The Wandering Harlot (The Marie Series Book 1)

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The Wandering Harlot (The Marie Series Book 1) Page 35

by Iny Lorentz


  “I believe you. Had he done it, Mombert wouldn’t have been so foolish as to call the governor while the corpse was still lying there with Mombert’s own knife stuck in his chest. Anyway, he’d never have been driven to attack Steinzell unless the nobleman had tried to violate Hedwig, and that wouldn’t have happened without a lot of noise and shouting.”

  “I didn’t hear anything, even though I sleep in a room right next to the shop where every word can be heard from the hallway. But the murder must have taken place in the hallway, as both the front door and the door to the courtyard had been locked from the inside.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.” Eyes closed, Michel appeared to be concentrating.

  Wilmar tried to remember everything that had happened that morning. “I think Philipp von Steinzell was murdered somewhere else and secretly brought into Master Mombert’s house.”

  “Then someone in the house must have opened the door for the murderer and bolted the door again after he left. That’s not very likely.”

  Wilmar snorted and suddenly looked up. “Melcher could have done it! He pointed to the body as calmly as if he’d seen it all before, and he was the one who called attention to Master Mombert’s knife. Perhaps he let the murderer into the house out of revenge, since the master had recently whipped him for loitering around town instead of working. It’s also suspicious that he’s recently had a lot of money, which he claimed friends had given him. Maybe someone paid him to spy on the master or the nobleman. Just now I was down at the harbor and saw Melcher getting on a ship sailing for Lindau, and I wondered where he got the money for that trip.”

  “No judge in the world would accept that as proof. Perhaps he earned the money in town. If an apprentice wants get back at his master, he puts a mouse in his wife’s bread dough—he doesn’t help murder him. Unless . . .” Michel fell silent, staring through the little window out into the street. “Unless the act was carried out by someone who wanted to get rid of Steinzell and used Melcher as an accomplice. But who could be interested in killing an almost-unknown nobleman?”

  Wilmar fidgeted nervously in his chair, eager to share his theory. “Abbot Hugo von Waldkron! He was chasing after Hedwig like the devil and viewed Squire Philipp as a rival. Now that he’s gotten rid of him and pinned the murder on Mombert, no one is there to stand in his way. He had Hedwig taken to the tower, and I’m worried that Hedwig might now meet with the same fate as her cousin Marie . . .”

  Upon hearing Marie’s name, Michel interrupted. “What happened to Marie in the tower?”

  Wilmar stared at him in surprise. “Didn’t Master Mombert tell you? Marie had accused three men of robbing her of her virginity in the tower the night she was arrested. The judge didn’t believe her and condemned her to additional whipping for slander.”

  Michel felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. “Marie was raped? I never knew that. Wait . . . Let me think.”

  It’s no wonder that Marie doesn’t enjoy sleeping with me, Michel realized, suddenly filled with shame. What an idiot I’ve been.

  “Who were the men?” he asked in a voice that shocked Wilmar.

  “Hunold, the city bailiff; the wagon driver, Utz; and Linhard Merk, who now calls himself Brother Josephus and lives in the monastery of the Barefoot Friars.” he replied.

  “My God, how Marie must have suffered!” Michel jumped up, pacing and gesticulating as if he wanted to catch and throttle her attackers at once.

  Wilmar tugged at his sleeve. “This is not about Marie, Captain, but Hedwig. If we do nothing, she’ll also fall victim to these vile men, and what I’ve heard about Waldkron makes me fear the worst. Earlier tonight, he hopped on a boat to Meersburg, and I’m sure that from there, he’ll go to his house in Maurach. I’m convinced Selmo will take Hedwig out of the tower and bring her to him, where the abbot will use her and torture her. We must free her!”

  Michel laughed bitterly. “How do you think we’ll do that? I don’t have the power to release Hedwig.”

  Wilmar buried his face in his hands. “Then Hedwig will suffer the fate of her cousin. If she even survives what Waldkron will do to her, that is. She’s so tender and fragile . . .”

  Seizing the boy by the shoulders, Michel pulled him up. “Stop moaning and take heart. Before a fellow like Abbot Hugo can get his hands on the girl, I swear he’ll have to get past my drawn sword.”

