Several days ago…
The initial interest in Yohana had dwindled down, although there were still occasional rowdy men who tried to pursue her, but Miksa skillfully intervened and put a stop to their advances.
As time went on, a sense of familiarity and ease developed between Yohana and the tavern's customers. They no longer posed a constant challenge to her, and she began responding to their inquiries with genuine sincerity.
Many of the patrons were intrigued by Yohana's background, but she deliberately kept her answers vague, allowing them to speculate and interpret as they pleased.
During this time, Yohana had observed that the group of ruffians, whom Miksa had warned her to stay away from, did not consist of a fixed number of members. Sometimes she would only spot two of them visiting the tavern, while other times it would be three or even four.
She found that three individuals were the optimal number, as it was sufficient to create chaos and confusion without raising too many suspicions.
Yohana initiated her plan by subtly implanting an idea in their minds while they were in a tipsy state. Pointing casually at Joern, she remarked, "Did he borrow money from you?"
Naturally, they would deny it since Joern had no connection to them. However, Yohana planted doubts in their memories, saying, "Is that so? I could have sworn I saw you handing coins to him a few days ago. Perhaps my recollection is failing me."
The following day, Yohana further nurtured the seeds she had sown. She approached different members of the group and said, "I noticed your friend lending some coins to that man."
When asked which friend she was referring to, Yohana simply provided generic characteristics, saying, "The one with unruly hair. I apologize, sir, my memory is a bit hazy, and I can't recall specific details."
Right before Joern's day off, Yohana added the final touch, asking, "Has he returned the money?"
"What money?" one of the ruffians questioned.
"Didn't the man borrow money from you, sir? I fear my mind may be playing tricks on me. Perhaps I have been overworking myself," Yohana replied, deliberately keeping things ambiguous to avoid any consequences if things were to turn sour later on.
The largest ruffian pounded his fist on the table, intoxicated and irritated. "Which blokehead are ye talkin' 'bout, lass?"
"Oh, I beg your pardon, sir. I meant no harm or trouble," Yohana pleaded.
He angrily tossed his empty glass onto the stone floor and stood up. "I said, which one of 'em?"
Yohana nervously bit her lower lip and gestured towards Joern, who was on the verge of leaving the tavern. However, she knew the fight couldn't happen tonight, so she intervened. "Sir, please calm yourself and take a seat."
Struggling to maintain his balance, Yohana assisted him in taking a seat. "Why not enjoy your drinks tonight and reclaim your money tomorrow? I've heard the fine gentleman will be meeting his wife near the church in the evening. You see, she works at Harnisse Castle."
As the group departed from the tavern, Yohana reiterated the specific time and location where they could confront Joern and demand their money back.
When the group left the tavern, Yohana reminded them once again of the time and place they could demand their own money from Joern.
***
"If there's nothing else you need from me, I shall take my leave now," Wibke informed her fellow maids in the servant quarters.
Being the only married one, Wibke returned home once a week, unlike the other servants who chose to stay at the castle, benefiting from free food and lodging.
"Have you checked everything?" inquired Mrs. Stringer, a kind, middle-aged lady who genuinely cared about the welfare of all the servants. Her hair was neatly tied up in a bun, with strands of gray seamlessly blending with her dark brown locks.
"Yes, Mrs. Stringer. I have double-checked my work, and everything is spotless," Wibke affirmed, her hands grasping a small suitcase.
"Very well, you may leave. See you on Monday," Mrs. Stringer replied.
Wibke bid farewell to the other servants and departed from the castle. She gazed up at the sky, feeling a surge of joy as she anticipated reuniting with her beloved husband whom she had missed dearly throughout the week.
Since Joern's workplace was closer to their residence, Wibke often had to walk several kilometers alone before meeting her husband, who would be waiting near the church.
"My dear wife!" Joern exclaimed as he caught sight of Wibke in the dimly lit street.
Wibke rushed into her husband's embrace. "Darling."
However, their joy was short-lived as a group of troublemakers approached them, making unreasonable demands. Wibke, who spent most of her time in the castle, knew without a doubt that she owed no money to anyone.
She glanced at her husband, who seemed equally perplexed and unaware of the situation.
"I have never borrowed anything from you," Joern asserted firmly.
Initially, Joern stood tall and courageous, defending his beloved wife. However, his bravery waned as a large man struck him with a powerful fist, causing him to cower immediately.
Wibke was not taken aback by this, as she had always been the bolder one in their relationship. She extended her arms protectively around her husband and shouted, "Do not dare lay a finger on him! There must be some misunderstanding here."
One of the group members seized Wibke, forcefully pulling her to the side, while another assailant viciously stabbed Joern with a small knife.
