Chapter 30: How Joerg Isebrand Is Given a Pleasant Duty

"The prisoner, Steward!" the soldier announced, pushing a skinny man into the room.

Joerg looked up from the chronicle he was reading. He saw a man, aged before his time, looking about with a resigned look on his face.

"You stabbed your master, the Lord Hugo of Rugenberg?"

"I did," came the answer.

"What was your reason?"

"For weeks, he took my only child, my daughter. That, I would have born. But he was brutal with her, hurting her on purpose, tearing into her, with her only twelve years old. This morning, he ordered me to bring her again, for his pleasure. I went for her, my heart breaking, and she told me that was still bleeding from her arse where he had violated her. I could not take it anymore, so I stabbed the swine."

"How is your daughter now?"

The shackled man shook his head in dismay.

"The bleeding does not stop."

"Where is she?" Katherine asked sharply. She had been listening silently.

"In her chamber, your Grace, under the roof."

"What is her name?" Katherine asked next.

"Liese, your Grace."

With a face like a storm cloud, Katherine rushed from the room. Outside, she could be heard issuing sharp commands before her voice moved away. Joerg faced the prisoner again.

"You have viciously attacked and killed your lord and master, laying hand to a noble personage. In spite of the reasons you gave, I must punish you most severely."

The man just shrugged. He expected nothing else.

"Here is my judgement: you will forego the noon-meal today!"

Ludger stared at the new Steward.

"Lord, it is evening already."

"Well, did you get a noon-meal?"

Perplexed, Ludger shook his head.

"See, my punishment is unerring. Have your dead master's bedchamber cleared of his body and cleaned. Throw out the linen. Throw out and burn his clothes. All of them. Let nothing remain of this vile and evil man."

"What about his body, Lord?"

"Have him buried outside these walls, in the church yard of the next village. An unmarked grave!"

"I shall see to it, Lord. I thank you."

Joerg nodded.

"What does your daughter normally do in the castle?"

"She started to help with the beds and the laundry, Lord."

"My wife shall need a maidservant, to wait on her. When your daughter has healed, have her trained for this task."

"Yes, Lord, thank you again. I shall tend to the cleaning now."

"Do that," Joerg nodded.

What a mess this castle was! Joerg cursed himself for not killing Rugenberg two years ago. Then, he reconsidered. He would have never found Hildburg, without Rugenberg's betrayal. It was a difficult question to ponder whether his newly found love was worth the suffering of that poor girl.

On impulse, he stood up and found the staircase. With long strides, he walked upstairs until he reached the narrow corridor under the roof. It was easy to find Liese's room, for the door stood open, and Katherine's voice could be heard.

"How is the girl?" he asked, stepping in.

The big eyes in the skinny face of the girl regarded him with fear. She was lying on a narrow cot, her back propped up slightly.

"She is very brave. I had to put two stitches in her ... you know, to close the wounds. That ... that devil just stuck his fat prick into her, tearing her up. He is so lucky that he is dead! I'd have a mind to skewer him on a stake for what he did to her."

It was rare for reasonable Katherine to fall into a rage like that. Jorg put a calming hand on her shoulder.

"He will face a higher judge than us, and a horned gaoler will punish him in eternity."

Joerg looked at the girl again.

"Liese, I am the new Steward of Epstein, acting for the Lord Arnulf of Erlenburg. I spoke your father. He is busy, cleaning out Rugenberg's bedchamber. He will come to you once he is finished. When you have recovered, you will be trained as maidservant. You will serve my wife, and no harm will ever befall you again.

"For now, you must rest. Katherine, she better not eat anything but soup, for a few days."

Katherine nodded. Solid food, grain and vegetables, would cause bowel movements; not a good idea for the injured girl.

"You'll have your hands full, getting this place in shape, Brother."

"I'll say," Joerg agreed. "I have studied the chronicle. They burnt a woman, last year, a witch they claimed."

Katherine flinched.

"That priest?"

"No, mostly Rugenberg himself, I think. The priest just did what Rugenberg told him, but I'll watch him anyhow. I hope that Arnulf will find a good preacher for us."

It was three days later, and Joerg had just completed the inspection of the dungeon. He cursed himself for not thinking of that earlier. The gaoler had left, with the soldiers, and nobody had thought of feeding the prisoners. They were in horrible shape, almost crazy with thirst.

Two of the prisoners were Lutheran preachers who refused to vow allegiance to the Pope. Rugenberg had them tortured for weeks before he left them to rot in his dungeon. A freeholder was also among the prisoners, with his entire family. The man had refused to give up his land, and Rugenberg had tried the man's steadfastness by violating his son and daughters. There had been no end to that man's vileness, it seemed.

A woman, a midwife, had been held, too. Her neighbour had accused her of witchcraft, but she withstood the torture, claiming her innocence. With no confession coming from the woman, Rugenberg had lost interest in her. She was left imprisoned nonetheless.

Joerg knew that how he handled these people would largely determine how he was seen by Arnulf's new subjects. It was a pity that he could not discuss this with Katherine, for she had left Epstein with August and his men.

At least, food was coming in freely, now. Also, his own servants from Bellenberg had arrived, the evening before, and he had men and women who knew what he wanted. He had asked for a feldscher and a bader to tend the sick and injured when he sent his report to Arnulf.

