The bread was grainy with oats and rye. I ripped chunks off with my teeth. The roast tasted like somebody had dumped half their spice cabinet on it. I took another bite of the bread to revive my burning tongue. Medieval cooking at its finest.
Throughout the day we took turns renewing the wrap and dripping tea. After a while Lady Clara starting licking her lips. It was a good sign.
“Let’s try some broth now,” I said to Juliana. Bero leaned against the bedpost, his sword across his lap, his gaze fixed on the corner. I was glad he’d found a new purpose. The medicos glared at us, but remained quiet.
But I wasn’t satisfied. The Lady’s cheeks still glowed and I sent Juliana to get more water while I collected more herbs. Luckily, nobody stopped me. The sun stood in the west and the heat shimmered above the garden. I was drenched in minutes and hurried back to the room. The eight-foot thick walls kept things cool. Until winter when nothing warmed them.
I repeated the steam tent and pine wrap. When I took down the sheet the second time, Lady Clara had closed her eyes. I bent lower, suddenly anxious. But her breathing sounded calm and regular. She was sleeping. I slumped on the ground next to Bero exhausted.
“The Lord is expecting me,” the medicos said, sensing an opening.
“You are staying until we are ready,” Bero said. Our eyes met. “A word—outside?”
I nodded.
Bero followed me into the next room. “I cannot keep the medicos forever,” he said. “He will make trouble. Or someone will search for him. How much longer?”
“No idea. She’s sleeping now, but we must repeat the steam and feed her more tea and broth.”
“I will give you until morning,” Bero said. “Then we have to make a decision.”
I smiled. Bero had said we.
When we reentered the room, the corner was empty. Bero and I swung around. The old geezer had taken hold of Juliana and pointed the fire poker at her neck.
“Let me go now.” he huffed “Drop the sword.”
Bero scrutinized the old man. Then his sister. Slowly, he pulled the sword from his hip sheath and laid it on the floor.
“Over there, sit next to the floor by the window. Both of you.”
While Bero and I moved toward the outer wall, the medicos inched his way to the door. Suddenly, he shoved Juliana in the back. While she stumbled across the room, he yanked open the door and disappeared into the stairwell.
Bero was on his feet in lightning speed and sprinted after him. Even faster than his squirrel days, I thought, as I tried to catch up to them. I’d picked up the sword and found Bero and the medicos in a heap at the bottom of the stairwell.
Despite his age, the medicos was tough and sinewy, his bony hands clamping around Bero’s neck.
“Let him go.” I pointed the sword at the old man’s face while Bero scrambled to stand. For a second he looked suspicious. “Take the sword, I said.”
I threw a last glance outside. Dusk was settling. I’d only been in the game one day.
All night I kept waking, getting up and redoing the steam bath and poultice. A few times, Juliana woke and helped me dribble more tea and broth. Bero sat in shadows near the window to keep an eye on the medicos. In the dim glow of the one tallow candle—I’d insisted on a single light to keep the air free of soot—it was hard to tell if he slept.
I didn’t think so. Bero seemed to take his new role as squire seriously. Of course, it wasn’t really new. He’d been at it for a while. While I’d gone to school and passed eleventh grade, Bero had been sword fighting and learning a thing or two about honor.
In the early morning, when a feeble dawn trickled into the room and I leaned dozing against the foot of the bed, somebody coughed.
At first, I thought it was Juliana. But she’d rolled up near the fire and was sound asleep. The noise had come from the bed. There…another rustle. Somebody was moving. I scrambled to my feet and bent over the bed.
Lady Clara’s eyes were open. While they had stared at the canopy yesterday, they now focused on me. She blinked and coughed again, her bony fingers tugging at the wrap on her chest.
“No, no, leave it,” I whispered. “It’ll help you heal.”
“Max Nerds?” Lady Clara’s voice was soft, yet clear.
“My Lady, I’m happy you’re feeling better.”
She coughed again. The crud was breaking up. “Do you have something to eat for me?” she said.
