The Healers Apprentice (34 page)

He held Frau Geruscha in front of him like a shield, pressing the blade of his dagger against her throat. Exultation rose up inside him. He smiled.

Wilhelm drew his sword the minute the door flew open.

Moncore stood with a knife to Frau Geruscha’s throat. But where was Rose?

“Welcome, Duke Wilhelm. As you can see, you’re too late. I’ve just made sure that your precious maiden will have demons to keep her company for the rest of her life. She’ll never be any use to anyone—unless you want a mad woman for a wife.” He laughed as if crazed.

Wilhelm stepped farther into the room and saw Rose crumpled on the floor behind Moncore. His blood ran cold as a calm presence of mind overtook him. “What did you do to her?”

“I demonized her, precisely as I promised I would.” He leered with an evil grin. “You see, I have powerful friends in the spirit world, dark forces much more powerful than you, and certainly more powerful than the impotent Duke of Marienberg. I swore I would avenge myself on him, and I have succeeded. And now I curse you, Wilhelm Gerstenberg, I curse you! May your house be left to you desolate!”

It took all Wilhelm’s willpower not to lunge forward and slice into him. But he couldn’t risk Geruscha’s life. His mind raced through all the possibilities while he held his sword poised and ready.

“I will be leaving you now to tend your pathetic future wife.” Moncore jerked Frau Geruscha forward as he started toward the door. “Stand aside and order your men to do so as well.”

The evil man’s voice shook, and so did the hand in which he held the dagger. Wilhelm nodded to his men and they moved aside, their faces twisted in ruthless glares.

Moncore slowly dragged Frau Geruscha out the door. Frau Geruscha’s expression was defiant.

Wilhelm wouldn’t let him hurt her, and he wouldn’t let him get away, either. He would kill him for what he had done to Rose, whatever he had done.

Surely God would heal her. But he couldn’t think about that now.

As Moncore slowly backed through the courtyard with Frau Geruscha, Wilhelm came after him, matching him step for step, Georg at his left, Christoff at his right.

“Get back, I say!” The fiend pressed the knife against Frau Geruscha’s throat, forcing her head back. “Let me leave the city now or I’ll kill her.”

Wilhelm kept moving forward.

“Get back!”

Wilhelm’s eyes locked with Frau Geruscha’s. She pressed her lips together. Her whole body sank straight down in one swift movement, startling Moncore. He grabbed for her and missed.

The knife cut her neck when she went down. Blood appeared under her chin and dripped onto her dress. She darted to her left and Wilhelm lunged forward, taking Moncore’s attention away from Frau Geruscha, allowing her to run out of his reach.

“Give up!” Wilhelm yelled.

“You will have to kill me!”

He guessed what Moncore was about to do—launch a dagger at his heart. As it flew through the air, Wilhelm leapt to his right, and the dagger sliced through his shirt sleeve. He landed hard on his hip. He felt the cut on his arm but ignored it.

Georg and Christoff drove forward with their drawn swords. But instead of running away as expected, Moncore stood his ground. Wilhelm watched as the conjurer began babbling, “Fight and live or fight and die. Fight and live or fight and die.” As he spoke, he reached inside his cloak, surely reaching for another weapon.

Christoff reached the evil man first, his sword poised for the kill. Moncore, eyes wild, drew out a flask and flung powder in Christoff’s face. Christoff lunged forward blindly, striking the conjurer in the chest.

Moncore sank to his knees, gurgling and coughing. He fell to his side, clutching the sword, which stuck out through his chest and back. “They’re coming for me!” he cried. “No, no, don’t take me!” Blood gushed out of his nose and mouth. He held his hands up before his face, as though to ward off an attacker.

Wilhelm and his knights stared in silence at the man dying before them. They all crossed themselves at the same time.

A strange mist began swirling above Moncore as he lay on the hard-packed dirt of the courtyard. The mist congealed into several ethereal heads, shoulders and arms, all reaching out toward the bleeding, gasping man. Wilhelm raised his sword. He focused his eyes on the evil spirits, for that was all he could think to call them. Their
faces contorted, they looked only at Moncore. They seemed to claw at him while he screamed. Wilhelm held his breath, chills racing over his arms and down his back as he watched, half-disbelieving his own eyes.

Moncore continued to scream as the demons hovered above him. Finally, his voice gave out. His head fell back, his eyes closed. And the spirits disappeared.

