“You look much better.” Bero sighed, obviously glad for the change in subject. “Ready for a sword fight? I’ve been practicing with Enders. He’s a master.” He danced around the room waving an imaginary sword.
“I believe it. Give me five and I’ll come and join you.” I reached for a mug near the bed. A bucket of water stood on the floor.
“Five what?”
I rolled my eyes. “Can you wait a few minutes? Outside?”
Bero shrugged. “What’s the water for?”
“Washing.”
“But your clothes are new. Never worn. Lady Clara had them sewn in the village…by our friend, the dressmaker.”
I sighed. Bero was the nosiest guy I’d ever met. “Washing my body.”
Bero shook his head. “Wasteful.”
“Girls like it better. You should try it,” I said at Bero’s back. The door slammed shut in response.
I climbed out of bed and inspected the bucket. Next to it Juliana had placed a towel, a rag and an earthen bowl with a whitish mass strewn with lavender blossoms. I sniffed. This had to be medieval soap. I smiled, smearing a bit of the mixture on my palm. Not bad. I quickly stripped and washed. If anyone opened the door I’d scream a warning. But nobody came. Maybe Bero was standing watch outside.
By the time, I finished, the water looked gray. I was a new man. Strange that I’d never paid attention to how wonderful a clean body felt. I’d discovered welts in my armpits and crotch. Probably fleas. The lavender would help keep them at bay.
I whistled as I dressed and left the room. Drizzle greeted me in the courtyard where life was going on as usual. I thought of the make-belief scenes during the medieval festivals in the Hanstein ruins. This was way cooler.
Farmers and peasants were delivering carts filled with fall crops of leeks, wheat, rutabagas, onions and carrots. They carried buckets with apples and cages with chickens. They stopped in front of man dressed in black wool and a felt hat who sat at a makeshift table, Hanstein’s castellan. He was filling out tiny strips of parchment and stuck them in a book.
I stared. I’d learned about this custom of the lords in history class, their accountants keeping track of harvests and each peasant’s payment of goods.
A stream of servants carried the deliveries to the cellars and the life stock to the stalls in the bailey. A wine merchant was dropping off kegs. I stopped to study the burned imprint: imported French wine. The Lord von Hanstein was doing well. Hans, Werner’s lame brother, was inspecting a wagon loaded with sheep’s wool. He squinted at me, his eyes full of suspicion.
“My dear brother, Lame Hans, thinks you’re spy, too.” Knight Werner laughed. He was selecting horse harnesses from a leather salesman and carried several looped around his neck. “Since Bero’s father, the tanner, died, we have to order leatherwork from Geismar. At least it’s one of our villages. I told Hans you’re just a lad on adventure to seek your fortune.”
As Lame Hans turned he threw a glance at me, muttering under his breath, something sounding like sirrah and Satan’s work. He wobbled across the flagstone, carefully avoiding a pile of horse dung and disappeared into one of the cellars. I remembered my visits to the ruins when I’d played hide and seek with my two cousins. The basement vaults of Hanstein were open to tourists and perfect for scaring people. I’d always been amazed how cold they were, even during summer weather. That had been a long time ago, in another life. I sighed.
“Is something troubling you?” Werner’s blue eyes showed concern. “I trust you’re recovering.
I bowed. “Yes, My Lord. I thank you for your help and providing a place for me and my friends.”
Werner nodded and he turned to the leather salesman. “Oh, I did have one more thing to ask you,” he said, spinning back around.
I stopped in my tracks. I’d noticed Bero down the bailey, watching a handful of squires practice sword-fighting and hand-to-hand combat.
“Of course, My Lord, anything I can do.”
“You still haven’t told me what brought you to Hanstein. Why did you choose to visit us, lords of little importance?” Werner said as his eyes were drawn toward the stables. He waved in greeting to one of his men leading a horse.
“Good morn, My Lord,” the knight said.
I stood waiting. I didn’t want to lie. Without Werner’s help I’d be dead. But how could I explain that I’d come from a different time almost six hundred years in the future. Werner would declare me insane.
