Germany -- History -- Juvenile fiction; Knights and knighthood -- Juvenile fiction; Middle Ages -- Juvenile fiction
Following Hansei’s glance, Wulf descried the hunchback boy of his
adventure seated at board, drinking from a great mug of ale. With him
was the other boy, who, Hansei told him, was Waldemar Guelder, and some
kin to Herr Banf, in whose charge he was, to be trained as a knight.
“He’s not such a bad one,” the stable-boy said, “an it were not for
Master Conradt, who would drag down the best that had to do with him.”
Thus, one by one, Hansei pointed out knights and followers, squires and
men, until in Wulf’s tired brain all was a jumble of names and faces
that he knew not. Glad indeed was he when at last his companion nodded
to him, and slipping out from the hall, they made their way to the
horse-barn, where, up under the rafters of a great hay-filled loft, the
pair made their beds in the fragrant grasses, and slept soundly until
the stamping of horses below them, and the sunlight streaming into their
faces through an open loft door, awakened them.
CHAPTER VI
HOW CONRADT PLOTTED MISCHIEF, AND HOW WULF WON A FRIEND
It was perhaps a matter of six weeks after Wulf’s coming to the
Swartzburg that he sat, one day, in a wing of the stables, cleaning and
shining Herr Banf’s horse-gear. He was alone at the time, for all of the
younger boys and hangers-on of the place were gone about the matter of a
rat-catching trial between two rival dogs whose bragging owners had
matched them; and of the others, most had ridden with the baron on a
freebooting errand against a body of merchants known to be traveling
that way with rich loads of goods and much money. Only Herr Werner, of
all the knights, was at the castle.
Save for Hansei, who stood by him stoutly, Wulf had as yet made no
friends among his fellow-workers, but full well had he shown himself
able to take his own part; so that his bravery and prowess, and his
heartiness to help whenever a lift or a hand was needed, had already won
him a place and fair treatment among them. Moreover, his quick wit and
craft with Siegfried, the terror of the stables, made the master of
horse his powerful friend. And, again, Wulf was already growing well
used to the ways of the place, so that it was with a right cheerful and
contented mind that he sat, that day, scouring away upon a rusty
stirrup-iron.
Presently it seemed to him that he heard a little noise from over by the
stables, and peering along under the arch of the great saddle before
him, he saw a puzzling thing. Crossing the stable floor with wary tread
and watchful mien, as minded to do some deed privily, and fearful to be
seen, was Conradt.
“Now what may he be bent upon?” Wulf asked of his own thought. “No good,
I’ll lay wager!” And he sat very still, watching every movement of the
little crooked fellow.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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