Fifteen
Steffan sneaked a glance at Katerina as she worked. She had not complained once since they’d been in this mine—four days and five nights. All that time Steffan had been studying the guards and watching for an opportunity to escape. Katerina was doing the same, as they had discussed the guards’ patterns, which ones seemed the least adept at fighting and the least likely to kill them, and how they might escape.
The guards had relaxed their rule against Steffan and Katerina talking to the children. The night before last, the guards did not stop the children from gathering around Katerina while she sang them a lullaby and talked softly with them. A couple of the littlest ones even climbed into her lap while Kat caressed and cuddled them. It gave Steffan a very unsettled feeling, however, that he couldn’t explain. But every day the desire to set them all free grew stronger.
Then last night Steffan had had a dream that Hennek changed his mind and decided to kill Steffan and Katerina, scared they were going to escape. Steffan awoke feeling a renewed determination to find a way out, thinking that perhaps the dream was God’s way of telling him that now was the time to make an attempt.
Later, as they sat eating the midday meal of bread and cheese and dried fruit, he noticed Katerina staring at his face. “You resemble a priest I knew when I was a child.”
“An ugly priest?”
“No.” Katerina smiled.
Her smiles were like a rainbow after a hard rain.
“No, this priest was kind and always talked to me when Mother would take me to the church to pray. We were very poor after my father died, and once he gave us food.” She shrugged. “I liked him. Do you remember your priest when you were a child?”
“Yes.”
“Did you like him?”
“Yes.”
“When was the last time you went to confession?”
Steffan coughed and raised his brows. She was obviously waiting for him to answer, so he thought about it seriously and cleared his throat. “I have not been to confession for a long time. But I would like to go. Soon.”
“Why?”
“Why do I want to go soon?”
“No. Yes. Well, I meant, why have you not been to confession in a long time?”
“Because for a long time I was not sure I trusted God. And even after I decided I could trust Him . . . it had been so long since I’d confessed, it was just hard. Hard to admit . . . how long it had been and how much I had to confess.”
“I’m sure you do not have that much to confess.”
He raised his brows again. “I cannot tell if you are in jest.” Katerina didn’t seem a particularly naïve person, but if she thought he didn’t have much to confess, then she did not understand what he had done in Poland.
He didn’t really want to talk about confession. He was focused on his dream and his increased drive to get them out of there before time ran out and Hennek had them killed.
“Listen.” He looked her intently in the eye. “Tonight, when the guards think everyone is asleep, we’ll escape. I’ll find a way to steal a sword. Once I get that guard’s sword, I’ll kill him and another guard, then I’ll throw you the second guard’s sword.”
Katerina nodded.
“I have another idea.”
Steffan spun around to confront the small voice behind him. The older boy who had been staring at them since they’d arrived was crouching there.
“I am Albrecht. My friend Verena and I have a plan.”
Katerina’s arm brushed Steffan’s as she leaned forward to get closer to the child. “There are fifty-two of us. But the others are not far from here, digging in that passageway.” He pointed behind him.
“What is your plan?”
“There is a pit down that passageway on the left. It’s where we dump our loose stones and dirt. If the children in the passageway create a lot of noise and force the guards to come see what is happening, we can trip them or attack them with our picks and push them into the pit. There are too many of us for them to kill us all.”
“That sounds very dangerous for you,” Katerina said.
“No more dangerous than you and this man trying to kill all the guards by yourselves. Besides, it will work. The guards have become less cautious with us. We’re only children, after all. They don’t expect us to do anything.”
“No.” Steffan shook his head. “I cannot let you endanger yourselves. I can kill the guards, and Katerina can help me. While we are fighting the guards, you and the other children can escape. Are there any other openings or ways to get out of this place?”
“I believe there is only one.”
“Well, then, let’s get to it. I will wait until the fresh guards come, just after we’ve all laid down for the night, and then I will attack. So listen for a commotion, then stay where you are and wait for us to come and get you.”
“We can help,” Albrecht said.
“I don’t want any of you doing anything that could get you hurt. Do you understand?” His throat constricted and he could barely speak. What was wrong with him?
The boy Albrecht stared back at him. “We will defend ourselves and fight for our freedom.”
“You are just children. Let Katerina and me defend you.”
Albrecht didn’t say anything.
“Be very careful,” Katerina said. “Watch over the little ones and make sure they get out. Steffan and I shall do our very best, with God’s help, to save us all.”
Steffan was still struggling to breathe. He knew why. This boy reminded him of the shepherd’s boy. He couldn’t let these children die, because then he’d be haunted by all of them as well. He wasn’t sure he could bear it.
“You stay alive,” he heard himself telling Albrecht. “All of you, stay alive.”
“What passes there?” A guard took a step toward them. “You, boy. What are you doing? Go along, back to your place. And you two.” He pointed at Steffan and Katerina. “Stop talking or I’ll see that you get no supper tonight.”
The guard grunted and went back to the rock where he’d been sitting. These guards didn’t really believe it was possible for their prisoners to escape, and hopefully that would work in their favor.
