The Piper's Pursuit Page 5
“Do you doubt my abilities? I’ll have you know I’m a warrior.”
“Of the German Order of Teutonic Knights, I believe you said.”
“No, not officially a Teutonic Knight, but I did some fighting for them.” He’d rather not go into that.
“Didn’t wish to take your vows and become a monk?” A wry smile twisted her pretty mouth. The Teutonic Knights were a religious order and therefore had to take a vow of celibacy.
“God has other plans for me.”
Her smile widened. “Not surprising.”
“What’s not surprising?”
“It has been my experience that dishonorable men often blame their failings on God.”
“You think I am dishonorable? Based on what?”
“You are a man. You’re arrogant. And . . . I suppose that is enough.”
Steffan knew he could be arrogant at times, but sometimes he pretended arrogance to deflect his shame at his own failings, or he pretended arrogance to elicit a laugh. But he hated that she thought him arrogant. “You misjudge me.”
She only shrugged.
“Perhaps I can stay in Hamlin long enough to change your mind about me.”
“Oh, please, don’t stay on my account.”
“And if I am the one to kill the beast . . . we’ll be getting to know each other quite well, as man and wife.”
He only said it to tease her, to make her laugh. Marriage was for people who wanted to settle down in one place and have children. And the thought of having a child filled him with dread. He didn’t like children.
Katerina suddenly turned, her fist raised, forcing him to stop. He lost his balance and nearly fell into her.
“I will kill the man who tries to wed me. Is that understood?”
“Perfectly.” He held up his hands, palms out. Her expression had changed so much, she didn’t even look like the same person who had, half an hour earlier, spoken so compassionately to the little girl and her parents.
How could he ever get her to look at him with that softened expression?
But it hit him suddenly that that fierce, hard look was fear.
“Did someone hurt you? Is that why you’d rather murder a man than marry him?”
Her expression went slack. She spun around and started walking again. But just as quickly, she spun again to face him.
“How do you dare assume anything about me? All you need to know is that I will kill the man who lays a finger on me. Including you.”
“Of course. I understand. You look quite capable of protecting yourself, and I would never touch you, or any woman, without their permission, I assure you.”
“And you will never gain my permission.”
“Understood. Forgive me for teasing you about marriage. Sometimes I try too hard to make people laugh. It is one of my many faults, and I beg you to forgive me.” He placed his hand over his heart and looked her in the eye.
Was it his imagination or did her eyes soften? He’d never know, because she turned away and marched off through the brush, crushing ferns and twigs under her feet. He followed.
When she didn’t speak, he asked, “So, do you forgive me?”
She blew out a long sigh as she walked. “Are you always so annoying? And talkative?”
“Not always.” He couldn’t help smiling. Already she was beginning to soften toward him. After all, he might not be as handsome as Wolfgang, but he could be quite charming when he wanted to be, as he had been told more than once. How could she resist him?
Perhaps he was arrogant after all.
* * *
Katerina wished she could punch the big, annoying duke’s son in the stomach and send him back where he came from. No doubt he was only entertaining himself, following her around, and he’d get tired of the game and find someone else who was more receptive.
She knew just the type of woman who would welcome his attention—those girls who laughed behind their hands when she walked by with her crossbow, pointing and giggling, protected darlings who never had to fend for themselves. Whenever a young man possessing handsome features was around, they blinked like there was something in their eyes, “accidentally” touched the man’s arm, and laughed at his weak jests. No doubt Steffan was acquainted with many of those young women, had flirted with them, and . . . more than flirted.
Ignoring him, she pulled her crossbow off her shoulder and loaded it with a metal bolt, heavier and stouter than a longbow’s wooden arrow.
“Has the beast been seen in this area?” Lord Steffan whispered.
“He attacked a man near here, the one who later died of a putrid fever.”
“How did he describe the beast?”
“He said he looked like a wolf, or a giant dog; he was unsure. He was a shop owner who rarely ventured out of the town gates and had never actually seen a wolf before.” He’d only been in the woods because he was meeting a woman who was not his wife. Stupid man’s only weapon had been his walking stick.
As they walked, Steffan was finally quiet, and she hadn’t heard Otto breaking any twigs or rustling any leaves in a while. Was he still behind them?
They were climbing the hill now, and the trees were becoming sparser, with fewer bushes and undergrowth. Very few people ventured this way anymore, not since all the reports of the Beast of Hamlin and so many people had gone missing. And yet, she saw evidence of people having recently climbed the hill on the very path they were taking, including fresh footprints, trampled leaves, and broken twigs.
Steffan stepped up beside her and bent over and picked up a bruised leaf. He looked at her and lifted a brow. “Who would be coming this way with the beast on the loose?”
Kat shrugged slightly and shook her head. She took a few more steps, Steffan just behind her. The trail was becoming rockier as it went straight up, but a newer trail, less worn, was just visible, forking off to the left. Steffan seemed to notice it the same time she did, as he bent forward and peered in that direction. He looked at her and motioned with his head.
He was smarter than she thought. How annoying.
They took the left fork, where the trees were a little more dense, and found themselves winding between tree branches and bushes. Kat was in the lead, but when a branch blocked her way, Steffan held it up to let her pass under it.
