“Of course not.”
“I didn’t think so.” She smiled in a teasing way.
“Who knows Hamlin better, or loves it more, than you?”
Duke Wilhelm called to Steffan. He was forced to lean away from Kat.
“Yes, Father?”
“What about this plague of rats? Perhaps our beast slayers could come up with a plan to get rid of them.”
“We will, Father.” Steffan raised his brows at Kat.
“I do recall you promising to rid the town of its rats.” She was smiling now, a challenging glint in her eye, which was a very beguiling sight to behold.
“Did I? Well then, I had best get to it.”
“Do you know what you will do? How you will get rid of them?”
“I have an idea or two.”
They discussed a few ideas, talked and laughed and teased each other, but always he was aware that they were not alone, even though no one seemed to be paying attention to them. Apparently Father was interested in speaking with the men from the town council, the ones with whom Hennek had always been at odds, the duke having already dismissed the others.
When they’d all finished eating, one of the men said, “Duke Wilhelm, will you favor us with a song? We all know you play the lute, and I brought mine.”
Father’s face showed surprise, then he smiled. “I think I would enjoy playing a few songs. I thank you.” He took the musical instrument and began strumming the strings. Soon he was playing a familiar ballad, and the men all began singing the words.
* * *
“Your father is not as I imagined a duke would be.” Katerina smiled.
“Are you disappointed?”
“Not at all. He is humble and kind and wise, conscientious, determined to do what is right and fair. I had always heard great things about the Duke of Hagenheim, but to actually meet him . . .”
“You must be surprised I am his son.”
“Why? No, you are the kind of son I would expect Duke Wilhelm to have.”
“Me?”
“Yes. You are noble and kind, brave and protective. You do not shrink from rescuing a band of children from a dangerous man intent on killing them and you.”
“You think I am noble and brave . . . and those other things?”
“Perhaps I should not have told you, for I am sorry to say that you are a bit prone to arrogance and I do not wish to tempt you to indulge in that fault.”
He squinted at her. “Sometimes I cannot tell if you are in jest or in earnest.”
She smiled and leaned closer. “Someone has to tease you. A bit of your own medicine, yes?”
And speaking of temptations, his lips looked so inviting. Would she—should she—ever kiss them again? No. If he wanted to kiss her, he would. She would not throw herself at him. She leaned away from him just as his father ended the song.
The duke said, “Katerina, do you have a favorite song I could play for you and your mother?”
“Mother’s favorite song is ‘Stella Splendens.’” But she rarely heard it because even though Hennek liked to play his pipe in the town marketplace, he said music in the house was too loud and was the din of the devil.
Duke Wilhelm began to play the song, and Mother’s expression was so happy. But then her eyes got watery and her chin trembled.
When the song was over, Mother said, “Continue to play and sing, whatever you like, but please excuse me. I must retire to my room, and I bid you all a good night.”
The men all returned her good night wishes, nodding respectfully to her as she left.
Katerina turned to Steffan. “Please excuse me as well. I shall see you tomorrow, I am sure.”
His eyes bored into hers, then he took her hand and kissed it. “I bid you a good night, then, Katerina.”
Was it her imagination, or did his fingers linger on her hand, even as his voice lingered over her name?
She hurried away before she could imagine any other sentimentalities.
Once upstairs, she knocked on Mother’s chamber door. “It’s Katerina.”
Mother opened the door. Her smile was genuine. “My darling, come in.”
“Mother, I just wanted to see how you were doing. Are you well?”
“Of course. I am not so fragile.”
“But are you sad about Hennek? I was worried you would not believe all the terrible things we’ve told you that he’s done.”
“Oh, I believe them. I am grieved over the children being taken and mistreated. It is horrendous, and I am ashamed I never tried to speak out against him.”
“I was afraid you still loved him, and I didn’t want you to be heartbroken over him.”
“Not to worry, darling. The truth is, I’ve known for a long time that he was not a good man. In fact . . .” Her eyes were glistening with tears, but she was smiling. “I am glad I no longer have to live with him. We are free, darling, and I’m ashamed I stayed with him for so long.”
“No, don’t be ashamed.” Relief flooded Katerina, buoying her spirit. “We are free, and that is good! But you should not blame yourself. It was not safe for you to leave. Hennek would have done terrible things to you, to me, if you had defied him.”
“He threatened to hurt you if I ever left him.” Mother sighed. “I did love him. I didn’t want to believe that he was capable of such depravity, that he was cruel. Even when the truth was right in front of me, I wouldn’t believe it. For a while. But when I saw him goading you, saying one thing and doing something else, pretending to be a righteous, godly man when he was stealing from the town . . . I stopped loving him. I only feared him. But I’m sorry I ever married him, and I’m sorry for the ways he hurt you, Katerina. I never should have allowed—”
“Mother, you did the best you could. You have nothing to be sorry for, except that you fell in the path of a very bad man. You are too kind and gentle. Of course you did not believe that the person who promised to love you was actually dangerous.”
