After the passing of the epidemic, he returned to the university to obtain the real doctoral title. In the summer of 1528, he was within a hair’s breadth from the degree, so he dedicated all his time to studying. And if he did not attend lectures, he participated in autopsies, because the medical university of Montpellier had a special privilege: the local medics could anatomize the corps of executed murderers, so they could acquire a higher level of knowledge in the field of anatomy than any other students in the country, who get only theoretical education.
Michel was heading to the dissecting room, looking forward to escape into the coldness of the room away from the sultry heat, when one of his friends joined him in a hurry.
“Have you heard?” Pierre asked excitedly. “It is rumored that three new corps have arrived.”
“No, I haven’t heard that.” Michel looked at him, inquiringly. “Have the number of malefactors sentenced to death increased suddenly?”
“Not at all! These were not executed, but young girls. They have already been buried, but because some say that they went to a better world so soon one after the other, the magistracy decided upon their resurrection.
“Epidemic-suspicious cases?”
“We cannot exclude this. Anyway, it’s going to be interesting to dissect female bodies finally, because only men were among the murderers and robbers so far.”
“If you attend more courses than pubs, you wouldn’t have missed the witch last time. But there’s nothing to lose, as I see, we will get more and more such female corpses too.”
“Oh, come on! A burnt corps can never come anywhere near a fresh, show-white body…”
“Pierre! Should I be worried about your taste? Anyway, the woman last time was hardly scorched, the smoke suffocated her. The stack did not flame properly; the wood could have been wet.”
Along the walls of the dissecting room, large blocks of ice were breathing cool air. Some were already standing around the laid-out corpses on the oilcloth-covered tables, but when Michel entered, they gave way to him. All the three corpses were lying nakedly with closed eyes as if they were ashamed of their nudity. One of them had flaxen-hair and was relatively skinny. The other two were brown-haired and plumper. Their long curls rested on their shoulders, but just partly covered their breasts, and there was nothing at all to hide their laps. The professor was explaining with wide motions:
“It’s obvious that we are not facing the plague, because the characteristic dark-blue pigmentation cannot be seen on their skin. But because they were young womenfolk, it is also for sure that they didn’t die of old age. We can exclude the accident as well, because there is no sign of injury on them. It’s good that the plague didn’t pop its head up again, but I’m afraid that we’re facing a new, unknown epidemic.”
While the others were loitering around, listening to the master and gazing at the dead girls, Michel stepped to the first corps and took a close look at the body. Then, without having asked for permission, he swept the dim blonde hair aside on the shoulders, revealing the girl’s neck and chest. The others were watching him breathlessly, and the professor grew quiet as well. Michel leaned closer to the dead body, because he noticed two tiny red spots behind the left ear, three inches from each other. He went to the second, then to the third table, and swept aside the long curls in the same way. He discovered the same dots, the size of a pinprick on these bodies, but they were on the right side of the neck on the one, and on the left wrist of the other.
“I think, if I’m not mistaken if I say the death is in connection with these small wounds.” He stated contently.
“But what could this be? The bite of a giant spider?” asked Pierre.
“Maybe, yes.”
“Then the cause of death is poisoning?”
“Probably, but we cannot exclude that the animal, which caused the bite, spreads some kind of epidemic.”
“Let’s get down to the dissection, because the ice blocks melt quickly and the decay had already started before the time of resurrection,” the professor pointed to the tables. “Michel and Pierre, together with me, are going to work on the blonde; the three of you start to cut up this brown, and the rest, the other.”
The skin and soft flesh easily opened under the sharp lancets, but to their greatest surprise, there was not a single drop of blood in the girls’ bodies.
“But how could this happen? Did they dry out in the grave?” as Pierre said what all of them were thinking about.
“Where did they bring these corpses from?” asked Michel, furrowing his brow.
“From the Chateaurenard estate,” the professor was browsing the yellowish sheet of paper.
“Who is the landlord there?”
“Earl Morgan d’Angerville.”
“I think it’s going to be best if I look around there,” stated Michel.
On the following day, early in the morning, he rode out to the estate.
“I’m looking for the earl,” he said, instead of greeting when the valet opened the door.
“Who is looking for him and what is your aim?” The servant measured him up after he saw that it was not a nobleman that arrived.
“I’m Michel de Nostradame, and I’m doing epidemic research by commission of the university.”
“I’m sorry, but the lord is still asleep at this time. Come back later.”
“I’d rather wait until he wakes up.”
“As you wish,” the valet stepped back, and offered a seat to the uninvited guest in the hall.
