The Legacy (38 page)

He pulled her against him again, and in the middle of danger, with the baron below and armed men threatening the servants, he kissed her as he had never kissed her before. All his pent-up emotions, all his fear, all his worries were in his kiss.

She kissed him back desperately, all her love and passion for him evident without saying a word.

Reality broke quickly when she heard Peter mutter a quiet, “Ye gods, would you two save it for later? We’re in trouble.”

Recalled to their senses, Wolf released Sabina, though he held her hand in a death-grip. She squeezed back.

“What?” Wolf whispered to Peter, so softly she could barely hear him. Peter, now standing on the stone outcropping, nodded to the inner ward below. Wolf leapt up beside him, and Sabina, of necessity, went with him since he did not seem inclined to let her go.

The baron, still sobbing in pain, motioned to the North Tower, and they could just make out his words.

“… told you, all I have left … it is in there,” he gasped, and then fell blessedly unconscious.

The two brothers exchanged significant looks, and then, as one, made for the door. Wolf pulled Sabina behind him. She brought him up short, shaking her head.

“Nay, they will see us,” she whispered urgently. “The Tower door is right below the staircase. There is no time,” she mouthed as the door creaked open below.

Each of them glanced wildly around, looking for a way out, but Sabina knew there was none. Since it was originally a prison tower, the castles’ builders had designed it to prevent any escape.

Wolf and Peter again exchanged glances, and each drew his sword in preparation to fight.

“Nay,” she whispered again. They had no idea how many of the men came up the stairs now, nor if the girl and the baron were still being threatened below.

“I don’t see we have a choice,” Wolf whispered back.

Sabina, being a woman, did.

“Hide,” she hissed, and motioned to the floor length tapestries.

The brothers looked insulted at the prospect of cowering behind a tapestry, but Sabina’s sense of urgency seemed to penetrate their pride and they did as she asked, each picking a tapestry opposite from the other for the best advantage should they have to fight.

Sabina hid behind a third tapestry, hoping the dust of several years would settle before the men below entered the room. She pulled out her dagger and held it in fingers now slippery with sweat.

She heard the ancient door to the Tower push open, and she held her breath.

S
ilence reigned in the Tower room. Then, the door swung open on its hinges and banged into the wall behind it. Wolf hoped to heaven Sabina hadn’t chosen to hide behind the heavy tapestry that hung beside that door. Glancing down, he could see the light of a torch flickering across the stone floor.

“Here—there’s a big box over here,” Wolf heard a man’s rough voice say.

“Well, open it, then,” came another man’s voice, this one of a slightly higher pitch. Wolf could hear movement as the men circled the chest, surveying the iron box. He had noted it when he first entered the room. It was the size of a large breadbox, and probably weighed considerably more.

“Nah, I’m not.
Herr
Müntzer’s the one to open this. He’ll have our heads if he thinks we dipped in before we brought it down,” answered the first.

“Right. You grab one end, I’ll grab the other,” his friend ordered. Wolf heard grunting and gasping as the men lifted the chest from the table. “By St. Mary’s teats, this thing is heavy,” the second man muttered.

The first man grunted an unintelligible response, and they made their way out of the Tower, hoisting the chest between them. The torchlight followed them out. They engaged in some momentary debate about how best to get it down the stairs, and then Wolf heard the steady
slide-thump-slide
of it being dragged down the steps. He waited until that sound had faded before he ventured a peek from behind the tapestry.

“All clear,” he whispered, and Peter and Sabina stuck their heads out as well. Cautiously, they climbed up and peered out of the window slit to the ward below.

The men who had retrieved the box were lugging it over to Müntzer, who approached it with a gleam in his eye. He examined the box, searching for a way to open it.

“Unusual … never seen anything like this,” they heard him say below them. Noting the multiple keyholes on the box, Müntzer ordered the ax-wielding man to revive the baron, who still lay unconscious on the ground. “… keys …,” was the only word that drifted up next. The man kicked the baron in the ribs, but he remained unresponsive.

“Come,” whispered Wolf, “they got what they came for. We must leave while they’re occupied with the chest.” He pulled Sabina down, and Peter leapt down beside her.

