“Excuse me, I didn’t mean to-” Simon started to apologize when a young man punched him in the face.
“You fresh little pansy, who do you think you are, pushing my fiancee?” the broad-shouldered young fellow growled. He tried to grab the medicus by the collar, but Simon wriggled away, finding a narrow path through the crowd. He was horrified to see that his distance from his father-in-law had grown. By now, Kuisl had reached the edge of the square and was about to flee through the little gate down into the Kien Valley.
“Kuisl! Wait!”
Breathlessly Simon rushed past a group of pilgrims from Landshut, bumping into their praying leader and sending him sprawling and shouting to the ground with their banner. The richly embroidered flag, which weighed at least thirty pounds, fell on two old women, covering them like a huge bed sheet. Out of the corner of his eye, the medicus could see the two women wailing and struggling to get free from the heavy banner.
Finally Simon reached the wall separating the church square from the forest. Looking back, he was relieved to see that the two Semers were also having trouble making their way through the dense crowd. He was about to heave a big sigh of relief when he spied two of the Andechs hunters coming toward him. The bailiffs had decided not to try to make their way through the crowd in the square but to run around the edge, where there were fewer people. Now the men ran toward Simon, grinning. One already had his crossbow in hand, and the other lowered his spear menacingly.
“In the name of the monastery, stop at once,” the guard with the crossbow ordered.
Simon paid him no heed but turned and ran toward the gate through which Kuisl had just disappeared. There was a soft whirring sound, then a bolt slammed into one of the trees directly above him.
And all this because, once more, my stubborn father-in-law won’t listen to me, he thought grimly. Now we’re probably both being sought as false monks. The Weilheim executioner won’t have to complain about a lack of work.
Simon slipped through the open gate and turned right onto the path along the monastery wall. Soon he saw St. Elizabeth’s Chapel in front of him and a path leading down a steep slope into the forested Kien Valley on the left. Turning around, he was horrified to see the hunters had followed him, joined by four others, and were approaching in long strides.
The path continued along the edge of the gorge; to his right were fields and farmland. Where should he go? If he ran out into the open country, the hunters would shoot him down like an animal, but the way into the forest was blocked by the gorge. If he continued running along this path, the bailiffs would likely catch up with him soon. Unlike the slender Schongau medicus, they looked strong and athletic; laughing and shouting, they seemed to enjoy the hunt.
“Look how he runs,” shouted one, alarmingly close by. “Like a rabbit, a frightened little rabbit. Hey, stop, you coward! We’ll catch you anyway!”
The path now took a turn, and for a brief moment, Simon was out of their line of sight. As he desperately looked around for a place to hide, a hand shot out from behind a rock at the edge of the gorge and grabbed him by the collar. Waving his arms around helplessly, he was dragged behind a huge boulder.
“Damn, just what the-” was all he could say before hairy fingers grabbed him by the throat, silencing him.
“Shut your mouth and stop flailing around. You dance around more than a billy goat.”
Simon relaxed when he recognized the voice of his father-in-law. Crouching behind the rock, they were dangerously close to the gorge: only a few fingers’ breadths stood between them and the steep gorge falling a hundred feet down to the river. Kuisl continued to hold Simon tight in his grip, but looking down at the steep slope at his feet, Simon raised no objection.
“Didn’t I tell you to stay away from the presentation of the hosts?” Simon gasped as he tried to get a firmer footing on the narrow ledge. “Now we’re both wanted, and I really don’t know how I’m going to get out of this mmmmmm.”
The hangman held his hand in front of Simon’s mouth as the steady pounding of the bailiffs’ footsteps approached along the path. Simon could hear their breathing, and for a moment, he felt like an animal at bay. But then they passed, and soon Simon and Kuisl could hear only the twittering of the birds.
Kuisl had closed his eyes. Now he turned silently to Simon.
“There were only two of them,” he whispered. “No doubt the other two are looking for us behind the other boulders along the path. They’ll be here soon. We have no choice but to head down into the gorge.”
“Down?” Simon looked at him in horror, pointing at the cliff that fell off steeply into the gorge. “Do you mean down there?”
“Of course, you idiot. Where else? It isn’t as bad as it looks. There are little trees you can hold onto all the way down.”
Simon couldn’t help thinking of the window ledge outside the count’s office where he’d been standing the day before. Now he would have to tempt fate again. He was a good swimmer, and narrow subterranean passageways were no problem for him, but he’d always had a great fear of heights. And this one was particularly high.
“This… this is at least sixty feet up,” he objected, looking down suspiciously into the dark gorge, whose bottom was only vaguely visible among firs and beeches.
“Come now,” the hangman said under his breath. “Shall I tell Magdalena you met your end as a yellow-bellied coward on the gallows?”
“All right then… very well.”
Simon turned to face the cliff and slowly slipped into the gorge. Once he’d found a foothold in a crack in the rock, he reached out for a small fir growing on the slope, then took a step toward a ledge farther off.
“If you keep going like that, you won’t reach the bottom until St. Martin’s Day,” Kuisl said, watching him from up above. “Hurry up. After all, I have to come down behind you.”
“I’d be glad to let you go first, my dear father-in-law,” Simon hissed.
“So you’ll fall down on top of me? Thanks very much, but I’d prefer to stand guard for the time being up here.”
Simon took a deep breath, then started climbing down the cliff again. He was beginning to get the knack of it-in fact it wasn’t as hard as he’d feared at first. There were plenty of ledges, bushes, and trees to hang onto.
When he got about halfway down the cliff, he took a break, wiped the sweat from his brow, and looked up, where he could just make out Kuisl as a dark little figure between the rocks.
Still gasping, Simon reached for another little fir when suddenly he heard a loud ominous crack.
The tree above him gave way.
Another crunching sound followed; then Simon slipped. The earth below him gave way as pebbles and small rocks fell noisily down into the gorge. Up above, he saw the angry face of his father-in-law.
“Watch out, you idiot,” Kuisl hissed before realizing how desperate Simon’s situation was. The medicus only had the small fir to hold onto, and bit by bit, the roots were pulling out of the cliff. The bottom was still fifty feet below.
“Wait, I’ll-” Kuisl began.
But at that moment, the rest of the root ripped out and Simon fell downward, screaming and thrashing wildly.
The landing was less painful than he feared. The forest floor was covered with old leaves, and a gentle slope at the bottom ensured the landing wasn’t too abrupt. He turned head over heels a few times, rolling like a little human avalanche into valley and finally coming to rest next to a large beech.
Carefully Simon checked his arms and legs. Nothing seemed broken, though his jacket was ripped in several places and there were some scrapes and bruises on his face and back.
Just as he was about to call back that everything was all right, he heard cries at the top of the cliff. Squinting, he could see vague movements far up on the ledge where Kuisl had been standing. More shouting followed, along with what sounded like clanking weapons. Evidently there was fighting up there.