“Yes, it must be a trial.” Steffan spoke the words, but his voice was flat, cautious.
“It is.” Hennek’s eyes brightened. “It is a very great trial. I treat her with love, while she does things like steal a valuable map and try to turn my wife against me.”
Katerina could call him a liar, could defend herself and her mother. But it hardly mattered what Hennek or his men thought.
“Well, if we are done here, I think I’ll just go and fetch my horse and . . .”
Would Steffan take his horse and leave? Would he go to Hagenheim without her? Of course that was the wise thing, the best thing to do to save the children. She should not feel hurt. She’d do the same if it were the only way. But . . . would he be glad to be rid of her? She had never said flattering words to him. She had flinched away from him, treated him with disdain, and proven she didn’t trust him.
Hennek stared hard at him. “It is my wish that you stay.” Hennek’s voice held that cool, dangerous tone.
Hennek could not let the duke’s son go back to tell his father. She had warned Steffan, and now the warning would come true.
Her heart sank to her toes.
“I am at your command, then, Herr Bürgermeister.” Steffan gave a slight bow. Deference and calm smoothed out his expression. Not a trace of fear or mistrust. What a good pretender he was.
“All the better,” Hennek mumbled. Then he boomed, “Let us have a good meal to celebrate you staying another night in Hamlin.”
Hennek started moving toward the dining hall, and the guards glared at Kat and Steffan until they followed, then they came very close behind. She glanced at Steffan out of the corner of her eye. His expression was tense; his jaw twitched and hardened. But when he glanced at her, his face softened and he winked, as if to say, “Don’t worry.”
They went into the dining hall and soon the evening meal was served. Mother did not seem to notice that anything was amiss—or any more amiss than usual. When Kat asked to be excused to go to her bedchamber, Hennek said, “No. I want you to stay.” Then he suddenly became loud and jovial. “We’re having a pleasant evening! Friends and family, enjoying a good meal together! You are a fortunate young maiden. Other women in Hamlin, in the Holy Roman Empire, would love to have the food you see here. But what’s even better, you are spending time with Lord Steffan, the son of the Duke of Hagenheim!”
With that, he laughed raucously, having drunk more wine than she’d ever seen him drink. What was Hennek doing, feeding them and dragging out the evening? She supposed he wanted to enjoy the thought of having the duke’s son in his home, at his mercy, one last time. And whatever he was planning to do next, he probably needed all the wine he was drinking to give him the courage to carry it out.
When the meal was finally over, he dismissed Mother, who glanced worriedly at Kat and left the room.
Steffan kept looking at her too. Did he have a plan? But the two guards who stood by the doorway to the hall had been joined by two more, who stood by the door to the kitchen. How could she and Steffan get away from the four huge men guarding the exits? They had no weapons, as Hennek had taken Steffan’s sword and her crossbow. They’d just have to wait for a better chance to escape.
When Hennek finally allowed them to retire to their beds, the guards and Hennek followed them up to their rooms, which were side by side. Then, in the narrow corridor, Hennek motioned with his hand, and one of the guards grabbed Steffan by the shoulder and slammed him against the wall. Steffan tried to fight back, but the guard grabbed him by the throat with one hand and pulled out a knife with the other.
“Stop!” Katerina yelled and took a step toward the guard, but one of the other guards caught her shoulders and pushed her against the wall as well, capturing her arms and pressing them into her sides while Hennek held his hand over her mouth.
Fury ignited inside her. She kicked and struggled, but she couldn’t loosen their hold.
“Get off her!” Steffan’s voice was low and gravelly as the third guard came over and leaned on one of his shoulders, pinning him.
“All is well,” Hennek said, directing his nasty smile at Katerina. “I only want my map and other important papers back. One of you has them, and I am guessing it is you.” Then he removed his hand from her mouth.
She spat on the floor at his feet. She could scream, but what could her mother or any of the servants do to help them? She’d only be putting them in danger if they tried to come to her aid.
“You can torment me all you want, but I will not give you anything. I never have and I never will.” She gave him her own version of a nasty smile.
“I will have my guards search you.” Hennek gave her a menacing look.
“You said you were a godly man, Hennek,” Steffan said, his tone cold. “A godly man would not allow these men to search Katerina.”
Hennek puffed out his chest and fairly shouted, “I am a godly man. The whole town will tell you. They know of my good deeds.”
“If you are so good, then why are you harassing this young maiden?” Steffan’s eyes bore into Hennek’s.
“Very well.” Hennek abruptly took a step back, his jaw flexing as if he was clenching his teeth. “But you will each have a guard to watch over you. That map belongs to me, and if either of you has stolen it, you will not go unpunished.”
As strange as it was, Steffan had hit upon the thing that Hennek cared about, the only thing that could be used against him, to manipulate him, and that was his love of praise, his desire to believe he was a good, godly man. Hennek was truly delusional.
Steffan regarded him coolly. The biggest guard pushed him toward the bedchamber door and Steffan did not fight him. Instead, he stepped toward the door and gazed at Katerina. A flash of conflicting emotions flickered over his face, his cheek twitching. But what could either of them do? They both went into their rooms as they were told.
