ALTDORF (The Forest Knights: Book 1) (26 page)

“You worthless bastard, I piss on you,” he said.

Gissler pulled back his leg and kicked Pirmin in the face.

Vex appeared out of nowhere and latched onto the hem of Gissler’s cloak. He shouted and spun around while Vex growled and clamped on tighter, but Gissler found his range and kicked the dog hard in the ribs. Vex seemed to fold in two and yelped from a type of pain he had not felt in his short life. He stumbled back out of harm’s reach and bared his teeth.

Gissler looked down at a tattered hole in his cloak. He drew his blade and walked towards the dog.

“Vex get out of here! Go home!” Pirmin shouted and thrashed against his bonds.

Vex’s ears perked up at his master’s voice and he looked at Pirmin with hope in his eyes. Then he wined in confusion at Pirmin’s tone.

“Vex, go home!”

The dog bared his teeth once more at Gissler and then loped a few steps away. He turned back and did not move further until Pirmin yelled at him again.

“Come here, boy!” One of the soldiers called out. Several of the men laughed and started calling the dog. A thickset, older man came forward with a loaded crossbow and lifted it to his shoulder.

“Leave him be,” Pirmin said. His voice sounded strange to his ears, as he forced the words from his swollen mouth. “I have coin in my pack.”

The man with the crossbow sighted down the length of his weapon. “Is that so? Good. I will get that as soon as I shoot your dog.”

He pulled the release. More men laughed and Pirmin closed his eyes.

“Give me another bolt,” the man said.

“You better take a few,” someone else said and laughed.

Pirmin opened his eyes and saw Vex standing further away. He paced back and forth at the forest’s edge.

“Take three men and search those woods for any sign of Melchthal,” Gissler said.

“Waste of time,” Pirmin said, his voice barely a whisper.

“And kill that damned dog.”

The four men mounted up, grinning at each other like boys about to get into mischief. They took off after Vex like nobles on a foxhunt. When the dog bolted into the woods, the soldiers dismounted and followed on foot.

***

“Here, boy. Got a nice biscuit for you.” The grey-haired soldier held out his hand and Vex raised his head, catching the scent of the biscuit.

“That is the way boy, come on out from behind that tree.”

He tossed the biscuit to the ground half way between himself and the large tree sheltering the dog. He heard his men move into place behind him, making far too much noise. He waved them back with one hand behind his back, and then raised his crossbow to his shoulder. He was determined to be the one to put a bolt between the mutt’s ribs.

A youth stepped out from behind the same tree, but on the opposite side of the dog.

“Hello,” he said raising a hand in greeting.

The soldier hollered in surprise, re-aimed his crossbow, and pulled the tickler. But the boy had already ducked back behind the tree and the quarrel tore off a heavy piece of bark as it glanced off the trunk.

“Shoot! The outlaws are—”

“Right behind you,” Noll said, finishing the soldier’s sentence.

The man-at-arms whirled at the sound of the voice and saw Noll standing with his sword drawn. It was red with blood and there was no sign of the other three soldiers. He threw the crossbow to the ground and reached for his sword, but Noll was faster. He stepped in and held the man’s wrist, preventing him from drawing the blade. Then, taking his time, he thrust his own sword into his throat.

The last sound the soldier heard was the bark of a dog.

Chapter 28

“W
OULD YOU SAY he was one of the more virtuous brethren in the Order?” Leopold asked.

“Pirmin? Virtuous?” Gissler could not help himself. His half smile turned into a chuckle before he could gain some measure of control.

“What I mean to say, my lord, is Pirmin was never one for following rules. Whether they be those of his superiors or God.”

“Ah, that is unfortunate,” Leopold said.

He turned to Bernard, his scribe standing behind him. “Be sure to make a note of that before we begin tonight.”

The scribe bowed his head and did not look up until Leopold addressed Gissler again. “But he was initiated into the Brotherhood of Saint John. There is no doubt in that, correct?”

Gissler grew tired of all this talk of Pirmin. Forced to breathe through his mouth because Pirmin had broken his nose, Gissler wanted to forget about the man. He had arrested him, his task was complete. Why did the Duke insist on pestering him with all these questions?

“Yes, he was ordained as a brother-sergeant. As were we all.”

“How old were you at the time?”

The answer to this one did not come easily. It took Gissler a few moments to respond.

“Sixteen, my lord? I cannot say for sure but Pirmin and I both share an age, and I believe the ceremony was that year.”

“So both of you served with the Black Knights for more than twenty years.” It was not a question. “Excellent. You have done well, Gissler. I know it must have been difficult to bring a brother in arms to justice after serving together for so long. But he knew where the path would lead when he chose to follow Arnold Melchthal.”

