by Lorentz, Iny
Suddenly she heard the sound of crunching pebbles on the nearby path. As the steps quickly drew closer, she withdrew behind a withered bush and stared out into the fog. Upon seeing the fat monk, who in his flowing white cassock reminded her of a bloodthirsty ghost, she looked around for a way to escape.
Hugo von Waldkron was a guest in her enemy Rupert Splendidus’s house. The cleric had been following her for several weeks, but she had always been able to elude him before. Jula, the daughter of a neighbor woman, worked as a maid for Rupert Splendidus, and she had warned Hedwig about Hugo. If this man wanted a woman, Jula said, he would take her by force, if necessary, since despite his huge potbelly, the abbot was reputed to have the strength of a bear.
Hedwig panicked. If he caught her, he would likely rob her of her virginity, and then she would suffer the same fate as Marie. It was unlikely anyone would hear her cries for help at this hour, and even if someone did show up unexpectedly, he would probably not be willing to confront such an influential man.
“Forgive me, Uncle Matthis and Marie, for not praying at your grave today.”
The abbot turned around as if he had heard something, and Hedwig quickly threw her flowers on the grave and ran to the far end of the potter’s field. Though the area was bounded by a thick hedge, there were a few gaps she could slip through. Hoping the abbot didn’t see her, she stepped behind some bushes and crawled along the ground as she watched the abbot heading toward Matthis Schärer’s grave. Someone must have told him that Hedwig usually visited the grave on Marie’s name day and given him precise details as to her routine.
Hedwig watched as he turned and ran back to the entrance. Squeezing her way through the hedge, she quickly dashed away. Assuming that the abbot would keep an eye on the Paradies Gate for a while, she headed back home through the Scottish Gate instead.
Still afraid that the abbot might have followed her after all, she kept turning around, not noticing four men in colorful military garb headed her way. They were mercenaries, and like crowds of other similar men, they had nothing to do but hang out in Constance and neighboring areas, waiting for orders from their leaders. These four had left their quarters near the Scottish Gate and were on their way into the city. At the sight of a young woman, they cheered and came toward her.
Before Hedwig could react, one of the soldiers had pulled her to him and reached under the neckline of her dress. “Look what a fine little bird we’ve caught!”
“Let me go!” Hedwig hissed. “I’m not a whore!”
Though she tried to sound brave, she was completely terrified. In her fear of the lustful abbot, she had completely forgotten to watch out for the mercenaries who had descended on the city like a flock of locusts making life hard for everyone responsible for preserving public order, including local bailiffs, the council guards of Count Palatine Ludwig, and the kaiser. Too late, she realized that she should have taken a maid with her on her errand, as was proper for the virtuous daughter of a Constance citizen. On the other hand, these boors looked like they’d even assault Wina, who had become wrinkled and gray and didn’t have a tooth left in her mouth.
The man who had grabbed Hedwig turned her around for the others to see. “Well, what do you say, comrades? This girl is a tastier morsel than the whore we shared last night.”
One of his friends tore the shawl from her head and tugged at her long, golden blond braids. “Indeed she is. I can hardly wait. Will you let me go first this time, Krispin?”
The other laughed. “You can wait your turn. Naturally I’ll take her first.”
Hedwig had hoped the men were just teasing, but she now realized her dire situation and opened her mouth to scream. It was possible the pious brothers in the nearby Scottish monastery would hear her, or at least the tower guard, but the soldier pressed his hand over her mouth. “You won’t deprive us of our fun!”
As he was dragging Hedwig into a wooded area at the edge of a pasture, an officer wearing the emblem of the palatine lion on his chest came walking up from the river. Struggling hard, the girl kicked her attacker, freeing herself long enough to let out a half-stifled scream.
The officer only looked briefly at the group, however, making a disgusted face when he saw the four men and the girl. Continuing on his way, he at first showed no interest in getting involved. Hedwig groaned, as the soldier pressed her body hard against his shoulder, bending her neck painfully. Gazing helplessly into the sunlight breaking through the fog, she didn’t see that the officer had turned around and was now staring incredulously at her face and bright blond hair.
