Escape from the Past by Annette Oppenlander

something…I forget. Last Saturday, somebody kidnapped her. Lord Werner went to rescue her after he heard she’d been taken.”
    Luanda nodded. “I know who she is.” Her voice grew stern and gravelly. “You shouldn’t concern yourself. The beadle has her and he won’t give her up.”
    “Who’s the beadle?”
    “Duke von Schwarzburg, the tax collector.”
    “Why?”
    “He’s evil and powerful. He takes what he covets and destroyswho stands in his way.” She sounded like an oracle again.
    “Where does he live?”
    “Stay away from him.”
    I opened my mouth and closed it again. Here I thought she’d help me. Instead I’d been thrown another roadblock. I remembered the men who’d sliced off the man’s finger. According to Bero they belonged to Schwarzburg. This ridiculous game was digging me into a deeper hole by the minute. I thought of telling the woman about Juliana. Instead I jumped up and hurried to the door. No use wasting any more time.
    “Thanks for the bread,” I said yanking open the door.
    “See me again.”
    What for, I thought. No point asking about Juliana. The woman was full of doom and warnings and not the least bit helpful. Except for the food—I swished my tongue where a pleasant aftertaste lingered. I’d go back for that.

Chapter 10
    That night I couldn’t sleep. Somehow, I had to find Lady Clara. She was Juliana’s only chance for a safe place, to find protection from the rat. If it meant I had to visit this beadle character, so be it. Luanda had refused to tell me where the Duke lived. She obviously thought he was dangerous. Surely someone in the village knew. If I wasn’t successful, Juliana would have to return to Miranda. I had no doubt they’d take her by force or have her arrested if she didn’t show. I thought of witch-hunts and women burned at the stake. Who knew what Miranda would do? I shivered and pulled the crude blanket closer to my throat. I was freezing. Bero’s family had to stretch the firewood through the winter. The coals in the fire pit had long fallen apart before I dozed off.
    After a piece of bread and three spoonfuls of gruel, courtesy of the mother’s fine cooking, I took off down the trail. I hadn’t told Bero or Juliana my plans. No need to get them all riled up. Bero would protest as would Juliana.
    I headed for the
Klausenhof.
With all the people coming and going, the barkeep had to know Schwarzburg’s address. The courtyard was empty, but the front door was unlocked. Behind the bar to my right, a man in an apron washed and wiped stone mugs. The room was no bigger than my living room at home. A couple of men in bright blue and green robes sat at a table, eating hunks of roasted meat and bread. I inhaled. I was hungry again.
    “Excuse me, sir,” I said, stepping closer.
    “What can I serve you?” The man said without interrupting his work.
    “I’m hoping you can help me. I have a question.”
    For a split second the barkeep looked up from his task as if to evaluate how important the inquirer was.
    “That’ll cost you.”
    I shook my head. “I don’t have any money, eh, coin.”
    “This establishment collects for refreshment
and
answers. We don’t serve beggars. Get out.” Behind my back the richly dressed merchants laughed.
    “It’s a simple question,” I tried. “It’ll only take a minute.”
    The barkeep slammed his mug on the counter. “I said, get out,” he growled.
    I turned and sauntered away, my head low. I wanted to smack the guy in the stomach which bulged underneath the filthy apron. I’d never felt this disappointed. I longingly thought of the present day owners of the Klausenhof who were not only friendly but positively cool. They’d let me look at the armor and swords when I was little and wanted to be a knight.
    Drizzle hit me as I entered the courtyard. My legs slowed and soon I stood, unsure where to turn or what to do. My purpose had evaporated. I was ready to give up this game, this impossible endeavor. Yet