* * *
Steffan lay awake, the biggest and meanest-looking guard standing against his door. Hennek knew they had the map, and probably suspected they’d been in the mine and seen the missing children. He was surely planning some way to kill them.
“Aren’t you going to take off your clothes to sleep?” the guard asked.
Steffan’s mind went to the dagger in the sheath strapped to his thigh, hidden by his long tunic.
“No, I prefer to sleep with my clothes on.”
The guard barely raised a brow and remained unmoving with his back against the door.
Was Katerina being similarly guarded? Steffan would kill that guard if he put one finger on her. He wanted to kill him just for being in her room. And Hennek . . . Stealing children and putting them to work in a mine! No wonder Katerina was so defensive and mistrustful. She no doubt had had to survive much abuse and oppression from the loudmouthed mayor with the fake laugh.
What would Father say when he found out the man he put in charge of Hamlin was actually capable of this much wickedness?
He and Katerina had to escape. But how?
Steffan pretended to fall asleep. He made his breathing deep and harsh—difficult to do when he wasn’t actually asleep. After perhaps half an hour, he slipped his hand up to the sheath that held his dagger. He clasped the handle.
He knew the guard had a sword, not to mention his hands were like two giant clubs, capable of beating him senseless. But he’d fought in battles, hadn’t he? He’d faced death before. And he was facing death anyway, whether he tried to escape or not, for Hennek could not let them leave this house. He’d probably guessed that they’d hidden the map.
As silently as possible, he turned onto his side and opened his eyes just enough to see the guard in the candlelight. He was leaning into the corner of the room, half his body against the door. His eyes were closed, and it looked as if he might be asleep.
Steffan clutched his dagger tightly. He had to kill him, even though this guard was in great need of repentance, confession, and absolution. Steffan had no choice. It was a matter of kill or be killed.
He leapt to his feet and lunged at the guard.
* * *
Katerina pretended to sleep, but the guard at her door was not only still awake, he was watching her closely.
A heavy feeling of sadness revealed just how much she had hoped killing the beast would lead to her freedom. But now that she knew the children were still alive, their freedom was more important to her than her own.
Suddenly she heard a loud crash coming from Steffan’s room, just on the other side of the wall.
Her guard’s eyes flew wide open and he stood up straight. He snatched open the door. When he did, Steffan barreled in, slamming into him. In the semi-darkness, her eyes locked onto a long knife. The guard was holding on to Steffan’s wrist, holding the knife high.
Kat snatched her own knife out of the secret sheath she kept strapped to her leg. She jumped up and came at the guard. She was aiming for the guard’s neck when another guard came through the doorway and knocked her down.
Kat struggled with the guard. He pinned her hand to the floor and used his thumb to press the center of her inner wrist so hard her fingers went limp, sharp pains shooting through them, and her knife fell out of her grasp.
She slammed her clenched fist into his face.
He slapped her, and the blow made her vision go dark for a moment.
Her eyesight was clearing when suddenly the man leaning over her was knocked to the side and Steffan was standing over her. He grabbed her by her arms and hauled her to her feet. Just then, more guards ran into the room. Steffan turned and slammed his fist in a guard’s throat. The man went down, clutching his neck and gagging.
Steffan’s fist smacked another guard’s chin and the guard’s head snapped back. Then two guards leapt on Steffan, holding his arms while a third guard punched him hard in the stomach.
The guard who had slapped her had risen to his feet and now grabbed her by the arms. She kicked out at him but missed.
“What is this?”
Hennek’s booming voice came from the doorway. Kat threw all her body weight away from the guard, trying to free herself, but he only tightened his grip on her arms until she cried out.
The guard slammed his fist into Steffan’s stomach again, then punched the side of his face.
Kat clenched her hands, still struggling to free herself, so furious she could barely see.
Another man came up behind Hennek. “Jakob is dead.”
Hennek’s mouth fell open. “What?”
“He’s in the room where Lord Steffan was sleeping. His throat is cut.”
“Lord Steffan.” Hennek’s voice took on a shocked tone. He shook his head slowly as he stared at Steffan, who was leaning forward after being punched. “You killed one of my best men. I cannot allow you to get away with that, now can I? Come.”
Another guard came alongside Kat so that a guard had hold of each of her arms, and they pulled her out of the room.
Steffan was ahead of her, also flanked on each side by a guard. As they made their way down the corridor, he turned his head to look at her. “Are you all right?” His voice sounded strained.
“Yes. And you?”
“Yes.”
Blood spatters covered his face. She hoped it was the blood of the guard whose throat he had cut. But a bad bruise was already forming on the side of his face.
They made their way down two flights of stairs and out the front door. Even amid all of the commotion, no one, not the servants, nor even her mother, had come out of their rooms to see what was the matter. Hennek must have threatened them with some dire consequence, or locked them in their rooms. She only hoped he hadn’t hurt Mother.
The street was very dark, and it would have been darker if not for the full moon shining over them, climbing its way up to its highest point in the sky. The night air cooled her cheek that burned from the guard’s slap. But Steffan had to be in far worse pain. Had they injured him internally?
Hennek must be taking them out of town so the guards could shoot them and hide their bodies.
