The Piper's Pursuit Page 7

  “Do you have any evidence?”

  She shook her head. “And I can’t tell anyone because the townspeople are all fooled by his pretense of being a righteous, benevolent mayor who spends all his time doing good for others and making the town prosper. But he suddenly has so much money he has been giving it away all over town, because he loves the people’s praise. I know the people trust me, and normally they would believe whatever I told them, but Hennek has them in the palm of his hand. And if he knew I’d told anyone he took bribes or I suspected he was stealing money, he’d harm Mother and would probably kill me. But I believe I could find some evidence. If I did, could you help me get it to the duke quickly?”

  When he didn’t answer, Katerina crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m only telling you this so you’ll go home and get help. Bring your father, your brother, and some fighting men.”

  “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

  “I didn’t know if you would stand up to Hennek or if you were perhaps in league with him. But now . . . I see that you would stand up to him, and that makes you a threat to him.”

  “So you actually think he will try to kill me?”

  “Yes, because he doesn’t want you speaking to your father. You don’t know him as I do. He is capable of any ungodliness to get what he wants.”

  Steffan stared at her, thoughts darting through his mind. Then his stomach sank as he gripped his sword hilt. “Did Hennek hurt you? He is the one who hurt you, isn’t he?”

  Her mouth fell open slightly, then she closed it and her cheeks turned red. “If you don’t want to listen to what I’m telling you, it is your choice. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  So she wouldn’t admit it, but now he knew. His blood boiled. What a despicable man Hennek was. Steffan wouldn’t rest until Hennek was stripped of the title of Bürgermeister.

  “Perhaps I am overreacting, but I don’t think so. Hennek will never come right out and say it, but you will be able to discern his hostility if you listen carefully. He tries to sound friendly and generous and make you think he is good, but there is malice behind his loud jests and laughter.”

  Her words brought to mind the strange sensation he’d felt earlier that there was aggression behind Hennek’s jolly demeanor and words.

  “I have to at least go back and get my horse and belongings.” Maybe he was in danger, but he had fought real battles, not to mention training as a knight all his life. He wasn’t about to be so afraid of the Bürgermeister that he would sneak or run away.

  Was she so concerned about him?

  She took a step toward the main street, and he laid a light hand on her arm. She flinched and looked up at him.

  “You didn’t answer when I asked if Hennek hurt you. You are not safe there with him either.”

  Her jaw hardened. Finally she said, “My longest knife is always by my side, even when I sleep. Anyone who tries to hurt me will regret it. And Hennek knows that.”

  “What did he do?”

  “I will not speak of it with you.” She was already striding away, turning onto the main street.

  “Katerina, wait.”

  He put his hand on her shoulder. For the first time she didn’t flinch, she only stood very still.

  Her shoulder was surprisingly thin and fragile. He made sure his grasp was gentle as he bent slightly so he could look her in the eye.

  “You and your mother are not safe with Hennek. Come with me to Hagenheim. My father will—”

  “I won’t leave my people. At least fifty of Hamlin’s children have been either killed or stolen away, and if they are alive, I must find them.” She lowered her voice to a fierce whisper. “I cannot leave until I discover what happened to them.”

  She was so determined, so courageous.

  He’d never wanted to kiss a woman so much in his life.

  Eight

  Katerina’s insides trembled at Steffan’s warm, gentle hand on her shoulder. But she wouldn’t let him know how much she longed to have someone to trust, how she longed to trust Steffan. How had she become so attached to this man in so short a time? Men were not trustworthy. How daft would she have to be to fall into the same trap her mother had fallen into?

  But she was practically holding her breath to see what he would say next.

  “I am not leaving without you.” He leaned slightly toward her. “I shall stay close until we both find out what is happening here.”

  Did he mean that? Or was he only making her think he cared and wanted to protect her? She would start to trust him, would let down her guard with him, and then what? If he was a good man, Hennek would kill him, but if he wasn’t . . . he would only hurt her.

