Steffan had slept at the inn a day’s ride northeast of Prague, but he awoke with the same heavy feeling he’d lain down with.
He traveled an hour before coming to a village. The church’s bell tower rose above all the other buildings, and he turned his horse in its direction, with his attackers’ horses following behind by use of tethers.
He tied the horses to a stake just outside the church and went inside. “Is the priest here? I need someone to hear my confession.”
“I am here,” a voice called from behind the chancel. “Go in and I shall be there in a few moments.”
Steffan stepped into the wooden confessional box and closed the curtain, then lowered himself to the kneeling bench, focusing his mind on the Lord Jesus’ death on the cross.
The priest shuffled into the box.
Eager to get this done, Steffan blurted out, “I have committed a great sin against God and against humanity.”
“There is no sin the Lord cannot forgive,” the voice said from the other side of the slatted window. “What have you done that you wish to confess?”
“I killed two men.”
The priest made a strangled sound, as if he’d choked on his own tongue. He coughed, drew in a loud breath, and coughed again.
“Shall I go get some water for you?”
The man cleared his throat. “No need. I am well. So you killed two men?” His voice rose higher as he spoke.
“They tried to kill me.”
“Why did they try to kill you, my son?” His voice almost regained the peaceful tone he’d had at the beginning of the confession.
“They said my uncle sent them.”
“Why would your uncle want to kill you?”
“I don’t know. He probably wants my inheritance.”
“So these men attacked you?”
“Yes. They attacked me with swords.”
“And you killed them both?”
“Yes.” Steffan had never had a priest ask so many questions. “Have you had anyone confess to murder before?”
“You are my first murderer. But Jesus says when we hate someone, we have committed murder already in our hearts. You did not hate these men?”
“No, I never saw them before.”
“I see. Since it was in self-defense, your penance shall be light. You must spend today and the next day in prayer for these two men’s families.”
“Very well, I shall.”
“And you may sleep tonight on a cot at the back of the church. Then if you will promise never to kill again, you will be absolved.”
Steffan was silent as he thought about it. “If I am attacked again by my murderous uncle or his henchmen, I shall be forced to defend myself. I am not sure I can promise that.”
The priest made a clicking sound, as if with his tongue against his teeth. “Well then, you must vow never to kill unless out of necessity to save yourself from being killed. And you must remember, vengeance belongs to the Lord.”
Vengeance? It wasn’t something he’d ever thought much about, but he did want to make sure his uncle was brought to justice if he was found to be guilty. His uncle deserved the greatest punishment for causing Steffan to kill two men.
“I shall do as you have said.”
“Very good. Now seek peace, my son.”
Steffan spent the two days at the little village church, kneeling in prayer. He prayed so much and so long, his mind sometimes wandered. And when the assigned penance was over, he was not sure if the heaviness on his shoulders was any lighter. Had his prayers made a difference? Had he prayed fervently enough to receive God’s forgiveness?
It seemed only right for him to feel guilty for taking two lives. Was praying for two days enough penance for two men who would never have a chance to repent and ask for the remission of their sins?
Regardless, Steffan had had little choice. He had killed the men in self-defense. And now he rode toward the home he had not seen in almost two years.
Erlich and Agnes moved a bit faster now, and they reached Wolfberg before sunset.
As they neared the gate that led to the castle, Agnes whispered, “Not a word out of you, or Father will kill the mute boy.” She glanced in Lenhart’s direction.
Magdalen merely glared back. You and your father will pay for hurting Lenhart.
The cut over the boy’s eye was still crusted over, and his expression reminded her of a stray dog she’d seen once in the village of Mallin when some boys threw rocks at it. The thought of anyone hurting a kindly, innocent boy like him made her blood boil.
She had to be brave like Avelina and watch for an opportunity to right this wrong.
The gate was high and impressive, and the guards wore the gold and burgundy livery of the dukedom of Wolfberg. In the gray twilight, the castle emerged from the trees as they passed through the gate. The five towers loomed over them, one giant round one in the middle and one square tower at each of the four corners of the massive building.
The guards halted their little group, and Erlich made a show of helping Agnes down out of the cart. He told them in a gruff voice, “This is the duke’s future bride, Lady Magdalen of Mallin.”
He bowed to Agnes, who stepped forward and smiled at the guards.
Their mouths went slack and they bowed respectfully, then stepped back to let them pass.
As Magdalen walked past, their gazes lingered on her and her brown woolen kirtle. One of them gave her a lascivious wink.
Magdalen had to look straight ahead to hide her expression. It seemed these men respected only a woman of noble rank, and nobility was only as deep as one’s clothing.