“But will you forgive me anyway, for not knowing what was happening? For letting him fool me into thinking he was good when I should have known better?”
“Yes, Mother, I forgive you.”
“I should have protected you.” A tear fell from one eye, then the other, and ran down her cheeks.
“I forgive you.” Katerina put her arms around her mother and they held each other tight. “All is well now. Duke Wilhelm is here, and he will make sure we have a man of good character to lead our town. We shall build our town’s defenses and rid ourselves of the evil within.”
* * *
Steffan made his way through the early-morning vendors set up in the town center, for today was market day. The spire of Hamlin Cathedral was a beacon up ahead, easily seen above the rooftops, drawing him to his destination.
Steffan went inside the church and sought out a priest. Finding none, he went into the garden behind the church. A very large rose bush, with vines climbing up the brick wall, was in full bloom, displaying red roses amidst the greenery of the vines. Steffan drew near to the bush and broke off a particularly perfect bloom. He would give it to Katerina, but would she even want it? Perhaps she hated flowers. He did not know that about her.
“Good morning.”
Steffan stepped around the bush and found a man dressed in priestly robes cutting blooms and putting them into a basket.
“Good morning. Are you the priest?”
“I am. How may I serve you?”
“I would like to confess my sins. Will you hear my confession?”
“Of course.” He smiled, showing wrinkles in his cheeks at the corners of his mouth. He moved slowly and his expression was mild. “Would you like to go inside, to the confession box? Or we can sit here, if you are not opposed. I do not think you will be overheard.”
Steffan glanced around. It was a small, rather isolated garden. “We can sit here.”
The priest motioned toward a bench and they both sat. “When was your last confession?”
“A few year
s ago. I’m afraid I have a lot to confess.”
“You may take as much time as you need. Unburdening oneself is very important.”
Where should he start? He decided to start at the beginning, and he told the priest about the little boy, Heinlin, who had died because of him. Somehow it was a bit easier to tell the priest, whom he did not know, than it had been to tell Katerina, whom he wanted to like and admire him. He told of how he had felt jealous that his older brothers seemed to have been provided for, and even his sister’s husband was given an inheritance, and yet Steffan, the third son, would receive very little as an inheritance.
“I never should have been jealous. And I was rebellious. I rebelled against my father in a particularly terrible way.”
“Tell me.”
“My father sent my younger brother and me to fight on the side of his ally, Duke Konrad of Poland, but I deserted my brother and our fellow soldiers, joined with the Teutonic Knights, and fought against Duke Konrad.
“Later, I shot my brother’s future wife with an arrow in another jealous pique.”
“You shot your brother’s wife?”
“Well, she was not his wife at the time, and I thought she was a boy—she was a soldier.”
“Ah, yes. I have heard the story of the warrior maiden who fought with Duke Konrad’s soldiers. So you shot her in battle?”
“Not exactly. She was sent to scout out our whereabouts. But I shot her because I was jealous of my brother’s attention and concern for him—her. I was angry my brother had not followed me and joined with the Teutonic Knights. When we were boys, he followed my lead, and I led him into many disobedient acts, I’m afraid. But when we were grown, he listened to Father and not to me. He became the ‘good’ son, while I was always the ‘bad’ son. I decided I might as well be bad, since everyone else saw me that way.”
“Did anyone tell you that you were the bad son?”
“I heard the servants whispering about it more than once. They said I was the one who would be a disappointment to my father and mother. It made me very angry, because the rest of my brothers and sisters were so good, while I was so . . . angry.”
“Did you ever speak to your father about this?”
“No. I was ashamed.”
“Is there more?”
“Yes. I have killed many men.”
“In battle?”
“Yes, all in battle or in self-defense. But I was on the wrong side of the battle. I only fought for my own selfish ends—I wanted to be a knight, and the best way I could think to be knighted was to distinguish myself with the Teutonic Knights.”
“Some would say you were fighting on the side of God and righteousness if you were fighting with the Teutonic Knights.”
“But I knew their intentions were oppressive in this particular fight. They were trying to take over land that was not rightfully theirs. I knew it was wrong. In my heart . . . I was grieved over what I was doing, but I was angry, defiant, crazed.” Steffan’s voice was barely a whisper as he put a hand over his eyes. If only the things he was saying weren’t true. But they were.
“I also killed several men in the last few days who had taken and were holding children captive and working them in the mine.”
The priest nodded.
“And I had many thoughts of kissing a maiden.”
When Steffan did not go on, the priest said, “Is the maiden married?”
“No.”
“Are you married?”
“No.”
“Then thinking about kissing her is not a sin.”
“But . . . I also kissed her.”
“Against her will?”
“No.”
“I do not believe that is a sin either, if you only kissed.”
“But I am not worthy of her. She is much too pure and good for me.” When he said it out loud, it sounded rather silly.
“Many a maiden has loved a man unworthy of her. But it is not a sin to love.”
Steffan sat thinking about that. If Katerina did love him . . .
“My son, have you finished your confession?”
