The Master's Apprentice, page 54
part #1 of Faust Series
“The man?” Johann straightened up. Valentin had never mentioned this before. “What man?”
“I don’t know. He wore a black coat and he . . . he was so dark, as dark as the night. And his eyes . . . his eyes looked like they were on fire, like glowing pieces of coal. He told me there were children playing down by the river and that there was music and food. When I got there, there was no one except for the dead boy under the bridge.” Greta’s eyes looked empty and her hands shook as she stroked the dog. “Then the guards came and found that thing in my pocket. A stinking ram’s horn. They said the devil gave it to me.”
“And he probably did,” muttered Johann to himself. He shuddered.
His eyes . . . like glowing pieces of coal . . .
He, too, had seen such a man, first in Erfurt and then on the way to Hamburg. Evidently, someone had sent Greta to the dead boy on purpose, and the same man probably slipped the ram’s horn into her pocket. But why? This case was getting stranger by the day.
Johann said nothing for a while, watching Little Satan snuggle with Greta. The dog rested his head in her lap as if he’d known her forever.
“You’re not a witch,” said Johann eventually. He rose to his feet when they heard the heavy steps of the prison keeper. It was time to go. “You’re not a witch,” he repeated. “And I promise I will get you out of here.” He forced himself to smile. “Don’t forget—I’m a magician. Nothing is impossible for a magician.”
He hugged her so tightly that he felt Greta’s pounding heart under her dress. He gave her one last smile on his way out and hoped she didn’t notice the fear in his eyes.
On his way down the corridor, Johann continued to think about what Greta had just told him. A man in black with glowing red eyes had sent her to the bridge. It must have been a trick of her childish imagination, just like he once thought a scarecrow was a man on the way to Hamburg. Nature sometimes played nasty tricks on one’s mind. It would be very strange indeed if someone had wanted Greta to find the body under the bridge. Who would want an innocent girl to be arrested as a witch?
Deep in thought, Johann didn’t notice that Little Satan had run ahead. He startled when he heard wild barking and shouts in front of him. In the vaulted room at the end of the corridor, some guards were standing around the well. They were looking down the hole and laughing. Johann rushed up to the well and saw Little Satan treading water about seven paces below. It seemed he had jumped over the well’s edge and was now in danger of drowning.
“Get him out right now!” ordered Johann.
“What do I care about the mutt?” jeered one of them. “Is it my dog? Maybe you shouldn’t have brought it.”
Little Satan whined and howled pitifully.
“If you don’t, he’ll keep howling like this for hours,” said Johann, glaring at the guards. “Is that what you want?”
“The doctor’s right, damn it,” said the prison keeper from behind him. “Get the mutt out of there before the noise drives me insane.”
The guards exchanged doubtful looks, and finally one of them grasped the chain holding a bucket in the center of the well and used it to climb down. He grabbed the whimpering Little Satan by the scruff of his neck while the other guards winched him up. When the dog arrived at the top, the keeper kicked Little Satan so hard that he flew across the room. He shrieked almost like a child and huddled underneath Johann’s coat.
“Don’t ever come here with that mutt again!” snarled the keeper. “And who are you, anyhow? I’m going to make some inquiries about your person and give notice upstairs that your visits are no longer acceptable. The brat has been spoiled for long enough!”
Johann fought back the urge to shout out loud when he left the prison. He held the trembling dog in his arms and soothed him while his thoughts raced in circles. He felt certain that the prison keeper would make sure he couldn’t visit his daughter any longer. But that wasn’t important right now.
What was important was the fact that he’d found a way to get Greta out of there.
“The well.” Johann was pointing at the plan of the city hall spread out on the table before them. The three men had met sooner than usual, and Valentin and Karl could tell by Johann’s excitement that it was urgent.
“When the guard pulled Little Satan from down there, I saw a barred door in the wall of the well,” continued Johann. “I should have thought of it sooner. The well isn’t a cistern, and so the water must come from somewhere!”
