The dull scrape of wood against wood echoed from the top of the stairs.
“What is happening?” Raina inched closer to Rich as crates, sacks, and barrels materialized around their stark classroom. “Birdie?”
“Shhh!” Friedrich sliced both hands through the air to silence her.
Birdie held her breath. There was nowhere to hide now, not for all of them. The guard would surely see them.
And then what?
A sliver of sunlight sliced through the room.
There was nothing left to do except wait for the guard to rumble down the stairs, take one look at them, and sound the alarm. They’d be captured, questioned, and held against their will.
A shadow passed through the opening, blocking the sunlight as the door drifted shut.
Birdie gasped.
It was not the grizzled guard who’d slipped in, but a young woman in a black dress, her hair wrapped in a white scarf. She scurried down the stone steps in a rush of fabric, her gaze trained over her shoulder to ensure the heavy wooden doors stayed closed behind her.
She dipped into the shadows when she reached the storeroom floor, plastering her slight frame against the hard wall. She squeezed her eyes shut, her thin chest heaving in the cool, damp air.
Birdie glanced at the others, who had gone still.
The young woman regained her breath and opened her eyes, which grew wide at the sight of the stunned campers. She grasped her black skirts as if to flee, but then seemed to think better of it as hooves pounded the path above.
A guard – thinner and taller than the last, but with the same rose embroidered on his tunic – flung both doors wide as if they weighed nothing at all, thrust a torch into the storeroom, and waved it wildly.
He shouted as the golden light spilled over them.
“Nein!” Friedrich shouted back, pitching his voice a few octaves lower than normal.
Curiosity registered on the guard’s face, and he squinted against the torchlight. He started down the steps as another regiment on horseback approached. He glanced over his shoulder at a passing guard, who yelled something that caused him to bound back up the stairs and outside.
The campers stood motionless as the doors drifted closed again, and remained that way until the clamor of the search party fell away.
Louisa cleared her throat. “Will someone please explain exactly what is going on?” She stepped forward and faced them. “Birdie—”
“Dankeschön.” The young woman’s voice was barely audible from across the room. She slid down the wall to the dirt floor and covered her face with her hands. “Danke.”
“Is she saying thank you?” Birdie whispered to Louisa.
Louisa tilted her head as she considered the young woman. “She is.”
“You’re welcome.” Rich pulled his attention away from the young woman and regarded the leather sacks and wooden barrels that lined the walls, the crates that teetered in towers toward the ceiling. He pointed to a pair of fiery torches illuminating the room and turned to Birdie. “What happened to this place? Was Kayla telling the truth? Did the glass do this?”
Ryan tugged on a piece of twine that held a sack closed. He peered inside, then up at his brother. “Food.” A note of delight touched the word. “Cherries. Come see this.” He rooted in the bag for one, tossed it into the air like a baseball, then popped it into his mouth.
Rich remained focused on Birdie. “Well?”
The others were silent, as if not sure what to pay attention to first – Rich and Birdie, the stockpile that filled the room, or the young woman, who still cowered by the stairs.
Birdie swallowed. “I’ll explain everything. Just give me a minute.”
“Start with her.” Raina glared at the young woman. “Who is she?”
“I will find out.” Friedrich approached the young woman slowly, displaying his empty palms. When he was still several feet away, he paused and spoke to her in German, his voice soft.
She lifted her head and raised her chin defiantly. She wore no makeup, but her pale cheeks were flushed from running, her blue eyes bright and alive.
“What did he say to her?” Birdie asked.
“Shhh.” Louisa shook her head. “Just wait.”
“Can’t you translate?”
Louisa seemed startled by the question. She looked at Birdie, then at the others who’d crowded in behind her. “Yes, yes, of course. I forgot that none of you—”
She shook her head again and translated. “He asked who she is.”
Friedrich had moved closer to the young woman, who was still crouched low. She eyed him like a cornered kitten, unsure whether to flee or reveal its claws.
“You are safe here,” Friedrich said, his hands open. “We will not harm you.”
She peered around his legs at the others, as if trying to decide if she should trust this strange, spindly person and his ill-dressed companions.
When she finally spoke, the words came in a soft rush.
Louisa stepped forward to hear as she softly echoed the conversation in English for the others, who crowded behind her.
“I am Marielle.” The young woman clasped her hands in her lap. “I’m in trouble. Horrible, horrible trouble. I fear for my life.”
Friedrich folded himself down onto the dirt floor so they were nearly eye-to-eye. “What is this trouble? Surely it can’t be that bad?”
Her face crumpled.
“Nein,” Friedrich said hastily. “I’m sorry. Don’t cry. Tell me what happened.”
Marielle sucked in a deep breath. She shuddered and closed her eyes as she exhaled. When she reopened them, she seemed to have regained some of her dignity.
“I am lady’s maid to Princess Elisabeth.” She gathered a handful of her thick skirts and kneaded the material between her fingers.
“But,” Birdie whispered beside Louisa, “that’s who I play—”
Louisa placed a finger to her lips and Birdie fell silent.
Marielle seemed not to notice, to have almost forgotten the others were there, as her pleading eyes locked on Friedrich’s.
“There has been a theft, a terrible theft from the keep. I did not do it. You must believe me. I swear I didn’t do it. I’ve never seen what they search for!”