Stepping in front of the men, he unsheathed his sword with an angry curse and blocked the men’s path. “Let the girl go, you scoundrels!”
“Why should we?” Krispin snapped at him. “This is our whore, so just mind your own business.”
“I said let her go!” The officer took another step forward and smacked Krispin over the head with the flat blade of his sword. The mercenary dropped the girl and reached for his weapon, then noticed his opponent’s coat of arms and paused. “Since when do you bloodhounds make a fuss over a prostitute?”
“I’m no prostitute, but the daughter of a Constance citizen,” Hedwig shouted.
The officer seemed confused.
Krispin waved his hand dismissively and tried to seize Hedwig, who was crawling away from her tormenters. “Even if that’s true, the daughters and wives of citizens also hop into bed with every fellow who can pay for it.”
The officer put his sword to the man’s chest. “If this were a matter of mutual agreement, then this would be none of my business, but the girl has clearly shown that she’s not of the same mind.” The officer’s sword pushed deeper into the mercenary’s leather doublet, and he seemed to be itching for a fight.
Putting his foot on Hedwig’s dress to keep her from slipping away, Krispin looked at his comrades defiantly. “Are the four of us going to let ourselves be bullied by one little wimp?” Two of them shook their heads and drew their swords while the other raised his hands, protesting.
“Are you mad, Krispin? We can be hanged if we attack a vassal of the count palatine.”
At that, the other two men placed their swords back in their sheaths, though their expressions showed how reluctant they were to yield to just one man. The officer’s demeanor rattled them, however, for he seemed ready to take on all four of them.
Krispin stepped back from Hedwig. “Damn, a man should be allowed to fool around a little!” The look on his face as he walked away warned the officer not to meet up with him in a dark alley. The other three mercenaries followed their leader, grumbling.
Hedwig brushed the dirt from her dress and looked up at her rescuer curiously. He couldn’t have been more than twenty-five years old, with an angular but friendly face and a prominent nose, and his bright blue eyes stared back at her with a mix of astonishment and doubt. Noticing his odd expression, Hedwig tried to remember her good manners.
“I thank you, sir. You have saved me from a very bad situation.”
He reached out and carefully caressed her heavy braids. “It was dumb of you, girl, to be running around alone out here.”
Hedwig lowered her head and stared helplessly at the tips of her shoes. “You are right, but I couldn’t take the direct way back into town because the fat abbot was after me again. He followed me to my cousin’s grave and would certainly have attacked me if I hadn’t succeeded in outrunning him.”
The man snorted irritably as he continued to gaze at Hedwig’s face. “There’s too much riffraff in this city. An abbot, you say?”
“Yes, Hugo von Waldkron, the abbot of the Waldkron monastery.”
Hedwig saw that his mind was elsewhere. He passed a hand over his forehead while still holding one of her braids in the other. “You’re really too young . . . No, you can’t be Marie, but you look a lot like her.”
Hedwig looked up, startled
. “You know my cousin?”
The soldier gaped at her wide-eyed. “Marie Schärer is your cousin? Then you must be Master Mombert’s little Hedwig.”
“Yes, I’m Mombert Flühi’s daughter.” Hedwig was amazed that a total stranger knew her and her family. She was also ashamed, since the officer probably thought she was a woman of easy virtue.
“I was not just running around, but I wanted to go to Marie’s grave in potter’s field. Today is her birthday and name day.”
The man’s face fell. “Marie is dead? Oh my God!”
Hedwig raised her hands, uncertainly. “We don’t know for sure. It’s actually the grave of her father, who was buried secretly by our adversary. Ever since my father discovered that his brother-in-law was buried there, we have also been going to pray for the soul of my missing cousin.”
The soldier’s face turned so dark with fury that Hedwig became afraid. “Master Matthis is dead? That’s certainly the fault of this scoundrel . . . When did he die?”
