The Ram Rebellion(200)

Von Bimbach went over to a nearby table and spread open the packet. Emma could now see that it contain paper and writing material.





"You will compose a letter to your authorities," von Bimbach stated. "To abuse the term. Both of you. And you will sign it."





"I will not!" Emma hissed. Meyfarth shook his head.





Von Bimbach gave them a long, heavy stare. "Yes, you will."





By now, Emma's fear has been replaced by sheer outrage. "I will not! Go ahead and torture me, if you want to. I still won't!"





The Freiherr's sneer was something out of a lousy movie, too. "Not you, witch. For my negotiations—unfortunately—I shall probably need you and the so-called pastor intact. Still, you will the compose the letter."





He swiveled his head to the soldier again. "Bring in the old woman."





"You promised me they wouldn't hurt her!" Judith Neideckerin shrieked at Noelle, half-rising from the chair in her chambers.





Noelle couldn't meet her eyes, yet. All she could do was stare out of the window.





Another shriek. "Let's kill him! Now!"





"We can't," Noelle hissed.





"You have a gun! An uptime gun! Don't lie to me, I know you have it!"





That was finally enough to break Noelle's paralysis. She spun around and faced Judith squarely.





"Yes, I do." She reached into the pocket of her heavy skirt and drew out the Browning automatic. "Here it is. I've got it loaded, too. But does it look like a magic wand to you? It's got less than ten rounds. And they're not very powerful. What we call a .32 caliber."





Hissing, again: "A so-called `lady's gun,' that Dan Frost thought I could handle better. As slender as I am. Damn him!"





She stuffed the pistol back into the pocket. "But it doesn't matter, Judith. Even if I had a .44 Magnum—and assuming I could handle the great thing—it wouldn't matter. The soldiers are on alert, all over the Schloss."





"The staff—"





Noelle shook her head. "Not now. Not yet. They're not ready to take on the Freiherr's mercenaries, all by themselves. And if they did, they'd probably be beaten down, anyway. Except for the blacksmith and his apprentices—maybe some of the stable hands—they're mostly just clerks and servants."





Judith slumped back into her chair and lowered her head into her hands. Then, started sobbing.





Noelle went over and placed an arm around her shoulder. "I don't think he's planning to kill your mother."





"He's hurting her," came the words between the sobs. Then, Judith lowered her hands and stared at the floor through tear-filled eyes.





"For the first time—ever—I wish the swine had sired a child on me. So I could strangle it."





Noelle tightened the arm. "No, Judith. You wouldn't."





After a while, she added: "Just wait. There'll be a time. Soon, I think."





The torturer and his assistant had the old woman strapped into the contrivance that had reminded Emma at first of a very primitive dentist's chair. Except now she could see that it was more like the equipment that hospitals used for women in labor. The pastor's landlady was secured to the wooden base of the horrible thing with a heavy leather belt across her waist. Her hands were immobilized by other straps and her feet had been locked into stirrups.





Her legs were half-spread and bent upward, removing any support. The torturer pushed back the woman's skirt, exposing her left shin.





"Now."





His beefy assistant raised the iron bar in his hands and brought it down. The sound of the breaking bone was quite audible all through the chamber.





"I'll write it! I'll write it!" Emma shouted, her voice so loud it almost drowned the old woman's cry of pain.





Von Bimbach looked at the pastor. Meyfarth swallowed.





"The other leg," the Freiherr commanded.





The torturer and his assistant had already moved to the opposite side of the apparatus. Again, the torturer shoved aside the skirt; again, the iron bar came down.





"I'll write it," said Meyfarth. His voice sounded like a croak. Emma could barely hear the words, beneath the screams.





Chapter 15: "The ram has taken Halsgericht now"


Bamberg, early September, 1634




"This has to be," Anita Masaniello said, "one of the slimiest letters I have ever read."





"Ah," Constantin Ableidinger answered, "it was written, of course, by Dr. Lenz. `Pestilenz.' Who delivered it in person."





"At least, apparently, Emma and Meyfarth are alive. And still in fairly good shape, if we can rely on their notes. But I simply cannot believe the sheer idiocy of this."