The Wandering Harlot (The Marie Series) (15 page)

Lady Mechthild ordered Marie to take a seat. Then she took two cups from the little closet, filled them with wine from a clay pitcher, and sat so that her face was in the shadows while Marie sat in the light of the slowly setting winter sun.

“Speak now. But I warn you! If I feel you are lying, I’ll make quick work of you.”

Looking down at her hands, Marie tried to swallow the lump in her throat. Overwhelmed more by memories than the lady’s threats, she spoke haltingly at first. But as Mechthild quietly listened and didn’t interrupt, Marie’s confidence increased, her words tumbling out faster and faster. She held nothing back, not even her plans to murder the counselor.

As she was about to relay her experiences on the road, Mechthild raised her hand and changed the topic back to Rupert. She had Marie repeat everything she knew. Finally the lady stood up and put her hand on her back as if to keep from collapsing with the weight of all her duties. “If what you say is true, our enemy is even more dangerous than we had assumed.”

“I swear by all the saints that I have spoken the truth,” Marie said calmly, despite the emotions raging within her.

“For your sake, I hope so. I will send a trusted man to Constance who will ask around. Until he is back, you will not leave the castle.” Lady Mechthild rose and opened the door, then closed it again and put her hands on Marie’s shoulders. “If your report is true, Counselor Rupert’s treatment of you is more than shameful.”

Marie pictured herself again in the dungeon, and sobbed. “He wasn’t the only one.”

“Pull yourself together!” Lady Mechthild didn’t give Marie time to wallow in misery, but instead ordered her back to her room to prepare herself for the lord. When Dietmar returned from his walk still out of sorts, he felt little desire to sleep with Marie, but he was helpless against the will of his wife.

VII.

Mechthild von Arnstein took Marie’s report so seriously that she sent her trustworthy castellan to Constance. The heavy snow had let up over the past several weeks, but now cold gripped the land and icy winds swept over the hills. Despite the freezing weather, Marie walked around the battlements every day and climbed the tower to watch for Giso’s return. She was thankful that Mechthild had not imprisoned her, but even with this daily routine, she was barely able to contain her mounting tension.

Trying to distract her friend, Hiltrud took Marie along to the goat stables. Thomas showed her his animals, introducing them by name and telling her funny stories. For a few days Marie enjoyed her visits, as Thomas was very entertaining, but she soon felt like she was intruding. She could see that these two very different people had forged a bond of affection that went far beyond ordinary friendship, but when she suggested that Hiltrud ask Lady Mechthild if she could stay at the castle, Hiltrud vigorously shook her head.

“No, that wouldn’t work out, even though we both care very much for each other. Thomas is a vassal and can’t lift a finger without asking his master’s permission, and people would always make me feel shameful. We’re just enjoying this time together from which we’ll always have beautiful memories. That’s all we can hope for.”

“That’s a shame. Your Thomas is a good man and would be a caring companion.” When Marie saw the tears in Hiltrud’s eyes, she could tell how hard this was for her friend, and she resolved not to bring up the subject again. After that, she only occasionally accompanied Hiltrud to see the goats. Lady Mechthild’s pregnancy kept her busy, and she also spent time on the castle walkway or in the sewing room.

In the weeks before Christmas, it began to snow hard, and for a while it looked like the castle might be completely cut off from the outside world. Finally, during a raging snowstorm, Giso returned. Lady Mechthild, who was now very large with child and had difficulty moving, nevertheless hurried down to the courtyard to greet him. Marie followed close behind with a cup of hot mulled wine and was pleased that the lady was awaiting Giso’s report as eagerly as she was.

The castellan took the wine Marie offered and gulped it down without so much as a glance. Knocking the snow from his coat, he threw it to a servant in the hall and rubbed his freezing hands. “This is no weather for traveling, my lady, but I think my trip was worthwhile. I apologize for making you wait and wonder for so long, but I had to stay for the results of some important inquiries in Constance, or I would have been here before the snowfall.”

Lady Mechthild looked at him with some annoyance. “Was it so difficult to learn something about Marie?”

Giso demurred. “Certainly not. After three days, I knew everything there was to know about her. But there is news, my lady, that will interest you and your husband more than the fate of this woman. Kaiser Sigismund will be coming to Constance and staying there for three or four months. That gives you ample time to travel there and present your dispute concerning Sir Otmar’s testament.”

“That’s the best news I’ve heard in a long time.” Breathing a sigh of relief, Lady Mechthild momentarily folded her hands in prayer. The kaiser resided in Prague most of the time, but often traveled to his various other estates in the Reich. In order to present his case, Sir Dietmar would have had to search for him, taking along a large retinue for protection. Doing so would have deprived the castle of many battle-ready men and given the Keilburgs the opportunity to storm the fortress in a surprise coup.

Giso nodded and smiled encouragingly. “The kaiser plans to hold a council in Constance that will sweep through Christianity like a storm and remove all the filth, especially the three unworthy popes.”

“A council, you say, in Constance?” This news surprised Lady Mechthild so much that she forgot why she’d sent Giso there. She asked him for details of everything he’d learned and then paced back and forth in the hallway, mulling it all over. Marie couldn’t curb her impatience and finally dared to address Giso.

“Did you learn anything about my father?”

His face darkened. “Your fate created a great stir in Constance. Everyone I asked had something to say. In retrospect, some people feel appalled at how you were treated. A handful of city council members protested to the kaiser’s governor about the speedy sentence in the Dominican court since your case should rightly have been heard by the city council. But no judicial steps were taken because your father disappeared the day you were driven from the city. Various rumors were circulating, but finally, after I bribed a drunken sheepshearer named Anselm with two cups of wine, he told me a story that sounds the most likely. A few days after you were expelled, he said he’d helped a gravedigger bury a corpse in potter’s field. When they threw the body into the hole, the blanket covering the dead man slipped, and the sheepshearer recognized him. Anselm swore to me by all the saints that it was your father, Matthis Schärer.”

That wasn’t unexpected. Marie lowered her head, waiting for tears to come, but her eyes remained dry. She listened almost indifferently as Giso told Lady Mechthild about Marie’s unusually short trial and her immediate sentencing. He also told of how Rupert had all of her father’s property, which the bishop’s court awarded to him. The counselor also won several trials against her uncle Mombert who had protested the shameless confiscation of the property.

“The whole matter seems to me like a wicked trick of Keilburg’s illegitimate brother,” Giso said in conclusion. His face turned so dark that he appeared to want nothing more than to personally throttle the counselor.

Lady Mechthild patted Marie gently on the head. “I am indebted to you, girl, because I now understand the counselor’s true deviousness, and I am certain we can soon present our case to the kaiser. My deepest sympathy on the death of your father. Even though the fiendish counselor did not personally lay a hand on him, he’s responsible for his death.”

Marie thanked her in a few polite words, but her thoughts flew back to that day nearly four years ago when she had first been accused. It suddenly became clear that she would never see her father again. Now she could seek to silently beg him for forgiveness because she thought he had abandoned her. Nevertheless, any tears she might have felt were staunched by her deep hatred for everyone who had anything to do with his death along with those who had left her abandoned and miserable.

“Rupert is now living in my father’s house, putting on airs and acting like a nobleman,” she said bitterly.

Giso nodded sympathetically. “Alas, that’s so! He has become a respected citizen of Constance and enjoys the favor of the new bishop. It is said he will also play an important role in council preparations.”

Lady Mechthild threw her head back. “Then maybe things don’t look as favorable for us there as I had thought. If he stands in such high favor, he might be able to convince the kaiser to recognize the new will that Count Konrad von Keilburg presents. I wish we could speak with my husband’s uncle. Though Sir Otmar intended to enter the monastery at Saint Ottilien, he never arrived there and left no trace of his whereabouts.”

“It’s possible Count Konrad had him killed,” Giso growled.

Lady Mechthild crossed herself. “God forbid. I fear I may have made a mistake in keeping my husband from forming an alliance with the Keilburgs.”

Giso looked disgusted. “Getting involved with scoundrels such as Count Konrad and Counselor Rupert would be a sin before God.”

“I can only hope my husband sees things that way,” Lady Mechthild responded with a touch of anxiety.

Marie reached out for Mechthild’s hand and was happy the lady didn’t draw back. “Sir Dietmar loves you very much and would never say anything bad about you, especially not just before your child comes.”

“Now I really hope it’s a boy, or my husband will be bitterly disappointed.” She sighed and asked Marie and Giso to excuse her.

Marie watched anxiously as Lady Mechthild, deeply discouraged, struggled with ponderous steps out of the hall. After the doors had closed behind her, Marie turned to Giso again, who was just finishing his third cup of mulled wine. “Did you learn anything about the others I told you about? What happened to our housekeeper, Wina, for example, or the two servant girls, Elsa and Anne?”

“The old woman Wina is now working for your uncle Mombert. The maids have likewise found other work, one in Constance and the other in Meersburg. None of the servants in Rupert’s house are from your time there.”

“What became of Linhard Merk, the secretary?” Marie spat out the name as if something disgusting had gotten stuck in her teeth.

“Linhard now calls himself Brother Josephus. He entered the Scottish monastery in Constance a few months after you were driven out of town.”

Marie laughed bitterly. “A murderer and rapist wearing a monk’s robe? The good citizens trust such a man and think they will get to heaven faster with his help? What about his two accomplices?”

Rubbing his nose with his finger, Giso thought for a moment. “Hunold is still one of the city bailiffs, and Utz enjoys the confidence of business people in Constance, traveling the world as a leader of wagon trains.”

“The two didn’t make much from their vile deeds. I would have expected Rupert to richly reward at least Utz. What happened to the widow Euphemia?”

“Her betrayal of you did even less for her, as she was found dead in bed only three months after your trial. The strange thing is that she was healthy, and shortly beforehand had boasted around town that she would soon be very rich.”

“Perhaps she was going to blackmail Rupert, so he or one of his cronies killed her.” That gave Marie little satisfaction. She could only assume Euphemia had received her just punishment and hoped the woman was suffering all the torments of hell that the church reserved for perjurers.

She also asked Giso about her relatives, but all he knew was that Mombert and his family were in mourning because the son they had long yearned for had died shortly after birth. Marie suddenly thought of Michel, but she hadn’t asked Giso to make inquiries about him, so she thanked Giso and promised to tell Hiltrud he had returned.

VIII.

Giso had only just returned before a whole series of events took place that kept the residents of the castle holding their breaths. The sun was standing high in the sky when a tower lookout announced the sighting of a man on horseback who was driving his horse at a full gallop up toward the castle despite the icy road. The horse slipped several times, but instead of dismounting and leading it by the reins, the rider whipped the poor animal and spurred it on.

Opening the castle gate and approaching the man, Giso intended to reprimand him for the mistreatment of his mount. But before Giso could say anything, the horseman fell from his saddle, and the castellan was only just able to catch him. Ice crystals were stuck to his eyebrows, and he was trembling so violently, he could barely speak.

“I must see Sir Dietmar. It’s of the utmost importance.”

“It’s Philipp von Steinzell!” shouted one of the guards at the gate.

Only now did Giso recognize the squire, and he wondered what new misfortune Philipp was there to announce. Seizing the unexpected guest under his arms, he dragged him toward the living quarters. Remembering the horse, he turned around to see the exhausted mount standing under the entryway, trembling, with lacerated shanks and bleeding sides. Calling to the guard, he issued a brief order.

“Take the nag to the stable and call the goatherd. Tell him to make herbal compresses for the animal and nurse it back to health.”

In spite of the man’s considerable weight, Giso carried the young Steinzell into the great hall, giving him some of the same mulled wine that had revived his own spirits just a few hours earlier. Giso then listened in horror to the bad news that Philipp had brought.

“Rumold von Bürggen betrayed us!” Giso cried out to Sir Dietmar as the knight strode into the hall with the lady. “He made a pact with the Keilburgs, and in return was given Steinwald Forest as well as Felde Castle and part of the surrounding land.”

Turning red with anger, Dietmar stood there as if struck by lightning. “What are you saying? That would be a betrayal! No, I can’t believe that.”

Philipp von Steinzell nodded grimly. “Unfortunately, it’s the truth. My father sent me as soon as he heard the news. I’m to tell you that there is only one way out for us, the way my father has always suggested. We must offer ourselves as vassals to Duke Friedrich immediately and pledge our allegiance. Since the duke has reached an agreement with the Keilburgs, Count Konrad will not attack us anymore.”

While Sir Dietmar was trying to regain his composure, Lady Mechthild questioned the young Steinzell further. His report left no doubt: the alliance of the four castle lords had fallen apart even before it had gone into effect. From now on, Rumold von Bürggen would be added to the list of Arnstein’s enemies. Philipp confirmed several times that his father would enter into an alliance with Friedrich von Habsburg and pleaded with Sir Dietmar to do the same.

