Madz,

the Unruly Student

Book 1

“Away, Away, just Away!”

by

Ruwen Rouhs

Email: ruwenrouhs@hotmail.de

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Chapter 8

The cold horror

At four o'clock on the dot I was standing in front of the shed where Pollux had placed Maxi, the NSU Max, a shiny black motorbike with a chromium-plated exhaust system. Despite the warm spring sun, my mother had made me put on long pants, a sweater, and an anorak against the air stream. "There's a draft on the bike." When I nodded meekly, the next saying was "I'm coming with you. I have to make sure you get a helmet on." This was more than I could bear, "No! Pleeeaase! Let me go alone. I'm not a baby anymore!" I whined. "Please!" Somehow, she had understood me and therefore I stood proudly alone at the shed, stepping from one foot to the other with excitement. I hoped Pollux would arrive soon! I hope he hasn't forgotten me! I almost couldn't stand it anymore. At last! Finally, my teacher, I mean Pollux, turned the corner, motorcycle helmets in hand. "That lasted!" he groaned! “At the garage, I asked if they could lend me a small helmet. Sure! But it was then gone. Finally, Master Apple tracked him down in the children's room. Anton, his son, had needed it for playing." He put the helmet on my head. It was still too large and almost slipped over his eyes. "Can't help it! You just have to keep your head up to see the landscape." Suddenly he grinned from ear to ear, "Mak, you look like a little knight going into a tournament to defeat the king!" As soon as Pollux got Maxi out of the shed, I caught sight of myself in the rearview mirror. Actually, I looked strange. In the mirror was a lanky boy with a giant head!

Off we went. Pollux started the machine and we climbed up, "Hold on to me tight! Put both arms around waist and hold on tight! And press your head against my back." Off we went. First down the hill Gondersdorf was situated, then along the river, at the next village up the small valley into the hilly backcountry. Maxi took off like the wind, at least that's how it seemed to me. The farms flew by, cows on the pasture gone, alders along a narrow brook a green shadow, then again through a village. Pollux had to slow down and follow a farmer who was driving a noisy squeaking sow through the village to the boar! The sow broke out again and again and tried to run back to her familiar stable. She still had no idea of her luck, of the grunting boar that waited for her. Finally, we were able to pass.

Outside of the village, before Pollux had even really accelerated the Maxi, a flock of sheep blocked our way over a narrow bridge. The sheepdogs tried to keep the stupid animals on the narrow road. They barked and pushed the ewes back onto the road with their noses. The ewes bleated for their offspring and the little lambs bleated for their mothers. When Pollux stopped to let the flock pass the bridge, I quickly climbed off the bike, took off my helmet, and plunged in among the animals. I looked for the smallest lamb and took the kicking animal in my arms. While I gave the little one a good talking-to, I pushed my way through the flock to Pollux. "Look how cute the little sheep is, Pollux!" and kissed the frightened animal on the nose, "Look what beautiful eyes it has. All blue, like the sky so blue. Why don't you pet it, its fur is o soft!" The shepherd came and praised me "I've been looking for an apprentice like you for a long time!" Pollux laughed at him, "I won't give away my Mak!" "I won't give away such a boy either! Is he usually so sweet?" I beamed, carefully placed the little lamb on the road, which immediately began to blead for its mother.

And on we went. On the main road, we flew past cars stuck in traffic, but had to wait at the railroad crossing for a train to pass. Then it was just into the next side valley, up the castle hill, through the open castle gate and we were standing with the rattling engine in front of Castor's, i.e. Chaplain Carlo Carsten's, dwelling, the old castle building.

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Castor was already waiting. He was the opposite of Pollux. Pollux was slender, almost too skinny and not much taller and more muscular as a 17-year-old, while the chaplain had retained his roundish figure. He was about the same height as Pollux, but appeared bulkier with a belly filling his pants to capacity. His hair was still bright red and stood up to the sky in a crewcut just like Pollux had told me.

"Greetings, greetings! You are late, I almost ate the cake alone that Andreas brought." then he turned to the door "Anders, come out my guests have arrived!" First, Castor greeted Pollux with a long hug, then he helped me off Maxi. "So, you are Magnus, The Mak, the Ganymede! Welcome! Can I call you Mak?" As he pulled the helmet off my head, he began to grin. "Now I know why Paul calls you Ganymede. You smell like a shepherd. What do you use for perfume?"