“What will happen to him my lord?”

Leopold shrugged. “He will be judged and punished according to his crimes. He is in God’s hands now.”

“As it should be,” Gissler said and crossed himself.

Leopold held out his hand and the scribe placed a rolled up piece of parchment in his hand. Red wax held the roll in place.

“For your place in bringing a dangerous outlaw to justice, I have arranged to have twelve mares and a stallion transferred to your estate.”

Leopold placed the scroll in Gissler’s hand. His eyes grew as he accepted it and his fingers felt numb and awkward in handling such a light and brittle thing. The wax bore the mark of the Duke’s own lion seal. He looked up at Leopold, who smiled and nodded.

Thirteen horses. It was a fortune in Gissler’s eyes. He stood up straighter as the generosity of the payment overtook him. Then he remembered something.

“This is most Generous, my duke. But, I have no estate. No land to raise horses on.”

“No, of course not. For I have not given you any, yet. But worry not Gissler. You will have ample opportunity to earn yourself that land. In the meantime, I have arranged for you to keep your horses in the stables at Habsburg. Of course, you will have to hire your own farrier to see to their care. And pay for their keep from your own purse.”

“Of course, my lord,” Gissler said. He could not believe what he was hearing. “Thank you.”

Leopold pointed at him. “I told you before. Our futures are entwined Gissler. You serve the Habsburg line well, and we will raise you up from the crowd.”

Thirteen horses!
All manner of thoughts ran through Gissler’s mind. He saw himself driving his herd onto his brother’s filthy pig farm and introducing himself. Then he would take Hugo and his daughter Sara with him to his own estate, where he would give his brother a job. Together they would rebuild the Gissler name. But before that, Gissler would have to hire one of the best farriers he could afford. He knew a fair bit about handling horses but almost nothing when it came to breeding them. But with a good farrier to tend the herd, in time, Gissler was sure he would have the most respected horse farm in the Aargau.

Caught up in his own daydreaming, he realized the Duke had just asked him something.

“Gissler? Did you hear what I said?”

“I am sorry my lord. My head is still shaken up from the fight this morning.”

Leopold nodded. “Your face does tell a story. I wish I were there to see it. You said the four men you sent into the woods were all hanging from trees when you found them?”

Gissler nodded. “And their eyes were cut out.”

Leopold sighed. “A nasty habit Melchthal picked up from Landenberg. I told the Vogt to be careful what he teaches these peasants.”

“Judging from the tracks, I would wager it was six men that got them.”

“And you followed them?”

“For a half hour, my lord. Then the tracks started crossing and doubling back on themselves. The men got spooked in the woods, and I did not want to walk into an ambush and lose any more, so I gave up the chase.”

Leopold smiled. “And that is why I sent you this time instead of Landenberg. He would have chased Noll and his men over a cliff. The preservation of an army is often more important than victory. I appreciate your reasoning.”

The praise was a little too sweet for Gissler’s ears so he changed the topic. “What would you have me do now, my lord? Return to the Kussnacht?”

Leopold glanced at the scroll clutched in Gissler’s hand. “In a hurry to inspect some horse flesh are you? I am afraid you will have to wait another day or two. I have some business to finish here, but then you will accompany me back to Habsburg. In the meantime, stay near. I may need you.”

Gissler bowed, “As you wish.”

Leopold dismissed Gissler and after the newly mounted twelve-foot doors closed behind him, he turned to his scribe.

“Get the manuscript and meet me at the dungeons in one hour. Bring a priest and one of
my
judges. Be sure Judge Furst knows nothing of tonight’s proceedings.”

Bernard bent his grey head and scurried from the room, looking like a nursemaid who had left her child unattended for too long.

Chapter 29

T
HE YOUNG BOY had pressed himself up so tightly against the wall in the far corner of the cell that Pirmin, half blinded by his swollen eyes, thought he was a stone at first.

“No need to fear me boy. It is your jailers who wish you ill. Not I.”

His throat, dry as rock dust, made Pirmin’s voice come out as little more than a rasp and did little to reassure the boy.

Pirmin tried his best to look as harmless as a seven-foot giant covered in blood chained hand and foot to a wall could. When that did not work, he shook his shackled arms to demonstrate he was going nowhere. This seemed to relax the boy a little, and he lowered himself into a squat but kept a watchful eye on Pirmin.

Pirmin’s chains had enough play that he could stand or sit, but neither comfortably. The beating he had suffered at the hands of Gissler and his soldiers had left him bloodied and sore, but he had known worse. His main concern was the sword wound to his shoulder. Although the bleeding had stopped, there was no way for him to clean the wound. Being an ex-Hospitaller, that thought disturbed him as he glanced around the filthy cage he and the boy shared.