According to the ornate wall clock, Michel had to sit there for almost two hours, but the time felt to be even more. At ten o’clock, finally, he was told that the lord is ready to welcome him in the library room.
Stepping into the room, he was surprised how great a collection the earl has. The room was at least twice as big as the usual baronial libraries, and the shelves full of books, were also lining up so densely that Michel felt himself in a labyrinth without an exit. He wonderingly carried his look around when the earl silently stepped forward from behind one of the ceiling-high shelves. According to the amount of books, Michel was waiting for an old man who enriched the collection, inherited from his ancestors during his entire life. That is why he was surprised at how young the man was. He was not much older than him; he must be around thirty. His ebony hair reached his shoulders, and his thick, dark eyebrows highlighted his azure eyes even more. His sturdy jawbone and chin were bare, which was contradictory to the fashion of the era. Michel had to admit that despite his serious look, the shaven face and appealing smile gave the earl a boyish charm.
“What wind blew you here, Monsieur de Nostradame?” greeted d’Angerville. However, the distrust, hiding in the corner of the man’s eyes, did not escape Michel’s attention.
“I came from the medical university of Montpellier, and with your permission, I would like to ask you some questions because of the suspicion of an epidemic arose in the case of the three recently deceased women on your estate.”
“Go ahead, ask me your questions,” the earl pointed towards the comfortable leather armchairs, offering Michel a seat.
“In what circumstances were the corpses found?”
“They were found in the morning, lying in their beds. Just as if they were sleeping.”
“All of them in the same way?”
“As far as I know, yes.”
“Who found them?”
“The valet. He went to check why they hadn't arrived for work, because they have never indulged in such negligence before.”
“Did he notice anything strange?”
“I don’t know what you’re thinking about, but he did not report such things to me.”
“Did illness precede the ladies’ death? Did you notice some kind of physical or behavioral symptoms on them?”
“As far as I know, they weren’t attacked by a disease, but it would be useful to ask the other servants about this as well. Obviously, you understand that I don’t follow every step of my servants wit
h close attention.”
“Of course sir. I’ll ask the others,” nodded Michel as if he finished, but then, he changed his mind. “Just one more question: we found two tiny wounds, the size of a pinprick, on all the corpses. Maybe it’s a spider bite. Did you find, by any chance, large spiders on the estate?”
“So far, we haven’t, but these animals live a relatively recluse lifestyle. They hunt at night and withdraw into the thick bushes during the day. But if we catch one, I promise, I’ll send it to you in a jar.”
“Thank you. I will not hold you up any longer then.”
“Have a nice day, and if you meet the rector, please, convey my greetings to him!”
Michel turned around and left, but he heard that the earl had not closed the library’s door behind him. An unpleasant feeling seized him while he was receding down the corridor: as if an icily glowing pair of eyes sank into his back.
Chapter 6
Red Rose of Arles
Arles, Provence – 1528 summer
Michel was ambling towards home morosely and empty-handed. Light was not shed on the mystery of the strange wounds and bloodless bodies. He interrogated the staff in vain, but he felt that there is something wrong with the d’Angerville castle. Before he set out from Montpellier to visit the earl, he asked around, but with little result. The only certain thing was that he had moved here two years ago, but nobody knew where he came from. There were corresponding opinions about the fact that the earl is a fantastic talker, has appealing manners, but it also turned out that regarding his own self, he is rather reticent and does not like speaking about himself. Michel had to admit that it was nonsense to expect more of this visit.
Arriving in Arles, he decided not to cook any longer under the steaming hot midday sun, and his stomach gave signals increasingly pretentiously too. Through the narrow streets, he led his horse towards the main square of the town. He knew an inn there, where he always had a good meal in return for a modest payment. The Ancient Olive Tree was waiting for guests with gates wide open, and it would have been hard to resist the heavenly smells meandering on the street. Michel, of course, did not even think about protesting against the appetizing dishes; while getting off his horse, he was already mentally tasting the roasted rabbit bathing in paprika sauce. However, when he tied the bridle to the wooden fence, an urging feeling rushed through his body, which forced him to glance up. The sight made such an impact on him that the rest of his senses immediately failed. His hand stopped in the air, the noise of the main square and the nearby alleys did not reach his ears, he did not smell the magnificent fragrances leaking from the inn, and he forgot the promise of the roast’s flavor as well.