The two knights were talking quietly. I admired the visitor’s outfit, the chainmail and leather vest, topped by armored breast-plates. His chestnut horse scraped its hooves across the flagstones causing sparks. I tried to eavesdrop, but the men spoke too softly, Knight Werner listening and nodding. At last, the man mounted his horse and disappeared through the gate.
“My Lord, I’ll try to explain,” I started. Maybe it was best to get it over with.
But Werner shook his head. “I must leave and tend to other matters. You can entertain us during the evening meal.”
“Father, Ludwig isn’t playing with me,” someone yelled. Christian, the small squire, I’d met during my first visit, came running and threw himself at Werner’s chest. Behind him, followed another boy, I’d seen in the stalls.
“Ludwig,” Werner said, holding his rambunctious son at bay, “get along with your brother. I want to introduce you to the Landgrave of Hessen soon. What would he say if he saw you fighting each other?”
Turning sideways, Ludwig rolled his eyes and quickly showed Christian his tongue.
“Yes, father. I’d rather study the bible than do the stupid sword fighting. Mother likes it.”
Werner grabbed the boy by the ear. “My sons will train to become proper knights and read the Lord’s word.”
“I want to use the sword,” another voice chirped. “Father, I’ll show you how I can fight.” A boy of maybe seven appeared from the keep, wielding a short wooden dagger.
A glimmer had appeared in Werner’s eye. “Thilo, you’re my bravest knight.” He scooped up the boy in his arms and threw him over his shoulder in a mock attack.
Thilo giggled and pounded his fists on his father’s leather-covered back, but Werner just laughed and set him back on the ground. “Go find Enders, he’ll show you all the tricks.”
Without another word, the boy raced toward the gate and the lower bailey. Ludwig stood watching, his mouth pinched and his chin pushed forward in stubborn defiance. “I’m not going.” Without waiting for approval he turned and marched toward the living quarters. I thought how I’d looked just like him arguing with my mom a short while ago. Much had changed since I’d eaten fried potatoes and eggs with my mother. How I wanted to laugh like the young kid again. Just relax and live carefree with exams being the worst of it. I’d had it pretty easy.
I watched as Werner shrugged in frustration, patted Christian on the head and walked back to the tanner’s wagon.
Slowly, without obvious purpose, Christian wandered toward the open area where several mock sword fights were going on. I followed, finding Bero watching from the side of the “battle field.” Bathed in sweat, he grinned from ear to ear.
“Should’ve seen me,” he shouted. “I almost beat Enders this time. You want me to show you?”
Enders was instructing Thilo, showing him how to hold his wooden training sword, no longer than a knife. Then he gently and in slow motion swung a stick and pretended to attack while the boy jumped back and forth shouting.
I smiled and slumped next to Bero. “I’ve been thinking,” I said, my eyes on the squires, but my mind somewhere else. “We have to take care of Ott.”
Bero turned to face me. “You want to fight him? He’s probably been taking lessons for twenty years. I bet he practices every day…whereas you haven’t done anything.” Bero scanned my skinny arms and shook his head. “I don’t understand it anyway. You’re traveling through the lands, visit the Lords, and you don’t even carry a weapon. Nor are you interested in our sword prac
tice.”
Despite my irritation, I suppressed a grin. Bero had been play fighting for five days and they were his practices. “I’m not going to fight Ott. Nor should you.”
Bero looked at me again. “Then what do you want to do? Sneak into his manor and smother him?”
“Of course not…I don’t know.” I paused, feeling suddenly irritated. “We’ll have to come up with something. Think about it and make a plan.”
Bero picked up his wooden sword and ran his forefinger along the dull blade. “Right.”
“I’m not kidding.”
“What’s kidding?”
I jumped up, frustrated about this ridiculous life where nobody understood what I was talking about. “Moron.” Bero was just too dense and refused to think about anything other than squires and food. “I’ll do it alone.” I walked up the hill toward the courtyard. How I missed the Internet, information about anything at my fingertips. I had to find a solution without any help.
