Page 87 of The Piper's Pursuit

Steffan glanced around. It was a small, rather isolated garden. “We can sit here.”

The priest motioned toward a bench and they both sat. “When was your last confession?”

“A few years ago. I’m afraid I have a lot to confess.”

“You may take as much time as you need. Unburdening oneself is very important.”

Where should he start? He decided to start at the beginning, and he told the priest about the little boy, Heinlin, who had died because of him. Somehow it was a bit easier to tell the priest, whom he did not know, than it had been to tell Katerina, whom he wanted to like and admire him. He told of how he had felt jealous that his older brothers seemed to have been provided for, and even his sister’s husband was given an inheritance, and yet Steffan, the third son, would receive very little as an inheritance.

“I never should have been jealous. And I was rebellious. I rebelled against my father in a particularly terrible way.”

“Tell me.”

“My father sent my younger brother and me to fight on the side of his ally, Duke Konrad of Poland, but I deserted my brother and our fellow soldiers, joined with the Teutonic Knights, and fought against Duke Konrad.

“Later, I shot my brother’s future wife with an arrow in another jealous pique.”

“You shot your brother’s wife?”

“Well, she was not his wife at the time, and I thought she was a boy—she was a soldier.”

“Ah, yes. I have heard the story of the warrior maiden who fought with Duke Konrad’s soldiers. So you shot her in battle?”

“Not exactly. She was sent to scout out our whereabouts. But I shot her because I was jealous of my brother’s attention and concern for him—her. I was angry my brother had not followed me and joined with the Teutonic Knights. When we were boys, he followed my lead, and I led him into many disobedient acts, I’m afraid. But when we were grown, he listened to Father and not to me. He became the ‘good’ son, while I was always the ‘bad’ son. I decided I might as well be bad, since everyone else saw me that way.”

“Did anyone tell you that you were the bad son?”

“I heard the servants whispering about it more than once. They said I was the one who would be a disappointment to my father and mother. It made me very angry, because the rest of my brothers and sisters were so good, while I was so... angry.”

“Did you ever speak to your father about this?”

“No. I was ashamed.”

“Is there more?”

“Yes. I have killed many men.”

“In battle?”

“Yes, all in battle or in self-defense. But I was on the wrong side of the battle. I only fought for my own selfish ends—I wanted to be a knight, and the best way I could think to be knighted was to distinguish myself with the Teutonic Knights.”

“Some would say you were fighting on the side of God and righteousness if you were fighting with the Teutonic Knights.”

“But I knew their intentions were oppressive in this particular fight. They were trying to take over land that was not rightfully theirs. I knew it was wrong. In my heart... I was grieved over what I was doing, but I was angry, defiant, crazed.” Steffan’s voice was barely a whisper as he put a hand over his eyes. If only the things he was saying weren’t true. But they were.

“I also killed several men in the last few days who had taken and were holding children captive and working them in the mine.”

The priest nodded.

“And I had many thoughts of kissing a maiden.”

When Steffan did not go on, the priest said, “Is the maiden married?”

“No.”

“Are you married?”

“No.”