I fell silent in embarrassment, but Pollux immediately helped out, "You're lucky, he almost brought the perfume. On the way we had to pass a flock of sheep and he immediately took the sweetest little lamb in his arms," then he turned to the entrance of the palace, through which Andreas cautiously stuck out his head, "Come over Anders, come on, Mak is quite excited. He is eager to meet you and search for the hidden treasure with you."

I eyed Anders from head to toe. Anders was taller. maybe half a head or maybe more like a whole head? He was also much blonder and his long hair almost covered his eyes. Anders squinted his eyes. He had hoped Mak would be about as tall as he was. But he was much smaller. He also looked weaker. He was probably only 10 years old. Could he help him find the treasure? Let's see? But then he was surprised. Mak's handshake was strong, he almost cried out in astonishment.

I brushed my disheveled hair out of my face, laughed at Anders and punched him in the upper arm. "Man, you're big! You've got muscles! Do you work out much?" That relieved the tension, "Nah, but if you come here more often I guess I have to, your punch hurt pretty bad!"

"The quarrel of lovers is the beginning of love” shouted Pollux over to the two. "That's how our friendship started, right Carlo! Now we've been best friends for 16 years!" With that, he put his arm around Carlo's shoulder.

I followed suit, standing on my tiptoes, putting my arm around Anders' neck, "Are we going to be friends? Do you like?" Anders broke away from the embrace, stepped back, eyed me closely, and shook his head in consideration, "Don't know? You're only elven and I'm nearly fourteen. My classmates would laugh at me."

"I'm soon will be twelve, so I'm only two years younger, it doesn't matter." and turned my back to Andreas so that he wouldn't see that I had tears of disappointment in my eyes.

Andreas, however, noticed this immediately. "Come on kid, I told you I don't know yet! We don't know each other at all! Maybe you won't like me after a while, when you get to know me better! I promise you Mak, if I like you, then I don't care what my classmates say."

Castor and Pollux had been watching the two closely. Now, as Mak and Anders turned around, Carlo shouted, "Try it! I bet it'll work. Anders help Mak with his backpack and show him where he will sleep. Then wash up and come down to eat cake!"

Only a small part of the once spacious castle building was left standing. On the lower floor was a large hall, with a ceiling two stories high. On wall in the ack of the room and on its right alternated bookshelves and old paintings. In the back an open staircase was leading to a gallery, from which doors opened to other rooms. To the left of the entrance was a huge dining table with chairs of various origins, to the right a wide sofa. In its front a table was between two armchairs. In the left side wall, a door led into the kitchen and another into the bathroom.

As Anders led me down the hall, which was Carlo's living room, to the stairs, I was able to study the paintings more closely. One showed a bishop in habit, another an officer in uniform, a third a saint on his knees. Next to the staircase hung the stuffed head of a boar with large curved tusks. The chandelier over the dining table was composed of deer antler poles. It was wider than the table itself. I was so engrossed in looking that I almost tripped up the first flight of stairs. "Luckily you're not a giant Mak, otherwise I wouldn't have been able to catch you." Anders laughed. “Now you see Anders, that a small friend has advantages, also!" Pollux shouted after us.

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Only little daylight penetrated the guest room through two lancet windows. The reason was a old copper beech tree that grew between the castle building and the keep. It was filtering out the bright daylight. As a result, it was rather gloomy and cool in the narrow room. To the right of the door on the side wall stood a wide bed with a colorful throw. At its left side was a desk and a bookshelf. A narrow door led into large rooms next to it. The door was locked.

Immediately I rushed to the bookcase, but was disappointed to find only books in Latin and no novels of chivalry. However, on the desk was a jam jar full of pencils and next to it a notebook and a drawing pad. I was happy, because I liked to draw.

