Black Hans

By Robert Collins

It starts with a toolmaker named Hans, a trading journey, and the taking of a horse. One high-handed act by a nobleman’s servant will lead to crime, corruption, and the direct intervention of the Witch Princess Mileta. The tale of “Black Hans” will start small but engulf a kingdom.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robert Collins
• Release date: Jun 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463879337

Robert Collins

Two people with different cultural backgrounds and ethnicities met at a European and Balkan music and dance ensemble named Koroyar and their lives became intertwined, combining their gifts to continue exploring life as an avenue of creative expression. Robert Collins has a Bachelor of Arts in Anthropology, and has been an educator in the Los Angeles area for thirty years. He studied writing with Joan Oppenheimer in San Diego, with Cork Millner privately, and also in the Santa Barbara Writer's Conferences. Elizabeth Herrera Sabido, at the age of sixteen years, began working as a secretary at the Secretaria de Industria y Comercio in Mexico City where she was born, then she was an educator for twenty-six years, and a teacher of international dance for The Los Angeles Unified School District. She has also studied Traditional Chinese Medicine, and is a Reiki Master Teacher. Attracted by the Unknown, the Forces of the Universe, and the human psyche, during their lives they have studied several different philosophies. Elizabeth has been involved with various religions, Asian studies, and Gnosticism with SamaelAun Weor, and Robert has explored spiritual healing practices in Mexico, and studied with Carlos Castaneda's Cleargreen and Tensegrity. Elizabeth and Robert start their day at four-thirty in the morning. They enjoy playing volleyball and tennis, and in the afternoons play music, alternating between seven different instruments each. Their philosophy of Personal Evolution has led them to explore over 110 countries between the two of them such as Japan, Nepal, Egypt, Bosnia- Herzegovina, the Philippines, Turkey,Russia, etc.

Book preview

BLACK HANS

A Witch Queen Story

by

Robert Collins

Ebook Edition

Copyright © 2020 by Robert Collins

License Notes, eBook edition

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

About the Author

CHAPTER ONE

In the town of Colnvein, in the Dukedom of Tulnheim, there lived a toolmaker named Hans. His was a common name in the Midmark Lands, but Hans the Toolmaker of Colnvein was not that common a man.

He was acclaimed throughout the dukedom as a skilled and talented maker of tools. Be they axes, saws, or any other tool that had an edge or a point to it, it was said, Hans of Colnvein was the man to see. Such a talented man earned a reputation for his intelligence, for such skill couldn’t come to a man with dull wits. Men were willing to speak with him on matters great and small.

While Hans’ mind was as sharp as his tools, he preferred to keep away from controversy and trouble. He had no use for those who might criticize the Duke for one ruling or another. He took no part in the debates over what do to about the men charging high tolls for using their ferry across the Ulmert River. He was content to be aware of these matters and to know his own mind about them. But he preferred hard work to idle talk.

His skill at crafting tools appeared at a young age. He quickly made a good enough living that he could marry a young woman of the town, Gretta. In short order they had three sons. Then came a fierce winter, snowier than any could recall in a few generations. The cold always caused sicknesses as did the wet snow. That there was much more snow than usual made the sicknesses all the worse. Two of Hans’ and Gretta’s young sons fell ill and died, then did Gretta herself.

Hans was not alone in his suffering that winter. Folk of all kinds were taken from their loved ones all over the Midmark Lands. He was a sad man throughout that winter, but when spring returned, he took to his trade as everyone else did. The memory of his loss was a wound in his heart, but he endured as was expected of him.

It took the better part of the year for his trade to return to where it was, there had been so many ill effects of that winter. His trade did return, and it grew in the years that followed. Hans was again the man everyone knew him to be. He had no interest in marrying again and building another family. He cared for his son. He cared for his neighbors and his town. He cared for those who came to buy his tools or to have the edges of tools they’d already bought sharpened. Life seemed to improve.

Then one day word came that strangers traveling to Rimi on a religious pilgrimage had chosen to fight the evil men who ran the Ulmert River ferry. No one knew what caused the fight. One rumor said the men had gotten too greedy and tried to rob the travelers. Another said the men were warriors in disguise, perhaps sent by Young King Roland himself to end their cheating ways. Yet another said that someone threw a mean insult, and it escalated from there. To the folk of the region, the cause wasn’t that important. What was important was that the ferry was no longer in operation.

