The Wandering Harlot (The Marie Series) (8 page)

“A nightmare . . . That’s how it seems to me as well, even though I must say, in my case it wasn’t quite so unexpected.”

In contrast to Marie, Fita’s soft voice seemed to harbor no feelings of hatred. “There was nothing I could do about it. The master was so much stronger than I, and he took advantage of me as if he had every right to. Perhaps he did, because when I complained at home, my parents scolded me and told me not to be so prissy. The master’s wife was harsh with me, but she let her husband do what he wanted.”

Fita sighed, relaying how her mistress had taken her to court. “I suffered the full force of her anger and jealousy when I became pregnant. She must have hated me for the full belly her husband gave me while she was running to church every day, begging the Mother of God for a child that never came. But how was that my fault? The court condemned me for immorality and ordered the bailiff to be strict with me.”

Fita stared at her intently. “Do you know what that means?”

“No.”

“First they branded me with an iron, then beat me with no consideration for my pregnancy, and that’s how I lost the child. All I could see was that it was a boy. The priest overseeing my beating said the child would go to hell anyway, so my baby was buried without being baptized. But I’m sure God took my little fellow into heaven, for he was the most innocent of us all.”

Rocking his imaginary form in her arms, Fita continued to speak of the boy as if she were watching him frolic through heavenly fields. Marie realized that she lived only to atone for her unbaptized child and prepare her own way into the heavenly kingdom.

As Marie listened to Fita’s life story, she envied her piety. Fita still believed in God’s goodness and found consolation in prayer. But what would she herself have if her father didn’t find her soon? She had lost her faith, even as she continued calling upon the Virgin Mary, begging her to send an angel to guide her father to her and release her from shame. But her prayers were empty words that gave her no hope.

Marie realized that miracles no longer happened in this world. She had heard many people say that all misfortune had been caused by the three men who had each declared themselves pope, fighting over which of them was Christ’s true vicar on earth. This was a time of the devil and his demons, turning men into animals and making them violate all the commandments of God. Until just a short time ago, Marie hadn’t taken an interest in this talk, but she was now convinced that people were right.

Suddenly Marie recoiled from these thoughts. She couldn’t continue down this path. But she didn’t want to end up like Fita, nor did she want to take her own life voluntarily. She knew that it wasn’t easy for her father to follow her path, as she had already traveled a great distance and he couldn’t know she had fallen in with a group of wandering harlots. In her heart, however, she firmly believed that her father would save her in time.

VII.

They spent the next day on the road and reached another inn shortly before nightfall. A simple fence surrounded the large front yard, and inside it many freight coaches stood around. The wagon drivers had already secured their loads and were sitting, relaxing in a circle.

Since the front part of the inn was not surrounded by a wall, there was no fortified gate and no servants to keep undesirables away, so Berta had been able to run ahead and easily approach the men. As her traveling companions came nearer, they saw that she was already shaking off the straw clinging to her from her roll in the hay with her first customer, and she came forward to meet them, waving cheerfully.

“We can earn good money here. There are two large wagon trains, one from Constance and one from Stuttgart.”

“From Constance, you say?” Marie asked in a trembling voice. Without waiting for Berta’s reply, she hurried over and looked around, seeing a wagon bearing the sign of a business she knew from home. Scrutinizing all the men sitting at tables relaxing and drinking their wine out of simple wooden cups, she hoped to see a familiar face. Perhaps she could learn something here about her father—or possibly, he might even be here himself. She soon spotted a man who seemed familiar even though he was sitting with his back toward her. For a moment she hesitated, but when he turned around to answer another guest’s question, she was shocked and ducked back into the shadow of a freight wagon. She looked out again more carefully and realized she hadn’t been mistaken. It was Utz Käffli.

Marie wrapped her arms around herself and doubled up with the pain that suddenly shot through her abdomen. The sight of the filthy man in his shabby coachman’s uniform terrified her, and though she felt like running away, she stayed in the hope of learning something about her father.

Since Berta, Gerlind, and Fita had attracted the attention of the wagon drivers, nobody paid her any mind, not even Hiltrud, who had quickly tied her goats to the fence and also joined the men. So as not to be noticed, Marie stepped behind one of the shelters open on three sides where draft oxen and servants spent the night. Darkness was falling fast, concealing Marie from the gazes of others while she herself could see what was going on in the firelight.

She watched as Hiltrud came to terms with a well-dressed, middle-aged man and followed him under the canvas of a freight wagon. Fita was dragged off into the darkness by a heavily built man, and another coachman tried to grab Berta, but Utz got there before him and pulled the plump woman to him with a triumphant grin. Soon Gerlind had also found a customer and disappeared with him behind one of the large wagon wheels while the other drivers jealously looked on.

Visibly satisfied, Utz returned to his seat. Marie crawled back to the freight wagon and hid behind a wheel. She had to know what happened in Constance after she left, but under no condition did she want this devil to see her. The presence of the man who had slandered her and raped her prevented her from trusting anyone here, since he would turn anything she said against her and just add to her misery. Thus she had to be satisfied with what she was able to overhear.