Meanwhile Anders had thrown himself belly-down on the bed. "The bed is soft, I'm sure you'll sleep well! But it's pretty chilly in here." "True, it's dark and a bit spooky! Do you think, Anders, that the castle is haunted? "Ghosts? In the village they tell of a White Woman who is said to walk around here in winter, and in summer storms a knight in armor is said to rumble through the house. But I don't believe it." "And your Veit Scharpf, your robber chief, did he rumble in here too?" "Don't know! Maybe he's the knight. If we get a thunderstorm today, you can ask him!" Overthinking Anders’ report I was close to creeping out. "Are you sleeping at this place, also? It's creepy here and so cold, I already have goosebumps running down my back." "Hey Mak, you're even smaller than you pretend! Don't get your panties in a bunch." Anders struggled with himself, then laughed, "You know what, if you can talk the chaplain into it, I'll be happy to stay here and protect you! I'd would love to sleep here in the castle for once." "I don't need your protection, I'm used to old houses like this, but it would be nice if you slept with me" I thought for a moment, "Do you think Carlos will let you sleep here? I'm asking, just not right away. But there's only one bed here!" "Maybe there are mattresses and blankets somewhere." Then I rubbed my nose and thought for a moment, "Anders, you claimed I was still soooo small. It's not like you're a giant! We can share the bed. But you have to promise not to pee in it or tickle me." "Agreed baby-boy. But if you snore, I'll tickle you awake. I always have to tickle Alies awake too."

"My name is Mak or Magnus, my name is not baby-boy! What is that anyway?" "Baby-boy is what the people here say to little children who are sweet! Aren't you sweet?" I stuck my tongue out at Anders. But he just laughed, "I knew it!"

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As a surprise and welcome for me Alies had ask Anders to bring along pig's ears, a special pastry. Pig’s ears like these, I had never seen nor eaten them before. I marveled if I could even handle one of the hand-sized pastries after the copious snack of rolls and cheese Carlo had served. We could, Anders and me! As Anders burped because he was also more than full, I admonished him, "You don't burp!” and added, “If I do that at home, my grandmother will send me right off the table! So please!" Paul and Carlo laughed while Anders leaned over to me and whispered, "Alies, my brother, doesn't mind! It's only when I fart that he gets mad and scolds me."

Paul, aka Pollux, smirked and pointed to the next ones, "Get going boys! Tomorrow they won't be so tasty!" with that he slid the next pig's ear onto each of our plates. Here in the town of Hallberg, it wasn't just a dry piece of puff pastry. No! Two golden-brown puff pastry pretzels were stuck together with cream as thick as a finger. In addition, one of the corners of the pastry was dipped in chocolate. Me and Anders bit into it almost simultaneously, and as the cream from the pig's ear oozed over our fingers, we licked it off happily.

"At the table, the distinguished gentleman does not lick his fingers! Where is the decency!" laughed Carlo now and he laughed even more when Paul also had to help with his tongue. Alies had taken the precaution of getting seven pig's ears. When now everyone has had his pastry, that is Carlo and Paul each one and Anders and me two, Carlo clapped his hands, "Where there's a will there's a way! Otherwise it will rain tomorrow."

Anders and I grabbed at almost the same time. Result: the pig's ear almost fell to the ground. Luckily Paul caught it. He took a knife and divided it fairly among us. As soon as the last crumb was devoured, Anders began to wiggle around on his chair impatiently, "Can we finally get into the tower now, Vicar Carstens? It'll be dark in a minute." "Impatient?" he grinned, "Magnus and Anders, you can call me by my first name, please." Then he dug the key out of his pocket and handed it to Anders. "There's light inside! But today we'll only visit the tower, I won't let you into the underworld until tomorrow! The light switch is right next to the entrance!"

Anders pulled me by the hand to the tower. He almost tore off my arm, he was in such a hurry. The entrance to the keep was in a small windowless porch. We went through the dim archway and faced the door into the keep proper. Anders unlocked the door and while Anders was still looking for the light switch at the entrance, I had already disappeared inside the tower.

It was dark inside, since the arrow-slits in the heavy walls let only a little light into the dark room. Left and right of the entrance two horrifying figures loomed, which seemed to be bones only. Shivers crept own my spine and I frightened. In turning around, I recognized these were the armor of knights warding the entrance with halberds. Still slightly shivering I took a heart and passed the door.

