ALTDORF (The Forest Knights: Book 1) (12 page)

Gildas nodded. “I have no doubt he is of the old blood. In different times, he may even have been trained to serve the Weave as we do. But he was not discovered early enough I am afraid.”

Seraina became excited at the observation and started to pace. “You feel it too? But of course you do! That is why you are here. Is it not, Gildas?”

“Your instincts have always been keen, my child. You will make a fine Elder one day. We have agreed the Weave is creating a powerful nexus in this area. And with every nexus there must be a Catalyst—one capable of nudging the Weave in the direction of change.”

Seraina’s eyebrows furrowed. “There has been something bothering me,” she said. “How do we know this change will be good for our people?”

Gildas sighed. “Seraina, you are a priestess of the Old Religion. It is your place to be concerned for the well being of the people. But never forget that the patterns of the Great Weave can never be fully known. Even by us. All we can do is be vigilant and do what we think right, for both the people and the land. Now, about this Arnold, or Noll as you call him. Why do you feel he is the one?”

“The people love him. Even though he is an outlaw hunted by the Austrians. Or, perhaps that is why they love him. I have seen how the Habsburgs have come into these lands and stripped them bare. The best crops, animals, even tradespeople, are taken north and east to support the great Austrian cities. And for years they have been granting tracts of our people’s land to foreign lords who send men and soldiers to desecrate it. They have no respect for the old ways, and neither the people nor the land can hope to endure much longer. They plant the same crops year after year on the same land, never allowing it to rest. They cut down our ancient groves and float the trees down the river to faraway places I have never heard of, they—”

Gildas held up his hand. Seraina’s voice had been growing louder and her hand movements more vigorous, but looking into the old man’s peaceful eyes gave her pause, and she took a deep breath, regaining some measure of control.

“Forgive me,” she said. “It has been some time since I have had anyone to speak of these things with.”

“Other tribes of our people have suffered much worse. Most in fact are no longer with us at all. But you must remember that strong emotions will only cloud your view of the Weave, and that in turn will greatly hinder your ability to help the land or those who call it home.”

“I am sorry. It is just that this is
my
tribe. The last of the Helvetii. And they have already suffered so much. But I think Noll could change that. He could be as great as Vercingetorix, if only I knew how to help him,” Seraina said.

The impatience and despair that had been building within her these last few months, as she watched Noll and his army of boys and beggars play with Austrian soldiers, finally overwhelmed her. Seraina’s eyes glistened as they welled with the first sign of tears.

“Vercingetorix had the benefit of a full druidic counsel. He had access to all the wisdom we could offer, yet he still failed to turn aside the armies of the Romans. Do not be so hard on yourself,” the old druid said.

“Please, Gildas. I beg you—tell me what I must do.”

He looked like he would speak, but instead placed his hand on her shoulder. Its warmth spread into her. They stood in silence, listening to the trees together as they used to when Seraina was a little girl. In time, the feelings of despair shriveled and withered, then blossomed into something else entirely.

Hope.

Finally, when Seraina had settled and nothing could be heard but the murmurs of the forest, Gildas spoke.

“Do not worry yourself too much, my child. The Helvetii are a resilient people, and I believe they still have a place in the Great Weave. Unlike my own tribe, your people’s time is yet to come.”

Seraina kept her eyes closed and wrapped herself in the strength of his words. His voice was deep and resonated with power amongst the trees. She felt at peace.

As he spoke, the old man’s own eyes roved slowly over the grove, drinking in every moss-coated stone and sun-dappled plant, logging the memory. Tucking it away somewhere deep enough that it would stay with him for the rest of this life, and into the next. When his gaze came to rest, finally, on the young woman at his side, his lips trembled and a single tear fled from the corner of his eye. In one swift motion he wiped it away and turned Seraina towards him. She opened her eyes and Gildas nodded towards the forest.

“Now, go and say hello to Oppid. He has missed you more than you know.”

Seraina beamed and an unstoppable grin spread across her face. With a shriek of delight she ran off into the trees calling out the wolf’s name.

Chapter 10

T
HE SLIVERED MOON offered little light to guide Seraina’s climb up the path from the water’s edge. Being careful to stay well back of torchlight and the harsh whispers of men’s voices, she avoided the main route and made her way in darkness through the forest of straight pines towards the Ruetli meadow. She took her time to enjoy the clear night air, stooping occasionally to pick star lilies, a red-petaled plant with flowers that only revealed themselves at night and was the base for many of her fever suppressing remedies. Slipping silently through the woods, Seraina caressed saplings, spoke in soft tones to the old growth, and skirted around areas with new shoots poking up from the forest floor. Finally, she reached the edge of the Ruetli, a clearing nestled in a thick copse of trees overlooking the eastern shores of the Great Lake of the four forest regions.

In the meadow’s center, a low fire burned, illuminating the faces of a dozen men in flickering light. Walter Furst, the Justice from Altdorf, was there, as was old Werner Stauffacher of Schwyz. She recognized a guild man from Zurich named Studer, and although she did not know some of the other men, she saw the bear crest of Berne on one of their shoulders.

“Torches coming up the path,” called out one of the two guards standing at the entrance to the meadow.

The men at the fire cast questioning looks at one another.

Walter Furst held out his hands. “We are expecting no others,” he said.