  Fear gripped her, rising into her throat and cutting off her breath. Her voice was hoarse as she choked out, “I don’t need your help.” She hurried away down the cobblestone street.

  But what if she was wrong? Her stomach sank at the brusque way she treated him after he had said such protective things. But her fear was stronger. It kept her feet moving at a fast pace and her head from turning to see if he was coming after her.

  When he didn’t appear at her side as he had before, her eyes stung. Was she actually what her stepfather had called her years ago, when she was too young to understand what he was talking about? “A temptress and a cruel minx.”

  After talking to her priest, she realized she was not a temptress at all, nor was she cruel. But the words seemed stuck in her mind forever.

  Steffan, although he’d had opportunities, had not tried to take advantage of her and had not called her names or blamed her for his own depravity. Instead, he had stepped in front of the beast to protect her. Now he was offering to stay close to her to once again protect her.

  Her heart pounded against her chest. What should she do? Did she dare to trust him? Fear tried to choke her again as two opposite feelings warred inside her. She stopped, turned around.

  Steffan was still standing where she had left him. He was staring back at her.

  She took a step toward him and her hands shook. She took another step and another, her knees wobbling. Bad things will happen to you if you let a man help you. You will hate yourself for trusting him.

  But she didn’t stop. She walked all the way back to him, her heart pounding, stealing her breath.

  What would she do if he smirked? Laughed at her? She would feel like a fool.

  He didn’t move, and his expression was sober as he watched her come closer and closer. She sucked in a wispy breath.

  “It is dangerous.” She stopped and forced another breath into her tight chest. “But if you wish to come back with me . . . to help me discover what is happening to the children . . . I would be glad of the help.”

  His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Good. Yes.” He straightened his shoulders. “I would like to help.”

  Their eyes locked for a moment, until Kat had to look away, afraid he could tell that she was having trouble breathing. She said a quick, silent prayer that God would keep him safe from Hennek.

  Steffan fell in beside her as they started walking back toward the home she’d shared with her mother and Hennek since she was eight years old.

  Would she soon be free of Hennek? Of his cruel ways of oppressing Mother and his even more cruel threats? If God was willing, she would make sure she and her mother never had to cower to him again. She would find a house for her mother and her, and she would provide for them herself. They could live off the game she shot, and perhaps Mother could be a clerk in a shop. Kat also had a hidden stash of money in her room that she got from selling small game, although it wasn’t enough yet for a house. The biggest obstacle would be convincing her mother to leave him.

  But what about Steffan? She’d always prided herself on never trusting anyone. And yet she was already beginning to trust Steffan—a little. Even though she’d probably regret it. Well, she would never let him take advantage of or use her. Not now. Not ever.

  The sight of Johannes hurrying dow
n the street toward them jolted her out of her thoughts. Katerina went to meet him.

  “Fräulein, you said to let you know if Bridda said anything else.”

  “Yes, of course. Did she say something?”

  “I asked her where she has been, and she said, ‘In the mine.’”

  “In the mine?”

  “I asked her what she was doing there, and she said she was digging rocks. I tried to ask her what kind of rocks and where this place was, but she started to cry and wouldn’t talk anymore. Do you know what it means?”

  Katerina shook her head. “No.”

  Her mind raced. Katerina didn’t know of any mines in this area. There were some silver, iron ore, and copper mines in the Harz Mountains, beyond Hagenheim, as well as in the Black Forest, but those were far away.

  Kat asked, “Do you know where the closest mine is to Hamlin?”

  Johannes shook his head. “Near Keiterhafen there are silver and coal mines, but they have been abandoned for years. She’s so young. What could she know of mines and mining?”

  “I don’t know, but don’t tell another soul about this, not until we figure this out.”

  Johannes nodded. “I understand. And I shall let you know if she says anything else.”

  “Thank you.” Steffan nodded to the man. “We appreciate it.”

  Since when had she and Steffan become “we”?

