Eifelheim - Michael Flynn [164]
“He is dying.”
“And so, deserving a comfort.”
Dietrich fell silent. When a few moments had gone by, he said, “You loved your master.”
“Bwa-wa! How could I not? It is written in the atoms of my flesh. Nevertheless, one more bite of knowing to feed his mind would please him.” He stiffened abruptly into immobility. “Gottfried-Lorenz calls. There is trouble.”
GOTTFRIED WORE a floral crown and had shed his leather hose to leap among the revelers. Few remarked the custom any longer, as he had no shameful organs to display. At least, none that women would recognize as such. Somehow, in the whirling, he had swiped Sepp Bauer across the crown with his serrated arm, and the young man lay now prostrate amid the flickering torches. Some in the crowd made ugly growls in their throats. Others gathered by the moment, asking questions.
“The monster attacked my son!” Volkmar declared. He swept his arm around his neighbors. “We all saw.” A few nodded and muttered. Others shook their heads. A few cried that it was chance. Ulrike, swollen with child, shrieked to see her husband lying so. “You beast!” she cried at Gottfried. “You beast!”
Dietrich saw anger, confusion, fright, recognized the signs. He noticed from the corner of his eye, a handful of other Krenken gathering in the outer darkness, and one, who held the rank of sergeant among them and was known therefore as Hopping Max, had unfastened the flap on the scrip that held his pot de fer. “Gregor,” Dietrich called to the mason. “Fetch Max from the castle. Tell him we have a matter for the Herr’s justice.”
“The Markgraf ‘s, you mean!” Volkmar shouted. “Murder is for the high justice.”
“No. See! Your son breathes. It wants only the scalp sewn back in place and a little rest.”
“Not by you,” Volkmar replied. “Your tenderheartedness to these demons is a scandal.”
What might have happened then remained unknown, for Max arrived with a half-dozen armsmen and imposed the Herr’s peace upon them; and Manfred, when he arrived much put out at the late hour, ruled the matter accidental and declared that a full trial of the facts would await the annual court at Michaelmas.
The crowd sullenly dispersed, some giving Volkmar a slap on the shoulder, others giving him a look of disgust. Gregor said to Dietrich, “Volkmar’s not a bad man, but his tongue can slither out of his food-hole before he knows it. And he says things with such certitude that he cannot after deny them without seeming foolish.”
“Gregor, at times I think you are the cleverest man in Oberhochwald.”
The mason crossed himself. “God forbid, that is no great feat.”
WHEN THE revelers had dispersed and Dietrich was alone with Hans and Gottfried, Hans said, “The Herr is a clever man. In three months, sits the court, and long before, all questions are moot.”
Gottfried touched Dietrich on the shoulder, startling him. “Father, I have sinned,” the Krenkl said. “It was no accident. Sepp taunted me, and I struck without thinking.”
Dietrich regarded his convert. “Guilt may be altered by circumstances,” he allowed. “If your instinctus overcame you—”
“Striking him was not my sin.”
“What, then?”
“Afterward … I was happy.”
“Ah. That is serious. How did he provoke you?”
“He called himself happy that we would soon be gone.”
Dietrich cocked his head. “Because you starve? He hoped for your death?”
“No, he meant our ship. I did not think. He might have meant a ‘fare well.’ He could not have known of our failure.”
Dietrich stopped and grabbed Gottfried by the arm, which caused the Krenk to freeze and check an instinctive blow. “Failure?” Dietrich demanded. “What means this?”
“The wire will not serve,” he said. “There is a measure … You know how a rope will snap if too much weight pulls on it? Our electronik mill snaps also, though in a different way. With each proofing, it grows less strong. We cast the sums and …”
Gottfried fell silent and Hans touched him several times about the torso. “But the doctrine of chances, brother,” he told