by Ellin Carsta
“As you wish.”
Cecilia and Veit had been quietly following the women’s conversation.
“Come on, you two. Let’s go.”
They said good-bye to Agathe and set off. They ambled leisurely down the streets of Heidelberg, Madlen describing the buildings to the children as they went, her childhood recollections vivid in her consciousness. Some things seemed as if they’d happened only yesterday. Others seemed to have occurred millions of years ago. Her memories of the past weren’t all good, and like always she shuddered at the thought of the time seven years ago when she’d been jailed after being unjustly accused of murder.
“Madlen?”
She stopped and turned around. She almost couldn’t believe her eyes. “Sheriff!” she exclaimed, thrilled to see her old friend.
The man approached her with arms open wide then evidently decided to be more prudent and bowed politely instead. “The bravest woman I’ve ever met. It’s wonderful to see you.”
“God bless you, Sheriff!”
“And who do we have here? Don’t tell me these are your children!”
“Yes. Veit and Cecilia.” Madlen beamed with pride.
“I would have recognized those eyes anywhere,” the sheriff said, looking at Cecilia. Then he turned to Madlen again. “I’ve thought of you quite often and wondered how you might be doing. I truly rue the day you left Heidelberg, but I can certainly understand the reasons for your departure, considering all that happened to you here.”
Madlen glanced at the children and then looked again at the sheriff. He instantly understood that his candid references to those dark times weren’t quite appropriate for the children’s ears.
“Do you know, children, that your mother is greatly admired in this city? She taught many people here about justice and righteousness.”
“Really? But our father is the attorney in our family,” Veit said.
“That may very well be, my boy. Nevertheless, your mother is a very brave woman.”
Veit had never thought about whether his mother was brave or not. She was just his mother. “I guess.” He shrugged.
“Are you here to visit your brother and father?”
Madlen was unsure whether to tell the sheriff the real reason for her visit.
“Hey, wait a minute,” he said before she had a chance to speak up. “But of course.” He slapped his palm against his forehead. “I should have known! Oh, what am I saying, I must have known . . . You’re the woman who’s attending the lectures of that doctor, the Master of Medicine. Am I right?”
Madlen nodded. “As a matter of fact, what you heard is true. How did the news get around so fast?”
“Yesterday evening, some students at the inn were talking about it. Not everyone was in favor of what you are doing. But that would never dissuade you, right?” He laughed good-naturedly. “You haven’t been in Heidelberg for years, but when you finally return you instantly become the talk of the town. Madlen, you haven’t changed one bit.”
“Is that bad?”
“Oh, no, come now, relax. How long will you be staying?”
“Not too long. Only a few days. Then we’ll be traveling back.”
“I do hope that we’ll be able to meet one more time before you go. But while I have you here: I’m having such pains right here.” He put his hand on his sternum. “I have a burning sensation, it’s like fire. Even if I drink and drink, it doesn’t improve.”
“Go to the monastery gardens and ask them for some balm. Then prepare a brew with it. It will get better immediately.”
“Is that right? I gave a traveling barber-surgeon two pieces of silver. That scoundrel told me to rub horse manure on my skin. I did it over and over again. I reeked so badly that no one would come near me. And now you’re telling me that all I need to do is prepare a brew. Oh, Madlen, if only you lived here in Heidelberg!”
Veit began to hop from one foot to the other, obviously impatient.
“It was a pleasure to see you again, Sheriff. May God protect you.”
“May the Lord bestow luck and happiness upon you.”
A warm feeling enveloped Madlen as she walked away with the children. This had been her childhood home, and she was still remembered. It was comforting to know she had not been forgotten.
Unfortunately, this glorious feeling left her when they reached her father’s cottage. She gulped, summoning her courage. The truth was, Jerg wasn’t a pleasant person. She knew from his stories that he’d been a far nicer person before Madlen’s mother died. Apparently he’d been helpful, industrious, and friendly. But Madlen had never known that man. Though she tried with all her might, she couldn’t remember him ever saying a kind word to her. And worse by far was when he’d get drunk and beat her or Kilian, though her brother had gotten more than his fair share of those beatings. But she didn’t want to think about that now. She lifted her hand and knocked on the door. No response. She knocked on the door again, this time louder.
“Father? It’s me, Madlen.” She knocked again. She didn’t dare open the door without permission, uncertain as she was of Jerg’s condition. She could only hope it wasn’t too awful. Up until now, she had done her best to introduce her children to friendly people who treated each other with respect.
“Father? Open up, please. It’s me, Madlen.”
She heard a sound from inside. Then the door popped open. Jerg stood there pantsless, wearing only a linen shirt. He reeked of alcohol and his hair stuck up wildly in all directions. The smell of human excrement nearly bowled Madlen over, making her sick to her stomach. Cecilia put her hand over her mouth and Veit pinched his nose shut.
“Madlen?” Jerg slurred. “Naturally. Who would have thought that a wench like you would turn up around here again?” He spat at Madlen’s feet.
Madlen was at a loss. She didn’t have the best memories of her father, but she hadn’t expected this greeting.
“Mother, can we please go?” Cecilia pleaded and took several steps back.
