The Wandering Harlot (The Marie Series) (22 page)

“Here, have something to drink. It will do you good. It’s strong enough to get Fita back on her feet as well.”

“That would be nice. Thanks, Gerlind.” Hiltrud gave a sigh of relief and watched as Märthe, who had silently remained in the background until now, bent down and also gave Fita some tea. Then Hiltrud nodded at Gerlind. “I’m happy we’re all getting along again. Now let’s find a stone we can use to bake some biscuits. I have enough flour left to make a batch.”

She started to stand up, but Gerlind put a hand on her shoulder and pushed her down again. “Not yet. Go to sleep and give the medicine a chance to work, or it won’t help. In fact, we should all lie down and sleep. The biscuits can wait.”

Relaxing back onto the grass, Hiltrud nodded her agreement, trusting Gerlind’s advice since she knew the old woman was knowledgeable about herbs, and she slowly sipped the strong brew that left a bitter aftertaste on her tongue. Though her first inclination was to toss the pungent liquid away, Marie didn’t want to provoke any further conflict, so she drank the tea in short sips, Leaning her head back against the rotted, crumbling wood behind her, Marie stared dreamily at the piles of coins for a moment, then glanced over at Berta who had withdrawn into a corner, pouting. Gerlind went to join Berta, and they got into what looked to be an animated discussion. Finally Marie put aside the coins intended for Fita, counted out both her share and Hiltrud’s share into the two purses she had stolen, and handed one to Hiltrud.

Stretching out, Hiltrud gave a long yawn. “Your warm tea feels good, and the medicine already seems to be helping. You’ll have to give me the recipe sometime, Gerlind. It even relieves my stomach pain.”

“It will relax you a lot more than this,” Berta sneered.

Hiltrud felt Gerlind poking her and wanted to say something more, but her tongue suddenly became as heavy as her eyelids. She saw Marie sinking to the ground before she herself drifted off into a dense, dreamless cloud. The last thing she heard was Berta’s laughter. “That was an effective drink. The two of them are sleeping like logs.”

Gerlind stared at the two women slumped on the ground and spat as if disgusted with herself. “We’ve got to get out of here as fast as we can since I don’t know how long the potion works. Come on, Berta, take the money from them.”

Berta didn’t need to be asked twice. Quickly grabbing Fita’s share, she then took the leather pouches Marie and Hiltrud were carrying, as well as Marie’s smaller purse of recent earnings, and handed some of the gleanings to Gerlind.

The old woman was visibly struggling with her conscience. “We shouldn’t take everything from them.”

Berta waved her off with a snort and put the purses in her pockets. “Bah, it’s each one for herself!” Then she pointed at Hiltrud’s and Marie’s bundles. “What is this stuff? Shall we take it along, too?”

Gerlind shook her head. “We have enough to carry. Come on, let’s go.”

Berta’s face contorted into a spiteful grin. “With the greatest of pleasure. As long as I live, I’ll never forget how happy I am to have played this trick on these two snotty bitches. Now that they have no more money, they’ll have to bed every stinking old goat that comes along.”

She turned around without even a brief glance at Fita, and stomped off with a contented look on her face. Märthe followed in her footsteps, while Gerlind hesitated. Only after the other two women turned to call back to her did she make up her mind, leaving the drugged women behind and unprotected.

IX.

When Marie woke up, it was shortly before noon. At first she was confused, for it seemed like it had just been late afternoon. A bitter taste in her mouth reminded her of Gerlind’s tea, and she realized she had been sleeping almost a whole day. Struggling to her feet, she looked around and had to shake herself several times before she was fully awake. An arm’s length in front of her, Hiltrud still lay in a deep sleep.

“What’s wrong?” Hiltrud groaned a short while later as she, too, slowly awoke, holding her head in her hands.

“Gerlind drugged us with her tea.”

Hiltrud glanced around drowsily. Except for Fita, who lay rigid on her nearby bed of moss, there was no one to be seen. Gerlind, Berta, and Märthe had disappeared, and with them the purses that had been hanging on their belts.

Hiltrud let out a curse that would have made even a hardened sailor’s hair stand on end. “Those filthy whores stole all our money.”

In disbelief, Marie looked down and discovered the remains of the leather straps that had been attached to both her small purse and the divided spoils. Chills ran up and down her spine, and she quickly reached under her dress to see if Siegward’s gold and the rest of her savings had also been stolen. She let out a shout of joy when she found that those little bags were still there.

Hiltrud stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. “What’s gotten into you? We’ve been looted, and you’re happy?”

“It’s not as bad as I thought.” She raised her dress and showed her friend the hidden treasure. “The money here is at least ten times more than what they took. I’m so glad they didn’t think of searching us.”

Breathing heavily, Hiltrud felt an anger at the robbers far greater than her pleasure at seeing Marie’s little fortune. “Those thieving women will pay us back every penny, with interest! Come on, Marie. We’ve got to find their tracks and follow them. I’ll beat the hell out of Berta.”

