by Iny Lorentz
Marie gave him such a withering look that he froze. “Would you prefer her to lose her innocence by force under the most repulsive conditions?”
Placing his hand on Marie’s knee, Michel smiled gently. “Wilmar loves Hedwig and wants to protect her. I don’t like that you’re still receiving customers, either.”
“Marie has to keep working, or people will start talking,” Hiltrud replied quickly, for she could see that Marie was itching to lash out at her loyal admirer. “People would wonder why she stopped taking people into her room.”
Taking a deep breath, Marie held her tongue. “Hiltrud’s right. We have to continue as before.” Before Michel could object, she turned to Wilmar and asked him to tell her everything that had happened before and after the murder. When he described how they found the dead nobleman, Marie winced. Philipp von Steinzell deserved his inglorious end, but she only wished the grim reaper had chosen to take him somewhere else.
When Wilmar concluded, Marie shook her head. “Why are you so sure the abbot of the Waldkron monastery is responsible?”
“Because this is the way he could get Hedwig for himself.”
“Why would he murder a man in order to abduct someone else?” Marie objected. “He could just as easily have lain in wait for her on her way to morning Mass. Do you have any reason to believe that the abbot and the nobleman were sworn enemies?”
Wilmar admitted he didn’t.
Marie put her head in her hands. Michel played absentmindedly with her braids while looking at her expectantly, but she was not yet ready to mention her suspicions. While staying at Arnstein Castle, she had learned that Konrad von Keilburg had plans to seize castles and lands in the murdered nobleman’s homeland. With his death, the Keilburgs came one step closer to getting their hands on Steinzell’s property. Also, Mombert’s arrest not only helped Abbot Hugo get his hands on Hedwig, but it would also make Rupert happy by ridding him of her uncle—whether as revenge for past events, or seeing him as a possible threat for the future.
Additionally, Marie knew that both Konrad von Keilburg and the abbot had been guests of her former fiancé, and that Rupert had no reservations about ordering someone’s death. Perhaps, she thought, Utz had now committed one murder too many at the request of his master, Rupert. She smiled reassuringly at Wilmar, who had fallen silent again. “You’re convinced that Melcher let the murderer into the house?”
“He’s the only one who could have given him the master’s knife. How would a stranger know where he kept it?”
“Then we’ve got to get to Melcher before somebody kills him. He’s an undesirable witness.” She placed her hand on Michel’s shoulder with pleading eyes.
The captain looked doubtful. “I have my orders and can’t leave Constance.”
“I could look for him,” Wilmar exclaimed. “If I take the first ship leaving for Lindau tomorrow, Melcher will only be one day ahead of me, and I should be able to catch up with him.” Pausing, he bowed his head in embarrassment. “But I don’t have any money for that.”
“That’s the least of our problems.” Michel untied his purse from his belt and tossed it to Wilmar. “That should be enough. It’s unlikely the fellow will flee to Bohemia or Hungary.”
“I can also contribute a few coins,” Marie added.
Michel caressed her knee. “That’s kind of you. I’ll also send two of my most trusted men on the hunt, as it’s unlikely Melcher will return voluntarily.”
“But that won’t be enough. We need high-ranking allies to help us confront our enemies. If only the Arnsteins were in Constance!” Marie stared dejectedly at Michel.
Raising his head, he looked up. “Do you mean the knight Dietmar von Arnstein? He arrived the day before yesterday.”
Marie licked her lips. “Do you know where he’s staying?”
“Of course. Everyone’s talking about the knight. They think it’s funny he brought his wife along, since there are so many courtesans in Constance that a man could take a different one every day for three years and still not have had them all.”
Marie shook her head so indignantly that her braids swatted Michel in the face. “What nonsense! Dietmar von Arnstein knows how lucky he is to have his wife, and I’m glad Lady Mechthild has come along. That will make things easier.”
Rupert couldn’t dupe the mistress of Arnstein Castle quite so easily, Marie thought with satisfaction, and resolved to visit the lady the very next morning.
