by Lorentz, Iny
Stretching her stiff muscles, Hiltrud sighed. “We must say a prayer for her, but I don’t know the right words.”
Marie tried to remember the prayers she’d heard in the Constance cathedral. She used to attend Mass almost every day, listening to the choirboys sing. Since Hiltrud was visibly nervous and wanted to look for a new campsite before the last light of day, Marie recited the words quickly.
“Take Fita into your everlasting hands, dear Lord. Her heart was too good for this world. Amen,” she said, throwing a handful of dirt on the grave, while Hiltrud picked a few flowers and scattered them over the grave. They then made a simple cross from two branches and a strip of cloth, and set it in the ground.
They were relieved to see that Gerlind and the others had at least left behind their packs containing some essentials. Between their two bundles, Hiltrud had another dress, and Marie a smock to change into, and there were also two blankets, cooking utensils, two wooden cups, and a few other useful items like flint, tinder, and the ointments they urgently needed after every bad night. Taking their bundles, they left the campsite as quickly as they could, as if they were running away.
More than an hour later, the two friends stopped under some low pine boughs to set up a makeshift camp for the night. Taking out her pack, Hiltrud was astonished to find her small leather bag, and she laughed as she looked into it.
“Those thieving magpies didn’t find my spare purse, either. It’s not much, but at least we won’t have to start out by paying for our bread with one of your gold pieces. Things like that attract bailiffs, who are usually nothing more than more-adept thieves. They’d say we’d stolen the money and immediately take it from us.”
Marie sat up and placed her hand reassuringly on her friend’s arm. “First of all, there aren’t just gold coins in the purses, but there are also a few shillings and Regensburg pennies. And second, we can borrow Gerlind’s tactic of trading favors in our tents for some bread, a pitcher of wine, or some fat and honey for pancakes.”
“Thanks, but I prefer to use silver.” With a glum face, Hiltrud said good-night, lay down, and turned her back to Marie.
It was clear to Marie that Hiltrud was obsessed with finding the trail of the thieves and catching up with them as soon as possible. She herself wasn’t so keen on the idea because she wouldn’t be surprised if Berta sent the Riedburgs out to get them. For this reason she was glad to be away from the previous campsite, and she agreed with Hiltrud that for the time being they shouldn’t light any fires.
As Marie had expected, her friend woke her at the first light of day the next morning and barely left her time to get herself ready. While washing at a nearby brook and rubbing ointment on her recent wounds, Marie temporarily lost sight of Hiltrud who had run a short distance ahead. But then she heard her voice.
“Hurry, Marie! Come quickly!”
Tossing her pack over her shoulder, Marie quickly followed her friend.
Hiltrud was standing by a small path, pointing excitedly at a muddy puddle that had almost dried up. Between the tracks of deer and wild pigs, the impression of a naked, human foot was clearly visible. Hiltrud placed her own foot alongside it in the mud, and when she removed her foot, her print was a bit longer and narrower than the other.
“If this footprint isn’t Berta’s, I’ll let every priest take me free of charge in the future,” Hiltrud crowed.
Marie nodded, then raised her hands, trying to cool Hiltrud’s enthusiasm. “These footprints are definitely Berta’s, but I don’t know if it’s a good idea for us to follow the three of them through such open country. The Riedburgs are still too close.”
Hiltrud shook her head angrily. “I’m not going to let those wenches off so easily. I always expected the worst of Berta, but I’m really disappointed with Gerlind. I traveled with her for years and never imagined that one day she would ruthlessly drug me and rob me. I’m going to pay her back for her betrayal!”
“Then we’d better be careful. Siegward von Riedburg won’t accept the loss of his money kindly.”
“If you’re so afraid of him, you shouldn’t have stolen it. What can he do except seethe with outrage?”
