“Lady Clara, it’s Max,” I shouted at the bedroom door.
“Come.”
The Lady sat on the stone window seat, swaddled in blankets. The piece of needlework she was holding sank to her lap.
I bowed low, undecided what to do next. “My Lady, thank you again.”
“Dear Max, let me do the thanking. You saved me from the medicos.” Lady Clara took a deep breath. “No more rattling. I’m still weak, but my lungs are better.”
“He dared to return and restart his smoking pots.” Juliana rushed past me, carrying a basket with cups and a flask. “I told him to leave. He refused. Luckily, My Lady was well enough to send him off,” she said, laying out bread, cold meat, apples and a honey cake on the walnut chest.
I stared. With the pressure off, now that I was legitimately at Hanstein, I couldn’t get enough looking at her. The bodice of her dress clung to her skin and was tied below her breasts. She’d added bits of lace around the collar and when she leaned forward I saw her cleavage. Concentrate, Max. I yanked away my eyes and moved to the window.
“What can I do for you, My Lady?”
“Strengthen yourself, young Max. Juliana is taking good care of me.” Her voice was full of mirth and I followed her gaze to my feet. “It appears your robes are in need of help. Have I been ill this long that it is winter already?”
“Sorry, eh, just expected it to be colder.” I inventoried the offerings and began to eat.
“It is early September”—Juliana laughed—“and quite warm. I can ask the squires for boots.” She bowed low, but her shoulders still quivered.
Great. They think I look like a clown. “I need a different tunic and pants, too.”
“I will ask,” Juliana said.
“I have another request,” I said after Juliana left. “In my cell is another prisoner.”
Lady Clara’s hands, still bony and bluish, fluttered. “Do I know this man? Who is he?”
“A friend. I met him before…he is from the same place as I am? He’s really sick,” I hurried. “If I don’t help him quickly, he’ll die.”
“What did he do to deserve such treatment?”
I shrugged. “He was hungry and hunted a deer.”
Lady Clary sighed. “It will be hard to argue his case. If Lord Werner were here, he’d take pity. But Lame Hans is another matter. He is…a hard man.” She shook her head. “I have used my favor getting you out, I am afraid. He will not allow it.” She gazed out the window as if to find answers in the darkening sky. “He disapproves of me…here. Lord Werner and I…” She turned her gaze back on me, her eyes filled with tears. “Not even after Lady Katherine died.”
“Lady Katherine?”
“Werner’s wife. She passed almost two years ago. She was unwell—never recovered after the miscarriages. It made her crazy. She blamed Werner, though he tried to help her.” She sighed. “I should not tell you this.”
“Do you know when Werner will return?”
Lady Clara shook her head. “He left weeks ago, after all the cows disappeared.”
“Cows?”
“Schwarzburg’s work. He stole all the livestock from Hanstein’s villages, trying to force Werner out. He accused the Lord of burning down two barns filled with Schwarzburg’s goods. It is a lie. I know…the Lord.”
I don’t doubt that. I remembered how Werner had looked when he kissed the Lady’s hand. There’d been a lot more going on behind closed doors.
“So, he’s trying to get his cows back?”
“I think. He was so angry, he just stormed out. Took all his knights and left in the early morning. I was too sick to see him off.”
I bowed. “You should rest.”
Lady Clara couldn’t help me. I had to find another way. And there was still the matter of the wallet. Even if I sprung Karl from the cell, we needed to find his wallet. I thought of the Klausenhof and shuddered. My escape had been close. Otherwise I’d sit in Schwarzburg’s dungeon and that would’ve been infinitely worse.
“I’ll leave you now,” I said aloud. “Just call for me if you need anything. We’ll do more herb treatments in the morning.”
I hurried downstairs. I had to help Karl, but it was hard to concentrate when Juliana was waiting.
“I have your robes,” she said as I entered the barn. “All the squires gave something. We had a few extra boots.”
I took inventory and chose a pale green tunic with a leather belt. The pants were the dark brown of wet earth and made of linen. At least no leggings. I hated running around like a ballet dancer on opening night. The men around here had no problem showing off bulging crotches.
