Wine and food demanded their price. I struggled to pay attention to the discussion, but Werner’s face drifted in and out of focus. Bero was worse. Oblivious to the world, he’d slumped sideways and rested his head against my shoulder.
Without warning, Werner jumped up. In quick succession he dealt orders to his men. When the festival began later today, they were supposed to mingle among the villagers and the patrons of the Klausenhof. After dark, when the revelers were drunk, Werner would join them in hopes they’d learn where exactly Lady Clara had her room and how many guards the beadle had with him. Only then would they strike.
“Will you join my men, Max Nerds?” Werner’s eyes focused on me.
I nodded though I hadn’t listened well. I felt sleepy from the wine and they spoke fast, their dialect still strange. It took all my concentration to follow along. “Yes, My Lord. What about Juliana?”
“We expect Miranda will not miss the festivities, especially the feast at the Klausenhof. Juliana will be with her at which time we will find a way to take her away.”
I had more questions. What about the rat? Ott looked positively dangerous and out of control. He’d welcome an attack, at least from me. And Juliana could neither move quickly nor far with her injured leg. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to her.
“I’ll stay close and wait outside.”
“Why wouldn’t you visit the tavern?” Werner ignored his knights who scattered to grab harnesses, swords and assorted knives. They all seemed tough and capable and not at all affected by the wine.
I glanced at Bero who’d opened his eyes but seemed far away. “I don’t have money to buy food or drink.”
A curious look slid across Werner’s face. “You’re a ruler’s son and you journeyed here without reserves?”
“I left in a hurry,” I said. I knew I sounded meek, but I could hardly explain that Euros were not an accepted currency in this place, wherever or whenever it was. Here was the sticky question again where I’d come from. I thought of lying, inventing a story being mugged, but the blue eyes seemed to look right through me. And somehow I didn’t want to lie to this man. Werner had already gotten up and was talking to one of his squires, his son Christian, I had met during my first visit. Moments later, the boy returned.
“This is a small token. Consider it imbursement for your brave deeds today. Do not worry yourself. We’ll bring your maiden to safety.” Werner handed me a leather pouch, which jingled quietly. Bero had found his way to my side, his eyes glued to the purse.
I opened it and extracted a handful of coins. Some were gold, some silver in different sizes. They looked handmade with crude engravings—nothing like Euros. Bero gasped.
I had no clue what I held in my hand, but it rendered Bero speechless. At least for a moment.
“Thank you, My Lord,” I said and bowed. Now I’d be able to buy another pair of pants and shoes. And I’d take care of Bero and his family. “We’ll join your men at the Klausenhof and meet after dark near the old oak.”
Werner stretched and yawned. “Go easy on the drink, lads. It’ll be a late night. We must remain sharp.” He turned and waved at one of the maids, a pretty girl with chestnut hair and a sumptuous chest. Together they headed toward a back door, the knight a possessive hand on the girl’s shoulder. To my surprise she didn’t seem to mind. To the contrary, she smiled at him, her eyes full of admiration and something else. Lust.
I turned. I’d read enough about the Middle Ages to know that knights led a rather loose sex life. Girls seemed to like powerful men and Werner was one of the most commanding characters I had ever met. Amazing what Jimmy’s father had dreamed up.
“Let’s go,” I said. Bero stared at a silver coin in his hand he’d taken from the purse.
“We’re prosperous,” Bero said, looking up as if he were dreaming. “You are prosperous.”
I shrugged. “It’s ours. I just need a jacket and some other shoes.” Maybe it was part of the game that I had to get money.
“What’s a jacket?”
“A new robe,” I said, but Bero wasn’t listening. He was still twisting the coin in his fingers, then biting on it.
“Mutter won’t believe me. She’ll say I stole it.”
“Let’s be careful and not show anyone. How much is that one you hold in your hand?”
“One Silber Mark. That’s…” Bero lifted his head and started to count, but after five he got confused and started over. I remembered the leeks at the market piled in sets of five. “I don’t know. I can’t count that far. It’s a lot of Heller. I could buy up the entire bread supply with that.”