“The underground passages,” murmured Valentin, studying the map. “You . . . you might be right.”
Johann looked at him impatiently. “What are you saying?”
“Large areas of the city—on the north bank of the Pegnitz, at least—have cellars,” replied Valentin slowly. “Many cellars serve to store beer, but there are also dozens of passages for the town’s water supply. I once saw a map of them at the city hall. The water flows into the city from the outside—small trickles at first, which are caught in drains and directed into channels. The streams are then directed to the various wells around town, including the Schöner Brunnen fountain on the main square.”
“And one of those passages leads directly beneath the city hall?” asked Karl skeptically.
Valentin sighed. “I don’t know, damn it! I didn’t study the map properly. They keep it closely guarded, together with the keys for the underground passages, because they don’t want it to fall into the wrong hands—an entire army might be able to enter the city that way.”
“When will you be at the city hall next?” asked Johann.
“Hmm.” Valentin thought. “The day after tomorrow. The Hospital of the Holy Ghost is bursting at the seams, and the city wants us to take on more patients. I am supposed to report the number of beds available at the command. Why?”
“Do you remember how we took a print of a key back in Heidelberg? I want you to make prints of the keys here, too. And take another look at the map—we need to find out where those passages start!”
“Even if we find the particular passage that leads below the city hall and into the well of the prison,” said Karl, “there are more guards, more doors—”
“I know that, God damn it!” shouted Johann. He thumped his fist on the table. “But it’s our only chance. It’s just the first part of a plan so far, but it’s a start.” He bit his lip. The plan was ludicrous. Karl was right. Even if they managed to get to the well, then how would they get to Greta? To his innocent daughter who had evidently been lured into a trap?
“There’s something else, too,” said Johann eventually. “Greta told me today that a man had persuaded her to go to the river, where she found the dead boy. Someone wanted her to be there. Why? Because the authorities needed a scapegoat? But then why a fourteen-year-old girl—why not a midwife or someone like that who normally gets accused of witchcraft?” He shook his head. “There are so many odd parts to this story. Why Greta? Why has she been sitting down there for so long without being tortured and without a trial? Something isn’t right, but I just can’t figure out what.”
He would have liked to pat Little Satan, because he always felt calmer when the dog sat on his lap. But Little Satan had broken a paw when the prison keeper kicked him. Johann had put the leg in a splint and given the dog a little theriac, and now the animal slept peacefully inside the room the commander had assigned to Johann and Karl.
No one said anything for a while. Eventually, Valentin cleared his throat.
“I’m going to get the keys from the city hall for us,” he said. “And I think I know the ideal time to break into the prison.” He paused. “In four days.”
“Why in four days?” asked Karl.
“It’ll be the night before the Nuremberg Schembartlauf, a carnival parade where many citizens wear masks and get drunk before the start of Lent. The guards won’t be as vigilant as usual, especially in the early hours of the morning.”
“In four days’ time.” Johann nodded. “It’s agreed.” He looked at Valentin, who was sitting hunched over at the table. “Pray that I return with Greta.”
“If you think you’re going alone, you’re mistaken,” replied Valentin. “I may be a cripple, but I’m not going to let you free Greta on your own. I’m getting the keys, so I’m coming.”
“If that is what you wish,” said Johann with a sad smile. “I can hardly tie you up here.” Deep down he was happy Valentin would be coming along. They’d need all the help they could get.
For a few moments the library was silent; somewhere outside, a solitary raven cawed. Then Karl gave a desperate chuckle.
“So . . . you’re saying you’re actually going to crawl through those dark passages? And then? Are you going to frighten off the guards with magic tricks?”
“Something like that,” said Johann, standing up. “You heard it—we still have four days. Plenty of time to make plans and preparations.”
The next few days were frenzied. Each night, Johann stood atop the spire of Saint Jakob’s Church and watched the stars, which now almost matched their position on the day of his birth. Jupiter was nearly in the same sign as the sun, but the comet hadn’t appeared yet. Could his calculations be wrong? Johann knew there could always be slight deviations, but he was all but certain that Larua would appear in the sky very soon.
