Pilgrims of Promise(148)

Hagan was startled. There was to have been no accuser! He and Prior Mattias had worked this all out. Who is this fool? Hagan spat and cursed. Now, Hann, do your duty!

Surprised, Hann looked hard at Katharina and squeezed her arm. He dragged her forward, crying, “Hold! Hold fast, sir!” Hagan and the prior had wisely arranged for the unexpected. The soldier plunged through the grumbling crowd with one hand in the air. “Hold, Judge! The man … the man is innocent!”

Heinrich looked toward the voice and gasped. Katharina! Suddenly, nothing else mattered. His heart raced, and warm blood pulsed through his veins. Katharina! Countless memories flew through his mind. But when he noticed that she was being dragged along by Hann, he was filled with rage. He wanted to bound across the bailey and embrace his beloved—and he wanted to tear the soldier limb from limb.

Frieda held her breath. Wilda motioned for Helmut to lower his bow. Following orders, Hann shouted loudly. “The abbot withdraws all charges against this man. The deed was committed in self-defense.”

“Nay!” cried Horst. “Nay, I am a witness against this man. I—”

Hagan rose angrily and pointed a long, stiff finger at the complaining yeoman. “Bailiff, arrest this mad dolt for disturbing the court’s peace!” Horst was abruptly thrown to the ground and dragged away, howling loud protests. Hagan turned a red face to Heinrich. “Release this man!”

The baker was shoved forward by two men-at-arms, his eye still fastened to Katharina’s gentle face.

“Go, I say!” roared the bulge-eyed judge.

Confused, the baker nodded and then plunged into the crowded courtyard toward Katharina, who was now being dragged away from the bench and toward the center of the courtyard. The crowd jeered and pelted the man with clods of manure as he thrashed his way forward.

In the meanwhile, Alwin, always the alert knight, recognized the look on Hann’s face as the man dragged his hostage back to his position. When the deal is done, he’ll kill her! He pressed his way forward.

With the release of Heinrich, Hagan’s secretary was beside himself. He was pushing through the crowd toward the young blonde woman he assumed bore the letter. At the same time, the two soldiers Wil was watching began to move toward Frieda. The young man was ready.

But it was Wilda who brushed by the secretary in the press of the crowd and squeezed the letter into his hand. “Release the hostage and call off those two,” she hissed in his ear. “Else I’ll cast a spell on you where you stand.”

The secretary froze. He knew of Wilda and had once seen her curse a knight with a spell of madness. He nodded and abruptly waved his accomplices away.

“Now the hostage!” growled Wilda.

The clerk licked his lips nervously. “No need to hex me, witch.” He lifted his hand over the crowd so that Hann might see. “See, I’ve signaled him. Leave me be, woman.” He backed slowly away as Wilda and Frieda melted into the crowd.

It was then that little Friederich sprinted from cover and flew past the unsuspecting clerk, snatching the letter from the man’s hand. Stunned, the secretary gasped and spun around in disbelief as the scamp dashed away.

Judge Hagan had kept a distracted eye on his secretary. Now fearing some mischief, he rose and stared, unaware of Friederich’s theft. He called quietly for some Templars. His suspicious movements caught Wilda’s attention, and she looked nervously about. It is time to go! the woman thought. She raised her arm to signal her fellows.

Pieter had already led Maria close to the bridge, where he had kept a close eye on the events. Seeing Wilda’s hand raised, he squeezed his staff. “Hurry, child! We need make for the bridge and quickly.” The old man was tired. His legs bowed limply beneath him. The day had been far too much for him, and he now begged God to just let the two of them fly with angels over the walls of the stinking castle and into the safety of the clean forests by Münster.

With Solomon threatening all in their path, Maria took the old man’s hand and helped him hurry forward. She tightened her grip and pulled the perspiring, wobbling priest onto the bridge midst the milling assortment of coughing, lice-ridden peasants. The old man held the girl’s hand firmly and followed her into the safety of Runkel’s winding streets.

In the meanwhile, Heinrich was still pushing his way through the courtyard in a mad press to rescue Katharina. At last he saw her. She looked so brave to him, so beautiful. Her hair had grayed some, but it still shined under the summer sun. She was slender and graceful, he thought.

But, suddenly, the soldier began to drag her away. It was never intended that she be released. In fact, both she and Frieda were to have been seized.