Wolfbreed (32 page)

This is not going to go well. Not well at all
.

He knew the couple. Not personally, but he knew of them. Gedim and Burthe were the only married couple from Chief Radwen Seigson’s household to have survived the fall of Mejdân whole. They even had taken in Radwen’s only surviving child—

That meant that he needed to take everyone.

He dismounted and waited for Gedim to reach the cottage before he approached the gate. Gedim walked up and nodded at him without opening the gate. “Can I help you?”

Günter watched him survey the small procession. Unlike the
one that had been through this area before, their job didn’t include searching for the creature. Günter could see in Gedim’s expression that he understood the difference. He probably knew most of the people who peered down at him from the old hay wagon.

“I’m Sergeant Günter Sejod—”

“Hognar’s son. I know, I recognize you.”

Of course you do
.

“I’ve been ordered to retrieve for questioning all people who survived the sack of Mejdân.”

Gedim’s eyebrow rose. “I am in the middle of planting.”

Günter looked up at the wagon. “They were planting as well.”

“Do you people not want Johannisburg to eat?”

“A few days at most,” Günter said. “The Church requires it.”

Günter watched as Gedim surveyed the six mounted soldiers who accompanied the wagon. “It seems that I have no choice but to be a good Christian.” He opened the gate. “I will accompany you.”

Burthe stormed out of the cottage. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Günter put his hand on Gedim’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. Not just you.”

“You bastard,” Burthe spat at him. “What gives you the right—”

“The rule of this land by the Order, and the pope, give me the right,” Günter told her. Behind him, two of his men dismounted. “I need to bring back you, Gedim, your wife, and Uldolf.”

“Uldolf isn’t here, you spineless—”

“Burthe!” Gedim snapped at her. “Think of our girl. Calm yourself.”

She looked as if she was going to spout more invective against Günter, but thought better of it. Günter looked away from her and at the cottage, where their daughter was quietly sobbing.

Günter shook his head.
This is a disaster …

“Sergeant, my son has gone into town. It’s only the three of us here.”

“Son?” Günter looked up at him.
Oh, Lord Radwen’s child
. “Uldolf, you mean? Is he due back soon?”

“He just left.”

“I see …” Günter looked out at the field and narrowed his eyes. The horse still stood, and a basket was scattered in the furrow before it. That was a two-person job. And how likely was it that Gedim would allow even partly able-bodied help to go away to town right now? Why, in fact, would he be as agreeable as he
was
being?

“Hilde,” Burthe said abruptly. “We can’t leave her here, alone. And our horse is still in the field.”

Günter looked at her and smiled.
We both know she wouldn’t be alone, now, would she?

“You can bring Hilde with you,” Günter said. “You will not be kept away more than a few days.”

Gedim and Burthe looked at each other. Then Gedim looked at him and said, “May we take care of our horse, and close up our house?”

Günter nodded.

In the end, Günter decided there was no point in making this scene even more difficult for the sake of someone who was little more than a child when the savagery of the Teutonic Order fell upon Mejdân. There was nothing that Uldolf might know that would be of any interest to Erhard or the bishop.

illy pressed against the stone wall, shaking, her eyes shut. She tried not to hear the men, or smell the horses. She tried to think of Ulfie, that he would come back.

He
would
come back, and everything would be all right.

“Why?” she whispered into the stones. Tears burning with the effort, she struggled with the single question. “Why?”

In her head she heard a colder voice.
You know why
.

“No.”

You can’t forget me …

“No!” She spat out the word, too loud. The men up there, by the road, would hurt her if they found her. Even worse, they might hurt Ulfie’s parents.

Or Hilde.

Her fingers dug into the soil at the base of the wall, anger growing. If anyone got hurt—

On her hands and knees, she sucked in gasping breaths, eyes burning. She didn’t want to be angry. With every nerve, with every bone, with every clenching muscle she did
not
want to be angry.

Listen to Ulfie’s father. He said to hide. Listen to him now, how calm he’s talking to the men on the road.

He smells of fear
, the other one spoke in her head.

“He doesn’t want th-them to hurt me,” she whispered into the earth.

We can hurt them first
, the other told her.

“No. Don’t. Please.”

We can hurt them enough that they will never hurt anyone, ever again
.

Lilly buried her face in the soil and screamed into the ground, “Stop it!” Her voice was muffled, and she inhaled dirt, making her gag and cough.

She froze, thinking the men would hear her. She hugged herself, wheezing, leaning against the cold stones. She didn’t even dare to peek, so she kept her eyes closed, listening.

Panic gripped her chest when she heard someone coming, walking across the earth. The horse snorted. She sucked in gasping breaths trying to be calm, be hidden.

They were coming for her.

Then she heard Ulfie’s father whisper, “It’s all right. Nothing to worry about.”

He was whispering to the horse, but she knew the words were for her. She listened as he led the horse away. Maybe the men were going to leave?

They did leave, but they took Ulfie’s parents and Hilde with them. It was a long time after she had heard them leave before Lilly risked looking over the edge of the wall.

No one, just the horse in his pasture, craning his neck to reach some grass that was just outside the gate. She brushed the dirt off her clothes and her face, spitting out pieces of soil.

She was alone.

Ulfie would come back. He would know what to do.

But she had heard them talking. The men wanted Ulfie, too. The men wanted to take
everyone
from her. She shook her head. They couldn’t take Ulfie away. They couldn’t.

You need me
.

“No,” she whispered. “I—I—I—” He voice kept catching on the word. She finished the thought in her head.
I can do this myself
.

Always, when something horrible happened, she let the other one take over, begged for her to take over. She might be frightened, but she was just as strong and smart as the other one. She
could
do it herself.

She could get help. She could find Ulfie.

You promised to stay
.

No, I promised not to run away
.

She wouldn’t be running away, she’d be running
to
him. She stood next to the cottage and swallowed. Following Ulfie meant she would have to go in the same direction the men took his family. The men who wanted to hurt her.

The scar on her head hurt, and she absently rubbed at it.

When she caught up with them, she would just have to go through the woods, around them.

She walked to the edge of the road and walked through the gate. She looked off in the direction the men, and Ulfie, had gone. Not far. Not far at all, if she ran. She could run fast.

Lilly bent and pulled her skirts up, tying them high around her waist. Then she ran.

illy smelled the men before she was in sight of them. The sweat of the horses, the sour smell of tired men, the fear from the cartload of prisoners, all thick in the air above the road. She slowed, barely panting, and stepped off of the road and into the woods. There was no path here, and the underbrush caught at her legs. Branches whipped her face and tugged at her hair.

She pushed deeper, until she came across a small game trail that followed the road. She stayed on it, bending low, trying not to be heard. However, as she closed on the small caravan, she realized that the men probably couldn’t hear her even if she tried to get their attention. Far out of sight to her right, through the woods, they traveled in the midst of a dissonant symphony of hoof-beats, creaking wagon wheels, and the babble of the people in the wagon.

Lilly strained and she heard Hilde’s voice saying, “What about Lilly?”

Someone, Ulfie’s father she thought, whispered, “Shh. Don’t talk about that now.”

Lilly’s vision blurred, and she ran faster down the game trail, getting ahead of these men. She ran until she could no longer hear the cacophony of their progress, and their smells were just a faint memory.

Safely ahead, she cut again through the underbrush and stepped out on the road. Running on the road, where other people traveled, was dangerous. She might be seen …

But she had to follow Ulfie, and until she got close to him, the road was the only sure way she had to follow him. She could move much quicker on the road than she could in the woods. Besides, men were smelly and noisy, and if she paid attention she would notice someone else long before he noticed her.

t seemed that every hour that passed served to show Uldolf what a bad idea coming to Johannisburg had been. The village was crawling with foreign soldiers, brother knights of the Order, secular knights, squires, bonded foot soldiers—and all were looking for Prûsans who had survived the sack of Mejdân. It was clear that Lankut was closer to the truth than Uldolf would have liked. Uldolf credited the fact that he was still a free man to his following Lankut’s advice as to where to board for the night.