Perhaps even precisely on the date of Greta’s liberation.
During the days, Johann was running about town procuring things. Most of what he needed he found with merchants on the main square or at the craftsmen’s quarter. When he wasn’t on an errand, he roamed the lanes aimlessly, thinking and pondering until his plan took shape. Outside Frauenkirche Church on the market square at midday, he watched the Männleinlaufen—with the strike of the bell, a mechanical clock moved a procession of the seven prince electors around a figure of the Holy Roman emperor high above the portal—a never-ending circle. Johann felt like he, too, was coming full circle. In contrast to his usual habits, he even prayed. He visited the famous Lorenz Church with its heavily adorned western portal, sat down in one of the rear pews, and asked God for help as soft light fell through the stained-glass windows.
Lord, I have committed many sins in my life. I mocked you and I doubted you. Please help me to free my daughter. I swear I will watch over her for the rest of my life.
He imagined Greta huddled on her cot right now, afraid and confused because Johann and Valentin weren’t visiting anymore. The Loch keeper had ensured that neither of them was allowed at the prison any longer. But Johann wanted to avoid the city hall in any case—he didn’t want anything to happen at the last moment. Another child had vanished the previous day, down by river, near the hangman’s house this time. The residents of Nuremberg were growing more upset. People whispered in the streets, and suspicions and rumors spread like a bad smell. The citizens of Nuremberg demanded a culprit—they didn’t care who, just as long as the evil in town was banished.
The uncanny atmosphere affected Johann, too. During his walks through the city he sometimes thought he was being followed. But it was probably just the masks, which were becoming a common sight in the streets in the days leading up to the carnival and which reminded him of a man with glowing red eyes.
His eyes looked like they were on fire.
On the afternoon of the fourth day, Valentin asked Johann to the library, looking agitated. Johann’s old friend went to one of the shelves and picked out a book. The book was cut out on the inside and contained a key ring with about a dozen keys. Valentin held it up triumphantly.
“Don’t ask me what it cost to have these made. And I even managed to catch another glimpse of the map with the passageways and draw up a copy from memory.”
Johann exhaled with relief. Valentin had done it! Johann hadn’t really believed it would happen; his friend always used to be so nervous. The thought that Valentin had to steal a closely guarded key ring from the city hall had caused Johann many sleepless hours—hours he spent atop the church tower with his stargazing tube, but without success. The comet he anticipated so eagerly still hadn’t arrived.
“Was it difficult to get your hands on the originals?” asked Johann.
“I . . . I caught an unobserved moment upstairs,” said Valentin hesitantly. For a brief moment Johann thought his old friend was keeping something from him.
“All that matters now is that we have the keys,” said Valentin a little too quickly. “The keys and the map. Did you get everything you needed?”
“Everything but one item. I need you to steal one more thing for me. It’s not very big, and I’ve seen it on the commander’s desk.”
Johann gave Valentin the details, and his friend nodded. “That should be fine—I carry documents to his room all the time. Although the commander is starting to get impatient. He wants to know how your investigation is coming along.”
“Tell him I’m preparing some very complicated magic that will help put an end to these murders once and for all,” replied Johann with a tired smile. “That’s not wholly false, and he is superstitious enough to buy it.” He gave Valentin a thoughtful look. “You can still decide to stay here.”
“I’m coming with you, and that’s my final word.”
“Very well,” said Johann reluctantly. He was left with the strange feeling that something was awry.
“Show me the map,” Johann asked Valentin to take his own mind off his worries. “Perhaps we’ll find a good entry point to the passages. One that’s not under constant surveillance.”
Valentin pulled out the map. “I think I’ve already found one. It’s not the nicest spot, but at least we have nothing to fear there.” He indicated a particular point on the map. “No guards, at least.”
Johann nodded. Valentin had chosen the spot well.
“It’s decided,” he said. “We’re setting out tonight. And if we fail, at least we’ll burn together.”