Now that she was allowed to stay in the great hall with the family instead of being forced to eavesdrop from the top of the stairway, Marie saw how Sir Dietmar was tormented and in despair. Rumold von Bürggen’s property sliced deeply into Dietmar’s land like a wedge separating Arnstein Castle and his two remaining allied neighbors. Rumold’s betrayal seemed to seal Dietmar’s fate, since his land would now be surrounded on three sides by that of the thieving Keilburgs.

As soon as the Steinzell squire had finished his report, Sir Dietmar began angrily shouting. “If I had known what a traitor Rumold was, I would have taken Count Konrad’s offer myself, and today we’d be much better off.”

Shaking her head, Lady Mechthild said something that sounded like “Don’t trust him.” But her words were lost in her sudden groaning and wheezing as her face contorted with pain and she placed both hands on her stomach. “It hurts so much,” she whispered through tears. A moment later, her screams echoed throughout the great hall, brushing aside all other concerns.

Guda immediately came running to help, leading the lady up the stairway to her bedroom. “The child is coming. Pray that everything goes well!” she called back to Sir Dietmar while hurriedly yelling out instructions to the remaining servants.

The great hall emptied out so quickly that soon only Marie remained behind with the young Steinzell. As Marie was wondering whether to offer Guda her help, Philipp held out the empty wine pitcher.

“Bring me another cup of your mulled wine, girl. I could use another drink.” Marie ran to the kitchen, poured a fresh pitcher from the pot that was kept warm over the fireplace, and quickly returned to fill the young nobleman’s cup. Her thoughts were with Lady Mechthild, and she didn’t notice the young man’s eyes lighting up when he saw her. Paying no attention to the wine, he pulled Marie down and forced his right knee between her legs.

“I’ve had my eye on you since my last visit to Arnstein, but I haven’t been able to approach you because Lady Mechthild has always had her people watching me. But now she’s busy and can’t keep me away from you. So don’t make a fuss, or I’ll take you by force.”

Marie could see he was serious and tried to call for help, but he pressed his gloved hand to her mouth. Though she struggled and fought to escape, he dragged her to a corridor at the other end of the great hall and pushed her into the room used for guests’ luggage. In the room were several chests large enough to serve as makeshift beds. Surrounded by thick walls, it was so far away from the residences that no one would hear her screams. Now Marie realized why one of the younger maids had been so careful to stay out of Philipp’s way during his last visit. In despair, she remembered what Hiltrud had taught her and resolved not to resist in order to avoid serious injury.

At that moment a key turned in the lock and the bolt slid aside.

“Who the hell . . .” The squire cursed, sat up, and saw Jodokus standing before him. His voice completely calm, the monk seemed uninterested in the goings-on, but instead stated his errand. “Marie, the lady wishes to see you.”

“You damned monk, can’t you see we’re busy? Get out!” Philipp added an obscene curse, and pinned Marie to the ground. Jodokus quickly grabbed him and pulled him off. Despite his gaunt frame, the monk had astonishing strength.

“You’ve lost control of yourself, Herr Philipp. As a guest, it’s unseemly to seize the lord’s property.”

“Leave me alone, monk! This woman has already been violated by so many fellows that one more doesn’t matter.”

The monk didn’t retreat. “The lady of the castle wants Marie to be the lord’s companion, and his alone.”

Jodokus’s severe tone left no doubt that he would report Philipp if he didn’t take his hands off Marie.

Philipp von Steinzell looked as if he wanted to strike the meddlesome monk, but he had come here to convince Dietmar von Arnstein to become a vassal of Friedrich von Habsburg, and if he didn’t achieve that goal, he would garner his father’s wrath. Thus, he reluctantly backed off, hissing at Marie.

“You’ll see me again, whore. Once Sir Dietmar tires of you, I’ll ask him to send you to me.”

“Your mouth will run dry waiting for that day. I am neither Sir Dietmar’s vassal nor yours.” Marie smoothed out her dress and ran past him through the door. Following her, Jodokus gripped her arm tightly.

“I hope you won’t forget I saved you from this fool,” he whispered hoarsely in her ear.

Marie nodded silently. Jodokus was one of those especially stubborn people who would wait until Lady Mechthild released her from service and then demand his reward. Just the same, she was thankful to Jodokus. She preferred to give herself to a man as a prostitute rather than to be taken by force, and she tried to smile gratefully at him. “Did the lady really call for me?”