“Yes.”
“As penance, you must confess your childhood sins to your father and mother and your sisters and brothers in accordance to how you wronged them and ask their forgiveness.”
“I have already done that.”
“Then you must pray for an hour at the altar. And you must accept God’s forgiveness even as the thief on the cross accepted our Lord’s forgiveness as he hung there, and stop carrying your weight of guilt. Your guilt feelings are not serving any good purpose.”
The priest’s eyelids fluttered open and closed as he held his hand toward Steffan and said the words of absolution. “God, the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of His Son, has reconciled the world to Himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins; through the ministry of the Church may God give you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Go in peace.”
“Thank you.”
“And do not worry about being worthy. If you love the maiden, and if you submit to God and ask Him to make you worthy, then you will be worthy. Only God can make a man worthy, after all.” He put a hand on Steffan’s shoulder and looked intently into his face. After a few moments, he gave a tiny nod. “You have a good heart. You just need to trust.”
Trust? Trust wasn’t Steffan’s struggle; it was Katerina’s.
Steffan thought he’d feel worthy if he saved the children and captured Hennek, but he’d done that, and his father had even praised him for it, and he still didn’t feel worthy. Perhaps he needed to . . . trust . . . that God and his father had forgiven him, that his heart—and his actions—had changed.
Steffan went back inside the church and knelt before the altar to pray. He gazed up at the crucifix. Jesus sacrificed Himself, not so Steffan could feel guilty but so he did not have to.
By the time he left, his shoulders felt lighter, as if a weight had been lifted off. Even his face, his eyes and mouth, felt relaxed and less tense. Could people see it? Could he now allow himself to forget about all those bad things that had happened in the past, the things he had done that he was now ashamed of?
His siblings, who were all so good . . . had they ever felt this way? This joy and lightness of spirit? Had Katerina? They were good already, but he . . . he had been forgiven much, and he would never forget it, never forget this feeling. “Thank You, God.”
Twenty-Seven
When Steffan came to the house, his father and Katerina were speaking with the men of the town council, discussing who would be in charge of the town treasury and tax revenue.
“It should be someone other than the new mayor,” Katerina said.
Father nodded. “The town needs a treasurer who will work with the Bürgermeister. And the ledgers and bookkeeping should be open to the town council to verify that the information there is correct and that no one is being corrupt.”
Steffan listened while they continued the discussion. Always Katerina was there, adding her opinion occasionally, the other men listening and treating her with respect. Steffan suspected that was because his father was there and had set the example, giving her deference and valuing her opinions. But it was also due to Katerina’s own spirit, to the fact that she had been the one to discover what had happened to the children, and she had fought for them, fought against Hennek, and won.
With Steffan’s help, of course. Steffan was good at fighting, but discussing business and running a town? He would rather get injured in battle.
“One of the first things we need to do is build up a strong guard,” Father said.
It was on the tip of Steffan’s tongue to say something. He even opened his mouth. But then he closed it as Katerina turned to look at him.
“I agree,” she said.
Steffan could help with that. He was a soldier by training as well as experience. Father had once told him,
when he was frustrated with him for some disobedient act, You could be a leader. You have it in you.
Would Father think of him now? Would he suggest they appoint Steffan as the captain of the guard of Hamlin? Or did he still plan to make Steffan the mayor?
Steffan opened his mouth again, ready to say that he would be pleased to help build up the guard. But again, something stopped him.
“Steffan and I will be traveling back to Hagenheim.”
So Father did not intend to make him the mayor after all.
“But I believe you are capable and fully able to get things back in order here. Hans and Katerina have helped us discover who among the guard were loyal to Hennek, and they have been dismissed. I will leave many of my men here until you can train more guards. We shall depart today.”
Steffan’s stomach sank into his toes. He blew out a pent-up breath.
“Therefore, I wish to appoint a new Bürgermeister whom I believe will serve quite well and will continue to serve for years to come. And I wish to make the announcement in one hour, in the town square.”
Father looked up at Hans, who was standing guard at the back of the room. “Have the guards spread the news through town that there will be an announcement in the square.”
Hans nodded and strode from the room.
Father looked Steffan in the eye. “You will be ready to leave this afternoon?”
He hesitated, but then said, “Yes, Father.”
He turned around to go talk to Katerina—and came face-to-face with her.
“I hope you and your father have a good trip back to Hagenheim. I know your mother and the rest of your family will be very glad to see you after so long an absence.”
“Thank you. I . . . I would like to come back to Hamlin, after I visit my mother. Perhaps I could help the new mayor with the guard. I’ve had a lot of training.”
“Oh yes. I think—”
“We should make our way to the town square,” Father said loudly for the whole room to hear. “I want all of you there.”
They all started moving toward the door. Steffan was careful to stay near Katerina. She was dressed more femininely today than usual. Her hair was flowing down her back with a few tiny braids plaited with purple ribbons. Her dress was a pale lavender, of the kind of fine fabric that a Bürgermeister’s daughter might wear.
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