* * *
Katerina lay on her blanket and held her breath while the new guards arrived and the old ones left.
Steffan’s body looked tense as he lay staring in the guards’ direction. His head was on the ground, but his arms were taut and his hand was beside him, as though ready to push himself up. He told her he would wait until he was sure the daytime guards were well away and would not hear his attack.
Katerina prayed, Help us, God. Her thoughts were flitting so fast, it was the only thing she was able to say. Help us.
The lecherous Ruger was there. But he was short, and Katerina suspected he was the weakest of the guards. Hopefully Steffan would pick him to attack first.
Minutes passed as Katerina clutched her little chisel under her thin, moth-eaten blanket. None of the guards called out anyone to ridicule or harass, as they sometimes did. Instead, though they were facing their prisoners, they were standing close to each other, talking in low voices. She heard Hennek’s name once or twice.
Finally, Ruger moved away from the other guards and pulled something out of his pocket, probably the dried meat jerky he often chewed on.
Steffan sprang up from the ground and leapt at Ruger.
Katerina jumped to her feet as Ruger reached behind his back for his sword. Kat held her breath. Don’t let him get his sword out before Steffan reaches him.
Ruger’s hand was on the hilt. He was drawing it upward, just getting the point freed from the scabbard.
Steffan grabbed the hilt as he knocked Ruger onto his back. Steffan was on top of Ruger. But who had possession of the sword?
Steffan raised the hilt up and stabbed downward.
The other two guards shouted, unsheathing their swords as they ran. Katerina ran toward them with nothing but her little chisel.
The
children erupted from their beds and yelled, a war cry of child voices.
Steffan straightened to meet the other two guards. Katerina ran closer, ready to pounce on Ruger with her chisel, but Ruger didn’t move.
Steffan seemed taller than ever as he met the other two guards. He slammed his sword into the first one and shoved. The first guard stumbled back into the second one, and Steffan quickly took advantage and stabbed the guard in the neck.
That guard’s eyes went wide. His hands went loose and he dropped his sword.
The sound of children’s screams echoed from the passageway behind them as Katerina swooped down and snatched up the sword, then leapt back so she wouldn’t be in Steffan’s way.
He clashed blades with the third guard and yelled, “Go help the children!”
Should she defy his order and stay and help him kill the guard he was fighting? But he was a good swordsman, and someone needed to get the children to safety.
She turned and ran toward the passageway. She followed the sound of the yelling and screaming and entered the dark passage.
Sixteen
Katerina had never been in this tunnel, and it was too dark to see where she was going, but as long as she could hear the screams and yelling, she would head in that direction.
She kept her hand on the wall, stumbling over a rock, then hit a sharp curve that had her bumping into the wall, but she kept going. God, don’t let me fall into that pit Albrecht was talking about. And please let Steffan win his sword battle.
A man’s voice ahead made her speed up her pace. He was yelling and cursing.
A dim light flickered. Finally she was able to see where she was going, and the voices were getting louder.
As she rounded another bend, she could see, from the light of a torch, a guard with a child clinging to his back. The child was pulling the guard’s hair with one hand and slapping his face with the other, while various children attacked his front with picks and chisels. He stumbled, alternately grabbing at the child on his back and the one in front of him, but they always managed to dart out of his reach. Then the child on his back wrapped his arms around the man’s eyes.
The children in front redoubled their efforts to push him, until he got his hand around the throat of one little boy, probably about seven or eight years old. The boy fought, pounding at the guard’s arm, but the guard lifted him off the floor and showed no sign of letting go.
Kat rushed forward. Should she strike with her sword and risk hitting a child? Because now the children were grabbing the man’s arms, scratching at his hands to make him let go. He cursed and threatened, and then Kat saw the goal: a large gaping hole in the direction the children were pushing him.
The large man continued to stumble closer to it, and the clawing, biting children finally managed to get him to let go of the little boy whose neck he was squeezing. The boy fell to the ground, gasping and coughing and crying. But at least he was breathing.
Two more steps. One more step. Kat reached out and grabbed the child on his back just as the man fell. The child let go at the right moment and Katerina snatched him away from the edge of the pit.
Albrecht and the older girl, who must be Verena, appeared beside her.
“Are all the guards in the pit?” Kat asked.
Albrecht and Verena nodded.
She turned to the children who were gathered round.
“We did it!” Katerina’s heart was pounding so hard it hurt, but they were alive!
“Hoorah!” The children cheered and whooped, some hugging each other, others jumping up and down. Katerina embraced Verena and then Albrecht.
“Come,” Kat urged. “Is everyone here? We must hurry.”
“Are we leaving anyone behind?” Verena looked like a miniature mama as she craned her neck and appeared to be counting heads.
“No one is left in the farthest chamber,” one little girl said. “I was the last one out.”
“Very good. Let us go.” Verena herded them with her hand.
Anxious to see if Steffan was all right, Kat allowed Verena to take up the rear as she hurried ahead.
