The Wandering Harlot (The Marie Series) (26 page)

“I’m talking too much,” she said. “Please let me go, sir. They are probably already looking for me at home.”

The man gave her his arm. “I’ll take you back to your house, or other men might seek to take advantage of your situation.”

“How do I know I can trust you?” Hedwig asked. The man laughed. “You’re safe with me. After all, I used to wipe your nose when you were a child.”

Hedwig placed her fists on her hips and glared at him. “You’ve been saying all along that you know me and my father, but you won’t tell me who you are.”

“I’m Michel, son of the taverner Guntram Adler on Katzgasse Lane.”

Hedwig jutted out her lower lip. “That can’t be true. The taverner on Katzgasse Lane is named Bruno Adler.”

“That’s my older brother. My father isn’t alive any longer, either.” Michel sighed as he said that, but he didn’t feel particularly sad.

Hedwig squinted, trying to find any similarities between the slender, strong warrior standing before her and the stout taverner on Katzgasse Lane, but simply concluded that Michel was quite a bit better looking than his brother. Giving him her arm, she let him accompany her home.

III.

“Your wife wants to know if you have seen Hedwig, master.”

Mombert Flühi pondered the question carefully, since the journeyman’s voice was as anxious as if he were asking about his sister or even his bride. “No, Wilmar, I haven’t seen my daughter today. I hope she hasn’t slipped out of the house alone.”

Hurrying over to a little bull’s-eye window, Wilmar looked around outside. The window let just enough light into this part of the shop for them to be able to work without a torch. “She didn’t take any of the maids along, for they’re all with your wife. Good Lord, how can Hedwig be so reckless!”

Mombert Flühi could see how worried the young man was about his daughter and raised his hands in resignation. He wanted to tell Wilmar that a seventeen-year-old girl couldn’t be locked in her room night and day, even in times like these. Wilmar had told him that the abbot of the Waldkron monastery had an eye on his daughter and was stalking her like an infatuated young man. But she wasn’t even safe in her own home, and he couldn’t do anything to stop the abbot any more than he could block the nobleman he was obliged to take into his own house on the city council’s orders. Several times already, his noble guest, Philipp von Steinzell, had accosted Hedwig and tried to kiss her, although the one time Philipp had tried to pull her into his room, Wilmar was able to save her by telling the nobleman an inventive story about someone waiting for him in the street.

Grinding his teeth in angry frustration, Wilmar made a face, and Mombert Flühi assumed his journeyman was also thinking about these threats to Hedwig’s honor. Both men wanted nothing more than to run up to the squire’s room, pull him out into the hallway, and throw him down the stairs. Mombert swore he’d toss Philipp von Steinzell out the next time something happened, even if that caused problems for him with the city council that required citizens to provide quarters for the visiting noblemen and ecclesiastical higher-ups. He owed that much, at least, to his daughter and to ensure peace in his house. He resolved to file another complaint soon to the quartermaster of his district, and to pester that official until he got permission to evict the arrogant knight.

Wilmar looked at his master disapprovingly. “You shouldn’t have allowed Hedwig to leave.”

Mombert flared up. “What can I do? Tie her up? She probably went to the potter’s field at the crack of dawn to pray for Marie, since this is Marie’s name day. If I’d thought of that earlier, I would have gone along with her.”

Wiping his brow, Mombert pushed aside the barrel he had been working on. “Just keep working, Wilmar. I’m going out for a little walk.”

Wilmar sighed in relief, as he knew his master would be looking for Hedwig. He was returning to his tasks when the three apprentices entered one after another, late again but clearly happy to see that their master wasn’t there. Wilmar pointed to the back of the shop. “Hurry up and get to work! The wood won’t carve itself.”

The previous day, the apprentices had been told to cut staves for the barrels, but they hadn’t gotten as far along as Master Mombert had expected. Isidor and Adolar, the two younger apprentices, looked contrite and hurried to the back of the shop to pick up their tools. Just three years younger than Wilmar, the other apprentice, Melcher, stood in the doorway, a scornful look on his face.

“I have no intention of continuing to do such scutwork. If Master Mombert won’t give me proper training in barrel making, my father will send me to a better master. Jörg Wölfling would be glad to take me on.”

Wilmar frowned and stuck out his jaw. “If you don’t like the work here, you should go somewhere else. But I doubt Master Jörg will give you anything different to do. With all the important people and their entourages in town, there’s so much to be done that everyone has to work as hard as they can. Moaning and whining are things you can do at home.”

