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CHAPTER 15
The orange light of the late afternoon sun shimmered through the crowns of trees above me. Dieter led the way down a small path behind the castle and into a patch of woods that bordered the Rhine City. Two of his soldiers were riding with us, their faces emotionless and partly hidden under their black hooded capes.
At first, there was the occasional drunk farmer tumbling along the way, but the deeper we rode into the small forest, the more secluded we became.
We had arrived at a fork on the dirt trail when Dieter brought his horse to an abrupt standstill.
“This way,” he said, pointing at the left path, the one leading away from the city. I looked at the path to the right, listening to the music and laughter in the distance.
“Are you certain?” I asked. “It seems to lead away from the city.”
Dieter nodded. “I have come down this road many times before with your mother and father when they wanted to escape the burdens of the crown.”
“Escape the crown?” I stared down the left path. It was littered with leaves, looked abandoned, and was barely wide enough to ride a horse.
“Yes. Your parents liked to mingle with commoners at taverns and plays, hidden under the disguise of wealthy merchants.”
I pictured an old painting I’d seen in the attic. Father was wearing a woolen shirt and dark pants, drinking beer from a wooden cup. My mother was by his side, wearing a dark green woolen dress and no jewelry. They were laughing, their smiles contagious even through the painting. I never thought much of it, but now...
“It will lead to an old forest chapel in the woods not far from town,” Dieter explained. “A hidden tunnel connects the old chapel to the Rhine Dome.”
It was strange, but hearing Dieter talk about my mother and father being on this very same trail, I couldn’t help but feel closer to my parents, as if I was with them on one of their many adventures downtown. Under different circumstances, I would ask Dieter a thousand questions, from what earrings my mother wore to what plays they enjoyed the most. But there was no time for any of that.
“Let’s ride,” I said and steered my horse onto the path.
Dieter and my guards followed closely as my horse galloped down the abandoned forest trail. We rode not even for five minutes when an opening with a tiny brick church revealed itself. It seemed in immaculate shape with a new shingled roof and clean, uncracked windows.
“Is this it?” I wondered.
Dieter nodded.
“I pictured something more...”
“Out of a fairy tale?” Dieter laughed. “With overgrowing vines, an old wooden door, and birds nesting in a shabby hay loft?”
“Yes.”
“Well.” Dieter swung off his horse and walked it around the brick church under a wooden overhang. We followed him. “Your father's orders were to never let this church fall into disrepair. He often came here to sit on the bench in the herb garden. There is still a monk who lives—”
“Sir, what an honor to welcome you on this blessed day,” an old, short man said, stepping out of the backdoor of the church. Thick, white eyebrows grew wildly into parts of his forehead and partially hooded his eyes.
Giving the old man a pat on the shoulder, Dieter smiled. “We would like to pray on this festive occasion, Gabriel. Please make certain no one disturbs us.”
Gabriel bowed toward Dieter, then turned his head my way and smiled. “Of course, Sir Dieter. You shall not be disturbed.”
I assumed he was looking at me, but it was hard to tell with those eyebrows obscuring his gaze.
Then he bowed once more and limped slowly along the church wall to disappear through another door at the end of the building.
We followed after him. Once inside the church, I realized there was nothing special about the building. No high ceilings or golden-framed oil paintings depicting scenes from the Bible. Instead, its white walls and ceilings were decorated with simple, dried flowers, along with a few wooden crosses and other figures here and there. But there was something calming and cozy about the place. “Is he a true man of God?” I whispered to Dieter.
“He is,” Dieter said, leading my two guards and myself toward the wooden altar. “Gabriel has been a trusted advisor of your mother’s. She often came here to pray. She couldn’t stand the gold-showered dogs at the castle, who called themselves servants of God but walked straight over the starving poor to reach their feasts.”
Dieter pushed the altar aside and revealed stairs that led into a dark tunnel. I watched in awe.
“Why do you ask, My Queen?” Dieter inquired.
Grabbing one of the burning candles on the altar, Dieter made his way down the steps and reached for one of the torches on the wall. He lit it with the candle and placed the candle on the floor. Stepping carefully, I followed him and let my eyes adjust to the darkness. It smelled of mold and moss.
