The faint ringing of metal drifted into the barn. “The attack has begun,” I said as we scrambled out of the straw. Pulling her close, I whispered, “Go and hide with Lady Clara. Just in case.”
Chapter 35
I ran to the main gate. In the quarter moon, shadows moved across the open field of the bailey. Behind the closed door in the outer wall men waited with swords drawn. Many were on horses. As I came closer they slipped through the opening. The sharp clang of metal hitting metal erupted outside. Men shouted, screams echoed. I thought of the battle I’d listened to not long ago. The viciousness of the sounds made me cringe. No way I’d ever be able to do that.
I rushed along the wall, its shadow welcome protection. Above me arrows sang. Hanstein’s archers peeked across the heavy stone work taking aim. The unseen enemy fought back, shooting arrows into the bailey. Most of them missed and harmlessly landed in the grass. Chances were good I’d get hit if I stepped into the open. It was probably stupid to be here in the first place, but I couldn’t make myself hide.
The swordfight outside seemed to intensify and spread along the wall and into the trees toward Rimbach. Shouts of pain and fury mixed with thundering hooves, riders shouting commands and attacking from the saddle. I climbed onto the allure, a low-lying walk behind the wall.
Men and horses seethed as swords and spears clashed in close combat. Werner’s men were more agile and easily outdid their enemies. But Schwarzburg had brought plenty of help. He’d expected to drag off the women and children and fill out the vast space of Hanstein. Little by little the battle expanded toward the woods and out of sight.
“Anything I can do,” I shouted to one of the archers. “Fetch more arrows,” he hissed. “Make haste.”
The noise outside the gate grew louder still as I hurried toward the inner courtyard. I trembled just from listening to the horrific sounds—death had arrived at Hanstein’s doorstep. How could anyone go out there and be prepared to be cut to pieces? What if Werner got killed? I imagined him lying on the battle-field drenched in his own blood, my hands turning instantly clammy despite the cold. If Werner fell, the castle would be lost. Lame Hans didn’t have the same command over the men. He couldn’t even keep his balance to wield a sword. We’d all be taken prisoner.
The courtyard crawled with maids and servants. Everyone had a task except for me. I had no idea where to find arrows, but they surely had an armory. I stopped one of the squires carrying several swords. It was Christian, Werner’s oldest.
“Where are the arrows?”
Christian pointed toward the cellar doors near the keep. “Yonder.”
I returned with armfuls of long and short arrows. The crossbow warriors used short darts with lethal-looking metal tips. The long arrows spanned five feet, their metal tips sharpened to penetrate leather and chainmail. The bows were huge and took the strength of a prizefighter to operate. My arms grew numb with fatigue just from running back and forth delivering supplies.
“Take stock at the towers, they’ll need arrows,” one of the archers said. I stared at the two towers looming in the distance. I ran back, hugging the wall and then sprinting across the open field to the main gate. Suddenly, the bailey exploded in light. Flaming projectiles, arrows and assorted flying objects were landing in the grass and smashing against the castle walls. None were high or hard enough to make it into one of the windows.
Not yet, I thought. The straw and wood beams inside would explode in flames like an oilfield. I passed the portcullis where servants and maids scrambled to fill and deliver water buckets. They darted into the open, dousing the flames and the bailey returned to darkness. It was obvious that the Duke had not expected much resistance and could not maintain a long assault. And Werner had not only managed to return in time, he had summoned help from neighboring villages in time for the battle.
But Schwarzburg could easily return later starving out the castle, I thought, climbing the left tower. The arrow loops were occupied with men, aiming into the blackness below. It had to be a hundred yards or more and I saw nothing but woods and brush. Soon, I was climbing up and down, supplying the archers upstairs. I saw Bero do the same in the other tower and we waved at each other once.
As dawn sent the first light across the hills, the battle stopped. The Duke’s men or what was left of them vanished while the archers, knights and assorted foot soldiers returned to the courtyard. Some were bloodied, their armor nicked and dented. Several had injuries, but the losses were minimal.