Our mumbling had awakened Juliana and she rushed to the bed. “My Lady, you are better,” she cried.
“My Lady is hungry,” I said. I wanted to sing and shout, but I knew it was early and things could take a turn for the worse any moment. “Will you warm the broth?”
Juliana hurried to reheat the food while I got busy with more steam and wraps. After a while when Lady Clara had gone back to sleep, Juliana came to sit next to me.
“You are healing her,” she whispered. She threw an angry glance at the medicos who snored in the corner. “That man tried to kill her.”
“I don’t think he did it on purpose,” I said. “He’s just thick.”
“Thick?”
“He doesn’t know any better.”
“But has the ears of the lordship.” Bero jumped to his feet and stretched. “I will let him go today, so we better have a good tale.” He glanced at me. “It is time you tell us what happened to you.”
I nodded.
Bero slid down the bedpost and came to sit next to me, his eyes never leaving the huddled black shape in the corner. Juliana sat down by the fire, the anger in her eyes replaced by expectation. I wanted to call her to me, have her sit on my lap and lose myself.
Timing was bad as usual.
“I need you to have an open mind,” I said. “Allow me to explain—even if you don’t understand.”
Brother and sister nodded.
“Remember the first time I showed up in the woods?” I felt the sting on the back of my head where Bero had hit me with a pinecone half a million years ago. “Remember how I was dressed? My shoes, the knife…my T-shirt.”
“What is a T-shirt?” Bero said.
“Shh, let him speak,” Juliana scolded.
“I know how this sounds, but you must believe me. I’m not stupid nor have I lost my mind.” I paused. “Where I come from, I played a game on a comp— I played a game and I traveled through time and arrived…here.” My friends had turned to stone.
“What year is it?” I said into the stillness.
“Why don’t you know?” Bero asked. He was getting antsy.
“You asked me that last time,” Juliana said. “It is 1473. You were gone over two years.”
I sighed. Karl had programmed the game correctly. He’d said I’d meet him in 1473 and he’d figured out a way to manipulate the code to send me here. Two years are a long time, my mind mocked. It’s only August and who knows where Karl is. “I understand you guys are pissed at me.”
Something stirred in the corner. The medicos mumbled and sat up. Bero got to his feet and pulled out his sword, the blade at the man’s eye level.
“Not a move,” he hissed.
“Is she dead,” the medicos said, stretching his wrinkly neck and trying to catch a glimpse of the bed.
“No, she is better,” Juliana said, getting to her feet. “And no thanks to you.”
“Juliana?” The low voice of Lady Clara cut through the room as if she had shouted.
“My Lady.” Juliana clambered to the bed. “You are better.”
“My Lady,” the medicos groveled. “I am pleased to see your vigor is returning. May I alert the Lord of your betterment?”
“Yes.” Lady Clara waved her arm in dismissal. “You may leave.”
The medicos bowed and shuffled to the door, his eyes on Bero and his sword. Nobody spoke until the man had left.
I cleared my throat and waved Juliana to me. “It may be a good idea if you washed her with warm pine water,” I whispered. “To help get rid of the germs.”
&nbs
p; “Germs?”
“Invisible bugs that make you sick.”
Juliana shuddered. But she returned to the bed. “Max here says I should wash you.”
“Will it make me better, dear Max?” Lady Clara asked.
“Yes, it will,” I said and couldn’t help take a bow myself. “We will leave you in private now.” There were things I refused to do and seeing Lady Clara naked was one of them.
Bero hurried after me as I moved to the front room.
They’d soon arrest me but I didn’t care. I’d done something important—something good. I had no doubt, the medicos would denounce me and Lame Hans would delight in throwing me in the dungeon. Who knew what these guys were capable of? We should’ve gone with him to do damage control, but I was tired and Bero didn’t appear too fresh himself. Sure enough heavy footsteps plod up the staircase.
They were coming.
Chapter 9
The first person appearing in the doorway was the suspicious guard I’d met at the gate. “You?”
I nodded.
“How did you get through?” He lunged forward, his eyes dark with suspicion. “Over here with your arms forward.”
