He hurried down one alley and then the next, avoiding the main streets. The only house he knew of was Frau Goschen’s, and since that was where Albrecht and Klaus were taking the children, he decided to head there and be sure they were safe.
He brushed past a woman pouring out a pan of dirty water into the street.
“Pardon me, Fräulein, but did two men pass this way?”
“I haven’t seen anyone.” She eyed his crossbow, but he hurried down to the corner and turned into an alley that followed the town wall. And just ahead was an old tower built into the wall.
The gate just inside it was open. He climbed the steps to the top, where he was able to look down on the streets of the town. There below him, not far from the tower, were Hennek and Otto. They were standing in an alley and peeking through a window into a house. He could only see the roof of the house from his vantage point, but if he was not mistaken, it was Frau Goschen’s.
Steffan ran down the steps, his heart pounding and sweat trickling down his face. He shrugged out of his cloak since he no longer needed a disguise.
He rounded a corner and there was Otto, sword drawn in one hand, his other hand boosting Hennek through the window. Otto turned and saw him just as Hennek disappeared through the window.
“It’s Steffan!”
Steffan aimed the crossbow at Otto. A drop of sweat dripped into his eye just before he pulled the trigger mechanism and shot the bolt.
He blinked away the offending drop in time to see Otto dodge to one side and the bolt sail past him, landing in the middle of the town square, harmlessly on the ground.
Otto charged him. Steffan turned, dropped his now-useless crossbow, and ran.
He ran as fast as he could, his heart pumping hard as he sucked in air. He headed straight to the house where he’d left his sword. He could hear Otto behind him, crashing into a woman carrying an armful of copper pans, sending them clanging to the cobblestones, letting Steffan know that he was right behind him.
Steffan made it to the house. He ran through the open back door, down the corridor, and into the room where he’d left his sword. He snatched it off the floor, then dove out the window, landing on his shoulder. He rolled, jumped to his feet, and ran back the way he had come, back to Frau Goschen’s house.
As he ran, he glanced over his shoulder and saw Otto not far behind.
Steffan ran into the large cobblestone town square that opened up just outside Frau Goschen’s front door. He held up his sword, pointed at Otto, and yelled, “This man is trying to steal away the children in Frau Goschen’s house!”
People stopped what they were doing and stared. Otto also halted. The burly guard lowered his sword and glanced around with an angry glare.
“He works for an evil man who, even now, is inside threatening to harm her children!”
The people began muttering and looking at each other. A couple of men stepped forward and said, “What is going on here? Who are you?”
“I am Steffan, the son of Duke Wilhelm of Hagenheim.” He paused while another murmur went through the crowd. Then he pointed at Otto. “Help me stop this man!”
Suddenly Frau Goschen appeared at the front door, her eyes wild. She said, “That’s not true. No one is trying to steal children from this house.”
Frau Goschen was saying the words, but her body was stiff and her tone was tense. Then Steffan caught a glimpse of Hennek just behind her.
Steffan started walking toward Frau Goschen. Fear shone from her eyes, but she said nothing.
Otto was walking toward the house as well, but since Otto was closer, he would reach Frau Goschen first. Steffan increased his pace, but so did Otto.
“The children are safe with me,” Frau Goschen said, no doubt because Hennek was holding a knife to her back—or worse, to one of the children’s necks.
Steffan changed course and ran straight toward Otto, striking with his sword just two steps from Frau Goschen.
Otto’s sword met his as their blades clashed again and again. Otto bested him in strength, but Steffan was a bit faster. Still, it seemed impossible to disarm him. Every time he made a move to try, Otto’s grip stayed strong.
Otto started his own onslaught, pushing Steffan back. Steffan had to be careful not to lock swords with him, or else Otto might use his extra weight to shove him to the ground, which would mean certain death for Steffan.
Suddenly he heard the shouts and screams of children coming from behind Frau Goschen. The sound must have drawn Otto’s attention for a moment, because Steffan was able to slip his blade past Otto’s and nick him in the chin with his sword point.
Otto’s expression was full of rage, and he began to beat at Steffan’s sword indiscriminately, slashing and slicing. Steffan jumped forward and back, side to side, throwing Otto off-balance. Finally, Otto struck to the right as Steffan jumped out of the way and quickly stabbed Otto’s sword arm just above the wrist.
Otto’s arm moved down in a defensive gesture, giving Steffan the chance to strike his hand, knocking Otto’s sword to the ground.
They were quickly surrounded by men dressed in the colors of the Duke of Hagenheim. They grabbed Otto and subdued him. When Steffan looked up toward the doorway, he could see the children beating Hennek’s face and head. Two were on his back and shoulders, and others were kicking his legs and biting his arms and hands.
Steffan’s father strode toward him as his soldiers apprehended Otto and Hennek.
Twenty-Four
Katerina started running toward the children, but by the time she got there, they had Hennek on the ground, curled into a ball, his arms over his head. Frau Goschen was yelling and shaking her fist at him, looking as if she would have hit him if the children hadn’t covered him completely. They had him so well in hand that she looked back at Steffan and saw that he was embracing his father, while Otto was being dragged away, obviously injured.