“Old friends, united in the flames.”
In the infinite vastness of the universe above them, a comet was hurtling along its path. It was nearing Earth like it did every seventeen years, though it couldn’t be discerned by the naked eye. The comet was trailed by a bright fiery, bushy tail.
It was the tail of Lucifer, the light bringer, causer of chaos, he who fell from the heavens. Of the spirit that denies. The gloom that brought forth light.
There was someone who couldn’t wait for this darkness to arrive.
Larua.
Not far from the command, the master closed his eyes, listening. He almost thought he could hear the rushing of the comet through the eight spheres. Then he sat down at a table and wrote messages for his crows and the raven to carry. He was gathering his followers. There were many of them, as many as the number of the beast, and their ranks were increasing.
It was the night before February 24 in the year of the Lord 1512.
A night that would change the world forever.
27
BELOW THE CLOUD-COVERED moon, three figures in dark coats hurried through the lanes of Nuremberg’s Lorenz quarter.
All three wore hoods that concealed their faces. One of the figures carried a cloth-covered crate on his back. The other two—one of whom was limping—carried heavy packs. They looked like itinerant peddlers or knife sharpeners. No one would have guessed that the cloths were hiding a laterna magica and that one of the figures was a famous doctor and magician. Johann was wearing his magnificent star cloak inside out, and it was blacker than a starless night.
Johann had given Karl the choice of coming or staying, and to his surprise the young man wanted to come. Johann felt deeply grateful. He wasn’t sure why exactly Karl wanted to help him—perhaps he still felt indebted to Johann. In any case, he was a good fellow who didn’t deserve a master who treated him as poorly as Johann had. If they came out of this business unscathed, Johann would give him back the letters and pay him handsomely.
But he struggled to believe that they would make it out unscathed.
They had left Little Satan behind at the command, hopping back and forth in Johann’s chamber with his broken foot and probably relieving himself on the floor at that very moment or chewing on the furniture and rugs. The dog had sensed that something was going on. He had been restless and howled when they closed the door.
Earlier that evening, Johann had passed several men in costumes in the streets around the main square. The people of Nuremberg eagerly anticipated the Schembartlauf procession, which would lead through the entire city the following morning. The masked men all wore the same tight-fitting white-and-red garb embroidered with licking flames. They were armed with blunt pikes and wore rings of little bells around their ankles. Their faces were hidden behind smooth masks that made them look like varnished puppets.
“The timing for our plan couldn’t be better,” whispered Valentin to Johann and Karl as they made their way through the dark lanes. “Tomorrow, dozens of those dressed-up jesters will dance through the streets—it’s an old tradition.”
“Are they all hired jugglers?” asked Karl.
“Oh, no! Many of those masks are hiding the faces of wealthy patricians. They’re all from respectable, influential Nuremberg families.” Valentin smiled grimly. “I heard that this year, the hell is going to be an elephant—you know, one of those long-nosed monsters from beyond the sea.”
“The hell?” asked Johann.
“That’s what the Schembart runners call a huge wagon that, at the end of the procession, is stormed by the crowds outside city hall in a mock battle. People sometimes get hurt or even killed. Like I said—it’s a raucous affair.”
A door banged, and someone gave a shrill laugh. Johann looked around suspiciously and saw one of the costumed men dance across the lane and vanish in the darkness of a doorway. A second, younger man with a pike went after him, giggled girlishly, and took a mock bow in their direction. Then he, too, was swallowed up by the dark of night. Only the jangling of their little bells could be heard for a while longer, like the cackling of kobolds. Not for the first time Johann wondered whether it wasn’t those masked men who had brought back his old fear of being followed these last few days. He felt for the knife that—after lengthy deliberation—he had decided to bring. The accursed knife! He was wearing it on a thin string around his neck like he used to, ready to rip it off and throw it at any moment. He didn’t like it, but he knew it was the weapon he could handle the best, especially in narrow corridors and prison cells. He had given Karl the pistol and the sword, but he doubted the student was much good as a fighter.
