The ride back to Sankt Goar from Bacharach passed quickly. There were fewer bikers and hikers this late in the day, and Birdie and her mom cruised by the campground and the lookout point without needing to slow or let others get through. When they reached the hotel, Herr Mueller was busy folding cloth napkins at the front desk.
“Ah, the beautiful Blessings! Did you enjoy the bike ride?”
“Yes, thank you for arranging the bikes.” Mrs. Blessing handed Herr Mueller the keys to their bike locks. “It was great. Lovely weather too.”
“Ah, yes, that is good. I will see you at breakfast tomorrow.” He turned away to hang the keys on the pegboard behind the reception desk.
Mrs. Blessing led Birdie toward the stairs. “I’d like to get some more work done tonight, and I need to make a list of questions for the craftsman. I don’t want to forget to ask him anything tomorrow. Could you read or draw for a while?”
“Do you mind if I hang out down here?” She motioned to Sam and Sophia, who were tucked into a seating area near the breakfast room, deep in conversation. “I see a couple of kids from camp by the fireplace.”
Her mom sized up Sam and Sophia. “Sure. I guess that’s okay. Just don’t be too late.” She headed up the stairs.
Birdie started toward them but hesitated.
What was she doing? Who knew how they’d react to seeing her outside of camp, especially after everything that had happened during the afternoon?
Sam and Sophia looked up, recognition flashing across their faces.
She swallowed and finished crossing the lobby. “Hey.”
“Hey, Birdie.” Sam motioned to an empty seat. “Just the person we wanted to see.”
Her shoulders relaxed as she slid into the cushy chair across from them.
“We’ve been researching Burg Rheinfels.” Sophia pointed to a laptop and a bedraggled book on the coffee table. “I found a website with stories about the Rhine River and Sam picked up this book from the little library upstairs in the hall.” She closed the cover. “It’s called Legends of the Rhine River.”
“Did you find anything?”
Sam crossed his sneaker over his knee, his dark eyes sparkling with amusement. “I’ll say we found something. Did you know, for instance, that there were once fire-breathing dragons that guarded the river’s treasures in a cave?”
Birdie grinned and shook her head.
“Well, there were. The dragons were here at the same time the giants roamed the shores of the river. And not just giants, mind you, there were goblins too. Evil goblins who stole the treasure from the dragons’ caves.”
Birdie lifted her brows. “Evil goblins?”
Sam laughed. “Yep.”
Sophia rolled her eyes. “I saw those stories, too, but I was more interested in a legend I found. It’s about a princess who was jilted at the altar when her dowry went missing.”
Birdie’s smile faded. “Wait. What? You seriously found a legend that said that?”
Sophia couldn’t hide the excitement in her voice. “I did. And it mentioned a chess piece too.”
“No way. What happened to it?”
“No one knows. They never found the dowry.”
Birdie let that information sink in. If the dowry was still missing, then the chest was too. That meant – unless Marielle ran from Burg Rheinfels and Sankt Goar for good – the young woman’s fate was sealed. From the look in Sophia’s eyes, she’d understood that too.
“Now we have to go look for it.” Sam uncrossed his legs and leaned in. “It’ll be like a real-life treasure hunt. Who knows? Maybe those goblins took it somewhere for revenge and hid it.”
“I found a legend about that too.” Sophia picked up the laptop.
“About goblins?” Birdie asked.
Sophia shook her head. “Not about fairy tale creatures. Sam, really, stop with all that nonsense or Birdie will think you actually believe it. I found a legend about real people. Real living people who wanted revenge.”
Birdie and Sam exchanged glances. “We’re listening,” he said.
“Okay. So it goes like this. There was a village across the river. There still is, actually, but it was different back then. Back then, the people in that village despised the people in Sankt Goar.”
“Why?” Birdie asked.
“There doesn’t seem to be a good reason. Just a lot of rumors, superstitions, and misunderstandings. It was the Middle Ages, remember.”
“It could have been a disagreement about who could collect the tolls,” Sam said.
“Maybe. So anyway, one night, the men from that village launched a sneak attack against Sankt Goar to steal wine and silver and anything else they could get their hands on. They wore chainmail and helmets and waited upstream in a cove until dark. Then they set off in skiffs across the water. The Rhine was a broad, wild, untamed river then, so they had to wait until the weather was calm and the night had no moon.
“They pushed through the water, using the current to their advantage. But they didn’t know Sankt Goar had stationed sentries on the town wall. That night, the sentries were two baker boys who had to stand watch until their shift began at dawn at the bakery.”
“That must have been awful,” Sam said. “Up all night and then off to work.”
“Well, they were awake when it mattered. The boys heard the splash of water rushing over the oars as the skiffs neared. One of them ran to tell the elders what was happening. Within minutes, the whole town was awake.”
“Everyone?” Sam tilted his chin.
Sophia shrugged. “It’s a small village. So anyway, as luck would have it, one townsman was a beekeeper who kept his hives at the foot of the town wall, where they were less likely to be disturbed. It also happened to be where the men from across the river thought they were least likely to get caught. So they propped their ladders against the walls and scaled them, rung by rung. They’d almost reached the top of the wall, and then—” Sophia jumped up and imitated the swoosh of the hives coming down onto the men’s heads. “The baker boys thrust the beehives down onto the tips of their pointy helmets!”