Some of the duke’s men came and dragged Hennek away from the children, who seemed reluctant to stop pummeling him. One girl, who was probably about nine years old, kept screaming at him. A little boy, one of the youngest ones, stuck his tongue out at him. But Albrecht and Verena just watched as the guards apprehended him. They turned to each other, and triumphant smiles broke out on their faces. They hugged, then hugged the children, smiling and congratulating each other.
For his part, Hennek seemed relieved to be away from the children, who had given him a bloody lip and scratched his face and arms rather badly.
When Kat joined the children, they all cheered, and she cheered with them, kneeling to hug them.
“We did it, Katerina,” one of the little ones said. “We stopped the bad man from hurting Frau Goschen.”
“Yes, you did. I am so proud of you. You’re so brave and strong, all of you.”
The children beamed back at her before talking and laughing with each other and Frau Goschen. Perhaps getting the chance to fight back a little bit would help them be able to move past this terrible event in their lives.
Kat straightened and looked around for Steffan. He was surrounded by his father’s men, who kept asking him questions. He had lines of sweat running down through the powder from his hairline to his beard. The healing salve must have done its work, as he seemed to have all his strength back. She only hoped he didn’t reopen his wounds during the strenuous sword fight.
Finally, the men left off asking him questions, and he came striding toward her.
“I’m so glad you didn’t get yourself killed,” she said as he approached, “though you do look as if you dunked your head in a flour barrel.”
“Oh. I nearly forgot my disguise.” He looked sheepish as he ran a hand over his beard. “I need to shave this off. It’s starting to itch.”
Should she hug him? There were too many men around so she just smiled and said, “I’m pleased you were able to defeat Otto. How do your wounds feel now?”
“As good as healed.” Steffan gave her a half grin. “And these children. Are they not nearly
as fierce as I am?”
“Absolutely.” She looked down at them as they played and jumped and danced around, as if they were normal, happy children who had not been torn away from their families and treated abominably.
Kat suddenly noticed a red line of blood marring Steffan’s sleeve. Her stomach twisted.
“Your arm.” She took hold of his wrist, lifted his arm, and pushed up his sleeve. “Is it bad?”
“Just a scratch.”
“It doesn’t look deep, but you should be sure and put the salve on it and bandage it.”
“I will.” His smile was gentle as he stared down at her. He brushed the back of his hand over her cheek, in his now-familiar way, his gaze settling on her lips.
A movement out of the corner of her eye drew her gaze to Duke Wilhelm walking toward them.
“I think it might be best to take Hennek back to Hamlin and put him on trial there,” the duke said. “I will question the town council and anyone else who may have been helping him in his schemes.”
Katerina said, “I have some papers hidden that may prove Hennek has been stealing money from the town treasury—or at least he was stealing before he started making so much money from the silver mine.”
“And have you lived in Hamlin all your life, Katerina?”
“My family has lived there for three generations at least.”
“You must know a lot of people there.”
“I do.”
“I will need someone who could help me discern who among the men of Hamlin are wise and of good character, to help me form a new town council. Would you be willing to help?”
“I would, yes.” Katerina did know as much as, or more than, anyone in Hamlin about which men would make good advisors to the new mayor of Hamlin, especially after growing up in the same household with the corrupt mayor. Certainly anyone who colluded with Hennek—or was deluded by him—would not. Katerina paid attention and knew them all.
It meant a lot to her that Duke Wilhelm asked for her help and her opinions. That was more than most leaders would do. Not only was she a woman but she was very young. Still, she was well-educated. Very few men in Hamlin had the education she had had, thanks to Hennek’s desire to boast about how generous he was to his stepdaughter.
The duke nodded. “Now I suppose we should find provisions and lodging for the night.”
They proceeded to do just that after sending some men to tend to the family and servants at Frau Gruber’s, whose injuries were not serious, and drag the remainder of Hennek’s men off to the town’s dungeon for safekeeping.
* * *
Steffan wanted to sleep in the stable with the other men, but the mayor of Keiterhafen adamantly insisted the Duke of Hagenheim and his son, and Katerina, sleep in his home. Steffan and Father were sharing a room, and Katerina was in the room across the corridor from them. After a good meal at the Bürgermeister of Keiterhafen’s table, he and Father were preparing themselves for bed.
“Don’t you want me to send for a healer?” Father asked him when they were alone. “Just to make sure your wounds are on the mend?”
“No, Father. I thank you, but I will just keep putting the salve on them. I am much better now.”
“I am glad you are well. And I am very proud of you, son. I always believed you would do great things, right wrongs, and find your own way and purpose in life. A good purpose.”
How could Steffan have been so angry with his father all those years? He’d felt slighted, and he felt his father didn’t understand him, didn’t care what he wanted. And he’d been so angry about being a younger son, without a place or an inheritance or a title.
“I must have seemed so foolish, always defiant and angry.”
“You were young and frustrated. Most men feel that way, I think, at some point when they are young.”
“You surely never felt that way. You were the oldest son of a duke. You knew exactly what you would do for the rest of your life.”
