The Hangman's Daughter

A scream brought Simon back to the present. He rolled quickly to one side, gasping for air. The bearded man lay near him, rubbing his thigh. Blood was spreading over his hose. Simon had wounded him in the leg, but it was obvious the injury was not severe. The man was looking at him already and grinning. He drew himself up, ready to attack again. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a stone lying on the ground and bent over to pick it up. For one moment his face was turned away, and in this moment Simon threw himself on him with the knife. The man cried out in astonishment. He had expected the weedy-looking youth to just run away, and this sudden attack surprised him. Now Simon sat astride his opponent’s broad chest, holding his knife in his raised right hand, poised to attack. Beneath him the man’s eyes filled with terror. When he opened his mouth to scream again, Simon knew that he had to strike immediately. He could not risk the man being heard by the others. He felt the hilt in his hand, the hard wood, the sweat on his fingers. He felt the man writhing under him, looking certain death in the eyes.

Simon noticed his arm becoming as heavy as lead. He…could not strike. He had never killed. That was a threshold he couldn’t cross.

“Ambush!” screamed the man under him. “Here I am, here behind the pile of logs…”

The oak cudgel whizzed right past Simon and struck the man in the middle of the forehead. The second blow crushed the skull and blood and white matter oozed out. The face changed to a bloody mush. A strong hand pulled Simon off the body.

“Damn! Why didn’t you finish him off before he began to scream? Now they know where we are.”

The hangman threw the bloodstained branch to one side and dragged Simon behind the woodpile. The physician could not answer. The face of the dead man had burned itself into his memory like a picture.

Soon afterward they heard voices coming closer.

“André, was that you? What’s happened?”

“We must get away from here,” whispered the hangman. “There are still four of them, and they’re likely to be experienced soldiers. They understand about fighting.” He grabbed the half-unconscious Simon and dragged him to the edge of the wood. Then they let themselves drop into a bush and watched what happened next.

It only took the men a short time to find the body. There were loud cries, someone screamed. Then they swarmed in all directions. Watching the torches, Simon could see that they always stayed in pairs. They went along the edge of the wood and poked their torches into dark places. Once they passed within a few steps of their bush. But it was too dark and they could not see anything. Finally they gathered together again by the corpse. As Simon was getting ready to breathe again, he saw that one of the points of light was approaching their hiding place. It was one man alone. From his gait he could see that the man had a limp.

At the edge of the forest, not far from their bush, he halted and raised his nose in the air. It looked as if he was sniffing. His voice reached them clearly.

“I know that was you, hangman,” hissed the limping man. “And I know that you are somewhere out there. Believe me, I’ll have my revenge. I’ll cut off your nose, ears, and lips. The tortures you have inflicted on others are nothing to those you yourself will suffer. You’ll beg me to smash your skull in, just as you have done to André.”

The man turned abruptly around and was swallowed by darkness.

Not until some time had passed did Simon dare to breathe freely.

“Who…who was that?” he asked.

The hangman stood up and brushed the leaves from his coat. “That was the devil. And he’s got away from us. All because you crapped your pants!”

Automatically, Simon turned away from him. He felt that he was not only afraid of the devil but also of the man next to him.

“I…I can’t kill,” he whispered. “I’m a physician. I’ve learned to heal people, not to kill them.”

The hangman smiled sadly.

“There you are. But we are supposed to be able to do it. And when we do it, then you are horrified. Stupid lot, you’re all the same.”

He stomped off into the forest. Suddenly Simon was alone.

Magdalena knocked frantically at the little manhole down by the Lech Gate. The opening was just high and wide enough for one person to fit through it. In this way the watchmen didn’t need to open the whole gate for latecomers, thus risking an attack.

“It’s the middle of the night! Come back tomorrow; the gate opens when the bell strikes six,” growled a voice from the other side.

“Alois, it’s me! Magdalena Kuisl. Open, it’s important!”

“What’s next? First I let you in, then out again, and now you want to come in again. Forget about it, Magdalena, nobody comes into the town before the morning.”

“Alois, down at the building site on the Hohenfurch Road there is more destruction in progress. Strangers are there! My father and Simon are watching them, but they can’t hold out long! We need the bailiffs!”