“Well, you can just imagine what happened.” She reclaimed her chair. “The beehives burst open, bees, honey, and all. The men slid back down the ladders and ran, screaming, all the way back to the river where they jumped in to escape the swarm. Needless to say, they were completely humiliated and vowed to get revenge on the people of Sankt Goar.”
Birdie remembered the statue in the square. She leaned in closer. “And they got that revenge by stealing the princess’s dowry?”
“Could be, because the timing seems right and, after the wedding was called off, the town across the river prospered and Sankt Goar struggled.”
“It does kind of match the story that Peter told us.” Sam rubbed his chin.
“But he said that they wanted revenge against him, not the town,” Birdie said.
Sam stopped rubbing. “Maybe he’s one of the baker boys.”
“Oh Sam, I hadn’t thought of that. But it would make complete sense!” Sophia slapped her knees. “After the baker boys thwarted the invaders, the duke’s family made them personal guards at the fortress. It was a prominent position and Peter would have surely known Marielle.”
“So maybe the thieves really did hide the chest somewhere on the other riverbank,” Sam said.
“That’s awesome research, Sophia. Did you find anything else?”
She pulled her phone from her pocket. “Just an illustration of the chest and the chess piece.”
Birdie sat back against the chair. “You’re kidding.”
Sophia rotated the phone to face them. The black-and white illustration was small, and she had to zoom in to make the details big enough to see. “This is the chest.”
Birdie studied the fine lines from each mark the woodworker had made. “Where did you find this?”
“On a museum’s website. It’s in Cologne. They’ve put a lot of their collection online so people can visit them virtually.”
“What does the description say?”
Sophia zoomed in on the words. “Lost Jewel Chest. Rhine River. Late 1400s.”
She zoomed back out so they could see the image.
“So that’s the chest,” Sam said. “It’s kind of small.”
“It probably is fairly small,” Sophia said. “This was a special piece – like a safe – that they could hide inside the larger cedar-lined trunk that held everything else.”
“The details are amazing.” Birdie studied the image on the screen. “Even in this sketch. The carvings are so perfect.”
Sophia pulled up a second illustration.
“The chess piece,” Sam said. “A knight. Is that from the same museum?”
Sophia nodded. “They found the two illustrations together.”
The figure showed an armored man atop a horse that reared up on its hind legs. Even in the black-and-white illustration, Birdie could tell the piece was laden with jewels and gemstones.
“So the chest and the knight were real.” Sam leaned back in his seat. “Marielle was telling us the truth.”
“Very real,” Sophia said. “Or at least real enough for someone to take the time to document in these drawings.”
The bell on the front door chimed, and they all jumped. They turned in time to see an older man and woman shuffle in, lugging heavy suitcases behind them, their faces red from exertion.
“Finally!” The woman leaned heavily against the suitcase handle.
“I thought we’d never make it,” the man puffed. “Remind me to give that damned Marty McEntire a piece of my mind if I ever meet him. Dragging us out here to the middle of nowhere. And for what?” He gestured around the lobby with a chubby hand.
“Let’s get checked in and find someplace to eat,” the woman said. “Assuming there is some place to eat way out here.”
Herr Mueller appeared behind the front desk and greeted them in German.
“Expression-zee-English?” the man bellowed.
Birdie covered her mouth to hide her grin.
“This place is really off the beaten path, isn’t it?” The woman didn’t seem to care if Herr Mueller could understand her or not. “Please tell me there is a restaurant here?”
Herr Mueller switched to English, his voice patient and kind. “Yes, ma’am, there are many.” He calmly pulled the town map from the pile he kept under the counter and spread it out. He pointed to a place on the map. “This is a pizza—”
“Pizza!” The woman threw her hands into the air. “I thought this was Germany.”
“We should go for a walk.” Sam nodded toward the couple.
“It is kind of nice outside,” Birdie said.
“I could use some fresh air.” Sophia snapped the laptop closed. “I’ll text Mom and Dad and let them know. You should tell your mom too. Sam, run this laptop and book up to our room, will you?”
“Which way?” Sophia asked several minutes later as they stepped down onto the empty sidewalk in front of the hotel. The bikes were already gone, probably stored in the shed she’d seen in the backyard from the window in her room.
Birdie pointed to the bike path. “Let’s go that way. There’s a lot to see. My mom and I rode bikes out that way for dinner.”
The sun remained bright despite the hour, and the main road was quiet. They crossed it and started down the path. Historic markers lined the route, pointing out interesting sites along the way. Birdie hadn’t noticed them when they’d cruised through on their bikes, but on foot they were hard to miss.
“Where did everybody go?” Sam glanced up and down the trail as they read a marker detailing the history of shipping on the Rhine. “This place is deserted.”
As if on cue, the sorrowful whistle of a train floated down from the station a few blocks above them.
“I think this is more of a day trip kind of place,” Birdie said. “That’s how it was when we were in Bruges, anyway. As soon as the tour groups pulled out, it got quiet.”
“We were in London before we came here.” Sophia tugged a hair-tie from her wrist and looped it around her dark hair to stop it from blowing into her face. “It was never quiet there. Are you going to London?”
Birdie thought about it. She had to make a better effort to remember their itinerary. “That may be our last stop at the end of the summer.”
“You’ll love it. There’s a ton to do, and it moves so fast.” Sophia looked around. “Kind of the opposite of here.”
“I don’t know, Sophia.” Sam leaned against the railing overlooking the river. “I kind of like having the place to ourselves. London was cool, but Sankt Goar has its charms too. Where else do they have dragons, giants, and goblins?”