Iny Lorentz - The Marie Series 02 (23 page)

6.

Marie had watched over the injured girl for half the night, and when she had finally drifted to sleep, she kept waking with a start from terrible nightmares in which the dead all had Michel’s face. When she got up, tired and sore, she saw that her foundling was awake. Large green eyes were staring at her anxiously from a narrow face with high cheekbones. The girl’s hands were cramped and her lips were trembling.

Smiling at her encouragingly, Marie poured several drops of poppy seed juice into a cup of water. “Here, drink. It will ease your pain.”

She brought the cup to the girl’s lips and talked to her calmly until she swallowed the drink. After the sedative took effect a short while later, the girl’s eyes closed, and her breathing deepened into sleep. Just then, Trudi made her presence known after having slept like an angel all night.

While Marie fed her daughter, Eva climbed onto her wagon, groaning, and looked inside. “Well, Marie, are you sorry that you took in this poor girl? If she dies, you’ll have to bury her, and don’t think that I’m going to help you.”

Hiltrud had heard similar comments a long time ago, Marie thought, and she glared hotly at Eva. “If it comes to that, I’ll do more for her than we did for her family and friends.”

The old merchant woman shrugged. “The kaiser has forbidden it. You have to get used to things like that; otherwise you won’t survive the Bohemian campaigns. Now come and have some breakfast. Something’s going on in the camp, and you should eat while you still can.”

“All I know is that it has something to do with the Flemish soldiers. Theres was going to have a look earlier, but a bailiff chased her away.” Eva stepped aside so Marie could get down from the wagon and quickly grabbed hold of Trudi, who was climbing after her mother and almost fell between the wheel and the box. Marie thanked her and left the child in Eva’s arms, as Donata handed her a bowl of porridge and a jug of beer.

While Marie ate, her eyes wandered over the camp. The area around the kaiser’s tent was swarming with men, but despite the clamor, she could clearly hear the ringing voice of Urs Sprüngli, leader of a group of foot soldiers, cursing in his Swiss Appenzell dialect.

Sitting down next to Marie, Eva pointed at the Swiss soldier, shaking her head. “Something serious must have happened, and I don’t like it. Look, there’s Sir Heinrich. Maybe he can tell us what happened.” Calling out, she stood up and waved vigorously to the knight.

Heinrich von Hettenheim glanced over at her, then slowly approached Marie’s wagon. His face was gray with worry. “The Flemish soldiers vanished into the forest last night.”

“What we saw yesterday was probably too much for them,” Eva sneered, even though she didn’t feel like laughing.

“Last night, as has happened so often in the past few weeks, they sent a delegate to the kaiser to demand their outstanding payment. When he again refused to pay them, the negotiators became so insolent that Sigismund ordered them tied to the stake and whipped, then pardoned them, making the same halfhearted promises as before, instead of at least pretending to reassure them. Still, no one expected the whole group to desert.” Sir Heinrich pounded the wagon wheel with his fist. “This campaign is
ill-starred
, and it’s not because the enemy is successful; it’s because of the kaiser’s indecision. Sigismund dreams of subduing the rebels, but he’s so scared of the Hussites, he doesn’t dare challenge them to a decisive battle. Instead, he travels around aimlessly, exposing large parts of the Reich to devastation.”

Marie felt her stomach churning with fear. “What will happen now?”

“The kaiser believes that while it is unfortunate the Flemish have deserted, there are still enough knights and foot soldiers to continue the march. But I’m afraid he’s wrong. The example set by the Flemish soldiers will catch on.”

Eva cast a sideways glance at him. “You think more soldiers will secretly disappear?”

“I wouldn’t bet against it. But now I really need to check on my own people, in case they get the idea of heading off, too.” The knight waved briefly at the women and hurried away.

Her eyes following him, Marie sighed. “I hope he’s wrong.”

“You can hope, but don’t be surprised at anything. It looks like the provost marshal’s men are gathering the soldiers for the march. I’ll go back to my wagon and get ready.” Eva climbed down from Marie’s wagon and shuffled over to hers.

Marie looked at her own team of oxen and saw that they had neither been fed nor watered. “Michi, where are you?” she shouted, but there was no sign of the boy. She swore she’d give him a good lecture when he returned, and told Trudi to stay in the wagon while she did the work herself. Long before she was finished, a bailiff came over and harshly ordered her to hitch up and take her place in the train. Marie took the feed away from the oxen despite their grumbles of disapproval, and prepared the harness as the bailiff returned, banging his stick against one of the wheels and snarling. “Hurry up, you stupid woman!”

