The shouts grew louder as Aladdin and Sir Sigmund drew closer to a group of travelers who looked to have been bedded down a few hundred feet away—yet he had been completely unaware of them.
“We’re taking everything, and if you try to stop us, we’re not above killing you,” a rough voice said.
Sir Sigmund crouched behind a large bush, and Aladdin knelt beside him, still clutching his sword. Aladdin could barely make out the outlines of two men facing each other. The younger one held a knife pointed at the older man’s throat.
“You’re a fiend,” the older man said. “What did you do to my men?”
Two or three other men were scrambling through some bundles on the ground, occasionally lifting something to get a better look.
“They will be all right in a few hours. Unless we gave them too much poison.”
“Monster. Help me! Someone, help! Robbers! Thieves!”
“You may as well be quiet.” Then the thief actually laughed. “No one can hear you.”
Several men lay on the ground, moaning and writhing in the dark.
Aladdin glanced at Sir Sigmund. “We have to save him,” Aladdin whispered.
Sir Sigmund scowled. Finally he whispered, “I’ll dispatch the three closest ones, and you go for the one with the old man.”
Three on one? Even Sir Sigmund might not be equal to that task. But in the next moment Sir Sigmund leapt out from behind the bush and charged straight toward the men, uttering a battle cry and brandishing his sword. He slashed his blade at the first man, who screamed, stumbled over a bundle, and fell backward on the ground. The second man shrieked and cowered on his knees, his eyes big and round. The third man turned and ran.
Aladdin raised his sword at the man holding the knife at the old man’s throat. “Get back! Drop your knife!”
The man with the knife turned his weapon on Aladdin. “You get back. I have men all over this forest. They will attack you from behind and kill you. At any moment now. So go.” When Aladdin made no move to retreat, the man ground out through clenched teeth, “This is not your affair.” Aladdin noticed he wore ragged woolens, while his hostage wore the colorful clothing of a wealthy man.
Aladdin held out his sword. “If you have taken anything from this man, you must return it to him now.”
The man lunged at Aladdin with his long knife and aimed at his heart.
Aladdin jumped back as he brought down his sword. The steel struck the man’s hand, and he let out a yelp and dropped his knife.
The would-be thief stumbled backward, then turned and fled.
Aladdin ran after him. Then he dropped his sword and leapt onto the man’s back, tackling the miscreant to the ground. Aladdin kept the thief pinned with a knee in the middle of his back.
Aladdin glanced over his shoulder at Sir Sigmund. The knight was grinning as he cinched one of the men’s hands together with some rope. He quickly moved to the second man and tied his wrists together. Then he threw some rope to Aladdin.
“I’m going to catch the weasel who ran away.” Sir Sigmund hurried off into the dark woods.
Aladdin tied his captive’s wrists, then wrapped his bleeding hand with a cloth from the ground nearby.
The older man with the colorful clothing stood beside Aladdin’s elbow. “Sir, you saved us. How can I thank you?”
“I’m glad we were able to help.” Aladdin finished up with the outlaw.
“I am Cedric Kaufmann of Lüneburg, and I am forever grateful. You saved my goods and very likely my life. Please.” The man was white haired and shorter than Aladdin, and he clasped his hands in front of his chest as though pleading. “Tell me your names so I know to whom I am indebted.”
The sun was starting to rise, spreading a yellow light over the small clearing where so many men lay around them—some moaning and holding their stomachs, while the evildoers were bound and motionless.
“My name is Aladdin of Hagenheim, and that man-at-arms who captured the other two men is Sir Sigmund, a noble knight in Duke Wilhelm’s service.”
“And you, sir? Are you a knight?”
“I was employed by Duke Wilhelm, but not as a knight.”
“You are a good and brave man to come to my aid. I was a stranger to you and your knight, and I wish to repay your kindness.”
“That is not necessary, Herr Kaufmann.”
“Nonsense! Of course I must repay you.”
Moans continued to emanate from the men on the ground.
“Isn’t there anything we can do to help these men? They were poisoned, did you say?”
