by Ellin Carsta
Madlen was speechless, her mouth hanging open. Even Otilia, who always seemed to know what to say, sat mute.
“Please, forgive me. It was not my intention to be didactic,” Franz said. “Nevertheless, if I may speak from personal experience, the burning desire to help and heal people is such that it can consume those who try to suppress it.”
Madlen felt sick, as if she had to vomit. She stared at her glass of wine. Then she jumped up. “Please excuse me,” she blurted out, dashing out of the room.
She fled from the house. After just a couple of steps, she was forced to stop in the street to throw up. When she was done, she straightened her skirt and walked on, but she was forced to stop again as nausea threatened to overcome her once more. She panted, the world spinning dizzily. She shut her eyes briefly, then ran on. Her legs seemed to take over, carrying her to the harbor, then to Agathe’s house. She was completely out of breath by the time she reached the front door. She knocked as hard as she could. Roswitha opened it, but before she could say anything, Madlen had stumbled in and collapsed onto the floor.
“My Lord, what has happened to you?” Roswitha shut and locked the door and knelt in front of her. “You’re as white as a ghost. What should I do? Should I send for the doctor? Can you stay here by yourself? Your aunt isn’t back yet. Please, Madlen, say something.”
Madlen continued to pant. “Just give me a moment.”
“Don’t you want me to fetch somebody?”
Madlen held out her hand to Roswitha. “It’s all right. I’m already better.” The maid helped her to her feet. “I’ll just lie down until Agathe and Elsbeth come back with the children.”
“I’ll prepare a brew,” Roswitha offered. “And if you’d like to tell me what happened, all you have to do is say so.”
“I don’t even know myself. All of a sudden everything felt . . . strange.” With that, she walked up the stairs and into her bedchamber, closing the door behind her.
Chapter Four
Johannes changed his horse three times and took only one short rest, during which he hastily choked down some bread and a bit of jerky and gulped down all the water in his flask. Even in the dark of night he kept his horse at a gallop. He reached Cologne the evening of the next day.
Hans, the servant who’d remained behind to tend to the large house, was surprised to see his employer again after so short a time.
“Is everything all right, my lord?” Hans asked. “Nothing happened to your family, I hope.”
Johannes laid his hand on the servant’s shoulder. “No, Hans. Everything’s all right. My wife and the children are well. They are safe at my parents’ house in Worms.”
“Thank God.” Hans saw that the horse was exhausted and soaked with sweat, but he didn’t dare ask about it. “Then allow me to take care of the horse.” He whispered soothingly to the animal as he led him into a stall in the back courtyard.
Johannes considered going to the archbishop right away but rejected the thought. It was already much too late, and he wanted his employer to be in a good mood when he went before him.
In the kitchen, Johannes sliced off a piece of ham and filled a mug with beer, which he immediately gulped down, then filled his mug again. When Hans came in, Johannes didn’t have to think twice before pouring his servant a large mug of beer, too.
“I’m tired, hungry, and thirsty. And we’re the only ones here. Sit down with me and keep me company, Hans.” Johannes lifted his mug and took a gulp. “And if I fall asleep right here in the kitchen, then do me a favor and drag me to my bedchamber.”
“I will do that, my lord.” Hans held up his mug and drank. After that, they drank four more rounds.
The next morning, every single bone in Johannes’s body hurt. His head felt so heavy that he could barely lift it, the pain showing on his face as he pushed himself out of bed. He regretted not stopping after the second mug.
Still feeling light-headed, he staggered to the washbowl and was pleased to find that Hans had filled it with fresh water the evening before. He dipped both hands in the water and splashed his face. He noticed some soap shavings lying on the narrow wooden shelf. Madlen loved to use this luxury item from time to time; she’d rub it between her fingers, savoring its wonderful smell. This normally didn’t appeal to him, but now he bent over and breathed it in. The scent reminded him of his wife, and a smile lit up his face. Oh, how he loved her. He dipped his fingers in the cool water one more time and splashed his face again. Then he picked up a towel and dried himself off. Though he always paid attention to how he dressed, today it seemed more important than ever, and so he chose his clothes carefully. When he finished dressing, he combed his hair then stepped out of his bedchamber.
“Hans,” he called as he closed the door behind him.
“Yes, my lord?” the servant called from below.
“I would like to eat something before I see the archbishop.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“And I intend to start my journey back to Worms today. Can you pick out the strongest and fastest horse for me?”
“Yes, my lord. Certainly you won’t be able to use the same horse as yesterday. I was just in the stable. He has not fully recovered yet.”
“I cannot blame him. I haven’t recovered, either.”
Johannes took his time getting to the archbishop’s office. From his work as a lawyer, he knew that one’s presentation was infinitely more important than the substance of one’s arguments. So it was of the utmost import to appear composed and confident upon his arrival, two qualities he did not feel in the least at the moment.
Johannes’s horse trotted to the archbishop’s house, where the clergyman lived when he stayed in Cologne. Two guards he knew well stood before the door; one of them stepped forward and dropped to a knee.
