The Orphan's Wish

  Your faithful servant forever,

  Aladdin

  How could he write such a short, cool, emotionless letter? And how long had he been in Hagenheim without telling her?

  Kirstyn read the letter again, then a third time. The fact that he was near but could stay away from her . . . Hot tears fell and splashed on the open letter.

  She wadded it up and threw it on her bed. How dare he treat her this way?

  Her door opened and Mother walked toward her. “Your father told me you received a letter from Aladdin.” She came close to Kirstyn and placed her hand on her shoulder. “Is it bad news?”

  “He is in Hagenheim and hasn’t come to see me. He told me where his new shop is, that I can send for him, but . . . why didn’t he come here himself?” How could he stay away? Didn’t he understand how much she loved him and wanted to see him?

  “But that is good, isn’t it? He’s here, as you wanted.”

  “I love him, Mother. I think I’ve always loved him. But if he loved me the way I thought he did . . .” She stopped and shook her head, unable to go on. She flicked away the tears that fell onto her cheeks.

  “Perhaps you should go and talk to him. I’ll come with you if you wish. Father won’t let us leave the castle without a guard to escort us, but I could make the guards wait outside.”

  “If he can bear to stay away from me, then I can stay away from him.”

  Mother took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I understand how you feel, but it would be good to try to understand Aladdin’s feelings. To go to him and talk.”

  Kirstyn shook her head again. “Perhaps I will later, but for now I’m too angry.”

  “And hurt, I would imagine.” Mother put an arm around her. “Love can call forth a multitude of emotions, especially when things are not going smoothly. Perhaps Aladdin is staying away because he knows he needs to be able to give you things, not the least of which is a house, before he can marry you.”

  “It just hurts so much that he didn’t come to see me.” Kirstyn buried her face in her mother’s shoulder.

  “I know.” Mother patted Kirstyn’s back.

  Kirstyn’s chest hurt, a physical pain much like the one she experienced when she was held captive by Michael and he would force her to lie covered by a tarp or blanket, still and quiet, when people were around. She’d thought that pain was gone forever when she had escaped. But she was wrong. Only now she was feeling it when she thought about Aladdin. How could that be right?

  Kirstyn sat at supper in the Great Hall with the rest of the family. Her brothers Steffan and Wolfgang were being loud and arguing about who was the better swordsman. One of Father’s knights approached and spoke close to Father’s ear. Adela was almost in tears while talking to Mother about losing her favorite gold ring.

  I was kidnapped and treated violently only a few weeks ago. She looked around at her family. But her family members were all oblivious.

  A loud crash sounded behind her. Kirstyn screamed and covered her head with her arms. Her heart pounded in her throat and her hands shook. Was Michael coming after her? Had the town council released him?

  “Kirstyn?”

  “Don’t let him get me!”

  All was quiet, but her whole body was on high alert. When she got the courage to move her arms and open her eyes, her father and mother were beside her, staring down at her.

  “What is it?” Mother’s eyes were big, her mouth open. “What is wrong?”

  Kirstyn’s hands shook even more as she realized Michael wasn’t there. “Wh-what was that loud noise?”

  “It was only one of the servants dropping a pitcher of water.”

  The servants had stopped what they were doing to stare at her. Even Steffan and Wolfgang were motionless and quiet, their gazes fastened on her.

  She made an effort to straighten her shoulders. “I’m all right.”

  Mother put her arms around her, and Father patted her shoulder and stood very close.

  I will not cry. I will not cry. Kirstyn put her hand over her mouth to stifle the sob that bubbled up. Only a few tears leaked out, and she brushed those away while Mother’s body and arms shielded her from view.

  “You’re safe now, my precious liebling,” Mother mumbled.

  “I’m going to Lüneburg soon,” Father said, “to bring Michael here to be hanged. You will never have to be afraid of him again.”

  Was it evil that the thought of Michael being hanged was actually comforting? She knew as a Christian she was required to forgive him, and she would . . . someday . . . but she also never wanted to worry about seeing him again.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  The next day Kirstyn retrieved a book from the library. She hoped she might see her father working at his desk, but he wasn’t there.