  For a moment, Michel considered telling Marie about the matter. Perhaps she would be more inclined to accept him if she found out that he was going to help her cousin, but then he decided she’d more likely call him a braggart and slam the door in his face. No, first he would have to free Hedwig. A deed like that would earn her gratitude and finally bring the two of them closer. Once again, he asked Wilmar to describe what he had seen in Mombert’s house and then later in the harbor.

  XIV.

  Darkness descended over the city as Michel and Wilmar set out for the city tower. The city gates had been closed for hours, and it normally wouldn’t have been possible to smuggle a girl out of Constance, but because of the council, the watchmen let people pass through at any hour.

  Michel still wondered if Wilmar had made up his accusations against the abbot out of pure jealousy, but he couldn’t reject the slight possibility that the young apprentice might be completely correct in his assumptions. In any case, it was unlikely that the abbot would have the girl abducted in broad daylight in front of dozens of witnesses, so Michel waited in the tavern with Wilmar until sundown, when the streets began to empty out. All of Michel’s doubts were dispelled, however, when he caught sight of a man in a white cowl walking briskly toward the tower. In a hushed voice, Wilman identified the man as Selmo.

  Holding a hooded lantern so that the light fell only on the pavement ahead of him, the man was carrying a coat over his arm and heading directly for the tower entrance. He pounded on the door, and waited until the eye-level shutter was pushed aside.

  “Who’s there?” someone asked in a gruff voice.

  “Open the door in the name of the Council of Constance!” Selmo held Abbot Hugo’s document up to the shutter so that the watchman could see the seal, and was happy soon afterward to hear the bolt being pushed back. The door opened a crack, and he slipped inside. “I am here to fetch the prisoner Hedwig Flühi,” he declared in a harsh tone.

  Confused, the guard passed his hand over his bare head. “So late at night?”

  Selmo replied in a haughty tone, attempting to intimidate the man. “These are my orders.”

  “Very well, then. I’ll go get her.” The watchman shuffled away, returning shortly with Hedwig. The girl’s face was swollen and tear-stained, but there was a look of hope in her eyes.

  “Am I being released?” she asked Selmo.

  Selmo gave her the same beneficent smile he had learned from his master. “That will be decided when we get to where I’m taking you.”

  Taking that as confirmation, she suddenly seemed ashamed of having thought first of herself, and she quickly asked what would happen to her parents.

  “That’s entirely up to you. If you are sensible and behave, and do what you are told, your mother will be released soon and your father treated mercifully. You can help convince the judge of your father’s innocence.”

  Hedwig folded her hands, promising to be obedient and do everything she could to help her parents. Suppressing a grin of satisfaction, Selmo tried to maintain his suave demeanor. His master would be happy, because now he’d acquire a willing lover. But since women were unpredictable and he didn’t want to take any chances, he filled a cup from the guard’s table with the bottle of poppy juice and handed it to her.

  “Drink this. It will be good for you.”

  Hedwig stared in disgust at the filthy cup. “What is it?”

  “Medicine. It will keep you from getting sick from the tower’s filth. If you drink it, I’ll see to it that your fa
ther and mother also get some.”

  Nodding vigorously, Hedwig emptied the cup even though the bitter liquid made her shudder. Selmo put the empty bottle back in his pocket and placed the other cloak around Hedwig’s shoulders.

  “Let us out,” he ordered.

  The guard grumbled, but he took the key, shuffled to the door, and opened it.

  As Selmo pushed Hedwig out into the street, he heard the gate closing again behind him and chuckled. The bailiff wouldn’t realize until the next morning that he’d handed over the prisoner without keeping a copy of the command to show his superiors.

  Draping his arm around Hedwig’s shoulders, Selmo pulled her toward him as if trying to keep her from stumbling on the holes in the pavement. Through the cloak’s heavy material, he could feel her trembling, and he had to suppress his lustful desires. Hearing a noise, he jumped, but before he could turn around, something hit him on the head, and he fell unconscious to the ground.

