Erich drew his war knife and charged forward. Ariel let go of her horse’s reins and followed, as did Astrid.
Just around the next bend, Ariel saw two things she briefly thought were children blocking their way. But they were emaciated beyond the poorest and most miserable orphan she had ever seen, and their skin was as wrinkled and gray as that of a corpse. And each bore a long thin knife in its hand.
They sprang forward, but they were no match for Erich, who nearly cut them both in two with one sweep of the heavy war knife. Their bodies fell to the forest floor, twitching and gurgling. Their blood was black, and it steamed in the cold air.
Ariel was momentarily frozen by the sight of it, until Astrid ran into her. Then she realized Erich had jumped over the not-quite-dead things on the ground and continued down the trail, where she could hear sounds of more combat.
She followed, holding Astrid’s hand and trying to think of what spell might work, though she had no idea what they would find.
When she rounded another huge tree, she skittered to a stop. Erich was facing something that resembled a tall wooden man, dressed in moss and leaves. It swung its limbs at him, branches scratching across his armor. Erich largely deflected the blow with his sword, then ducked under the counter strike when it came. There was someone on the other side of the wooden man, but Ariel could not get a clear look at him through its leaves and branches.
“Fire?” she said to Astrid. Her sister nearly crushed her hand.
“Wait. Not with Erich so close.”
Then Erich drew back, trying to regain the initiative against this thing that, being so much larger, was also much slower and less agile. Ariel tried to begin the spell, to call forth the fire they had commanded so many times before, but something stuttered. She lost her grip on the Flow, and Astrid gasped beside her as the spell failed.
“What . . . Ariel what are you doing? Cast the spell!”
But Ariel could not. Her bond with Astrid was clouded, uncertain. She could not see what Astrid was doing, what she needed to do.
The battle before them continued in ignorance of Ariel’s confusion. As the wood-thing lunged forward, Erich took his war knife in both hands and chopped down across it. The blow cut deeply into the wooden flesh of its neck and shoulder, causing it to stagger backward. Erich pressed his advantage, bringing his sword around again, and this time taking the thing’s head off. It fell backward with a crash, seeming to trap the other person, whoever it was, underneath it.
Again, Erich leapt forward, seeing something Ariel could not. She followed, and when at last she saw what was going on, she froze in shock.
There were indeed more people here, some live, some dead. And one of the live ones she recognized.
“Hans?” she cried. “What in God’s name?”
But before Hans could say anything, Erich charged past him, swinging his sword at two more of the withered little creatures behind him. Erich sliced one of them neatly in two, and then sent the last one’s head flying into the woods with his return strike.
Ariel’s shock at the battle with the strange creatures was compounded by the sight before her. She might have been less surprised to find the Emperor himself out in these woods than Hans Bergdahl.
But it was him, holding a bloody rapier as if he had just killed something, which clearly he had. The gash on his arm made clear he had not been a mere spectator.
Erich turned from the corpses of the withered gray things with an equally surprised look on his face.
“Yes,” Hans replied. “Hello, Ariel. Astrid.” He nodded at them.
Then the other man rose from underneath the wood-thing, and Ariel’s shock intensified. She let out a cry of alarm and leapt back against her sister.
Erich looked over, and as recognition dawned in a black rage, he raised his war knife in the man’s direction.
But Giancarlo left his rapier on the ground and instead raised his hands.
“You are no doubt somewhat surprised to see me. Please let me offer some explanation before you run me through.” He looked at Ariel and Astrid. “Or immolate me, as your preference may be. I mean you no harm.”
Erich kept his blade where it was.
“First, you have my thanks for your assistance here. Though I regret it came too late for some of us.” He looked at Hans. “Are they both dead?”
Hans nodded. “Yes. I’m sorry.”
“Pity. Tomas has been with me for years.” Giancarlo sighed and looked back to Erich. “I did you a great wrong some weeks ago. That wrong was not excused by my contract with your brother. How it came out such that the three of you are unharmed, I do not know, but I can only see the hand of God in the outcome. I have acknowledged my actions in the confessional, and God has made my penance clear.”
He took a step toward Erich and dropped to his knees.
“I submit myself to whatever retribution you see fit to deliver. I have learned that my wife has been dead this past year, and if it is my fate to join her, I am ready.”
Erich lowered his sword slowly, but his face remained hard.
“My brother hired you to perform a service. You did so, and were paid.”
“Yes.”
Erich stared at him for a few moments.
“I am not clear why you feel this is necessary. I have been a freesword long enough to have left any sentiments over it behind.”
“I placed your wives in great peril, and I injured one of them. I should not have turned them over to your brother.”
“Yes. That is true.”
“Erich, had he not done so, we could not have healed Wilhelm and thereby ended his vendetta against you,” Astrid said. “You would still be in his dungeon being tortured. Perhaps it was meant to be.”
Giancarlo twisted around. “You healed Wilhelm?”
“Yes,” Ariel replied. “We healed the wounds Erich gave him all those years ago. That was why he released us. And he promised to let us be now.”