I sighed with relief when I saw Werner pass through the crowd, patting people on the back, inspecting wounds and spreading encouragement. His face looked drawn with lack of sleep, but his eyes flashed the usual energy.
Amazing, I thought. I was ready to collapse just from backup duty. Werner had been up all night and fought a gruesome battle. I slumped down to rest my aching feet. Good thing, I wore my Nikes. I’d never have held up all night in the stupid medieval boots. I felt tired to the bone, but the knowledge of having prevented disaster kept me going.
“We did it,” Bero said, sagging into the straw next to me. “I hear a feast will be ready soon. “They’re preparing the great hall and the cooks are busy.”
I chuckled. If it had to do with food, Bero was in the know. “How can you always think about eating? I’d love to hear Schwarzburg right now. He must be thoroughly disgusted and wonder how he could’ve missed out on a sure thing.”
Bero giggled. But then he jumped up and stared toward the main gate. “They’re bringing the prisoners.”
I slowly followed him. About twenty men, their arms bound behind them, their clothes shredded, some bleeding, filed into the courtyard. They looked beaten and tired, more like normal villagers and peasants than soldiers. The beadle had probably forced them to fight or they had seen a way to earn a few coins. Most stared at the ground as they shuffled past Werner’s men toward the keep. Nobody spoke, not even the knights.
“Are they going to the dungeon?” I whispered. I thought of my stay with the beadle. It didn’t take long to die in a place like that. I’d never been in the keep which was saved for emergencies. Okay, that was technically untrue. I had been in it but six hundred years later at which time the keep no longer existed except for a few cellars and the nondescript hole of the former dungeon.
“Probably,” Bero said. Abruptly he turned toward me. “Why didn’t you finish Ott? He deserved it.”
“Deserved to die?”
Bero nodded. “He could’ve murdered my sister.”
Who you consider the property of the next man, I thought. I bounded to a stand, my nose an inch from Bero’s. The stress of fighting Ott, the lack of sleep and the battle had taken its toll.
“You jerk,” I hissed. “I risked my neck to save the castle. That I made it to Ott’s place was amazing. Not to mention that I got Lord Werner out in time. That I escaped Ott’s room in one piece is a miracle in itself.” My voice was steadily rising. I knew it but was powerless to stop. “That I managed to get the berries into his drink and that he actually ate them is hard to believe. And you ask me why I didn’t kill the guy.”
Bero, a few inches shorter than me, stood his ground. “That’s right. He’s going to come for us. He won’t forget and now he really hates us. He won’t stop looking. Not just you, but Juliana and me. Who knows, he may go after Mutter and Adela.”
The fury in me evaporated. I was out of energy. I hadn’t thought about the consequences. Ott was sure to put two and two together. He’d figure out that something in his food or drink had caused him to get sick. He’d ask about the berries in his wine, soon realizing that I had done it. He’d probably suspected when he passed out.
I hadn’t intended for Ott to know. Why did he have to get off the stupid bed right when I was sneaking away? I looked at my feet. Had I not wasted so much time with my shoes, I could’ve been out of Ott’s room earlier. But then I wouldn’t have planted the berries. I was utterly confused now. Nothing had worked as planned except for saving H
anstein. That had to count for something, but right now I was even too tired to think about that.
“I can’t kill someone that easy,” I said with a shrug. “You don’t understand. Where I come from, people don’t murder someone, even if those people have done wrong.”
Now Bero was getting wound up. “You call attacking Juliana with a pitchfork wrong. He’s a coward who full and well knew she might die. You saw her. And he thought nothing of taking her virtue.”
“I remember what I saw,” I said.
“And where do you come from, anyway,” Bero said, his eyes squinting with suspicion like the first time we’d met.
“I have nothing more to say.” Drained of the last shred of energy, I turned away. To my surprise, the courtyard was empty except for a couple maids lugging water buckets.
“Max Nerds, My Lord has requested your presence,” a servant shouted across the way.
“Coming,” I said, glad to get away from Bero. Marching toward the great hall I wondered what was going on. I’d really had it. This day had to end sometime.
