Wolf's Cross (15 page)

“That isn’t what I meant,” Maria said. “I meant, if there is some danger out there, why would your Order command you to keep it secret?”

Josef shook his head. For some reason, Maria thought of her father, and how he had never explained the significance of the
cross he’d made her wear. Why would Josef’s masters explain such things to him if he was already pledged to obey them?

“Forgive me,” Maria said. “That was an impertinent question. I should go to my other duties. I will see you this evening.”

As she walked though the doorway, Josef said, “Maria?”

She turned around. “Yes?”

“If I haven’t told you before, thank you.”

She felt her cheeks become warm, which made her uncomfortably aware of the missing wound. “You’re welcome,” she said and left quickly, without finding out exactly what Josef was thankful for.

A
s Josef watched her leave, he felt the clash of his own emotions. Knowing what he did of the demons the Wolfjägers hunted, the quick healing of her face had filled him with wild, panicked speculations, despite the silver cross she wore. But the mundane cuts in her hand gave the lie to his unfair suspicion, as did the fact that she had borne the marks on her face for days. No, his brief mistrust was wrong, and unfair to her. Maria was a good woman, and these things were evil.

What troubled him nearly as much was the fact that he had almost broken his silence. What he had told Maria came close to disobedience in spirit, if not in specifics. And her final question had fired a doubt in him that burned worse than the wound in his belly.

He didn’t eat his breakfast. Instead, he got slowly out of bed and began to dress himself. Some servant of Gród Narew had washed and repaired his surcote with the partial black cross of the Order, the lower arm now scarred by stitched repairs and some stains that had faded against the white. They had taken his mail, but there were hose and a shirt for him to wear, along
with his belt, complete with empty scabbard and a few tooth marks.

He had to take several breaks as he dressed himself. It wasn’t pain. His wound was a constant ache squeezing his stomach, and the level of discomfort didn’t vary enough to be noticeable.

No, what occupied his time was the exhaustion. Every movement was tiring, every piece of clothing felt too heavy, and every small task seemed Herculean. But, after a long, laborious effort, he was able to finally go abroad in Gród Narew.

H
e found Komtur Heinrich leading a service for his more able-bodied brothers in a small chapel lent by their Polish hosts. He joined the service at the back of the room, feeling comfort in the communal devotion. He had felt too alone lately. It helped him remember that there were others taking this path with him.

It also made him reconsider his doubts. If Heinrich hadn’t caught his eye at the end of the service, he might have left with Maria’s impertinent questions unasked.

But Heinrich did see him, and called out, “Josef,” as his brothers filed out of the room.

Josef walked slowly to the front of the room. Heinrich was not particularly generous with his expressions of emotion, but his lips turned up slightly in as much of a smile as Josef had ever seen the Komtur wear. “Yes, sir?”

“You are walking. I didn’t expect a recovery so fast.”

“In truth, I am still burdened by this wound. But I wished to talk to you.”

“What of?”

“Things best spoken of in private.”

“I see. Come with me then.” Heinrich led him out of the
chapel, then outside, walking slowly to accommodate Josef’s sluggish movements. “You’ve been confined so long that the open air should do you some good.”

They walked through the open courtyards under a blue summer sky that was marred by only a few gray wisps of rain clouds to the west. The sun was warm on Josef’s skin, and the air was like a cool drink of water after the confined stench of his sickroom. When Heinrich reached a spot close to the wall and empty of people, he turned and asked, “What is it that troubled you enough to make you leave your bed?”

“The creatures we hunt: are they native solely to the Prussian wilds?”

“What prompts you to ask that question?”

“A servant here, one who lives beyond the walls, in a farm past these woods. Her father gave her a silver cross, in her words, ‘to protect her.’”

“You think it means that such beasts reside in these woods.”

“It made me consider that.”

“I am glad you brought this concern to me. These wolfbreed we fight, you will find legends of their existence as common as wolves themselves. But I caution you not to draw conclusions in haste. The reality is much rarer than the legend. Do not hunt for new paths until our current journey is completed. The beast that wounded you is still abroad.”

“That is the other question I wished to ask of you.”

“Yes?”

“The beast we hunt could be devastating another village while we remain here, impotent. Right now it may be feasting on innocent flesh.”

“That is the nature of fighting evil. No man or group of men can confront it all, everywhere, at once. God only gives us the power to act when and where we can.”

“Then why not warn the people? We might not be there, but if the farmer in the village had as much as a silver-clad dagger rather than a scythe—”

Heinrich laid a hand upon Josef’s shoulder and said, “It troubles you, our secrecy. It is a fact that the demands of the Order’s vows are not easy. Not mentally, not physically, and not spiritually. I find it difficult myself. But there is a reason that might make the burden easer to bear.” Heinrich let go of his shoulder and took a few steps away from him to face the outer wall. “Do you know what happened in Strasbourg four years ago?”

“Yes, I do.”