Wibke screamed, summoning her strength to shove the person restraining her, and dashed towards Joern, who lay on the ground, writhing in pain.
"Oh, my love, it must be excruciating. Curse you brutes! I don't understand your gibberish. We never owed anything to anybody, let alone to dirty drunkards like you."
Fortunately, a young woman and a soldier happened to be passing by, and they swiftly intervened, repelling the ruffians. Wibke and the young woman carefully lifted Joern's wounded body and hurriedly carried him to a nearby tavern.
Wibke trembled with fear, her heart weighed down by the sight of her husband's bleeding form. While she had encountered bloodshed before, having aided injured soldiers within the castle walls, witnessing her own beloved spouse in such a state proved to be an overwhelming ordeal.
Her mind went blank, and she struggled to think coherently. Joern's agonizing groans and cries echoed in her ears, sounding like the desperate pleas of a wounded child. Wibke felt a numbness envelop her, a combination of shock and anxiety overwhelming her senses.
Suddenly, the voice of the young woman cut through the haze. "Madam, um..."
Wibke swallowed hard, collecting herself, and introduced herself to the young woman. She focused intently on the instructions given and hurried to the kitchen to fetch a bowl of warm water as directed.
Returning with the bowl, Wibke watched as the young woman skillfully cleaned Joern's stab wound using the water she had brought. Time seemed to stretch as they attended to Joern's injury.
Moments later, the tavern's owner hurried downstairs, clutching a jar in her hand. "Yohana, here!" she exclaimed, addressing the young woman.
Yohana then applied a small amount of greenish ointment to the wound, carefully spreading it across the injured area. Once the ointment was applied, she proceeded to wrap the wound with a bandage, ensuring it was secure and would provide proper protection.
Only then could Wibke finally breathe freely, feeling the tension in her muscles loosening. Yohana approached her and asked, "Madam, are you hurt?"
Wibke shook her head and took a seat. "Thank you, young Miss. How could I ever repay you?"
"Madam, it is Claus, this kind soldier here, who deserves your gratitude."
Wibke gently took hold of Yohana's small hands. "But you saved my husband."
Yohana rubbed the back of Wibke's hand. "I am just glad that your husband survived. It was his strong will to endure the pain that helped him."
As Yohana released her hand, Wibke pulled it back slightly. She locked eyes with Yohana and sincerely said, "Thank you, Miss. I truly appreciate what you have done for us."
***
"Have you served in the war?" Claus inquired.
Yohana wore a solemn expression and offered Claus a bitter smile, considering it the most suitable response for the moment.
After they had safely overcome the crisis, Claus excused himself to return to the church. Yohana seized the opportunity to provide a thorough explanation regarding her knowledge of herbs.
"I appreciate your discretion," she started, aware that Claus would understand the context of her remark.
"I have no desire to intrude upon a lady's private affairs without permission. I could sense that the mere question troubled you," Claus responded respectfully.
Yohana intertwined her fingers and lowered her gaze. "In truth, I was born in a border region. As you may know, borders are often plagued by war. While I haven't been directly involved in it, I, unfortunately, witnessed its horrors firsthand, as my father served as a soldier."
Claus turned his body to face Yohana completely, indicating his attentive listening.
"I fervently prayed to the Saints to protect my father," Yohana continued, her voice carrying a hint of vulnerability. "Yet, when he returned home bearing injuries that no child should ever witness, I found myself questioning why the Saints didn't answer my prayers."
Claus's compassionate nature was evident to anyone observant enough. Exploiting his soft heart and diverting his suspicions through the use of personal trauma seemed like the most effective strategy.
By immersing him in her fabricated pain, Yohana hoped he would overlook any lingering doubts or suspicions.
"But my father, despite his wounds, held steadfast in his faith," Yohana continued, feigning a touch of sadness. "He would remind me that the Saints had already blessed him abundantly by allowing him to return home to me. He remained by my side until his last breath."
With a delicate swipe of her hand, Yohana simulated wiping away tears. "Oh, I do apologize, kind Sir. I fear I may have burdened you with my trivial tale."
Claus vigorously shook his head, lifting both hands in a somewhat clumsy gesture. "Not at all, young Miss. On the contrary, I am deeply grateful that you entrusted me with your story. My heart feels enriched now, knowing that your father was a true devotee, just as you are."
Yohana expressed her gratitude, maintaining her facade of vulnerability. "I appreciate your attentive ear, kind Sir. Please, do not let me detain you any longer from more pressing matters. May the Saints guide you and your path."
Both Yohana and Claus clasped their hands together in front of their chests, conveying mutual respect, and Claus took his leave from the tavern.