  * * *

  Steffan made an effort to smile and look pleased when Hennek met them just inside the front door, but his skin crawled and his hand itched to draw his sword when he thought about this man hurting Katerina.

  “Get the arm patched up?” Hennek asked. Before Steffan could answer, he said, “We have the best healer in the Holy Roman Empire. If Frau Windmoeller tells me what herbs to take for an ailment, I know they will work like nothing else. I daresay you have no one whose remedies are as good as hers, even in Hagenheim.”

  Hennek was eyeing Steffan and Katerina by turns, but Steffan did not answer him.

  “God must have been watching out for you two today. That beast has killed so many before you, it’s strange that you were able to slay it so easily.”

  “It was not easy,” Steffan said, “and no one else had Katerina to accompany them with her crossbow.”

  He glanced her way to see how she would take his compliment. A look of pleasure flickered across her face, but it was fleeting.

  “Oh yes, our Katerina always carries her crossbow. I’m surprised she hasn’t shot herself.” He laughed. “Women are given to strong emotions. You had best take care she doesn’t mistake you for another wolf and shoot you.” He laughed again, this time with no amusement in his eyes, as if his mind was on something else.

  “So, how is the arm?” Hennek said, motioning for Steffan to sit while he ignored Katerina. She, who looked as if she was used to being ignored, propped herself against the wall and watched.

  “The arm is well.” He’d never let on how bad it hurt.

  “Did Frau Windmoeller say anything about how she thought it would heal? Did she foresee any problems? Because, you know, the last man who was attacked died of a putrid infection.”

  Steffan felt a chill run down his spine at the suspicion that that was exactly what Hennek hoped would happen to him. “I should heal well.”

  “I am glad. Come. We shall have our midday meal together. God is always among Christian men who are eating and drinking in honor of Him. In the meantime, I’ve sent my men to examine it. If it’s the Beast of Hamlin, we’ll parade it through town, and you and my daughter will be lauded and praised.”

  They went into the dining hall, Katerina trailing silently behind, her eyes wary. He thought for a moment she might stay behind in Hennek’s little room where his books and papers were kept, but Hennek closed the door behind them and locked it, then dropped the key into his pocket.

  During the meal, Hennek repeatedly tried to get Steffan to drink the strong drink he was drinking.

  “I like this better,” Steffan said, referring to the spiced wine.

  “But it’s watered down. Try this.”

  And even though Steffan had already refused repeatedly, Hennek ordered the servant to bring him another goblet and fill it with the stronger drink.

  Steffan started to sweat. The smell of the liquor filled his senses, and it was as though he could taste it on his tongue. Memories flooded him, times when he and his friends drank, got into fights, and played pranks on people. Thankfully, he had not shamed himself as much as he might have. And yet he had done things none of the rest of his family would ever dream of doing, and it began by drinking to the point of losing control.

  From the age of sixteen, he’d liked the feeling that drinking gave him. At this moment, as the smell of it wafted to him, he became almost dizzy. He wanted it. His hand trembled to take the goblet and bring it to his lips.

  Hennek was clearly tempting him. But why? What was his intention? To get Steffan drunk and then what?

  Steffan reached out. His hand wrapped around the cup. He could drink one sip to shut Hennek up, but would he be able to stop? Hennek would only keep pushing him to drink more. Not only that, but there was Katerina . . . He didn’t want to disappoint her. If he allowed her stepfather to ply him with drink, he might lose her tenuous trust—and that trust had become a precious thing to him.

  Steffan was no longer that reckless young soldier who was willing to risk anything, to get drunk and rowdy and do mischievous deeds, to prove he wasn’t worthless.

  He could still smell it, though, and even though he wished it didn’t, it still drew him. But . . . This is not who I am.

  He pushed the goblet away, and instead took up his cup of weakened wine and drank a long gulp.

  Steffan’s eyes met Katerina’s.

  A servant entered the room and whispered in Hennek’s ear.

