Sophie felt oddly relieved that they wouldn’t be going to Hagenheim right away, and she didn’t want to ask herself why.
“I see you have an injury to your arm. Take off the bandage, please, and come with me downstairs so that I may examine it.”
Sophie swallowed, not relishing having a strange man look at the cut on her arm. But she turned to follow him downstairs while she undid the makeshift dressing.
Sophie sat in a chair while all seven of the men, plus Walther, stared curiously at her. She felt herself blush from the sudden attention. Bartel came close and instructed Sophie to hold her arm near the candles beside her. After a few moments’ scrutiny, he said, “I can sew it up for you, or you can leave it as it is and hope it heals properly.”
Sophie didn’t like the idea of this man touching her arm and certainly didn’t like the idea of him sewing her flesh.
“I appreciate your offer, Bartel, but I think it will be well to let it heal on its own.”
He didn’t say anything, only produced a linen bandage from his copious sleeve. He wrapped the bandage tightly around her arm, then tied it in place.
“I will want to check it in the morning,” Bartel said.
“Thank you.”
After Bartel stood and excused himself from the room, each of the cottage men exchanged a playful look and nodded. Dominyk moved a drum from the corner and sat behind it, while Siggy reached for a lute very much like the one Gabe had had with him in Hohendorf. Gotfrid, meanwhile, sat with his arms crossed in front of his chest, a hat now partially covering the bald spot and massive scar on the side of his head. Heinric sat smiling with his entire face — his entire body, it seemed — as he squirmed in his seat and clapped his hands. Beside him, Dolf leaned forward, as if anticipating something wonderful but willing to wait patiently for it. Vincz sat in a chair, his head drooping to one side, obviously falling asleep with his mouth hanging open.
Dominyk began beating the drum rhythmically with his hands, and after three beats, Siggy strummed the strings of the lute, causing Vincz to jolt upright and his eyes to open.
As a song began to emerge, Dominyk looked over to Sophie. “The men asked if we could play something for you before dinner. I hope you enjoy it.”
Walther motioned with his hand for Sophie to sit in the wood chair next to him. She did so, and smiled at Dominyk in thanks for the festivities, but worried that the men’s music might disturb Gabe. What Bartel had given him to drink would, she hoped, keep him asleep.
Heinric erupted in happy gurgling noises and bounced up and down in his chair when Siggy began to sing. Siggy’s voice flowed effortlessly, even though he had hardly been able to string two words together without stuttering a few minutes before.
Gotfrid continued sitting with his arms folded, a grumpy scowl still on his face. Sophie might be imagining it, but Gotfrid seemed to relax a bit when the music started. He seemed to be pretending to scowl, as if he didn’t want anyone to know he was enjoying himself.
Vincz’s eyelids were almost closed again. Soon they fell shut and his head drifted down onto his shoulder as he fell asleep again.
Dolf sat between the two music makers, one of his big hands on the back of each of their chairs. He was patting his foot in rhythm with Dominyk’s drumming.
Walther was tapping his foot as well, a slight smile on his weathered face. She only wished Gabe were well enough to join the band. She would love to hear him play and sing along with these woodsmen. That was what she decided to call them for that was how they were dressed, in tough leather breeches and thick woolens.
After the first song, Siggy and Dominyk stopped playing and Siggy stood up. He opened his mouth to say something, but — after obvious effort during which he looked like he was going to sneeze — he closed his mouth and hooked his thumb over his shoulder toward the kitchen, looking sheepish. Then he turned and went through the kitchen door.
Next, Heinric stood up, his face bright and smiling, as he made happy grunting sounds. He was staring right at Sophie, and he flung his arms out in front of him and started toward her. Immediately Dolf jumped up and met Heinric halfway across the floor. He shook his head at Heinric and blocked him forcefully with his body.
Heinric’s grunts turned angry, but Dolf simply shook his head.
“No, Heinric,” Dominyk said firmly. “No hugging. Don’t hug the girl. She does not know you.”
Heinric’s face scrunched up like a child about to cry. “Girl!”
“The girl does not want you to hug her.” Dominyk added, pronouncing the words carefully, “Girl, no hug.”
“Girl … no hug,” Heinric whimpered.
“Now go into the kitchen with Dolf.”
Dolf was already herding Heinric toward the kitchen door, patting the giant man on the shoulder.
Dominyk looked up at Sophie. “He may still try to hug you, but don’t let him. He doesn’t know his own strength.”