“When the pestilence first made itself known, the pope saw what might happen. God saw fit to send the angel of death abroad in the land, and the masses, like the pharaoh’s people in Egypt, failed to see it as the hand of God. When Pope Clement spoke and said that those who blamed the Jew were seduced by the lies of the Devil, who listened? The mob in Strasbourg burned thousands, in direct opposition to the Church and the will of God. I heard tell that even some priests and bishops were caught up in the madness.” Heinrich turned to look at Josef. “You have a charitable heart, and you believe these are good people, innocent people. But you
must
remember that there are some truths that are too stark. We are all tainted by sin, and when something truly fearsome is presented to a mob weak in faith and spirit, they will not consider. They will
act
.”

“Do you imagine that these beasts are as fearful as the pestilence?”

“Random death without warning that can walk among men unseen? Perhaps the Poles here do not have enough Jews around to blame, but unquestionably, if we warned the mass of common people of the threat, we would have dozens of ‘wolfbreed’ corpses. The man who doesn’t shave well, the leper, the man who
lives alone on the hill and goes out too often at night, the man who attends Mass less often than his neighbor, the man who once spooked a groom’s horse …”

“I see.”

“Remember, we are to protect men’s souls from this beast, as well as their lives.”

“Then when do we return to doing so?”

Heinrich glanced over Josef’s shoulder. “Go back to your bed and regain your strength. I suspect the man approaching us will lead me to an answer.”

A
fter nearly an hour of searching, Telek found Brother Heinrich talking to one of the members of his Order in a courtyard by the outer wall. He had just arrived with the Duke, the bishop, and their combined entourage, which was probably still sorting itself out in front of the main fortress. The Duke had a score of men with him, and the bishop had ten of his own. Between the two they had brought three wagons of supplies, chests, and clothing.

It would probably be late evening before every horse was stabled and every man quartered.

However, his uncle had made a point of saying that Brother Heinrich needed to be present the moment the bishop was ready to receive him, and the Duke had been no less adamant. As soon as he found Heinrich, he took him back to the great hall, where Siemowit III was to hold court. The crowd was already assembling, and Telek left his charge with a trio of the bishop’s men.

With Heinrich in their care, he went off to find his uncle. Instead, his uncle found him, grabbing his arm as he left the great hall and pulling him into a corridor that led toward the kitchens.

“Uncle?”

“I pray your travels were uneventful?” Bolesław said as he led
Telek down the corridor, away from the mass of people gathering to greet the Duke and begin the business of the court.

“Yes,” he said. “But why are you heading toward the kitchens?”

“Because, nephew, stealth and subtlety are not your strong suits.”

“Pardon me?” They passed by the arch leading to the kitchens, from which came the smells of cookfires, roasting meat, and baking bread as a dozen servants worked at long tables preparing the grand feast that would be the Duke’s welcoming meal.

“I have a task for you, and it would be best that our German guests not see you do it.” He stopped Telek in front of a narrow spiral staircase. “Forgive me,” he said, “but I probably should ask your willingness.”

“Whatever you wish of me. You know that, Uncle.”

Bolesław slapped him on the back. “No harm in the asking.” He pointed up the stairs. “If you go up here, the third door opens across from the first guest chamber. Do try to avoid being seen entering and leaving.”

“And what do you want me to do in Brother Heinrich’s chambers?”

“Take advantage of your schooling. There is a book there, not a missal or Bible, I think, and I would care to have some idea of its contents.”

“You wish me to take it?”

Bolesław shook his head. “Remember, I said
subtlety
. What use is going in without being seen if he knows you were there the moment he looks for his missing tome? No, go in, disturb his rooms as little as possible, and read as much of the book as you can. Court and feast will occupy the Germans for the remainder of the day, should they wish it or not. You should have time to make good sense of the book’s contents, if not read the whole of it.”

“And if I cannot find this book, or if it is not in a language I understand?”

Bolesław shrugged. “Then slip out and return to the court. If I see you, I’ll know what happened, and we shan’t speak of it again.” He left Telek by the stairs. “I must return before business begins, so get to work.”

Telek watched his uncle disappear down the servants’ corridor, leaving him alone. He sighed and looked up the stairway. He wondered what suspicion had taken hold of his uncle’s fancy this time, or if in the absence of plot and intrigue, his uncle felt the need to provide some. But Telek served at the pleasure of the Wojewoda Bolesław, and should his lord ask him to rifle a monk’s library, so be it.

He climbed the stairway and eased open the door across from the German’s guest apartments. No one was in evidence along the corridor.

He crept through the door and gave his uncle silent credit for choosing the right time for such skulduggery. Right now, all the nobles would be attending the Duke’s court, and all the servants would be busy providing for it and the subsequent feast. The only hole Telek saw in his uncle’s plot was the possibility that someone might note his nephew’s absence.

Though Telek suspected that any inquiry would have Wojewoda Bolesław’s nephew engaged on some mundane task that wouldn’t arouse anyone’s curiosity.

He slipped into the monk’s apartments and shut the door behind him.