“How many?” Studer, the guild man from Zurich asked.

“Six torches. At least that many men.”

Werner Stauffacher walked over and peered down the path into the darkness. He was tall and very old, but he still had the loose-limbed gait of one who spent countless hours walking up and down mountain trails. “Arnold of Melchthal, and his band,” he said, shaking his head.

Studer cursed. “Outlaws,” he said to the man from Berne. “Stauffacher, if this is some ploy of your doing, I swear I will bring the wrath of the guilds down on you and all of Schwyz.”

“No need to get excited Master Studer. Werner had no idea the young Melchthal would be joining us. None of us did, but I must admit I am not so surprised,” Judge Furst said. A head shorter than old Stauffacher, Walter Furst was round in the face and had grey, wispy hair that seemed to float above his head.

Studer and the men around them had their hands on their swords. “What do you mean not surprised?”

“Arnold’s father is a member of the Oathbound Council,” Furst said.

“I am not sure I want to deal with the Eidgenossen if their members include murderers and highwaymen,” the man from Berne said. He was a squat hairy man that Seraina did not know but who, she thought with a wry smile, resembled the bear his city had been named after.

Studer nodded. “The guilds of Zurich feel the same. We are here to discuss how we can legally benefit our towns. We have no interest in rebelling against the German Empire. And where is Henri Melchthal? Why is he not here but sends his outlaw son in his stead?”

There was a commotion at the head of the path as Noll and his men approached the guards. The two guards looked at Stauffacher for guidance on how to treat the newcomer, and when he shook his head they stood down.

Noll strode into the clearing looking as unconcerned as a man coming home from the fields for dinner. He nodded to Stauffacher as he passed. His men spread out and took up positions on the outer ring of firelight, and their torches bathed the clearing in a bright light.

“Evening Furst,” Noll said, pleasantly enough. Then his voice took on a hard edge. “I believe I heard my father’s name mentioned? By all means, tell the guild man why he cannot be present.”

Walter Furst grimaced at Noll’s tone.

“Your father paid a terrible price for his pride. We all wish it had turned out differently,” Furst said.

“The charges were false. You knew it and did nothing,” Noll said.

“I tried to help your father, but you know how stubborn he can be.”

“You did nothing!” Noll stepped forward and grabbed Furst’s cloak with both fists. “You failed to act then just as you sit in the woods now like frightened rabbits while the Austrians take our homes and our land.” The guards moved towards Noll but Furst waved them off.

Stauffacher moved in and laid a hand on Noll’s shoulder. “Easy lad. Henri is a friend of many a man here, as well as a father.”

“Believe me Arnold, I tried everything within my power to have your father tried in my court. But Landenberg would have none of it. He has since accused me of sympathizing with rebels against the German Empire and I fear it is only a matter of time before he finds a way to remove me from my seat.”

Seraina slid forward through the brush. She had no fear of being seen. The trees embraced her and accepted her presence amongst them as one of their own. A cool breeze stirred the leaves of a low hanging willow branch, rustling at her in warning, but she parted them and peered out like a curious child half hiding in her mother’s skirts.

She faced Noll’s back and saw his shoulders bunch up, tensing under Stauffacher’s touch. Noll released Furst and stepped away from the two old men and turned towards Seraina’s hiding spot, his face bathed in the wavering glow of torchlight. The pain she saw there made her cringe.

She had tried to talk to Noll about his father, tell him it was not his fault. But what Furst had said about the elder Melchthal being stubborn was equally true of his son. These men of the Alps had a willful streak to them that was at once their curse and their greatest strength.

Henri Melchthal had been accused of not meeting his annual grain quota, so Landenberg gave orders to his tax collector to seize a team of Henri’s prized oxen. Noll argued with the man and ended up rapping his hand with an ax handle when he tried to take the oxen by force. The collector fled the young Melchthal’s wrath with several broken fingers. A few days later Landenberg himself came with an escort of soldiers. While Noll hid in the woods and watched, Landenberg allowed his collector to burn out Henri Melchthal’s eyes with the very same ax handle Noll had struck him with.

Perhaps Noll felt Seraina’s presence, knew she stood only paces away and had caught him in a vulnerable moment, for suddenly he dragged a hand across his face and gave the woods a long, blank stare. She leaned back and held her breath, feeling guilty for having experienced Noll’s pain without his knowing.

Noll turned back to the group of men. He stared hard at Furst and let out a slow breath before he spoke.

“I am sorry for my words Walter. I know you did what you could. It would do our people little good to have the last non-Austrian Judge removed from office.”

Noll whirled to face the other men and raised his voice. “One territory cannot stand against the might of the Habsburgs, but if the guilds of Zurich and Berne joined with the Eidgenossen we could drive the Austrian dogs from our doorsteps for good.”

“You are a fool,” the leader of the men from Berne said. “The Habsburgs have the might of the German Princes at their command. This is nonsense. I will not listen to any more of this.”

“And when will you listen? You think you are safe behind your city walls? For the time being perhaps. But what will happen once the Habsburg fortress is complete at Altdorf? They will control all trade that flows through Italia to the Hanseatic League of the North Sea. Altdorf will be the new Habsburg center of commerce and they will choke the flow of goods to your cities and tax your caravans like you have never known.”