Quest of Hope(179)

Heinrich set his jaw, hard. He narrowed his one eye. “I am father to two of them. The leader, the one with long, blond hair named Wil, and his younger brother, a cheerful red-headed lad named Karl.”

The woman looked at Heinrich’s own red-gray curls and smiled kindly. “Please, she said, follow me.” As the group made their way through the muddy streets of the noisy town, the woman introduced herself as Dorothea, the daughter of Bernard, Lord of Olten. She went on to explain how Pieter had healed her father from the torment of a fouled tooth and how the old priest had outwitted him in the barter!

Heinrich smiled. He could imagine that.

A loud, brash man emerged from the doorway of a rich man’s house. It was Lord Bernard. “Ha, daughter! Another shaggy scoundrel? Look at him!”

Heinrich bowed as Dorothea introduced him. Bernard was smiling despite the fact that his summer sandals were sunk in the mud from the terrible storm. He rested his hands on the folds of a long, red doublet and said, “So, you are the sire of two of the lads. Ha, a braver company I’ve ne’er laid eyes on! And that scallywag Pieter!” The man tilted his head and roared a hearty laugh. “He outwitted this sly fox like none before. But he was true to his word … my tooth is cured. Now, stranger, how may we serve you?”

“M’lads are gone?”

“Aye … a’fore the storm.” The man’s voice saddened. He turned to the skull-capped secretary standing close. “Fetch them.”

As the little man scurried away, Lord Bernard explained. “The company left late in the day they came. I sent them with provisions enough.” Bernard turned and greeted two lads as they approached. One had a splint on his wrist and the other on his leg. He laid his hand atop the head of the one leaning on a crutch. “These two came wandering in the day following. Tell him, boys, tell him what you know.”

The boy identified himself as Jon and told how the camp had been washed away in a surprise flood by the Aare River less than a half-day’s march to the south. “A few of us was drowned and Solomon went lost. Wil made us two come back here. The others wanted to keep on.”

Heinrich listened carefully. “And Karl?”

“Good,” answered the younger one, named Friederich.

Heinrich closed his eye in relief. “And Pieter?”

“Spared, but hurt.”

“How many days ahead are they?”

The boys shrugged, but Bernard answered, “Only three … you can surely catch them.”

Heinrich nodded. “I leave at once.” He turned to Jon again. “Are they taking the main roadways?”

The boys both shook their heads. “Sometimes. Pieter knows the ways. He usually keeps us to the sheep trails when he can; he says the roadways have danger.”

Bernard furrowed his brows thoughtfully. “I heard some say they wanted to be in Burgdorf by the Feast of the Assumption, four days from now. He could surely make it there by then, even with injured children. From there they will probably go to Bern for more supplies, then turn directly south and follow the lake roads to the Grimsel Pass.”

“Bern again,” grumbled Heinrich.

Dorothea was thinking too. “Father, why not the valley of the Emmental. It is more direct to the Grimsel, it has many villages to help them, and—”

“Nay, daughter. They knew of pestilence in the villages and Pieter knows Bern is filled with plenty.” Bernard’s tone was firm and had the added weight of confidence. He looked at Heinrich. “If you miss them in Burgdorf, press on to Bern. You’re close, man. God go with you!”





Chapter 25



THE FINAL PURSUIT





Heinrich left at once. It was near nightfall on the twelfth of August, and he desperately wanted to be in Burgdorf before the feast day. He had been told the town was about fourteen leagues away and the roadway was poor, but with some effort he should be able to get there in two days. So, the anxious man hurried on heavy legs for an hour or so before collapsing in darkness along the banks of the Aare River.

He awoke to a sunny dawn and reached into his satchel for some salted pork and a bit of smoked herring. The river was still carrying debris from the recent flood and was littered with piles of broken branches and brush that had collected in its shallows. The man stared and shook his head sadly for the children who had been lost. He rose slowly and stretched, then drew a deep breath and began his journey upstream.

Heinrich hadn’t traveled more than a furlong, however, when he stopped suddenly. “I wonder.” he said and then he heard the sound again. Heinrich trotted along the muddy bank following the whine of a dog until he came upon a webwork of river clutter. In the center of the shadowy labyrinth of tree limbs and bramble was snared a desperate dog.