“I’d be faster if you’d lend a hand,” Marie hissed back. She quickly attached the towing ropes to the wagon, grabbed the reins, and climbed up on the box. “I’m ready.”

But the bailiff had already moved on. Marie dangled the whip above the oxen’s ears. The animals started to move, but they soon had to stop again because the train had come to a halt, and it continued that way for the rest of the day. Marie was grateful for the breaks, because they gave her a chance to look after her injured foundling. The girl woke up again in the afternoon, drank some water, and chewed on the piece of bread Marie gave her while staring silently at her rescuer.

Stroking the girl’s forehead, Marie smiled gently. “I am Marie, and who are you?”

The girl opened her mouth and tried to say something, but nothing came out. She helplessly lifted her hand and felt for her throat.

Marie leaned over her with concern, wondering whether a brew of sage and buckhorn would help the girl, but the bailiff banged on the wagon and shouted that they were moving again.

“I have to get back in the driver’s box,” Marie explained to her foundling, and climbed back onto her seat. Before prodding the oxen, she stuck her head inside once more and asked Trudi to give the girl some water. Trudi dragged the leather flask to the girl and tried to hold it to her mouth, but it was too heavy for her, so the girl took it from Trudi before it could fall onto her face. Marie breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing that the injured girl could help herself, since the train was stopping and starting in such short intervals that it became impossible for Marie to leave her seat.

7.

The next morning, Sir Heinrich brought news that a group of Frankish foot soldiers had also deserted overnight. Steaming with anger, the kaiser had sent a few knights to catch the men, ordering his troops to stay at this campsite for the day. Time crept by slowly while the men became increasingly restless, and the sutler women exchanged worried looks. The forced inactivity increased the danger of the army’s breaking apart, and, by evening, fear had taken hold of the knights as well, as their comrades hadn’t returned. The next morning, several dozen more soldiers had disappeared, among them a few from the kaiser’s own entourage, and Sigismund’s furious screams could be heard all over the camp.

Eva went to get Donata to collect wood for the fire and found her friend lying with her throat cut among her ransacked and plundered chests. Sobbing, she called out, “Donata is dead! Murdered and robbed by our own soldiers. Oh God, what an end for the poor soul!”

Oda started to scream. “I’m hitching up and leaving! I won’t stay here another minute!”

Theres laughed harshly. “Do you really think you’d make it? If the Bohemians don’t catch you, our own deserters will, and I’m afraid they won’t kill you any less brutally.”

Putting Trudi inside the wagon and telling her to stay with the sick girl, Marie stared at Donata’s wagon and shuddered. “We have to report the murder to the provost marshal and ask Sir Heinrich to give us guards, or the next deserters might treat us the same.”

“Marie is right,” Eva agreed. “Come, we’ll go see Pauer right away.” She pulled her scarf tighter around her shoulders even though the sun was already warming the land, and stomped off. Marie and the others followed her, but when they got to the provost marshal, Pauer only listened halfheartedly. He had problems to deal with other than a murdered sutler, and when Eva mentioned Heinrich’s name, he seemed relieved.

“Yes, talk to him and tell him I’d like him to assign guards to you.” Then he turned and hurried away.

Eva uttered an obscenity under her breath and grabbed Marie by the sleeve. “Let’s hope Sir Heinrich is more helpful, or we’ll have to keep watch ourselves.”

Marie shrugged. “That would probably be for the best.”

“I’d prefer a strong man with a pike in his hand who wouldn’t be taken by surprise.” Eva saw Heinrich’s squire, Anselm, walking past and shouted after him. “Hey, lad! Where can we find your master?”

Anselm reluctantly stopped, shuffling his feet with impatience. “With our people, but I doubt he’ll have time for you, because all hell has broken loose in the camp.”

“Donata was murdered last night and all of her money stolen,” Eva told him.

“Donata is dead? The devil take the bastards who did this!”

Marie flared up. “Curses won’t help us when the next group of soldiers disappears, cutting out throats along the way. We need men to keep guard!”

Wincing at her sharp tone of voice, Anselm then nodded eagerly. “Don’t worry, nothing will happen to you, even if Görch and I have to stay up every night. I’ll tell my master and bring you his answer. Does lunchtime suit you?”

“Ah yes, that would suit you just fine, wouldn’t it, as then you’ll be able to help yourself from our soup kettle. But it’s all right. We’ve got enough for everyone. So we’ll see you later.” With a relieved nod at Anselm, Eva looked expectantly at her companions. “Come on, let’s go back and sort out Donata’s things, or Oda will pick out the best for herself.”

Marie was shocked. “We’re dividing Donata’s things among ourselves?”

“What else? Do you want to wait until other people have cleared out her wagon?”

