Rose now saw Lord Rupert every morning at prime, when she went with Frau Geruscha to the chapel for prayers. He also came to Frau Geruscha’s chambers once a day, if only for a minute. He often brought Wolfie a bone he had pilfered from the kitchen, meat still clinging to it. He hadn’t tried to kiss her hand since Midsummer’s Eve, but if Rose read his looks correctly, his feelings for her had not waned.
Three weeks after Midsummer’s Eve, a man stumbled into the healer’s chambers clutching a cloth to his head. Thank the Lord of heaven, Frau Geruscha was there to tend to his injury. His ax head had slipped off its handle and grazed his temple. Frau Geruscha examined the wound and proclaimed the man quite blessed to still be alive. A little closer to the skull and he would be dead. As it was, the cut was shallow and would not require stitches. She reached for the roll of bandages in Rose’s hand.
A timid voice called to her from the door. “Rose, are you busy?”
“Hildy.”
“I don’t need you right now, Rose, if you want to go talk to Hildy,” Frau Geruscha said, not taking her eyes off her patient.
Rose stepped outside the door to where Hildy was standing. Her eyes were red and puffy, as though she had been crying. Rose’s heart filled with dread, and Hildy’s hands trembled as she reached out to her.
Rose squeezed Hildy’s hands. “What’s wrong?”
Hildy swallowed then whispered, “Can we go upstairs? I have to tell you something.”
“Of course.” Rose looped Hildy’s arm through hers and walked to the stairs. Her heart tripped nervously as she wondered what could be the matter.
Once they were inside Rose’s tiny room and she had shut the door behind them, Hildy began to cry—a soft, high-pitched sound.
“Arnold Hintzen tried to hurt me.” She bent over, sobs shaking her whole body.
Rose pulled Hildy into her arms and let the horrifying words sink in. Arnold Hintzen was the young man who had always prodded her to go places with him. He’d always made her shudder, with his mean eyes and persistence. Rose patted Hildy’s back and stroked her hair while she cried. Her blood boiled with anger, but she would stay calm, for Hildy.
“Will you tell me what happened?”
Hildy made an effort to stop crying and lifted her head off Rose’s shoulder. She took several jerky breaths, wiping her face with her apron. “Last night I went to the privy.” Her voice quavered with every word. “When I came out, someone stepped out of the dark and grabbed me.” She started to cry again, but soon controlled herself enough to go on. “It was too dark to see, and I didn’t know who it was. He pushed me down on the ground and told me if I screamed he would cut my throat. He flashed a knife in front of me.”
Hildy trembled all over, even though Rose held her tight.
“He got on top of me and tore my dress. I told him that if he didn’t stop I would tell Lord Hamlin and he would have him hanged. He said, ‘You can’t. You know not who I am.’ And that was when I just suddenly knew. I suppose I recognized his voice. I said, ‘Yes I do, Arnold Hintzen, and I will see you swinging from a noose.’”
Tears slid down both cheeks. She looked pale and weak.
“He slapped me and punched me in the stomach. Then he got up and left.”
Rose felt hollow and sick. “Oh, Hildy. I’m so sorry. But thank God he left.” Tears slid down her own cheeks as she closed her eyes and let the horror sweep over her at what her friend had suffered—and how much worse it could have been. It made her incident with Peter Brunckhorst seem mild.
“Have you told the bailiff?”
“Not yet.”
“Do you want me to go with you?” She thought of the bailiff’s expression the last time she’d seen him. What if he thought she had made up her incident with Peter Brunckhorst? Rose’s heart sank. Bailiff Eckehart might not trust Rose anymore. How horrible for Hildy if he were to question her honesty after such a horrible event. “Or Frau Geruscha would go with you.”
Voices echoed up the stairs, and Rose got up and opened the door.
“Rose!” Frau Geruscha’s voice called her from the bottom of the stairs. “Can you come down?”
“Yes.” She turned to Hildy. “I’ll be back.”
At the bottom of the stairs, Gunther stood waiting, his face flushed and his eyes flashing.
“Rose, may I speak with you?” he asked.
“Of course.”
Gunther motioned for her to precede him, and they walked outside into the courtyard.
“Rose, have you seen Hildy today?”
“Yes, she’s upstairs in my chamber.”
Gunther’s jaw went rigid as he stared across the courtyard. “From the way I see things, there’s no need to tell the bailiff about this.” He turned his eyes on Rose. “Hildy’s brother and I will take care of it.”
“What do you mean?” But Rose knew already.
“Tonight, we’ll see that justice is done. There’s no need to humiliate Hildy—again.”
“Are you certain, Gunther? Perhaps it’s best to allow the bailiff to handle this.”