“We don’t know the details. He disappeared right after Marie was driven from town. My father thinks he knows who is responsible. We can’t say publicly, but . . .” Hedwig stopped short. She didn’t know this man, but she did know that there were certain things she shouldn’t say to strangers. At worst, the officer could be one of Master Rupert’s confidants, and if the counselor heard what she was saying, things would go badly for her father.
“I’m talking too much,” she said. “Please let me go, sir. They are probably already looking for me at home.”
The man gave her his arm. “I’ll take you back to your house, or other men might seek to take advantage of your situation.”
“How do I know I can trust you?” Hedwig asked. The man laughed. “You’re safe with me. After all, I used to wipe your nose when you were a child.”
Hedwig placed her fists on her hips and glared at him. “You’ve been saying all along that you know me and my father, but you won’t tell me who you are.”
“I’m Michel, son of the taverner Guntram Adler on Katzgasse Lane.”
Hedwig jutted out her lower lip. “That can’t be true. The taverner on Katzgasse Lane is named Bruno Adler.”
“That’s my older brother. My father isn’t alive any longer, either.” Michel sighed as he said that, but he didn’t feel particularly sad.
Hedwig squinted, trying to find any similarities between the slender, strong warrior standing before her and the stout taverner on Katzgasse Lane, but simply concluded that Michel was quite a bit better looking than his brother. Giving him her arm, she let him accompany her home.
III.
“Your wife wants to know if you have seen Hedwig, master.”
Mombert Flühi pondered the question carefully, since the journeyman’s voice was as anxious as if he were asking about his sister or even his bride. “No, Wilmar, I haven’t seen my daughter today. I hope she hasn’t slipped out of the house alone.”
Hurrying over to a little bull’s-eye window, Wilmar looked around outside. The window let just enough light into this part of the shop for them to be able to work without a torch. “She didn’t take any of the maids along, for they’re all with your wife. Good Lord, how can Hedwig be so reckless!”
Mombert Flühi could see how worried the young man was about his daughter and raised his hands in resignation. He wanted to tell Wilmar that a seventeen-year-old girl couldn’t be locked in her room night and day, even in times like these. Wilmar had told him that the abbot of the Waldkron monastery had an eye on his daughter and was stalking her like an infatuated young man. But she wasn’t even safe in her own home, and he couldn’t do anything to stop the abbot any more than he could block the nobleman he was obliged to take into his own house on the city council’s orders. Several times already, his noble guest, Philipp von Steinzell, had accosted Hedwig and tried to kiss her, although the one time Philipp had tried to pull her into his room, Wilmar was able to save her by telling the nobleman an inventive story about someone waiting for him in the street.
Grinding his teeth in angry frustration, Wilmar made a face, and Mombert Flühi assumed his journeyman was also thinking about these threats to Hedwig’s honor. Both men wanted nothing more than to run up to the squire’s room, pull him out into the hallway, and throw him down the stairs. Mombert swore he’d toss Philipp von Steinzell out the next time something happened, even if that caused problems for him with the city council that required citizens to provide quarters for the visiting noblemen and ecclesiastical higher-ups. He owed that much, at least, to his daughter and to ensure peace in his house. He resolved to file another complaint soon to the quartermaster of his district, and to pester that official until he got permission to evict the arrogant knight.
Wilmar looked at his master disapprovingly. “You shouldn’t have allowed Hedwig to leave.”
Mombert flared up. “What can I do? Tie her up? She probably went to the potter’s field at the crack of dawn to pray for Marie, since this is Marie’s name day. If I’d thought of that earlier, I would have gone along with her.”
Wiping his brow, Mombert pushed aside the barrel he had been working on. “Just keep working, Wilmar. I’m going out for a little walk.”
Wilmar sighed in relief, as he knew his master would be looking for Hedwig. He was returning to his tasks when the three apprentices entered one after another, late again but clearly happy to see that their master wasn’t there. Wilmar pointed to the back of the shop. “Hurry up and get to work! The wood won’t carve itself.”
