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Stories from the Verse
Con Version
Chapter 40: Cooper 13
Table of Contents
Previous chapter: Brown 295
A quick early breakfast, and they were off. Hans had been told to stay in bed later to have his regular breakfast, and so the two men did not see him that morning. Cooper took the reins for the first part, and was ready to give them back when Wilhelm suggested he keep on going. The minor nobleman was sitting next to him instead of taking his usual position of napping in back, and he watched Barrelmaster with a very attentive eye. Occasionally, he murmured a word, or took the reins. Once he spoke sharply to the mule, and it stopped in its tracks. But in the main Cooper took the mule-drawn wagon down the mountain.
Getting to the bottom, his flannel overshirt was damp with sweat, and the gray tee under it had gotten damp and dried off twice from the sheer exertion of complete mental focus for more than two hours. Hans, who was twelve, had made it look easy. Cooper was not sure he would ever be comfortable driving a wagon along the edge of a two hundred foot cliff with six inches to spare, so he was very grateful when they got to the base of the mountain.
Wilhelm took the reins, and briskly led the wagon clattering over the narrow stone bridge to the gates of Wenbrunnen. On his way, he smiled to see two guards with polearms blocking his path.
“I do not have to bow to the guards, and I’ve guessed the time right again. The taxman, Geisler, is not here,” he boasted; but with a chill Cooper saw the pole with the hat at the end of the bridge. There was no space to turn around on the stone bridge, and so he prayed. The guards blocked their path with crossed polearms, and Wilhelm pulled his mule to the stop at the last second. His mule seemed to be of similar opinion to Wilhelm, for its ears flattened.
“I have a right to come into town to sell, and to go, as long as I pay my taxes, and I do. Now move aside.”
That was ruder than necessary, Cooper thought. He smiled placatingly at the guards. One of them was staring back at him with a look of shock on his face. Yes, it was the fellow who had first told him to bow to the hat. He might be wondering how Cooper had gotten free in the middle of the night.
“Of course, m’lord. We value your cheese. It’s just one new rule from our town’s leader.”
“What is that vicious--” Brian elbowed Wilhelm in the ribs, and whatever insult was going to come was changed to “I mean, efficient tax collector decided now?”
“Nothing much. Just that all who pass by his hat must bow to it, as a symbol of respect for the office of the tax collector and town leader of Wenbrunnen, and a symbol of the glory of Austria which rightfully rules this land and the mountains above it.” The talkative guard’s mouth curved, and his tone was smooth. “We, of course, have been detailed to make note of all who do and do not.”
Wilhelm shifted, and Brian could see his hand getting closer to the large crossbow under his feet. The shocked guard suddenly spoke, motivated by self preservation.
“We only take notes. We don’t enforce the Law here and now.’
“Is that so?” Wilhelm purred. And the talkative guard obviously suddenly realized that his chances of getting home for lunch were going to be radically improved if he nodded his head vigorously ‘yes’, so he did so. Wilhelm was a man strong in mind and body with a bold heart, and reputedly a deadly aim. Although he was shorter than Barrelmaster, Brian had passed on arm wrestling the man on the grounds of ‘why bother, I’d just lose.’ Despite facing two men in chain mail armed with polearms, he looked as if he thought he could decide to end them at will.
The two guards quickly got out of the way as Wilhelm clicked his mule into motion, and the mule was disappointed to miss an arm. Upon approaching the hat, Wilhelm rode straight on. Brian considered the issue as he rode forward. From what he understood, this might be more like standing to greet a judge in a courtroom than bowing to a god. He may have misunderstood last time.
Loyalty to a friend pushed him one way, but essentially Cooper was a law-abiding man, unless that law was against the greater Law. So he bowed to the hat, feeling ridiculous as he did so, and causing Wilhelm to chuckle. He was glad to hear the laugh as it meant Wilhelm held no ill feelings over the topic--which was reasonable, as Barrelmaster was not a Swiss patriot, but men are not always reasonable, especially when feelings are running high.
A quick dart down one road and into an alley, up another road, and into another barn brought them to the same two barnmen as before. After Wilhelm told them of the hat news, he began to unload the cheese. Barrelmaster was moving to help when suddenly he heard Wilhelm roar. Looking up, he saw Wilhelm yank someone by the tunic out of the back of the wagon. A blanket flopped free to land in the straw of the barn floor.
It was Hans. His face was a mix of panic, tears, and defiance. His father’s face held love, fear, and anger.
Boy! What have you done? he groaned.