“I believe you.” Friedrich glanced toward the top of the stairs, where the doors remained tightly shut. “But why do the guards think you’re guilty? What happened?”
“But you must know!” She leaned forward. “The entire village has been preparing for the wedding. Princess Elisabeth is to be married in two days’ time to the heir of one of the greatest fortresses on the Mosel River.”
“Yes, of course.” Friedrich spoke slowly. “The wedding.”
“It is critical! The wedding must happen. The families have been warring for generations, and this marriage will bring peace to the lands between the Mosel and the Rhine once and for all.”
“The wedding—” Friedrich’s voice faltered, and he seemed lost in thought.
“But now – now the wedding cannot go forward. Everything is ruined!”
Friedrich refocused on Marielle. “Why? Why won’t it happen?”
“Because the duke promised the prince – Prince Gunzelin – a significant dowry.”
“Figures,” Kayla whispered.
“Shhh!” the campers all said at once.
Marielle continued as if she hadn’t heard them. “The dowry includes cloth, gold, silver, and weapons. But the duke has locked the most valuable item in a small wooden chest inside the trunk that protects the dowry.”
Friedrich’s eyes grew wide. “What is it?”
“Something Prince Gunzelin wants more than anything else. It’s the only reason the families even considered the marriage.”
“But what is it?”
Marielle leaned in closer, squeezing the fabric in her hands. “It’s inside the chest. Locked away. You must understand. I overheard the princess talking to her father. She does not want to be married. She does not find Prince Gunzelin suitable. But her mother is gone and there is no one to argue against the marriage on her behalf. She tried so hard to dissuade her father from accepting the proposal, but he did not listen to her.”
“Marielle.” Friedrich’s tone was strained. “What is in the chest?”
“The chess piece.” She whispered the words, as if saying them aloud would bring more trouble to her door. “The knight on horseback, the last remaining piece from an ancient set. They say the man who possesses the knight will be forever blessed with wealth, privilege, and power. It was the promise of the knight that sealed the marriage proposal.”
“A single chess piece?”
She nodded. “The knight on horseback, encrusted with jewels.”
“And the knight will grant the prince all he seeks?”
“Prince Gunzelin seeks great wealth and power. The knight will bring him those things, and bestow them on all the generations who follow.” Marielle glanced at the others before continuing. “But I don’t believe the prince will stop there. The knight is just one piece. The other pieces vanished long ago. Some say they were buried in France, others say they were lost to the sea. The legend claims any man who possesses the complete set will rule the world!”
Friedrich was quiet for a moment as he took in what Marielle said. “And this theft?”
“The dowry.” Marielle twisted her apron again. “The entire dowry is missing! Everything inside the trunk has disappeared. It is empty!”
“The cloth, the gold? The chest? Everything?”
“Stolen! Gone!” Marielle’s eyes welled with tears. “And they think I took it!”
“But why?” Friedrich asked. “Why would they think that?”
“As lady’s maid, I’m the only servant with access to the place where the dowry was locked away.”
On the other side of the storeroom, Birdie wondered if it could be true, if this slip of a young servant could have done it, stolen everything from the trunk that held the dowry, and somehow spirited away the valuable chess piece. But where would she go with it? She’d be caught if she tried to sell it.
“We must help her,” Louisa said.
“This is the best… history… camp… ever!” Sophia dropped into the guard’s rickety chair and crossed her short legs.
They all stared at her.
“What?” she said.
“How do we know she didn’t steal everything?” Raina placed her hands on her hips. “She could be making us accomplices to her crime.”
Louisa translated for Marielle, although Birdie hoped she softened the question.
“I took nothing.” Marielle wiped the tears from her cheeks and looked defiant. “I am not a thief. I am loyal to the princess. I have no need for fancy linens or silver, and the chess piece is useless to me. And even if I were a thief, which I am not, the chest that holds the chess piece is impossible to unlatch. It has a lock that only the duke knows how to open.”
“So all those guards were searching for you?” Ryan dropped a handful of cherries back into a sack. “Wow.”
“Yes,” Friedrich replied, “they were searching for Marielle. They must be frantic to find the dowry.”
“What will they do when they find her?” Ryan crossed his arms.
“Torture the information from her.”
“But she just said that she doesn’t know anything.”
“No matter,” Friedrich replied.
“That’s the way it worked back then, Ryan.” Rich eyed Marielle. “They were pretty brutal.”
“Well, it sure sucks to be her.” Kayla strolled toward the stairs.
“Where are you going?” Sophia grinned. “This is just getting good.”
“Kayla, you saw the image on the aventurine.” Birdie shot a worried look at Sophia before she continued. “That can’t be a coincidence. We can’t just leave Marielle here to be tortured. Besides, you’re bluffing. You know you can’t go anywhere looking like that.”
“Well, what do you suggest we do about it?” Kayla spun to face her. “For all we know, she really did steal the stupid dowry and stashed it away somewhere.”
“Good question.” Sophia twisted a strand of dark hair between her fingers. “Very good question.” She considered her brother. “This is the first history camp with a mystery challenge. That steps it up a notch.”
“Sophia, you’re not getting this,” Sam said.
She turned to Friedrich. “Tell us the goal of the game.”
“I am afraid” – Friedrich offered his hand to Marielle as he stood – “that this is anything but a game.”