Heidelberg Effect (33 page)

Long live Krüger the Kind.

Rowan was tied to the cart by his neck and
every limb. He was kneeling and could feel the cool wind on his
face. When he looked up, he could see the beautiful blue November
sky and he thought of all the days he had wasted not looking up.
His knees were bruised and bloodied from the bouncing of the hard
wooden cart along the cobblestone streets. He tried to focus on the
sky. After spending what were probably the last twelve hours of his
life in a dungeon, he decided to relish the feeling of the sun on
his face.

In the distance, he could see the fifteen
foot pyre. It looked like the good people of Heidelberg had thrown
chairs and tables on the stack. The villagers who ran alongside the
cart were jeering and throwing rotten food at him. So stunned had
he been by the whole nightmare, that he only now noticed them. He
watched them out of his one good eye and wondered how in the name
of all that is holy they could believe what they were doing was in
the name of God.

The man driving the little
donkey cart twisted in his seat to look at Rowan, then spoke
briefly to a nearby mounted castle guard. They came to a halt at
the foot of the pyre. Rowan could see a stool jammed into the
middle of it and was surprised.
At least I
don’t have to stand
, he
thought.

One of the guards jumped down and began
vigorously sawing with his knife at the ropes that bound Rowan.
Rowan realized that at the rate he was going, the knife would slice
into his flesh when the rope gave way. As Rowan watched the guard,
wondering at the kind of man who could take such delight at causing
pain, the guard startled him by suddenly looking at him, too. Then
the guard’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and he began
convulsing, dropping his knife in the process. The crowd screamed
and retreated from the donkey cart but Rowan knew what the man’s
seizure had to mean.

Ella!

He twisted in the cart, one hand loose, and
tried to see where she was. He needed to tell her to run, to not
watch this, to get out. What he saw when he turned to look behind
him was a half dozen castle guards on horseback coming up fast to
the marketplace from the castle. He could see their black livery,
the sunlight reflecting off the silver on their caps and bridles.
One man on horseback was very close and had to jerk his horse
roughly away to avoid colliding with the cart. That’s when Rowan
saw her behind the rider in the saddle. She slid to the ground, her
Taser held up and away from her as he’d taught her.

He had hungered to see her beautiful face
after so many hours of worry and anguished regret. But now his
heart pounded with fear at the danger she was in.

They were surrounded by
guards
.

He watched her run and jump in the cart with
him.

And the guards did nothing.

She threw her arms around his neck and
kissed him. “It’s over, Rowan,” she said.

The guards on horseback cleared the crowd of
citizens away from the cart. The man whose horse Ella had jumped
from dismounted and strode purposefully to the cart. He bowed to
them and barked orders to the guards who had been Rowan’s escorts.
The donkey cart driver watched with his mouth open as one of the
guards stepped over the man who had been Tased and quickly cut
Rowan’s bonds.

Rowan looked at the horseman who offered him
his hand out of the cart and then at Ella who still hadn’t let go
of his neck.

“We won?” he said.

“We won, hero,” she said. “We fucking
won.”

Axel was arrested, Krüger was scheduled to
stand trial for the plot against the Prince’s man and for treason
against the state, and Christof was publicly recognized as his only
heir. The very day that Rowan was rescued from the flames, he and
Ella joined Greta at the castle to meet with the new Lord Krüger.
Rowan tried to send away the castle physician but Ella and Greta
both insisted he be seen.

“Can’t we just click our heels together and
go home now?” Rowan said to Ella as he eased himself into a hot
tub, clothes and all while the physician waited outside.

“Rowan, don’t get in with your clothes,”
Ella said, starting to unbutton the rag that covered his upper
body. “A servant brought you clean clothes to put on after you see
the doctor.”

She peeled the shirt from his shoulder and
gasped.

“Is it bad?” he asked. “I didn’t want to
touch it. Is it as bad as I think it is?”

Ella did not reply but just stared at the
angry blistered brand of the letter K on his back. She felt such
anger at what they had done to him, that her hands began to
shake.

“You’re scaring me, babe,” Rowan said. “It
still hurts like shit. What is it?”

“It’s the letter
K
,” Ella said softly.
“Branded into your shoulder.”

“Well, that’s just awesome. One great little
souvenir of my truly wonderful adventure here in 16 fucking 20
Germany.” He saw her face and softened. “Hey, beautiful,” he said.
“It’s not that bad.”

“I can’t believe how you must have
suffered,” she said, her eyes welling with tears. “Oh, Rowan, I was
so scared for you. I couldn’t imagine how I was going to live if
something…if…”

“I know, babe. Me, too. It was a bad few
hours. Why don’t you get in here with me? You could use a bath,
yourself, you know.”

She hesitated, glanced over her shoulder to
the hallway where the physician waited on them, then tugged off her
clothes and climbed into the tub.

He grabbed her hips and pulled her to him.
“I meant to tell you what a great rescue party you made with your
boobs falling outta that top of yours,” he said as he kissed her
neck. “Really gave the good citizens of Heidelberg a thrill.”

“Oh, my God, Rowan, is that what I think it
is?” Her eyes were wide as her hand found his hard-on between his
legs. “Not four hours after you’ve been tortured, beaten up and
nearly burned at the stake?”

“What can I say? It takes me a while to
recover.”

Without another word, she eased onto him and
slipped him inside her. Both of them groaned in unison.

“Let me do all the work,” she said. She
gripped the sides of the tub while her hips moved up and down on
him. Within seconds, she arched her back as the waves of pleasure
radiated from between her legs up through her diaphragm. Somewhere
in the depths of her mind, she realized that the door from the
hallway had opened and then discreetly closed. She climbed higher
and higher, feeling Rowan’s hands on her hips, guiding her, driving
into her, until she heard him yell and they both collapsed against
the side of the tub, weak and spent. After a moment, she looked
into his brilliant blue eyes and sighed. “What a wild ride life is
with you, Rowan,” she said. “What a ride.”

He patted her shoulder, as he closed his
eyes. “Funny,” he said. “I was just going to say the same thing
about you. Now if I could only get a really rare steak, a cold beer
and a very soft bed for the next twenty hours or so, I’ll be
good.”

She kissed his battered face, picked up soap
from the dish and began sudsing his chest and arms.

That night, Greta moved her band of outlaw
nuns into the castle where they were to reside until their convent
was rebuilt. Just before dinner, Ella and Greta walked to the
castle kitchens. Ella found Heike and gave her a big hug.

“You were kind to me,” Ella said to the
startled girl. “I know Herr Krüger will want to reward all who
helped the convent during its time of need.” Ella turned to Greta.
“That goes for Cook, too,” she said, nodding at the woman at the
stove, who was still clutching her wooden spoon and looking from
Ella to Greta with amazement.

“I’ll make sure Christof knows,” Greta
said.

As they walked toward the main hall of the
castle, Greta hooked her arm in Ella’s and slowed her pace. Ella
could not remember a time when her friend looked happier or more
relaxed.

“Sister Therese is alive,” Greta said.

“Oh, my God, that’s great!” Ella said. “She
survived the tower. What a tough old bird.”

“Her head wound should have received medical
attention and she is badly scarred but otherwise she is fine,
praise God. She will be at dinner this evening.”

“And the novice Anna?”

“That is not a happy ending,” Greta
said.

“I’m so sorry, Greta. That poor girl.”

Ella wanted to ask about Hannah but
hesitated. If it was good news, Greta would tell her. If not…

“There are so many good things happening
now,” Greta said. “I think we must rejoice while we can. I think it
is time for joy and thanksgiving. Not tears.”

“Yeah, good philosophy,” Ella said.

“Will Herr Pierce be able to dine with us
tonight?” Greta asked.

“Yeah, he’s good,” Ella said, trying not to
blush. “No lasting damage. Well, except for that big ass K on his
left shoulder.”

“Rejoice, Ella,” Greta said.

“Oh, trust me, Greta. I’m way ahead of
you.”