I always come with you. You need my help, Hans protested. Wilhelm closed his eyes, and let go of the tunic. He forced himself to be calm. Looking over at Brian, he said one word: “Help.”
He began very quickly stripping the wagon of cheeses and other oddments with Brian helping him, as did Hans. Once that was done, he spoke to Barrelmaster. “Take the cart and my son back over the bridge right now. I will come later--even if I have to climb the wall and skip over the stones in the river, because I have done that before.”
What about going out the other gate? Cooper said. He thought that Geissler’s men might be waiting at the bridge and gate through which they had entered. Wilhelm paused. He snapped his fingers.
Very good. They will not expect that, and Hans can show you the trail to take to get around to our mountain, and to home. It is much longer, but safer.
Father, I’m sorry. I--
Son. Hans. It would not be so desperate were it not that Geissler has come up with a scheme to force me to choose. He finally figured out a trap, but we will get out of it, and have the last laugh back at the chalet together.
With that, Wilhelm placed Hans in the back, and tossed a blanket over him. He then held out a hand to Barrelmaster and spoke quietly. Get him home safely, don’t worry about me. Cooper nodded, and Wilhelm opened the barn door even as Cooper began to guide the mule cart out. Instead of left back toward the entrance gate, they went right, and at the next intersection right, then left on the main street, and although the guards at the gate gave him some strange looks, he passed out without problem.
Moving through flat countryside with cows, he got half a mile from the town before he told Hans to come up front. The boy did, and his face was worried, but as he told Barrelmaster, his father was the smartest man in all the mountain district and the valleys below. They took a wide curving route, changing tracks to go around Wenbrunen and back toward home. It was not efficient, and they often went right, then left, and even once, back a bit, but the path was getting them there.
Getting closer to the mountain in the late afternoon, Cooper saw two men leap out of the brush. Both were dressed in the black eagle tunic of Geissler’s or Wenbrunnen’s troops, Brian was not sure which, and had polearms.
Surrender! one demanded. They had been waiting for him. Perhaps it would have been wiser to chance the entrance gate, and go straight up the mountain road. Ordinarily, Brian was a very law abiding man, but he had put some facts together. Wilhelm’s cheese-making building had burned down last year in the middle of the night, which was odd. Geisler had ordered a man crippled for non payment of taxes. Brian knew he could not let the two have Hans.
“Herrs,” he said as gently as he could, and continuing in German, I do not want to do this, but I have to ask you to stand aside, or this may come to violence.
Really? One demanded, waving his polearm.
Brian leapt off the seat, and stood to his full height pulling out his walking stick. He was more than a head taller than either of them.
We have chain mail and polearms, and there are two of us.
I have God on my side, Barrelmaster said. His spirit was calm. He might die here. He might not. Both of his two opponents undoubtedly were used to others being afraid of them, but this strange man looked utterly calm, even kindly as he held his sturdy walking stick ready to fight.
We have already captured Wilhelm Tell.
You captured me, but God let me out of your prison, Barrelmaster replied serenely. All three heard a scramble behind him, and Hans was off running across the fields toward Wenbrunnen. Fifty yards away, he turned back and yelled.
“I am sorry. I have to rescue my father.” Despite Brian’s calls to come back, the boy shook his head, and ran on. Barrelmaster turned toward the duo, and sighed.
Without a duty to protect the boy, I suppose my duty is now to surrender. So saying, he put the walking stick into the back of the cart. The astonished guards bound his wrists roughly and quickly, taking no chances that he would change his mind. When one of the guards came too close to the mule, it suddenly took a large bite out of his butt. Spinning about, his screaming set the mule off, and it charged away, sending a wheel over the other guard’s foot. Brian stared as the mule went over the next low hill in the road, and he got bashed a bit by both injured guards. With that, he began his walk toward Wenbrunnen, wondering what God had planned for the occasion, reminding himself that even as humanly it looked like he had utterly failed to save Wilhelm’s boy, he and the boy and Wilhelm were all in Sovereign Hands. So it was with good spirits he walked along singing songs of praise, his hands bound by rope, attended by two cursing and injured guards. If someone, such as the farmers they passed, ignored the ropes, they would have seen what looked like a lord attended by two poor quality, even if expensively outfitted, guards who could barely keep up with the lord’s easy walking pace.
There is a behind-the-writings look at the thoughts, influences, and ideas of this chapter, along with eleven other sequential chapters of this novel, in mark Joseph "young" web log entry #503: Versers Progress. Given a moment, this link should take you directly to the section relevant to this chapter. It may contain spoilers of upcoming chapters.
As to the old stories that have long been here:
