Book of the Night, Page 2

  “But that’s not so,” his mother replied. “You are both my children, and I love you both the same. Just in a different way,” she added after a pause.

  Sophia von Lohenfels had friendly, intelligent eyes that made her look older than her thirty or so years. Despite her position as lady of the castle, she usually wore a simple linen dress like that of a farm woman. Her husband sometimes scolded her for this, but Sophia liked being among the common folk and in the small towns, where she was recognized as an experienced healer. Some people whispered that she had magic powers. They also spoke of her miraculous healings, flowers blooming in the middle of winter, and soup that suddenly appeared in an empty kettle.

  Once, when Lukas was very young, it almost came to a court trial, as the lady had aroused suspicions of witchcraft. But naturally, that was nonsense, as Lukas knew.

  “Let Elsa go with you on your next trip to the villages,” Lukas suggested. “Someday she’ll surely be a great healer like you, and I’ll be a great fighter and hunter like Father.”

  “Oh-ho! It sounds to me like someone doesn’t want to do his Latin lessons,” Sophia replied, waving her finger playfully at her son. “Until you finish them, you’re not going anywhere, young man.”

  Lukas rolled his eyes, and his mother gave him a kiss. “So we’ll wait and see what happens tomorrow,” she reassured him. “But now let’s go and eat.”

  Lukas hadn’t eaten a thing since morning and suddenly realized how hungry he was. Shortly afterward, the servants brought in steaming platters of leg of deer and wild boar and hot, fragrant loaves of bread. His father also came and took a seat. Then they all joined hands and gave a prayer of thanks while Lukas was absorbed in thoughts of the next day’s hunt. Would he shoot a wild boar with his crossbow? Or perhaps even a large stag?

  It took a while before he realized how sad his father looked. Silently, the great man sipped wine from his chalice. Something seemed to be bothering him.

  “Are you all right?” his wife asked as she pushed a platter in front of him with a large piece of meat. “Have you received some bad news?”

  Friedrich nodded. “Indeed. Over in Saxony, the accursed Swedes have dealt a disastrous defeat to Tilly’s army. A messenger just arrived with the news, and he says we have lost more than twelve thousand men.”

  “Does that mean that Tilly will lose the war?” Lukas asked between bites. A slight wave of anxiety came over him. Along with the Catholic Kaiser, it had been General Tilly who until then had held his protective hand over Lohenfels Castle and its inhabitants. If he was defeated, or even dead, what would happen to them?

  “Tilly is a tough customer,” his father replied, “but I’m afraid I shall soon have to return to the war. The army now needs every man.”

  “Then are you going to leave us again?” Elsa asked quietly.

  “Eventually, yes.” Friedrich sighed, then a smile suddenly spread over his face. “But not today, and not tomorrow, either.” He raised his glass of red wine as he pushed the jug of sweet apple cider across the table to his children. “And now let’s all drink together. To the best kids and the best wife that can be found in all of the Palatinate.”

  The cups and glasses clinked, and Lukas’s fear subsided with each delightful sip. Father would protect them, as he always had. They were the Lohenfels family, loyal friends of the Kaiser. How could anyone do them any harm? Here in their castle, they were safe.

  His mother’s eyes sparkled as she served the dessert—cheesecake with hot raspberries, his favorite.

  “Happy birthday, Lukas.” His mother smiled.

  Lukas spooned up the warm, sweet compote while behind him a fire crackled in the fireplace, and he felt warm and secure. He didn’t know this was the last evening he would spend in the company of his family.

  Soon after, Lukas lay awake in bed, watching the flickering shadows cast on the wall by the tallow candles.

  In the second bed lay Elsa, leafing with fascination through a dog-eared book she had taken from the castle library, full of colorful drawings of the strangest animals—dragons with three heads, sea serpents with wide-open mouths, and lions with the tail of a scorpion.

  “What is that, for heaven’s sake?” Lukas asked after a while, yawning. The day had been long and strenuous, and he was having trouble keeping his eyes open.

  “This? A book about animals in far-off Africa,” she told him. “It’s rather exciting, and there’s a lot you can learn from it.”

  “But it’s in Latin!” Lukas replied, shaking his head. “How can anything be exciting when it’s written in Latin?”

