"Do not do this. They need our help."
"What for? They look healthy enough."
"A man in their village is dying." The old woman didn't blink as the other two men brandished crude but very lethal looking scythes. "And they won't take no for an answer."
* * *
The jolting ride to the village in the back of the farmers' cart didn't seem to bother Tibelda, who sat in calm silence. Anne alternated between glaring at her bound wrists and wondering how long it would take her friend to get help.
Thank God Sharon had the good sense to stay out of sight. "Why didn't they tie you up?" she asked the old woman.
"I did not punch any of them in the face."
"True." She sighed and rubbed her bruised knuckles. She'd never hit anyone before in her life, but she'd never been shanghaied by men with razor-sharp weed wackers, either. "Do they usually kidnap you when someone gets sick?"
"Drud's wife sent them. She knew I would not come to the village willingly."
"Really." Anne eyed the scythes propped on the shoulders of the men guarding them. "I take it she doesn't like you much."
"No." Tibelda's mouth twisted. "She doesn't."
By the time they arrived at the village, Anne's hands and backside were numb. "Finally. Can someone untie me now?" Everyone seemed to be ignoring her, and she turned around.
Two well-dressed men emerged from one of the farmhouses. The older of the two men sported a snow-white goatee, expensive black robes and a skullcap on his balding head. The younger man's traveling clothes were not as fine, but he had an appealing smile and shrewd dark eyes.
"Who are those guys?"
"They brought Drud here," Tibelda said. "One of them is a physick."
"A doctor? Then what the heck do they need us for?"
Her companion sniffed. "They say he does nothing for Drud."
"Terrific." She tried to rub the back of her neck and nearly dislocated her shoulder. "So he's either a lousy doctor, or a lazy one."
Tibelda shrugged. "Most of them don't bathe or cure people."
"I see the prodigal farmers have returned, and with such interesting companions." The elder man spoke German with a distinct accent—or sneer, Anne couldn't decide which. Whatever it was, it sounded British.
"I speak English," she told him. "Who are you?"
He showed some mild surprise, then inclined his head a degree or two. "William Harvey, physician in ordinary to His Majesty, King Charles of England."
Anne barely noticed the farmer untying her wrists. He can't be that William Harvey. Can he? "Are you the Dr. Harvey who was—who wrote that blood circulates through the body?"
"Yes." He frowned. "You have read my books?"
"Not exactly." Anne skipped the explanations as she grabbed her backpack and climbed off the cart. "I'm Anne Jefferson."
"Lady Jefferson." The younger man stepped forward and offered a more courtly bow. "I am Adam Olearius, scholar and ambassador for the Duke of Holstein."
"Anne is fine." Probably another loser from Jena, Anne thought, and addressed Harvey again. "Doctor, what are you doing in the middle of Germany?"
"Until recently I accompanied the king's cousin, His Grace James Stewart, the Duke of Lennox, on his tour of the Continent." Harvey invested each word with weighty significance. "His Grace sent me from Belgium to Holstein, to meet with the duke and Ambassador Olearius before he begins his tour of Persia. Why is that woman glowering at me?"
"This is Frau Tibelda. She's, uh—"
"I can speak for myself." The herbalist marched past Harvey. "But not to him." She entered the house, the three farmers trailing her.
"She's a little cranky." Anne shrugged. "Being abducted at scythe-point does that to people."
"My condolences." He plucked a bit of straw from his sleeve. "I understand she is a healer of some sort."
"Yes." She'd dealt with enough snotty doctors in her own time to recognize professional contempt. "She's the local expert on herbal remedies."
The skin around his nose drew up. "You brought an herbalist to treat this man?"
"It wasn't my idea." She gestured toward the farmhouse. "Go talk to the three stooges."
Olearius cleared his throat. "We have heard rumors of extraordinary folk come to the south of here." He eyed Anne's backpack with barely concealed curiosity. "Would you be citizens of this new United States of America?"