The circular room was immersed in twilight as to the light penetrating through the arrow-slits only little light was added from the floor above which could be accessed by a shaky staircase. On the gray walls between the murder-holes all kind of weapons were hanging. At first glance I recognize heavy shields, long swords, heavy axes and lances, as well as rough chains, saws long as a man with long hoes and tools with sharp spikes. While I was still pondering for what purpose these tools were use, my eye remained stuck on a big chair in the middle of the room. At first sight it reminded me on an emperor’s throne. But that couldn’t be, because there were neither soft cushions nor shimmering gold ornament or a crest. Instead pointed spikes protruded from the backrest, the seat and the armrests.

Right next to it, a higher as man-sized cage loomed. It seemed to be able to hold two dozen of pigeons, but for this purpose the cage struts were too much apart. Now I remembered. I had seen such a cage suspended at a church tower, I even remembered its name. It was a gibbet cage. In the late middle ages sentenced criminals or political enemies were put in such an iron gibbet and left there till they died of hunger and thirst. And now I recognized the purpose of the highchair also. It was a witch’s chair or iron chair used to extort confession from innocent people. Now I remembered the term for the rocking horse on the side of the witch’s chair also. It was neither a supersized rocking horse or a supersized saw horse. It was a wooden pony or Spanish donkey.

In just a second all this was running through my mind and goose pumps began to run down my back. Was I just the cold air of the tower? Gradually I became overwhelmed by fright. A draft from the entrance increased the goose bumps even more and I turned around. "Get going Anders, turn on the lights, turn them on, hurry!" I called. Actually, I wanted to scream, "It’s scary in here! I'm scared to death!" But I didn’t. I didn’t want to show any weakness in front of my new friend and kept my mouth shut. Fortunately, Anders shouted this moment, "I can't find the light switch. But the chaplain is coming, he'll know where the switch is."

Suddenly the lamp hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the room flared up and Carlo, Paul and Anders pushed their way through the doorway. I was still standing in front of the high chair, trembling slightly. I was shaking and felt completely abandoned when Paul put his arm around my shoulders finally and pulled me close. Immediately all was well again, especially when he praised me, "You are brave Mak, like a knight. They're not afraid after all, not even of witches, and werewolves."

"Do you know what that is? That horse without a head?" turned Carlo to us and pointed to the sawhorse "That's a Spanish donkey!" However, he only earned questioning looks from the Paul and Anders! Therefore he explained, "On the donkey, criminals and apostate Christians were questioned by the judges in a highly embarrassing way. See the prongs on the back?" He pointed to them, "The interrogated had to sit naked on the beam with prongs. Of course, after a short time, they penetrated their butts. Once they penetrated deep enough and they couldn't stand the pain anymore, they confessed to whatever the court wanted." "And if they didn't want to confess?" Anders asked. "Yes, then weights were hung on their feet so the prongs would bore even deeper into their bodies. Soon the poor people were howling and wailing and then admitting everything the judges wanted to know."

"What if they had told the truth before, if they hadn't even done what the court accused them of doing, if they were innocent?" I objected. "The judges didn't care about that at all! They only wanted to know what they or their king wanted to hear from the accused."

Carlo pulled the boys further into the room until they were in front of the throne. "Do you believe in witches? Do you believe that women fly to Blocksberg on a broomstick to celebrate Walpurgis Night with the devil?" I shook my head. Anders, however, said, "Our neighbor always calls the old hunchbacked woman who lives further down the street Witch, Old Witch! The old Witch, he always says, she brings bad luck on the whole village, she dances with the devil on Night before May Day and then she bewitches the cattle!" He looked uncertainly back and forth between Paul and Carlo, "But I don't think the old man is right. The woman is always nice to me!" "You mustn't, because witches don't exist!" Paul reinforced Anders in his opinion, "But 500 years ago people believed in witches, but also in sorcerers. Even priests and bishops believed that!" he pointed to the throne chair. "Because at that time almost everyone was convinced that old women could do witchcraft. They also wanted to prove that it was the old women who were wishing bad luck on their neighbors! But that wasn't easy at all." "Yes, yes," Carlo took up the thread of the story, "There were different witch trials, for example, the water trial with hot or cold water. In the trial with hot water, the accused woman had to reach with one arm into a bucket of boiling water and take out a consecrated ring. If her arm was not scalded afterwards, she was acquitted of the accusation. In the cold-water trial, the accused was tied to a wooden cross and thrown into a pond with the cross. If the woman sank, she was not a witch and was acquitted. If, on the other hand, she floated on the water together with the cross, she was a witch." "And what happened to the witches if they did not pass the tests?" I turned to Carlo. "Those acquitted could go home, but those convicted were burned at the stake." "Were many burned, Carlo? "Mak, you can't imagine how many alleged witches were burned in Europe! Almost 60,000! But not only women were burned as witches, but also men. Of the 60,000 victims, I'm sure 10,000 were men."