I peered up from my new shoes and searched for her eyes. They were nearly black in the shadowy glow of the barn, but there was something not quite right. She didn’t want to meet my eyes. Well, she looked, but the expression of adoration I remembered and loved wasn’t quite there.
“Want to take a walk?” I said, ignoring the pounding of my heart.
“I must attend Lady Clara,” Juliana said.
“Just a few minutes?”
“Minutes?”
I stared at her, remembering that people in the Middle Ages didn’t count time in minutes. “A few moments?”
“I…fine.”
We walked through the portcullis into the outer bailey. A cool breeze whispered across the open stretch of meadow. Dim lights danced from the castle’s main living quarters above us.
I racked my brain of what to say. In my mind I’d done nothing else for months, but now that I finally had her to myself, I couldn’t think of one decent thing that made sense.
“You look nice,” I tried. Mr. Smooth.
Juliana kept walking and remained silent.
At last I couldn’t take it anymore. “Juliana. What’s wrong?” Somehow my hand made it to her forearm and I pulled her to a stop. “What is it? Tell me.”
Juliana shook her head so vehemently that her hair flew like a dark curtain and came to rest on her back. “You left,” she cried. “You disappeared without a word. Just gone.”
“I’m sorry. I tried to tell you. It wasn’t my choice.”
“Your tale, what you explained earlier, made no sense. No sense at all.”
To my surprise, she started to cry and took off the way we’d come, disappearing through the gate.
“Great,” I mumbled. “That went well.”
I stood for a moment, gazing into the night sky. Clouds raced across the half-moon, creating giant shadows on the ground. The breeze had picked up and I shivered. I had to get my clothes and lighter from the Klausenhof. Before they disappeared.
The more items I brought into the game, the more risk I took losing them. And if I lost one thing, I couldn’t travel back. I was sure of it. That had to be biggest flaw of the game. A deadly flaw. I had no doubt some of the other betas were stuck in the past, clueless about having lost some item they’d carried with them. And Stuler was ready to sacrifice his lab rats for his own gain.
Swallowing my growing irritation, I hurried back into the courtyard. There was no sign of Juliana. A couple of servants stood in the shadow of a pine torch near the entrance to the great hall, sharing a pipe.
I didn’t feel much like talking and headed to the barn. I’d try speaking with Juliana again tomorrow. And the day after.
“Got you a flagon.” Bero sat on a hay bale in one of the empty stalls. By the looks of it, he’d had a head start. His cheeks burned red like the wine he was drinking and his eyes were glassy.
“Sure,” I said, glad to get my mind off Stuler and girls. I’d never figure them out—neither in this century nor six-hundred years from now.
“Something the matter,” Bero said.
“Your sister is upset.”
“If you are surprised about that, you are a greater lackwit than I thought.”
“I thought I was a dimwit,” I choked, renewed anger making it hard to talk. I was ready to get drunk. No discussion needed.
“What is s
he supposed to do when Enders returns with the Lord?”
“What does Enders have to do with anything?” I took a deep swig and handed the bottle back to Bero.
“She did not tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
Bero swore something that sounded like a combination of mewling, maggot-pie and assorted body parts. “She vowed to marry Enders.”
“What?” I yelled. I jumped off the bale and kicked the wooden enclosure. “He’s an animal.”
“Enders is the best squire on Hanstein,” Bero said, matter-of-factly. For a moment he sounded totally sober. “He fights for two, teaches the younger kids and works hard. Even if he is ill-tempered sometimes, he is devoted to Juliana.”
“Bullshit! Give me the wine.” I ripped the flagon from Bero’s hand and gulped.
Bero stared at me. “Juliana was distraught when you went missing. After that she got mad. Enders has had his eyes on her for a long time. He will be a knight when he turns twenty-one, a good husband to her.”
“But I…”
“What?”