But the servant wasn’t finished. “And that of your friend, Bero, the tanner’s son.”
I rolled my eyes. Right now, I didn’t want to be anywhere near the jerk.
Chapter 36
When I entered, the great hall turned quiet as a tomb. Still reeling from my fight with Bero, I looked at the knights, servants and maids in wonder. They all stared back. At the end of the head table, Lord Werner sat watching, the gas flames of his eyes turned on high. What had I done now?
I stopped in my tracks. They’d determined I was an alien. A spy. “My Lord,” I croaked into the silence.
With the force of a tornado, the great hall erupted in shouts and screams. The noise was so great that the torches seemed to flicker with the air movement. I shrank back and began to shake. At last, Lord Werner stood up and waved his arms in dismissal. The hollering petered to a low mumble.
“My faithful knights are full of vigor and frighten who they want to honor.” Werner climbed from his chair and approached me. I stood rooted to the flagstone. Neither my voice worked nor my feet.
“Valiant Max,” Werner said, placing his hands on my shoulders. “Or should I say, Sir Dagonet.” The hall exploded with laughter. “No need to be thunderstruck. We wish to thank you for your brave deed.” I watched the blue eyes crinkle into a smile. “Without you we may have lost our beloved Castle Hanstein.”
New cheers erupted as the knights raised their mugs and shouted, “Hail Max.”
The terrible tension finally left my body and I nearly toppled forward. “I don’t know what to say.”
“No need,” Lord Werner said. “Make room for Max and his loyal friend, Bero.”
I slumped on the bench while half a dozen hands shoved dishes and mugs in front of me. From the corner of my eye, I saw Bero rip the leg off some kind of roasted bird. He tore into it, dipping a hunk of bread into the sauce and gulping loudly.
I sat unmoving. I was numb. Hands slapped my back in congratulation. Faces smiled at me across the table. Men raised their glasses. I drank and nodded. I smiled. They all seemed detached—floating. Unreal like the last few weeks and yet more real than anything I’d ever experienced.
In the background, Knight Werner recounted my appearance at Miranda’s, his outfit, the ruse and their escape. “How I wish to see wretched Schwarzburg right now? He must surely be surprised how his well-laid plans failed so miserably.” The men around the tables howled with laughter and smacked their mugs on the table.
I inspected the pewter mug with the Hanstein crest. The wine tasted strange, tinny like blood. Unreal. I scanned the table loaded with roasts and bread, the gnawed bones scattered in wine and beer puddles.
“We must remain wary,” Werner was saying, his voice grave. “Schwarzburg will watch for an opportunity. I have a feeling he will not give up this easily.”
Opportunity was the last thing I heard before I slid off the bench.
When I woke, I was back in the huge bed. Behind the curtain Bero lay curled up and fast asleep in front of the fireplace. The wood had settled, but the room was comfortably warm. The light behind the single thick-glassed window looked dim. I had no idea how long I’d slept or what time it was. My head pounded. I slumped back down and dozed off.
The second time I woke, Bero was shaking my shoulder.
“What time is it?” I said peering into the gloom. The fire smoldered low and a couple tallow candles flickered near my bed.
“Eventide.”
“How long did I sleep?”
“All day. You fell off the seat and lay there like a dead turtle. We carried you up here.” He chuckled and stretched his arms. It reminded me of a cat. “Juliana took care of you, but you just snored for hours.”
“Can’t remember a thing.” I leaned on my elbows, feeling hungry again.
“Better get up,” Bero said.
“What’s the hurry?”
“The Lord has asked us to attend the feast. They’re assembling in the great hall right now. We’ll be late because of you.”
I sighed. I was hungry all right, but I would’ve much preferred a quiet meal with Juliana in the barn.
As if on cue, Bero said, “Juliana and Lady Clara will be there, too.”
“In that case.” I climbed out of bed. This time they’d left me my linen underwear. On top I pulled on the various clothes I’d assembled, followed by my Nikes.
Bero sat watching. He had a funny look on his face. “Are you going to marry her?”