Wilhelm shot a look at his men. They glanced back at him, their faces as gray and sickly as newly shorn sheep.

“Holy Jesus, save us,” Georg whispered hoarsely.

Christoff’s throat bobbed convulsively, and both knights crossed themselves again.

Rose.
Wilhelm sheathed his sword and ran back to the healer’s chamber.

When he entered the room, Geruscha was kneeling at Rose’s side, supporting her head. Black liquid dribbled out of the corner of her mouth.

O God
,
let her not be dead.

Wilhelm crossed the floor and dropped to his knees by her side. “What did he do to her?”

“Some kind of potion.” She swept her finger over Rose’s tongue, continuing to remove any of the poison that had not gone down her throat.

Rose moaned. Then her arms and legs began to thrash around weakly.

“Rose.” Wilhelm leaned over her.
Please don’t die. Please open your eyes.

“Get her up on the bed,” Geruscha said. The cut under the healer’s chin looked like it had stopped bleeding, although red drops stained her dress front.

Wilhelm picked Rose up and placed her on the bed. He gently brushed back the long strands of hair that had fallen across her face. She stopped moving.

Frau Geruscha went into the storage room and came back with an empty bucket and a cup of some liquid. “Lift her up.”

He slid his arm beneath her and held her in a sitting position. Her head lolled on his shoulder. Frau Geruscha tried to get her to drink the cup of liquid, but most of it spilled out of her mouth and onto her chest. Finally, Rose moaned softly and parted her lips. She took a big
gulp. As soon as she did, she leaned over and vomited. Frau Geruscha was ready with the bucket.

Rose’s eyes were wide open now, but she didn’t seem to see either Frau Geruscha or Wilhelm as Geruscha wiped her face with a wet cloth. Instead, her eyes were wild and searching, darting from one end of the room to the other, her mouth twisted in a look of absolute terror and horror.

“Rose, what’s wrong?” Wilhelm asked.

She began babbling incoherently, cringing and staring at something over Wilhelm’s shoulder. “What?” He turned and tried to see what she was looking at, but he saw nothing out of the ordinary. Certainly they were the only three people in the room. So what was she staring at?

Wilhelm leaned over her. “Rose? Look at me! What is it? Do you see something?”

She took no notice of him, but shrank back on the bed, as though something monstrous was coming at her. She screamed, throwing her hands over her face.

Wilhelm’s heart raced and the hair on the back of his neck tingled, sending a crawling sensation across his shoulders. He turned to Geruscha. “What is it?” Had Moncore done as he’d boasted? Had he driven her mad with his potion? Had he sent demons to torment her?

Frau Geruscha’s face was stricken and pale. She put her face so close that Rose couldn’t avoid seeing her. “Rose. What is it? What’s wrong? Rose, look at me. Rose.” Frau Geruscha persisted. “Do you see me?”

Rose half-gasped, half-sobbed as she finally made eye contact with Frau Geruscha. Then she seemed to try to talk, opening her mouth. Nothing came out at first, then a few sounds that could have passed for words—if they had made any sense.

What could be terrifying her? It was as though she were having a nightmare, but her eyes were wide open. She saw something that Wilhelm and Geruscha could not see. But what?

Wilhelm leaned toward Frau Geruscha, his brain bursting with anxiety. “Don’t you have some herb, some remedy to help her?”

Rose screamed again. Dear God, he couldn’t bear it! There had to be something he could do besides stand around helpless, watching her suffer, hearing her scream.

Frau Geruscha turned suddenly and grabbed Wilhelm’s arm. Her

eyes grew wide. “Demons. That fiend said he would demonize her. There must be demons in the room.”

“Why can’t we see them?”

“Perhaps she can see them because of the poison Moncore gave her.”

He drew nearer to Rose. She shuddered and shrank back, her face full of horror. He grabbed her shoulders and forced her to look at him. “It’s me. Rose, don’t look at me like that. I won’t let them hurt you.”

He looked around the room and shook his fists. He glanced back at Geruscha. “How do I fight demons?”

“You must cast them out.”

“How?”

“The name of Jesus. He gave us authority over the demons. Command them in the name of Jesus to leave.”

Wilhelm searched the room again, trying to follow Rose’s gaze, to see the evil spirits that were tormenting her. But he saw nothing, only felt an eerie presence that made his skin crawl as if covered with a thousand spiders.