Unfortunately, the wagon drivers only talked about everyday concerns and news they had picked up along the way. Their conversation soon turned to politics, and they discussed each of the three popes’ having excommunicated the other two, sending their supporters with armies of mercenaries to fight and weaken their opponents, with no consideration for their believers who were thus embroiled in hopeless confusion.

Marie cared little about this matter and was afraid she wouldn’t learn anything about her father. Just as she was about to leave and search for a half-safe place to sleep for the night, the well-to-do man who had been with Hiltrud returned, sat down with the Constance wagon drivers, and drank with them to the success of their trip. Judging by his clothing, Marie thought him a merchant who owned some of the goods in the caravan coming from Stuttgart and hoped he would change the topic of conversation. Indeed, he soon turned to Utz, who was the leader of the other wagon train.

“You’re coming straight from Constance, so you must know the merchant Matthis Schärer, don’t you?”

Utz grumbled something incomprehensible into his unkempt beard and nodded grudgingly.

The merchant didn’t seem to notice Utz’s deprecatory manner, as he smiled with relief. “Matthis Schärer ordered several wagonloads of Flemish cloth from me and was going to send me a partial down payment. I’ve tried to contact him twice but haven’t received an answer. Can you tell me . . .”

“You can’t depend on that man anymore, sir,” one of the other servants interjected. “Master Matthis’s business closed after his only daughter was driven from town because of wanton behavior and other misdeeds. Schärer took it so hard that he sold his entire business and left the city. Some say he has crossed Lake Constance to join a group of pilgrims on the way to Rome or even to the Holy Land.”

Another driver demurred with a contemptuous wave of his hand. “What nonsense! That’s just a story that well-meaning people have been spreading. As far as I know, Schärer threw himself in the lake and drowned the very day his daughter was convicted.”

An elderly wagon driver shook his head doubtfully. “I don’t know what to make of all the gossip. Some say as well that Schärer sold everything he had to his almost-son-in-law and set out to find his daughter.”

Marie was about to breathe a sigh of relief when she heard those words, but a traveler accompanying the wagon train from Constance who was, judging by his dress, a scholar from Lucerne, shook his head reluctantly. “That’s not possible. I was involved in a legal matter a few months ago with Counselor Rupert Splendidus and his father, Count Heinrich. Rupert was as poor as a church mouse and couldn’t even afford a decent counselor’s robe. How could he have bought the property of a rich Constance citizen?” His voice sounded spiteful.

The older driver contradicted him vehemently. “You certainly got that wrong. The counselor now lives in Master Matthis’s house and is always very well dressed. Hey, Utz, speak up! Weren’t you there when the affair with the Schärer girl happened and Master Matthis disappeared?”

All eyes turned to Utz. Marie could hear her heart pounding so hard, she was afraid people would hear it. She pressed her hand to her chest and held her breath so not a single sound could escape her mouth.

Shrugging, Utz waved them off with his hand and spat into the fire. “Why are you asking all these silly questions? I don’t know any more than you do. Master Matthis’s daughter was convicted of immoral behavior and driven out of town. I have no idea what happened to her or her father after that.”

“But you were a regular visitor to his house after Counselor Rupert moved in. Certainly you heard something,” one of the drivers shouted, curiosity written all over his face.

Marie drew closer so she wouldn’t miss a single expression on his face. Listening to him aggressively deny that he knew anything about the matter, she felt a shiver run up and down her back. Utz was lying, a fact that was even evident to some of the people at the table, and he angrily turned away any further questions. When the clamoring insistence of the others became too great, he stood up and went to one of the sleeping places without having finished his wine nor, as one of the armed escorts noted with annoyance, having assigned guard duties for the night. His curious behavior gave rise to wild speculation among those left sitting at the table, but since no one could shed any additional light on the issue, conversation soon turned to other topics.

For a while, Marie was so upset, she couldn’t move. She wondered why Utz, whose false accusation had been the start of her misfortune, was now so strongly denying his part in the matter. There had to be something he wanted to keep hidden, and it couldn’t just concern her. Utz alone couldn’t have convinced Euphemia, the shoemaker’s widow, to testify falsely. Only Rupert could have done that, with the wagon driver as his accomplice. She knew that if her father were alive, he would never have let the counselor set foot in the house, so had the two killed her father in order to take his property? Since government authorities immediately confiscated property without an heir, she couldn’t imagine that possibility. With a start, however, she suddenly remembered that her former fiancé had good relations with the bishop and other high officials. It was indeed conceivable that with their help he had seized possession of her house.

Marie wanted to jump up and accuse Utz of rape and murder in front of everyone there, but she quickly realized it would only hurt her and the women she was traveling with. No one would believe her except Utz, and he would not hesitate to kill her, too, along with her companions. The surrounding forests could hide many dark secrets if a few itinerant women disappeared.