A guard escorted them up the steps toward the door of the castle, while a servant came to lead away their horse, cart, and mules.
“Let this servant boy help with the horse and mules,” Erlich said. “He is fit only to serve in the stables, since he is mute.”
The guard nodded.
Magdalen picked up a bag of her things from the cart, but Agnes snatched it out of her hands, then shoved her own bag at Magdalen.
A woman appeared in the doorway and bowed to Agnes. “Lady Magdalen, I am Frau Clara, and I am the head house servant. Please allow me to welcome you to Wolfberg Castle.”
“Thank you, Frau Clara. Before we go in”—Agnes pointed at Magdalen—“would you please send this servant girl to do some menial task outside the castle? She has displeased me greatly, and I no longer wish her to be my personal servant.”
“I believe our most menial task would be seeing to the geese.” She looked down her pointed nose at Magdalen.
“Yes, that is the best task for her.” Agnes narrowed her eyes. “She cannot unleash her sharp tongue on anyone, gossiping and lying, which is her wont, for there will be no one around except the geese.”
The guard hurried up the steps and through the front door, which was guarded by two more soldiers. He disappeared inside, then several moments later he returned, accompanied by four servants who rushed toward the cart, gathered all their things, and carried them back up the steps and into the castle.
A middle-aged man with dark hair mixed with white emerged from the castle door and met them at the top of the steps.
Frau Clara said, “Lady Magdalen, this is Lord Hazen, the duke’s uncle.”
Agnes smiled at Lord Hazen, a short, balding man with small eyes.
“Frau Clara,” Lord Hazen said, “take Lady Magdalen’s servants to their quarters while I show the lady to her room.”
As Magdalen and Erlich walked away, Lord Hazen said, “The duke is not feeling well this evening, but I believe you will get a chance to meet him in the morning.”
The rest of their conversation was lost as Frau Clara hurried Magdalen along.
“No dawdling. And if you think you shall be turning your sharp tongue on me, you shall regret it. We do not accept such behavior here from our servants. You will find yourself without a position at all. You can sleep in the maidservants’ quarters and take your meals with the other servants. I expect Katrin will be pleased to let you take her place with the geese. She’s been asking to be promoted to the kitchen.”
Magdalen said nothing, her cheeks burning at the unjust scolding. What would the woman say when she discovered she’d been speaking this way to the actual Lady Magdalen?
And what if the duke did not realize Agnes was an imposter before Magdalen could convince him he was making a mistake? The thought of the Duke of Wolfberg marrying Agnes made Magdalen’s stomach churn. Her people needed her to help them have enough food again. She could not allow Agnes to ruin Mallin.
How furious Mother would be at Magdalen for allowing this to happen.
Frau Clara led her outside. They passed the kitchen, which was a detached brick building only two feet from a side door of the large stone castle. They descended a series of steps built into the grass-covered mountainside until they curved to the right and revealed a gaggle of geese and a young woman beside them.
Frau Clara put her hands up and cupped the sides of her mouth. “Katrin!”
The maiden looked up in the last rays of the bright-orange sunset, herding the geese with a stick toward a small stone structure. The birds waddled right inside. Katrin closed the door and bent to lock it, then ascended the steps toward them.
“Katrin, this is Agnes. She is taking your place as goose girl, and you will go to work in the kitchen forthwith.”
Katrin’s eyes brightened as the smile stretched across her face. “Truly?”
“I don’t know why you are so joyous. Working in the kitchen is hardly better than being the goose girl.”
“Oh, it is so much better. Thank you, Frau Clara.” She grasped the house frau’s hand and grinned up at her. Then she turned to Magdalen and clasped her hand as well. “Thank you ever so much.” Katrin darted past them, her feet tapping up the steps.
“You saw where Katrin put the geese. You will take them out every morning to forage in the meadows and along the hillside, wherever you find grass, and put them away every evening at sunset. If you lose any of the geese, you shall be severely punished. Now, come along and you can have your supper with the other servants.”
Magdalen opened her mouth to ask a question, but Frau Clara set a fast pace as she climbed the steep steps again. Magdalen hurried to keep up.
They entered a dim room where the only light came in through one window. A man came in behind Magdalen carrying a torch. He lit the torches attached to the wall. Several other servants stood in line, accepting food from a woman handing out wooden bowls and bread rolls. Then they sat at a long wooden trestle table.
“Get in line for your food,” Frau Clara said. “Katrin!” She called to the goose girl, who stood in the queue. “Show Agnes to the servants’ quarters after you finish your meal, and help her find a bed tonight.”
“Yes, Frau Clara.” Katrin smiled at Magdalen and waved her over. “You can get in front of me, since you are new. Do you live here in Wolfberg? I’ve never seen you before.”
Magdalen was thinking about how to answer her when a man yelled, “Who do you think you are?”
The man behind Katrin leaned toward Magdalen with a fierce scowl in his eyes. “You cannot cut in front of the rest of us. We were here before you.”
“Leave her alone, Hanns.” Katrin pushed his shoulder, even though she was a head shorter than he and only half as wide. “She just got here. Can’t you see you’re scaring her? But you don’t scare me, so quiet down.” She turned back to Magdalen and whispered, “Don’t pay any attention to him.”
“What’s your name?” The man peered around Katrin’s shoulder. He was smiling now and missing at least two teeth.
Katrin scrunched her face and shook her head. Someone distracted the man and he turned around.
“Thank you,” Magdalen whispered.
“You don’t want Hanns to ever start talking to you. He will make you want to slap his face in less time than it takes to tell him to go jump in the Baltic Sea.” Katrin widened her eyes and shook her head again.
They had reached the front of the line. A large woman with a cloth around her hair handed them each a bowl and a roll of bread. After they sat at the table, Magdalen lifted her spoon. It appeared to be pea porridge thickened with oats.
The woman sitting across from them made a growling sound deep in her throat. “Before the young duke left to get his education in Prague, we had meat in our porridge—a little bacon at least.” She looked with disgust at the porridge on her spoon.
Katrin scooped some food into her mouth, then scrunched her face and quickly took a bite of her bread roll.
Magdalen’s stomach rumbled, so she took a bite of the porridge, then followed it with a quick bite of bread. It did not taste terrible. But it also did not taste good. After a few more bites, she began to feel queasy, and she just finished her bread. The other servants mopped out their bowls with the last morsels of their bread, then put away the bowls and spoons.
“Not eating that?” Hanns stood behind her, pointing at her bowl.
She shook her head and gave it to him.
“Come,” Katrin whispered, “before he asks you your name again.”
They hustled out the door of the servants’ dining hall. It was nearly dark now, and Katrin led her around the grassy area behind the castle. They proceeded toward a row of wooden buildings.
“Where did you say you came from?” Katrin asked.
“I am from Mallin.”
“And what is your name?”
If she told Katrin the truth, word might get back to Agnes, and she might have Magdalen thrown into the dungeon. However, she could not bring herself to say her name was Agnes either.
“You can call me Maggie.”
“Maggie? That’s an unusual name. I know three other Katrins in Arnsbaden. One came here with me and works as a servant in the castle—she does things like change the bedsheets for the duke’s family. Although he hardly has any family anymore since his grandmother died two years ago. Only his uncle is staying in the castle, and Lord Hazen brought all new indoor servants with him from Arnsbaden. But the young duke has just arrived back in Wolfberg.”
“He was in Prague, was he not?”
“Yes. They have a university there where men educate themselves about all sorts of matters. Been there for almost two years. I cannot imagine how there could be enough books to study to keep oneself occupied for two years, can you? He must know so much by now. What do you suppose he studied? I don’t even know how to read or write, but it probably would be too difficult for me to learn.”
“I could teach you to read,” Magdalen said.
Katrin stared at her, open-mouthed. “Truly? And you think I could learn?”
“I should think so, and very quickly too. I enjoy teaching others to read.”
“I am not sure Lord Hazen would approve of that.” Katrin’s brows drew together. “Perhaps you should not tell anyone you know how to read.”
Yes, perhaps she had not been wise to reveal that information. She should be asking Katrin for information.
“When did you say the duke arrived back in Wolfberg?”
“Only in the last day or two.”
But Katrin must be mistaken. Had the duke written asking her to marry him while he was still in Prague? Why would he ask her to come immediately to Wolfberg if he might not arrive before she did?
They entered the maidservants’ barracks and Katrin led Magdalen to her bed. Magdalen stared down at the narrow bed she would have to sleep on . . . for how long? How long would she be a goose girl and herd geese? How long would people think she was a servant and Agnes was the daughter of a baron? Magdalen had thought she would be sleeping on a giant featherbed as the soon-to-be Duchess of Wolfberg.
And she had thought she would see the duke again, would be able to speak to him, to learn why he wanted to marry her and make her his wife. Now she wasn’t sure if that would ever happen. What would become of Mallin’s people? Would they all starve?
Somehow Magdalen would find a way to get back into the castle and warn the Duke of Wolfberg—in case he did not already realize it—that the woman pretending to be Lady Magdalen was actually an imposter.