“Yes, she wants you to calm down her husband and keep him out of the maids’ way.” Jodokus’s jealous tone made Marie shudder, and for the first time she longed for the day she could leave Arnstein Castle. For the time being, however, she was happy to run to Lady Mechthild’s room and didn’t see the monk grinning maliciously as he waited for Squire Philipp. The man soon appeared, looking around for a maid who might cool his passions. But all he found was Brother Jodokus.

“The sky has cleared, and it will be a bright, moonlit night. If you hurry, you’ll get home today. You can’t stay here in Arnstein, as the servants have no time to care for guests. Send my greetings to your father and tell him I’ll try to convince Sir Dietmar to join Duke Friedrich.”

Philipp angrily rejected this idea. “I will wait here until your lord has committed to the alliance with Duke Friedrich.”

The monk smiled softly. “As long as his wife is in labor, Dietmar will be thinking of nothing but her and the child. When he is ready to speak with you depends on how the birth goes. Do you wish to keep your father in the dark for that long?”

Philipp didn’t want to do that and mumbled his assent. The monk helped him into his overcoat, handing him his gloves while calling for a stable hand to saddle a fresh horse. Accompanying Philipp to the outer gate, the monk watched as the squire vanished into the growing darkness. Then he returned to the great hall.

At the bottom of the staircase Jodokus stopped and listened for any sounds coming from the lady’s bedroom. Everyone was attending to Lady Mechthild, and even the lord wouldn’t be thinking of anyone else, and least of all taking advantage of Marie’s charms. The monk jealously imagined bedding the young woman. He dreamed of her all night, and during the day, he was almost consumed by desire. It was only because of her that he was still at the castle, since he had long ago carried out his mission. Now, it was time for him to mysteriously disappear.

If he wanted to succeed, he’d have to strike in the next few hours, and he knew that there would never be a second chance. But if he went away, he’d run the risk of never seeing Marie again. The thought weakened his resolve, but he then slapped his forehead. If he didn’t act now, his dreams of wealth would be gone forever. He knew he was destined to find the young prostitute again, and the day would come when she would belong completely and only to him.

The monk silently climbed the stairs to the upper floor, darting like a shadow down the corridor and stopping for only a minute in front of Lady Mechthild’s door to listen to her screams and the maids’ nervous voices. It didn’t sound good. The knight would likely lose his wife as well as his still-unborn child.

Jodokus almost said a brief prayer, but reminded himself that the lady’s fate was of no concern to him, and hastened on. Moments later, he reached the door to the room where Sir Dietmar kept his most precious things. Only four people had the key to this oaken, double-hinged door—the lord of the castle, the lady, Castellan Giso, and Brother Jodokus as the knight and his lady’s scribe and confidant.

Sliding the key out from under his robe, the monk inserted it into the lock just as a maid came running out of Lady Mechthild’s bedroom, hair flying, and rushed past him. Though she ignored him, Jodokus was startled to the core, and he pressed himself against the wooden door, waiting until the maid had disappeared down the hallway. Finally opening the door with trembling hands, he slipped inside. Not wanting to attract attention, he closed the door behind him, then leaned against the wood for a moment, breathing deeply. He next walked over to a chest with silver fittings and three locks standing in a niche off to one side. Initially Jodokus had had only one of the three keys, but it hadn’t been difficult for him to borrow the other two for long enough to make their wax impressions. On a trip to Saint Ottilien’s monastery, he had met an accomplice who gave him perfect copies of the other keys before he headed back.

Opening the locks, he raised the lid carefully, taking care not to let the unoiled hinges squeak. With an experienced hand, he quickly found the leather binding containing Sir Otmar’s testament and removed it from the chest. He unfastened its silver clasp and spread out the leather in front of him. Taking a little glass bottle from a pouch hanging on his belt, he removed the stopper and carefully poured the bottle’s contents over the testament. Closing the binder, he secured the clasp so it wouldn’t fall apart, and placed it back in the chest.

His hands were trembling so much that he was barely able to close the three locks again. If anyone discovered what he’d done, it would be all over for him. After listening for sounds in the hallway, he stepped out of the room, quickly closing and locking the door behind him. Shortly thereafter he left Arnstein Castle by a side door and strode off at a quick pace in order to reach Felde Castle as soon as possible.