  “It isn’t really so difficult. I already know most of the words from our schoolbooks—leo, for example, that means lion. And a mantichora is—”

  “Oh, just stop!” Lukas interrupted. “It’s enough that Mother torments me with that. I don’t need to hear it from my little sister, too.”

  “Then it’s your loss. Just stay dumb. But don’t come begging me for help when a horrible manticore attacks you.”

  Elsa became absorbed in her book again while Lukas tried to think of some smart reply. But he couldn’t think of anything. Sometimes his sister really made him furious, but then there were other moments when he loved her more than anything in the world. Lukas could remember how he’d held Elsa in his arms when she was an infant. She was so tiny and fragile! He’d held her hand when she took her first steps, and fed her, and sung her to sleep. In all these years, a bond had grown between them that occasional quarrels could not destroy.

  Still, he was furious beyond words that Elsa wanted to take part in the hunt the next day. Who was he, anyway? Her nursemaid? Fighting and hunting were for men, not for women, especially a woman who tormented him with Latin words.

  At the same moment, it occurred to Lukas that he hadn’t done his Latin lessons. His mother had made it clear he wouldn’t be allowed to go on the hunt until he’d finished his exercises.

  “Elsa?” he asked hesitantly. “Uh, I have a proposal for you. You can go on the hunt with us tomorrow if—”

  “I’ll help you with your Latin lessons before breakfast,” Elsa interrupted with a yawn. “Is that what you wanted to say?”

  Lukas was shocked. Sometimes Elsa really seemed to be clairvoyant, a gift she had probably gotten from her mother.

  “Ah . . . yes,” he replied. “Would you really do that for me?”

  “Yes, but only on one condition. That you let me sleep next to you.” She laid the book aside and looked over at him nervously. “These stories about manticores and fire-spitting dragons are more gruesome than I realized.”

  Lukas nodded with a smile, and Elsa crawled into his bed, where she soon fell sound asleep, her little body gently cuddled against his own. He could feel her warm skin against his shirt, and then, finally, he drifted off to sleep as well.

  Sometimes little sisters could be a nuisance, but sometimes you needed to have them there.

  II

  When Lukas awakened the next morning, he noticed at once that something was wrong. Father was standing straight as an arrow alongside his bed, and his face looked dark and tense. He was staring through the little window that opened onto the courtyard with a look that suggested he felt the presence of something infinitely evil lurking outside. It was still early morning, and the sun had not yet risen.

  “Quick, wake your sister and go over to the keep,” his father ordered. “I want you to hide down below in the dungeon. That’s the safest place to be, do you understand?”

  “In the dungeon?” Lukas replied, confused and rubbing his tired eyes. “But why—”

  “Don’t ask, just do what I tell you,” his father interrupted harshly. “And stay there until you hear from me.” Without another word, he turned and left the room.

  Immediately, Lukas was wide-awake. He had never seen Father like this. It almost seemed that the brave warrior was terribly afraid of something. When Lukas hurried to the window, he saw in the dim light about two dozen strangers on horseback
in front of the castle. Could they be enemy soldiers? Were they the Swedes his father had spoken of?

  Quickly, he put on his shirt, leather jacket, and trousers, and then he wakened Elsa, who was still sleeping soundly beside him.

  But his sister just turned aside, groaning. “We’ve got until the next cock’s crow,” she mumbled. “The sun isn’t even up yet.”

  Lukas bit his lip. Father had ordered him to seek refuge in the keep with Elsa as soon as possible. If he got into a long discussion now, it might be too late; so he decided to try a trick.

  “Come, we’ll play a game,” he said, trying to sound calm and cheerful. “We’ll hide in the dungeon, and Father will have to come and look for us. How about it?”

  “Hide in the dungeon?” With sleepy eyes and tousled hair, she sat up in bed. Now she’d become curious. “I thought we were going hunting today.”

  “Ah, yes, but not right away. We have to wait for the beaters to get here from town.”

  Elsa grimaced. “Ugh, it stinks in the dungeon, and there are rats. I don’t want to go down there.”

  “But it’s the best hiding place in the whole castle,” Lukas whispered. “Father will never find us there. Come on, sissy.”

