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more than a buffoon, a stupid hop-toad jumping about my feet day by cursed day! A clutter follows your every step … clutter and disorder wherever you go. I’ll have no more of it… least of all at my death.” The angry woman trembled as she stole another breath. “Now leave m’room and … and take that daughter of the Devil with you.”
    Marta swung her hand at the children. “Begone from me. If I must die, leave me die in peace, away from you both…. Oh, would that you had been the children I raised you to be.” The woman groaned and her voice filled with self-pity. “There once were times when I thought, ‘Perhaps … perhaps yet there is hope.’ But I’ve always known otherwise … always deep in my soul…. Now, let me leave this miserable life the way I have lived it … alone.” Marta closed her yellowed eyes and began to sob. “My life is nothing … nothing as it should have been.”
    Karl and Maria stared at their mother, stunned and shattered. They backed out of the bedchamber, side-by-side, and huddled before the hearth. “I wish Wil were here,” whispered Karl. The boy tucked his knees up tight to his chest and buried his tear-stained face in his folded arms.
    “Perhaps we should fetch the priest?” Maria offered with some reservation.
    Karl paused for a moment, equally reluctant. “Well, he did say anytime we needed him we should fetch him.”
    Maria nodded. “Mother hates him so, and Wil, too.”
    Karl nodded. “But how could fetching a priest ever be a bad thing?” He turned toward the door slowly. Maria, sensing his sudden uncertainty, squeezed Karl’s hand and kissed his cheek.
    “I… I’ll hurry back, Maria.” Looking sadly at his little sister, he forced a feeble smile and vanished in the darkness.

     
    Wil stepped away from the broad trunk of the beech, preparing for his final flight home. He adjusted his leggings, retied the rope-belt which girded his woolen tunic, pushed his hood back to his shoulders, and ran his long fingers through his yellow hair. He took a deep breath and began.
    The quick-footed lad rapidly passed by Oberbrechen, as the sky brightened before him. Nearly home, he laughed as he recalled the exciting moment of Ansel’s collision with the earth. He imagined him lying there with grass and mud stuffed between his teeth, no doubt growling furiously as he fumbled his way upright. But the lad’s memory quickly offered the ember-lit face of poor Lukas and at once the reality of his evening’s affair gripped him. Sobered by sadness and mindful of risk, he set his thoughts to flight and listened only to his callused feet pounding on the damp earth and the jangle of his leather bag.
    Suddenly, his ears filled with the thunder of hooves behind him and he dove to the side of the road. After rolling into a ditch of high weeds he drew his hood tightly over his head and lay flat as three horses bearing bailiff’s soldiers bolted past. Wil released the air he was holding and returned warily to the roadway.

     
    Karl hurried southwestward toward the home of Father Pious at the eastern reaches of Oberbrechen. Behind him broke the first golden edge of a new sun; a fresh, light breeze tousled his red curls. Cock and songbird announced the advent of a new day as a cool mist gathered close to the dew-laden fields. The boy, now content in his decision, pressed the roadway with conviction.
    Suddenly a group of galloping horsemen rounded a bend and bore hard upon the surprised lad. Startled, Karl lunged to the side of the road to avert certain trampling. The horsemen, equally surprised in the faint light of prime, stood in their saddles to rein their mounts.
    “You there, boy,” one stone-faced soldier barked. “Stand as you are or die.”
    Karl stood, trembling as two others dismounted and charged toward him.
    A sergeant took a firm hold of poor Karl’s tunic and hoisted the speechless boy off his feet. “What mischief be y’bout? Speak. Who has passed you by?”
    The