As I stepped toward the man, the room filled with more sentries, all clad in chainmail and half helmets. Though they wore the crest of Hanstein on their vests, they appeared to be lower knights or simple swordsmen.
“My Lord wants to see you.” The guard sliced the air in front of my ribcage with a short curved dagger, his mouth pinched in anger. He seemed ready to skewer me, his prisoner, probably furious that he’d have to explain how I’d made it into the castle under his watch.
“I will come along,” Bero announced. Nobody paid attention to him. The medicos had found an easy target with the new idiot named Max.
I kept my eyes on the assortment of blades shimmering gray and looking sharp enough to take off my head in a single swipe.
We marched past the great hall, along another corridor and up a flight of winding stairs. With every step I worried more.
Werner was gone. He was the only person with enough sense and power to stop Lame Hans. Add to that the medicos, and I was as good as in the dungeon.
Hans sat in a small room in an ornately carved chair with lion’s feet, nearly black with age and use. The wall shelf behind him was loaded with leather-bound books, a bronze scale and stacks of parchment. Hans and another man I recognized as the castle’s steward were bending over a book with long columns of numbers.
Next to the desk loitered the medicos, his eyes glued to me with a smug expression.
“My Lord, I present you the absconder, Max Nerds,” the guard said. For good measure he grabbed my left forearm and squeezed until I thought I had no blood left in my veins. The sprain in my right hand throbbed along in protest.
Hans lifted an arm and shook his head. He and the steward continued, drawing more numbers with an ink quill and mumbling to each other.
I had trouble standing still. I’d had a lousy night, no breakfast and yesterday hadn’t exactly been easy.
At last the scratching of the quill ceased and Hans looked up. His eyes narrowed when they met mine.
“Max Nerds, what a surprise. We all deemed you departed and dead. What brings you back to Hanstein uninvited and without permission?”
“I came with the wine merchant.” I winced. I sounded like the idiot again. I couldn’t help it. Hans sucked the oxygen from the room with his sarcasm.
“Isn’t it strange that the merchants were unaware of your presence?”
“I went to visit Lady Clara. And when I found out she was sick, I took care of her.”
“Against the strict orders of the medicos who is schooled in such matters?” Hans straightened his right shoulder, which appeared permanently twisted to one side. The medicos furiously nodded.
“He nearly destroyed her,” I blurted. “The room was full of rotten smoke. The lady couldn’t even breathe. I disinfected…cleaned the air and helped her fight the illness.”
“He meddled in my affairs, endangering Lady Clara’s life,” the medicos said, his voice dripping with indignation. “A treacherous conjuror sent by the devil. It is clear that My Lady is better from my consistent and skilled applications. The bloodletting is finally taking effect.”
“I beg you, My Lord,” I said. I wanted to jump across the desk and smack sense into the old geezer. “She’s better because of what I did.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Hans said. “During your last visit you were made a squire—because of my brother’s good heart and against my judgment and advice. Now you return, uninvited I might add, and declare yourself a healer?”
“I watched it with my own eyes,” Bero said. “He also helped my sister.” Though wedged between a sword and the table, unable to turn around, I wanted to hug my friend.
“I fail to see how it is your concern, Squire Bero,” Hans said. “Your presence is no longer needed.”
“But, My Lord, Max saved the Lady’s life. Juliana…she can attest to it,” Bero said.
“Enough! Take your leave at once,” Hans boomed. “In any case I shall take matters to Konrad, your Master. He needs a squire he can trust. You will answer to why you did not alert me of an intruder within Hanstein’s walls. You endangered Hanstein and everyone here.”
“Yes, My Lord.” Bero was furious by the way he shouted. But openly disobeying the Lord of Hanstein was not an option. Not even for the first squire of Konrad.
The door snapped shut.
“Take him away,” Hans said to the guard who resumed mangling my forearm with glee.
We marched past the self-righteous muck of the medicos into the courtyard. I sniffed. The air smelled like a mix of horse dung, roses and body odor. Straight ahead loomed the keep and below it waited Hanstein’s dungeon.