“I’ve come with my children to visit you, Father. If you are indisposed at this time, we can come back later.”
“If I’m indisposed,” he mocked. “Oh, yes, the famous healer who married a lawyer. And what about me, huh? What do I get out of it? Who asked what I wanted?”
The stench was unbearable, but the words he hurled at her were even worse. “All right . . . Well, we’re going now. If you want to, you can come visit us when you’re in better shape. We’re staying at the—”
“Better shape?” he roared. “You’ll never see me in better shape.” He stepped toward Madlen menacingly.
She pulled Veit back, took Cecilia’s hand, and stepped away from the cottage. She scrutinized her father for a split second. What in the world had she been thinking by coming here? The man was pathetic, still blaming others for his woes, the way he’d done all his life. “It was a mistake for us to come here, and there’s actually no reason for you to visit us. So, I can only say to you here and now, adieu. May God bestow happiness upon you.”
“You filthy little whore! You nasty bitch. At least give me some money, you slut!” Jerg spit.
“Let’s go, children.”
“You’re not going anywhere until you pay me for everything I gave you over all those years,” Jerg called out.
Madlen kept a firm grip on her children’s hands and didn’t turn around. She knew that she’d never make the mistake of visiting her father again.
When they got back to the hotel, Madlen summarized for Agathe what had happened. Her aunt gave her a hug and told her that she shouldn’t think about it anymore. When they went downstairs for their evening meal with Peter and Elsbeth, Madlen didn’t want to waste more than a few sentences explaining what kind of man Jerg had turned into.
“Can Ursel take us up to bed?” Cecilia asked, her eyelids drooping from exhaustion.
“Of course.” Madlen motioned for Ursel, who had just finished eating, to accompany the children upstairs.
“Now th
at the children are gone, I can say this: I’m ashamed that not too long ago, I wasn’t so far off from such behavior,” Peter said. “Agathe, excuse my openness, but it seems to me that we are all close enough that I can touch upon this sensitive topic in your presence.”
“I’m happy that you turned your life around and got back on the right path,” Agathe responded. Peter acknowledged her with a look of gratitude.
“I don’t understand how a person can behave like that,” Madlen said. “I know I don’t have the right to say anything since this is all my fault.”
“Your fault? What are you talking about?” Agathe asked.
“He was different before my mother died. During childbirth, she gave me life but sacrificed hers.”
Agathe sat up straight. “Yes, your mother died giving birth to you, but who told you that other nonsense?”
Madlen thought it over, but she couldn’t remember who’d told her that story, just that Jerg claimed over and over again how happy he’d been when Juliana was alive, before Madlen was born. They’d had wonderful years together; they’d been each other’s best friend. Madlen shrugged. “My father did.”
“What utter rubbish! Jerg was—and still is—exactly like our own father: a rotten cur who thinks only of himself. Jerg was a good carpenter, but whatever he earned he squandered at the tavern. He was better for a very short time while he was courting your mother. But after they married, he went back to his old, despicable ways. Indeed, Juliana was forced to endure a great deal after she started sharing her life with that scoundrel. And he wasn’t happy with her, because Jerg was never happy with anything or anyone. He only told you those outrageous lies to hurt you, because he enjoys hurting people. It’s the only thing he has a real passion for.”
Madlen gaped at Agathe.
“I’m sorry, my love, but somebody has to say it. I can only hope that your brother comes to his senses before he goes down the same path.”
“Kilian isn’t like that.”
“Kilian drowns his sorrows in alcohol and stays away from home so he doesn’t have to listen to his wife scold him for his despicable behavior. And you still say he isn’t like that?”
Madlen’s throat constricted, the thought of her brother turning into the same wretched person as her father making it difficult to swallow. Agathe was right. Kilian was becoming exactly like their father. But he would never admit it. “I’m going to speak to my brother.”
“Yes, do that,” Elsbeth said. “But I fear Agathe might be right, that it could soon be too late.”
Madlen looked around then stood. “Please, excuse me. I’m tired and would like to go look in on the children.”
“May the Lord watch over you, my child,” Peter said. Madlen gave him a smile then climbed the stairs, her legs leaden. She felt miserable but at the same time liberated. For years, her father had blamed her for his misery after her mother died giving birth to Madlen. But he’d lied. If Madlen’s mother were still alive, he’d have someone to curse and beat—or worse—whenever he wanted. With every step, she felt lighter, as though relieved of a heavy burden she’d carried all her life. She never wanted to see her father again.
It was only her third day at the university, but Madlen felt at home there, as if she’d never done anything else. She strolled down the cobblestone streets, her spirits high as she enjoyed the warmth of the morning sun on her face. She felt freer than she had ever felt in her life. Again, she was early. When she got to the campus, she saw a man sitting on one of the huge boulders that dotted the grounds, but paid him no mind.
“Excuse me, but is your name Madlen Goldmann?” he said when she got closer.
Madlen stopped. “God be with you, my lord. Yes, it is. Do I know you?”
He stood up. “I wish that were so, but no, we have never met. My name is Hyronimus Auerbach.”
