ALTDORF (The Forest Knights: Book 1) (21 page)

Pirmin dragged two fingers down the entire length of his face. He was no longer smiling.

“He just stood there? Why did he not run?”

Pirmin used the same two fingers to tap the side of his head. “The plan. With Thomi it is always about the plan. Always has been. You see, Thomi lay on the ground crying and bleeding like a half-slaughtered goat. And when the man leaned over to slip a tether around the boy’s neck, I drove the bugger’s own ax between his shoulder blades, right through his spine. He died right then, no doubt, but his leg twitched for ten minutes. I will never forget that.”

He took another pull off his wineskin and held it out to Noll, who did not seem to notice.

“You killed a man when you were eight?” There was awe in Noll’s voice.

Pirmin shook his head. “This is what I have been trying to tell you, boy. I swung the ax, but truth be told, it was Thomi that killed his first man that day. If not for that skinny little boy, I would have spent my life rowing in the bowels of a Turkish slave galley.”

Chapter 19

B
ERENGER VON LANDENBERG and seven of his men thrust open the heavy double doors to Sutter’s inn shortly after mid-day. While Landenberg sat down in the middle of the room and put his booted feet on the table in front of him, his men forced the few patrons out and then rounded up Sutter and his family. Sutter, his wife Vreni, and daughter Mera, stood in front of Landenberg, displayed in single file.

“Fine place you have here,” Landenberg said, waving his hand over the simple room. Behind him a stairway led up to several guest rooms. “I suppose you serve ale?”

“Yes, my lord,” Sutter said, wiping his damp hands on the white apron tied about his waist. “And mead as well.”

“It is a dusty trip from Altdorf, and I find the honeyed wine…unsatisfying. Perhaps I could bother you for a flagon of ale?”

“Of course,” Sutter said, turning towards the bar.

“No, not you. I would have your daughter fetch it.”

Sutter was tense before, but now his back jerked upright like a cold iron rod had been laid alongside his spine. He turned to his daughter. Her pale blue eyes looked at him for guidance. He nodded once and tried to smile.

Landenberg watched Mera with hooded eyes as she stepped behind the bar, and tipped a clay mug under the spout of the oaken keg. She looked up once and something in Landenberg’s stare caused her to tremble. Frothy, warm ale flowed onto her hand. She carried the sticky mug over and placed it before Landenberg on the table. Without taking his eyes off her he raised the ale and drained off half, then set it down and dragged the back of his arm across his face to remove the foam from his heavy beard and moustache.

“Very nice,” he said. Mera inched closer to her mother and stared at the floor.

Landenberg turned back to Sutter. “Tell me innkeeper. How is business these days?”

“Fair my lord. Could be better, but you will not hear me complain.”

“And when was Arnold of Melchthal last here?”

“The outlaw? Surely my lord, we would not—”

“Oh shut up Sutter. I know he and his men frequent this place. Do not fret. I can hardly blame you if a band of outlaws choose your inn to quench their needs. But I would be remiss in my duties as your lord if I were to allow your innocent daughter to be exposed to such unscrupulous men.”

Sutter opened his mouth to say something, but Landenberg held up his hand and continued speaking. “Fortunately, so to speak, a member of my own household’s serving staff has recently left this world and must be replaced. Your daughter seems capable. What say you my child? Would you have the honor of attending to your lord’s household?”

“You are not our lord,” Sutter’s wife spoke up. “Schwyz is not part of Unterwalden and you are not our Vogt. You have no right to—”

Landenberg nodded to one of his men and he stepped forward and backhanded the woman hard across the face. She fell back into some chairs and another soldier yanked her to her feet.

“Vreni!” Sutter tried to go to his wife but two men grabbed him and another held Mera, who began to shake and sob quietly.

Landenberg stood up. “I may not be Vogt to Schwyz or Uri, yet, but Duke Leopold charged me with keeping the peace in all lands north of the Gotthard. And you, woman, have been harboring outlaw scum in your inn.”

He grabbed Mera from the soldier holding her and said, “Show the innkeeper’s wife what could happen when one gets too close to outlaws.”

The soldier’s lips parted into a gap-toothed grin and he nodded to the two men holding Sutter’s wife. They lifted her by the arms and slammed her back onto one of the tables, its trestle legs swayed unsteadily but held. The soldier drew his belt knife and starting at the bodice, sliced open the woman’s dress. She fought and shouted obscenities at the men, surprising them with the crudity of her curses, and they laughed.

“Right bit of dirt in this one’s mouth,” one of the men said as he removed his sword belt. “Time to take the fight out of her.”