Turning his back on the surly apprentice, Wilmar picked up the small boards that Adolar and Isidor had already split, put them on the workbench, and started cutting them down to size with a sharp drawknife.

Melcher stood in the doorway for a few minutes with clenched fists. Then he walked to the back of the shop, muttering to himself.

“I’ll tell the master you’re stalking Hedwig,” he snarled at Wilmar as he walked by, quickly trying to feint an anticipated smack.

But the journeyman moved faster, slapping Melcher so hard that the sound could be heard all over the house. Isidor and Adolar looked at each other, grinning. They both agreed that Melcher had it coming to him, for as the oldest apprentice, he was always pushing them around and acting as if he were the master.

IV.

Mombert Flühi was about to turn the corner and head for the Paradies Gate when he heard his daughter’s voice behind him.

“Father, where are you going?”

Despite his impressive girth, Mombert instantly wheeled around and saw his daughter heading up the lane on an officer’s arm. He gasped with anger, as he never imagined his daughter would give all the women of Constance reason to gossip. If Hedwig earned herself a reputation as a girl who flirted with soldiers, she’d forfeit any chance of a good marriage.

“Where were you? Aren’t you ashamed of yourself, strolling around with a total stranger, and a soldier at that?” he fumed.

Hedwig was startled by her father’s sharp words, but her companion raised his hand reassuringly. “Good day, Master Mombert. I’m very glad to see you again.”

Hedwig’s father stared at the man and scratched the side of his head. “Do I know you?”

Michel took him by the shoulder, laughing.

“But Master Mombert, do you have such a poor memory? I’m Michel from Adler’s Tavern on Katzgasse Lane who followed your niece and searched for her in vain.” A shadow passed over his face.

Taking both of Michel’s hands in his own, Mombert squeezed them tightly. “Where have you been all this time, boy? And what are you doing in the military? That’s no place for a good lad like you.”

Glancing around, Michel tried to temper the man’s exuberance. “I think I should tell you over a cup of wine at your house, and not here on the street where people keep bumping into us.”

Mombert slapped his forehead. “Right you are! Come along! I’m eager to hear what you’ve been up to in the last five years.”

He took Michel by the arm, pulling him along. After a few steps, he turned to Hedwig. “It’s wonderful that you recognized Michel and brought him home with you. He has changed so much, I would never have known him.”

Hedwig lowered her head in shame. “I didn’t recognize Michel, Father. I went to the cemetery to place flowers on Uncle Matthis’s grave and pray for him and Marie. That portly abbot followed me there, and when I tried to flee, I ran right into the hands of four soldiers who wanted to hurt me. If Michel hadn’t rescued me from those vile men, I would certainly already be dead.”

Turning pale, Mombert grabbed Michel. “Is that true? Then, by God, you are a brave man, a hero, the kind we never see anymore.”

Michel blushed, his cheeks getting pink. “That’s more praise than I deserve, Mombert. The four ran away because of the coat of arms I’m wearing, not because of anything I did.”

“The palatine lion!” Mombert exclaimed respectfully. “So now you’re a soldier of the count palatine on the Rhine?”

Michel nodded proudly. “I’m one of the foot-soldier leaders summoned here to reinforce the council guards. Our ship docked yesterday in Gottlieben, where we’ll be staying, but I wanted to see my hometown again before my duties begin, so I left before dawn to come here.”

“Thanks be to God! I don’t even want to think what might have happened to my Hedwig if you hadn’t stepped in. She’s my only child, you know.” Master Mombert vowed to light a large wax candle to Saint Pelagius for sending the young warrior to help his daughter at just the right time.

After a short walk, they reached Hundsgasse Lane, where Master Mombert’s shop was located. Michel knew the place well as he used to deliver beer to him frequently. Back then, the cooper’s house was equally as splendid as Matthis Schärer’s home. Now, he noticed that time had not been kind to the buildings, and they were showing their age. Though all of the finished barrels in the yard and the piles of wood in an open shed showed that there was a lot of work being done, Master Mombert seemed less prosperous than before.

His hospitality, however, was still bountiful. Opening the front door, Mombert called to his wife, Frieda, and introduced her to their unexpected guest. She initially frowned when she saw the young palatine officer’s martial attire, but her expression changed in a flash after she learned that Michel had saved her daughter from great danger. Before attending to their guest, however, she gave her daughter a stern lecture.

“I hope this incident will be a lesson to you,” she concluded. “Though the great demand for barrels keeps your father busy with work, I’d rather have the noblemen hold their council somewhere else.”