  “Oh, very well.” She looked at him suspiciously. “But don’t think you can lock me up there and go hunting alone with Father. I’m not that stupid.”

  Reluctantly and still half asleep in her nightgown, Elsa let Lukas lead her out of the room. Down in the courtyard, a few excited servants had already gathered in the semidarkness while Friedrich von Lohenfels stood in their midst giving them orders that Lukas couldn’t hear. Two of the watchmen were already lowering the drawbridge and preparing to open the gate.

  Clearly, the men arriving at the castle aren’t Swedes, Lukas thought. So why then all this excitement?

  “What are the servants doing?” Elsa asked.

  “They’re letting the beaters in. Now come, before Father sees us.”

  A few minutes later, Lukas and Elsa had reached the keep. The tower, with its three-foot-thick stone walls, was the safest part of the castle. It was here that the residents withdrew during a siege. A steep wooden stairway led along the outside to a massive door about thirty feet above the courtyard. Inside the tower was a trapdoor and a ladder leading down into the stinking dungeon. The stump of a torch was still burning in a bracket close to the opened trapdoor.

  “Down that way,” Lukas ordered and reached for the torch. “Hurry!”

  He climbed down the ladder with Elsa and quickly shut the trapdoor above them. The torch cast a faint light only about four or five feet ahead of them, and somewhere in the darkness, they could hear rats squeaking. There was also a horrible stench of feces and mold.

  “This is a really dumb place to hide,” Elsa grumbled. “I want to go back up and get dressed for the hunt.”

  “You . . . can’t do that now,” Lukas stammered, looking for some excuse. “Father would see us and we would lose the game. We’ll have to wait down here for a while, whether we like it or not.”

  “Well . . . if we absolutely have to, then later on you’ll let me use the crossbow. Promise?”

  Lukas nodded absentmindedly. They crouched down on the damp straw in the dim light of the torch. After a while they could hear muffled voices up above. Evidently, the strangers had now entered the courtyard, but all they could hear were a few scraps of conversation.

  Finally, Lukas couldn’t stand it anymore. He had to find out what was going on up there . . . despite his promise to his father.

  “Listen,” he said to his sister, “I’m going up to look around and see where Father is. Perhaps we can surprise him.”

  “But I don’t want to stay down here alone,” Elsa whined. “I’m afraid, and it’s cold. You only want to lock me up here, admit it!”

  “I’ll leave the trapdoor open, all right?” Lukas suggested. “And you’ll have the torch. But you have to promise me you’ll stay down here, or . . .” He wagged his finger at her. “Later I won’t let you use the crossbow, do you understand?”

  Hesitantly, Elsa nodded. Then Lukas climbed up the ladder and opened the trapdoor as quietly as possible. He still couldn’t make out anything clearly, so he decided to open the door of the keep just a crack.

  Through the opening, he could see a few foreign-looking men on horseback. They were wearing black pantaloons, breastplates, and helmets with the tall crest worn by Spanish mercenaries. Lukas knew that the Spaniards were allies of the Kaiser. But who was the haggard, distinguished-looking monk on the freshly groomed black horse? He was wearing a snow-white cowl with a black cape and a silk cap over his thinning blond hair. His nose protruded from his pale face like the beak of a bird of prey. He was talking to Lukas’s father, who was standing with arms crossed in front of the prancing horse.

  “Evidence against your wife keeps growing,” the man was saying. “We will take her to Heidelberg for a thorough questioning.”

  “No one is going to take my Sophia away,” Friedrich von Lohenfels retorted, moving forward a step. “You tried once before to accuse my wife of witchcraft, and I won’t let you take her away from me again.”

  Instinctively, Lukas recoiled. These men were no hostile mercenaries, but they also weren’t allies. They’d come to accuse his mother of being a witch, and Lukas knew what they did with witches. They were tortured and finally burned at the stake so that none of their evil flesh would be left on earth.

  “You forget that I am a free knight of the empire,” his father continued. “The Kaiser and General Tilly both stand behind me. Do you really want to pick a fight with them? You tried once, and failed.”