“But she must have relatives or heirs.”

Eva cackled. “If she had children or a husband, we’d put some of the money we make from her goods aside for them. But since Donata never mentioned any relatives, her only heirs are the other itinerant merchants. That’s the custom, child.” Marie had no further objections, and when they found Oda cleaning out Donata’s wagon, she silently had to admit Eva was right.

“Couldn’t you wait until we’d given Donata a Christian burial?” she barked at the greedy woman.

Oda pointed off to the side, where a handful of soldiers was digging a grave. “I’ve offered them a ham and a cup of wine each to bury Donata. Now enough talking. Let me get on with this.” Despite her big belly, she nimbly climbed back into the wagon and continued to rummage about. Marie didn’t want to go through her things, so she walked over to the grave, which was just deep enough so the wolves wouldn’t get to the body. She said a prayer for Donata, who had been a good comrade to her over the previous few months, even if they had never really become close.

Having learned to climb down from the wagon herself by now, Trudi toddled anxiously toward her mother, clinging to her and watching as the soldiers threw the last bit of dirt onto the grave and trampled it down with their boots. She didn’t understand what had happened, but when Marie folded her hands, the little girl did the same. A short while later, Eva and Theres joined them to say
good-bye
to Donata; only Oda didn’t show up.

After a brief and clumsy prayer, Eva placed her hand on Marie’s shoulder. “We took your share to your wagon. There’s nothing really valuable, just fabric, blankets, and clothes you can use for your foundling. You’ll have to take in Donata’s clothes for the girl, since they’re far too big.”

Having trouble thanking her but not wanting to appear ungrateful, Marie agreed. “It was nice of you to think of Anni.”

“Ah, Anni’s her name! Does that mean she’s talking?”

“No, not yet. I wanted to call her by a name, so last night I recited names to her until she nodded. I should go and check on her now.” Marie picked Trudi up and headed back to her wagon, where she found the injured girl appearing surprisingly lively. Her fever had dropped, and she was chewing on a piece of dried bread. Marie returned her shy gaze with a smile, poured her a cup of water from her canteen, and changed her dressings.

“Your wounds are healing well,” she said with satisfaction. “You’ll be able to leave the wagon soon. As long as we’re camping here, I’ll set up a canvas so you can lie down in the grass, and once we start moving again, you should sit next to me in the front. Air and light are just as important for a sick person as the right medicine.”

Anni waved her hands in the air, gesturing how much she wanted to go outside. Marie laughed softly. “Not so fast, my child. Wait at least until I’ve altered one of Donata’s dresses for you. You can’t run around unclothed.” She fetched her share of Donata’s inheritance from where Eva had left it just outside, and chose a dress that would be easy to take in. Then she sat down on the box, ripping the dress apart at the seams and sewing it back together.

When Görch turned up at lunchtime, Marie asked him to help her lift Anni from the wagon onto a soft bed of dried leaves. The squire was glad to help and reported that his friend Anselm had passed the sutlers’ plea on to Sir Heinrich.

“Sir Heinrich, Anselm, my master, and I will take turns standing guard for you,” he added. Gratefully, Marie cut an extra piece of ham for him as thick as her thumb. Görch ate it eagerly before packing the four clay pots Eva had filled with lunch for the two knights and their squires into a basket and carrying it to the other men.

Marie was convinced the troops would continue their march the next morning at the latest, but the kaiser, still waiting for the return of the knights he had sent out, stayed in his beribboned tent, bemoaning his fate and unsure what to do. The events of the past few days seemed to have robbed him of his powers of military leadership, as he neither ordered the men to march on, nor to retreat.

In the end, however, Marie was grateful for the break, because resting would heal Anni’s injuries faster than traveling along bumpy roads. Indeed, the girl recovered faster than expected and soon didn’t want to remain helplessly lying around. Görch, who kept returning to Marie to earn a cup of wine, led Anni around a few steps at a time and eventually made her a crutch so she was able to hobble short distances despite her injured leg. As Anni started to show joy in living again, Marie realized that evidently her experience had not only taken her speech, but also her memories of the massacre.

That night, after another strange dream, Marie lay awake, wondering whether Michel might have suffered a similar fate. Was it possible he was drifting around as a beggar, mute and without his memory? If that was the case, she could only hope she’d find him soon.