“But Wolf,” Sabina whispered urgently, “we cannot leave! What about those people down there? What about the baron?”

“What about him?” he asked succinctly, while shoving her toward the door, still ajar.

Sabina dug in her heels. “You know what is in the chest,” she whispered furiously. “I will not leave without it. Those men might destroy the evidence of his crimes, and he will never be brought to justice. I will never get my inheritance back.”

Wolf looked at her balefully. “Sabina, we can’t do anything about it if we’re dead. We’re outnumbered three to one.”

“Not anymore,” came a deep voice behind the door. The men jumped, instantly swinging their swords in the direction from whence the voice came. The door slowly opened, and there stood Günter, holding his great sword and wearing a grim smile.

“What the devil are
you
doing here?” Wolf hissed after he’d recovered from the shock.

“Long story,” Günter answered, his voice low. “I will surely tell it if we live.” He pointed at Sabina with the tip of his sword. “Now who do we have to kill to get her out of here? And what in
hell
is she doing here in the first place?”

Wolf eyed him wryly. “Long story. I will surely tell it if we live. In the meantime …” He grabbed Sabina’s arm and headed once more toward the door.

She shook her head, gripping the doorframe in order to prevent him from thrusting her through it.

Exasperated, Peter glared from one to the other and muttered, “We are all going to die.”

“Sabina,” Wolf whispered urgently, “listen carefully, because I only have time to say this once. Forget the inheritance. You don’t need it. I will take care of you. I will always take care of you, because you’re not leaving me, because I love you and the only way you’re ever leaving me again is if you step over my lifeless corpse—which may be sooner than you think if we don’t get out of here
now.”

Sabina took a startled breath. Affection and annoyance warred in her gaze. Finally, she shook her head.

“Leave it to a man to say such a thing at such a time …” she hissed. “I love you too, but even forgetting my inheritance, there are people down there who need our help. We have to do what we can to save them. You know that in your heart. We cannot let Müntzer escape again!”

At the mention of his name, the men stared at her. Wolf grabbed Sabina while Peter quickly climbed to the window to look down.

“Müntzer? That is Thomas Müntzer down there?” Wolf asked her.

“Yes,” she said, nodding.

Wolf dropped his chin against his chest in resignation. He looked at Günter, then at Peter, who looked back with an arched brow.

“We’re not leaving, are we?” Peter asked desolately.

Wolf shook his head. Sabina was right. They couldn’t leave Müntzer to escape again. By his actions, Müntzer had been indirectly responsible for the wholesale slaughter of the thousands of peasants who had followed him, not to mention being directly responsible for the murder of scores of nobles. If he were allowed to continue his campaign, who knew how many more would die before it was over?

“Very well.” Peter sighed. “What is the plan?”

It was a good question, one to which Wolf wished he had the answer.

“I have one,” Sabina offered quietly, and the men all turned to her in astonishment.

I
t took precious minutes for Sabina to convince Wolf to follow her plan. He argued furiously with her, at least as much as he could in harsh whispers. He was determined she should not endanger herself.

“Do you have a better plan?” she finally asked him in exasperation.

“I’ll do it, or one of the others,” Wolf insisted.

“Nay, it will not work. You three must be free to fight the other men—I cannot. But I can provide a distraction so you might.”

Wolf shook his head. He could not allow this. “There must be another way. By God, I’ll knock you unconscious and carry you out of here myself if I have to before I’ll let you—”

“Wolf,” Günter interrupted, his manner reluctant. “She’s right. It is a good plan. It could work.”

“Could—!” Wolf sputtered, swinging around to face him.

Sabina hushed him.

“I can do this,” she insisted. “Trust me, I have no desire to die. And I have faith in you.” She gazed up at him. “You will keep me safe. You made promises to me, and I intend to hold you to them.”

Wolf glowered at her, trapped, and stalked away. Then he stalked back. Desperate fear clawed at this throat, soured his stomach. What if he lost her now? “Sabina, if anything,
anything
happens, you are to hie yourself out of here at once—and don’t look back, do you understand?”

“I do,” she said.

“And don’t stop running until you’ve reached the horses on the path below. Take one and go into the city to seek help. Promise me,” Wolf insisted.