“Nothing.” I slumped back down, finishing the rest of the bottle in one long swallow. Granted, I’d been gone a long time. That didn’t mean Juliana was supposed to hook up with the next best jerk. Why had I returned? Except for rescuing Karl they were all getting along great without me. Karl had been right. I was a fool.
When I finally looked up, Bero had disappeared. I wandered toward the back and found him rolled up in a straw-speckled wool blanket. Sleep had relaxed his features and he reminded me of the kid I’d first met in the woods. I wasn’t really sure I liked the new Bero.
What difference did it make? I was alone and Juliana out of reach. I grabbed another blanket and tried to sleep. But despite the wine, my mind refused to shut down. Damn game. Here I’d assumed I needed to help Bero and Juliana. Ha! They were doing perfectly fine. And now I was stuck here in this ridiculous medieval life when I could’ve been hanging out with Jimmy, watching girls and eating pizza.
I remembered the bread and apple I’d kept back from dinner. Might as well go and visit Karl. I snuck into the next stall where I’d left my stuff. Hard to believe medieval clothes had no pockets.
The courtyard was deserted. The keep towered straight ahead, a massive three-story silhouette of gray stone—doggedly built by peasants and serfs. The inky shadow wanted to swallow me as I groped for the door, the air instantly twenty degrees cooler inside.
If anyone asked I’d say I was lost. Chances were good there was no guard. It was impossible to scale the walls or squeeze through the tiny opening of the cell. Karl couldn’t have lifted a twenty-pound bag if he wanted to, not to mention come up with an escape plan.
The hall was even darker. I’d forgotten how black things were without light bulbs and street lanterns. I sensed my way along the rough wall to the wooden framework of a door.
“Karl?” I whispered.
Nothing.
I kneeled and fingered for the slot in the door. “Karl.”
Still nothing. Maybe the guy had died. Or he was no longer inside. But that couldn’t be. The fact he was alive in present day meant he’d escaped from here. Question was…how.
“Can you hear me, Karl?”
“Max.” The feeble sound seemed to come from a hundred yards away.
“I’ve got food.”
For a moment, it was silent. I suppressed a shout when my hand was squeezed. Karl’s fingers were cold and dry like bones bleached clean in the desert.
“It is you.” Karl’s voice swung between hope and defeat. “I thought they killed you.”
“I’m helping Lady Clara,” I said. “Take the bread and apple. I’ll bring more tomorrow.” Hearing his weak voice, I felt terrible for waiting this long. “Tell me again about the wallet. When exactly did you lose it?”
I heard chewing as Karl swallowed the bread.
“It was last winter, December or January. I can’t remember. My brain…anyway. I’d been drinking by myself at the bar when Lord Ott came in with a couple of his friends. He was loud and pretty loaded but he ordered more wine. I would’ve minded my own business, had I not heard the coin purse smack on the table.
“‘Anyone here ready for a game of dice,’ Ott had hollered. I had a few coins to my name after helping the smith in town shoe horses. It’s hellish work, but anyway.”
I wanted to yell for Karl to hurry up. “So you played dice and won,” I said aloud.
“Won almost the entire purse. Ott was stinking mad. He had barely enough to pay the innkeeper. After he left, I went to the barn where I’d arranged a sleeping spot. When I woke up the next morning, the velvet purse I’d been using was gone. And so was my wallet. My wife’s… Emma’s photo, driver’s license, you name it.
“I’m surprised they didn’t arrest you for witchcraft. Anything they can’t explain is sorcery.”
“I snuck away, too afraid of being caught.”
“So you don’t know who took your wallet. It could’ve been someone else?”
“True.”
“Better go to sleep.”
For a moment, Karl didn’t answer. “Get yourself home,” he finally said. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
“I’ll try.”
Easy for Karl to say. What choice did I have? My ticket home was at the Klausenhof. They had my cape and lighter. Without them I was stuck no matter what I’d accomplished in missions. Unthinkable I’d never see my mom again. Even the meetings with my father, him marrying again no longer phased me.
Okay, they were bad. Especially the marrying part. Why couldn’t he find somebody his own age? At least I’d been safe.
