The Apothecary's Secret

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by Johanna Geiges


  She submerged herself wholly again. It could not be a sin, could it, even as a woman, to entertain thoughts of freedom and a life worth living? When she resurfaced she felt her tonsured head and noticed that a few hairs were sprouting. They felt good, signalling a new beginning, the start of her new life, and she was almost exuberantly pleased. Never again would she shave her head. No, it could not be a sin to live life according to one’s own ideas, even as a woman. ‘It is only the possibility of realising your dream that makes life worth living.’ Those were her father’s words.

  Anna decided that was how it was going to be, and nobody, she promised herself, would make her change her mind.

  Chapter IV

  Gero von Hochstaden had been dreaming. It was not the usual nightmare from which he woke confused and in a sweat when the monsters who were bullying him suddenly all had different-coloured eyes like the impudent monklet he couldn’t forget. Even though Brother Marian had jumped to his death before his eyes and drowned miserably, by his magic he could probably come back to invade Gero’s dreams and torment him.

  No, Gero was dreaming even though he was wide awake. He was lying on his bed staring at the ceiling of his bedroom.

  One day he wanted to be powerful – powerful and fearless like his uncle, Konrad von Hochstaden, who was always making history and influencing the destiny of the empire. To achieve this the archbishop was prepared to go to any extreme. Even though Staufer blood was in his veins and he had pledged eternal loyalty to the emperor – and was rewarded for it with the regalia of the empire – he had changed sides the following year supporting the Pope and the Guelphs, because Emperor Frederick II increasingly acted on his own authority, not recognising the primacy of the Pope over the crown. Pope Gregory IX had purchased Konrad von Hochstaden’s support at a considerable price, but now he was dead and so was his successor, Celestine IV. Nobody knew who the next Pope would be or when the cardinals would get together, convene a conclave and elect him. For what could be more dangerous than to challenge the great Emperor Frederick II, known as Stupor Mundi, ‘The Astonishment of the World’, who by his ideas and his way of life put himself above humankind, and even the Pope?

  Sometimes Gero wished that he understood more about how intrigue and political machinations had carried his family, and particularly his uncle, to the very top. When it came to such matters Konrad von Hochstaden was a true master. But to challenge the most powerful man in the Western World, even if that man spent most of his time at the far end of Christendom, was something Gero could not quite understand. Why wasn’t it enough for his uncle to be courted, admired, or better still, feared in his home country, the Rhineland? Here he could do as he pleased and there was nobody who would even remotely have dared to oppose him or his plans. But his uncle wanted more, much more. Perhaps what was said was true: power was addictive. Archbishop Konrad von Hochstaden had numerous connections to important men in high positions, and these he used as skilfully as a puppeteer. Lothar von Hochstaden, Gero’s father, claimed during occasional late-night beer-fuelled rantings that Konrad even made use of the Pope.

  However at the moment there was no pope. Celestine IV had been elected after an agonisingly long-drawn-out conclave. He was the vicar of Christ and head of Holy Mother Church for a full seventeen days before the Lord God called him to his eternal home, and now all of Christendom remained waiting for a successor. But following such a memorable conclave last time, it seemed that nobody was prepared to occupy the Chair of Peter at present. This disgraceful state of affairs had now lasted for more than a year, and it was becoming increasingly dangerous because the clergy had split into various factions ready to tear each other to pieces.

  A weak and ailing Church suited the Emperor very well, and Archbishop von Hochstaden did everything to use the power vacuum for his own purposes, but he never got his hands dirty in the process, of course.

  There was nothing Gero wished for more fervently than to march off with flags flying and fight for him or find some way to join his uncle’s most trusted companions. Surely that would be a different life from going out collecting overdue rent from farmers on behalf of his father, or that most soul-destroying of all duties, patrolling the county borders. This Gero could tolerate only if, accompanied by his companions Oswald and Lutz, he got to devise his own adventures.

  He had often asked his father to assign him more important tasks and he had appealed to his uncle to take him into his inner circle. His requests, however, had always been deferred, and now slowly but surely, he was losing patience. At least he had lately been allowed to ride along to Heisterbach monastery as an escort and arrange to get the unwanted monk out of the way. But that was far from enough as far as Gero was concerned.

  He was thirsty for action and secretly flirted with the idea of joining the crusaders and travelling to the Holy Land where one could still achieve fame and honour as well as forgiveness of all sins and eternal life in exchange for destroying the heathens and reconquering that country for the Church. How exciting that would be! With envy he thought of his oldest uncle, Harald von Hochstaden, whom as a young child fifteen years earlier had seen departing in splendour with his knights for the Holy Land, never to return. Perhaps he was dead; perhaps he had been crowned king in a far-away realm so splendid and beautiful that he had forgotten all about his homeland.