Sabina nodded. “I promised you, no one you loved would ever be hurt again, and I meant it,” she whispered reassuringly, and then kissed him. “I love you, Wolf. Remember, no matter what happens, I love you.”

Wolf tamped ruthlessly down on the stark fear that speared through him at her remark.

“Don’t… nothing is going to happen to either one of us,” he said roughly, daring the fates to prove him wrong. He wasn’t going to lose her, not after waiting so long to find her. She was his … forever. For however long forever was.

He pulled her to him and whispered for her ears only, “I love you, my sweet Sabina. I think I have from the day we met.” He could feel the tears on her cheeks.

Peter jumped down from the window where he had been keeping watch on the goings-on in the inner ward. He tapped Wolf on the shoulder. “It’s now or never, Wolf. He’s starting to come around.”

All eyes watched Wolf, and he nodded slowly. “Very well. We proceed with Sabina’s plan.”

Günter hefted his great sword and smiled that grim smile of his once again. “Just be certain to stay out of my way. I would hate to take off one of your heads by mistake.”

Peter touched his throat briefly, and even Wolf looked at Günter askance.

“I’m glad you’re on our side,” Wolf finally replied, and moved to the door.

Sabina stood just inside the door to the Tower, ready to make her exit into the ward that held Müntzer, his men, the servants, and the wounded baron. Wolf drew beside her for a moment, and fiercely pulled her to him once again.

He kissed her hard, and then, reluctantly, released her.

“Go,” he mouthed, and pulled back from the Tower door.

Taking one last glance at Wolf, Sabina opened the door quietly and stepped out. All eyes were concentrating on the wounded Baron lying on the ground, so she moved silently and quickly, hoping to get far enough away from the Tower door before any of Müntzer’s men noted from whence she had come. As she crossed behind the group, she walked in the shadows not penetrated by the torches.

The ax-wielding man kicked the baron again, intent on bringing him around. The baron moaned, trying desperately to avoid further pain by doubling up into a fetal position.

“Where are the keys?” Müntzer asked him, apparently not for the first time.

Sabina took that opportunity to step forward out of the shadows, emerging from the opposite end of the ward from where she had been.

“Leave him alone,” she ordered in as strong a voice as she could muster, apprehension making her voice quaver nonetheless.

“Here now! Who’s that?” yelled one of the men, swinging in her direction and raising his staff.

All heads swiveled to look, and Sabina held her breath as she saw, directly opposite her, the door to the North Tower slowly crack open.

Her task was to act as a distraction so Wolf and his brothers could take the armed men unawares. It appeared to be working.

“I said,” she repeated loudly for their benefit, “leave him alone!”

Müntzer’s gaze swept over her. Sabina’s skin chilled. His face was pinched and lined, and yet by all reports he could not have been older than thirty-five or thirty-six. He was tall, and even beneath his armor, she could see he carried extra weight around his middle. Barely healed cuts covered one side of his head, wounds probably received during the vicious fighting in Frankenhausen. However, his eyes struck her the most. Dark and filled with a cool animosity more frightening then outright anger would have been, they stared at her as though she were no more than a bug to be squashed and removed from his path.

Sabina was suddenly very, very afraid.

Müntzer sauntered away from the baron and slowly approached her.

“Well, well, dear girl. And just where did you come from?”

She pulled out the dagger she had hidden in the folds of her cloak, and stood in the defensive posture Wolf had shown her, elbows pulled in tight so she could not easily be disarmed.

“Not another step closer,” she warned, holding the blade steady before her. Though he seemed unconcerned about her dagger, Müntzer stopped.

“You dare to draw a weapon on me?” he said, apparently astonished at the idea. “Perhaps you do not realize who I am. Allow me to introduce myself,” he said with a bow. “I am
Herr
Thomas Müntzer, at your service, and these are my comrades in arms.” His gaze never leaving her face, he swung a hand out to indicate his companions. “We have come to liberate you from your oppressed state by relieving your master here of his financial burdens. A woman as … bold as you could surely be a great asset to the New Kingdom. We will help to usher it in with the ill-gotten gains of parasites like him,” he pointed a finger in the baron’s direction.