For generations the Dukes of Tulnheim, on the south side of the river, had fought with the Dukes of Oderburg on the north bank. When the ferry went into operation, the Dukes ignored the complaints of their subjects about the high tolls. The men who ran the ferry were clever enough to pay taxes to both Dukes. The ferry, though it was thoroughly unsavory, kept the peace between the dukedoms.

With the ferry gone, both Dukes realized that if something weren’t done, either worse men would take over the ferry, or their subjects would demand action. If one acted without the other it might cause another war between their domains. With the help of Young King Roland, both Dukes agreed to cooperate on the construction of a bridge over the river. After a year of work the bridge was done.

As Colnvein was in the northern part of Tulnheim, Hans was aware of the bridge project. He and his neighbors thought it a good thing. Everyone told Hans that of all the men in the town with something worth trading, he should certainly cross the bridge and taken advantage of the new situation. Others had taken his tools across the river, they said, and folk in Oderburg admired the skill and craftsmanship they saw.

For his part Hans was interested. He’d done well in the nearby dukedoms. He had avoided crossing the river for fear of being charged more to use the ferry than he could afford to pay. He knew the bridge would open a new market for him. He was starting to pass on his skill and knowledge to his son. The youth would need new opportunities along with the old ones his father had earned.

The bridge had been completed late in the autumn. As soon as spring came and the weather was fit for travel, Hans decided to go north. He assembled a stock of tools for sale. He hitched both his horses to his wagon. He didn’t need both of them, but he felt that a man as skilled as he ought to show a little pride in his talent. He gathered supplies for the journey then set out for Oderburg.

A couple of days later he reached the bridge. There was nothing on the Tulnheim side, but there was a small house on the opposite bank. Enough land had been cleared in back of the house for there to be a small field. It was a rather unremarkable scene to Hans’ eyes. He urged his horses forward onto the bridge.

Partway across the bridge he saw a man come out of the house. The fellow was on the tall side of average, but had a stout build. He was dressed well enough for a man of means. He also carried a sheathed sword on his belt. Hans noticed a loaded crossbow sat by the door of the house. The man stepped into the middle of the road in front of the house. He held up his right hand, demanding that Hans stop once he was over the bridge.

Is there something wrong, my good man? Hans asked when the man approached him.

Nothing at all, good fellow, the man replied. I am Master Gunter, appointed by His Lordship, Duke Kurt, to watch over our side of the bridge.

Watch for what? Outlaws?

Them, among others. What’s your name, good fellow?

I am Master Hans of Colnvein. I’m a toolmaker by trade.

I believe I have heard of you. Welcome to Oderburg.

Thank you.

I take it you have tools in your wagon?

I do. I am making my first journey into your dukedom to see what I can sell.

Good. Then you can pay the bridge tax.

The what?

The bridge tax.

But the bridge exists.

It does, but it cost His Lordship considerable coin to pay for it. He expects men like you to pay him back.

Pay him back?

Indeed. Men like you from Tulnheim and farther south now have a chance to engage in fair trade with those of us in Oderburg.

But to trade a toll for a tax?

Gunter smiled. His Lordship is a just man, unlike the bandits who were charging a toll for their ferry. The charge for merchants is two silver, rich or poor, and for travelers, two copper. Nothing else need be taken, and I’m not going to demand your coin purse for your life.

All well and good, but two silver? Why so much?

A fine bridge like this is hardly cheap.

Why haven’t we been told of this tax before?

Gunter shrugged. That is not my trouble, Master Hans. Two silver, if you please.

If I pay you two silver, I’ll have nothing for the journey ahead of me.

If I believed every man who said that, His Lordship would have no coins to pay for soldiers, much less this bridge. Show me.

Hans glared at Gunter for a moment, then reached for his coin purse. Though he had a knife on his belt, it never occurred to him to draw it on the other man. I might have cause to slash at the fellow, he thought, but he does claim to be a hireling of the Duke of Oderburg. Such an attack, while tempting, would be nothing more than mere banditry. He pulled up his coin purse and showed the contents to the other man.

Gunter had to stand on his toes, but he nodded to Hans. Very well. He waved towards the wagon. What of some of those?

Hans shook his head. I’ll not give you any of my tools, fellow.

A few must be worth two silver.

And what would you do with them? Sell them?

It would pay the tax.

How am I supposed to earn a living on this journey if I do that? I give you a few. Then some fellow up the road tells me that because I paid the tax in tools, I can pay for my room with tools, or my beer, or stable and fodder for my horses.

You must pay something, Master Hans. That is the law. Gunter looked at the horses. You have a fine bay and a fine chestnut.

They are good work horses.

You do not need both of them for the journey, do you?