“I’ve heard about you though we’ve never met. I believe your name was mentioned at my”—Madlen blushed, bowed her head—“trial seven years ago. You’re a doctor, right?”
“That’s correct. Would you be so kind as to give me a minute of your time?”
Madlen looked toward the lecture hall to estimate how much time she had. “Just for a moment,” she said.
“This won’t take long,” he assured her. They walked until they reached a short wall. “Would this be a good place to sit down for a spell?” the physician asked.
“Yes, certainly.” Madlen looked around. There wasn’t a soul in sight. As soon as she saw someone coming, she’d end their conversation. “What can I do for you?”
“Well, probably nothing. I would like to understand your intentions.”
“My intentions?” she repeated. “In regards to what?”
“Well, we’ve never had a woman attend the university here in Heidelberg. This is your birthplace, that much I know. I’d like to know whether you plan to use the knowledge you acquire as a physician or as a healer.”
So that’s what this was about—he was afraid she might steal away his patients. “Don’t worry. I don’t intend to remain in Heidelberg. I’ll be returning to Cologne soon with my children.”
“A pity.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Well, I’m in your debt, though you’d have no way of knowing that.”
“I believe you must be mistaken. Nobody’s in my debt, especially not someone I’m meeting for the very first time.” Madlen craned her neck to see whether any other students had arrived. She didn’t see anyone.
“Do you need to go?” the physician asked. He’d been following her gaze.
“When I see the other students arriving. Please forgive me, but I don’t want to be late.”
The doctor smiled. “You’re quite impassioned.”
At this moment, Hubertus von Megenberg walked onto the campus grounds and disappeared behind a wall as he followed the walkway into the lecture hall. Madlen became anxious. “Please, tell me what you want from me.”
“This is something that cannot be discussed in haste. Tell me, would it be possible to talk to you later, when you aren’t in such a hurry?”
Thomas came walking down the street. Madlen waved.
“If it’s that important to you, then yes, of course,” she agreed. “Please excuse me now.” She stood up. “May the Lord protect you.” Before he could reply, she hurried off. Thomas stopped and waited for Madlen. Before entering the lecture hall, she turned to look back at Hyronimus Auerbach; she felt guilty for running off. The physician waved amiably.
Madlen and Thomas headed in.
“Who was that?”
Madlen shrugged. “A doctor. His name is Hyronimus Auerbach.”
“What did he want from you?”
“I don’t really know. He was waiting for me when I got here. We’re going to talk later.”
Thomas chuckled. “You attract one doctor after another, like bees to honey.”
Madlen laughed. “Come on, we need to be ready for the venerable Master of Medicine.”
“You can hardly wait, right?”
“Right. These lectures are the most wonderful experiences of my life.” She immediately regretted her remark. “After my children,” she added hastily, “and my husband, of course.”
“And so on and so forth.” Thomas smiled, taking ahold of the doorknob. He didn’t open the door immediately. “If I, a future doctor, can give you a bit of advice: stop feeling guilty. It’s good that you’re here. It’s good that you want to learn. It doesn’t make you a bad wife or mother.”
Madlen looked at him gratefully and took a deep breath. “Your advice does me good, Doctor,” she joked, but both felt the truth of her words.
“Have you been waiting here the whole time?” Madlen gave Hyronimus Auerbach a look of surprise. She’d just exited the building and was preparing to head back to the Golden Rooster.
“Of course not. I just returned a little while ago. Do you have time to speak with me now?”
“Yes, if it’s not going to take too
long. My children are expecting me.”
“Then I’ll be sure not to keep you. If it’s all right, we can talk on the way to your accommodations.”
“Yes, that would be good.”
They strolled at a leisurely pace. “I’m happy that you found your way back to Heidelberg. Although I’m sure Cologne has more to offer you.”
“I like Cologne very much, but not because of the city itself. It’s because we have our house, our family home, there. And the people are very friendly in Cologne, very welcoming to strangers.”
“That’s the spirit of a big city renowned for commerce,” the doctor said. “May I ask how long you’ll be staying here in Heidelberg?”
“Like I said before, just a few days.”
“Do you have other commitments that would keep you from staying longer?”
Madlen glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “What exactly do you want from me, Doctor?”
“It’s about what I suggested before, Madlen. Oh, forgive me, may I call you Madlen?”
“Of course.”
“You can call me Hyronimus.”
The notion of calling someone so much older than her by his first name struck Madlen as rather odd.
“Madlen,” Hyronimus went on, “do you remember Matthias Trauenstein?”
Just hearing his name startled her.
The doctor noticed. “Of course you remember him, what a silly question! The bastard wanted to hang you from the gallows.” He took a deep breath. “For years, I served the nobles. Did you know that?”
“Yes. It was mentioned at the trial.”
“Then did you also know that it was my duty to care for his victims time and time again?”
“Yes.”
“Not an easy job, if I do say so myself. To see such injuries inflicted intentionally eats away at your very soul.” He tapped his forehead. “Everything I’ve seen is in here and will haunt me for the rest of my life. I’m in your debt because you were the one responsible for bringing Matthias Trauenstein to trial and getting him convicted for those horrendous crimes. God forgive me, but I was quite relieved when I heard of his execution.”