Chapter 29
No matter how I tried, nothing came to mind. My brain remained blank while Bero kept at a distance, hanging out with Enders every chance he got. He’d started helping in the stalls, learning to take care of the horses, cleaning and shoeing, fixing harnesses and saddles. I’d hoped to spend time with Juliana, but she was busy taking care of Lady Clara and sometimes the children of Werner von Hanstein.
The truth was I felt lonely.
I wanted to go home and nothing, absolutely nothing came to mind in that arena, either. With every day, I got angrier and more depressed. I was stuck in this medieval life and nothing I did made any difference. In the beginning I’d looked for clues, something I’d be able to use, see or do to return home. But no clues had shown themselves.
I was simply living life in the Middle Ages, not fitting anywhere. Lame Hans had been right. I was neither a peasant, nor a squire and I most certainly wasn’t a knight. I didn’t matter, operating in a vacuum without purpose. And it was becoming increasingly harder to pull myself out of the darkness of my mood.
I picked up on the tenseness within the castle after meeting Catherine, Werner’s wife. She’d nodded and otherwise ignored me, but she looked drawn and sickly. I wondered how the women tolerated living together, especially Werner’s wife who had to know perfectly well that Lady Clara was Werner’s lover.
I remembered reading how women in medieval times had no rights and their husbands had affairs left and right. Much had changed since then, but my mother still suffered, even if she’d divorced my father. My father. Until now I’d only seen him as a villain. First he dragged us to Germany so I’d lose all my friends and the life I knew in the States. Then he left citing irreparable differences. I’d felt that I didn’t matter, that nothing I said or did made one lick of difference. Now I wasn’t so sure anymore. Compared to the coldness with which families lived in the Middle Ages, even my dad looked like a loving father. But then it was easy to look that way when you weren’t around much.
I was also bored. At first, I hadn’t thought it possible, but I had no tasks except to keep clean and find suitable things to eat.
To do something I started taking walks along the inner walls of the castle. Despite the increasing sharpness, the clean air felt refreshing after the horse smells in the barn and the many foul odors inside the castle.
Originally, I’d wanted to ask Lord Werner to do me a favor and hurt Ott in some way. After all it was impossible for me or Bero to visit Miranda’s manor without falling prey to Ott where he was strongest.
But by Saturday morning, I still hadn’t spoken to Werner, afraid the knight would ask me again about my life before Hanstein. Nor did I have any other ideas. I couldn’t fight Ott and playing a dumb prank like placing a pile of poop on the doorstep didn’t have near the impact in the Middle Ages, when human waste and reeking bodies were part of everyday living. Besides, it was way too good for Ott. I wanted him to suffer, not die—I reserved that hatred for the beadle.
Werner and his knights had assembled midmorning and ridden out, each of them dressed in formal Surcots topped with armor and helmets. A knight was a knight, I had learned and none went far without a sword and at least chainmail or leather. With Werner gone, Castle Hanstein had turned even more quiet: maids, servants and squires took a break while Lady Clara read and Catherine taught her children to read. And because the weather was damp, they stayed in their chambers.
I had also seen another woman who I knew to be Hans’s wife. But I never talked to her and didn’t care to. Nor had I tried to meet all the kids that ran around the castle who gave me a wide berth. They all seemed busy anyway.
Maybe now Juliana would have more time. I thought about her a lot these last few days, stopping in the hallway a few times, catching kisses and hugging her close. But I was unsure how to proceed. Chances were good she’d raise the interest of a knight and follow him to his bed one of these days. I had no delusions that sooner or later Juliana would be snatched up. She was far too pretty. Several of Werner’s men were young and seemed unattached. Already, I’d noticed several of them follow her with their eyes. Luckily, Juliana was out of the limelight and in the women’s chambers a lot. Then there were the cooks and servants, the other squires, each of them a potential rival.
I knew people married early, often as children. What if she asked me or expected me to ask her? I couldn’t possibly marry. I was in 11th grade barely thinking about college.
Hah, what if I’d never go back to my former life. What if living in medieval Germany was going to be my life? I had no skills, just what I’d picked up in school and from my parents, most of it useless around here.