“We better find smaller coins or we’ll draw too much attention. The innkeeper will think we stole them, too.” I reopened the bag and emptied it on the table. Most of the coins were silver Marks, along with three gold Gulden and an assortment of smaller coins.
“These are Pfennige.”
“Will that buy us dinner?”
Bero nodded. “More than one evening’s worth.”
“Then we each take two Pfennig coins and hide the rest. Let’s head to your house and wash up for the festival.”
“Wash up?”
“Bero, have you ever thought about your skin being dirty and itchy?”
Bero shrugged. “So?”
“It’s unhealthy. You get sick.”
Bero frowned and then shook his head.
“You can stay filthy, but I’m going to wash.” I didn’t mention that I wanted to look my best when I saw Juliana again. I thought of her doe eyes and my insides began to vibrate. I’d freeze my butt off any day before I’d run around covered in muck.
“How do you know you get sick?” Bero said as we headed downhill toward the village. “Maybe you get ill from washing.”
“Impossible.” I kept going. Maybe Juliana was already at the Klausenhof with Miranda. I’d find a way to get close to her. “You just have to trust me. I know a lot more about that than you. Dirty skin is gross.”
“Where do you get the water? We don’t have a bathhouse in the village. I heard there’s one in Heiligenstadt, but that’s hours away.”
“River.”
“Nay, it’s freezing,” Bero hooted. “You’ll drown yourself.”
“I swim, you jerk. Don’t you ever want to meet a girl?”
“She wouldn’t care.” And after a pause. “So you’re in love with Juliana. The Lord caught you.” Bero giggled.
I felt my cheeks get hot. Juliana didn’t know and brother Bero might give me away or worse, make snide comments about my washing habit before I would have a chance to talk to her. Suddenly I felt angry again. “You keep your mouth shut.”
“The loving lad is bad-tempered.” Bero was overcome by another giggling fit.
“Shut up.”
As Bero’s hut came into view, we fell silent. The cottages along the way had all been decorated. Men and women, children and assorted household animals hung around their front yards and porches. Some had adorned themselves with necklaces made from grasses and dried berries. Others had stuck flowers into their hair. They all looked excited, their eyes flashing and their worn hands gesturing. Most wore their everyday clothes, plain gray and beige linen frocks topped with brown and black gugels, a type of hood that covered their shoulders. For many it was probably the only outfit they owned.
I thought of my purse. By the sounds of it, I could’ve outfitted the entire village. I had to think about what was best, make the coins last and improve the lives of Bero’s family.
“What a joyous time,” Bero’s mother said when we entered. She was fixing cabbage soup and had returned early in time for the celebration. A loaf of rye bread sat on the table. Adela filled our mugs with watery beer.
“Let us take our meal early so we have time to see the juggler and minstrel. You took Juliana to Miranda’s manor?”
Bero and I exchanged a glance. I regretted that we hadn’t really discussed what we wanted to say. It was best to keep quiet.
&n
bsp; “Em, yes.” Bero sagged on the bench and sniffed. I thought he couldn’t possibly be hungry, but then Bero would probably never turn down a meal.
“She’s with Miranda,” I said. Technically that was true. I quickly climbed to the sleeping platform. The plastered wall next to my straw mattress had a hole and I stuffed the purse inside. Replacing the straw I rooted around for my new shirt, the grimy tailor had dropped off a couple of days ago I’d wear it tonight, even if it was boring pale white. Better that than my filthy again T-shirt.
“I’m going to wash,” I announced as I descended the ladder. “I’ll skip dinner today.”
“But we have fresh bread.” Adela’s lip quivered. She looked upset.
“Let the lad go,” her mother said.
“I know and thank you. I may have a piece later,” I said to Adela. I patted her on the arm and turned to leave. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Bero stuffing his face with soup, chasing it with bread. Where did he put all that food?
I burped. The unaccustomed meat from Werner’s table lay heavy in my stomach. Besides, I’d have dinner in the tavern. And see Juliana. I felt giddy again, a strange flutter at the bottom of my stomach.