XVI.
Along with their vassals and allies, the Arnsteins were staying at the inn with the sign of the fish. If it had been up to Marie, she would have visited the inn right after sunrise. But Hiltrud convinced her to stay long enough to be there when Hedwig woke up; otherwise the girl might misunderstand the situation and scream loudly enough to bring all the neighbors running.
Marie was sitting cross-legged on the bed next to Hiltrud, sewing a new dress and occasionally checking on her cousin. Since Marie couldn’t take customers for Hedwig’s sake, Michel came back early that morning and loudly declared at the front door that he was taking Marie for the entire day, so others either had to leave or take Hiltrud or Kordula instead.
Michel was now perched at Marie’s feet, obediently handing her thread and shears or getting her something to drink when she became thirsty. Instead of keeping quiet about her past as she had on his earlier visits, she was answering his questions about her five years on the road. Though she maintained a jovial tone, Michel could sense the horror and torment of the humiliation she had gone through so clearly that the hair on his arms stood on end, and a few times he even felt ashamed of being a man. When Marie told him about the cruelty of the Riedburg mercenaries, he thanked God that Siegward had perished so quickly afterward. Otherwise Michel would have tried to personally send him off to hell as a gift for Satan.
A mournful sound and a slight trembling around Hedwig’s lips put an end to the conversation. Marie and Michel bent down over the girl and waited anxiously. It wasn’t long before Hedwig opened her eyes, staring in confusion at the unfamiliar surroundings.
She sat partway up, then sank back down again with a loud cry of pain. “Oh God, my head hurts so much, and I feel sick to my stomach.”
Then she recognized Michel and Marie nodding at her cheerfully, and she stared at them wide-eyed. “Marie? Am I in heaven? When did I die?”
Marie laughed and patted her cousin on the cheek. “You’re not dead, and neither am I.”
With Michel’s help, the young girl pulled herself up, smiling at him gratefully as he tucked a pillow behind her back. Then she took her head in her hands as if hoping to gather her thoughts. “What happened? How did I get here? A man came a little while ago and told me I’d be set free.”
Michel stroked her hair, trying to calm her. “He was lying. That fiend was taking you to Abbot Hugo.”
Hedwig let out a wail. “Good Lord, he was the abbot’s servant? How could I have been so stupid!”
Tenderly stroking her cousin’s forehead, Marie handed her a cup of diluted wine. “You were too upset, and even if you had figured out what was happening, it wouldn’t have done you any good. Selmo would have just forced you to drink the potion in order to break your resistance and take you to his master.”
Hedwig stared at her cousin incredulously. “But how could he just come and pick me up as if I were a bolt of cloth that his master had purchased?”
“Unfortunately, it was almost that easy.” Marie handed Hedwig the roll of parchment that Michel had taken from Selmo. “As you can see, Alban Pfefferhart, the city councilman and assessor, signed the order for you to be handed over.”
“Pfefferhart? I can’t believe that. Herr Alban is an honorable man.” Hedwig shook her head in surprise, but the signature on the document seemed genuine.
Marie let out a cynical laugh. “Not every person is who you think. It’s possible Hugo von Waldkron kno
ws things that Alban Pfefferhart wants to hide from others. But don’t worry. I won’t allow those wretches to exploit your situation the way they did mine.”
The wine put a little color back into Hedwig’s face and seemed to revive her spirits. “Why didn’t you try to get in touch with us for all those years? We thought you were dead.”
“I don’t think I should tell you what I’ve been up to for the last few years,” Marie replied sharply, twisting so that Hedwig could see the yellow ribbons on her skirt.
Hedwig understood and lowered her head in shame. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be silly—it’s not your fault. On the contrary, I think you’re a victim of the same scoundrel. But this time I’m going to cut the ground out from under him and his accomplices.”
Hedwig grimaced at her cousin’s harsh tone even as she remembered what the man had done the night before to gain her confidence. “What happened to my parents? The abbot’s assistant said my mother would be set free and my father would also be treated mercifully. Was that also a lie?”