She didn’t say thank you. A tiny nudge of guilt pinched her chest. But why should she thank him? It was nothing heroic. And she didn’t want him to think she wanted him here. He was an arrogant mercenary, and she didn’t need his help.
They continued following the path as it wound around the side of the hill, coming to the far side, away from town. Then, instead of continuing up, the path started down.
Kat got a strange feeling, a prickling at the back of her neck, as if something were breathing just behind her. She turned, but only Steffan was there, slightly behind and to the side of her. Beyond him were dark, shadowy trees. The sky seemed to have become overcast, hiding the sun and making the forest even darker.
She continued forward. How had she never seen this path before? Or gone this way? It must be a very new path. A fallen tree lay up ahead. She vaguely remembered seeing it before, lying against a large boulder, half covered. But today there were other downed trees that looked to have been piled up around it, covering the boulder, if indeed her memory was correct.
The trees, though their trunks were sawed through, were still full of green leaves, as if freshly cut.
A growl erupted, loud and close. It came from the other side of the pile of trees.
Kat’s whole body tensed. She already held her crossbow at the ready, so she stopped and waited. Steffan stepped up beside her. He had drawn his sword without her hearing it.
An animal with long skinny legs stepped out from behind the pile of trees. The unusually large creature bared its teeth and hunched low, crouching and readying itself.
Steffan stepped forward as she raised her crossbow. Thankfully, he stayed well to the side so that she had a clear shot.
Six
Steffan waited as Katerina aimed her crossbow. Shoot. The enormous animal was preparing to leap at them. Shoot.
She shot, but at the same moment the animal sprang at them.
Steffan jumped in front of Katerina with his sword raised. The beast’s eyes glowed as it sailed through the air. Steffan stabbed, but his sword tip struck the animal’s shoulder instead of its heart, as its full weight crashed down on Steffan’s head and shoulders, knocking him on his back.
Sharp teeth were so close they almost touched his nose. Steffan’s left hand tightened around the wolf’s throat, holding it off as it snarled and dripped saliva on Steffan’s chin. He couldn’t pull his sword back far enough to stab the animal. He slashed and beat at the animal’s side, but the wolf heeded it not.
The wolf’s lips were drawn back, and Steffan could see every sharp fang, every grinding tooth. The creature drew back until Steffan almost lost his grip on its neck. Should he let go and hope to have enough room to stab it? But then it lunged down at him. He locked his elbow, but the animal turned its head and sank its teeth into Steffan’s forearm.
He had to let go of his sword to grip the wolf’s head, but it did not loosen its bite.
If this was how his life would end, a victim of the Beast of Hamlin . . . Poor Mother and Father. He never got to tell them he was sorry.
* * *
Katerina’s bolt missed the animal. A tight fist gripped her heart at the fatal mistake. Had Steffan really stepped in front of her? Now he was lying on the ground, grappling with the enormous beast.
She grabbed the extra crossbow bolt from her bag. Standing over the animal, she lifted the metal arrow and used it to stab the beast through the back, hopefully in its heart, while trying not to stab Steffan.
The animal’s mouth was latched onto Steffan’s arm. It didn’t let go even when she stabbed it. She grabbed the bolt sticking out of its back and pulled it out. Before she could stab it again, the beast jumped off of Steffan and whirled on her, snarling and snapping its jaws. She held the bolt, pointing out. The animal jumped at her, twisting its body to avoid her weapon, and landed on its side on the ground. It was a bit slow getting back on its feet.
In that moment Kat stabbed the creature in the shoulder, just as Steffan’s sword point came down on the back of its neck. The animal slumped to the ground and didn’t move.
Blood was running down Steffan’s arm. “Are you hurt?” he asked.
He was asking if she was hurt? She blinked, distracted by his blue eyes staring back at her.
Steffan lifted his uninjured arm and placed his hand on her shoulder.
His hand was so warm. Her heart pounded. He had stepped between her and danger. He was wounded while protecting her. She had a sudden urge to throw her arms around him.
Strange, ridiculous thought. She would never, ever put her arms around Steffan. She hated him.
Except . . . she didn’t seem to hate him anymore.
Her heart pounded against her breastbone, stealing her breath for a moment. She quickly turned away from him, shrugging the gentle hand from her shoulder.
She stared down at the wolf. With her foot she nudged the large animal and blinked away all of the confusing emotions that had been coursing through her. The animal didn’t move.
Suddenly, Kat heard a growl, a snarl that raised the hair on her arms. She glanced at Steffan. His eyes met hers, but only for a moment.
Steffan sprang forward and grabbed his sword, which was still sticking up from the base of the animal’s skull, pinning it to the ground. He pulled the weapon free and held it up in a defensive stance.
Kat snatched her crossbow off the ground and fitted the bloody arrow into the mechanism, loading it by bracing the bow on the ground with her foot as she pulled the arrow and string taut.
Kat saw the eyes before she saw the rest of the beast’s body. It stalked toward them. Kat and Steffan backed away, putting the dead beast between them and this new animal. As it came closer, Kat gasped. It was just as big and gangly as the other one. Were her eyes playing tricks on her? How could it be that there were not one but two enormous beasts? Was that why so many people had gone missing?