When they were spilling into the large chamber where she’d left Steffan, her eyes hungrily sought his tall form. When she didn’t see him, she called, “Steffan!”
No one answered. Two bodies lay on the floor. But where was Steffan and his last opponent?
Katerina ran forward and searched the ground. “Steffan!”
Then she saw a body lying facedown against the wall. Was it Steffan? She ran toward it. No, it was the guard. She let out a strangled sound.
“I’m here,” a muffled voice came from above her.
“Where?”
“Up here.”
She looked up and there was Steffan’s face emerging from a hole in the wall a few feet above the guard’s body.
“What are you doing up there?”
He didn’t answer as he disappeared for a few seconds, then his feet reappeared as he lowered himself down. He used the guard’s body as a step and emerged, dirtier but smiling.
“Making sure we have money if we need it.” He held out a bag and a handful of silver coins. “Hennek must be using the extracted silver from the ore to make coins, silver guilders.”
“And you found where he was storing the silver money he was making?” Kat reached out and picked up a piece.
“How badly are you hurt?”
The question, spoken by Verena behind her, pulled Kat’s attention away from Steffan and to the child Verena was talking to, the little boy whom the guard had been choking. Kat knelt beside him. “Are you well? Can you speak?”
The boy nodded and lifted his head. “I was brave, wasn’t I?”
“You were so very brave. I’m sure your mother will be so proud when I tell her.”
“I don’t have a mother.”
“What is your name?”
“Dietmar.”
“Well, Dietmar, you must continue to be brave, because we must escape from a very bad man.”
“The piper?”
“Piper?”
“The man who plays the flute pipe. He’s the one who lured us away, then his men grabbed us and put us in a sack and carried us here, to the mine.”
So that was how Hennek had managed to take the children without leaving any trace. She had known he was responsible for taking them, but luring them away with something as innocent as playing a pipe . . . Children loved when Hennek played his pipe. He would play in the town square at every holiday, and sometimes on market days. People would smile and compliment his playing and thank him, assuming he was good and gentle-hearted for wanting to entertain children. How dare he use that against them!
“Yes, we must go now so the piper cannot get us. Are you ready?”
Dietmar nodded.
She turned and found Verena just behind her.
“Is everyone here? Anyone badly hurt?”
“I counted fifty-two, including Albrecht and me, so that is everyone. No one seems badly hurt. Just a few bruises.”
“Were the guards not able to strike anyone with their swords?”
“The children all attacked at once and stole their swords before they could draw them.”
“Miraculous.” Kat breathed a prayer—“Thank You, God”—as Steffan came up beside her.
“What do we do with them now?” Steffan looked nervous.
Katerina opened her mouth, shut it, then said, “I guess we forgot to talk about that. But we have to get them far away from Hennek.”
“We should take them to Hagenheim. But for now we had better get out of here.” Steffan looked at Albrecht and Verena. “Can you get them to the opening?”
“Of course.” Albrecht turned and spoke to the children. “We’re getting out of here, but we have to stick together, you understand?”
“Yes, we will,” several of them said.
“This is Steffan and Katerina, and they will help us. But we all have to be brave.”
“Yes, Albrecht.” S
ome of the little faces looked eager. Some still had that dazed, frightened look, but they would feel better, surely, once they were out of this hole in the ground.
They started toward the passage that would take them back to the opening through which they had all been forced to climb down. But this time they were climbing up, to freedom.
* * *
Steffan hurried to the entrance of the mine so he could help the smaller children climb up the ladder.
The three men Steffan had killed weighed heavy in his chest, but he’d done it so they could escape. They were men profiting off children, and he had little choice. He did not, would not, regret the deaths of these henchmen of Hennek’s . . . as he had regretted some other men he’d killed.
He hoisted a little girl up the ladder, and an older girl came alongside her and helped her climb the rest of the way. Most of the children scrambled up the ladder without any help at all, but one particularly small girl started crying when she got to the ladder.
“I’ll help you.” Steffan placed a hand on her small, frail shoulder.
The girl only cried harder and shrank away from him.
Katerina came forward and bent down to her level. “I will go with you. Don’t be afraid.”
“I can’t,” the little girl wailed.
“What if I carry her on my back?” Steffan suggested. Nearly all the children were above ground now, waiting for them.
“That might work.”
They continued helping the children up the ladder while the littlest girl clung to Katerina’s side with a tiny fistful of Katerina’s tunic.
Finally the little girl was the last one left. Katerina bent to look into her face.
“I’m going to put you on Steffan’s back. Is that all right?”
The little girl nodded.
Steffan knelt on the floor as Katerina lifted the girl. “Hold on to him. That’s good.”
Her hands clutched his shoulders. Steffan stood and, leaning forward, grasped the ladder and started climbing. He prayed the wooden ladder would hold their weight and moved steadily up. When he reached the top, hands appeared in the opening and pulled the little girl up and off his shoulders. Steffan pulled himself out and turned to see if Katerina needed any help. But she hoisted herself out before he could offer.
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