No. But I thought I should present my best appearance, this being my first time in Oderburg.

Gunter waved a hand dismissively. One will do, Master Hans.

They are worth far more than two silver each!

Gunter clapped his hand to the hilt of his sword. You will unhitch one of them and leave it in my care, Master Hans.

Or you will do what? Kill me?

I shall clout you on the head, take the both for my trouble, and let you think on what to do then.

I will want it back, Master Gunter!

Fair enough, once you pay the two silver.

Hans looked at Gunter. The man was hardly in the condition of a working fellow, much less a soldier. But it would take more mass than muscle for him to pull Hans down from the wagon, and mass he certainly had. If Hans tried to get around him, there was the crossbow by the door. If Hans turned around, he’d have a great deal of tools with few buyers, or he’d have to come back in some humiliation and pay the tax.

He let out an angry breath and climbed down from the wagon. It took him time to unhitch the bay and arrange things so that the chestnut would be in a good position to pull the wagon the rest of the way. He turned the bay over to Gunter. He warned the man to keep the horse in good condition while he was away. Gunter blandly replied that he would, and sent Hans on his way.

Hans continued north. Towards the end of the day he arrived in a village. He found the villagers friendly enough, though the few that were willing to buy kept trying to ask for a lower price than what he thought was fair. Before supper he found the village headman, a blacksmith by the name of Johan. He asked Johan if he could have a private word. Johan led him to a quiet spot at the edge of one of the fields that surrounded the village.

What do you know of the man that has that house on your side of the river? Hans asked.

Master Gunter? He’s the cousin of an important friend of His Lordship.

Is there a tax to cross the bridge into this dukedom?

There is.

How much?

A silver or two, I think. Why? Johan’s eyes narrowed. Did he charge you more than that?

Hans shook his head. No, but he took more than that. I came here with two fine horses pulling my wagon. We in Tulnheim know nothing of this tax. I hadn’t brought enough with me to pay, so the man took one of my horses.

I do not know what to say, Master Hans. It is not my duty to go over the river and tell folk there His Lordship’s business.

But is it right of this Gunter to collect in such a way? I could pay three on the way back, I’m sure of it.

That might be so, but Master Gunter’s appointment as tax collector comes from His Lordship. That means the man may act in any way he sees fit.

But to take my horse?

Was it worth two silver?

Four, at least. Three at worst.

Johan nodded. Then I see your trouble, Master Hans. You feel you paid too much.

Indeed.

Then that was your payment?

This Gunter promised to return the horse once I paid him the two silver.

Johan sighed. Then you are stuck, Master Hans. Until you pay I doubt Gunter will give you the horse back. But I know your work. It’s quite good. You should be rolling in silver, and perhaps a little gold, once you are ready to depart Oderburg. You can pay the tax, you will get the horse back, and that will be that.

Hans shook his head. That might be so, Master Johan, but it’s not a fair arrangement.

No?

No. Your Duke should have made it clear to one and all that he expects those of us who come from elsewhere to pay for that bridge. It reeks of cheating not to do so.

Johan could only shrug in response.

This is no way to open trade. Many of us thought that with the ferry ended, and the bandits who ran it dead, we would have peace and good markets for our wares. When I get back home, and tell folk in Tulnheim about this tax, I think more than a few will reconsider their decision to come up here.

There’s nothing I can do, Master Hans. I suggest you direct your complaint to His Lordship. This is his policy. I’m certain if you say it will do more harm than good, he will change it.

I hope so, Master Johan. None of us wished that damned toll replaced with another.

After that neither man had more to say to the other. Hans found a bed for the night, and the next morning he resumed his journey.

Two afternoons later Hans arrived in the town of Oderburg, the seat of the dukedom. His first priority was making arrangements for selling his tools. He contacted men that Johan and two other village headmen had told him to speak with. One agreed to give Hans space at his stall in the town market the next day. The others each inspected his tools, admired his workmanship, and said they would tell their friends that Hans was in town. One even went so far as to buy a hatchet from him.

Hans found a room for a couple of nights and a place to stable his remaining horse. After supper he sent word to Duke Kurt, the ruler of Oderburg, that he wished to speak with him. It wasn’t until the next morning that Hans got his reply. The Duke would grant him an audience the following morning.

Hans spent the day doing business. It was a slow start, but picked up speed as the sun went across the sky. By the end of the day a third of Hans’ goods had been sold. He told all he could that he’d have a late start the following morning, but he would be in town for at least two more days. That night he paid for a third night’s stay at the inn.

He found his outrage at the incident at the bridge had