The river flowed unperturbed, the water reflecting the gray above. The sun hadn’t been out in days while each night had been colder than the last. I’d woken up freezing in the early mornings. The few wood coals didn’t warm anything and the coarse blanket was a joke. It was definitely fall, just like at my real home. Except at home I had central heat and a wool comforter, not to mention a clean bed with a soft mattress.
The leaves, vibrant earth tones just a few days earlier, had lost their brilliance. They’d soon drop and winter would be next. I’d have to organize warm clothes and a blanket. Who knew how long I’d be here. The game had turned into a never-ending nightmare of survival with no apparent goal in sight. For a moment I hated Jimmy’s dad for his invention. Never mind that I had strong-armed my best friend to hand over a flawed game. I couldn’t blame anyone but myself.
I scanned the path. Other than the old witch I’d never seen anyone. I stripped quickly and dunked below the surface. Instant goose bumps spread across my body, but the excitement returned when I thought of Juliana. I had money now and soon, I’d get the girl back to a safe place with Lady Clara.
I came up sputtering. How could I have missed this? If Werner freed Lady Clara from the fangs of the Duke, she’d not be safe at her manor. What was her blind husband going to do? He hadn’t protected her in the first place, had obviously not put up much of a fight or gone to the authorities—not that there were any. He hadn’t even bothered to see Knight Werner, his Lord. He was probably drowning his sorrow with wine and too embarrassed for not serving his Lord.
And Juliana would be no safer. Just the opposite. If it were that easy to steal a Lady, it would be child’s play to grab a measly servant, especially a young girl. Neither would she be safe at Bero’s hut. I thought of Ott, his beady eyes, the large front teeth and the stringy hair. Something had to be done about him. But more importantly, something had to be done for Juliana.
I’d forgotten to ask where Werner planned to take Lady Clara. Wherever she went, Juliana would have to follow. I cursed myself for drinking too much wine. It was making me slow and stupid.
I climbed from the water and wiped down my skin. The new shirt had a round neckline and long sleeves. There were no buttons and I struggled to tie the straps at my wrists. I could’ve used a coat or vest. The wind was chilly and sent piles of leaves down the trail. I brushed my hair with my fingers.
Nobody here had short hair, but my mother always insisted on regular haircuts. In the absence of curls, it stood straight up. At least the color was decent—dark brown. Almost like Juliana’s eyes. Get a grip, I scolded himself.
For a moment I hesitated. Maybe I should head down the path to see the old witch. But she’d be full of warnings and I didn’t want to hear any of them. Instead I climbed uphill toward the village. It had to be sometime in the afternoon and the festival would soon be in full swing.
Chapter 14
“Ready?” I said as soon as I entered Bero’s shack.
Bero sat waiting by the fire. “You’re slower than a frozen snail.”
“Let’s rock,” I said, trying not to grin. Bero had washed his hands and wiped his face. There were still a few muddy spots on his cheeks, but it was a start.
“We’ll see you around,” Bero yelled over his shoulder. “What’s rock?”
“Just means, we’re ready to hit the town.”
Bero frowned. “You’re going to get us in trouble with your outlandish speech.”
At the time I didn’t realize how right Bero was going to be, because I was thinking about seeing Juliana and finding a quiet spot to hang out with her.
“Behave yourselves,” Bero’s mother called after us. We ignored her.
As we approached the village center, the path became clogged with revelers. Along the sides of the Klausenhof and the market square where Bero had sold his crops, canvas tents had been set up. The air was filled with smoke from wood fires and assorted roasts. A young boar was being turned on one, another contained piles of chestnuts while a third had a giant cast-iron kettle perched above it. Bero stopped and sniffed the air.
“Beans. Want to get some?”
I shook my head. The guy was impossible. He’d just eaten two meals in a row and was ready for another.
“Let’s eat at the Klausenhof. We’ve got work to do, remember?”
Bero nodded and sauntered after me. “What are we going to have?”
“Anything you want,” I said, scanning the crowd for the familiar faces of Juliana or the Ladies.
We walked up and down along the displays and finally stopped near the entrance to the Klausenhof. A minstrel sang a ballad, his fingers dancing on a harp.