The guard opened a heavy oak door reinforced with iron latches. Behind it, steps led into darkness. To my surprise the men marched past and stopped in front of another door, equally thick and crisscrossed with plated steel. Keys rattled and the guard pushed me through.
Like Schwarzburg’s cell on Rusteberg, this one was above ground and only slightly better than a dungeon. Light filtered through a shoebox-sized hole near the ceiling, which was so high that I couldn’t see a speck of sky. Adjusting to the gloom, I stepped off my new cell when my foot got stuck in what at first seemed like a bundle of clothes. The bundle moaned.
I jumped. “Excuse me. I didn’t notice you in the dark.”
The heap moved a bony arm and groaned. A terrible stench emanated from it as if something were rotting.
“Water,” it said.
I scrambled to the door where I’d seen a couple of buckets. One was definitely used as a toilet. The other one with a ladle stuck inside smelled musty and sloshed when I lifted it. I hurried to the man.
“Here.” I kneeled to support the prisoner’s back who’d slowly rolled on his elbows. Slurping ensued as the prisoner drank through cracked lips. His face was nearly black with filth and a nest of beard, his hair strings of grayish brown. In the gloom, I couldn’t tell how old he was or the color of his eyes.
“Better.” The man’s voice quivered.
“I’m Max Nerds,” I said as I returned the ladle. I leaned against the wall near the door. Better to keep my distance. Who knew what diseases the guy had?
“What?”
“I said my name is Max Nerds,” I shouted. The guy had gone deaf.
The prisoner who couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred pounds struggled to sit. He groaned, pulled up his knees and rested his back against the massive stone wall. His pants or what was left of them were an indefinable gray, his shirt hung in shreds, the skin visible through the tears covered under muck. Yet, his eyes had returned to life as he stared at me.
“A strange name for the Middle Ages,” he said.
I shrugged. “What do you mean?” The guy kept gawking and I shrank back into my corner. He was nuts.
The cell turned silent. In
the darkness rats scavenged. It was hard to make out the face of the crumpled-looking figure. Only the eyes sparkled.
“You’re playing the game,” the man said as calmly as if he’d been sitting in a comfortable chair in my living room.
I blinked. “What?”
“The game,” the man said, now impatient. “Do you think I don’t know where you’ve come from?”
“Yeah, the game,” I said to buy time. Then I jumped up. “You mean you played EarthRider.”
A rough sound like laughter mixed with sobbing emanated from the straw. “And regretted it every day since.”
That’s when it hit me.
“Karl?” I hurried to the other side and slumped into the straw across from the hunched-over shape. “How long have you been here?”
“How do you know me?” Looking confused, Karl leaned his head against the stone with a sigh as if it were too heavy to carry. “I haven’t used that name in a long time.”
“But, you…” I began. I stared at the skeletal figure. “I didn’t expect you…not like this. What happened?”
“You know Stuler, I assume,” Karl said.
I nodded remembering how Karl had showed up at my door, trying to explain himself. Then his daughter Emma had barged in and demanded I return to the game to get her father out.
Present day Karl had insisted I’d saved him. How in the heck was I going to do that when we were both sitting in jail?
And even though I’d expected to meet him, I tried to hide my shock. He was hardly recognizable and more dead than alive. Since we had met in the present after he’d played and before I’d returned to Hanstein a second time, he’d only seen me once in the woods when I’d first arrived in the game and Schwarzburg’s thugs cut off his middle finger.
Meanwhile Karl continued, “The game was supposed to be the newest, most ground-breaking interactive game ever. Worldwide distribution. Every kid with a computer buying one. We spent millions, hundreds of thousands of hours. A sure winner. Ha!” Karl spat.
Of course, I knew all that. I let him ramble.
“When they needed volunteers, I offered. Oh, I was just as excited as everyone else. A total immersion game with real people.” Karl coughed, a dry, wheezing sound as if he had hay in his lungs.
At Witches' End Page 6