“I’m sorry, Rowan,” she said.
“I’m telling you, Ella. I have faced down mobsters with AK-47s that didn’t scare me as much as seeing you buck naked in that asshole’s room.”
“I know. I shouldn’t have gone off and let you think I was on for the midnight bonfire.”
“Damn right you shouldn’t have.” He propped himself up on one elbow and looked at her. “And I need you to promise me right now, Ella, that you won’t ever do something that stupid again. Promise me that you’ll never go your own way because you think convincing me is just too much trouble.”
“I promise.”
“I mean it, Ella.”
“I mean it, too, Rowan.”
“Shit,” he said, looking up at the ceiling. “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.”
“You say the sweetest things.”
He gave her a sly look. “Come ‘ere and I’ll show you a few sweet things, too.” He grabbed for her and she squealed when they both tumbled from the bed to the floor.
“Shhhhh!” she said, trying not to giggle. “We’re in a convent, for heaven’s sake! Show some decorum.”
“You sure showed plenty of that today and more.”
“You need to hear what I found out today.”
“Yeah, I’m in a big ass hurry, myself,” he said, reaching for her.
She grinned, then leaned over and kissed him. They looked into each other eyes for a moment. “I love you, Rowan,” she said.
“We haven’t done this part yet?”
“No, we have not.”
He kissed her. “I love you, too, beautiful. I thought that went without saying.”
“I don’t want it to go without saying.”
“I love you, Ella.”
They kissed. And Ella sank onto the bedclothes they’d dragged down to the floor.
“It’s almost over,” she said. “Just a few loose ends and the hard part’s done. We are coming down the straightaway.”
“Yeah,” he drawled, propping himself up on an elbow again and leaning over her to pull her hair away from her face. “I just hope the finish line ain’t booby trapped.” He leaned down and began a kiss that would not be stopped any time soon by conversation.
Axel held the carving knife to the woman’s throat and pressed. He waited until the blood appeared at the tip of his knife before lifting the blade from her skin. He looked at her husband, surprising himself that he had not heard the man’s anguished cries before now, so focused had he been on his task.
“Well?” he asked. “Does your allegiance to the Mother Superior transcend your care for your wife’s life?”
The woman quivered and wept. She squeezed her eyes shut against the strong likelihood that she was about to meet her creator. Axel’s hand never wavered.
“She asked me to help the boy get a position at the castle,” the man said, his eyes full of terror. “If…if he could do the job, and I saw that he likely could. That is all, mein Herr, I swear it!”
“Where did this boy come from? There are no boys living at the convent.”
“She told me he was a relative. A nephew from the country. An addlepate. I beg you, mein Herr.”
Axel hesitated. He hated not to finish what he started. But the wench was fetching. He withdrew his knife and before he looked up to see the relief die on the husband’s face, he shoved her into the arms of his aide, a brutish man with no nose.
“Bring her,” Axel said. “She will be pierced tonight in more ways than one.”
Laughing at his own wit, he swung up onto his horse and turned its head away from the keening, pleading man he left in the courtyard of the pub.
The balance had been restored to Axel’s life an hour ago when his father’s messenger had arrived at Axel’s favorite Heidelberg whorehouse to say that his brother lived and his father needed him to return to the castle. He tried to remember why he had felt the need to flee in the first place. Clearly even the attempted murder of a brother was an inconsequential crime for a man of Axel’s station.
So, the hag had planted her spy in his house, had she? Axel thought of the crescent moon he had carved on the head nun’s arm and how she never even flinched. He smiled at the memory. It pleased him to see a woman fight back. They so rarely did.
“Okay, Ella, so what did you find out?”
“I uncovered a plot that will put both Axel and his Pop behind bars or worse.”
“Before you tell me the details, what kind of evidence do we have to back it up?”
Ella was silent.
“You weren’t thinking of testifying about what you heard, I trust?”
“You’re funny.”
“So you heard them plotting to murder someone important?”
“Very important.”
“But you have no proof. How do we use the information?”
“Well, maybe when the guy shows up dead…”
“I meant without allowing them to go through with their dastardly plan, Ella.”
“Look, Rowan. I don’t know how we prove it or announce it to the world since that would involve us being burned at the stake hand in hand.”
“As romantic as that sounds…” He grinned and leaned over and kissed her on the nose. “Okay, fill me in on what you found out and maybe the solution will present itself.”
Dojo, the butler and head steward, intercepted Axel as he galloped into the stone courtyard of the castle. His lordship had instructed Dojo to send Axel to him as soon as he arrived. Dojo knew his orders did not allow for Axel to eat or unbuckle his sword. He grabbed the bridle of Axel’s horse and held it steady while Axel dismounted.
“Your father demands to see you immediately,” Dojo said. “He says you are to gather all the castle forces to attack the convent tonight. It is known that the man who killed your men resides there.”
Axel pulled off his gloves and tucked them into his saddle before turning to Dojo. “Does my father wish me to kill them all?” Axel asked casually.
“Yes, lord,” Dojo said. “Everyone. He would, however, suggest the gardener be taken alive if possible so that he may burn later. For the citizens.”
