The Healer’s Apprentice

Rose turned just long enough to nod at him.

 

She’d left Wolfie at the castle, since she couldn’t bring him into church. It felt strange to walk alone, without her constant companion. She made her way down the street, feeling the hard, uneven cobblestones through her thin slippers. Breathing deeply of the morning air, she realized she was smiling to herself. How good it had felt to look up and see Lord Rupert beside her. How good he had looked, in his white shirt, his smile warming her to her toes.

 

How good it felt to be loved.

 

Rose kept her eyes on the cobblestones, not really seeing the road at all. When a shadow fell across her path, she looked up. A man, tall and angular underneath his long black robe, stood in her path. His eyes raked her up and down.

 

Peter Brunckhorst.

 

She stopped short, but he stepped forward and grabbed her arm. He started to drag her toward a narrow alley between two shoemaker shops.

 

“Let go!” Rose started to scream, but he clamped his hand over her mouth, crushing her lips against her teeth, his fingertips digging into her face. Where was everyone? The street was deserted.

 

Rose stared into his small black eyes. She had to get away. Her heart pounded painfully against her chest. His rotten breath huffed on the back of her neck. She tried to turn her head but his grip was too strong.

 

Since he’d stopped just out of plain sight of the street, in the edge of the alley, she decided to bide her time and see what he planned to do. She could kick and claw him, but he was too strong. He would simply overpower her. And he might drag her down the alley where no one would be able to see or hear her struggling.

 

His hand continued to crush her face. She tasted blood from her teeth cutting the inside of her mouth. Desperation and a compulsion to fight back swelled inside her. She breathed through her nose in order to stay conscious while she calculated how she could hurt him the most.

 

“You think you’re the darling of the duke’s family now, do you?” He hissed in her ear. “Well, I’ve had my eye on you. Your pretty face gives you away.” The corners of his mouth curled back in a sneer.

 

What was he talking about? He must be a lunatic. She started to feel dizzy as she struggled to breathe.

 

“You won’t get away from me. And when you least expect it, I’ll come for you. You can’t escape the destiny I have planned for you.” His sinister grin grew, and he turned her, pulling her against his chest, still holding her by her face. He let go of her arm with his other hand and pulled something out of his pocket. It looked like a small pouch. He started speaking in a strange tongue, chanting in a strained, hollow voice. He opened the pouch with his teeth and sprinkled a gray-green powder over her head.

 

He’d let go with one hand. This was her opportunity to act. She twisted her body as violently as she could, catching him off guard. Then she slammed her elbow into his throat.

 

His grip loosened. Rose jerked forward, freeing herself. She grabbed her skirt and ran out of the alley. Her heart beat so hard it hurt her chest but she didn’t slow her pace. She tried to listen for footsteps behind her. But she could only hear the pounding of blood in her ears, keeping time with her feet on the cobblestones.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 12

 

 

She ran until she passed through the castle gate, across the courtyard, and into the chambers of the southwest tower, slamming the heavy door behind her. Gasping for breath, she sank, trembling, onto a nearby bench, then to the floor, wrapping her arms around herself. She sucked in the stale air like someone who had just survived drowning.

 

“O God, thank you for saving me…O Jesus…O God.”

 

“Rose?” Frau Geruscha’s voice seemed dim and far away. “Rose, what in the world—”

 

She felt hands on her arms and looked up. Dazed, she concentrated on Frau Geruscha’s face. “He grabbed me. But he didn’t hurt me. I’m not hurt.”

 

Frau Geruscha lifted her and helped her sit on the bench. “Who? Tell me everything. What happened?” Frau Geruscha’s voice sounded tight.

 

Rose took a deep breath. “I was walking from the cathedral after the service and Peter Brunckhorst was standing in front of me.”

 

“Peter Brunckhorst? Who is that?”

 

“The wool merchant my mother wants me to marry. He was standing in front of me and grabbed me.” Rose’s voice began to quiver. “He put his hand over my mouth and dragged me into the alley.” A tear slid down her cheek and she wiped it away with the back of her hand. Her hands trembled like a butterfly’s wings. “I hit him in the throat with my elbow and ran away.”

 

“Oh, my dear.” Frau Geruscha wrapped her arms around her. “You’re safe now. We’ll take care of this, don’t you worry. The duke does not let incidents like this go unpunished.” She said the last sentence with extra feeling and pulled away to look in Rose’s face. “I’m so proud of you for getting away.”

 

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