Free The Hangman's Daughter by Oliver Pötzsch, Lee Chadeayne

it. The shame of Schongau. It would be in the history books forever…
    “I hardly believe that you remember these things. And now sit down, little Schreevogl,” a soft but piercing voice said. It was clear that the owner of this voice was used to giving orders and not inclined to be toyed with by a young whippersnapper.
    At eighty-one years, Matthias Augustin was the oldest member of the council. He had ruled the wagon drivers of Schongau for decades. Meanwhile he was nearly blind, but his word was still heeded in the town. Together with the Semers, the Püchners, the Holzhofers, and the Schreevogls, he belonged to the innermost circle of power.
    The old man’s eyes were focused on a point in the distance. He seemed to be looking right into the past.
    “ I can remember,” he murmured. The room had fallen dead silent. “I was a small boy then. But I know how the fires burned. I can still smell the flesh. Dozens died at the stake in that nasty trial, innocent people too. No one trusted anyone anymore. Believe me, I don’t want to see that again. And that’s why the Stechlin woman must confess.”
    Young Schreevogl had resumed his seat. At Augustin’s last words, he sucked the air noisily through his teeth.
    “She has to confess,” Augustin continued, “because a rumor is like smoke. It will spread, it will seep through closed doors and latched shutters, and in the end the whole town will smell of it. Let us put an end to the whole matter as soon as we can.”
    Burgomaster Semer nodded, and the other members of the inner council murmured in agreement.
    “He’s right.” Johann Püchner leaned back in his chair. His mill had been razed to the ground when the Swedes ransacked the town, and only recently had it risen again in its old splendor. “We have to keep the people calm. I was at the raft landing last night. There is a lot of unrest there.”
    “That’s right. I talked with my men yesterday as well.” Matthias Holzhofer was another powerful merchant who had rafts that traveled all the way to the Black Sea. He played with the cuffs on his doublet as he was thinking aloud. “But they rather suspect the Augsburg raftsmen. After all, old Grimmer liked to pick a quarrel with them. They might want to harm us, to scare the people, so that they don’t land at our rafting place anymore.”
    “Then the Stechlin woman has saved her head, and your whole nice plan is ruined,” Jakob Schreevogl put in. He was sitting at the table with his arms crossed.
    One of the commoners along the wall cleared his throat. It rarely happened that one of those men spoke in assembly. It was old Pogner, deputy of the grocers’ guild, who murmured, “There has been a brawl between Grimmer and a few of the Augsburg carters. I was present in the Stern myself when it happened.”
    Burgomaster Semer felt that his honor as an innkeeper was at stake.
    “There are no brawls in my inn,” he said soothingly. “There may have been a small quarrel, that’s all.”
    “A small quarrel?” Now Pogner came to life. “Ask your Resl, she was there. They pretty much smashed one another’s noses, they did. The blood was streaming across the tables. And one of the Augsburgers got such a licking from Grimmer that he still can hardly walk. And he cursed him as he was getting away. I think they want to take revenge, that’s what I think.”
    “Nonsense.” Matthias Augustin, almost blind, shook his head. “You can say a lot about the Augsburgers, but murder…I don’t think they’d go that far. Stick with the Stechlin woman, and act fast before hell breaks loose here.”
    “I have given the order to start with the questioning tomorrow,” Lechner said. “The executioner will show the midwife the instruments of torture. In a week or less the matter will be taken care of.” He looked up to the carved pinewood ceiling. Reliefs of scrolls indicated that laws were made in this hall.
    “Mustn’t we consult the Elector’s secretary in a case