Clasping Rose’s hand, he said, “In the name of Jesus, I command you demonic spirits to get away from this maiden, now.” His voice echoed through the room.

Rose’s breath rasped in her throat. Her expression seemed calmer, but her eyes continued darting around the room. She suddenly fixed her gaze on a back corner of the chamber and pointed, shrinking back.

Dear God!
They were still there. Wilhelm scanned the room. “Show yourselves!” He shook his fists at them. But he had no power against them. Except of course the power of Jesus’ name. He was a child of God, so that gave him the power and protection of Jesus, didn’t it? Perhaps the demons couldn’t really hurt her, they could only scare her. He then remembered a verse from the Bible, which spoke of a believer’s ability to cast out any demon in his name. He had commanded the demons to leave her alone. Maybe he just needed to
cast them out of the entire region.

“In the name of Jesus, I cast you out, demons! I command you by the power of Jesus to leave this room, this castle, and this region forever.” His flesh still crawled but he felt suddenly invincible. And he knew. In the name of Jesus was more power than Moncore could ever dream of.

He turned his attention on Rose. Her eyes swept the room again,
but she looked peaceful. She slumped back onto the pillow and closed her eyes, her face pale.

Frau Geruscha leaned her head down until her ear almost touched Rose’s mouth. Her eyes met Wilhelm’s. “She’s sleeping.” Geruscha picked up the cup.

He sank to the floor on his knees and held Rose up while the frau gave her water. This time she swallowed without retching. She drank without opening her eyes, and Wilhelm placed her back on the pillow.

He watched the ever-so-slight rise and fall of her chest. He wanted to pick her up and never let her go.
God
,
I pray that the potion will not hurt her any more. Help her wake up
,
God.

He glanced up at Frau Geruscha. “Will she live?”

The frau sighed. “I hope so. She expelled a lot of the poison, so that is good. We shall have to wait and see if she awakens.”

He let out a deep, calming breath, then clasped his hands tightly in front of his chest. He bowed his head and closed his eyes. “O God, you are mighty. We are witnesses of your great power. Oh, Jesus, thank you. Your name has cast out the demons from this place.” He paused, unable to go on for a moment. A dry sob escaped him. “Please don’t let her die. Block the poison from hurting her. Don’t let her die, God. Save her from this poison.”

He wasn’t sure how long he knelt there. He tried to grasp all that had happened. Moncore was dead—that was for certain—and could never harm her again. But…
why would Moncore want to harm Rose?

Wilhelm fastened his eyes on Frau Geruscha, who stood behind him, watching Rose. He slowly got to his feet and faced Frau Geruscha, forcing her to look up at him.

“Is Rose my betrothed?”

Her lips parted as she stared back at him.

“Is she? Is she the daughter of the Duke of Marienberg?”

“How…how would I know?”

He wrapped his hands around her frail shoulders, willing himself not to shake her. “Tell me the truth. Do you know who my betrothed is?”

Distress deepened the creases around her eyes and forehead. She shook her head. “I cannot tell you,” she whispered desperately. “I swore an oath.”

“Then it is Rose.”

“Please, Your Grace. Have mercy on me.” A tear slipped down her cheek.

Wilhelm let go. He turned to look at Rose. His heart seemed ready to leap out of his chest. Could it be? Rose? His Rose. It was too good to be true.

He knelt by her side, watching her breathe, watching her chest rise and fall. Frau Geruscha knelt beside him and, with her shears, she cut his sleeve at the rip.

“Leave it. It’s nothing.”

“It must be tended to, my lord. Your whole sleeve is soaked in blood.”

Wilhelm looked at his arm for the first time and saw she was right. “You’re cut too.” He had to bend down to look at her neck. The blood had dried in a thin line under her chin.

“Merely a scratch.” She smiled as though she had just been in a fist fight and won.

Frau Geruscha probed his cut with her fingers. The pain in his arm suddenly intensified.

“Take off your shirt.” Geruscha stood and walked to the shelf where her bandages were stored. “I’ll need to tend to your wound.”

“What about Rose?”

Geruscha went into the storage room and came back with a bowl of water. “I will keep giving her water, which should help the poison move out of her body. But it is good that she sleeps. We must pray and hope…Now take off your shirt.”