"Confessions were extorted in other ways, too, not only with the Spanish donkey! The throne here is called the witch's throne, but it is also called the Judas throne," Paul intervened. "The accused, that is, the alleged witch, was placed on this throne. As you can see, nails protrude from the seat, from the backrest, from the armrests and footrests. The victim was tied to the chair and questioned for hours. During this time, the nails slowly penetrated her flesh. Deeper and deeper they penetrated until the accused, out of desperation, admitted everything the judges wanted."

"Was Veit Scharpf also tortured like this by Profost to make him confess where he had hidden the stolen gold and gems!" wanted Anders to know excitedly. "Maybe, maybe not, Anders!" nodded Carlo, "But surely, he wasn't tortured so severely that he died in the process, because then they wouldn't have been able to find out where the treasure was hidden."

"They used to know more torture methods, like holding the head under water or hanging the accused on chains or stretching him in the rack." Paul pulled Mag and Anders to the other end of the vault, "Here, see the wide bench with the pulley at the bottom. See the crank on the pulley? That was an important instrument of torture. It was called a stretching bench. The accused had to lie lengthwise on the bench so that his feet faced the roller. His arms were tied to the bench above his head and his legs were bound with ropes tied to the roller. Then the torturers turned the pulley and wound the ropes on it until the body was completely stretched. Then the torture began. Now when they kept turning, one bone after another slowly began to pop out of its joint, first from the arm and shoulder joints, then from the leg joints. They turned the crank until the accused made a confession. Most did not survive the rack."

"Stop it, stop it!" I screamed, "I don't want to hear about it anymore. I don't want to hear about the other instruments of torture hanging on the wall or lying on the table here either. I want out!" I turned around and ran for the exit. Anders, however, wanted to know one more thing. "What's that cage there?" but Carlo quickly pulled him out of the showroom, "I think we'd better get some fresh air. There I can even show you where the cage was hanging." Outside, Carlo pointed to a large hook in the tower wall. "The cage was for convicts. They were locked in the cage. That was winched up to the big hook and hung there. The condemned had to stay in there and were exposed to the ridicule of the people. Sometimes the body of an executed person was also displayed like that to warn people."

I, however, did not hear the last explanation, but had rushed headlong back into the castle building. When Paul followed, I had curled up on the sofa and was sobbing. He sat down next to me and stroked my back, "Oh boy, oh my Ganymede, did it take you so badly? Don't be afraid, today torture is abolished! Really, you don't have to be afraid."

I had already calmed down a bit when Carlo and Anders came in, but I was still crying quietly to myself. Anders, however, seized the favorable opportunity. "Babyboy, Babyboy, don't be afraid. I'm with you," and he began to stroke my hair, "If you want, I'll stay with you and watch over you all night." Then he turned to Carlo, "Can I sleep with Mak, Mr. Chaplain? I can't leave him alone, please!" "That's for Mak to decide, and your brother Alies. Agreed Paul?" "Maybe that's best, but only if MaK agrees too. I don't want him to tell his mother he couldn't sleep here because of fear. Then I'm sure she won't allow him to go with us." Hearing this, despite the tears still running down my cheeks, I sat up and asked, "It would be nice if Anders could stay with me, the bed is big enough for both of us. Please Carlo, please Mr. Chaplain!"

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Authors Note

This is the English version of the story posted in German language. My native language is German and my English is very inept. I hope you don’t mind.

Comments, reviews, questions and complaints are welcomed. Please send them to ruwenrouhs@hotmail.de.

And I would like to add, thanks for reading.

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