Carefully, Marie left the yard without being seen. Once outside, she crouched alongside the fence and petted Hiltrud’s two goats, lost in her reveries. She knew two things for certain now: her father would not save her, and no one else was left to take an interest in her fate. In order to mislead her uncle Mombert and others, Rupert must have started the rumor that her father had left to search for her.

Listening to the sound of the nearby river Elta, she wondered if it was deep enough and its current strong enough to offer her a merciful end. She wasn’t afraid to commit suicide, and she knew she’d never be able to travel the road as a harlot like Gerlind and the others. She struggled to her feet and began to head down to the river.

But at her very first step, it occurred to her that she was the only one who could confront Rupert for his treacherous misdeeds. He had stolen her father and had made her life worth less than that of a farm animal. If she killed herself now, he would have won everything.

Turning all this over in her mind, she wondered what she could do. As a dishonorable wandering prostitute, she had no possibility of seeking justice from a man like Counselor Rupert Splendidus, an esteemed citizen and son of the Count Heinrich von Keilburg. Give up, she said to herself. Do you want to become like Fita, where the rest of your life is one unending torture?

But something within her resisted surrender. Hadn’t Hiltrud said that even prostitutes were not defenseless? Marie knew that she was still young and pretty, and if she stopped hiding that fact, perhaps a young man might fall so much in love with her that he’d kill Rupert, Utz, Linhard, and Hunold just to win her heart. Or perhaps, even better, she could save enough money to hire someone to murder the four of them. The thought of revenge was not exactly Christian, but the church had already condemned her to hell one way or the other, whether she became a murderer or spent the rest of her life atoning for a sin she had not committed. She decided it was better to live for revenge than to die now and enter the fiery gates without finding retribution.

Marie woke from her reveries with a start when the four other women returned. Hiltrud scolded her for daydreaming since Marie hadn’t watered the goats, put up the tent, nor built a fire. But she didn’t sound serious and seemed in good spirits from her business dealings. Berta also appeared pleased, humming a lively tune and jingling the coins she had earned. Even Gerlind chuckled happily to herself. But Fita groaned and bent over in pain, pressing her hand to her stomach.

“Why do men always have to be so coarse?” she complained.

Shaking her head, Gerlind sighed. “You let them take advantage of you and do anything they want. Look around for the right men, and then you won’t have so many problems. Use some of Hiltrud’s tincture, or better yet, the salve she gets from the Merzlingen apothecary. It doesn’t burn as much.”

Hiltrud went to her wagon to get the salve. “Gerlind is right,” she told Fita, holding the balm out to her. “You have to learn to tame these ruffians, or you won’t last long. Here, take this. It really helps. This stuff worked for Marie. She was badly beaten, and now the wounds are invisible.”

Berta looked up and snorted. “Aha, so Marie is healthy again? I’m surprised you don’t put her to work. She’s your maid, and you have a right to most of her earnings. There were easily enough men with money in their pockets for all five of us today, and Fita could surely have done with one or two fewer. If Fita’s as badly injured as she claims, it will be days before she’s able to earn money again.”

“I’ll leave it to Marie to decide when she can start work.” Hiltrud wanted to give Berta a tongue-lashing and tell her it was none of her business, as such admonitions didn’t make it easier to convince Marie of the advantage of a prostitute’s life. There was still a risk the girl would drown herself rather than be reasonable once she realized that none of her relatives would come to save her. But Hiltrud clenched her teeth to stifle any further discussion.

Berta didn’t relent. “Then you really are stupid. I would have given that fine young girl to a brawny stud by force if necessary. If she wants to continue with us, she’s got to adapt. I won’t tolerate one more useless mouth to feed in the group.” Her final words sounded venomous.

Gerlind pounded the grass with the flat of her hand. With these words Berta had attacked her authority, and she wouldn’t tolerate that. “First of all, you don’t have to feed Marie, and second, you should be happy you earned more money today than you could have if she had snatched away our best customers with her pretty face.”

Fita stood up. “I’m going down to the river to wash up.” She hated controversy and ran away from arguments. Gerlind and Hiltrud just nodded and went down to the river with her. As usual, Marie joined them to keep an eye on their clothing. After a short sulk, Berta also followed, but she had no intention of removing her clothes to wade into the water. She was still in a bad mood and hadn’t gotten over Gerlind’s reprimand.

“Be careful you don’t catch cold down below, or I’ll have to work all by myself for a while.”

Gerlind laughed. “Haven’t you always wanted to be the only whore for miles around?”

Even Berta had to laugh, and the tension among the women vanished as quickly as it had started. While Berta and Marie remained on the shore, Gerlind, Hiltrud, and Fita plunged into the water. In the light of the moon they looked like water sprites in a mysterious, shimmering kingdom. Finally, Marie also removed her dress and walked into the river. The cold water nearly took her breath away, and she had to force herself to go in as far as her shoulders.