“Thank you, Dojo. Oh, by the by, I am told a wench was found in my bed chambers today?”
Dojo hesitated, his eyes flickered briefly to the man, still mounted, who accompanied Axel. The man—one of the guards from the castle—grinned a toothless evil grin.
“Yes, lord,” Dojo said, fear creeping into his bones.
“And a simpleton? The size of a giant and wearing a priest’s frock?”
From the convent. Dojo bowed his head in silence.
“Lift your head, Dojo,” Axel snarled. “That I may look into the face of my father’s faithful servant. The traitor who allowed the bitch nun’s assassin into my bed chamber and then to escape.”
Bravely, Dojo lifted his face to the monster’s rage.
“Krüger and Axel are planning on murdering Prince Karl III Philip’s head Catholic dude at the monthly market fair week after next.”
“Who?”
“It’s a guy named Eric Reicher,” Ella said. “Earlier this year, the Prince gave the Church of the Holy Spirit exclusively to the Catholics for their use which really pissed off the Protestants in town.”
Rowan frowned.
“Rowan, don’t you see? This is so much better than just some whacko anti-papist trying to kill Catholics. By planning to kill the Prince’s man, Krüger has committed treason.”
“It’s good,” Rowan said.
“Are you kidding? It’s great. But you’re right. How do we prove it? I mean, without letting this Reicher guy bite the big one next week?”
“Was Krüger telling his plot to only Axel?”
“That’s right. They outlined their plot to kill the highest ranking Catholic in the country and then Krüger swore Axel to secrecy. He instructed Axel to kill the guy himself.”
Rowan was staring out the high window in their room. “First thing we do,�
� he said, “is have Axel spill the beans big-time to the world.”
“Axel’s gone, remember?”
“Trust me, he’ll be back.”
“Well, okay, then how do we have him spill the beans?”
“We don’t have him do it,” Rowan said, smiling. “We have him appear to do it.”
“Explain please.”
“Krüger swore him to secrecy, right? So Step One in our discrediting Axel and getting him dumped from the Daddy-Loves-Me-Best platform is to make it look like he can’t be trusted. Plus, the more people who know, the less likely Krüger will go through with the assassination.”
“So what are you thinking?”
“We have Axel tell the world his big secret.”
“He would never do that.”
“Perception, Ella. Remember? It’s all perception.”
Comfortable in their belief that they now had all the time in the world, Ella and Rowan curled up in their small bed and, for the first time in 1620, slept in blessed relief from fear.
Less than an hour after they blew out their bedside candle, the attack came.
Chapter Eighteen
Greta had finished her prayers and crawled into bed when she heard the hooves of many horses pounding through the garden on the rough uneven stones of the convent’s courtyard. She froze in disbelief. Assuming there was no one else besides Axel to fear, she had spent her first evening in years without bracing for the invasion she had always expected. As she hesitated just long enough to pull on slippers, she heard the rough voices of many men outside the convent walls. She grabbed her cloak and ran to the door of her chamber. Immediately a flaming torch crashed through the bedroom window behind her. Not bothering to beat out the flames, she bolted from her room and ran for the novices’ dormitory.
“Awaken! Awaken!” she screamed as she ran down the hall, pounding on the bedroom doors of the older nuns along the way. Many were already awake. They emerged from their rooms and followed Greta to the novices’ chamber.
Once there, Greta pulled open the door to the first bedroom. Four girls slept on straw pallets under coarse woolen blankets on the floor.
“Get up!” she screamed. “We must leave now! Get up!”
As Greta turned to the hall that led to the kitchen, she ran into Rowan who had his trousers on but was bare chested. He held his Glock, pointed at the ceiling, with both hands.
“Anybody see how many?” he asked.
“I think twenty, maybe more,” Greta said, pulling her cloak around her.
“Shit,” he said. “All of you need to stay together and get ready to move when I tell you to.”
The hall lit up with a fierce orange light as a fireball exploded in the dining room of the convent.
“Have they breached us yet?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Any minute now.”
“And Ella?” Greta said, looking behind him.
“Don’t worry about Ella, Mother,” Rowan said. “Wait for my signal,” he said, and disappeared down the hall.
Greta entered the room full of frightened women. “Listen to me,” she said. “You must be ready to run when the word is given.” The nuns huddled together for support and murmured “Yes, Mother.” As Greta returned to the hallway, she heard the battering ram as it splintered the front door.
Dear Lord, is this how it all must end?
A lithe figure darted down the hall toward her. The smoke from the fires that were burning throughout the convent made it difficult to see Ella until they stood face to face.
“You guys okay?” Ella said. She was wearing a pair of loose pants and a shirt several sizes too large for her. The mail pouch she had brought from the future was slung over her shoulder.
“Yes,” Greta said. “What is happening?”
“Is there a back way out of the convent?” Ella asked. Her face was streaked with soot from the smoke she had run through. The shouts of men were closer now. They were coming from inside the convent.
“There is an entrance to a tunnel in the garden,” Greta said. “But we will be seen.”
The sounds of gunfire filled the air and Greta saw the controlled fear etched on Ella’s face. “That’s our cue,” Ella rasped. “Let’s go. Lead us, Greta.” She pulled out her Taser and shoved Greta toward the door ahead of the other nuns. “We need to go now!”