“Yes, unfortunately. As an alleged murderer of a nobleman, your father is due to be tortured and will probably meet a dreadful end. But things haven’t gotten that far yet. We have proof that someone else killed the nobleman.” Marie’s smile was so malicious that Hedwig drew back in shock.
“Wilmar believes your apprentice Melcher had something to do with it. If we can find him, we can prove your father’s innocence.” Michel sounded more confident than he really was.
Marie snorted in contempt. “If we don’t have the backing of any authorities, no one will pay attention to what the boy says. Now, I’m going to try and find us some powerful allies.”
She left the room, then paused halfway down the ladder and turned to her cousin. “Michel will tell you what to do from now on. Please listen to him, because if the bailiffs find you, they’ll immediately hand you over to Abbot Hugo.”
Nodding obediently, Hedwig promised to respect whatever Michel told her. With a doubtful sigh, Marie left the house and swiftly ran through the city.
When she reached the inn where the Arnsteins were staying, she hesitated, wondering if she was doing the right thing. Perhaps she should have brought Otmar von Mühringen’s testament with her as proof, but the caution she had learned in her hard years as a wandering harlot held her back. Constance was swarming with robbers, so she decided to wait and have Giso, Sir Dietmar’s castellan, pick up the document later.
Pulling herself together, she walked up to the building marked by the relief of a huge, ornately designed cast-iron fish, and knocked on the door.
A maid opened the door, then started to close it again when she saw Marie’s yellow ribbons.
Marie stuck her foot in the opening. “I’m looking for the knight Dietmar von Arnstein or Lady Mechthild.”
Since the maid showed no signs of stepping aside, Marie tried something else. “I’m not leaving until you’ve announced me to your lord and lady. Tell them Marie, who spent the winter before last at their castle, would like to speak with them.”
The servant girl wavered at Marie’s serious tone. “Very well, then, I’ll ask her lady-in-waiting if I can let you in. But first take your foot out of the door.”
The maid shut the door, but only slid the bolt halfway before she hurried away. Less than a minute later the door opened again. “Marie! Indeed, it’s you!”
“Guda! How glad I am to see you.” Marie was so happy, she wanted to hug Mechthild’s lady-in-waiting, but restrained herself and gave a slight curtsy.
“Come in,” Guda said, “and let me have a look at you. You look well. It seems things have not gone badly for you since you left Arnstein.”
Marie smiled at her upbeat tone, realizing that Guda had no idea what the life of a wandering prostitute was like. Happy to have been received so warmly, Marie asked Guda about the lady.
Guda beamed with joy. “Lady Mechthild is well and so is her darling boy. He’s growing up and won’t be an only child much longer.”
Marie looked at Guda with interest. “Lady Mechthild is pregnant again?”
“Yes, but it doesn’t show yet. This time she won’t call upon you, however, as Sir Dietmar won’t even consider having a temporary lover again.”
It sounded like a warning, but Marie silently chuckled. She assumed that meant Lady Mechthild found it dangerous to let her husband get used to the company of attractive courtesans. Now that she’d had the longed-for heir, the lady’s position at Arnstein was so secure that she could afford to keep other women out of her husband’s bed.
Guda led Marie into a small but elaborately furnished room, richly covered with pinewood paneling and with floors of inlaid oak. Lady Mechthild’s traveling chest stood along one wall, and next to it was the cradle in which the Arnstein heir was sleeping, watched over by a servant girl. Enough soft light fell into the room through the bull’s-eye windows that Lady Mechthild, sitting on a chair and sewing next to the hearth, could easily thread her needle. Sir Dietmar was sitting next to her, alternating his attention between his son and his wife.
Lady Mechthild looked up when Marie entered. “Greetings, Marie. This is certainly a surprise.”
Though her words were friendly, Marie detected some hostility, and Sir Dietmar was clearly uncomfortable. Apparently he didn’t want to think back on his time with her.