  Unlike Selmo, Hedwig had seen an arm and a sword appearing out of the darkness and watched as the sword’s pommel struck her escort. At the same time, someone seized her from behind, stifling her cries.

  “Please be quiet, Hedwig. Captain Michel and I have come to set you free.”

  “Free? But why? I’m going to be released.” Hedwig tried to turn around to Wilmar, but then the ground started to buckle under her feet, and she fainted.

  Catching her before she fell, Wilmar lifted her back onto her feet and searched for the captain, who had pulled Selmo into a dark alley by the tower and was searching him. Upon finding the parchment roll, he quickly glanced at the contents by the light of Selmo’s lantern and stuffed it into his jerkin with an angry snort.

  Wilmar ran over to him, pointing with his chin at Hedwig lying in his arms. “She suddenly passed out and isn’t moving. I’m afraid her heart has stopped.”

  Michel placed his hand on Hedwig’s throat and could feel her weak pulse. “Don’t worry, she’s alive. I think the fellow sedated her. Well then, we’ve done him a favor by taking the girl off his hands, as he would have had to drag her all by himself across the city.” His tone revealed his relief at their quick success. “Come, give me the girl and take the lantern. We have to carry her someplace safe before the fellow back there wakes up.”

  Wilmar didn’t want to let go of Hedwig, but he could see that the strapping young captain was better able to carry her. Not until that moment, however, did it occur to him that he hadn’t given any thought about what to do once she was free, and he gasped. “We’ve got to hide her someplace where neither the abbot nor the bailiffs will find her.”

  “I know a place where nobody will come looking for her. We’ll take Hedwig to a whore I know well. She’ll take her in and care for her.”

  “To a whore?” Wilmar asked indignantly. He wanted to explain to Michel that a brothel wasn’t a suitable place for an innocent virgin like Hedwig, but he realized this wasn’t the right time to discuss the matter. Clenching his teeth, he hurried to keep up with the captain’s long strides while lighting their way. After a short time they turned into Ziegelgraben Lane, and Michel beckoned to him to stop at one of the small houses.

  “Here it is. Go to Zolfinger monastery and throw the lantern in a ditch. Then come back.”

  Wilmar watched as Michel knocked on the door; then he went quickly so that the captain wouldn’t be left alone too long with Hedwig.

  XV.

  Marie, Hiltrud, and Kordula were sitting in the kitchen. They had just said farewell to their last customers of the day and now were relaxing and enjoying some white bread they’d dunked in warm, mulled wine—a delicacy they’d never before been able to afford. While Hiltrud and Kordula talked about the quirks of a few regular customers, Marie sat brooding in a corner by herself as usual.

  Suddenly there was a knock on the door. “Who could that be so late at night?” Kordula jumped up to see, but Marie took her by the wrist, holding her back.

  “It’s past business hours. Anyone showing up now probably has nothing good in mind.” Marie couldn’t explain to her that she lived in fear of being recognized and was afraid that a murderer sent by Rupert might be standing at the door.

  The knocking got louder.

  Hiltrud looked up. “We should at least have a look. Perhaps Madeleine or one of our other friends is in trouble.”

  Without waiting for Marie’s reply, she stood up, reached for a butcher’s knife that doubled as a weapon, and stepped out into the hallway.

  “Who’s there?” she asked loudly enough to be heard outside.

  “It’s me, Michel.”

  Without further hesitation, Hiltrud pushed back the bolt. In the light coming from the kitchen, she could see the heavy burden in Michel’s arms and quickly put the knife down.

  “Who is this you’re bringing into our house?”

  “Close the door and put up the shutters. No one must see us,” Michel said.

  Hiltrud had no idea what was going on but quickly closed the door behind Michel and pointed toward the kitchen. “Marie’s in there.”

  Upon hearing his voice, Marie stood up to give him a good piece of her mind, but instead saw the girl and swallowed hard.

  “But that’s Hedwig! What are you doing with her?” It sounded as if she suspected Michel of having kidnapped her.

  Michel was not in a congenial mood and updated her on the day’s happenings.

