Iny Lorentz - The Marie Series 02 (16 page)

5.

They left early that morning so that the neighbors didn’t see the huge packs all five of them were carrying on their backs. Marie had taken only the most necessary things, as she intended to buy the rest along the way, yet she, Hiltrud, Thomas, and their two eldest children were heavily weighed down. Like Hiltrud, Marie was wearing a simple, brown woolen dress and a warm gray patterned scarf around her head and shoulders, and Trudi was wrapped in a blanket on Marie’s chest. Despite the cold wind, she and her companions were soon sweating beneath their considerable burdens, moving their lips as if in prayer to strengthen the impression that they were pilgrims. Michi walked ahead with a stick he had decorated the night before with pussy willows and some of the year’s first green. Though Hiltrud had considered taking along her younger children as well, she’d decided against it, worried they might let slip something that could reach the wrong ears, and she had left them at home in a maid’s care.

Just before reaching the town where Thomas had purchased the wagon and oxen, the two women and the children stayed behind at an inn. When they arrived, they were the only people there, but in the late afternoon, two wagon trains stopped outside the inn, and wagon drivers roughly pushed through the door. Since Marie and Hiltrud weren’t accompanied by a man, they were immediately thought to be prostitutes, and lascivious looks and suggestive comments were aimed their way. They retreated to their room with the children to avoid trouble.

The next morning, Thomas appeared with a cart drawn by two oxen, leading the animals past the inn toward a road at the other end of the village that led into the forest. Marie had already paid the bill, so they immediately left the inn and followed the wagon as inconspicuously as possible, catching up with it at a secluded clearing.

Hiltrud hugged her husband as if she hadn’t seen him in weeks, while Marie anxiously inspected the vehicle and animals. The wagon was relatively new and seemed very solid. Its caulked timber sidewalls reached up to her hips, and a
double-sewn
,
well-tarred
canvas served as protection against rain and wind, attached to a rounded frame arcing so high above the wagon that one could comfortably stand underneath. Wheels with massive spokes reached up to Marie’s chin, the hubs were well greased, and a tin bucket full of axel grease hung on the shaft in back. Small barrels were attached to both sides of the wagon, one with fresh water and the other with grain feed.

“By God, Thomas! You really thought of everything,” Marie exclaimed after looking inside. There were several solid chests to hold her possessions and the precious merchandise. A straw mattress covered with a canvas and several blankets and sheepskins was lying atop one of them, making a comfortable bed for Marie and Trudi. In the back of the wagon was a cupboard screwed to the side wall, which not only had drawers, but as Thomas proudly announced, also several secret compartments for hiding Marie’s coins, her signet ring, and the jewelry she intended to barter in case of an emergency. Since she wanted to be able to abandon her role and turn back into a noblewoman at any time, she needed to carry a lot more money than a regular itinerant merchant.

Hiltrud was more reluctant to praise, because now there was nothing left in the way of Marie’s departure, but she remained as practical as always. “Well then, we can finally load our packs on the wagon. My back is all crooked.” The others laughed and helped her stow the luggage. While Hiltrud and the children made themselves comfortable inside the wagon, Thomas climbed onto the box seat and patted the space next to him.

“Come sit up here, Marie, so you can learn to steer your animals. Or were you planning on walking next to them like a servant?” Marie had no experience driving oxen but was willing to learn what she could in their few remaining days together. The draft animals weren’t much faster than people, but they tired less easily, and it was a lot more pleasant to travel without constantly stumbling over rocks and roots. Since they had told their neighbors they were going on a pilgrimage to Saint Marien am Stein, Hiltrud and Thomas would continue on to the pilgrimage church, where they would pray and buy devotional objects for themselves and for a few elderly and sick neighbors, while Marie and Trudi would make their way to the troops’ meeting place at Wimpfen.

On the fourth day, Thomas thought that Marie had learned enough to drive the wagon. Everything went well at first, but when they came to a fork in the road and Marie tried to steer the oxen to the left, they stubbornly turned right.

“Damned beasts!” Marie yelled at the animals. “Do as I tell you!”

Her shouts didn’t help. Thomas was about to take the reins she held out to him in desperation, but then he shook his head. “You have to learn to deal with situations like this. Drive down the road and look for a place to turn the wagon.”

Marie pinched her lips and let the oxen walk on. After a while, Marie spotted a bright strip of land behind a sparsely wooded part of the forest. “Look, Thomas, there’s a road headed off just before the village that might take us in the right direction.”

“Then take it!” Thomas nodded with satisfaction.