Steffan was retreating slowly, just as Kat was, but he kept his own body between her and the wolf, waving his sword at the creature and yelling, “Stay back! Back!”
The animal crouched, then did a crawl-step, easing carefully toward the dead wolf on the ground. It sniffed the ground next to the carcass, then made a high, whining sound. Then it turned and trotted away, looking back over its shoulder at Steffan and Kat.
They both stood staring after the animal.
“Do you think it will double back and come around from another direction?” Kat watched as Steffan lowered his sword, his shoulders relaxing.
“I don’t think so, but we should go just in case.”
Once again, Steffan had placed himself between her and danger.
“I probably should have shot at it while I had the chance,” Katerina said. Why had she not? She must have been so shocked she wasn’t thinking.
“I’m just glad we lived to tell the tale.” Steffan looked at her, then down at his bleeding arm.
She forced a no-nonsense tone. “We need to see about that wound. Do you have any bandages?”
He shook his head. “It’s not bad. I’ve seen much worse.”
He probably had. He had two scars on his face, one below his eye and one above. Somehow they didn’t seem to detract from his handsomeness. But outward beauty did not matter. Handsome men could be just as dastardly as the ugly ones.
But then she remembered the man who died from his wounds after being attacked by the wolf. Would Steffan’s wound also become putrid?
“We must get you to a healer. Come.”
She retrieved her other arrow—the one that she had shot at the beast and missed. When she came back, Steffan was still staring down at the animal.
“There’s something about it.” He squatted beside the mangled animal. “It doesn’t look like a normal wolf. Or a normal anything.” He stretched out one of its legs. “It’s so large, it must be the Beast of Hamlin. And yet the second one looked exactly like it.”
Kat knelt on the other side of it. “It’s a wolf. Look at its head. But you’re right. It doesn’t look normal. The legs are longer and the body is bigger than any other wolf I’ve seen, but it’s also so skinny.”
“As if it was starving. Maybe that’s why it was so aggressive. But why would it be starving? There are plenty of hares and squirrels around these woods and fields.”
“And rats.” Hundreds and hundreds of rats. “But the rats all seem to be in town.”
“You live in a strange place, Katerina Grymmelin.”
“My name is not Grymmelin.” Katerina’s body tensed at hearing Hennek’s surname applied to her.
“Oh, yes. Forgive me.” He looked chagrined.
“My name is Katerina Ludken. And I thank you for . . . not letting the wolf . . . that is . . .” Why was it so difficult to say, “Thank you for saving my life”? All the breath had left her lungs. She just couldn’t.
Finally she said, “Thank you for helping me kill the wolf.” There. If he turned out to be a wolf himself, she wouldn’t hate herself for thanking him, as he had helped her kill it.
Steffan turned all his attention on her and even leaned toward her, over the wolf’s body. “You are welcome for me stepping in front of the wolf to protect you.”
“And you are welcome for me keeping the wolf from gnawing off your arm by stabbing it with my crossbow bolt.” She glared, daring him to argue with her.
“You aren’t going to acknowledge that I sacrificed myself to save you, are you?” He widened his eyes and let his mouth hang open.
She clenched her teeth. She couldn’t discern if he was making a jest or in earnest, but either way, he was throwing it up at her, an
d it was obnoxious.
His lips curved only the tiniest bit, and his eyes were laughing. “You know, I could tell your stepfather that I killed the beast. Then he—”
“Then he what?”
“Well, he might tell me I can marry you.”
If she’d ever wished she could shoot crossbow bolts from her eyes, it was now. “I will never marry you, and there isn’t a priest in Hamlin who would force me.”
“Never?” He laid his right hand, the uninjured one, against his heart. “You wound me.”
Kat huffed. He was so irritating. “I didn’t wound you, but you are wounded, so let us get back before you bleed out.”
Her hands were starting to shake, a late reaction to the terror of the beast attacking them as they fought for their lives. But she had no intention of letting Steffan see her hands shaking or any other indication that she felt any effects from the attack, so she started down the path at a faster pace than when they’d walked up.
Now that Steffan was behind her and couldn’t see her face, she let herself remember him jumping in front of her as the beast leapt at her. Her heart beat faster just thinking about it. Probably only because she was surprised the irritating man would do something so selfless. But that was not true, and she knew it. It was more because she’d longed for, even needed someone to protect her so many times in the past, but no one ever had. Instead, when men had tried to harm them, she’d been the only one to protect her mother and herself. And it sent such a strong feeling through her—she wasn’t sure what to call it—to have someone protect her, even if it was Steffan.
She should not think of it anymore.
But her conscience nudged her that she had actually treated him ungraciously and had not thanked him as she should have for saving her.
Perhaps later, after his wound had been treated, she would. But how could she thank him without being overwhelmed by that strange feeling again? And he was so arrogant, he would probably get the wrong impression of her and would think she had romantic intentions toward him.
Her thoughts were warring inside her when Steffan said, “I thank you, Katerina, for stabbing that animal with your arrow.”