The Lady of the Castle (The Marie Series Book 2) Read online

  “I am Marie, and I’m a sutler just like you and the others.” Startled, Marie didn’t try to suppress the challenging tone in her voice. She had met women like Eva during her years as a wandering courtesan. Sharp-tongued and as suspicious as old badgers, they were always willing to sell anyone they disliked to their worst enemy for a penny.

  Eva waved dismissively. “We’re competitors, in any case.”

  Theres admonished her. “We have to stick together in a campaign like this and help one another!”

  “Banding together with Oda would be like putting a poisonous adder to my chest, and this Marie is simply too pretty to trust. But I’ve always gotten along well with Donata and you, so I’ve got nothing against traveling with you.”

  Marie was surprised at the old woman, who seemed to think she could decide which merchant could come on this trip and which couldn’t. Oda seemed to feel the same way, because she was almost frothing at the mouth with anger. “You can hitch up your wagon and leave, because the honorable Herr Schäfflein certainly won’t take someone like you.”

  Eva cast a suspicious glance at Marie. “But he’ll take you and this Madonna in the red skirt, you reckon? Well, if you think you can gain an advantage with that rich fellow by spreading your legs, you won’t stay in our trade for long. A sutler needs other qualities in war.”

  “I’d like to see you offer yourself up. Even the horniest old man would lose his appetite with your bag of bones.” Oda cackled loudly and nudged Marie to do the same.

  Marie realized Oda hoped to win her as an ally against Eva, but she didn’t want to be dragged into their fight, so she just shrugged and went back to her wagon. She had bought a few eggs and some milk from a farm woman that morning, so she could make scrambled eggs the way Michi liked them.

  Just then, three men approached the women. One of them was a tall man of about forty with a narrow, pasty face, thin blond hair, and watery eyes. He was clad in a loose, brown jerkin and dark green tights that clung to his stork-like legs like a second skin. The man next to him was short and chubby with a round face, a childlike pout, a short, broad nose, and pale blue eyes set rather far apart. He was wearing a short green jerkin that was much too close fitting with red-and-black striped sleeves, tights with one red and one black leg, and an overly large pink and white codpiece. A green beret with a heron feather completed the attire, which was too garish for a nobleman, and entirely inappropriate for a merchant. And yet as Donata whispered to Marie, the stout man was indeed Fulbert Schäfflein, and the other man his clerk, Big Hans.

  The third man was a square-built knight of average height, wearing an old-fashioned gray surcoat with a coat of arms depicting a deer on a mountaintop. He appeared stern yet serene, and Marie decided to watch him for a while before passing judgment on his character.

  But Marie’s verdict about Schäfflein was already decided. Even before the merchant had embraced Oda—who had hurried toward him—and pinched her behind, she thanked the saints that she had managed to escape marriage to this man. He was whispering into Oda’s ear loudly enough for the women at the fire to hear that she should visit his tent later, when his eyes fell on Marie. Opening his mouth wordlessly in surprise, he scurried over to her.

  Marie caught his hand before he could put it down her dress and looked at the stout man in disgust. Schäfflein would probably not even reach up to Hiltrud’s chest, and yet he was the man the count palatine wanted to replace her Michel?

  “And who might this be?” Schäfflein looked like a cat that had sneaked up to a bowl of fresh cream.

  “Marie, an itinerant merchant,” Marie replied with a fake smile.

  “I’m sure you’ve heard that I have received the contract to provide for this group, so you’ll have to stay on my good side if you want to earn money. Come to my tent later, and we can discuss how much credit I can allow you.” Schäfflein’s words made it clear he’d give goods to Marie only if she complied with his wishes.

  Marie shrugged. “It’s better for you to bargain with Oda, Herr Schäfflein. She’s in greater need of your credit, because I pay cash.” Opening the purse on her belt, she let two Württemberg guilders sparkle in the sunlight.

  Schäfflein’s face mirrored his inner struggle between his desire for Marie and his greed; then giving Oda an appraising look, he seemed to decide that his male needs were already well met and that he shouldn’t miss out on Marie’s money.