Hiltrud kept moving, and Marie realized her friend was too angry to pay any attention to reasonable arguments, so she had no choice but to follow her and keep her eyes and ears open. The necessity of staying alert soon became clear. They had been following a seemingly endless path, winding through a dense growth of trees, and walking on ground damp enough to show the footprints of the three women who had passed there the day before. At one point, the path crossed another, wider path, and Marie could hear the distant clatter of metal.
She grabbed hold of Hiltrud. “Hurry—we have to get back into the forest!”
Hiltrud followed her, puzzled. “What’s the matter?”
Just then, Hiltrud also heard the loud voices and muffled sound of hooves on the soft ground, and she followed Marie into the underbrush without objection. Terrified, they threw themselves on the ground, curled up into tight balls, and barely dared breathe. As the men passed by not far from them on the path they had just been on, the two women carefully raised their heads.
As Marie had assumed, Siegward von Riedburg was leading the procession, accompanied by four horsemen, and followed by a dozen mercenaries marching in double time. They seemed to have a specific goal, for they hurried past Marie and Hiltrud without even looking up from the path. Before long, the men had disappeared into the forest as quickly as they had come. Only then did the two women dare to breathe again, looking at each other in fright.
“That was close. If you didn’t have such good ears . . .” Hiltrud left the rest of her sentence unspoken. They had both seen Siegward’s furious face.
Hiltrud pressed her hand against her pounding heart. “Shall we go deeper into the forest or go back the way the men came? I’d like to have a good day’s march between us and the Riedburgs, but the trees will slow us down.”
Marie wrapped her arms around herself as if she were freezing. “But what will we do if more men are following him?”
“We’ll hear them early enough, too.” Hiltrud tried to sound more courageous than she felt. It seemed safer to have Squire Siegward far behind her than somewhere nearby where he could surprise them at any time. Marie had nothing to say in response, so they crawled out of the bush and set out again silently, startling and clutching each other at every sound.
But they proved lucky. Dusk was falling, and neither a solitary walker nor any of Siegward’s soldiers had yet crossed their path. Finally reaching a crossing, they stopped to consider which direction to go. Suddenly Marie let out a shriek, and Hiltrud quickly covered Marie’s mouth with her hand.
“Quiet!” she said anxiously.
Hiltrud took her hand away, and Marie choked and nodded, pointing to the bloody, disfigured mass on the ground that had once been Gerlind. A wave of nausea came over her, and she staggered, bent over and retching, until nothing was left in her stomach except bile.
Hiltrud could do nothing to help Marie, because she was paralyzed by complete horror. “Gerlind was a thief and betrayed us, but she didn’t deserve to die like this,” she said as Marie walked toward her.
“No human being does.” Marie groaned, then hunched over again as she hobbled away, pain radiating from her empty stomach.
Hiltrud ran after her and discovered the remains of Berta and Märthe less than ten steps away, also both badly mangled. Marie’s stomach had settled down a bit, but tears continued to run down her cheeks. “How can people be so cruel? This is all my fault,” Marie whispered. “If I hadn’t stolen the money, our friends would still be alive and well.”
Hiltrud straightened up, dried her face on her sleeve, and placed her hands on Marie’s shoulders. “Now listen to me! If those three hadn’t drugged and robbed us, they would be alive now, and we would all be safe. Where do you think Siegwar
d and his killers were going? They’re headed to the camp where those harlots left us. One of the women must have told the killers, and if the men hadn’t spent so much time slaughtering them or if the effect of Gerlind’s potion had lasted longer, we’d both be dead, too. And our last moments would have been even more torturous, as Siegward would have found his purse on us.”
Marie nodded, but she also didn’t want to completely condemn their former traveling companions. It was easy for her to imagine that one of them, fearing for her life, had betrayed the location of their camp to the Riedburgs, and Marie tried to get Hiltrud to understand that as well.
“That may well be,” Hiltrud interrupted dourly, “but all I’m interested in right now is saving my own skin. Let’s get out of here and run away as far as our feet will take us. And don’t try to convince me to bury these three thieves.”