Even before they reached the main pilgrimage road, they spotted a sizable group of people ahead of them. The men at the front were carrying large crosses and flags decorated with pictures of saints, and walking at a brisk pace, as if their salvation depended on reaching Saint Marien am Stein as soon as possible. Marie knew that the main church celebrations would be held the next morning, and she wrinkled her nose, the pilgrimage site bringing back unpleasant memories. She knew from personal experience that the monks from the nearby monastery, who were supposed to look after the pilgrims, would be more interested in the harlots who turned up there than in the souls of people in prayer. But she quickly managed to shake these cobwebs from her mind. She wasn’t headed there, after all, and with Thomas at her side, Hiltrud would be safe from the lustful men of the cloth.

When they soon reached another fork in the road, Marie stopped the oxen and looked at her friends. “It would be best now if you followed the pilgrims and I took the road to Wimpfen.”

Thomas reluctantly agreed, though Hiltrud suddenly looked dejected, as if she had been hoping all along for a miracle that would render Marie’s journey unnecessary. Hiltrud was frozen in place on her seat, and Thomas had to twice ask her to gather her belongings and get off the wagon. Her two children didn’t find it easy to say
good-bye
, either. Mariele clung to Trudi and started to cry when her mother ordered her to put the child back in her bed and climb down from the wagon.

Marie gave Mariele a long hug, then lifted her onto the ground and gave her parents a questioning look. “You know what to do?”

Sighing, Hiltrud answered. “We will buy so many candles and devotional objects in Saint Marien am Stein that the pious brothers who bless them are bound to remember us.”

“And what will you say if someone asks about me?”

“You met friends on the way who invited you to their castle, but we know neither the knight’s name nor where his castle is,” Thomas answered firmly.

Marie nodded with satisfaction, but Hiltrud found a fly in the ointment. “But what if they accuse us of killing you in order to get your gold?”

“Good you thought of that. I’ll write a letter you could have received from a messenger, confirming what you said.” Marie fetched some writing materials from the cupboard and sat down on a chest. It wasn’t easy to write neatly on the uneven wood, but once she had placed her seal and signature at the bottom, the letter looked so genuine that not even the count palatine would be able to find fault with it.

As she handed the letter to her friend, she fought back tears. “Wish me luck!”

“More than anything in the world!” Hiltrud vainly tried to dry her face on her sleeve. Marie looked so small and helpless sitting high up on the box seat with Trudi on her lap. Hiltrud looked at her husband.

“This isn’t going to work, Thomas. Marie can’t do it on her own.”

Thomas chewed on his lip thoughtfully, then nodded, grabbed his son under the arms, and lifted him onto the wagon next to Marie. “Go with your aunt, boy, and help her! Look after the oxen and do everything Marie says.”

“What are you doing?” Hiltrud asked with a start.

“I’m giving her our eldest son to take as a servant. Everything we are and everything we have we owe to Marie, and we must do whatever we can to help her.” Thomas turned away determinedly, put one arm around his wife’s shoulders, took Mariele by the hand, and started following the pilgrims.

“I love you!” Marie called after them, but they didn’t turn around again. Michi stared after his parents, wondering whether he should accept this surprising turn of fate or run after them. But then he smiled at Marie and started to get excited about the adventure ahead. Marie set her mind to be even more careful than ever and to return the boy home safely.

Not wanting to start her journey with anxious thoughts, she winked at Michi and said with a laugh, “Let’s go!”

6.

From the outset, Marie realized what a huge gift Thomas and Hiltrud had given her in Michi, and she hoped to pay back their generosity one day. Michi was used to dealing with oxen and took over their care so that Marie could look after Trudi. Despite his youth, his mere presence caused most men to leave her alone, and innkeepers let them camp in the courtyard just like the wagon drivers, where burly inn servants kept watch at night. The boy also knew how to deal with difficult situations. When the wagon threatened to sink into a muddy hole in the road, he fetched farmers from surrounding farms to lift the wagon with long poles and drag it to dry ground. It was Michi, too, who jumped off the wagon and asked for directions every time they got lost. After a few days, she knew she wouldn’t even have made it to Wimpfen without him.

A wet and stormy April had set in when a steep hill suddenly rose out of the fog. Atop the hill on a rocky spur, a castle with massive towers dominated the valley. Below the fort lay the free imperial city of Wimpfen, surrounded by an equally imposing wall. As Marie approached a fork in the road, about to steer her oxen toward the city, a man stepped in her path.

“The troops are that way!” He pointed east toward a forested area, and Marie looked with dismay at what might have been a road at one time but now looked more like a
ten-foot
-wide
,
churned-up
swamp bordered by trees on each side. She could see bright tents shimmering through the still relatively bare trees and thought she could hear horses whinnying. Apparently, the good burghers of Wimpfen didn’t care to be too close to the soldiers. She smiled and thanked the man, who was still staring at her angrily. Then she pulled on the reins until the stubborn animals yielded to the pressure of their nose rings and steered them slowly toward the campsite. Michi jumped down and walked ahead to guide the oxen around the muddiest areas with a stick.