Marie was annoyed at their cool reception, especially since she was there to help the knight and his wife retrieve their lost inheritance. She didn’t speak of it at once, however, but first said a few polite words of greeting, admiring the baby in order to flatter the parents.
“What brought you to Constance?” Lady Mechthild finally asked.
Clearly, the lady wondered why the young woman had risked coming to her hometown again despite all that had happened. Marie couldn’t help but feel the wide gulf separating a noble lady and a despised harlot here. It was quite different than it had been in the castle, where Marie had been one of the lady’s closest servants.
“Since the nobility are all gathered in Constance, there was no way for me to make a living anywhere else. I had to come here, and to tell the truth, I also hoped you would be here.”
Lady Mechthild raised an eyebrow. “You wanted to see us? You’ve probably heard that I’m pregnant again and wish to offer your services, but this time we don’t need them.” Her face looked so forbidding that it appeared she wanted to throw Marie onto the street then and there.
“No, it’s something else,” Marie replied hastily. “I have . . .”
She paused, realizing that she’d almost revealed that she had possession of Sir Otmar’s lost testament, and she wasn’t ready to talk about that yet.
Instead, she asked, “Have you heard that Squire Philipp was murdered?”
Sir Dietmar grumbled yes, and Lady Mechthild nodded.
“My uncle stands under suspicion,” Marie continued. “But he didn’t do it, and I’m going to prove it, but I will need allies to whom the officials and the judge will listen.”
Lady Mechthild stared at Marie with contempt. “You’ve come to the wrong place. First of all, the proof against him is so overwhelming that it can’t have been anyone else, and second, we don’t want to incur the wrath of Degenhard von Steinzell by supporting his son’s murderer.”
“Uncle Mombert did not kill Philipp. This is another one of Counselor Rupert Splendidus’s vile tricks, and I know he’s an enemy you share with the entire Steinzell clan.” Though her voice sounded as vehement as the noble lady’s, she didn’t succeed in convincing her.
“I think you’re still hoping to provoke us into a fight with Count Konrad von Keilburg and his half brother Rupert in order to take your revenge, but I’m not willing to spill a drop of my people’s blood for a whore. The situation seems favorable for us now, as Sir Degenhard will think carefully about who his friends are now
that the Habsburger has been declared an outlaw, and I’m certain he will join forces with my husband.”
“Good Lord, I’m not asking you to do anything improper. It’s a simple issue of justice.” Marie was having trouble masking her growing anger. “In addition, I haven’t come empty-handed. I know who has your uncle Otmar von Mühringen’s lost testament, and I can get it for you.”
Lady Mechthild clearly didn’t believe Marie, but Sir Dietmar seemed interested and gave her a piercing stare. “Is that possible?”
Since Marie didn’t want to give them the testament before getting a promise of support for herself and her uncle, she racked her brain trying to figure out what to do next. Then an idea occurred to her. “I don’t know if you noticed, but Jodokus was very much taken with me at Arnstein Castle.”
“I know he made lewd advances, but that fortunately you always turned him down.” It was obvious that Lady Mechthild didn’t want to talk about it.
Marie couldn’t worry about the lady’s feelings if she wanted any chance at success. “I’ve learned from other whores that Jodokus is still looking for me. He’s taken another name and is apparently quite rich, but his description is unmistakable. Recently he boasted to one of my friends that he had some documents that would soon make him even richer, and I think that it must be the stolen testament with which he plans to blackmail Counselor Rupert. If you help me, I’ll go to the monk and take it.”
Rubbing his clean-shaven chin, Dietmar looked at his wife pensively. “Maybe we should take her offer, my love. If we have the testament, Konrad von Keilburg will have to give up Mühringen, and our son’s inheritance will almost double.”
Lady Mechthild waved her hand through the air as if trying to chase away flies. “Oh, these are just the figments of a fallen woman’s imagination. Sir Otmar’s testament was destroyed long ago, and even if she managed to find Jodokus, the word of a runaway monk wouldn’t be worth any more in court than that of a harlot.”