The Hangman's Daughter

“Exactly, girl,” Hans said. He had stooped down to her and was whispering in her ear. His breath smelled of brandy and tobacco smoke. Magdalena noticed he was dead drunk. “It’s your lucky day today. We’re going to do that bloodsucker Braunschweiger in today. Then he won’t be able to slice you up. And then we get away with the treasure. But first we’re going to have it off with you properly. That’ll be better than when your spindly physician slobbers over you…”

He pushed his hand under her skirts.

At the same moment Magdalena had finished loosening the final cords of the rope. Without any further thought, she flung her right knee upward, slamming it into the soldier’s groin. With a muffled cry of pain he collapsed.

“You wicked hangman’s wench…”

She ripped the gag and blindfold off her face. Dawn was breaking. It was still rather dark, but through the mists she could distinguish the soldier’s outline as a gray lump on the ground in front of her. Magdalena rubbed her eyes. She had been blindfolded for such a long time that her eyes only gradually grew accustomed to the faint light. She looked in all directions like a hunted animal.

Above her rose the gallows hill. She saw the mortal remains of Georg Brandner swaying in the wind. About twenty paces from her she could see a small fire glimmering in the woods and a man getting to his feet and running toward her. The soldier was somewhat unsteady on his feet but approaching her at an alarming speed.

“Wait, Hans! I’ll get the bitch!”

She was just going to run when she felt a blow to the back of her head. The man on the ground beside her must have gotten to his feet and hit her with a branch or the like. Pain darted like arrows through her head. For an instant she thought she’d go blind, then her sight came back, she stumbled forward, slipped, and felt herself roll down the hill. Twigs and brambles tugged at her hair, she tasted dirt and grass, then she scrambled to her feet again and stumbled into the undergrowth. Behind her she could hear shouting and fast steps approaching.

As she ran toward the mist-covered fields under the cover of the low shrubs, she felt memories of the previous day returning.

She could see everything quite clearly now.

In spite of her pain and fear she had to laugh. She was running for her life, the two soldiers in close pursuit. She was giggling and crying at the same time. The solution was so simple. It was a pity that she might not be able to share it with anyone.

The smoke grew denser and Simon had to cough repeatedly. Clouds of smoke were wafting into the corridor, enveloping Sophie, who was helping him lug one rock after the other from the entryway. They had wrapped wet rags around their mouths and noses, but those didn’t help much. Simon’s eyes were burning. Time and again he had to stop and mop his face. That cost him valuable time. Again and again he looked over at Clara, who was rolling about in feverish cramps in the alcove. For the sick girl the smoke must have been hell.

The hangman had disappeared a while ago. All they could hear now was their own panting and coughing. The hole, which had been no bigger than a fist, had grown considerably. Simon looked at it with increasing impatience. Sophie, who was twelve and rather slight, might be able to push herself through, but it wasn’t big enough for him yet. As the physician moved a particularly big rock to the side, the opening they’d made with such effort collapsed, and they had to start again. At long last the gap was big enough for him to maneuver Clara through. A breeze of fresh air came in from the far side. Simon filled his lungs with it, then he hurried over to the chamber to pick up Clara.

The girl was as light as a bunch of dry sticks. Still, he found it difficult to push her through the gap.

“I’ll go ahead and see if the corridor leads out,” he said to Sophie breathlessly, when he realized he wouldn’t get far like that. “Once I’m through I’ll pull Clara after me, and you push from behind. We have to lift her up a little, so she isn’t dragged along the rocky ground. Do you understand?”

Sophie nodded. Her eyes were sooty slits between her soiled hair and the rag that covered her mouth. Once more Simon admired how calm she was. But maybe it was a result of the trauma she had been through. This girl had seen too many dreadful things in the past few days.

The hole they had made was big enough for Simon to fit his shoulders through. At one time, the corridor must have collapsed here. The physician prayed that it wouldn’t give in once more. He gritted his teeth. But what were his alternatives? Behind him were fire, smoke, and a raving mad soldier. Compared to that, a collapsed passageway seemed almost trivial.