The previous day, the apprentices had been told to cut staves for the barrels, but they hadn’t gotten as far along as Master Mombert had expected. Isidor and Adolar, the two younger apprentices, looked contrite and hurried to the back of the shop to pick up their tools. Just three years younger than Wilmar, the other apprentice, Melcher, stood in the doorway, a scornful look on his face.
“I have no intention of continuing to do such scutwork. If Master Mombert won’t give me proper training in barrel making, my father will send me to a better master. Jörg Wölfling would be glad to take me on.”
Wilmar frowned and stuck out his jaw. “If you don’t like the work here, you should go somewhere else. But I doubt Master Jörg will give you anything different to do. With all the important people and their entourages in town, there’s so much to be done that everyone has to work as hard as they can. Moaning and whining are things you can do at home.”
Turning his back on the surly apprentice, Wilmar picked up the small boards that Adolar and Isidor had already split, put them on the workbench, and started cutting them down to size with a sharp drawknife.
Melcher stood in the doorway for a few minutes with clenched fists. Then he walked to the back of the shop, muttering to himself.
“I’ll tell the master you’re stalking Hedwig,” he snarled at Wilmar as he walked by, quickly trying to feint an anticipated smack.
But the journeyman moved faster, slapping Melcher so hard that the sound could be heard all over the house. Isidor and Adolar looked at each other, grinning. They both agreed that Melcher had it coming to him, for as the oldest apprentice, he was always pushing them around and acting as if he were the master.
IV.
Mombert Flühi was about to turn the corner and head for the Paradies Gate when he heard his daughter’s voice behind him.
“Father, where are you going?”
Despite his impressive girth, Mombert instantly wheeled around and saw his daughter heading up the lane on an officer’s arm. He gasped with anger, as he never imagined his daughter would give all the women of Constance reason to gossip. If Hedwig earned herself a reputation as a girl who flirted with soldiers, she’d forfeit any chance of a good marriage.
“Where were you? Aren’t you ashamed of yourself, strolling around with a total stranger, and a soldier at that?” he fumed.
Hedwig was
startled by her father’s sharp words, but her companion raised his hand reassuringly. “Good day, Master Mombert. I’m very glad to see you again.”
Hedwig’s father stared at the man and scratched the side of his head. “Do I know you?”
Michel took him by the shoulder, laughing.
“But Master Mombert, do you have such a poor memory? I’m Michel from Adler’s Tavern on Katzgasse Lane who followed your niece and searched for her in vain.” A shadow passed over his face.
Taking both of Michel’s hands in his own, Mombert squeezed them tightly. “Where have you been all this time, boy? And what are you doing in the military? That’s no place for a good lad like you.”
Glancing around, Michel tried to temper the man’s exuberance. “I think I should tell you over a cup of wine at your house, and not here on the street where people keep bumping into us.”
Mombert slapped his forehead. “Right you are! Come along! I’m eager to hear what you’ve been up to in the last five years.”
He took Michel by the arm, pulling him along. After a few steps, he turned to Hedwig. “It’s wonderful that you recognized Michel and brought him home with you. He has changed so much, I would never have known him.”
Hedwig lowered her head in shame. “I didn’t recognize Michel, Father. I went to the cemetery to place flowers on Uncle Matthis’s grave and pray for him and Marie. That portly abbot followed me there, and when I tried to flee, I ran right into the hands of four soldiers who wanted to hurt me. If Michel hadn’t rescued me from those vile men, I would certainly already be dead.”
Turning pale, Mombert grabbed Michel. “Is that true? Then, by God, you are a brave man, a hero, the kind we never see anymore.”
Michel blushed, his cheeks getting pink. “That’s more praise than I deserve, Mombert. The four ran away because of the coat of arms I’m wearing, not because of anything I did.”
“The palatine lion!” Mombert exclaimed respectfully. “So now you’re a soldier of the count palatine on the Rhine?”