“With something in their wine, I’m afraid.” Herr Kaufmann shook his head. “I am not a wine drinker myself, but this fiend gave my guards tainted wine last night. I do not know any remedy, but perhaps you know of something that will help them?”
“Since I do not know what he poisoned them with, it is difficult to say. They are holding their stomachs and moaning . . . Do you have any ginger root, licorice, or fennel?” Aladdin had read some of Frau Lena’s books on the healing arts while he had lain in bed recovering from the bear attack.
“I have all three!” The man hurried to one of the large packs. “My ships have been to Spain to trade salt, resin, and timber for spices and other goods. I have been to Bruges to claim them. These packs you see here are a fortune in themselves, if I can manage to get them back safely to Lüneburg. I am a merchant there.”
He sorted through the bundles on the ground and finally brought out a bag the size of a man’s head and held it up. “Here is fennel! How shall we give it to them?”
“I will boil some water. We’ll steep the herbs in hot water and let them drink it.”
“There is a pot of water if you can build up the fire.”
The two of them set to work. Aladdin put some sticks on the fire that was nearly burned out and then added some bigger ones to feed the flames. He suspended the blackened pot over the fire so the flames were licking its sides, and soon they had boiling water.
The older man soon found dried mint, ginger, and licorice to add to the fennel.
“Put the herbs into five cups,” Aladdin instructed.
Herr Kaufmann did so, and Aladdin ladled hot water into each cup. Then they took the tea around to each of Herr Kaufmann’s men.
“Ho! I caught him!” Sir Sigmund’s voice boomed as he entered the clearing holding the small thief by the neck with one hand and his sword in the other. The knight proceeded to tie him up.
“You won’t kill us?” the young man asked. “Please spare my life. I am my mother’s only son, and she will die without me to provide for her.”
Aladdin was still helping the poisoned men to sit up and drink the tea. One was so sick he wasn’t able to lift his head, and Aladdin had to dribble the tea through his parted lips.
“We should make them drink poison,” one man said from where he lay propped on his elbow. “And leave them here to die a slow death, the way they would have let us die.”
“We do have to decide what to do with them,” Sir Sigmund said to Aladdin and Herr Kaufmann. “As much as I’d like to just leave them here to rot”—he sighed—“I’ll have to take them back to Hagenheim and let Duke Wilhelm deal with them.”
“You cannot handle the four of them alone.” Herr Kaufmann looked up from his task of helping one of his men sit up. “When my men have recovered, one or two can accompany you to take these evil brigands to Hagenheim.”
Sir Sigmund grunted, kicked a small tree, and scowled at his prisoners, who were now grouped in a circle on the ground, seated with their backs to the center. No doubt the knight did not want to go back to Hagenheim so soon. Would Aladdin have to return to Hagenheim as well? His heart was still sore from leaving Kirstyn. He wasn’t sure he could leave her again.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Aladdin, Sir Sigmund, and Herr Kaufmann tended the poisoned men the rest of the day. Once the men were able to fall asleep for a few hours, most of them awakened feeling almost back to normal. By evening,
they were all able to eat and drink a small amount without getting sick.
That night, when everyone else was lying down to sleep, Herr Kaufmann, Sir Sigmund, and Aladdin gathered around the fire.
The wealthy merchant’s small gray eyes were sad as his bushy white brows settled low. “My son was supposed to transport these goods in a convoy with some other merchants from the Hanseatic League, but when he took some of the most valuable items and deserted the group, they departed without him. I traveled to the coast to try to find him, but he did not wish to be found, no doubt. I did retrieve most of my wares, and my guards and I were on our way home when we were attacked. But the true outlaw, I’m afraid, is my son. He stole from me, and he stole from several other merchants in the convoy.”
Herr Kaufmann stared up at the stars. “My son—Cedric, named after me—has stolen or gambled away every pfennig he’s ever had, has drunk himself nearly to death more than once, and keeps company with the filthiest rabble a man could find. He has broken my heart many—” His breath hitched and he blinked rapidly before continuing. “Many times. But I always believed him when he said he was repentant and would not defy me again. My wife died in giving him birth, and though I adopted my brother’s daughter and she is a great comfort to me, it is my son, Cedric, who gives me gray hair and dims my eyes with tears.”
