Page 100 of Heart of Snow
I stepped into the cottage. The creak of the boards beneath my shoes was as out of place as laughter in a chapel. Everyone was somber, sitting on their beds and picking at their fingers or standing listless by the hearth. Only Wilhelm stood to greet me with a firm handshake.
“We’re all glad to see ya, Friedrich,” he spoke softly. “It lifts our spirits in these troubled times.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “Troubled?”
“Bad news here and abroad. Mostly here.” He nodded toward Ernst’s bed, and I turned to see the old man, blue-skinned and straining for every breath. I held back my groan. How had I not known it before? He had the miner’s consumption, and no amount of thyme brew would ever help.
I pulled a wooden stool up beside his bed, resting my hand on his heaving shoulder.
“Shouldn’t . . . be here,” he puffed.
“I want to be. Can I get you anything?”
He shook his head and took another wheezing breath. “Waldeck. Dying.”
I tilted my head. “What do you mean?”
He was panting, trying to get the breath to speak, but I couldn’t wait. I turned back to the room. “Ernst says something of Waldeck and dying? Do any of you know what he means?”
“That’s the bad news abroad,” Wilhelm answered.
“Ya haven’t been to the castle yet?” asked Heinrich. “I thought ya’d have more to tell us.”
“I stopped here first. Tell you about what?” My tone was clipped.
“Countess von Waldeck,” Emil piped up from his bed.
“The daughter, not the count’s bride.” Daniel stepped in front of Emil. “The one people call a ‘rare beauty.’”
My blood went cold. I was afraid I already knew the answer, but I had to ask. “What about her?”
“She’s dyin’.” Daniel said the words without emotion. “We heard the count is pacin’ the castle, wishin’ he could be off to sayin’ his goodbyes, but the kaiser’s banned him from comin’.”
“Say his goodbyes?” My voice grew louder with each word. “She was perfectly fine when I left not five days ago!”
“Did ya know her well?” Wilhelm lifted a sympathetic hand to my shoulder, but I stepped back out of his reach. It couldn’t be true. Margaretha was coming home to Wildungen. There had to be a mistake.
A cold hand gripped my wrist, and I turned to see Ernst with bloodshot, entreating eyes. “Go to her,” he wheezed.
I was already aching to do just that, but I had to be reasonable. I couldn’t just rush off to Brussels, could I? I was no healer, and getting caught by Carrera was a not a risk I took lightly.
But staying in Wildungen waiting to hear news wouldn’t do any good either. The only reason I’d come back was for Margaretha. If she died, all my future hopes would be buried with her. I couldn’t stay. It would be more torture than I could stand to live through. My home was with Margaretha or nowhere.
I squeezed Ernst’s hand. “You’re right, Ernst. You’ve always been right. God be with you, and farewell.”
After saying a hasty goodbye to the rest of the miners, I gave Ernst a final smile, moving out the door before I remembered the two hares still under my cloak. I rushed back inside, my hands a hurried tangle as I untied the hares from their cords. Leaving them on the table, I bid the miners goodbye again and almost ran out of the cabin.
It was a five-day walk back to Brussels or a two-hour run up to Wildungen, where the count’s stables were ripe with fresh horses.
The sky was already getting dark, only heightening the pressure to make a quick decision.
To Wildungen then, to do a bit of thieving.
I said a quick prayer, asking God to spare Ernst any pain in his passing, asking Him to give me speed in my travels, and begging Him to please, please let Margaretha live.
Chapter 48
Margaretha