I didn’t know a trade either. Eventually, Werner would kick me out or ask me to work. I saw myself, gray stringy hair, carrying chamber pots for the Lords. Great future.
I had to get home. But if I left I’d never see Juliana again. My heart beat faster, thinking about her hair and eyes, her breasts pushing against me in the gloominess of the hall.
I was screwed either way.
“Max?” Juliana came running from the courtyard. She’d braided her hair into a series of plaits and wound them around her head just like Lady Clara.
I couldn’t help but smile. “Your hair looks nice.”
She returned my smile and took my hand. “I’ll be free tonight. Lady Clara has given me the evening to do as I please. Will you meet with me?”
In search for my voice, I nodded. Here was my chance to have her to myself, learn more about what she wanted. “Great. What are we going to do?”
“We can’t leave,” she hurried. “It’d please me to see Mutter though.”
“Ott is busy with his birthday celebration. Tonight would be a perfect opportunity,” I said. “I’ll go with you—for protection—and afterwards we’ll have dinner at the Klausenhof.”
And after that we’ll find a dark spot in the barn.
“I’ve never been to the Klausenhof,” Juliana cried. “I couldn’t possibly go inside.”
“Why not? As long as we pay for our meal.”
“But I have no coin,” she cried.
“I’ve got some,” I said. “Lord Werner gave me a few after he heard that I lost it all to Schwarzburg.”
“Then it’s an agreement,” she said, planting a kiss on my cheek. “I’ll go back now. See you at dusk at the barn,” she yelled over her shoulder. “I’m so excited.”
With the prospect of spending Saturday night with Juliana, I found new energy. Maybe I’d find a solution after I spoke with her. For now I’d get cleaned up. I’d taken a few birdbaths, but a good swim was the only real solution.
I took a whiff. The wind had died down up here, which would mean even less of a breeze near the river. Few clouds dotted the sky. Weather forecasts were unknown but the air was reasonably warm despite the fall-colored trees.
Throwing a last glance toward the barn, I took off downhill, through the main gate and past the guards in the outer wall. I whistled, skipping across roots and piled-up l
eaves. Maybe I’d visit Luanda. She’d been good to me and… I stopped, smacking a hand against my forehead. I was such an idiot. Why hadn’t I thought of it before?
The old witch would know what to do about Ott. I thought of the earthen pots, her knowledge of herbs and plants. Maybe she could mix something to make Ott miserable. I thought of digitalis used for heart medicine. Surely the old woman had something on her shelves, I could give to Ott. That left the not so small problem of getting it to him and making sure he ate or drank it. I shook my head. First things first.
At the river I quickly undressed. The reeds had turned yellow, the cattails fluffy and brown. I quickly stepped through the muck into deeper water and swam against the current. The river was higher than I remembered and I had to work harder to make progress. It felt good to be strong again.
The memory of Juliana returned full-strength. I felt the urge to sing along with the familiar stirring under water. Maybe it was best to relieve the pressure before we met so I could concentrate on other things. The river’s banks were hidden in reeds and brush—private enough. I moved closer to the edge for better footing and went to work.
Significantly more relaxed I swam downstream, taking a last dunk under water to scrub my hair. Resurfacing I nearly went under again. Two voices spoke beyond the reeds.
“Who’d leave their robes lying ’round like this?”
“Someone swimming?” the second voice said.
“By the devil’s pointed tail, it’s October. What fool would bathe unless he wanted to drown himself,” the first voice barked.
“That must be it. I gather we shall have to report it. The Duke will want to know any suspicious activity.”
Steps moved toward the water’s edge and I pressed myself deeper into the grasses.
“Nothing here,” the second voice said. “The fool drowned.”
“Then let us make haste and see Schwarzburg right away.”
Shaking with cold, I shoved my knuckles into my mouth. What did these men have to do with the beadle?
“What’s the haste? We won’t attack Hanstein till midnight. Lord Werner won’t be back till the morrow, especially after Miranda gives them the potion. They’ll sleep like newborns.” The voice cracked into chuckles. “Imagine what he’ll find when he returns.”
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