I turned around. “Who, what?” I’d been distracted, thinking about my promise to replace Enders’s boots I’d lost at Ott’s place.
“Juliana. Are you going to marry her?”
I stopped tying my shoes and stared at my friend who was a total pain in the butt and had a knack to bring up questions at the worst possible time. I’m in high school, a teenager, I wanted to say. I’m lost in your damn world. How can I marry a fifteen-year-old girl? It was statutory rape where I came from.
Bero took my silence as a no. “Cause if you don’t, you need to tell her. She loves you.”
I sighed. “It’s complicated.”
“What’s that?”
“I can’t explain it right now!” I groaned in frustration. Communicating was a total drag when you had to bridge six hundred years.
“Why not? What’s difficult about it? You’re either devoted or you aren’t.”
“Can’t we do this later?” I said. I wanted nothing more than to leave the room. I tried a smile, but Bero was obviously not in the mood to return it. In fact, his brows pulled together in an angry squint.
“She expects an answer. Soon. If not, she’ll have to marry one of the squires. Like Enders. He’s a good, strong lad. He’ll take care of her.” Bero sounded almost triumphant.
The thought of Juliana being patted down by Enders’s paws, made me cringe. “Not Enders,” I managed as we hurried downstairs and crossed the courtyard toward the great hall.
But Bero was on a roll, shoveling salt into my wounds. “He’ll be a knight when he turns twenty-one. And a good one at that. He’ll keep her safe from the other lechers. Including Ott!” Bero’s voice had risen. “She’ll need all the protection she can get.”
“Thanks for reminding me,” I said, nodding to the servant who stood guard in front of the entrance to the hall.
To my surprise, the man bowed and said, “Please wait here.”
I turned toward Bero. “I promise to talk to you after the meal. To Juliana, too. Until then I want you to keep your mouth shut. Can you do that for me?”
“Lackwit!” Bero muttered.
“What?
“Nothing.”
“Good.” I wanted to punch him.
The servant reappeared and bowed again. “Please follow me.”
We entered the great hall, blazing with a hundred torches. Instead of the usual craziness, the earsplitting noise of shouted stories and laughter, the room was completely
silent. And every bench, corner and nook was filled with assorted knights, ladies, soldiers, squires, maids and man servants. To my surprise, the doorman headed toward Werner who sat regally in his formal chair I knew from court.
The servant curtsied and shouted, “My Lord, Max Nerds and Bero, the tanner’s son.”
Werner waved acknowledgement. Still the great hall remained silent. I tried to look around, but the blue eyes were drawing me in. Next to Werner, his first knight, Sir Konrad, dressed in a heavy blood-red cape, his black curls tamed under a matching hat, stood waiting.
I felt small and shaky all of a sudden. I carefully looked sideways. The spectators had gotten up. Lady Catherine, Werner’s wife, lingered near the spot, where Werner usually sat. In the back, Juliana and Lady Clara watched with stony faces.
“Sir Konrad, call forward by name those to be inducted into the Order of Squire of the Knights of Chivalry,” Werner’s voice boomed. “Let them stand and be honored.”
Konrad bowed, opened a parchment and began to read. “Today, there are two among us to be honored. Max Nerds, step forward and hear your order.”
I stared. What was going on now? The great hall hovered in stillness. At last, I saw Konrad’s forefinger twitch and wave at me.
“Step in front of your Lord and hear your order.”
I walked toward the great chair.
“Max Nerds,” Konrad announced, “are you willing to be inducted into the Order of Squire of the Knights of Chivalry, seeking to serve your master and all beside him, and those younger and in need of your help, exemplifying all the virtues of the Knights of the Chivalry?”
Konrad nodded at me while Werner sat motionless. His eyes had never sparkled bluer.
I looked back and forth between the two knights and wondered what I was supposed to do. The answer came thanks to Konrad who sensed my confusion.
“If you agree, you shall say, With Gottes help and his ultimate wisdom, I am.”
I nodded. “With Gottes help and his ultimate wisdom, I am.”
Escape from the Past Page 25