  Hennek barely nodded, then said loudly, “Is everyone finished? Let us see what my men have to report about the beast you killed.”

  They got up and followed Hennek to his office. Just outside stood Otto with his big, beefy arms crossed, another large man beside him. Hennek unlocked the door and they all went in.

  The hair on the back of Steffan’s neck stood up. Hennek’s expression was too smug. The big guards looked defiant.

  “What did you find, men?”

  Otto grunted, then spoke. “The animal we found dead on the side of the hill outside Hamlin was a young wolf, but not uncommonly big. It was not old enough to have killed the first victims.”

  Katerina clenched her fists at her sides. “That’s a lie. It was not a young wolf, it was two years old at least, and it was uncommonly big.” She leaned close to Otto, eyeing him with an angry scowl. “Uncommonly big.”

  “Are you calling me a liar?” Otto asked, taking a step toward Katerina.

  “Yes.”

  Steffan took a corresponding step closer to Katerina, ready to step between her and the burly giant.

  Hennek held up a hand. “There, there. It is understandable that an inexperienced woman might think a young, small wolf was the Beast of Hamlin. An understandable mistake. But, Steffan, you realized it wasn’t an uncommonly large animal, did you not?”

  “Herr Bürgermeister, I am sorry to contradict you and your men, but the beast we killed was neither young nor small.” Steffan realized it would do no good to argue. Neither Hennek nor his men would ever capitulate. However, he was not going to let Hennek taunt Katerina with a lie.

  Hennek made a show of turning his body toward his men. “We shall all go up and see the animal’s body, then.”

  Otto’s mouth opened slightly while the man beside him cleared his throat and shuffled his feet.

  “What is it, man?”

  Otto coughed and said, “We already buried it.”

  Hennek threw up his hands. “Why would you do such a thing? I don’t suppose you’d even be able to find it now, would you?” Hennek gave a slight shake of his head while staring intently at Otto, a movement so tiny
Steffan might have missed it had he not been paying such close attention to Hennek.

  Otto froze, then leaned his head back. “It was somewhere in the woods. I couldn’t tell you where we were exactly. The ground was soft all around, so we just dug a deep hole.”

  Hennek heaved a loud sigh. “Well, it can’t be helped now.” He swung his head toward Steffan. “You are satisfied, aren’t you?”

  “Satisfied?”

  “That it was not the Beast of Hamlin. It is an honest mistake. The wolves in Hagenheim are probably not as big and strong as our wolves. Your wolves are used to a more mountainous region. All that climbing up and down the Harz Mountains will have kept them small and wiry.”

  Steffan nearly snorted at the ridiculous explanation. But he bit back the sarcastic reply that jumped to mind and merely said, “Perhaps so.”

  Hennek must want them to doubt their own judgment. He was playing some kind of game, almost as if he were being deceptive for no reason. But there must be a reason, and Steffan was more determined than ever to discover what it was.

  Katerina’s eyes were narrowed and her chest was rising and falling, but she stayed still and quiet. She was staring hard at Hennek’s desk. Steffan followed her gaze and saw a large sheet of parchment, about ten hand-lengths long, lying across the surface.

  An idea started forming in Steffan’s mind.

  Hennek chuckled. “You two thought you killed the famed Beast of Hamlin.” He guffawed loud and long, his head thrown back.

  Katerina took the chance to sidle closer to his desk.

  Steffan started moving toward the door. As he’d hoped, Hennek stepped that way as well, Otto and the other guard following.

  Steffan stood in front of Hennek and leaned toward him. “What is your theory about this Beast of Hamlin, Lord Mayor? What I mean is, do you think it is a real creature? Or perhaps some demon spirit that has descended on Hamlin? Is it killing some and spiriting others away?”

  “A demon spirit, you say?” Hennek’s brows lowered, then raised. “I would not be surprised! But no, a demon spirit is not the culprit. These people are being taken and eaten by this enormous beast. There are witnesses. It is an accepted fact.”