Eifelheim - Michael Flynn [61]
And so it went while the sun climbed high. Heinrich Altenbach was fined four pfennigs in chevage for living off the manor without the lord’s grace. Petronella Lürm had gleaned the Herr’s fields “contrary to the prohibitions of autumn.” Fulk Albrecht’s son had stolen Trade’s grain during the harvest. The jurors questioned the witnesses closely and, knowing the parties concerned, recommended the fines.
Oliver Becker had raised the hue-and-cry against Bertram Unterbaum on May Day past, in malice over the affections of Anna Kohlmann. Reinhardt Bent had appropriated three furrows from all the strips abutting his headland. For this offense, the man was widely hooted, for there was to the manse peasant no greater crime than stealing a furrow from a neighbor.
Manfred himself brought suit against twelve gärtners who during the July hay harvest had refused to load the hay cocks into the carts. Nickel Langermann claimed that the labor had been done in prior years “out of love for the Herr,” but was not actually required by the weistümer. He asked that the free tenants inquire into the matter and Everard appointed an inquest from among the jurors.
At this, the court recessed for a board of bread and ale at the Herr’s expense.
“Langermann fancies himself a schultheiss,” said Lorenz as the crowd broke up. “He’s always finding bylaws that say he doesn’t have to work.”
“Enough such findings,” Dietrich said, “and no one will hire him, since then he won’t work at all.”
Max Schweitzer appeared and led him a little distance from the others. “The Herr bade me inquire about the black-powder,” he murmured.
“Their alchemist recognized charcoal from the specimens,” Dietrich told him, “and sulfur by its properties and appearance; but the Heinzelmännchen knew not what Krenkish word signified niter, so we are at an impasse. I told him it was commonly found under dung piles, but their shit differs from ours.”
“Perhaps it smells sweeter,” Max suggested. “And if we give him a specimen? Of niter, I mean. Alchemists can identify unknown materials, nay?”
“Ja, but the Krenken seem disinclined to make the effort.”
Max cocked his head. “I wouldn’t think their inclinations mattered.”
“They have angst to repair their ship and return to their own country.” Dietrich looked off to where Manfred stood with his retinue. The men were laughing over some matter and Kunigund, her gown wrapped in a white girdle embroidered in orfrois with scenes of stag hunting and hares, was torn between a ladylike dignity in Eugen’s company and the desire to chase her younger sister, who had just tugged Kunigund’s cap loose. Manfred thought to hold the Krenken against their will so he could learn their occult secrets. “The Herr would be wise not to press the matter,” he said.
“On his own land? Why not?”
“Because the strong arm should be gently used on folk you suspect of having black-powder.”
IN THE afternoon, the villagers elected beer-tasters, jurors, wardens, and other ministers for the coming harvest-year. White Jürgen declined the honor—and potential expense—of another term as vogt, so Volkmar Bauer was elected in his stead. Klaus was chosen again as maier.
Seppl Bauer shyly cast his first vote, raising his hand for Klaus along with the other householders. Or with almost all, for Trude Metzger loudly dissented and, as she was householder for her manse, cast a lone vote for Gregor. “The mason may be a dimwit,” she declared, “but he is not a thief who damps the meal.”
Gregor, turning to Dietrich, said, “She sweet-talks me to win my affections.”
Lorenz on the other side wagged his finger. “Remember, Gregor, should you ever seek to remarry, that she has already paid merchet on herself, so she would be a cheap catch.”
“And worth every pfennig.”
“The body is but a mantle,” said Theresia Gresch, breaking a silence she had held throughout the day, “which shines if true beauty lies within. So she seems plainer than she is.”
“Perhaps