Mombert raised his hand, trying to placate her. “You mustn’t think of it that way, woman. It’s a great honor that Kaiser Sigismund chose Constance as the place for the council.”

His wife snorted scornfully. “It will really be a great honor when in a few months all of the maids are running around with big bellies after selling their virtue to a soldier or prelate for half a penny.”

“It’s not going to be that bad,” said Mombert, trying to calm her down. “There are enough women of easy virtue here to serve every guest. In fact, the most beautiful harlots have been brought to Constance from all over the Reich for the noblemen. No local girl or woman will have to worry about her virtue.”

“Indeed? And what almost happened to Hedwig?” Frieda nagged.

“There are bad people everywhere, even here in Constance. Just remember what happened to poor Marie, and we still don’t know what happened to her after she was banished.” Mombert’s statement silenced his wife and caused Michel’s face to darken. Frieda hurried into the kitchen to get wine, sausage, and bread, and Hedwig followed her to help, not wanting to give her mother any more reason to scold her. Leading Michel into the sitting room, Mombert offered him the place at the head of the table usually only occupied by the master of the house.

“My wife will be bringing us a bit of wine and something to eat in a moment, and then you can tell me what you’ve been up to.”

Michel waved dismissively. “My life has not been very exciting. I followed Marie as far as the Rhine without finding her. Since I didn’t want to return to my father, I signed up on a ship sailing down the Rhine. When we reached the mouth of the Neckar River, two ships behind us collided. They were lucky, as neither boat sank, but a boy standing on one of the ship’s decks fell into the water. The current carried him toward our boat, so I was able to grab hold of him and pull him out without suspecting that he’d be literally worth his weight in gold.”

Michel took a drink of wine and shook his head, laughing, as if he still couldn’t grasp his good fortune. “The boy turned out to be the count palatine’s nephew. Ludwig thanked me profusely and gave me more gold than I had ever seen at once in my life. After the incident, the captain of the guards in the harbor where we had docked invited me for a drink and listened to my story. Of course I told him about Marie, and he suggested I become a soldier. He thought I would do better in the world as a servant of the count palatine than as a boatman who just travels up and down the Rhine.”

“And did you accept?” Mombert asked curiously.

“I was so drunk, I still don’t know what I told him,” Michel admitted. “The next morning when I woke up, I was surprised to find myself on the count’s own ship. But everything worked out in the end.”

“Have you been made a knight?” Mombert asked excitedly. Many men of high standing in Constance wanted nothing more than to be granted knighthood, but only a few were given this honor.

“No, I haven’t made it that far yet. But I have become captain of a band of foot soldiers, and if my luck holds out and my superior remains favorably disposed, I may one day become a castellan, or captain of a castle.”

Michel sounded so self-confident and proud that Mombert became a bit envious. This boy who was so scrawny only a few years ago, who was only the younger son of a simple taverner, had seized an opportunity and risen to an officer’s rank of one of the most respected men in the Reich. The cooper was only sorry Marie wasn’t there to witness it, since he knew she would have been thrilled for her childhood friend. Seeing Marie’s bloody and beaten body before his eyes once again, he struggled to hold back his tears.

For a while the conversation wandered, Michel telling more about his time as a vassal of the count palatine and Mombert talking about all the things that had happened in Constance. Michel’s face darkened when he heard about the suspicious circumstances under which Matthis had died, along with details of how Counselor Rupert had managed to seize all of Schärer’s property without question and almost ruin Mombert. Since Michel wasn’t in a position to help his host, however, Mombert changed the topic and spoke of the council that was currently the object of so many heated discussions in the Reich.

“I’m glad you’re one of the leaders of the council guards. With so many strangers here, it’s good to have a local person to maintain order.”

Michel turned the wine cup around in his hand and seemed to be deciding how to reply. “Well, my people are not exactly council guards; nor am I.”

Mombert looked at him in surprise. “But didn’t you say . . .”

“Yes, I was ordered to come here, but it wasn’t to parade through the streets in full uniform, saving young women from drunken mercenaries or lecherous monks. Our task is different.”

“What is it?” Mombert didn’t realize that his guest felt uneasy speaking about it.

Michel realized he had to be careful what he said if he didn’t want to start spreading rumors. “Do you know Master Jan Hus?”

Mombert nodded excitedly. “Of course! He’s a good, God-fearing man. I heard him preach once, and he says exactly what ordinary citizens are thinking.”

