A wagon was rolling along a country road. It was a simple horse and cart with a canopy, loaded with barrels. There was a driver in the front and two others under the canopy in the back. They all wore simple grey clothes, though they were by no means shabby. The sun was quite literally blistering them with its rays. The vehicle rumbled slowly over the uneven, dusty road. There wasn’t even the smallest gust of wind. Not even a single word was exchanged by the two in the back of the cart, which was partly due to the heat. But that wasn't the only reason.
The other reason was, that Wenzel wasn't very talkative by nature. Yes, one of the two was Wenzel. The other two were from the resistance fighters. Having fled from the school, because of what had happened there, the boy was now travelling with them. For him, it was as if he had had no choice. Many things were now going through his mind and the events were playing over and over again before his inner eye. So now he sat quietly and pondered. The wagon briefly got stuck on a large stone, but then overcame it, causing the entire carriage to shake wildly back and forth. The lad looked at the person opposite of him. That man had introduced himself to him as Harald and he was the one who had kidnapped him a few days ago. Now they were on the run.
Wenzel had told them that he had to leave Olemar as quickly as possible, because he was being pursued, whereupon they immediately sprang into action. Thus, they disguised themselves as wine merchants and left the town as quickly as possible, heading south. And here we were, travelling somewhere to the south. Finally, he said: "Where exactly are we going now?" Harald replied: "Cho....uh...Wenzel! We are travelling to the southern territories, where we have our headquarters. We'll introduce you to the leader there." The boy had emphatically told them to address him simply as "Wenzel", otherwise he would get angry with them. Fortunately, they now did so, or at least tried to. "But first we'll make a stopover in... what's the name of the place again? Oh, yes, Templin. I've sent a messenger for a coordinator to meet us there to discuss the next steps. It's not as if we stay in one place all the time. So, in order to know exactly where the leader and the headquarters are at the moment, we first have to "coordinate".
The boy had already understood that. But he still wondered what would happen now. What did the future hold for Wenzel? What would these religiously motivated resistance fighters actually be like? What would become of Peter or Amalie? How would his "parents" react when they learnt of Aurel's fate? Questions upon questions for him to contemplate during the long journey. But it was a very strenuous journey in a carriage, where you could feel every pebble that was passed over, and in scorching heat to boot!
But Wenzel was not the only one suffering from the heat. On their journey, they kept passing farmers, woodcutters and other people going about their work. The lad saw how they were harvesting and threshing the grain in these inhumane temperatures. He also noticed how many of them were thin and famished. Wenzel would often sit down next to the driver to get a better view of the area and the people they were passing. He often saw men only wearing rags, with worn, almost leathery skin, languishing under the sun. That he had never seen before. "What a hard life," it went through his head. Nevertheless, Wenzel was absolutely fascinated by the nature of his home country. While travelling, he constantly gazed out over the vast fields. The mountains in the far distance grew ever closer. For the first time, the boy saw more of the country.
Several days later they reached Templin or, to be precise, a small, wooded area outside the village. As they approached, they saw a person wearing a hood - in this weather! - sitting on a tree trunk. The vehicle stopped. They all got out at once, glad to be able to stretch their legs after a long ride. And that was indeed the first thing the men did. But then they immediately went over to the person who received them. She took the hood off her head and revealed her brown, curly hair, which she had tied up in a bun. Wenzel also approached. The lady had very gentle features and could definitely be described as a beautiful woman. "Praise the martyrs!" everyone proclaimed. This seemed to be their standard greeting. Then the woman made a strange handshake with Harald. It was probably a secret handshake for the group to be able to identify each other.
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Satisfied, she then turned her gaze to Wenzel. "So, that's him?" she asked the two men. "Yes," they promptly replied. In a way that was almost funny to Wenzel, she tilted her head to the side and looked at the boy closely, almost as if she wanted to recognise something about his appearance. She came closer to him and looked him in the eye. Then she spoke: "My name is Irnfrid. Nice to meet you!" - "My name is Wenzel. The pleasure’s all mine," he answered.
"So, you can work miracles? You know, do things that nobody else can, things that are actually impossible?" Wenzel nodded. She just looked at him, not in an angry way, but rather in an interested, curious way. It suddenly occurred to the boy that she probably wanted a demonstration of what he could do. She wanted proof that he really was a magician. "Well then," Wenzel thought. He lifted himself off the ground, floated up to the branches of the tall trees and landed on a branch. Amazement, but above all joy, was written all over her face. Wenzel jumped down again and continued: "I also frequently see the future in my dreams. But I have no idea how I could show that." The woman patted her heart thrice in succession with her right hand, a religious gesture that Wenzel was familiar with. Then she said quietly to herself: "Praise be to the Lord!"
Irnfrid joined the group. She would guide them to the leader of the Martyrs’ Brigades. But first they would take a break. They unpacked the food they had brought with them, which was basically just bread and cheese, and sat down for a snack. Wenzel was, of course, allowed to eat as much as he wanted. But he held back as he could see how little they had in total.
"Recruitment has been going reasonably well this month," began the man, whose name Wenzel had already forgotten. "Ten people in total. That's quite respectable." The woman replied: "That's all well and all, but I think you're underestimating the fact that this is still only the beginning, even though we've been growing like this for many years. All the conditions are met and now this. God has given us the greatest possible gift!" Wenzel knew that they were referring to him.
Generally, Wenzel just sat there the whole time, but didn't talk to them. He didn't know these people. Above all, however, all his thoughts were still haunted by everything that had happened at school. After a while, Irnfrid poked him on the upper arm and asked: "Is everything alright? Do you need anything, Chosen One?" Wenzel couldn't stand that at all. "Everything's fine with me, thank you! But I would like to ask one thing of you. Please just call me Wenzel, okay? I really can't understand all that talk about the 'Chosen One'. I'm Wenzel. Just Wenzel, okay?"
The lady looked at him in confusion and then exchanged glances with the other two men. They didn't quite seem to know how to deal with the situation either and just gestured something incomprehensible. Then, without further ado, she said: "Sure thing, Wenzel." To reassure her, Wenzel added: "I want us to be friends. And friends call each other by their first names." Hearing that, she then gave him a broad grin.
Still, the boy was somewhat alienated by them. He knew that he was special and that someone like that would definitely fascinate people. However, he didn't understand why this group always addressed him as the Chosen One. Were these people so indoctrinated and out of touch with reality, that they immediately made a messiah out of anyone who knew magic? The boy was slightly unsettled, but he was also sure that they would pose no danger to him.
They finished their meal, rested a little longer and then finally set off again. The three then hitched Irnfrid's horse to the other one on the wagon and then all got in. No one would drink from the wine barrels on board, by the way, as it would be suspicious if someone stopped them and the goods they wanted to "sell" were only half there. This time Irnfrid took the reins. And so the journey continued.