  She was on her way up to her bedchamber when someone hurried up behind her. She spun around. Wolfgang smiled at her.

  “Kirstyn! I know something that will make you happy. Aladdin is back in Hagenheim.”

  She tried not to glare at her brother. “Why would that make me happy?”

  Wolfgang’s mouth fell open. “Because he’s your friend.”

  “He was my friend. Now . . . I don’t know what he is. Just a shopkeeper, I suppose.”

  “That’s unkind. Didn’t Aladdin help rescue you from Michael?” Wolfgang’s brown eyes looked confused.

  “I escaped. Aladdin was only there when Herr Kaufmann’s men came and arrested Michael and Anna.” She knew she was being unjust and peevish, but anger felt almost good, powerful, and much better than the pain it was blocking.

  Kirstyn turned away from her brother and started up the steps to the next floor, holding her book to her chest with her right hand.

  “Do you mean you’re not even going to go see him?”

  “No, I’m not.” Honestly, she thought she might, as soon as she stopped feeling so . . . angry.

  “Even after he saved you from the bear when you were children?”

  Kirstyn’s step faltered, then she continued climbing the stairs.

  “Kirstyn!”

  Something caught her left wrist and held on.

  Kirstyn screamed and spun around on the steps, dropping her book.

  Wolfgang let go of her wrist as if it were a burning cinder. “You didn’t have to scream. I wasn’t going to . . .” He stared at her wrist, and his face went white. “Kirstyn, I’m sorry.”

  Her heart was thumping hard and her hands shook, just like last night after the loud crash. Her brother must think she had gone completely mad. She did her best to breathe, but memories of Michael’s face kept leaping before her—the cruel blackness of his eyes, the twist of his lips when he was shouting at her. She could feel the rope around her wrist, chafing and pulling.

  Every time Michael pulled on the rope . . . Kirstyn heard herself sobbing before she felt the tears.

  Wolfgang was kneeling beside her on the steps. “I’ll go get Mother.”

  “No, I’m all right.” Kirstyn pressed a shaking hand over her mouth. “I know you must think me crazed. Sick in my mind.” She tried to laugh but couldn’t quite manage it.

  “No, I don’t.”

  She stared at her wrist. No rope. She was home. She was well, and her brother was sitting beside her on the step.

  Kirstyn took a deep breath. She was all right. She took another deep breath. The tears were drying, and her hands were not shaking as much. Wolfgang held out his hand. She took it and let him pull her to her feet.

  “Let me help.” He went down a few steps to retrieve her book, which had taken quite a tumble, then hurried back up. “I’m sorry for grabbing your wrist, Kirstyn. I’m so sorry.”

  She couldn’t remember him ever apologizing to her before, but his brown eyes were wide and attentive to her.

  “It’s all right. I shouldn’t have screamed.” She shook her head at her foolishness.

  “Father explained that you are reacting similarly to some men after they’ve been in severa
l battles, because of that evil man kidnapping you. It’s hard to separate what’s real from the memories, he said. I’m sorry I reminded you . . . of what happened.”

  They walked slowly up the steps, with Wolfgang close at her elbow but not touching her.

  “It’s not your fault. I am well.”

  “And you don’t have to go see Aladdin if you don’t want to. In fact, if he mistreated you in any way, I’ll go and beat him up for you.”

  “No, he hasn’t mistreated me. Not really. I just . . . I feel hurt he hasn’t come to see me.”

  “I shall go and tell him. I’ll make him come and see you.”

  “No, no, please don’t do that, Wolfie.” She sighed. “Truly, he hasn’t done anything wrong. He . . . Well, it’s a long story. I probably shouldn’t even be angry with him. The truth is, I do want to go visit him.”

  She missed him so much it made her chest ache again.

  “I’ll go with you if you’d like.”

  “I’m not ready just yet.” She didn’t want him to see her crying and falling apart at every loud noise and unexpected touch.