A crowd had formed around him, the singer dressed in a red, blue and green striped shirt, a short leather vest and tights. His shoes had long tips that curled upward like pointed snakes. He stood on top a barrel and while his fingers moved expertly across the strings…
Herr Wirt, uns dürstet allzu sehre:
Trag auf Wein! Trag auf Wein! Trag auf Wein!
Dass dir Gott dein Leid verkehre:
Bring her Wein! Bring her Wein! Bring her Wein!
Und dein Einkommen mehre!
Nun schenk ein! Nun schenk ein! Nun schenk ein!
Sag, Gretel, willst du sein mein Bräutel?
So sprich, sprich! So sprich, sprich! So sprich, sprich!
Wenn du mir kaufst einen Beutel,
vielleicht tu ich’s, vielleicht tu ich’s, vielleicht tu ich’s,
und zerreißt mir nicht mein Häutel,
nur anstichst, nur anstichst, nur anstichst!
Du, Hänsel, willst du mit mir tanzen?
So komm ran! So komm ran! So komm ran!
Wie die Böcke woll’n wir tanzen!
Nicht stolpern! Nicht stolpern! Nicht stolpern!
Lass meinen Schlitz im Ganzen!
Schieb nur an! Jetzt schieb an! Hans, schieb an!
Macht einen drauf, ihr lahmen Schnecken!
Frisch, froh, frei! Frisch, froh, frei! Frisch, froh, frei!
Paart euch, regt euch, rührt das Becken!
Jens, Luzei! - Kunz, Kathrein! - Benz, Clarei!
Hopst wie die Kälber, ihr Gecken!
Juch hei hei! Juch hei hei! Juch hei hei!”
“Barkeep, we’re so thirsty:
Serve us wine! Serve us wine! Serve us wine!
That God turns your suffering:
Bring us wine! Bring us wine! Bring us wine!
Wine!
And may your income grow!
Now pour! Now pour! Now pour!
Say, Gretel, will you be my bride?
So speak, speak! So speak, speak! So speak, speak!
If you buy me a bag,
maybe I do it, maybe I do it, maybe I do it,
and don’t tear up my skin,
&n
bsp; only broach, only broach, only broach!
You, Hänsel, will you dance with me?
So come close! So come close! So come close!
Like the rams will we dance!
Not stumble! Not stumble! Not stumble!
Leave my slit hole!
Bump me only! Now bump! Hans, bump!
Go on a lash, you lame snails!
Fresh, happy, free! Fresh, happy, free! Fresh, happy, free!
Pair up, move, stir the pelvis!
Jens, Luzei! – Kunz, Kathrein! – Benz, Clarei!
Jump like the calves, you fops!
Juch hei hei! Juch hei hei! Juch hei hei!”
I shook my head. They sure weren’t holding back. Everything I saw and heard reminded me of the Middle Ages. The way people dressed and talked, their attitudes…Castle Hanstein. It sure looked a lot as if I’d traveled through time. Unless the game had sent me to some make-believe world. But this was just so authentic. As the crowd stirred and hollered along, their eyes full of excitement, their bodies swaying back and forth, I vowed again to find out what year it was.
When I looked up, Bero had disappeared. Reluctantly, I left the craziness of the mob. What I wouldn’t have given for a phone or camera to take shots of this medieval-looking madness?
I discovered Bero up the road on a grassy patch near the dressmaker’s hut. “Where are you going?”
Bero ignored me and stared at the rectangular space, surrounded by ropes on each side. At the far end, benches and tables sat waiting.
“The squire competition will be here tomorrow,” Bero said. He looked pale and swallowed nervously. “I’m not sure I can do it.”
“Of course you can.” I slapped Bero on the shoulder. “You’ve already eaten at the Lord’s table. I bet nobody else can say that.”
Bero nodded but he looked worried. To the left of the Klausenhof, a quartet of musicians had begun their performance, filling the air with tunes. They easily snuffed out the minstrel who no longer attracted the crowd and climbed off his barrel. Within minutes, couples had found their way to the music and begun a wild dance. They cried and laughed, adding to the ever-louder hum of the throng.
Escape from the Past Page 10