“God be with you, Counselor.”
“The Lord be with you,” Johannes said. “I would like to see the archbishop.”
“He’s not here, my lord. He’s in the great hall.”
“The great hall?” Friedrich seldom frequented the archbishop’s palace, as it was popularly referred to because of its magnificent architecture; its grand halls were more than two stories high and it was normally reserved for court days, celebrations, and receptions. But as far as Johannes knew, there wasn’t anything like that scheduled at present.
“Yes, my lord.”
“Good. Thank you. God protect you.” With that, he started in the opposite direction, toward the cathedral and past the market, until he finally reached the palace.
No guard blocked his way when he sought admittance at the north gate. He walked through the expansive corridors until he reached the archbishop’s office in the east wing.
Surprisingly, he’d encountered only a few other employees along his route; normally the place was abuzz with activity. None of the staff, who had known Johannes for years and had been informed about his departure, seemed surprised to see him back so soon.
Only Friedrich was surprised when his servant announced Johannes’s arrival. “Enter, my friend. You’re back much earlier than I had dared hope.”
“I wasn’t expecting to be back so soon, either,” Johannes said. “Nevertheless, it’s a relief to find you well and to see that you survived my absence these last few days.”
“Sit down. Your impression deceives you. It’s never been more important to have you here than it is today.”
“What has happened?”
“Bartholomäus is dead.”
Johannes looked at his employer incredulously. Bartholomäus was Friedrich’s vicar. He tended the affairs of the diocese and had been in the archbishop’s service for many years. Johannes knew how much Friedrich counted on and trusted this man. “What? When did he die?”
“The day after you left.”
“But he wasn’t old. He was younger than I am!” Johannes wrinkled his brow.
“The doctor said that he was probably poisoned. He had cramps, then he vomited, and, finally, he died in
excruciating pain.”
“Poisoned?”
“Yes. His servant heard him screaming, and when he saw the state his employer was in, he immediately fetched the doctor. But by that point it was too late. The good doctor was the one who suggested the possibility of poisoning.”
“Damn!” Johannes balled up his fist. “Do you have any idea who could have done this?”
“If I did, believe me, that fellow would already be dangling from the highest gallows. But I can’t understand it.” The archbishop got up and paced back and forth, hands behind his back. “We live in peace. Even the counts of Cleves keep their agreements. The people are happy.” He stopped and looked at Johannes. “If it’s true that Bartholomäus was poisoned, then his death was intended to weaken me. And by God, it has all but succeeded. But my anger will fortify me as I seek to bring the culprit to justice!”
“We must find out who’s responsible for this.”
“I’m leaving for Rome tomorrow. This trip has been planned for a long time, and my duties and contracts require that I go. Therefore, I transfer the task of solving this cowardly murder to you. You are a quick thinker with the ability to see through people’s words to their true intentions. We have no time to lose.”
“Isn’t it the sheriff’s job to find the murderer? If I get involved, he might end up feeling that his authority has been undermined.”
“I don’t care about the sheriff’s feelings,” Friedrich said indignantly. “Yes, he’ll sulk. But I need a man I can trust. And you’re it.”
Johannes rubbed his eyes.
“What’s the matter?” Friedrich asked.
“I rode back here so quickly because I’m in the middle of my own difficulties.”
“What kind of difficulties?” Friedrich walked over to his chair, sat down, and looked at Johannes in anticipation.
“It’s because of my father,” Johannes began.
“He’s ill, you already told me that. But that’s something for a physician to handle, not an attorney.”
“Not in this instance.”
“What’s happened?”
Johannes’s expression darkened. “My father is buried in debt, and my family’s reputation is ruined. There’s no merchandise left, the counting house is empty, and his creditors are demanding repayment.”
“And do you have this money?”
“Part of it, but far from all of it. I wouldn’t be able to come up with it even if I sold my house and all my possessions.”
The archbishop shook his head. “It’s not wise to sell things in desperation.” He pointed a finger at his employee in warning. “Besides, you can’t sell your house because I need you here in Cologne, and you, as legal counsel for the archbishop, need to have accommodations worthy of your stature.”
“But I can’t stay. I only came here to report the situation to you. I must make my way back to Worms today.”
“I can’t let you do that. I need you here.”
“And my family needs me there.”
Friedrich leaned forward and glared at Johannes. “I need you here,” he repeated slowly, maintaining eye contact as he spoke. “And when your archbishop gives you an order, you must obey.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Johannes whispered as he lowered his head.
“Good. Today I will send a messenger to Eckard von Dersch, the bishop of Worms, and advise him to pay off all your father’s debts in full there, after which I will reimburse him for his troubles.”
“You’ll do what?” Johannes said, eyes wide with astonishment. “I thank you, my lord. But what will we do with my father’s business? It must be rebuilt. Otherwise, I won’t be able to pay back my debt to you and soon we’ll be in the same situation as my father and his creditors are in today.”
Friedrich mulled it over briefly then called his servant, who instantly appeared at the door. “Inform Leopold that he needs to come here right now. And bring a pen and some parchment, too.”