Greta shouted to the women, “Follow me! Everyone run!” She ran down the hall away from the gunfire and screams. When she swung open the outside door, the sight made her stop. There were at least fifty soldiers in the courtyard and surrounding the garden. There were many bodies on the ground, some twitching, and some still. Looking back she could see that fire was slowly consuming the convent.
Ella pushed her forcefully from behind. “Greta, go!” she urged. Greta ran to the garden and opened the gate, then ran down the path toward a metal grate hidden by the grass. The grate covered a portal leading to the city’s sewers and to the surrounding countryside. Ignoring the screams of her nuns behind her and the soldiers’ shouts, she fell to her knees and pried the grate free and moved it aside.
“Get in!” she said to the elderly nun who was gasping for breath behind her. The woman plunged into the hole without hesitation. One by one, the group followed her. Greta looked around the garden and thanked God for the black robes which hid them so well in the night. As the last nun went down the hole, Greta strained to see Ella at the rear. But Ella was not there.
Ella ran back down the hall of the convent. The smoke was worse now and the heat was nearly unbearable as the fire spread, eating up the ancient wood furniture and the heavy cotton window curtains. She ran to the last place she’d seen him and prayed he was there still. The fire raged on both sides of the hall.
When she emerged from the wall of smoke, she saw that four men had their hands on Rowan. Because she hadn’t heard any more gunshots, she knew that he must be out of bullets. Axel held Rowan’s gun and brought it down hard, smashing it into his face. Rowan dropped to his knees. Ella could see the blood streaming down his chin.
“Rowan!” she screamed.
One of the men drew his sword. He took two steps toward her and she raised the Taser in front of her.
“Ella, no!” Rowan shouted. “They’re only taking me. Go!”
She hesitated and then, tucking her head, fled into the wall of smoke where she hoped they wouldn’t follow.
She could hear Axel screaming: “After her! After her!” She kept her Taser out as she sprinted down the hall. The dense smoke made it impossible to see even inches ahead of her. She ran blindly until she burst into the garden. Immediately, she spotted Greta, crouching by the entrance to the tunnel.
Her eyes burned and she cursed Greta for not leaving with the others and thanked God she hadn’t. She brushed by her and jumped down the hole. As she scrambled down the tunnel, she could hear Greta putting back the grate behind her.
They moved silently down the tunnel for a half an hour, the scent of damp earth and death surrounding them, until Ella smelled fresh air. The other nuns had already emerged from the tunnel and were standing about in the faint predawn light. Ella pulled herself out of the tunnel and looked around. They were in an open field in the countryside. Once out of the tunnel, Ella threw down her mailbag and Taser. Behind them, in the distance, she could see the bright orange blaze of the Kloster St. Josef as it burned to the ground.
She sank to her knees and stared at the fire on the horizon. Then she put her head in her hands and wept.
Later that morning, Greta and Ella sat alone in the interior of a large cave carved into the side of the hill. Everyone had escaped the attack without harm.
Everyone but Rowan.
One of the novices who had been saved by Rowan from the goat abduction approached Greta.
“A word, Mother,” she said meekly.
Greta nodded, her face a mask of exhaustion.
“I request permission to go to the monastery.”
Greta shook her head. “You
are too young,” she said. “It would not be proper.”
The girl looked at Ella. “Will he die?” she asked. “Will Herr Marshal die in the castle?”
Ella wanted so badly to say Hell, no! but she just looked at the young girl and felt the tears welling up in her eyes. “I pray not,” she said.
“I am not afraid,” the girl said. “I will go to the monastery. I will find where they are keeping him. I will bring the monk you need to deliver your messages.”
“I am grateful for your help,” Ella said, “But we have nothing to deliver. Everything was destroyed in the fire.”
“Not everything,” Greta said.
Ella looked at her. “The birth certificate?”
“Yes,” Greta admitted. “That was lost, but the letter to Herr Schwartz, the Protestant Magistrate accusing Axel of witchcraft…”
“You have it here?” Ella looked around the camp.
“I sent it. Yesterday. Although clearly it had no effect. That was my task, was it not?”
“Yes, yes. I’d forgotten. That’s good, Greta.”
Ella saw the young girl’s hands were bandaged. This was the one who was grabbed, she thought. “What is your name?” Ella said.
“Alice.”
“Okay, Alice. Go to the monastery and bring back the monk…”
“Brother Albert,” Greta said to Alice. “No one else.”
Alice nodded.
“And, Alice,” Ella said. “Thank you.”
“He saved us all,” Alice said, and left the cave.
“She’s right,” Ella said, staring at the barely visible skyline of the town. “We can’t give up. We have to go on without him.” Just saying the words made her want to throw up. She reminded herself that he was alive and that was all that mattered. He wouldn’t stay that way long, she knew. Things would have to come together quickly if she was to write the end to this story in a way that didn’t have her in therapy for a very long time. That is, if she even lived to go into therapy.
Greta put her hand on Ella’s knee. “You have done your best, my friend,” she said. “And we are alive.”
Heidelberg Effect Page 21