A few young men with dirty pants and boots were watching, seemingly waiting for their cart to get stuck in order to help and earn themselves a tip, but their oxen were strong enough to pull the
half-empty
wagon into the camp. Most of the helpers who had been lurking alongside the wagon sighed in disappointment when she reached the campsite, but one of them gave a cheerful laugh and slapped one of his friends on the shoulder.

“Did you get a good look at the woman? What a
tasty-looking
morsel.”

One of his comrades chuckled. “You’ll have to wait for your pay and content yourself with the harlots.”

“You already owe them so much, I think you’ll have to help yourself,” a third man joked, then pointed to another approaching merchant wagon that had just gotten stuck in the mud.

While the men ran toward it in hope of earning a few coins, Marie surveyed her surroundings. On her left stood the simple,
well-worn
tents of the soldiers, and to her right the bigger ones belonging to the knights, decorated with flags and painted coats of arms. There was a pen made of
rough-hewn
poles for the horses, while the oxen were tied to trees at the end of the campsite, where they were chewing on hay. Near the oxen stood three wagons, covered with canvas just like Marie’s, and three women wearing colorful clothing were sitting in front of the wagons around a small campfire. When Marie steered her wagon in their direction, one of them stood up, put her hands on her hips, and looked at her coldly. Robustly attractive, the woman was around
twenty-five
years old. She wore a dark brown dress and a knitted scarf of undyed wool around her shoulders.

“Who asked you to come?” she snarled at Marie.

“Why should someone have asked me? I heard the
Neckar-Frankish
group was gathering here, so I came to offer my services.” Marie suppressed her annoyance at the unfriendly reception and smiled calmly.

“I doubt you’ll be chosen. The noble merchant Fulbert Schäfflein provides supplies to this group, and he alone will be deciding which itinerant merchants will accompany it.”

One of the other women laughed. “Don’t let Oda scare you off! She’s just jealous because you’re much prettier than she is.”

Oda spun around and snapped at the woman who had spoken. “What’s pretty about that scrawny goat?” She was about to say something else, but Marie moved her oxen forward with a click of her tongue and steered them so close to the woman that they almost knocked her down. Oda cursed and jumped aside, threatening Marie with her fist, and Marie playfully swung her whip above the woman’s head in response.

Parking her wagon next to the others, Marie jumped down to put wedges under the wheels, and the other merchant women curiously came forward. Michi gave the women a nod, unhitched the oxen, and led them to two unoccupied trees to tie them up. Uncertainly looking at a pile of hay, he turned to the women.

One of them gave him a nod. “Donation from the local castellan, so help yourself.”

While Michi fed the animals, the women formed a ring around Marie. “Are they your children?” asked one of the sutlers, who was roughly Marie’s age and wore a colorful dress sewn of many different scraps of fabric. The woman had a good figure, but her face was harsh and grim. Nevertheless, Marie felt she could trust her, and she placed Trudi in her outstretched arms.

“This is my daughter, Trudi. The boy is called Michi, and he’s the son of my best friend. He’s come along to help me and take care of the oxen.”

“I could do with a lad like that. It’s hard work doing everything by yourself. My name’s Theres, and the pretty one over there is Donata,” the
harsh-looking
woman said, pointing to a
middle-aged
woman with light blond hair who was smiling at her amiably.

“I’m Marie,” she said, shaking hands with the two women. Before she could say anything else, the wagon that had been stuck in the mud earlier arrived. It was smaller than the others and drawn by two skinny old horses. The woman sitting in the coach box seemed unusually tall, but almost emaciated in her thinness. She looked to be around fifty, her face full of wrinkles, but the light blue eyes that flashed from beneath a large black hat were clear and lively. She was wearing a wide skirt, an oversized blouse, a shoulder scarf of thick wool, and soldiers’ boots, everything
pitch-black
as if trying to emphasize her resemblance to a raven, the bird of the dead.

Oda, who had been sulking off to one side, approached the new arrival and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Look who’s here—it’s Black Eva! You needn’t bother staying here, because the honorable Fulbert Schäfflein is personally choosing the merchants to sell his goods.”

It was the second time the woman had mentioned the name of the man the count palatine wanted Marie to marry, and she was curious to meet the army supplier. Marie was lost so deep in thought, she didn’t notice Black Eva climbing down from her wagon and greeting the other women, then wandering over to Marie, scrutinizing her doubtfully, and grabbing a strand of blond hair that had freed itself from one of the braids wrapped around her head. “I don’t know you.”

“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.