I woke to the pale light of dawn. Weird how I slept a lot less here, I mused as I pulled on my medieval boots and tied the straps in place. My armpits reeked and my crotch itched. Chances were good I’d picked up lice again. I really needed a bath.
“The Lady won’t be up for a while,” Bero said. He was leaning across the enclosure, straw sticking from his hair and tunic. “Help me with the horses.”
“Got other things to do,” I said, heading past him.
“Like what?”
“Like none of your business.”
“You have a bad dream or something,” he sneered. “I think the lad is nutty about my wench sister.”
I pressed my lips together and strode outside. I needed to pee and Bero was a jerk.
To my annoyance, Bero followed and joined me behind the barn.
“Nothing like a good piss,” Bero said with unfailing cheer. I wanted to smack him in the nose.
As I made my way toward the gate, Bero remained by my side.
“Can’t you leave me alone?” I finally yelled. “Isn’t it enough that you all don’t give a damn? Have a nice life.”
“Now you wait a minute.” Bero gripped my shoulder and with surprising force yanked me to a stop. “You left us, remember. For two years nobody saw you. We thought you were dead. Eaten by wolves or attacked by thugs and buried in a shallow grave. Secretly strangled by Ott. But no, you just traveled away without the faintest wish to tell us before you left. And then you show up out of nowhere and expect us to fall all over ourselves with joy.” He stepped back and scanned me from head to foot. “You were my friend and you left as if I meant nothing to you.”
To my surprise Bero’s voice sounded hoarse.
For a moment no words formed in my brain, we both staring at each other as if it were the first time.
“I didn’t mean to leave. You were… are my friend. I’ve thought about you a lot. I thought you’d be attacked by Ott or Schwarzburg. And that I had to explain…where I’d gone. That’s why I returned.”
“Just because of me?”
“Okay Juliana, too. And Lord Werner.” And Karl.
To my relief, Bero grinned. “Lover lad.” The smile faded. “It is too late for her. And your tale about a game and time-travel. Ha! It is the dumbest legend ever.” Bero hurled the piece of straw he’d been chewing into th
e dust. “Now tell me where you are going.”
“The inn.” I clamped my mouth shut. I wanted to explain, wanted Bero to believe me.
“Why would you go where they nearly slayed you?”
“I have to. They’ve got my stuff.”
“What stuff?”
“My cape and…a trinket.” Better not mention Karl’s wallet. Bero didn’t know what it was anyway.
“Why didn’t you say so? Time to go.” Bero turned and walked toward the gate.
“You aren’t going,” I said, hurrying after him.
“Why?”
“Too dangerous. They may catch you.”
“I am the head squire of Konrad, the first Knight to Lord Hanstein,” Bero said. “And friends stick together.”
“Schwarzburg wouldn’t care if you were the Pope’s squire.”
Bero crossed himself. “Shh, do not say that.” We arrived at the gate and Bero nodded at the guard to open the barricaded door. “Either way, you are a lackwit out there. And I am not leaving.”
“Don’t you have horses to feed?” I tried as we passed through the opening. I scanned the trees, a shiver running up my back about leaving Hanstein’s walls. I’d been trapped and useless inside, but out here, the feeling of vulnerability took over. Anyone could get to me…us.
Suddenly I was glad about Bero’s company.
“Thanks, man,” I said, slapping Bero on the back. “Let me tell you what I want to do.”
Chapter 11
When the inn came into view we slowed down. No horses were outside this morning, the flagstone terrace deserted. We stopped behind the trunk of the huge oak tree and scrutinized the windows.
“We should go around back,” Bero whispered.
I nodded and we hurried past stalls and pens to the stables. The roof of the pigsty had been propped up and leaned to one side. We entered the barn where patrons left their horses overnight. A boy was carrying a bucket of oats into one of the partitions.
“There, eat,” he mumbled to the black gelding sniffing his breakfast.
When the boy turned, we stepped in his way.
“Good morn,” Bero said cheerfully. The boy opened his mouth and closed it again. Then he walked backwards until the fence partition stopped him.
At Witches' End Page 8