  “My uncle arrested?” Marie bit her finger and took a deep breath. Even as her expression became suddenly furious, a mocking grin spread over her face. “This will be Rupert’s last shameful act.”

  Michel looked at her blankly. “Counselor Rupert Splendidus, the man who wanted to marry you? What do you think he has to do with Hedwig? Wilmar is certain that Abbot Hugo von Waldkron is behind all this.”

  “Who’s Wilmar?”

  “Your uncle’s journeyman. He told me about Mombert’s arrest and how they were going to give Hedwig to the abbot as his lover. Wilmar will be coming back in a moment, but right now I’d like to put your cousin down somewhere. She’s starting to get heavy.”

  “Come, we’ll take her upstairs to my room. Hiltrud, can you help us?” Marie climbed up the ladder while her friend took the unconscious girl from Michel and handed her to Marie. Together they hauled her upstairs and laid her on Marie’s bed. Michel followed with a lantern that Hiltrud had given him but had to stop at the entrance as the space above was too small for all of them.

  Mombert’s daughter was as pale as a ghost, and the only way they could tell she was still alive was the slight but steady rise and fall of her chest.

  “I’m afraid that Hedwig was given something by the fellow we took her from in order to get her out of the city without attracting attention. She fainted on us in the street.” Michel looked at the girl anxiously.

  Hiltrud bent down over the girl and smelled her breath. “She drank poppy juice, and quite a bit of it, apparently. Believe me, she won’t wake up until tomorrow afternoon.”

  “I hope she survives.” Marie gazed at her cousin with concern. Poppy juice was generally used as a soporific, but drinking too much could kill a person.

  Hiltrud felt Hedwig’s pulse and shook her head, “I don’t think she’s in danger. The girl is obviously strong and healthy.”

  Before Marie could reply, someone else knocked on the front door. “That must be Wilmar,” Michel said.

  “I’ll open the door.” Hiltrud squeezed by him out of the room, and climbed down.

  Michel took Marie by the arm. “Can you trust the two other women? No one must know who freed Hedwig and where she is hiding.”

  Marie immediately pulled free from his grip, but she gave him a friendly look. “Hiltrud saved my life and has been a loyal friend to me, and Kordula will not betray us, either, especially to men who stalk innocent girls and thus rob us of a living.”

&
nbsp; “Then it’s all right.” Putting his head out the door, Michel saw Wilmar standing below in the hallway alongside Hiltrud, who was examining him in the light of a burning wood chip. The journeyman stared back at Hiltrud, who was quite a bit taller than he was, as if he feared she would eat him alive.

  Michel motioned for the two to join them in the attic. “Bring the third woman along as well. We have to talk about what to do next, but we mustn’t risk being overheard by a random passerby standing outside the window.”

  Wilmar raced up the ladder as if fleeing from a venomous snake. Hiltrud and Kordula followed him, smiling. They were amused by this boy who had tucked himself into the farthest corner of the attic, his legs pulled up tight and his arms wrapped around himself so as not to touch the women next to him. But due to the tight quarters, the others also had to hunker down on their hands and knees, keeping their heads down. Marie pushed Hedwig up against the wall, sat down on her bed, and from that vantage point looked down at the others. Michel seized the chance to lean against her legs.

  With everyone looking at him expectantly, Michel retold what had happened and why he’d brought Hedwig there. “What Wilmar and I did,” he concluded, “surely won’t please the officials here in Constance, so please don’t mention this to anyone and keep the girl hidden from prying eyes.”

  Kordula clicked her tongue and shook her head emphatically. “Out of the question. If Marie hides the girl here, she can’t work anymore.”

  Raising her hands in assurance, Marie nodded. “But we can do it! When Hedwig is back on her feet, she’ll just hide when my customers are here.”

  She pointed to the ceiling boards. If two were removed, it was possible to stand on top of Marie’s trunk and hoist oneself into a small partitioned area under the gables. It was as small as a coffin, and the construction seemed a bit shaky, but it would suffice for a slender girl like Hedwig.

  Wilmar protested vehemently. “No! No, that’s out of the question. From up there Hedwig will hear everything that happens here and will lose the innocence of her soul. After all, she is a pious virgin.”

 

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