  Wolfgang nodded and handed her the book as they reached her door.

  “Thank you, Wolfgang.”

  One corner of his mouth quirked up in a crooked smile. “You’re my schwester.”

  “You’re so much kinder now that you’re thirteen.”

  “I’m fourteen.”

  “Oh. I guess I missed your last birthday.” Tears stung her eyes again, but she blinked them away.

  “I’m glad you’re home.”

  “Thank you. It’s good to be home.” She wanted to hug him, but she wasn’t sure his new gentleness would extend that far.

  “And I’ll go with you to see Aladdin anytime you wish. Just tell me.”

  “But perhaps the kindness is because Steffan is not around.” She raised her brows at him.

  He looked sheepish. “We were very childish and mean-spirited sometimes. I’m sorry we teased you and Margaretha too much.”

  “I forgive you.”

  Kirstyn hugged him before he could protest, then went into her bedchamber.

  Herr Goteken delivered the ledgers as promised. Within a few days Aladdin had mostly figured out the mistakes and gaps in Herr Goteken’s record keeping. The problem he still had not deciphered was that the ledger listing the inventory in the warehouse did not reconcile with what was actually there. He might have expected there to be fewer goods than what was listed, but there were actually more goods in the warehouse—almost twice as many. He had thought it merely an error in the arithmetic, but it was beginning to appear that much of the inventory showed no known origin.

  That evening he went to his sleeping quarters. The two-story building was behind Herr Goteken’s home and was where his household servants slept. Aladdin’s tiny bed stood against the wall, the farthest from the fireplace. The fire had burned out the night before, long before dawn, because Herr Goteken had not given them enough wood to keep it burning.

  Aladdin checked the woodpile beside the hearth. It was even colder tonight, but they had less wood than the night before.

  Friedrich, one of Herr Goteken’s servants, was staring balefully at the small pile of wood. Aladdin’s chest squeezed in pity.

  “I’m going to ask for more wood.” Aladdin walked toward the door.

  Friedrich’s eyes were wide. “Herr Goteken doesn’t like us coming back to the big house after we’ve gone for the night. It’s forbidden.”

  “Not for me.” Aladdin went out the door, closing it quickly to let in less cold air, and tramped across the snowy ground to the back door of an added-on guardhouse, storage room, and entryway to the back of the house. He knocked.

  Tomas, the tall servant whose job it was to protect the house at night, opened the door and growled, “What do you want?” Then, more mildly, “Is that you, Aladdin?”

  “Tomas, the other servants and I would like more wood so our fire doesn’t burn out.”

  Tomas motioned him inside while holding up a lamp. He closed the door against the cold. “Master says I’ve been giving you too much wood. He rations it out himself now. Perhaps if you asked him . . .”

  “Where is he? I’ll ask him now.”

  “Oh no, he mustn’t be disturbed this late at night.”

  “Very well. I will take more wood now and will ask him tomorrow.”

  Tomas scratched his head. “That would not please the master. He may throw you out.”

  “I shall pay him for the extra wood, then.” Aladdin went to the stack in the corner of the room and started gathering wood into his arms. “If he throws me out, it will be for the best. The Holy Writ says, ‘And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.’” Although there had been times in the last year when he questioned whether he truly understood that portion of Scripture.

  Aladdin hefted the wood and carried it to the door. He looked at Tomas, who reluctantly opened the door and closed it behind him.

  Aladdin carried the wood into the servants’ quarters and dropped it next to the fireplace. Then he proceeded to add some to the fire.

  The servants around him cheered. Aladdin carried some wood up the stairs to where some of the female servants slept. They were all smiles too. “How did you ever manage to get Herr Goteken to give you so much wood?”

  Aladdin just shrugged. As he hurried back down the stairs, he called, “Gute Nacht, ladies.”

  “Won’t Herr Goteken be angry with you?” Friedrich asked.

  Aladdin began removing his clothing to get ready for bed. “I shall find out tomorrow.”