The color drained from Giancarlo’s face. He looked back at Erich, who stared at him for long moments before sheathing his war knife.
“I have no quarrel with you.” He looked up at Hans. “But how did you come to be here?”
“He came to Weilburg with his men,” Hans replied. “After he explained himself, I told him you were well. He wanted to find you, and I offered to help.”
Erich cocked an eyebrow at him. “You found him that trustworthy?”
Hans glanced at Ariel and Astrid, then back at Erich. “Yes. If thought he meant to do you harm, I would not have helped him.”
Erich nodded. Then he stepped around Giancarlo and looked down at the wooden creature that had been attacking him. Shadow was inspecting it, sniffing here and there at the pieces that remained.
“What is this thing?” he asked Ariel and Astrid. “Do you know?”
Astrid knelt down. “Yes. But this makes no sense. This is an erlking. They are faerie creatures. They mostly tend the forest, though you do hear stories of them luring children away from their parents. But I have never heard of one attacking people like this.”
Ariel’s head swam for a moment. “It was enchanted.”
The others looked at her. Astrid’s jaw dropped. “How do you know?”
“I . . . I don’t know.” The vision from the clearing flashed through her mind, too fast for her to retain any details other than the purple light emerging from the spring. Then she saw a lingering purple luminescence in the erlking’s dead eyes.
“There! Do you see that? In its eyes.”
Astrid looked down. “No. See what?”
“The purple.” But then it was gone.
“I see nothing. It’s dead.”
Ariel shook her head. For some reason, she looked at her wedding ring. The color shifted briefly to blue, then back to the weird purple it turned to after she’d dipped her hand in the spring.
“And these others?” Erich asked.
Ariel looked down at the little dead things around them. There was
another flash in her head, a strange sort of grief, but she could not get a grasp on it.
“I don’t know.”
“They look human, almost,” Astrid said. “Like human children that did not grow properly. Like they were starved and neglected.”
“They’re not human,” Ariel said.
“Are they elves?” Hans asked.
“No. If we had encountered elves, you would know it. They would not have died so easily.”
“These things attacked us without warning,” Giancarlo said. “They dropped from the trees above.”
“Where were you coming from?” Erich asked. “What is ahead on this path?”
“The main road. A man we spoke to suggested you might have taken this route after we seemed to have lost your trail. Where are you headed?”
“Marburg, for tonight at least. If you two wish to ride with us that far, I have no objections.”
9.
JULIA RETURNED to Constantine’s tower a few days later. She had spent the intervening hours weighing the consequences of continuing their nascent friendship. As much as she was wary of allowing another man into her life, the pleasure in knowing that there was at least one person who enjoyed her company eventually won out. She might have preferred a friend amongst the other women closer to her age in the kitchen, but as they persisted in their united front against her, she had little choice.
When she knocked on the door to the tower, she heard a succession of strange noises, then Constantine’s voice.
“Blast it all! Who is it?”
He sounded so annoyed that she almost turned and left. But instead she made herself answer.
“It’s Julia. Am I bothering you?”
The door flew open a moment later. He was dressed in the same robe, which was covered in brass shavings. His hands were black with tarnish.
“Oh, my dear. My apologies. I thought you were one of the Landgrave’s men come to nag me about his fool. Please, come in, come in.”
He stepped back, waving her in. She managed a smile and followed him to his workshop.
“Please, forgive me. You have no idea how they are vexing me about this. I try to explain that these things cannot be rushed, that there are such delicate procedures involved in building such an automaton, not to mention that I must invent something entirely new to make it sing, but they will not listen.”
As he spoke, he went about moving things around the workbenches and tables in some semblance of straightening up his workshop, but the effect to Julia was little more than moving the various areas of chaos from one place to another. He finally uncovered a chair and motioned her to sit.
“Will you have some wine? I am afraid I have nothing else. I get no social calls here, I am afraid.”
Julia nodded. She had only rarely had wine in her life and was not sure it was the best idea now, but did not want to offend him by refusing. He filled a small cup from a jug and handed it to her.
Finally Constantine stopped and caught his breath. He looked down at Maria in her sling.
“The baby. Did she like the bird?”
Julia smiled. “She loves it. It makes her laugh. Thank you for it.”
He smiled. “I never asked her name.”
“Maria.”
He nodded and went back to digging through one of the tables. “I made something else for her, in case you ever returned. Here it is.” He came up with another small toy, which Julia realized was a little tin rabbit.
Constantine set it on the table next to Julia, and she sat Maria up in her lap so she could see. He twisted its tail, and it hopped across the table. Then it stopped and wiggled its ears. Maria shook, waving her arms. When the rabbit began hopping again, she squealed loudly. When she squealed, the rabbit turned around and hopped back, then wiggled its ears. Maria laughed.
Julia smiled at him.
“Thank you. She loves it.”
“I am glad.” He nodded. “How have you been?”
“Good. Do you think you will be able to finish the fool?”