Landenberg held Mera tightly around the neck from behind, as he watched his men take turns at the girl’s mother. When Mera called out and tried to struggle free he clamped down, cutting off her air. Her struggles lessened and he eased off the pressure, but kept the soft skin of her face pressed up against his own. He leaned himself into the young girl and felt his loins stir.

His intention had been to get the girl back to his estate and have his way with her then, after she spent some time as a servant in his household. But as she squirmed against him and cried out again and again, he found himself becoming hard and knew he could not wait any longer.

Chapter 20

W
ITH THE FRESHLY killed boar at their feet, Noll and Pirmin crouched in the trees outside Sutter’s inn looking at the two soldiers standing on guard outside the main doors.

“What are they doing here?” Pirmin said.

“Looking for me,” Noll said. Over their armor, the men wore tunics bearing Landenberg’s crest. He fingered the pommel of his sword wondering how many men were inside, and cursed himself. He should never have frequented Sutter’s inn, but who would have thought Landenberg would send his soldiers this far from Unterwalden in search of a common outlaw? He must be getting to Landenberg. And while that thought pleased him to no end, it was not right that Sutter should pay the price. Or his family.

Lord God, please let Mera not be inside.

“We have to go in. Sutter is in trouble.”

“What do you mean? He does not know where your camp is so there is precious little he can tell them. They will kick around the chairs, ask some questions, maybe drink some of Sutter’s mead, and then be on their way.”

“Vreni and Mera are in there.”

Pirmin was oddly quiet for a moment. “Point taken,” he said, and then gritted his teeth and blew air from between them. “This is turning out to be one hunting trip I wish I had lugged my ax along for.”

The big man grabbed the dead boar by the scruff of its neck and dragged it close with one hand. “I will go first and you come when you have a mind to. I will not begrudge doing the lion’s share of the work, but I will be right pissed if I need to do it all.”

“What? That is your plan? You have no idea how many men are in there,” Noll said.

“Bah, you sound like Thomi,” a scowl crossed Pirmin’s face. “Sometimes you just got to have at ‘er. Do something, anything, and push your way through until the job is done.”

Pirmin hefted the boar onto his shoulders, stepped out of the bush, and walked straight towards the two guards at the main door to the inn.

“Inn would be closed,” one of the soldiers called out to Pirmin when he spotted him. The other one had his hand up inside his chainmail, scratching at something under his arm with a tortured look on his scrunched up face.

“Oh? For how long?” Pirmin said, stopping at the bottom of the steps leading up to the front doors. He shifted the boar on his shoulders and grunted, bending low under the weight.

“Go get your swill somewhere else, man. This tavern is closed until the Vogt decides otherwise.”

“That so? Suppose I will leave Sutter’s meat on his porch then. Which one of you has my payment?”

The soldier laughed and turned to his companion. “This one is either funny or daft as a stone. Do not know what smells more, him or his pig.” Smiling he turned back to Pirmin. “Take your pig and your own stinking hide away from here, now.”

“All right, all right. No need for a tongue-lashing. But I would leave this boar here.”

“Put it downwind on the far side of the porch,” the second man said. His hand was still under his armor but was now raking at the area near the small of his back.

Pirmin nodded and climbed the stairs on unsteady legs, and when he got to the top he bounced once and hefted the boar over his head in an incredible show of strength. Then, he launched it at the furthest soldier, the one with the rash. It hit him square in the chest, knocking him into the guardrail. His legs flipped out from under him, and he tumbled clear over the railing. He hit the dirt hard and a split second later the dead animal landed on top of him.

Noll sprinted out of the bushes and stood over the man in an instant, but there was no need. The man was unconscious.

Meanwhile, the other guard snarled and reached for his sword. Pirmin grabbed his wrist with one hand and his throat with the other. He lifted the man three feet off the deck and slammed him against one of the log posts supporting the porch roof. He grunted and his eyes glossed over. Pirmin let him slide down the post and then used it to pull himself into the man, and delivered a bone-jarring knee to the man’s sternum. Chainmail was designed to turn aside the points of blades. It did nothing against the full strength and momentum of a three hundred pound giant. The breath rushed out of the man and his ribs crackled like dry kindling. Pirmin held the man up long enough to take his sword and then tossed him away.

He glanced at Noll to make sure he was coming and then charged through the doors to the inn, screaming in a voice that froze Noll in place and chilled his blood. It was a wail filled with the anguish, hatred, and fear of war. It was the most terrifying thing Noll had ever heard, and it took a moment for its paralyzing effect to release its hold. God only knew the effect it had on the men Pirmin attacked.