“But first, we have to take care of Fita.” Marie didn’t wait for Hiltrud’s reply, but steadied herself on her still-shaky legs and went over to where the sick girl was lying. When she saw Fita’s face, however, Marie realized there was nothing more they could do.

She turned aside and wiped the tears from her eyes. “Fita is dead. The only thing that consoles me about it is that because of Gerlind’s sleeping potion, she didn’t have to suffer.”

Hiltrud placed her hands on her hips and looked grimly at the body. “Hah! Gerlind’s brew probably killed her.”

“The tea only hastened her death. I don’t think Fita would have survived much longer. She was too badly injured and had lost her will to live.”

Kneeling down, Marie stroked the dead woman’s emaciated face. “Good-bye, Fita! If there’s a just God, he will finally unite you with your child.”

“May God give her eternal peace.” Hiltrud shifted restlessly from one foot to the other. “What shall we do with her? We can’t just leave her lying there.”

“We’ve got to bury her.”

Marie gave Hiltrud no time to object but took Fita’s knife and started digging. Hiltrud grumbled about Berta getting away, but she also set to work energetically using a small rock. The afternoon passed as they dug a hole in the ground with their makeshift tools, and by the time they had placed the last stone on Fita’s grave, the sun was already setting.

Stretching her stiff muscles, Hiltrud sighed. “We must say a prayer for her, but I don’t know the right words.”

Marie tried to remember the prayers she’d heard in the Constance cathedral. She used to attend Mass almost every day, listening to the choirboys sing. Since Hiltrud was visibly nervous and wanted to look for a new campsite before the last light of day, Marie recited the words quickly.

“Take Fita into your everlasting hands, dear Lord. Her heart was too good for this world. Amen,” she said, throwing a handful of dirt on the grave, while Hiltrud picked a few flowers and scattered them over the grave. They then made a simple cross from two branches and a strip of cloth, and set it in the ground.

They were relieved to see that Gerlind and the others had at least left behind their packs containing some essentials. Between their two bundles, Hiltrud had another dress, and Marie a smock to change into, and there were also two blankets, cooking utensils, two wooden cups, and a few other useful items like flint, tinder, and the ointments they urgently needed after every bad night. Taking their bundles, they left the campsite as quickly as they could, as if they were running away.

More than an hour later, the two friends stopped under some low pine boughs to set up a makeshift camp for the night. Taking out her pack, Hiltrud was astonished to find her small leather bag, and she laughed as she looked into it.

“Those thieving magpies didn’t find my spare purse, either. It’s not much, but at least we won’t have to start out by paying for our bread with one of your gold pieces. Things like that attract bailiffs, who are usually nothing more than more-adept thieves. They’d say we’d stolen the money and immediately take it from us.”

Marie sat up and placed her hand reassuringly on her friend’s arm. “First of all, there aren’t just gold coins in the purses, but there are also a few shillings and Regensburg pennies. And second, we can borrow Gerlind’s tactic of trading favors in our tents for some bread, a pitcher of wine, or some fat and honey for pancakes.”

“Thanks, but I prefer to use silver.” With a glum face, Hiltrud said good-night, lay down, and turned her back to Marie.

It was clear to Marie that Hiltrud was obsessed with finding the trail of the thieves and catching up with them as soon as possible. She herself wasn’t so keen on the idea because she wouldn’t be surprised if Berta sent the Riedburgs out to get them. For this reason she was glad to be away from the previous campsite, and she agreed with Hiltrud that for the time being they shouldn’t light any fires.

As Marie had expected, her friend woke her at the first light of day the next morning and barely left her time to get herself ready. While washing at a nearby brook and rubbing ointment on her recent wounds, Marie temporarily lost sight of Hiltrud who had run a short distance ahead. But then she heard her voice.

“Hurry, Marie! Come quickly!”

Tossing her pack over her shoulder, Marie quickly followed her friend.

Hiltrud was standing by a small path, pointing excitedly at a muddy puddle that had almost dried up. Between the tracks of deer and wild pigs, the impression of a naked, human foot was clearly visible. Hiltrud placed her own foot alongside it in the mud, and when she removed her foot, her print was a bit longer and narrower than the other.

“If this footprint isn’t Berta’s, I’ll let every priest take me free of charge in the future,” Hiltrud crowed.

Marie nodded, then raised her hands, trying to cool Hiltrud’s enthusiasm. “These footprints are definitely Berta’s, but I don’t know if it’s a good idea for us to follow the three of them through such open country. The Riedburgs are still too close.”

Hiltrud shook her head angrily. “I’m not going to let those wenches off so easily. I always expected the worst of Berta, but I’m really disappointed with Gerlind. I traveled with her for years and never imagined that one day she would ruthlessly drug me and rob me. I’m going to pay her back for her betrayal!”

