“And they’ll likely remember me,” interrupted Benedetto. “They’ll know I played to distract them.”
The group was quiet. “So how do we disguise you?” grumbled Rudolf.
The cellar fell utterly silent until Maria chimed, “All lords have minstrels! Would be common for one to be here, too! They won’t remember your face.”
“She’s right, Benedetto. You should be safe if you claim to sing for the lord’s court.”
“And the rest of us?” chimed Helmut. “Ought we not hide here as well?”
“No, methinks Dorothea was wrong,” Heinrich said. “The army will search the burgher-house from top to bottom. If they find us here, they’ll know. We ought spread into the town and hide amongst the folk.”
“We’ve the servants to fear,” said Helmut. “Others may know we’ve come, but only the servants know we’ve new clothes.”
“The servants are few and loyal to the house. None would confess, I swear it,” said Friederich. “I’ve lived here, I know. But the priest surely knows. He didn’t trust Dorothea’s message … I heard him tell a novice that something was amiss, and he’s oft seen spyin’ about the gardens.”
“Then it’s the priest,” muttered Heinrich.
Maria asked nervously, “But are you sure?”
“Ja. I know he does,” Friederich continued angrily. “I can feel when he’s about, and I felt his prying eyes at first meal. Perhaps he was listening under the windows.”
Frieda had been hovering over the unconscious Alwin. “Thank God, he’s breathing evenly, Pieter. You might have killed him!”
Pieter shrugged. “There are some advantages to knowing one’s weakness, my dear girl. But I confirmed the condition of his soul to give me peace if I was wrong.” The priest smiled. “Either way, be assured Alwin would have been in a good way.”
Frieda shook her head in disbelief as Wil and Heinrich summoned Pieter to come close. After a few moments of consultation, Wil turned to the group now gathered around the candle. Above, muffled screams could be heard, and more horses thundered through the streets. “My father is right. We cannot all stay here. So, we’ve a plan. We’ll hide Alwin behind those sacks, and we’ll leave Benedetto here to watch over him. The rest of us will spread into the town and hide with other townsfolk as if we are one of them. Pieter will linger near the gate; none should bother with an old priest. When he thinks you can pass safely, he’ll make himself easy to see. So when you see him plainly, get through the gate and beyond the walls. Pieter will keep an accounting.”
“And if they close the gate?” asked Helmut.
The cellar was quiet.
Pieter stroked his beard. “Then we hide until the day it opens.”
Heinrich nodded. “Now listen. If you are challenged by anyone, do not act like a fugitive, else you’ll be taken as one.” His voice became firm. “You know who you are: free travelers … so act like it.”
“Just use your wits and get out as you can,” said Wil. “Pieter says the road north takes a hard turn at the base of a mountain about a half league away. He says he thinks there is a water pool to the east side of the highway. We’ll meet there. Now, I’ll keep m’wife with me. M’father’s to take Maria. Would be good for you others to stay apart.” Wil peered through the heavy shadows and took a deep breath. “When the time is right, I’ll come back for Alwin and the minstrel. So is it clear?”
The company nodded soberly. “Godspeed, everyone,” murmured Rudolf.
Wil took Frieda’s hand and looked tenderly at his sister. “Fear not. All will be well.”
Chapter Fourteen
RELIEF
Dorothea’s heart pounded as the town’s priest drew near. “He’s … he’s a mad fool,” she stammered to the Templar. “He has visions of virgins attending him at his bed, and he thinks snakes slide out his nose at Hallowmas. Whatever he has to say is a lie or some fantastic deceit. If you want justice, Brother Knight, do not listen to his words.”
Brother Cyrill said nothing. He was distracted by the vile behavior of Sir Roland’s men, who were continuing their savage rampage of bloodletting and rape. As the priest called out, he paid him little notice.
“Brother,” panted the priest, “we’ve Cathari by the inn’s stable and the black—”
The man did not finish. An arrow, seemingly from nowhere, flew and struck the priest in the center of his back. He gasped and fell forward to the ground, where he flopped about with one arm reaching futilely for the shaft. The Templar whirled about, scanning every shadow until another arrow hissed through the air and penetrated his thigh. Screaming, the knight fell backward. Dorothea turned and ran as a company of brown-robed sergeants stormed toward their fallen captain.