The next few days could have been restful if their situation wasn’t becoming increasingly dire. Heinrich and the other knights cursed because they were condemned to idleness while camp conditions got worse. Every day, the kaiser’s confessor preached the virtue of patience during the long sermons Sigismund had ordered, but it became harder and harder to remember the lessons even for those with the best of intentions in light of the growing amount of filth and foul water in the camp, combined with the desertion of ever more soldiers every night. Some of the Frankish and Swabian knights talked about leaving the troops and returning home, secretly at first, then openly, and the knights loyal to the kaiser urged him to decide their next move. But to their horror, Sigismund simply clung to the dignity of his office like a stubborn child, whining about the absence of the powerful lords of the Reich. As a result, the knights of the Reich, who had always been proud of calling the kaiser their master, now wished they instead had an energetic leader who could grab the reins and lead them to victory despite all their difficulties.

There was a glimmer of hope on the afternoon of the sixth day, when the guards announced the approach of a large group of men on horseback riding under the imperial pennant. It wasn’t reinforcements, however, but Falko von Hettenheim’s group, joined by a few of the knights the kaiser had sent out. The men were exhausted and most of them also badly injured, posing a burden for the weeks ahead rather than a blessing, yet they were the lucky ones, as more than a third of Falko’s men had died in the dark Bohemian Forest.

Falko halted his men near the sutlers’ wagons, staring over at Marie with burning eyes. Then he abruptly swung himself out of the saddle and threw his reins to a servant who had come running. “Walk the horse back and forth a few times and give it a good rub,” he ordered the man as he stomped off toward the kaiser’s imposing tent. Sigismund was waiting for him at the tent’s entrance.

“You’re finally back, Sir Falko. Just look what a terrible situation you’ve put me in!”

Falko wiped the sweat and dirt from his eyes and gritted his teeth. “I’ve merely followed your orders, Your Majesty. I expected you to advance faster. I’ve lost a number of men because the Bohemians managed to get in between us, and we had to fight our way back to you.”

For a moment it looked as if the kaiser would punish Hettenheim for his insubordination, but then his shoulders sagged and he wrung his hands. “Fate isn’t on my side, Sir Falko. Soldiers are constantly deserting, and I can’t rely on those who are still here. They will run like hares at the sight of the first Hussite.”

“We could deal with one Hussite or a hundred or maybe even a thousand,” Falko von Hettenheim replied grimly. “But their leader, whom they call the Great Prokop, is following us with more than six thousand men and five hundred wagons and will get here in four days’ time at the latest.”

Panic seized Sigismund. “Six thousand Bohemians? By God, this is the end of us!”

Falko von Hettenheim crossed his arms and scrutinized the kaiser, scowling. “If we face them in battle, certainly. But there’s still enough time for an organized retreat. We’ll have to hurry, as the Bohemians are moving damned fast.”

The kaiser threw his hands into the air. “What do you advise?”

“Your life is too precious to fall into the hands of the Hussites, Your Majesty. I suggest you select a group of brave and loyal knights and leave with them early tomorrow morning, making your way as fast as possible to Nuremberg or another fortified place where you’ll be safe from the Bohemian rabble. The rest of the army should follow you by several hours, dividing up and taking different routes in order to confuse the enemy and lead them away from you. With God’s help, we’ll all make it back to you, and if not, we’ll only lose small numbers of troops, and not the whole army.”

The kaiser nodded, visibly impressed. “Will you take charge of my escort?”

“No, Your Majesty. With your permission, I will take charge of the remaining troops. They need a captain who knows the land and the Bohemians and can avoid big losses. You, however, need a brave fighter who can follow orders, and therefore I suggest my cousin Heinrich as the leader of your escort. He’ll defend you well and attack viciously should a Bohemian patrol dare to stand in your way.”

The kaiser seemed undecided, as he would rather have put his safety in Falko’s hands. But if there was one man who could salvage the sad remnants of his army, he felt it was the knight standing in front of him. He thought of what Falko told him about the rapidly approaching Hussites and shuddered. The
so-called
Great Prokop would do anything to take him prisoner, and then he would share the fate of the martyred priest in the ravaged village. The Hussites, so he had heard, had made several threats of this kind. With a deep sigh, the kaiser shook his head to clear it of those depressing thoughts and gazed pleadingly at Falko, as though he expected him to come up with the miracle that would save his Bohemian crown.

“I will follow your advice, Sir Falko. Give your cousin the order to assemble my escort, and allocate him a part of the baggage train.”

“Oh no, my lord, I beg you not to burden yourself with the baggage train,” Falko declared while concealing a smirk, still plotting to get his hands on Marie. “It would slow you down so much that the Bohemians might catch up with you!”

“You’re right, Sir Falko. Wagons would unnecessarily slow my retreat.” The kaiser inhaled sharply and beckoned János over. “Call for my servants and tell them to take only what we absolutely need. We’re leaving tomorrow at dawn, but they’ll need to load the baggage onto packhorses as we won’t be bringing wagons.”