“Not true. I was told whom I would marry. I was saddled with responsibilities, the pressure to lead, whether I wanted to or not. My father died when I was about your age and I had no choice but to take over, get married to my betrothed, and be the best duke I could, with no one to tell me how.”
“I had not thought about it that way.”
“But God was with me. I made mistakes, but I married a wonderful woman and had eight perfect children.”
They both smiled at him calling Steffan and his siblings “perfect.”
They talked for a few more minutes about new happenings in Hagenheim and the news of his siblings. Then Steffan said, “Katerina is the one who discovered what was happening to the children in Hamlin. Is she not a brave and exceptional young woman, Father?”
“She is indeed.” Father was looking at him with knowing eyes. “She is clever and wise beyond her years, and has made it her business to know everything about her town and its people. And she is very fair of face and form, do you not think?”
“Of course. Who would not think so?”
“Do you care for her?”
“Yes.” It made his palms sweat to admit that.
“And she cares for you, I am sure.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Do you not think she cares for you?”
“I . . .” He remembered her kiss. But she had made no effort to be near him since she and Father and all his men had arrived in Keiterhafen. Perhaps the kiss was only a fleeting fancy.
Father was still waiting for him to answer the question.
“I think she may care for me. But . . . I am not sure.” Steffan had done so many terrible things in his life. “I know I don’t deserve her.”
Father raised his brows.
“She is a very good maiden who has done nothing but good in her life, while I have done many bad things and hardly any good, as you well know. I thought I could redeem myself if I could save these children and do a great, heroic thing, but I realize nothing can make up for what I did wrong.” He turned away and faced the paneled wall of the wealthy mayor’s home. He did not wish to talk about this anymore. Why had he said so much? He began counting the panes in the tall mullioned window to distract his painful thoughts.
“Katerina knows you have a good heart. An evil man is not sorry for what he has done and rarely if ever believes he is bad. You are not an evil man, Steffan. And Katerina is wise enough to recognize that.”
Perhaps he wasn’t evil like Hennek, but . . . “What have I done in my life that makes me worthy?”
“You aren’t worthy because of what you’ve done, son, because no one can ever do enough to be truly worthy. You’re worthy because God gave His Son to make us worthy.”
What Father was saying was hard to grasp. In his mind he’d always been the lowest of his family.
“And you helped Katerina save fifty-two children.” Father smiled.
It was true. He did help Kat save the children.
“You have a good heart that desires to do good. And if Katerina loves you, why not allow that to influence you to do more good deeds?”
“I am not certain she loves me. She does not hate me. That is all I know.” And he could not have said that when he first met her. “Katerina does not give her trust easily, and she has good reason for that.”
* * *
Katerina was tired and sore, her backside hurting from being in the saddle so much. She dreaded the day’s journey tomorrow, but she was excited to think of bringing the children home to their parents, who would be so overjoyed to see them.
Had Duke Wilhelm thought of how he planned to take the children back? The little ones certainly could not ride on horseback the whole way. Most of them had probably never been on a horse. Perhaps she should go speak to him about it. He’d said that if she needed anything, or thought of anything the children needed, to tell him.
She opened her door and stuck her head out. Had they gone to bed already? A line of light streamed out from the crack of their door, which was n
ot completely closed. She heard low voices, and then she heard her name.
Katerina held her breath and stepped out into the corridor. She crept closer to their door, trying to listen in.
“You can win her over,” Duke Wilhelm was saying, his voice barely discernible.
Her heart tripped and thumped wildly in her chest. She couldn’t let them catch her eavesdropping, but she desperately wanted to know if they were speaking about her.
Steffan made an undecipherable sound. “. . . didn’t trust me . . .”
Duke Wilhelm mumbled something, his voice too low to hear. “. . . one never knows . . .” Then he cleared his throat. “. . . that I will need to appoint a new mayor of Hamlin. And since you have shown yourself to be brave and responsible, and I see so much more maturity in you, I have decided to appoint you, Steffan, the new Bürgermeister.”
Katerina’s heart jumped to her throat. Her first thought was how happy this would make Steffan, to know he had won his father’s respect enough to be granted such a position. But the very next moment she felt a pang . . . of jealousy? Resentment? Envy? She would be a better mayor than Steffan, but a woman would never be granted such a position. Yet truly, Steffan couldn’t know as much about the duties of a Bürgermeister as she did.
Her heart thudded heavily. She didn’t like these ugly thoughts. She moved as noiselessly as she could over the smooth floor of the corridor back into her room and closed the door.
She didn’t want to think these things about Steffan, didn’t want to be envious or resentful. Steffan would make a good mayor. He would never take a bribe, never cheat the town or steal money. And it must mean so much to him that his father had so much confidence in him.
She had to be at peace with this, had to get her feelings under control, had to be pleased for Steffan. He would be living in Hamlin. That was good, was it not? She would be able to see him often. That was what she wanted, wasn’t it? And if Steffan had any tender feelings for her . . . But perhaps everything would be different when he was the Bürgermeister.
* * *
Steffan couldn’t speak for a moment. All the breath left him. Finally, when the air came rushing back, he said, “Father, I’m so honored that you would think of me as the new Bürgermeister.”
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