The Huntress of Thornbeck Forest (A Medieval Fairy Tale #1)(3)

The boy dropped the bread and threw all his weight in the opposite direction, but the woman was too strong for him. Her grip held firm. The boy yelped.

From his view of the side street, Jorgen saw the girl child cover her face with her hands and her shoulders start to shake. Even though she couldn’t see the boy from where she stood, she undoubtedly heard his pleading for the woman to let him go.

“A few hours in the pillory will do you good, you little knave.” The woman gave his ear a twist. Though his face twitched in pain, he did not cry out.

Jorgen broke away from the crowd and stepped in front of the woman and her captive.

“Frau, pardon me,” Jorgen said, causing the woman to look up at him. “The child left home without his money. Will you accept this to pay for the bread he dropped on the ground?” He held out two coins to her, enough to pay for four of the baker’s rolls.

The dark cloudiness of her expression changed as she looked at his money and then back at his face.

“I’m sure the child is sorry.” He placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder and stepped even closer.

“I suppose . . . but if he learns to steal now,” she muttered, “he’ll be a thief all his life . . . naught but a thief.” She accepted the money, took three more rolls off her husband’s tray, and handed the bread to Jorgen.

“I thank you.” He nodded to her and nudged the boy as they backed away from her.

When they were a few steps away, with the boy staring up at the bread in Jorgen’s hand, he pulled the boy aside and squatted so he could look the child in the eye. “Here is the bread, but do not steal. Next time you might be punished.”

The little boy drew himself up, squaring his shoulders and lifting his chin, as if trying to look taller. “I am not afraid.”

“Of course not. But your little sister would be very frightened if you were taken to the town square and fastened in the pillory.”

The little boy glanced behind him at the girl who was standing at the corner of the alley, sniffling and staring at them both.

The little boy’s shoulders slumped. “Can I go now?”

Jorgen’s heart constricted at the look on the boy’s face. “Do you have a mother or father?”

“I have a mother.”

“Where do you live?”

He pointed in the direction of the alley. “With my mother’s sister, but she says she cannot feed us.”

“If you need food, go to the gamekeeper’s cottage. Do you know where it is?”

“Outside the town gate, in the margrave’s forest?”

“That is where I live. My mother will give you food if I am not there.”

The expression in his eyes was much older than his years. Finally, the boy nodded. Jorgen walked him back to his sister, and the boy handed her a bread roll. They both put the bread in their mouths and bit into them. Then they turned and started down the alley side by side.

“Wait.” He couldn’t bear to let them leave with only a few small rolls. While he felt around in his pocket, he asked, “What is your name?”

“Martin.”

“Martin, do not lose this.” He handed him some coins. “Buy some food for yourself and your sister.”

The whites of the boy’s eyes flashed, as did his teeth, as he finally smiled. “Thank you.” He grabbed his sister’s hand and ran away.

Jorgen turned back in the direction of the town center and Marktplatz, blinking to try to erase the memory that the boy and his little sister had brought to the surface. The sounds of lute, hurdy-gurdy, and a Minnesinger’s voice singing a familiar ballad lured him on toward the music and dancing, where he might forget that he was ever as poor, hungry, and desperate as the two children he had just seen.





2





ODETTE’S FRIEND ANNA held up a braided wildflower circlet and placed it on Odette’s head. “Now you are ready for the Midsummer festival.”

“Do you not think I’m getting too old to dress like the other unmarried maidens on Midsummer?”

“Of course not. You are unmarried, are you not? You’ll be the fairest maiden in the town square.”

Odette embraced her friend. “And you’ll be the fairest married woman there.”

Anna laughed. “And the sleepiest. The baby woke me up three times last night.”

They stood admiring each other in the large ground-floor room of the half-timber house where Odette lived with her uncle. Odette wore the lightweight, white linen overdress that all the maidens wore on Midsummer’s Eve, while Anna wore a beautiful blue cotehardie with cutaway sides and a decorative belt.

One of the maidservants came down the stairs with the cloths, brushes, and bucket she used for cleaning the upper floors.

Had Odette hidden her bow and arrows before going to bed just before dawn? The sick feeling in her stomach told her she had forgotten.

Trying to hold on to her smile, Odette squeezed her friend’s arm. “Wait here while I go do something.”

Odette rushed up the stairs to her bedchamber on the third floor and nearly ran into her uncle in the stairwell. “Uncle Rutger. I didn’t see you. Did Heinke clean my chamber?”

He shrugged. “She may have. Did you need her to do something for you?”