“Yes, my lord.” The servant bowed and left the office.
“Leopold is a talented merchant who knows business like no other. For years he’s managed everything here, frequently amazing me with his acumen. He’ll take care of your father’s books so that the business will flourish once again, and your family can enjoy its usual prosperity. As soon as your father’s business shows a profit, it will be up to you to employ someone to administer its affairs. But you must agree to remain in Cologne and bring Bartholomäus’s murderer to justice. I want to see that swine strapped to the wheel.”
“Yes, my lord. I thank you.”
Friedrich waved his hand as if shooing away a fly. “Twenty-five years ago, when I took over the office of the archbishop, it was drowning in debt. It was my great-uncle who helped me by using his enormous fortune to satisfy the debt, and what once had been an arid desert blossomed into a lush green field. And we’ll do the same for your father’s business.”
There was a knock on the door.
“Enter,” said the archbishop. A young man entered. “Ah, Leopold, my good friend. I have a proposition that will most certainly appeal to you.” He explained to his subordinate what was expected of him. Leopold listened attentively, acknowledging the archbishop by nodding his head.
Johannes observed the man. He was a good head and a half shorter than Johannes was and alert, with a full head of dark hair. His body was slender, his face pale. Evidently, he’d never done a single day of physical labor his entire life.
“I’ll need three men whom I can send to the market and on merchant trips to buy and sell goods not available locally,” Leopold said. “I’ll also need four sacks of gold coins so that I can purchase a large inventory of wares.”
“Whatever you need, Leopold. And give me that.” Friedrich pointed at the quill in Leopold’s hand. “I will write a letter to the bishop of Worms to tell him to collect enough money to discharge these debts and also to support you and your undertakings without reservation.”
Leopold nodded. “Thank you, Your Holiness, for your trust and goodwill.”
Friedrich nodded. “Now go and prepare everything. We certainly don’t want our attorney to worry and thereby be distracted from properly executing his tasks here.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” Leopold bowed deeply, nodded at Johannes, and left the room.
Johannes thought he must be dreaming. With virtually no hesitation and little consideration, the archbishop had miraculously disencumbered him from the burden of his family’s financial woes. “I don’t know how to thank you, Your Grace.”
“I do. Find Bartholomäus’s murderer. And find out how the vicar was poisoned. I can almost hear my enemies scurrying down the hallways and creeping around the palace, like diseased rats. Bring them to justice, Johannes. Find out who is behind this, and then use an iron fist to crush whoever so dared to declare war on me like this. I want to hear every single bone in their bodies breaking on the wheel—each and every one.” He banged his hand on the desk so hard that Johannes flinched.
“I’ll take care of it, Your Grace.” With that, he stood up, bowed, and went to the door. “I thank you for everything. I will find this fiend, and when I do, I will gladly break every bone in his body myself. I promise you that.”
Friedrich nodded, satisfied, as his attorney left the room.
“Just a word, Counselor,” Leopold said, approaching Johannes, who’d just shut the door behind him.
He tilted his head toward the guards. “Let’s go over there.” Leopold followed him into a niche under arched windows.
Before the other man could speak, Johannes said, “I must explain to you, sir, how my father came to be in this position.”
Leopold waved his hand dismissively. “I don’t have to know anything. The archbishop gave me a job to do, and I intend to accomplish it to the utmost of my abilities.”
“Then you don’t want to know what happened?”
“No. I can’t change what’s already happened. What’s coming my way is what piques my interest. I want to
know what awaits me in Worms.”
Johannes took a deep breath. “I see that you are an honorable man and a man of action. When you arrive at my parents’ house, you will see everything for yourself very quickly. My father was once a well-known, successful merchant, an extremely wealthy man. Now he lies in bed, almost completely blind and owing a fortune to half of Worms.”
“Was it this illness that ruined his business?”
Johannes hesitated. How much truth would be enough for Leopold to assess his task? “The illness was a part of it. The other part was schnapps.”
“I understand,” Leopold said dispassionately. “So tell me, then, how angry are his creditors, and is there anyone I should keep an eye on in particular? Who is your father’s most bitter adversary, the one most likely to take advantage of his misfortune?”
Johannes thought about it briefly. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know. There used to be this old Bengalese merchant who always seemed to enjoy upstaging my father, but he has been dead for a long time, and as far as I know nobody else covets my father’s business. Quite the contrary. My father’s creditors’ only hope of getting their money back is if his business becomes successful again.”
“That’s even worse than I feared. A man who has no enemies or adversaries, who doesn’t even have a rival, won’t be taken seriously.” Leopold scratched his chin. “Well, we’ll change all that.” He patted Johannes’s arm amiably. “I’ll take care of everything. By the time we speak again, either here or in Worms, your father and your family will have enemies again. Leave it to me.” He seemed quite satisfied with this statement.
“Thank you.” Johannes paused, asking himself why he’d just expressed his gratitude to this man. Why would he want to have enemies?