“You shouldn’t announce that so loudly around here. Master Hus has made himself unpopular with some of the noblemen. My soldiers and I are here to stop him from leaving Constance as surreptitiously as Pope John did.”

“Has word already gotten around that the only pope following the orders of the kaiser has secretly fled?”

Michel smiled softly. “The count palatine learns everything that happens not only in Constance but also in the entire bishopric, or else he wouldn’t be able to fulfill his responsibilities to the kaiser. The people around the kaiser suspected that John would attempt to flee after he had been urged to resign. Once a person is at the very top, it’s not easy for him to relinquish his post.”

Mombert cast a sly glance at Michel. “Are you one of those trying to bring Pope John back?”

“In that case I wouldn’t be here. No, the kaiser sent out his own people, and I don’t think it will take them long to capture him. What the nobles are more concerned about now is what to do with Friedrich von Habsburg, the Tyrolean duke who helped John flee. I’ve heard rumors that the kaiser will declare him an outlaw. Then the man will have truly earned the nickname Friedel with the Empty Pocket.”

Grinning broadly, Mombert snapped his fingers. “That would be fine with me, as then we’d be rid of a troublesome tenant. Philipp von Steinzell is a vassal of Friedrich’s. If the duke is banned from the Reich, then Steinzell will have to leave Constance as well.”

Michel frowned in surprise at his host’s vexed tone. He was about to ask more about Philipp von Steinzell when they suddenly heard a commotion in front of the house followed by suppressed curses and a woman’s shrill scream.

Michel jumped up, but Mombert, despite his corpulence, reached the door first and stormed out. On the stairway stood a young man in a nobleman’s colorful clothing, holding a struggling Hedwig in his arms. The girl had thrown a barrel down the steps at him and bitten his hand, as blood was visible on the fingers he’d placed over her mouth. Evidently Philipp von Steinzell had been lying in wait for Hedwig in order to drag her into his room. “You bastard, I’ll bash your skull in!” Mombert roared so loudly that he was heard out on the street.

The threat seemed to amuse the squire. “Well, come on then, if you dare. I’ll give you the worst beating of your life.”

“I don’t have to tolerate this in my own home!” Mombert shouted, frothing at the mouth, but he stepped back when the man raised a hand to strike him. Mombert knew he was no match for the seasoned fighter and therefore just continued to yell. “Let my daughter go, you scoundrel, then pack your things and get out. I don’t want to see you in my house again.”

The squire just laughed, but realizing that the cooper’s shouts would bring half the city running to his door, he let the girl go. Hedwig barely managed to hold on to the railing to avoid a fall, then got her footing again and rushed past her father into the house. Clenching his jaw, Philipp von Steinzell stared furiously at them and rubbed his bloodied left hand. For a moment it seemed he was about to give Mombert a good thrashing as punishment for his interference.

Standing at the door up to that point, Michel now stepped out into the hallway, ready to assist the cooper. In the room’s dim light, Philipp could only see a man’s contours and the shape of his long sword. He immediately stepped back, turned with a half-angry, half-disappointed snort, and went up the stairs. At the top of the staircase he looked down contemptuously at Mombert.

“Our business isn’t finished yet. You offered a room to me and my servant for as long as the council lasts, and I am going to make use of it.”

The look on his face showed that he hadn’t given up.

Turning red with rage, Mombert rashly went to follow his tormenter up the stairs and start a fight, but at that moment his eldest apprentice appeared from his hiding place in the hallway, staring at his master. Mombert hadn’t heard a door creaking open, so he knew that Melcher must have been concealed there when the knight attacked Hedwig. Now the cooper’s anger was directed at the youth.

“What are you doing here, you lazy fool?” he shouted, followed by a string of various other insults.

“Wilmar sent me to ask when you’ll be coming to work,” he sneered, laughing at his master. “We have a lot to do.”

Mombert stepped toward the boy, his hand raised as if to strike, but then stopped and waved Melcher off with irritation.

“I don’t owe either you or Wilmar an explanation. I have a guest at the moment—tell him that.” Turning away brusquely, Mombert took Michel by the shoulders, urging him back into the sitting room.

Melcher stared at the sitting room door for a while. Then he peered up the stairs, where Philipp’s curses could still be heard through his closed door. He next ran to the workshop door and listened there, trying to discern if anyone inside had noticed the activity in the hallway. Hearing only the usual sounds of men working, he tiptoed back again toward the sitting room, putting his ear against the door. Disappointedly turning away, he slipped out the front door, checking cautiously once outside, then ran down the lane.