Night had fallen over the meadows and the woodland. The sun had sunken behind the treetops and the cries of owls echoed over the fields of Brabant. Lieke closed the door behind her and locked it carefully. Her father had asked Hans to look after her, but he had not returned from the village yet. She carried the bucket with fire-wood into the kitchen and tossed some twigs onto the flames. Men... Except for her father none could be trusted. She guessed Hans was still at the inn, with that barmaid of his. He had forgotten about his cousin and left her all alone in this empty house.
She wouldn't cook for him, that was for certain. And as she hung the cauldron over the fire, she threw in just enough water to make some soup for herself.
It promissed to be a lonely evening, but at least the house was warm and comfortable. She had checked the chickens and repaired the roof of their house. The fox would not be succesful tonight.
She walked to the window and looked at the yard. It looked so quiet and peaceful in the pale moonlight. The business of the day was gone. The chickens were asleep and the dog was slumbering.

But what was that? Did she imagine it, or did a shadow just disappear behind the bushes? She blinked and wiped the condesation from the glass. Something moved around the fence and approached the chicken-house. She couldn't see what it was, because of the shrubs, but it was certainly alife.
Lieke looked around the kitchen for a suitable weapon. The broom? The poker? She walked to the bucket and took out a piece of wood. Then she opened the window.
Cold mist floated inside and she could hear the sounds of chirping insects, yet the shadow had disappeared. Perhaps it was her imagination after all.
She wanted to close the window again, but then she saw it again. She shouted.
" Go away you!"
But the creature did not seem to be frightened by her voice.
She tossed the log at the silhouette. She heard a thud and a groan, but instead of running away, it seemed to approach. The thing was too large to be a fox and as it stept into the moonlight, Lieke's eyes opened wide... It was a man.

For a moment she was startled, but then she felt how the blood rushed to her cheeks.
" This is not funny Hans!", she shouted, " If you want me to open the door you'd better say you're sorry, or else you can sleep with the chickens."

The shadow came closer, but still Lieke couldn't make out who the man was.
" Listen up Hans. This is not a good joke. I'm serious, unless you appologize I won't let you in."
But as the man stumbled over the yard without a word she grew worried.

" Hans? Is it you Hans? And if not, then who are you? Visitors are always welcome, but not if they stroll around this house like a burglar."

The shadow moved to the side of the house and for a moment there was silence, but then she heard him rummage around the backdoor.
What if this was indeed a burglar? Would they be that bold? She could hardly imagine it, although... She had heard stories, about this Limburgian gang. Her heart beat faster, and she felt a cold drop roll down her neck. What if this was one of those? The stories were too horrible to imagine, and what could she do to defend herself?

A goat bleated... They did not have goats! O horror. Was this not enough evidence? The goatriders were here, in her very own yard. She cursed Hans for having left her alone, although he could not have done much either. The goatriders were said to have made a pact with the devil himself. They rode on the backs of demon goats and robbed farms all over Limburg and the Kempen.
Their cruelty was beyond the wildest imagination. They tortured and murdered and left a trail of destruction wherever they came. What could she do?

How stupid she had been to shout at them. Now they knew that someone was home. They would find her and do the devil knows what. A shiver went down her spine at the thought of what she had heard.

There was a loud bang on the door. The hinges rambled and she could hear the bleating goat again.

Think Lieke, think... Where could she hide? What could she do? They would turn the place upside down and then torch it.

Once again the robber banged on the door, and this time the blow seemed so violent that she could hear the wood crack.

They would find her anyhow. But she made her decision. If they were going to get her, she would not let them have her without a fight. She walked to the fire and held the poker in the flames until the iron was glowing red. If they were going to do something to her, they would be the first to suffer.

" Open up! I know you're there!", a hoarse voice growled.

She staggered towards the backdoor, and held the poker up high. Then she unlocked it and threw it open. She closed her eyes instinctively, afraid of what she'd see, and stabbed...

The demon bandit cried as if he was burned by hell's fire itself. She heard him fall back and scream. Then she blinked. Before her the goatrider twisted and coiled in the mud, holding his right arm. A cloak covered his head and his face was pitchblack.

She raised the poker for another attack, but the demon held his good hand up.

" Lieke! Are you mad? It's me! Hans!"

She lowered her glowing weapon.

" Hans? You're a... goatrider?"
" It was just a bloody joke. Oh, God. You could have killed me. My arm. My arm!"
" And the goats? I heard a goat bleat."
" That was me, imitating a goat. I wanted to scare you. Wicked girl. How could you do that, a redhot poker!"
" Get up and come inside."

He did as she told him and Lieke closed the door behind him. She locked it carefully, but she did not see the goat that was standing in the bushes, next to the chicken-house...