With a sigh, he stood again. Until those healers arrived, he had to take care of those poor people himself. A room next to the vast kitchen had been cleared for them, on Joerg's orders, and this was where he directed his steps.

They certainly looked vastly different, in the bright room, and freshly washed. Seeing the alleged 'witch', though, Joerg recoiled in horror. Her hands and feet were mangled so badly, they had to be entirely useless for the poor woman. What he saw of her skin showed burn marks, as did her bald head: they had burnt her hair in the torture chamber. This was something Joerg could not tolerate. He knew cruelty, he knew brutality on the battle field. Torture, however, was something else. It was cowardly, and it embodied what he hated most in his fellow men: the lust to inflict pain and humiliation. It was a neiding's way.

The woman looked up at him with a mixture of hope and fear.

"What is your name?" he asked her gently.

"Magda, Lord."

"Magda, I cannot make undone what happened to you, but this I swear: there will always be food for you at my table. Do you have kin?"

The woman nodded miserably.

"The Black Death took most of them, but I have a sister and a niece. They are poor, though."

"Then you shall live here. Now rest and eat. I have asked Lord Arnulf to send us his bader, to look after you."

The freeholder and his family were sitting together, in a corner. He was a tall and powerful man, but now he sat, slumped against the wall, holding his sobbing daughters, while his wife held the son in her arms. They looked up, startled, when his shadow fell over them. Joerg could see the horror of what had happened to them in their eyes.

"I shall have your land restored to you," Joerg said. "I shall ask the Lord Arnulf to give you a few extra tagwerk, to compensate you for your suffering. You'll get your animals back, too."

"I thank you, Steward. There is nothing anyone can do for my daughters, though. That ... that..."

"Neiding," Joerg filled in.

"I don't know that word."

"Abominable scoundrel, then," Joerg conceded.

"That man defiled them and hurt them. They can never marry. He even ... even my son!"

"He did that and more," Joerg answered darkly. "I had him at sword's point, two years ago. That I did not kill him then will haunt me for my remaining days."

"Begging your pardon, Lord, rumour has it you tilled the soil as a youth?"

"That I did, and my father was a hardworking freeholder like yourself. Rest here for a few days, before you return to your farm, and let me know of your needs. When your daughters have healed, in body and soul, come here again. We shall yet see if generous dowries will not lure suitors to your dwelling."

The older of the girls, perhaps fifteen years of age, looked up, with anger in her eyes.

"I have no use for men anymore, Lord. The Baron was the worst, but all the others were ready enough, too, to soil us. It is how men are."

Joerg knelt before the girl.

"What is you name, lass?"

"Irmgard, Lord."

"Irmgard, do you think your father would do such things?"

Irmgard shook her head vehemently.

"See, not all men are like that. Do you want to miss the chance of meeting a good man, like your father, of having a family of your own? Take your time to heal, Irmgard. If you, in a year, insist you don't want a man in your life, come back here. We'll find you work under my wife, then."

"May God bless you, Steward," the freeholder said with feeling.

"May he hold his protecting hand over you and your family henceforth," Joerg replied solemnly, standing again.

The two preachers were in a bad shape, too, having suffered repeated torture. Yet, when Joerg approached them, they rose to stand on their weakened legs.

"May God bless you for your compassion, Noble Steward," the older man addressed him.

"I only act as my Lord, Arnulf of Erlenburg, expects it of me," Jorg answered.

"Is Erlenburg still Lutheran?"

"It is, worthy Preacher. You may spread the word freely in Lord Arnulf's lands."

"Hail the Lord Arnulf! Our sufferings are rewarded, Brother! We shall tend our parish again."

This was addressed to the younger man.

"I shall speak a prayer tonight, for the soul of that evil man. Surely, without prayer, his immortal soul will be lost forever."

Joerg regarded the young preacher.

"I commend the firmness of your faith. It is not for me to discuss the limits of God's mercy, but if justice is spoken on Judgement Day, Rugenberg will burn in purgatory for eternity.

"May I trouble you, though, to speak to the other poor victims and alleviate their burden? Perhaps without asking them to pray for Rugenberg's soul?"

The older preacher nodded.

"We shall thank God for our deliverance, and we shall comfort each other."

Just then, old Ludger stepped in.

"My Lord Steward, there are horsemen in approach from the east."

"Thank you, Ludger. I shall be back here. Now, I must haste. Methinks, my Lord Arnulf may be arriving."

Indeed, Arnulf rode at the head of the train of horsemen, Nele at his side. On Nele's other side, Joerg saw the familiar form of Hildburg, eyeing the walls and towers of Epstein with wonder.

As custom dictated, Joerg bent his knee before Arnulf.

"My Lord, the Castle of Epstein is thine," he announced.

"I thank thee, valiant Joerg, for your goodly services. Receive, from my hand, the stewardship over Epstein, and be known, henceforth, as Joerg Isebrand, Steward of Epstein and Bellenberg."

The two regions were neighbouring, and it made sense for Joerg to oversee them both. Bellenberg only boasted a small fortified manor house, making Epstein castle the obvious choice for Joerg to live.

"I herewith pledge my fealty to you, Lord Arnulf, with body and soul," Joerg declared.