He cleared his throat and set his jaw. “But no more. I shall disown him and forget I ever had a son.”
A ghost of a smile graced his lips as his gaze fastened on Aladdin. “I see a strong spirit in you. You were Duke Wilhelm’s steward—”
“Assistant to his steward.”
“At such a young age! So you must be very clever and knowledgeable of mathematics and many other matters. And you and your knight attacked those ruthless men, so I know you are brave. You risked your life for me, a stranger, so I know you are a man of integrity and compassion. Therefore, I have a proposition.” Herr Kaufmann leaned closer to Aladdin.
Herr Kaufmann was an interesting-looking man, with his black felt hat set with multicolored feathers and an emerald, ruby, and sapphire brooch on the front; his long black sleeveless houppelande that hung to the ground; and the enormous red silk sleeves of the garment he wore underneath it. Even his shoes were covered in bright silks. He did not try to hide his wealth.
“While Sir Sigmund takes care of the prisoners,” Herr Kaufmann said, “will you accompany me and my men on our way to Lüneburg? You are as competent as any of my guards.”
When Aladdin did not answer right away, Herr Kaufmann said, “I should very much like you to work with me and help with my business affairs in Lüneburg. Would you become one of my assistant stewards helping keep track of my accounts? Though I just met you, I believe you are as trustworthy as anyone I know.”
Aladdin tried to speak, but his words stuck in his throat. He swallowed and said, “Thank you for your generous offer, but it seems wrong to leave the unpleasant task to Sir Sigmund. I’d like to talk it over with him.”
“Of course, of course. I shall go check on Otto. He was still a bit unsteady on his feet.” Herr Kaufmann moved away to find his guard.
Aladdin looked into Sir Sigmund’s craggy face, made fiercer by the harsh firelight. “Will you be all right taking the thieves to Hagenheim with only two of Herr Kaufmann’s men?”
“Of course. I could do it alone if I had to.”
“Will you count it amiss if I accompany Herr Kaufmann to Lüneburg?”
“You’d be a fool not to. This man’s as wealthy as King Midas.” Sir Sigmund shook his head and even smiled as he stared at Aladdin. “But you are the one who has the golden touch.”
“What do you mean?”
“Everything you do turns to gold, as if God’s favor follows you wherever you go. You come to Hagenheim as a poor orphan boy from the Holy Land, and suddenly you are the talk of everyone at the orphanage. You are the stable master’s favorite, and you even gain the favor of the duke, who puts you to work in the castle as his steward in training. You’re the favorite playmate of the duke’s own daughter, and when you leave to make your fortune, the first man you meet is so impressed with you that he wants to hire you.” Sir Sigmund laughed, a low, throaty sound.
“Shh.” Aladdin glanced around to see if Herr Kaufmann might have heard what Sigmund had said, but he was talking with one of his guards, hopefully too far away.
“Nothing like that has happened,” Aladdin whispered. “I’m still a poor man with no name or consequence.” But he did hope a position with Herr Kaufmann might be the beginning of learning how to be a successful merchant and earning his own fortune.
Kirstyn was standing at her bedchamber window when Sir Sigmund rode through the castle gate with several other men, some of whom were bound with ropes. She strained her eyes to see, but Aladdin was not among them.
Her heart leapt into her throat.
She ran from her room, racing down the corridor and taking the stone steps two at a time. She sprinted out the door of the castle into the bailey and across the stable yard.
“What has happened? Where is Aladdin?” She held her side as she tried to catch her breath, her gaze fastened on Sir Sigmund’s face.
He was barking orders to the stable workers, then to her father’s soldiers, who rushed forward to deliver his captives to the dungeon. Finally he turned to Kirstyn. “I left Aladdin on the road.”
“What? Why? What do you mean?”
Sir Sigmund did not answer her right away. He continued unhitching his saddlebags.
She wanted to grab him and shake him, but since he was twice her size, she decided against it. “Was Aladdin well? Where is he now?”
