Herwin nodded.
Katharina’s heart raced. Her spirit soared, yet she lowered her eyes. “I did not believe it to be true. I thought Heinrich to have been long since dead.”
“So did we all. I still do not know his story.”
Katharina stood motionless, fighting tears and swallowing hard against the knot in her throat. Then, no longer able to dam the flood, she burst into tears and buried her face in her hands. Father and son looked at one another in alarm. “Katharina?”
“I miss him so, Herwin. I have missed him for so very long!”
Herwin was confused. “Who?”
Katharina looked sadly into the aging man’s face. Then with a voice tainted by shame, she whispered, “Heinrich.”
Herwin did not answer. He held her kindly as his mind whirled. He had always respected Katharina, and he had been a good friend to her over the many years she had lived in Weyer. The woman had endured much under the heavy hand of her husband. She was known for her charity—sometimes despised for it. He knew she had spent many an hour in old Emma’s gardens, and he knew that Heinrich had a soft place in his heart for her.
“No, Herwin, it is not as you may have heard. Heinrich was a faithful husband to Marta,” said Katharina. “It was I who longed for him.”
Herwin nodded sadly. Methinks he longed for you as well, he thought. He lifted her chin and smiled. “Good woman, I know Heinrich’s heart, and I know it was held fast by his duty. And you were a faithful wife to a monster. I oft wished I was a younger, stronger man when I’d hear him beat you.” He brushed her cheek lightly. “I see the purple of a bruise lingers even after he is gone.”
Katharina nodded and pulled away. She sat at the table and dried her eyes. “I must deal with my shame and bury my husband. But tell me this: did Heinrich murder him as I am told?”
“Nay, child! He only sought to defend his son. None could know what the reeve and his deputies were about. I believe Heinrich thought they were going to kill them both. My son, here, was knocked to the ground and young Wil wrestled down. See here. The lad lost his dagger in the fray.
“But Heinrich fought against shadows, not faces. He thrust his sword only when he thought his son’s life was in peril. Your husband tried to kill him, but Heinrich struck hard and fast. No, sister, he did not know, and methinks he still does not know whom he slayed.”
Relieved, Katharina closed her eyes. “Thanks to you, Herwin. Oh, dear God, I prayed that if it were truly Heinrich, he did not know whose life he was taking.” She looked at the man again. “It … it was he who beat my husband to near death just before he went away.”
Herwin and Wulf both smiled. “Good for him!”
Katharina smiled timidly. She remembered her secret joy the day Ludwig was found bloodied, bruised, and unconscious in the village latrine. “And where is Heinrich now?”
“He was taken to Villmar, but I fear they’ll be bound over to the guard at Runkel today. I would expect a quick trial—”
“And a hanging,” Katharina added firmly. “Were they alone?”
Herwin thought carefully. “Well, they came to my home alone, but soon after they were taken, two companions came here.”
“Who were they?” asked Katharina.
“The lad Tomas returned from crusade and also Brother Blasius … now called Alwin, the Templar who is hunted for treason. Do you remember him?”
“Aye,” replied Katharina. “He and Heinrich were always close.”
Wulf’s wife had been quietly spinning in the corner. “There are other companions as well.”
“Are you sure?”
“Quite. Wil mentioned his wife.”
“Then we’ve allies somewhere!” exclaimed Katharina hopefully.
“Allies?”
“Ja. Others who’ll dare help them. If you were they, what would you do?”
Wulf’s wife answered, “I’d come to the village to see where they are!”
“Indeed!” cried Katharina. “Have you seen strangers?”
“Nay, we’ve not been about at all. We’ve been grieving the moment.”
“Well then, Herwin, we needs move through the village—and quickly.”
“You need to bury your husband.”
For Katharina, that obligation seemed suddenly like an annoying interference. Ludwig had, indeed, been a monster to her for all their married life. Nevertheless, she had spent a sleepless night feeling shame for the unspeakable relief that followed his death. The man had beaten her, humiliated her, and had once kicked her so hard that she lost a daughter in childbirth. It had been her first and only babe. The woman nodded in resignation. “Yes, I know.”