A young girl was ambling along the square. The alabaster color of her angelic face was highlighted by bronze-red cascade of hair, emerald-green eyes, framed by long eyelashes, glittering under her nicely curved eyebrows and a bleak smile was playing around her beautiful lips. Her slender body was wrapped up in a soft, cherry-red dress; a sand-colored lace shawl rested on the delicate line of her shoulder. A basket swung on her arm, full of colorful rose petals.
Michel’s heart caught on fire in a flash. He did not feel like he was burning to ashes from of the sunbeams shining on his head. He was watching the unique phenomenon, and he knew that not only the girl’s glowing beauty captured him, but the mysterious power flowing from her.
“Neat woman folk, right?” The innkeeper stepped behind him.
“Amazing…” Michel slowly returned to the ground from the clouds. “Who is she?”
“She is a governess at the La Fontaines; her name is Amrita.”
“Is she married?”
“No, but don’t get high hopes. Several young men have already danced attendance on her so far, but she gave all of them the bucket. But who knows? Maybe you’re going to be the lucky one!”
She disappeared in an alley, but Michel did not move for many more minutes.
“Will the evening find you here?” asked the innkeeper. “Come, a tender rabbit is waiting for you inside! You can also taste our newest specialty, the rose cream soup. All of our guests go crazy for it!”
Michel spent the next few days practically half asleep. As much as he could, he tried to concentrate on his studies, but his thoughts always rambled to the main square of Arles and to the heavenly phenomenon. His appetite increasingly declined, and he tossed and turned sleeplessly in his bed at night. A week later, he could not take it any longer and decided: he will go back and find the girl. He has to talk to her by any means; he has to get to know her personally.
The following day was Saturday; duty did not call him to the university. He swung into the saddle and galloped to Arles. It was not hard to figure out where he can find the house of Baron La Fontaine. He settled down in the shade of a large willow on the other side of the road and waited. This time, the minutes and hours flew quickly, because he was daydreaming in the meantime. However, he was trying to remain sober in vain. His heart overcame his mind and projected images in front of his mind’s eyes, in which they were celebrating their marriage with Amrita. He could not decide whether he sees only his heart’s desire, or the future that will really come true.
Since childhood, Michel has been able to unravel the drape of the veil covering the future, and his visions proved to be true more and more frequently. First, he thought that others also have this ability, but later, he found out that it was not the case at all, he was astonished. However, slowly he accepted that if God created him to be like this, then there is certainly a reason for it, and his future-related visions became increasingly reliable. He did not tell anybody about them, because people have already been burnt for witchcraft or less.
In connection with Amrita, however, he knew nothing for sure. The images of the desired future caressed his soul in vain, because the doubt also sank its sharp claws into him and always whispered into his ear that the girl would reject him.
Michel was aware of his virtues: even if he was not the finest young man around, his appearance was pleasant, his style was distinguished and women appreciated this. His merits acquired during the plague, and his outstanding studies, suggested a bright medical career, which was also attractive in the eyes of the nubile girls. But he also knew that Amrita is not one of those maidens, she is unique. Will good manners and a promising medical career be good enough to conquer her heart?
When he caught sight of her stepping out of the gate of the house, the intense heartbeat almost restrained him from addressing her. Finally, gathering up all his strength, he stepped up to her:
“My homage to the beautiful lady! My name is Michel de Nostradame. I’m an assistant doctor in Montpellier, and I’m only a few exams away from a medical degree. Don’t take it unkindly, but I’d like to get to know you, if you don’t mind.” He bowed in front of her.
“Pleased to meet you, Monsieur de Nostradame. My name is Amrita du Bois, but obviously, you already know this. I have seen you before, haven’t I?”
“Yes, a week ago, in front of the Ancient Olive Tree,” Michel looked at her in astonishment, because he would not have imagined that she saw him at all then.
“Of course, I don’t have any opposition to getting to know such an excellent young man like you, but you must know that only friendship can be between us. It’s not you that I have an objection to; I would say the same to anybody else too” said Amrita and stood the man’s glance.
“I wouldn’t do anything against your wishes,” smiled Michel, and although the answer scalded him, the hope lived deep in his heart that she will change her mind.”
He accompanied her to the market and back, and in the meantime, they were talking. By the time they got home, Michel felt giddy that she is not only beautiful, but she also has sharp mind and pure heart.
During the summer, the young man’s visits to Arles became regular: at least twice a week, he paid homage near the La Fontaine house, but he noticed more and more despondently, that she would not let him close to her at all.
She waited for Michel the following day, as she promised. Until then, she had some time to gather strength for the conversation. Deep in her thoughts, she was hurrying towards the market when earl d’Angerville stepped in front of her from one of the narrow streets.
The Rose of Provence Page 3