“Then we’d better be careful. Siegward von Riedburg won’t accept the loss of his money kindly.”

“If you’re so afraid of him, you shouldn’t have stolen it. What can he do except seethe with outrage?”

Hiltrud kept moving, and Marie realized her friend was too angry to pay any attention to reasonable arguments, so she had no choice but to follow her and keep her eyes and ears open. The necessity of staying alert soon became clear. They had been following a seemingly endless path, winding through a dense growth of trees, and walking on ground damp enough to show the footprints of the three women who had passed there the day before. At one point, the path crossed another, wider path, and Marie could hear the distant clatter of metal.

She grabbed hold of Hiltrud. “Hurry—we have to get back into the forest!”

Hiltrud followed her, puzzled. “What’s the matter?”

Just then, Hiltrud also heard the loud voices and muffled sound of hooves on the soft ground, and she followed Marie into the underbrush without objection. Terrified, they threw themselves on the ground, curled up into tight balls, and barely dared breathe. As the men passed by not far from them on the path they had just been on, the two women carefully raised their heads.

As Marie had assumed, Siegward von Riedburg was leading the procession, accompanied by four horsemen, and followed by a dozen mercenaries marching in double time. They seemed to have a specific goal, for they hurried past Marie and Hiltrud without even looking up from the path. Before long, the men had disappeared into the forest as quickly as they had come. Only then did the two women dare to breathe again, looking at each other in fright.

“That was close. If you didn’t have such good ears . . .” Hiltrud left the rest of her sentence unspoken. They had both seen Siegward’s furious face.

Hiltrud pressed her hand against her pounding heart. “Shall we go deeper into the forest or go back the way the men came? I’d like to have a good day’s march between us and the Riedburgs, but the trees will slow us down.”

Marie wrapped her arms around herself as if she were freezing. “But what will we do if more men are following him?”

“We’ll hear them early enough, too.” Hiltrud tried to sound more courageous than she felt. It seemed safer to have Squire Siegward far behind her than somewhere nearby where he could surprise them at any time. Marie had nothing to say in response, so they crawled out of the bush and set out again silently, startling and clutching each other at every sound.

But they proved lucky. Dusk was falling, and neither a solitary walker nor any of Siegward’s soldiers had yet crossed their path. Finally reaching a crossing, they stopped to consider which direction to go. Suddenly Marie let out a shriek, and Hiltrud quickly covered Marie’s mouth with her hand.

“Quiet!” she said anxiously.

Hiltrud took her hand away, and Marie choked and nodded, pointing to the bloody, disfigured mass on the ground that had once been Gerlind. A wave of nausea came over her, and she staggered, bent over and retching, until nothing was left in her stomach except bile.

Hiltrud could do nothing to help Marie, because she was paralyzed by complete horror. “Gerlind was a thief and betrayed us, but she didn’t deserve to die like this,” she said as Marie walked toward her.

“No human being does.” Marie groaned, then hunched over again as she hobbled away, pain radiating from her empty stomach.

Hiltrud ran after her and discovered the remains of Berta and Märthe less than ten steps away, also both badly mangled. Marie’s stomach had settled down a bit, but tears continued to run down her cheeks. “How can people be so cruel? This is all my fault,” Marie whispered. “If I hadn’t stolen the money, our friends would still be alive and well.”

Hiltrud straightened up, dried her face on her sleeve, and placed her hands on Marie’s shoulders. “Now listen to me! If those three hadn’t drugged and robbed us, they would be alive now, and we would all be safe. Where do you think Siegward and his killers were going? They’re headed to the camp where those harlots left us. One of the women must have told the killers, and if the men hadn’t spent so much time slaughtering them or if the effect of Gerlind’s potion had lasted longer, we’d both be dead, too. And our last moments would have been even more torturous, as Siegward would have found his purse on us.”

Marie nodded, but she also didn’t want to completely condemn their former traveling companions. It was easy for her to imagine that one of them, fearing for her life, had betrayed the location of their camp to the Riedburgs, and Marie tried to get Hiltrud to understand that as well.

“That may well be,” Hiltrud interrupted dourly, “but all I’m interested in right now is saving my own skin. Let’s get out of here and run away as far as our feet will take us. And don’t try to convince me to bury these three thieves.”

“No, there’s no time for that. When Siegward finds our tracks, he’ll return, and, at the latest, that will be after he doesn’t find us at the campsite where Fita’s buried.”

Marie straightened up, pressed her hand to her aching stomach, and followed Hiltrud into the gathering darkness. She was ashamed of her weakness and at the same time struggled with self-reproach. No matter how she looked at it, she felt guilt for the death of her three former companions. Though she tried to console herself with Hiltrud’s admonitions that the three women had sealed their fate through their own greed, she already suspected that the horrible sight at the crossroads would follow her in her dreams for a long time.