The Secret Healer(23)

Andreas held up his tankard, pressed it to his lips, and took a nice, long slug. “In the blink of an eye, you’ll be back in your cottage, leading a carefree life.”

Madlen tried to smile. The advocate was probably right, but though he was confident, she still had her doubts. It was almost too easy. She ate a bit of ham and bread silently and only took a tiny sip of beer before the advocate chugged down the rest of her brew.

“Thank you, sir,” Andreas called out as they took their leave.

The host opened the door. “My pleasure, my lord. Now go show this nobleman that he can’t shove us around anytime he wants. I hope they hang him.”

“Why do you say that?” Andreas von Balge asked, although he already knew the answer.

“He beat his wife so badly that she lost the child. We all know that.”

Some of the other tavern customers nodded approvingly.

“But,” the advocate pointed out, “first things first: we’ve got to acquit our Madlen here of any and all charges.”

“Good luck, girl,” called out one patron. “All the good people of Heidelberg are praying for you!”

“Nail this bastard!” said one after another.

Andreas thanked them with a nod and a wave of his hand, then left the tavern with his client. At that moment, he knew exactly why he never wanted to be anything other than a full-fledged lawyer. They walked confidently back over to the courtroom.

Madlen felt something had changed as she entered the room. Before she’d felt suspicious and judgmental glances from the guards; now the same men opened the doors, gesturing amiably and nodding sympathetically.

It wasn’t long before the room overflowed with so many spectators that the guards had to refuse entrance to any more. Usually, when court proceedings started in the morning and still hadn’t reached a verdict by lunch, the average Heidelberger had better things to do than continue to follow the case. Usually, the man on the street would hear enough gossip to anticipate the decision of the court. But Madlen’s case was different. Not too long ago, it seemed as if this was just a case of improper administration of powerful herbal remedies. But now it seemed clear that a rich nobleman was purposefully tormenting a young woman by accusing her of something that he was guilty of. In the last few decades, there had been minor revolts against feudal lords and other nobles. Commoners were fed up with the rich and powerful. Until today, Madlen hadn’t received any special attention in Heidelberg, but for many Heidelbergers, now the allegations against her reflected what angered them most about their daily lives. Simple, honest folks were fed up with arbitrary injustice. Madlen looked over at the spectator stands and saw a young woman raise her fist. Madlen nodded confidently as others made it clear that they stood behind her. Their support reassured her, and yet she still had a sinking feeling about Barbara’s testimony, though she surely knew that Adelhaid Trauenstein would have died if Madlen hadn’t helped her. And even though she had never wanted to do anything but help people, she secretly wondered whether she would be so willing to do so in the future. The terror of the last few days had shaken her so badly that she’d been unable to eat or sleep properly, and her already slight frame became even thinner and more frail looking. It would take some time before she regained the confidence to help others again. Madlen winced when Andreas grabbed her arm. He pointed to the young woman now being led into the courtroom by a guard. “Is this the witness?”

Madlen nodded. “Yes, that’s Barbara.”

“She won’t look at you,” Andreas whispered to Madlen. “Try to get her to meet your eyes.”

“I’ll try.” Madlen lifted her chin, but the maid kept staring directly at the floor, refusing to look up. It wasn’t long before the sheriff and the jury solemnly reentered the courtroom and once again took their places.

“The court wishes to continue.” The sheriff looked around the room. “I don’t see Matthias Trauenstein; he’s supposed to lead the prosecution.” He shook his head.

A murmur went through the courtroom as the people looked around. Suddenly, the door opened again, and a gasping Matthias Trauenstein entered. “Please forgive me!” He rested his hands on his knees to get his breath back.

“What happened to you?” the sheriff asked.

“It’s my wife, Adelhaid,” he blurted out. “She’s not well.”

“But she’s due to testify this afternoon, immediately after the maid,” the sheriff said indignantly. “Are you trying to tell us that she won’t be able to make her statement?”