God, please let there be some men’s garments in here.
She found a fitted, thigh-length tunic of fine linen — a summer garment and not very warm — and a pair of woolen hose. There were no other blankets or clothing, only some rough bags made of hemp for gathering and storing grain.
She tucked the clothes under her arm and went back down the ladder.
The little boy was still staring at her. He was a handsome child. Though he was too thin, his eyes were bright and intelligent. “What is your name?” she asked him.
He simply stared.
“How old are you? Five years old?”
Slowly he opened his mouth, as if his mouth was not used to moving. “My name is Toby.”
“That is a fine name, Toby. And how old are you?”
He stared at her with those big eyes. Finally he shook his head.
“You don’t know?”
He shook his head.
“Do you have a mother? Or father?”
“My mother and father are dead and buried in the church yard.”
The poor thing. How Mother would adore him and take care of him and fatten him up. If only she could take him home. “Who do you belong to?”
His lip seemed to tremble a moment before he said, “Master Steinbek.”
“Are these his horses?”
He nodded.
“And where do you sleep? Here?”
“Sometimes.” He seemed to relax a little, and they sat down together against the wall. “Sometimes I sleep in the kitchen on a bench. I must keep putting wood in the stove all night. If I let the fire go out, Cook will be angry.”
Such a small child for that task! “Do you not have any relatives who would take you in?”
“I have an aunt, but she does not want me. She says she has too many mouths to feed. She has a lot of children.” Without pausing to take a breath, he said, “Will you tell me a story?”
“Of course. I know lots of stories.” Her mother had often made up stories and wrote them down for her and her brothers and sisters. But Margaretha would tell him one of her own. “Once upon a time, there was a boy who hated injustice.”
“What is injustice?”
“Injustice is something unfair or cruel. So when the boy discovered that a wealthy man had unjustly and cruelly killed his sister’s friend, a girl the same age as his sister, the boy chased after that man to capture him and bring him back to his homeland to be punished.”
Toby stretched out on the floor and lay his head on her leg.
Margaretha laid part of her blanket over Toby, covering his bare arm and bare feet, and went on. “He caught up to the murderer, but his men beat the boy and left him for dead on the road, where he was picked up by a potter and his apprentice. The potter and his apprentice brought the boy to the great and beautiful Hagenheim Castle, where lived a wise healer who tended his wounds and gave him hot drinks made with healing herbs. Soon he was well again, but none of the people of Hagenheim Castle could understand his foreign language, as he was from a country far away.”
“What did he do then?” Toby’s sleepy voice asked.
“He got a job working in the stables of the castle when he found out that the murderer was there. There was also a beautiful princess living at the castle, and she was the only person, besides the priest, who could understand the language of the boy, since the princess was well-educated, and studious besides.” Margaretha smiled at this bit of vanity. “She and the boy found out that the murderer was plotting to take over Hagenheim and kill the excellent Duke Wilhelm who ruled over the land.”
Toby yawned noisily. “What happened then?”
“Then the noble boy and princess defeated the evil murderer.”
“Did they chop off his head?”
“Yes, and the boy and all of Hagenheim lived happily ever after.”
“Didn’t the boy marry the princess?”
Margaretha hesitated. How should she answer? She must pretend his question didn’t make her heart flutter. It was only a story, after all. “The boy and the princess were good friends, almost like brother and sister. Besides, the boy was a foreigner and didn’t want to live in Hagenheim, and the girl didn’t want to leave her family, because they were good and kind to her.” Just saying the words, however, made her heart heavy.
“That man who was here, is he your sweetheart?”
“He is only a friend.”
A movement made her turn her head. Standing in the doorway, which was open a few inches to let in the light, was Colin.
Her heart stopped in panic. How long had he been standing there?
Rain slid down his face. His hair was as black as night and water dripped off the ends onto his tunic.
But of course, he wouldn’t have understood what she was saying even if he had overheard her story, since he didn’t speak German. She jumped up to get him the dry clothes she had found.
Chapter
26