They walked through town. No one was on the street.
As they reached the town gate, Hennek said, “I regret that I shall never see the two of you again, but a man has a responsibility to protect himself from those who wish him harm.”
“You cannot kill us, Hennek.” Steffan’s voice was almost disinterested. “My father will come and investigate. He will discover what has happened to me and to your stepdaughter. You will never be able to escape my father’s justice.”
Hennek, one of his creepy smiles plastered on his face, replied, “When your father learns you were mauled by the Beast of Hamlin while hunting for it, he will have nothing to blame me for.”
“And how do you plan to make it look like I was mauled by an animal?”
“You will be mauled by the beast, because I control it.”
“You control the Beast of Hamlin?”
“It was a brilliant plan. About three years ago I had my men capture a wolf cub, only they ended up capturing two. We kept them in a cage in the woods and fed them the best fresh meat, as much as they could eat. They grew so big and tall and fat that by the time they were full grown, there couldn’t have been another wolf in the Holy Roman Empire as big as they were. We also beat them to make sure they hated men, and they stayed fit and strong by wrestling each other in their cage. I had a man train them to come when called. When I was ready to start my mining business, we stopped feeding them until they became ravenous. Then whenever anyone came near the mine entrance, we set the beasts loose and let them do what wolves do—hunt. And kill.”
“It was a clever plan,” Steffan said, as if he were speaking of a plan to build a new stable.
“And it worked. People stopped coming to this hill, so there was little reason to fear that anyone would discover our mine. And when we were ready for workers to extract the silver, it was the perfect cover for the children’s disappearance.”
Katerina marveled at how calm Steffan kept his tone. If not for his tranquil manner, she might have started screaming at this man who had destroyed so many lives.
“And how do you justify that?” Katerina couldn’t keep the fury from her voice. “Stealing innocent children.”
“They were mostly orphans, from the lower classes. No one missed them, and it gave them something productive to do with themselves.”
“That is a horrible thing to say. And less than half the children were orphans.”
“They were foolish, and they made it so easy. And there is no shortage of children in Hamlin, after all. I did their parents a service by giving them one less mouth to feed.”
“You are despicable.” Katerina’s stomach twisted at the man’s cruelty and lack of remorse. “No wonder you could pretend to be so generous. You were using children to work your mines, slaves you wouldn’t have to pay. Why did you not kidnap adults? Undoubtedly they would be better workers and could make a larger profit for you.”
“Adults might escape or fight back. The children were too small and afraid.”
“Bridda escaped.”
“Ah, yes. Little Bridda. She must have slipped away when the guards were sleeping. We are not certain. But that’s another reason children are better than adults. They are easily threatened. I told them that should any of them escape and tell their parents where they’d been, I’d kill their whole family.”
“Could you not make enough money for your greedy black soul by paying workers?”
“Greedy? I give away so much money the people have begun to call me ‘the Benevolent Bürgermeister.’”
“Oh, I know why you don’t hire workers.” The breath went out of her at the realization. “It’s because the land where the mine is . . . It doesn’t belong to you, does it?”
“And I suppose you think the mine and all the silver inside it should belong to the Duke of Hagenheim?”
“Yes, because the land does belong to him.” Katerina glanced at Steffan, but he said nothing.
“Woul
d the duke do as much for Hamlin as I have?”
“Do you mean making mothers fearful that their children will be carried away and eaten by a beast, so fearful they don’t let them go outside their homes to play and never let them out of their sight?”
“Your hatred of me knows no bounds, does it? You are a selfish, ungrateful girl and you always were, trying to turn my own wife against me. Marriage is a sacred covenant. God will avenge me.”
“You are evil,” Katerina spat out.
Hennek looked at her coldly. “You are ungrateful and contentious, a selfish daughter who has the spirit of rebellion.”
“Accusing your stepdaughter does not excuse you, Hennek,” Steffan spoke up. “But truly, the fact that you do not think you have done anything wrong . . . it defies reason and logic.”
“The privileged son of a duke,” Hennek spat. “You know nothing. You are too enamored by this girl’s outward beauty to think for yourself. You should have gone back to Hagenheim when you were able. And now I must go and leave you both to your fate. You brought this on yourselves by stealing my property.” Hennek pointed his finger at them. “You brought this on yourselves.” Then he turned to his guards and muttered, “You know what to do.”
Before he even finished speaking, he was hurrying away down the hill, back toward Hamlin.
Coward.
The guards pulled roughly on her arms and did the same with Steffan. And though he wasn’t as thick or as wide as the guards, he was just as tall, maybe a bit taller.
But she’d lost her knife in the fight, and she suspected Steffan had no weapon either.
They marched on, heading into the dark forest and up the slanting hill toward the place where they’d found the entrance to the mine. Would they kill them in the mine and hide their bodies there?
Poor Mother. She’d be trapped for the rest of her life in that oppressive, nightmarish marriage to Hennek, the illustrious “Benevolent Bürgermeister” of Hamlin.
But if she and Steffan died, perhaps the Duke of Hagenheim would come to seek out answers to what happened to his son and would find the children and free them. Was that God’s plan?
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