He rubbed his hands over his bald head. “The body is not challenging. I can make it dance and tumble without much difficultly. But singing, that is not something I have managed before. It is in truth not part of artificing, making such finely tuned sounds. But there are other ways. I have had to reach out to another mage for help.”
“One of the others at court?”
He shook his head. “No, no, she . . . she does not come to court. She does not bother with petty trivialities. And mages such as her are not—”
Constantine stopped midsentence and he glanced at Julia in concern, which he seemed to quickly suppress.
“But you do not need to worry about such things, my dear. I will manage as I always do. This will be a fine thing when it is done.”
He forced a smile onto his face and sat down. “Now, you must tell me. How did you come to be here at the castle? Was it recently? I am sure I would have noticed you before.”
JULIA AND CONSTANTINE talked for a while, and if she found his eagerness for her attention and approval amusing, she still enjoyed the conversation. Maria sat in her lap gnawing on her fingers or watching the little rabbit hop around.
Just as Julia felt it was time to go, Constantine looked up, past her out one of the windows.
“Someone is coming.” He stood and looked out. “Oh dear, it is the Landgrave himself, no doubt come to ask about the fool.”
Julia gasped. The last thing she wanted was to encounter Philip again, yet there was no way she could escape the tower. Constantine sensed her distress, though of course he misunderstood the reason.
“Yes, you had best hide for the moment. No point in trying to explain your presence here.”
He waved her toward the dormer room, and she rushed inside. Constantine shut the door behind her.
A few moments later, she heard the door to the tower open.
“Your grace,” Constantine said, “what a pleasure.”
“Where is my fool?” Philip asked. “You have had a month to finish it. Surely it cannot be so difficult a task compared to the other things you have built for me.”
“Your grace, as I have explained to the men you have sent inquiring after it, it is not the thing itself, but the singing. That is not something automata can normally do. I have had to research the means to make it work. This takes time.”
Julia heard him rummaging around. “Here—this is the part that will let it speak. I have nearly gotten it to intelligibility. But singing is another matter.”
“How long?” Philip snapped.
“Perhaps a week or two longer, I hope. I have sought out another mage for assistance. I am hoping she can help me overcome a few final challenges.”
“I am hosting a ball in ten days. It must be finished by then. No more excuses. I want it to perform for my guests.”
“Your grace, I will do my utmost but—”
Then Philip cut him off. “What is this? What is this thing?”
“Your grace, that—that is nothing. A toy, a mere diversion. It—”
“You are wasting time with toys instead of finishing my fool? Idiot!” There was the sound of something hitting the floor, then a soft crunch. “Mark my words, mage: That fool will be ready in time for the ball, or it will be you who are entertaining my guests in motley.”
Julia heard footsteps, then the door slamming. She dared to peek out the dormer window and saw Philip and two of his retainers stalking back toward the castle.
When she emerged from the room, Constantine was standing in the center of the room, eyes downcast. In his hands were the remains of the little rabbit, crushed and ruined by Philip’s boot.
THE GROUP reached Marburg just before nightfall, finally stopping in the main square before the town hall. The sun was setting in the hills behind the Landgrave’s castle.
“What are your plans now?” Giancarlo asked.
“We must keep moving,” Erich said. “Winter is coming fast, and we have a long road ahead o
f us.”
“You mean to make it to Wittenberg?”
“If we can.”
“What of you?” Astrid asked.
Giancarlo shrugged.
“My proud band has shrunk to myself and this young gentleman. And I must arrange a Christian burial for Tomas and Heinrich.” He indicated the two bodies laid across their former mounts. “But that taken care of, perhaps the Landgrave has work that needs to be done. A man I fought alongside before I was hired by your brother serves him now, unless he has already sought employment elsewhere. I intend to inquire at the castle tomorrow.”
Ariel looked to Hans.
“You are going to stay with him?”
“Yes.” He said nothing more.
Giancarlo nodded at them.
“Good luck to you all,” he said.
“You as well,” Erich replied. “I don’t expect we will see you again. I mean to be out of here with the morning light.”
Part II
Marburg
10.
SHE WAS A TALL WOMAN because she had grown up the daughter of a minor noble, one who could afford to feed his family well, but she remained a tall woman because of some inner strength that kept her upright despite the cares and burdens that had fallen on her shoulders since then.
Erika von Treysa’s grandfather was the last Count of Cigenhagen, who upon his death in 1450 with no male heir lost his family’s lands to the Landgrave of Hessen. Erika’s mother married one of the Landgrave’s retainers to solidify the union and moved to Marburg shortly before Erika’s birth. But Erika’s mother suffered from the same curse as her grandmother, bearing her husband none but girls, and their title had again passed away to someone else.
Erika broke the pattern, bearing mostly boys until her most recent child, an unexpected pregnancy in her early forties. She had borne another daughter nearly two decades earlier—her first child in 1502—but did not like to think of her, and none who knew Erika’s temper dared speak of the girl in her presence. Most believed the child to have died in infancy.
In fact, Erika would have been happier had that been the case. The truth was far more painful. For all she knew, the girl might still be alive. And if she were alive, she was surely oblivious of Erika’s very existence.
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