Page 23 of The Noble Servant

She took a cloth out of her bag and dabbed at his face. “Who did this to you?”

He only shook his head.

“Come.” She touched his arm. “I have to put these geese in their pen. As soon as I do, I want you to show me who hurt you.”

“Do you need help?” Steffan asked.

“I might. Will you return after you put away your sheep?”

“I shall.” He herded the animals to the barn—they could walk quickly when they were forced to—and ran back to where he had left the goose girl and the large young man.

She stood talking softly to him, dabbing at the blood on his temple and cheek.

“What happened?”

She turned to look at Steffan. “I don’t know. Lenhart, show us who did this to you.”

But the boy only shook his head, then pointed to the girl and shook his head again.

“Why does he not speak?”

“Lenhart does not speak with his voice.” Then she looked into the boy’s eyes. “Did Erlich do this to you?”

He hung his head.

“He did, didn’t he? It’s time to confront him.”

Lenhart shook his head with vehemence, but the goose girl had already started off across the bailey. The boy went after her, and Steffan ran after both of them.

They headed toward the stables, and when they reached them, a man was dumping out a water trough and adding more water from a bucket.

“Where is Erlich?”

The man put down the bucket and stood to his full height.

“Run along, maiden. Everyone has a place here, and this is not yours.”

Steffan stepped forward, but she was already speaking again, her voice icy. “Do you not know that this boy’s angel is always in heaven beholding the very face of God? Erlich may be bold enough to mistreat him, but you and the other men should defend him if you have any fear of the Almighty.”

“I asked him a question and he didn’t answer me.” A note of complaint entered the man’s voice.

“He cannot speak.” She looked at him as if he must be daft.

“If he can hear me, why can he not speak?”

“He cannot speak because his throat was injured. Nothing is wrong with his ears. And even if he could speak but did not answer you, that is no reason to stand by and do nothing when someone else strikes him and bloodies his face. God will not look favorably upon people who strike those who—” The goose girl took a step back as a man Steffan did not recognize emerged from the stable.

This man, who looked to be around forty years old and had long hair and squinty eyes, glared at her as he approached. She took another step back, then stopped.

“You are not to hit Lenhart again”—she looked him in the eye—“or he and I will speak to Lord Hazen about you.”

“You will not, because you will be dead.” The man lunged at her, grabbing her around the neck. He was strangling her.

Steffan ran forward as Lenhart leapt at the man, as did the other stable worker. The three of them reached him at about the same time and pulled him off of her.

Steffan clenched his fists. “How dare you attack this young maiden?”

But the man curled his lip and pointed at her while she held her hands at her throat and coughed.