  Aladdin entered the kitchen anteroom where he and the servants ate their meals. Cook looked up and saw him. “Aladdin! You mustn’t eat with the servants. Master wishes you to go to the big house and eat with him and his wife and children.” Her eyes were round as she wiped her hands on her apron.

  “Did he give a reason?”

  “No, sir.” She glanced at the servant boy standing in the corner and shooed him with her hand. He took off running and darted out the door.

  “Well, I shall take my usual breakfast that you always wrap up for me.” Every morning Cook gave him a fruit pasty or a fresh roll along with a wedge of cheese and an apple and he would take his bundle with him and eat it when he arrived at the shop.

  Cook’s mouth opened as she stared at him, then she turned and started gathering his breakfast.

  The door banged open and Herr Goteken stepped in.

  Cook spun around and her hands fluttered at the sight of him.

  “Aladdin!” Herr Goteken said, far louder than necessary, ignoring Cook and the rest of the kitchen servants. “Come to the big house. I have something to say to you.”

  He had no choice but to go with his landlord.

  Herr Goteken strode quickly across the small space between the house and the kitchen. Tomas watched them walk by. Other servants stopped their work to watch them as well. When they had entered the house, Herr Goteken turned to Aladdin in the corridor where everyone on the ground floor would hear what he said.

  “Aladdin, you did something last night that is forbidden—you took more wood for the servants’ fire. Everyone in my household knows it is forbidden.” His brows were lowered as he stared down at him, his face a mere foot from Aladdin’s in the dimly lit corridor. “Did you know that?”

  “Yes, Herr Goteken. I was told as much.” A sense of wariness and dread filled him, and he wondered absently where else he might find a shop to rent and a place to sleep. He had thought about going to Hamburg. He still had that recommendation letter Duke Wilhelm had written. Perhaps Hamburg’s grand burghers, who ruled the town, would hire him as a financial clerk. But he didn’t want to be that far from Kirstyn.

  Silence hovered as they stared each other in the eye. Suddenly Herr Goteken smiled and leaned away from him. “That’s what I like about you, Aladdin. Courage!” He laughed so loud the sound vi
brated inside Aladdin’s ears.

  Herr Goteken clapped him on the shoulder. “From now on you are to eat with me in my dining hall.” He kept his hand on Aladdin’s shoulder and led him into a large room. “Have I introduced you to my family? This is my wife, Berta, and my children, Heinrich and Schroder and little Sofia.”

  Aladdin nodded to them each in turn. They sat down as Herr Goteken sat at the head of the table and motioned for him to sit across from Frau Goteken.

  Aladdin pretended not to be uncomfortable and talked with Herr Goteken, who dominated the conversation, and Aladdin occasionally spoke a few words to Frau Goteken and the children, who seemed rather fascinated by him.

  “Aladdin once worked for the Duke of Hagenheim,” Herr Goteken told his children.

  “Did he live in the castle?”

  “Why do you ask me? Ask him yourself.”

  “Did you?” The little boy turned his eyes on Aladdin.

  “I worked in the castle and slept with the other servants in the servants’ quarters outside the castle, much as I do here.”

  “Aladdin made Herr Kaufmann of Lüneburg a very wealthy man,” Herr Goteken said. “I’m hoping he shall do the same for me.”

  “Herr Kaufmann was already a very wealthy man when I went to work for him,” Aladdin protested, “partially due to his being a Sülfmeister.”

  “Oh yes! A master salter.” Goteken narrowed his eyes at Aladdin. “I don’t suppose you can help me get a lease on a few salt pans.”

  “I’m afraid I have no control or authori—”

  “No matter. That was not your expertise, was it? No, you know efficiency and strategy, heh? I suppose you had Herr Kaufmann buying expensive silks and spices from the Orient and the Holy Land. Is that the secret of your success? Did you travel to the Holy Land to trade with your own people there?” Herr Goteken had that half-amused look that meant ridicule.

  “I never traveled to the Holy Land. And the secret to success is giving people what they need, and then what they want, according to what they can afford.”