He hefted his saddlebag to his shoulder. “The plan was for Aladdin to accompany a man named Cedric Kaufmann of Lüneburg.”
“To Lüneburg? Why?”
He had already started walking toward the soldiers’ wooden barracks behind the castle. Kirstyn had to almost run to keep up with him.
“Herr Kaufmann was attacked by those four men I brought back with me, and Aladdin and I came to his aid.”
“Do you mean Aladdin fought them?”
“It was a quick fight. Aladdin did well.”
“He wasn’t hurt?”
Sir Sigmund grunted and shook his head. “Herr Kaufmann was impressed with Aladdin and took him home with him. I imagine he will put him to work.”
“What kind of work?”
They had almost reached the barracks, so Sir Sigmund stopped and looked down at her. His expression softened a bit. “Herr Kaufmann is a merchant. He took an immediate liking to Aladdin, and I have no doubt he will prove himself valuable. Do not worry about the boy. He is exactly where he wants to be.”
“Oh.” Kirstyn had been standing on her toes and sank back on her heels.
The knight turned to go into the barracks.
“I thank you, Sir Sigmund.”
He nodded to her, then disappeared inside the dark doorway.
Aladdin was in Lüneburg. Of course he was clever and trustworthy. All would be well. He would make his fortune and then . . . Her heart squeezed at the thought that he might not come back, might marry some wealthy burgher’s daughter and forget about her.
Aladdin was her best friend. That must be why it hurt so much to think of him marrying someone else. She was only sixteen, and marriage for her seemed like something far in the future.
But what if he never came back? Perhaps he would need to travel to exotic lands to secure goods. Perhaps he would encounter dangers. If something terrible happened, how would she ever find out? Herr Kaufmann would not know she was here in Hagenheim waiting to hear from Aladdin.
These were unhelpful thoughts. She should have known God would make a way for Aladdin. Had not the Lord God always taken care of him? Bringing him all the way from the land of the Saracens to Hagenheim? Making the two of them friends and giving Aladdin favor with everyone he encountered? It was Aladdin’s willingness to be helpful, his kind spirit, and his desire to alw
ays do what was right that had endeared him to another powerful person.
It was good news, so why did her heart feel so heavy?
Five days later Aladdin entered Lüneburg, and he was struck with the contrasts between this city and Hagenheim’s relatively small, provincial atmosphere. Where Hagenheim was warm and friendly, Lüneburg was gruff and full of strangers. Where Hagenheim was unhurried and peaceful, Lüneburg was bustling and chaotic, with vendors shouting, people jostling each other in the narrow streets.
Herr Kaufmann and Aladdin were surrounded by his guards. As they walked their horses through the press of people, he noticed the elaborately decorated doors and doorways. Hagenheim had many ornately carved half-timber buildings, but Lüneburg seemed to have an obsession with doors. Brightly colored, strangely shaped, some of them were a fantastical blue with elaborate iron scrollwork and a rounded arch above. Another was less ornate but characterized by a pointed arch with alternating colors of brick, drawing one’s gaze to its uniform striping. Another door, belonging to an apothecary shop, was flanked by stone statues carved in relief, depicting women, mermaids, angels, and lions, and painted bright orange, blue, and yellow.
“My home is not far now,” Herr Kaufmann said.
They made their way down a narrow, curving street, and when they emerged into a wider street, the tall, slate-gray spire of a church rose high above them, piercing the twilight sky.
“That is the Church of St. John.” Herr Kaufmann quickened his step.
Along the way they encountered the sights and smells Aladdin had always associated with Hagenheim—bakeries and the aroma of hot, fresh bread, butcher shops and the scent of fresh meat, fishmongers, blacksmiths, tanneries, and breweries, each with their own distinct odors and sounds. But the unfamiliar lay of the streets, curving in strange places, the new buildings and faces, constantly reminded him that he was no longer in Hagenheim.
His stomach grumbled as they passed yet another bakery, attesting to the fact that it had been several hours since they had eaten. But Herr Kaufmann paid no heed to any of the food shops as he and his men pressed on.