With hugs to Herwin and his household, Katharina hurried away from his hut and toward the church, where she hoped to find Father Albert. Her path took her along the Oberbrechen highway and past the sheepfold. She walked briskly, a woman on a mission, but as she passed Arnold’s hovel, she paused. If any would know of the manor’s business, it would be Arnold, she thought. She looked at his closed door and took a deep, steadying breath.
“I said I’d help, but your plan is mad,” grumbled Arnold. “Humph! I paid that old Jew two pounds of silver for his story. Now it wonders me if I’ve wasted m’money.”
“Heinrich must have known that you could use the information.”
“Ja, ja. If I had the document in m’hands, I could work a miracle to be sure. But it is in the prior’s chamber, and the man always locks his door!”
Pieter was insistent. “Now hear me again. Our little Friederich has fingers as nimble as a young seamstress. I’ve seen him pluck coins from a pouch under the nose of a brute, and he does it with a smile!”
Friederich grinned mischievously.
“You said you were told exactly where it was put,” blurted Tomas.
Arnold furrowed his brow. “Aye, but perhaps the old Jew lied. He wanted a full mark for that bit of added information, but we settled on a shilling.”
Pieter shrugged. “Have you been swindled often?”
“Nay. I usually have a nose for it.”
“So, why are you worried now?”
“A Jew bettered me once before.”
Pieter thought for a moment. “Well, we’ve really no other way. A bluff won’t do. We need the thing in hand. Methinks we’ll have to trust him.”
Arnold grumbled. “Aye, but even if this madness works, it will only help Heinrich. The charge against Wil is too far spread. The village wants vengeance for Marta, the monks for Lukas and their guard. No one would dare make a deal for it.”
“But we’re told that the deaths of Lukas and the guard are mere suspicions.”
“Aye, but the priest speaks of dreams and visions. Herwin told you right, Tomas. Such words from a priest are not easily challenged. We’d need at least one witness, maybe two to say the contrary. And how, my friends, do we prove the man had no such dreams?”
Pieter was quiet. At last he struck his fist on Arnold’s table. “I don’t know! I cannot think so quickly anymore!”
Frieda took Arnold’s arm. “Sir, when we stir the pot, the rabbit rolls first. Then the turnips rise, then peas, then onions, and then yet more. I say we turn our rabbit and see what fortune it brings.”
Arnold nodded thoughtfully. “Well said, fair lady. Well said.” He turned to Friederich, then to Pieter. “It is agreed then. Firstly, let us think on the plan for Heinrich. Methinks—”
A rap sounded on the door, and the collaborators froze. Arnold furrowed his brows and stared at his guests. Pieter shook his head. “None of ours,” he whispered.
Arnold grabbed a stout stick and approached the door slowly. He then flung it open and stared angrily at the slight form of Katharina standing before him. “You!”
The woman bowed. Arnold stared at her for a moment, then looked about to see if others were watching. “What do you want?”
“I need to talk to you, sir … about Heinrich.”
Arnold’s eyes nearly popped. “Yet another!” he growled. “Go away. He killed your husband, and he’ll pay the price.” He slammed the door and spun around. “The widow! The widow of the man Heinrich killed.”
Another knock sounded on the door. This time Arnold flung it open with a loud curse. “I told you … now go away!” he cried.
Katharina ground her shoes into the dust. “No, Herr Arnold. Heinrich did not murder my husband. He killed him in self-defense.”
Arnold peered into the woman’s beautiful, fiery green eyes. “What is this about?”
“My husband was a beast. I submitted to him, but, as God is my witness, I oft wanted him dead. Now he is, and I want to help Heinrich.”
Arnold stared at the woman for another moment, then grabbed her by the arm and quickly yanked her through the doorway. As he slammed his door, he shoved her toward the others. The group was wary and unsure of the woman’s true intentions.
“You must believe me!” Katharina pleaded desperately. “I… I loved him.” She began to weep. “May God forgive me, but I loved him.”
Frieda’s heart was moved, and she touched the woman lightly on the arm.
“I knew it was a sin,” cried Katharina. “But I could not rule my heart. I was true to my husband, but I did love Heinrich so.”