That night, all the nuns and novices of the
convent sat at the castle’s main dining table with Christof and
Greta at the head. For a moment, especially when she saw how
Christof looked at Greta, Ella wondered if there had once been
something romantic between the two. She quickly dismissed the idea.
Whatever joined Christof and Greta was bigger and more perfect than
an infatuation or mutual attraction. Theirs was a friendship of
respect and shared faith amidst adversity.

When the first course was served, Christof
had everyone’s wine glasses filled. Then he stood up and asked for
silence.

“To the Sisters of Mercy,” he said, lifting
his cup. “And to their allies and supporters.” He waved his free
hand in the direction of Ella and Rowan, who sat beside Greta.
“Heidelberg Castle will always be your home, your refuge, your
servant. As will I.”

Everyone lifted their cups to solemnly
approve Christof’s toast.

Christof set his glass down but remained
standing.

“I promise everyone here,” he said, “that I
will personally make reparations for every crime committed against
Heidelberg’s Catholics. I further vow to reverse and repair all
damages inflicted on the great city of Heidelberg by my father and
my elder brother, both of whom will face the executioner’s blade
before the month is out.”

“Probably should’ve stopped while he was on
an upnote,” Ella whispered to Rowan.

“Personally, I thought the
whole bit about the executioner’s blade
was
an upnote,” Rowan said as he
reached for his wine.

“To Heidelberg and all its citizens!”
Christof said, lifting his wine cup again. This time, the table
broke into cheers. Several of the servants waiting on the table ran
to embrace the Sisters and Ella saw that tears were streaming down
Greta’s beaming face.

Two days later, after they had all become
used to hot food and warm beds and the absence of terror in their
daily round, Christof brought Greta the information she had been so
anxiously hoping to discover.

It wasn’t good.

Ella and Rowan walked in on the two of them
in Hans Krüger’s former office which now belonged to Christof.
Greta was facing Christof. They stood very close but were not
touching, although Ella could see Christof’s hand hovering near as
if he dearly wanted to. Rowan was at Greta’s side in a flash and
without hesitation pulled her into his embrace.

“What is it, Greta?” he said.

“It’s Hannah,” Christof said.

Ella tugged on his sleeve. “You’ve found
her?”

“She is lost,” Greta said through her tears.
“She is lost forever.” Rowan held her close as she sobbed against
his shoulder.

Ella could see that Christof had been
weeping too.

“Dead?” Ella whispered.

“No, but as good as,” Christof said. “She
was sent to Arabia.” He spoke in a low voice as if to spare Greta
the pain of hearing it again.

“Where in Arabia?” Ella asked.

Rowan murmured gentle words
to Greta as he held her close. He looked at Ella over Greta’s
shoulder and his expression said,
Don’t
even think about it.

The day they chose to leave came soon after
the nuns had settled into the castle. Rowan was anxious to get back
to his world. His two week vacation had come and gone and he was
hoping he still had a job. Ella knew it was time to face whatever
was waiting for her back in 2012.

Their last evening together, Greta, Rowan
and Ella dined alone.

Rowan wore a velvet doublet of the time but
he had drawn the line at the hose and wore workman’s trousers.
Greta diplomatically told him he looked original. Ella told him
they needed to leave before they torched him for his fashion sense.
Ella wore a gown, the first time she had worn period clothing that
was not a nun’s habit or a pauper boy’s clothes. Also velvet, it
was cut tight at the waist with a neckline so low her breasts
popped out frequently as she ate.

“What a pain,” she said, tucking herself
back into her dress for the hundredth time. “And this doesn’t drive
the women crazy having to do this all the time?” she said to
Greta.

“I can vouch for the men, if that helps,”
Rowan said with a grin.

She laughed and looked at him. Even in just
a couple of days, his bruises had turned from purple to yellow, his
eye was open again and his ribs were less sore. When she looked at
him, her heart felt like it was filling her up with such love that
sometimes she didn’t think she could bear a second more of what he
gave to her.

Now if it could just last once they got back
home…

She turned to Greta who was dressed in a
habit that fit her for the first time since Ella had known her.