Quest of Hope(37)
Reeve Lenard’s voice roared with the first light of dawn. “Where’s my dog? Someone’s cut the rope! We’ve a thief!” The man stormed along the empty footpaths as sleepy villagers poked their heads out-of-doors. “’Ave you scrumped m’dog?” Lenard blustered at one flustered neighbor. “Nay? And what of you?” he shouted as he turned to another.
Heinrich paled in his bed. Effi looked at him, suspiciously. She leaned close to his ear and whispered, “Did you?”
Heinrich opened his mouth, then shut it again. If he told her yes, she’d likely be punished for not telling Baldric. If he told her no, he’d be lying—another sin to be set to his account.
Effi persisted. “Did you loose his dog?”
Heinrich set his jaw and closed his eyes. “Just hush!”
Baldric stormed to the door. “What’s the noise out there?” He turned to the children now sitting straight-backed and fearful against the cold wall. “Something’s afoot! I can smell it. You, Herwin, what’s about?”
Herwin answered slowly as the church bells rang prime. He poked at the hearth coals. “Methinks Lenard’s dog’s been scrumped.” He cast an unwise glance at Heinrich. The glance did not go unnoticed.
Baldric came across the room in two bounding strides and grabbed the boy by the throat. “What can y’tell me of this?”
Terrified, Heinrich fought tears. Dare I lie? His mind raced.
“Well, boy? Have y’no tongue?”
“I …well—”
“Mein Gott! Y’little bastard whelp! Y’son of demons! Thief! If your grandpapa could know this he’d die again.” Baldric lifted Heinrich off the floor and tossed him across the room. He charged at the frightened lad and slapped him about the face and head, screaming oaths and cursing until Herwin grabbed the man’s shoulder. At the touch, Baldric slammed his fist into Herwin’s face, knocking the thin young man backward and onto the floor. Effi cried and bravely stood between her brother and uncle. But, with a quick swat of the back of his huge hand, the little girl went toppling across the room and fell onto little brother Axel cowering against the wall.
Heinrich, now bloodied and shaking, crouched with his arms protecting his head. Baldric grabbed the lad by his hair. “Come with me!” he roared. “We’ve needs see the reeve!”
Heinrich yelped as Baldric dragged him out of the hut and across the footpaths to Lenard’s hovel. When they arrived, Baldric lifted the boy’s face close to his own. “You have shamed me! You have broke the code; you’ve shamed yourself and your kin. You are dung to me now, can y’hear me? Dung!”
Heinrich wanted to vomit. The man’s heated breath was foul and his words were worse. The only comfort the poor boy had was the memory of Lenard’s grateful dog bolting down the village path.
“Lenard! Here’s your thief. Take the little bastard and do as y’will.”
Lenard turned purple with rage. “You? What sort of low and worthless bit of swine Scheisse are you? I’ve a mind to beat you senseless, you—”
A tap on the arm from his wife interrupted him. She leaned her face upward and whispered to him. “Aye,” grumbled Lenard. He took Heinrich by an ear and gave it a good twist. The boy howled. “I ought whip where y’stand, thief! Ach, m’Frau says we ought call the priest so’s we not sin in this.” He pointed to the circle of villagers now staring at him. “You … aye, you, fetch Father Johannes. The rest of you take a good look at the village thief! He sneaked into m’house whilst I slept and cut loose m’dog!”
Heinrich was humiliated as the village scoffed and mocked him. Little did he know how grateful many secretly were! A few suddenly accused him of other larcenies and losses, some throwing clumps of mud and small stones at the boy. Heinrich hid his face behind his arms and peeked fearfully between them at the taunting faces until his eyes fell upon good Emma and faithful Ingelbert, brave Richard and little Effi. Each of these pleaded with the others for mercy. At last, they elbowed their way to the lad’s side and stood with Heinrich until Father Johannes arrived with his newly assigned novice, Pious.
The priest huddled with Baldric and Lenard while the hayward dispersed the crowd to the fields. As the men discussed the boy’s fate, Heinrich stared at the novice who was glaring at him suspiciously. Humph! thought Heinrich. He’s certainly a well-fed little priestling! Indeed, young Pious was ample at the girth, puffed in the cheeks, and stood stoutly upon thick legs that swelled against the straining line of his outgrown robe. He sneered at Heinrich with a pompous pride that chased the shame from the lad and filled him with fury. Heinrich fixed a hard eye on the novice until the cutting words of Father Johannes turned his head.