windows set high in the walls. Snow billowed over the floor when Cornelius discovered that the glass was missing from all these windows and he packed them full with snow again to keep out the wind. There were no coals in the bin nor split wood in the rack, but Voltemont broke apart an oak table and built a fire in the central oven.
One of Tycho’s Italian architects had designed a clever system of pipes to bring water from a nearby spring to the castle and he had installed in almost every room a tap for fresh water, the copper spigots cast in marvelous shapes of Neptune and Venus, of dolphins and carp. This copper piping and all of the taps had been ripped out of the kitchen walls and taken away. I would find out later that islanders had stolen Tycho’s amazing aqueduct works from every room in his house. Voltemont boiled snow down into water and we dined on a hasty pottage with dried fruits and dark bread and then drank from Cornelius’s jar of wine. The kitchen was large and drafty but eventually warmed up, and we hung our cloaks on pegs and even pulled our boots off and sat them on the brick lip of the oven to dry.
“Why cannot these labors be delayed until springtime?” Cornelius asked. “This weather is a misery, and this house is ready to collapse upon us.”
“The king commands it,” I said. This was not true, for he had not told me to begin the task immediately. It was Captain Marcellus’s idea that I should be kept away from Ulfeldt until the war party returned from Copenhagen. Marcellus thought me such an idiot that I would reveal my intentions to any who observed me. That Marcellus had declared himself my ally did not go far in making me fond of him.
“The worst of winter is not even upon us,” Voltemont said. “January can freeze the very blood in a man’s heart.”
“We will not be here in January,” I said. “But I have endured many winters in this latitude.”
“Ah, yes. You are a son of Elsinore.”
“I am.”
“So are we,” Cornelius said, punching Voltemont’s shoulder. “And as the three of us are so neighbored in age and origin, you ought to treat us more kindly, Soren.”
“On Hven, I am your master.”
“I see. My mother is a baker, and you will have eaten her bread your entire youth. The very bread I also ate. But as a man, you are my better, are you? Soldiers such as I did guard Elsinore’s walls while you played in your father’s garden.”
Voltemont waved Cornelius to silence.
“My father owns the hostel in the center of Elsinore, by the market square. Do you know it? When my father is dead I shall inherit the inn and retire into that noble profession. Cornelius here will be a soldier until he dies or is cashiered. These are the honorable employments of Elsinore’s sons.”
“And fathers,” Cornelius said. “You are the mason’s son. Master Willem. Was that not your father’s name?”
“Aye.”
“Will you visit his grave? Is it not at the church here?”
“He was buried in Elsinore.” I stood and walked around the oven, to the shadows behind it.
“But he was killed on Hven, was he not?”
“Let us speak of other things.”
“It was that Brahe’s fault, was it not?”
“Nay, it was not.”
“Indeed, sir. It was. We have all heard how he—”
“Enough on this.” I would not discuss Tycho with these buffoons. “I am no son of Elsinore,” I said.
Cornelius nodded.
“You are an educated man.”
“University of Wittendon,” Voltemont said.
“Wittenberg,” I corrected him.
“A son of Germany,” Cornelius said. “No longer a son of Elsinore. Well. Do you think, son of Wittendon, that you can encamp yourself in this frozen and snow-filled monument, clear the wreckage, build your own fires, and cook your meals? With neither Voltemont’s assistance nor my own? I dare say you’d not last the night, sir.”
“Do you threaten me?”
“Nay, sir. I but point you to the obvious. Your trunks are much smaller than ours, and I wonder if you have food in them, or only parchment, ink, and books.”
“Yes,” I said, and sat with them before the open oven. “I cannot survive without you fellows. Therefore let we three sons of Elsinore all be friends, not master and servants. Your hands, good sirs. And more of that wine, good Cornelius.”
This speech pleased them, and I was relieved. I am a small man, and I cannot wield an axe to break up wood for