“No, there’s no time for that. When Siegward finds our tracks, he’ll return, and, at the latest, that will be after he doesn’t find us at the campsite where Fita’s buried.”
Marie straightened up, pressed her hand to her aching stomach, and followed Hiltrud into the gathering darkness. She was ashamed of her weakness and at the same time struggled with self-reproach. No matter how she looked at it, she felt guilt for the death of her three former companions. Though she tried to console herself with Hiltrud’s admonitions that the three women had sealed their fate through their own greed, she already suspected that the horrible sight at the crossroads would follow her in her dreams for a long time.
X.
Later that night, Marie couldn’t begin to work out how far they’d traveled, and even the next day she couldn’t figure out what direction they had taken. The land around them seemed more rugged and wild. Dark forests of trees overgrown with moss stretched far to the south, and when they reached the top of a bare hill, all they could see around them was more forest, unbroken by either tilled land or villages.
Turning to look in all directions, Hiltrud frowned. “We must be in the Black Forest. That’s both good and bad.”
Marie nodded dejectedly. When she lived in Constance, she had heard a lot about this part of the country, a place where you could walk for days without meeting anyone. More bears and wolves were said to live under these ancient oaks, beeches, and pines than there were residents in all of Constance.
Hiltrud looked at it a bit more optimistically. “Siegward certainly won’t find us here. Come, let’s look for a place where we’ll be safe from wild animals. I’m so tired, I’ll soon fall asleep standing up.”
Marie slipped out of her shoes, each consisting of a wooden sole held on by a wide leather strap, and examined her sore feet. “I wouldn’t recommend sleeping that way, but I have nothing against finding a dry shelter with a brook nearby where I can take a drink and cool my feet.”
Grumbling something that sounded like “spoiled kid,” Hiltrud started walking down the hill in front of them. At the bottom, they found a brook that passed through a deep cut in the rocks where Marie could quench her thirst and fill her leather water pouch. Stepping out of the brook onto the opposite shore, she found a copse of trees suitable for setting up camp. Though their hungry stomachs were growling loudly, they were too tired to look for firewood and were also afraid that the fire would reveal their location. Sharing their last piece of bread, they washed it down with water.
With heavy eyes, they summoned up their last bit of strength to weave together a wall of branches so that they could hear any approaching man or beast. Finally, they wrapped themselves in their blankets and stretched out on the rocky ground.
Exhausted, Marie and Hiltrud slept until late afternoon. Stiff and frozen from lying so long on the cold, hard ground, they clambered down to the brook to drink. Unfortunately, there weren’t any ripe berries or mushrooms so early in the year, but Hiltrud found some wild celery that they wolfed down voraciously. Though it filled their stomachs, it wasn’t satisfying, and they knew that they wouldn’t survive long on that diet. Since they also wanted to put more distance between themselves and Siegward, they waited until the moon had risen, then continued down through a gorge in the half-light.
In the course of their travels over the next few days, they lived on raw roots and tree mushrooms and chewed on tree gum if they couldn’t find anything else, since they still didn’t dare build a fire to cook what otherwise might be their last meal. At last, however, their exhausted legs wouldn’t carry them any farther, and they sought refuge in a thickly forested ravine.
Protected by an overhanging ledge, they wove branches together to make a simple shelter and covered the roof with thick layers of moss and tufts of grass. At first their mood was as gloomy as the weather, but they quickly brightened up after they had lit a little fire in their hideout and were nibbling on a supper of baked flour cakes and a soup of wild grass and tree mushrooms. Their first hot meal in a week, it seemed like a banquet.
Judging by the view from the bare hilltop above the ravine, the next human settlement was several hours away on the other side of the mountains in the direction of the Rhine. Though the Rhine was their ultimate goal, Hiltrud didn’t want to leave the forest until dust had settled over the matter with the Riedburgs. Instead, she wanted to head a bit farther south to put more even distance between themselves and the Riedburgs’ castle. Marie agreed with all of Hiltrud’s suggestions, as she was still too wrapped up in her own worries. The close encounter with the mercenaries and the gruesome consequences weighed heavily on her mind.
When the women heard the sound of a swineherd’s horn a few days later, they left their shelter, plunging deeper into the ever more desolate and gloomy forest. Occasionally, they came across shelters used by swineherds or woodsmen, but they didn’t dare use the cabins for fear of being followed, and instead built makeshift shelters of brushwood or birch twigs in the evenings. Hiltrud had made a snare to catch wild animals, and they sometimes added meat to their menu, enjoying rabbit stew and even venison once, along with their daily diet of roots, tubers, and tree mushrooms. Still, they desperately longed for bread, and their desire grew so strong that Hiltrud was dreaming of fresh loaves of bread, swearing she’d give herself to any man for just one slice. Marie laughed at her but had to admit she was thinking almost exactly the same thing.
Though they avoided all human contact out of fear of Riedburg and his mercenaries, Hiltrud demanded that they both still wear their yellow ribbons; the danger of being caught without that sign of their social status was simply too great. Prostitutes traveling alone without their ribbons of immorality were often charged by city bailiffs, then whipped after a speedy trial before a compliant judge.
Marie, on the other hand, thought that her friend’s caution was extreme, especially since she knew that their ribbons made it impossible for them to buy provisions in any of the scattered forest settlements without attracting attention. Indeed, she had come to believe they had nothing to fear anymore, since after their time in the forest, both women were now almost unrecognizable. Plant extracts and tree funguses had darkened their hair, and their faces had turned brown due to their constant application of plant oils.
After they had climbed up through the Schönmünztal Valley in the northern Black Forest and looked down at the Rhine from atop Mount Hornisgrinde, Marie decided it was time to return to the civilized world. For days they had been following a well-traveled path, judging from the other sets of fresh footprints, and Marie hoped it would eventually lead to a small city or even to a pilgrimage site. She was ready to take the risk of bribing a gatekeeper with a shilling just to be able to shop again.
As the roofs of a city appeared, Hiltrud gave in to Marie’s plan to go into town, but since she was afraid the two of them together would attract too much attention, Hiltrud decided to wait for Marie in the forest near town. Despite Hiltrud’s disapproval, Marie covered her yellow ribbons with the tattered cloth that she used to carry her possessions and took only
a handful of coins along to buy bread and provisions.
Hiltrud hovered over her friend, worried. “I don’t feel good about this. What if you are molested or run right into the arms of Riedburg’s people?”
Marie laughed and shrugged off her concern. “No one is looking for a dirty old hag with brown hair. Hiltrud, we have to eat something other than wild plants and tree funguses. And if we don’t make ourselves some new clothes soon, we’ll have to run around naked, as these rags we’re wearing are falling apart. If we get to the Rhine dressed in these old sacks, no man with a full purse will even want to come near us.”
“I know you’re right, but . . .”
“No buts, Hiltrud,” Marie interrupted. “Make yourself comfortable here, and I’ll go on alone.”
Hiltrud’s shoulders slumped. “Very well, if you don’t want to listen to my advice, then go, for God’s sake.”
Up close, the city was larger than Marie had expected. Built on a gently sloping mountainside, tall dark wooden houses had straw-covered roofs that reached to the ground. The largest building in the city was an inn with a “Welcome” sign visible for miles, its massive size demonstrating the importance of the trade route it marked, leading from the Rhine over the last peaks in the Black Forest, and then onto Stuttgart. In front of the inn, Marie could see the canvas coverings of merchants’ stands, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Evidently it was market day in town.
Her heart was pounding as she approached the city gate. The guards didn’t turn her away, but one of them bent down and tugged at an unruly yellow ribbon that had slipped out from under her dress, demanding a gate tax of four pennies. When Marie looked at him angrily, he sternly pointed at the guardroom with an unambiguous wave of his hand.
Marie didn’t want to trade her services as payment for entering the city, and she stared at him with grim determination. “I want to go to the market to buy bread.”