  “You and you two”—he was pointing at Theres and Donata—“can negotiate with Big Hans, but the old black crow over there has to go.” Spitting in Eva’s direction, he was about to turn away, when the knight stepped in his path.

  “Black Eva is coming, whether you like it or not, Master Schäfflein. She has been on more campaigns than any old warhorse, and every group she’s traveled with has returned home halfway unscathed.”

  Marie had to smile. The man evidently believed that Black Eva was being watched over by some higher power, and he hoped that those powers would also look favorably upon him and his men.

  Schäfflein cursed under his breath, but he gave in. “What the hell, let her stay. But don’t think I’ll give my goods to that old bag of bones for nothing.”

  Marie laughed mockingly. “We’d never think that, because we all know who’s the only one to profit from war—the army contractor.”

  “You’re damned right, girl.” Stepping to Marie’s side, Black Eva rested her hand on her shoulder. With this gesture, Marie was fully admitted into the circle of sutler women. The knight seemed to think the same thing, because he held out his hand to Marie with a laugh. “Nothing against good old Eva, but it’s nice to see a beautiful face.”

  “Thirty years ago, Sir Heinrich, you would have said the same to me,” Eva said, pretending to be hurt.

  The knight quickly replied. “Thirty years ago I was more interested in my hobbyhorse than in a fine woman.” This time, he got the laughs.

  Eva’s grin was so wide that her face consisted entirely of wrinkles. “So we’re going to war together once again, Sir Heinrich. I remember our first campaign well. You were just a boy and the squire of the brave Reimbert von Gundelsheim, who’s been in the ground now a good many years. Have you reached your goal of becoming his successor as the castellan of the good brothers of Saint Bernhard of Vertlingen?”

  “Yes, I’ve become castellan,” the knight answered with pride, “and as such I’m leading this group.”

  “Well, maybe we’ll finally make some money out of this war.” Eva’s tone was sarcastic, but also hopeful of finally making enough money to retire, the eternal wish of all women who wandered the roads, as Marie knew from experience. Like most other such women, however, Black Eva would probably never find financial security, but instead continue riding on her wagon until she died and soldiers or servants buried her beside the road.

  Schäfflein had listened to the exchange between the knight and the old merchant woman with obvious displeasure, but hadn’t dared interrupt. Now he nudged his clerk in the ribs, pointed his chin at the women, and imperiously held out his hand to Oda, who immediately stepped to his side and giggled as she walked away with him.

  Eva watched them leave and spat contemptuously. “A whore stays a whore, even if she has a couple of draft animals and a wagon and thinks she’s something better.”

  Marie winced at the harsh words and worried about giving her own sad history away with a slip of the tongue, so she stayed quiet when Big Hans first began negotiations with the other women. Handing Trudi back to Marie, Theres carefully examined the goods Schäfflein’s servants laid out in front of her. The clerk and his men discussed financial arrangements with the women with such practiced skill that Marie wondered why Schäfflein had traveled all the way to Wimpfen when he didn’t even take part in negotiations himself. She suspected that Schäfflein had come because he could get away with things there that would have damaged his reputation back home i
n Worms, such as taking a merchant woman or a prostitute into his tent without consequence.

  “And what would you like?” Big Hans impatiently asked Marie, and she saw that the other women were already loading their purchases onto their wagons. Paying little attention to what the other women had chosen, she had already given a lot of thought to what provisions she wanted to buy. Though she had never traveled with an army, she knew what soldiers bought from conversations with Michel and from helping her husband to equip the supply wagons and the pikemen he had taken to Bohemia.

  Thinking of the unknown journey ahead and not wanting to waste any money, Marie haggled with Big Hans as if her life depended on it, criticizing both the quality and the exorbitant prices of his goods.

  The clerk’s pasty face turned red, and eventually he snapped at Marie. “Who do you think you are? If you complain one more time, you won’t get anything at all and can stay here in Wimpfen and rot.”

  Marie patted the purse on her belt. “But that would be unfortunate for your master, who would miss earning some of these shiny guilders.”

  “Herr Schäfflein is wealthy enough and doesn’t need your coins.” Big Hans pretended to put all the goods away, but his eyes were on her purse, which was clinking temptingly. If he lost this sale, Schäfflein would be angry and cut his share of the other sales. So he sighed in resignation. “Fine, but you’ll pay two perfect thalers for this barrel of wine.”

  “Agreed! But only if it’s good wine, not sour swill.” Marie went to the barrel, opened the bunghole, and sniffed it. After a servant filled a small cup for her to try, she nodded. The wine seemed to come from Schäfflein’s homeland, which was well-known for its abundant vineyards.

  “All right, two thalers for the wine, but in return you’ll accept my offer for that bale of cloth over there,” she told the clerk.

  He shook his head in desperation. “Add a penny a yard; otherwise my master will beat me when he sees how you’ve stolen me blind.”

  Marie nodded again and laughed. Now that they both knew where they stood, they soon agreed on the price of the remaining goods, such as leather straps, buttons, needles, and knives. Finally, Marie also bought a good amount of hard cheese, air-dried sausages, and ham, which would last for several months, as well as two small barrels of salted herrings, because the soldiers would appreciate a change from the daily monotony of army rations. As she stowed her purchases and checked her purse, she saw she had spent less money than expected, and she felt more positive about the future.

  7.

  Two days later, Sir Heinrich sounded the horns for departure. His army wasn’t much larger than Michel’s had been, counting among them fifty knights with only a small entourage. Sir Heinrich himself had only his squire, Anselm, and four horsemen, though unlike most of the others, he and his men were well equipped. The knights under his command were for the most part later-born sons with little more than a sword and armor to call their own, whose horses looked less like the warhorses of wealthy noblemen and more like they’d been rescued from the slaughterhouse.

  Shaking his head, Sir Heinrich surveyed his group. “Once again, it’s the poor souls who have hardly enough to eat who are pulling the chestnuts out of the fire for the kaiser,” he said to Black Eva. “The mighty lords stay tucked in their castles and leave the kaiser to his own devices. They don’t care if all of Bohemia’s on fire, as long as their land isn’t affected by war.”

  Sir Heinrich’s bitter words sounded accusatory, as if he were blaming the mighty territorial lords of the Reich for failing to serve their kaiser as was their duty. Like many others, he seemed to be of the opinion that a powerful empire like the Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation should have crushed a local uprising like the one in Bohemia long ago. Marie thought of her former patron, Count Eberhard von Württemberg, who had been dead several years. Would he have participated in this war? Probably no more than the other German princes who officially owed allegiance to the kaiser. It looked like Kaiser Sigismund could count only on the help of later-born sons of knights of the Reich and imperial estates under his control, and that seemed a bad omen to Marie.

  Her face seemed to mirror her thoughts, because Black Eva tapped her shoulder with the end of her whip. “It’s too late for fear, Marie. Do you want to turn your wagon around and return to the fairs to sell your goods?”

  Marie squared her shoulders and sat up. “I’m not afraid, and I won’t leave the group.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. Hettenheim is a good and, most of all, prudent leader. He would never fall into such a stupid Hussite trap as Heribald von Seibelstorff did two autumns ago.”

  Eva’s reply troubled Marie on two counts. First, she mentioned Seibelstorff’s failed campaign during which Michel supposedly died, and second, she called Sir Heinrich by a name that made Marie’s hair stand on end. “What did you just call our leader—Hettenheim?”

  “Yes, it’s Heinrich von Hettenheim, of the Frankish branch of the family. You’ve probably heard of his cousin Falko, who has made a name for himself in the Palatinate. But don’t mention the man in Sir Heinrich’s presence, because there’s no love lost between them.” Black Eva clicked her tongue, urging her horses to catch up with the slow-moving procession headed for the ferry, which had already started taking the first knights and soldiers across the Neckar.

  Marie sensed that the old sutler woman knew more than she was saying, but she’d have to rein in her curiosity for now. Climbing onto her wagon, Marie nestled Trudi securely in her lap and guided her oxen behind Black Eva’s cart. Jumping down from the box, Michi led the nervous oxen onto the barge by their nose rings, managing to get the heavily loaded cart across the swaying planks onto the ferry. On the other side of the Neckar, the ferryman impatiently shooed Marie off his barge, but deftly caught the coin she flicked him, and he bowed to her.

  “Happy travels and rich booty in the war,” he called after her as he pushed his barge off again to fetch the next load. As Marie’s wagon turned sharply up the riverbank, Michi nimbly climbed back onto the box seat.

  “You shouldn’t do that. It’s too dangerous,” Marie scolded him. “What if you slide off and fall under the wheels?”

  In response, Michi flashed a cheeky grin. For the first few days of their trip, he missed his family, downcast at traveling into the unknown with her. But now his eyes sparkled at the sight of every knight, and he walked over to the men as often as he could to listen to their stories. Since he didn’t neglect his duties, Marie accepted his frequent absences with an indulgent smile.

  The head of the procession marched on while the ferry was still bringing men across, and Marie worried that Heinrich von Hettenheim had lost track of his group, but over the next few hours she saw she was wrong. Their leader reorganized the various parts of the group shortly after everyone had made it across, forming a rear guard of foot soldiers to help any stuck wagons get moving again as quickly as possible. In the afternoon, he sent a few men ahead to prepare food, hay, and water at their chosen campsite, a little farm town of a knight obligated to the kaiser, who fed the whole group so well, they didn’t have to use any of their provisions.

  The procession made its way through numerous valleys and small towns, spending nights near monasteries or castles, whose owners looked after the travelers more or less generously. Marie used the long hours of the march to improve her skill as a wagon driver, and, in the evenings, she listened to the other itinerant merchants exchanging war stories, learning much more about her new trade than she could have imagined. So far, she had sold very little, as the knights and soldiers had brought their own provisions when they left Wimpfen, and the camp prostitutes weren’t making much money, either, as the men were too exhausted at the end of the day to think of women. Marie was surprised at the speed at which Sir Heinrich moved the group along, but when she mentioned it to Eva, the old merchant woman laughed.

  “Consider yourself lucky! If the la
ds are used to a brisk walk, they will not only attack but also retreat fast, which is good since the Hussites are supposed to be rather quick pursuers.”

  Thus far, Marie had been so preoccupied with unearthing information about Michel in Nuremberg that she had hardly considered the possibility of getting involved in the war. But now it dawned on her that the path she had taken might lead her right into the Bohemian uprising, facing skirmishes or even big battles, and she started to have doubts. Her first and foremost care had to be for Trudi, her greatest gift from Michel, and for Michi, her best friend’s son. If anything happened to him, she could never face Hiltrud again, and without Trudi, her own life would hardly make sense anymore.

  Still tormented by her fears when Sir Heinrich gave the order to stop for the night, she parked her wagon, fetched fresh water, and together with Trudi joined the other women by the campfire to help prepare their evening meal. They were having pancakes once again, and before long some soldiers appeared, sniffing the air, among them Sir Heinrich’s squire, Anselm. Recognizing a few of the men who had helped push her wagon out of the mud at Wimpfen, Eva waved them closer.

  “Hey, lads! Come and help yourselves to pancakes. They’re free today.”

  The soldiers didn’t have to be asked twice, and they were soon licking tasty fat off their fingers and flirting with Oda, Theres, and especially Marie. Black Eva watched them for a while and put her twisted, claw-like hand on Anselm’s shoulder.

  “You’re not going to be unfaithful to me, are you, my dearest?” Her words triggered a wave of laughter that attracted Sir Heinrich’s attention. He saw the pancakes and licked his lips.

  “They smell so good. My own mother couldn’t make them any better.”

  “I think there’s one left, just waiting for you.” Black Eva cheerfully handed the last pancake to the knight.

  Marie waited until he was chewing on his last bite, then leaned over to him. “How long will it take us to get to Nuremberg?” Marie couldn’t wait to arrive at the city where the kaiser and many of his liege men had gathered.