The Amber Crane by Malve von Hassell

The Amber Crane by Malve von Hassell

Author:Malve von Hassell [von Hassell, Malve]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Odyssey Books


15

To Market

“Peter.” Someone pulled on his arm. “Wake up.”

He opened his eyes. “What?” He was on the floor next to his bed.

“You were thrashing around.” Cune was staring at him. “Bad night?”

Peter sat up. His nightshirt was damp with sweat. “Sorry I woke you.”

“I was already awake. It is time to get up. In fact, you are late again. Master Nowak already called twice from downstairs.” Cune looked at him curiously. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, thanks.” Peter stood up and began to pull on his clothes. “I will be downstairs in a moment.” After Cune left the room, Peter sat down again. His thoughts raced as he remembered the Christmas trees, the music, and the water flowing in the kitchen. The images of Lioba’s world swirled in his mind. It was not real. Her world did not even exist. It was all just a dream, and yet he could still smell the boiling potatoes and the bacon with onions.

He reached into his pocket and took out the amber crane. Most of the carving was done, and the crane’s shape had emerged. Just the thin legs and the beak needed more work. He turned the amber over in his hands, rubbing it and tracing its contours. There was something about it that forced him into this other world. Maybe he would be trapped there, forced to keep fleeing west in the company of this strange girl. What if he threw the crane away and gave it back to the sea? Then he would never see Lioba again or listen to her talk. Her world had begun to dominate all his thoughts. Home and everything he knew, his family, his friends, his life as an apprentice felt blurred, fading into the background. Maybe he was losing his mind.

“Peter!” Master Nowak shouted from downstairs. He sounded impatient.

With a sigh, Peter put the amber piece back in his pocket and went downstairs.

“There you are.” In the kitchen, Master Nowak sat at the table with a ledger in front of him, checking entries. With a sigh, he closed the ledger. “I need you to come with me to the harbor. We have to take delivery of our consignment of amber.”

Mistress Nowak had left freshly baked slices of bread on the table. Peter’s mouth watered, but he did not dare test Master Nowak’s patience and pulled on his coat.

“I wish I could have gone with you to the market in Königsberg,” he said wistfully.

Master Nowak ignored him as he walked ahead of him out onto the street.

Peter followed, his head bent. For amber craftsmen, Königsberg was the center of the amber trade where amber roads from all points east and south had intersected since time immemorial. This famous Hanse town also exported grain, wood, coal ash, tar, leather, furs, linen, wax, and tallow. Just to see the harbor had to be amazing.

Peter had studied the different types of amber until he could recite every detail in his sleep. The assortment stones were the largest and most expensive, none weighing less than 112 grams.



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