  The monk waved dismissively. “The Kaiser is far away, and Tilly has his hands full with the Swedes. Besides, times have changed since our last meeting.” With a triumphant smile, he produced a document with a large red seal. “See here. None less than the pope has appointed me grand inquisitor, which means I have permission from the Church to put an end to heretical activities and hunt down witches. So tell me, where is the witch?”

  “If by that you mean my wife, she is not here,” Friedrich replied defiantly. “She’s visiting relatives down on the Rhine.”

  “Aha! Visiting relatives . . . How kind of her.” The monk laughed softly. “Then you’ll surely have no objection if we search your castle.” He turned to the Spanish mercenaries. “Turn over every stone here.”

  Horrified, Lukas watched as an especially large soldier approached the keep with his loaded crossbow. He could already hear the steps creaking as the huge man headed up toward the door. He had a long scar across his right cheek.

  At that moment, Sophia von Lohenfels stepped out onto the balcony of the castle.

  “You can spare yourself the trouble, Waldemar von Schönborn,” she declared, her eyes flashing. “Here I am. Take me. I have a clear conscience.”

  Lukas put his hand to his mouth so he wouldn’t cry out. Why had his mother done that? Why hadn’t she just hidden as he and Elsa had done? Now all was lost.

  The monk smiled grimly, then gave a sign to his henchmen. “Seize the witch!”

  “Noooooo!”

  It was Friedrich von Lohenfels who had shouted. Brandishing his sword and bellowing furiously, he ran toward the grand inquisitor. At the same moment, the soldier on the stairway to the keep pointed his crossbow at the knight. There was a soft click, and the bolt penetrated Friedrich’s chest. He staggered a few paces before collapsing directly in front of the monk’s horse.

  “You . . . dog,” he groaned. “God . . . damn you . . .”

  As the knight tried to stagger to his feet again, a second bolt pierced the base of his neck. A slight trembling passed through his muscular body, and then he went limp. Blood mixed with the dirt in the courtyard.

  “This is what will happen to all enemies of the true faith!” the inquisitor cried, turning to the servants of the castle who were standing there in the courtyard, paralyzed with fear. “Let that be a lesson to
you.”

  By now the mercenaries had reached the balcony, where Sophia von Lohenfels let herself be led away without resistance. She glanced once up at the keep, as a final farewell to her two children.

  Lukas heard a quiet moan nearby and, turning around, saw that Elsa had also climbed the ladder and was now standing directly behind him.

  “What . . . is happening?” she asked anxiously. “Where are our parents?”

  Lukas could find no words to reply and began to sob silently. Now Elsa, too, began to cry, first softly and then louder and louder. She had seen her lifeless father lying in the courtyard. The growing pool of blood flowing from Friedrich’s neck left no doubt that he was dead.

  “I want to go to Mother, I want to go to Mother,” Elsa kept repeating, like a magical incantation. “I want to—”

  “Quiet!” Lukas gasped. “They’ll hear us. You must—”

  But it was too late. The monk was already gazing up at the keep.

  “The children!” he cried. “They’re in there. Bring me the girl alive, quickly, but kill the boy.”

  For a moment, Lukas froze, then started looking around frantically for an escape route. A stone stairway led to the second floor, where there was a larger window they might be able to slip through. He grabbed his crying sister, and together they ran up the steps, while below them they could hear the heavy pounding of the mercenaries’ boots.

  The window was on the west side and about ten feet above the roof of a shed. Lukas might be able to jump down onto the sloping roof and from there reach the castle wall, but how about Elsa? Could she?

  “We have to jump, Elsa,” he said, pointing to the roof. “Come on, jump!”

  But Elsa just shook her head, in a state of shock. “That’s a stupid game,” she wailed. “I . . . don’t want to play anymore.”

  “Damn it, this is no longer a game!” Lukas shouted. “Now hurry up and jump!”

  But Elsa just kept shaking her head and crying. Down below, some men had already reached the bottom of the stairs. Lukas recalled what the grand inquisitor had said. For some reason he would be killed now, but not Elsa. Why? What did this monster intend to do with Elsa? He had no time to think it over; he had to make a decision. If he stayed here, they would kill him like a dog, and if he ran away, he would be a coward. But he wouldn’t be of any use to anyone if he was dead. And Elsa needed him, whatever the inquisitor’s plan was for her.