  While Gero lay on his bed staring at the ceiling and brooding, he sensed that something was afoot. For days now the Guelph messengers, the archbishop, his most important advisers, his father and his second uncle, Heinrich, had been conferring in a secluded room in the castle. To his intense annoyance, he was not permitted to attend.

  Did he not have everything it took to be a knight?

  Even at a young age he had been robust. He had been a wild child, playing and climbing on the battlements of the keep at the age of five even though he had been strictly forbidden to do so. Later, too, he did not know what to do with all his surplus energy.

  On turning ten, his strict uncle Heinrich had taken him under his wing, which meant that Gero received an education befitting a male offspring of the house of von Hochstaden, that is, an education with an iron fist. Gero was thoroughly schooled in the knightly virtues of self-discipline, fighting, riding and fencing, often severely punished for any failure, so that before long his only thought was how to apply his strength and skill. He was notorious throughout the land for his follies, mean pranks and frequent brawls. However, his father and uncle were proud of him and saw this behaviour as proof somehow of the efficient training which had made him the man he was.

  Ever since Archbishop Konrad had begun to expand his territory and fight his enemies not only diplomatically but also by military means, Gero reckoned that at last the time had come to prove his abilities. One day ere long, he was convinced that the chance would present itself.

  Chapter V

  Esther was helping Rebecca in the kitchen cleaning the vegetables while the maid plucked the chicken. While she was working, Esther started to think back over the many years she had spent as her brother’s housekeeper. During that time she had had to get used to the fact that Aaron did not follow his religion and its rules very closely. If his time and work permitted, he observed the Sabbath and visited the synagogue, although while there, he was likely to be tending to the little aches and pains of the other faithful, and preferred political gossip to the study of the Talmud or participation in the prayers. Because he was frequently travelling, he could not keep Kosher as strictly as prescribed. Esther and Rebecca tried to observe the holidays and associated rituals, and Aaron accepted without much argument whatever they put on the table. He was happy when candles were lit and Esther said a prayer, but whenever religious regulations were likely to hinder him either in his work, his research in the laboratory or in the treatment of patients, his priorities were clear. He believed that man and his suffering came first and religious rules later, as long as they did not get in the way. Initially Esther found it difficult to accept this
characteristic of the medicus, and in a conversation with the Rabbi of Oppenheim she complained that her brother always managed to interpret Jewish law to his benefit. But the rabbi reassured her: as long as Aaron was doing good, it was consistent with the Talmud and was also good in the eyes of the Lord.

  Over time, Esther, with her resolute nature, had learned to deal with every situation no matter how delicate with unshakable calm and composure. This was of great importance in the household of an unconventional medicus whose days were almost entirely taken up by his patients looking for advice or remedies.

  Aaron was happy to leave the responsibility for everyday affairs to her because he wanted nothing to do with them. And she had never abused his trust.

  Esther knew how to read and write and kept a record of household accounts entering every purchase she made at the market. Having consulted with Aaron, Esther collected money from the patients, and she kept an eye on Rebecca, who was kept busy looking after food, laundry and the cleanliness of the house.

  All in all they had a pleasant life, and it was Esther’s greatest worry that things would change.

  Still she couldn’t get this business with Nicholas out of her head. Esther missed the servant though, not because she secretly had had her eye on him like Rebecca did, but because in these uncertain times it was always good to have a strong man in the house whose voice and physique alone were sufficient to ensure that nobody was ill-mannered towards herself, Rebecca or the medicus.

  And now Nicholas was gone and as a replacement her brother had brought home from his long trip a new, very young famulus. Wherever did he find him, a slight little fellow, a Christian moreover, with different-coloured eyes? Besides, he was cheeky, and must have managed with his big mouth to ingratiate himself with the medicus. This would not work out in the long run. She could foresee difficulties. Christian apprentices were forbidden to work in a Jewish household. The Medicus did, of course, enjoy a privileged standing conferred on him by the emperor, but if Christian fanatics or one of his numerous detractors could accuse him of too many violations of the laws then in force, sooner or later he would be in trouble.

  When Esther raised this with her brother, he only laughed. But in the ghetto, which she and Rebecca occasionally visited, there were rumours of impending disturbances. They were only rumours, of course, but rumours that surfaced and spread again and again on the most trivial pretexts. Until now – Yahweh be praised! – they had come to nothing, but the calm was deceptive. Discontent was seething all over the empire: the Staufer emperor Frederick II did not set foot on German soil, and his son and successor designate, Conrad IV, was faced with mounting opposition from the Guelphs who, it was said, had recently been joined by the powerful Archbishop of Cologne, Konrad von Hochstaden.

  A great storm could strike the country at any time. One had to learn to expect the worst, that which every Jewish community in Europe had had to live with for generations: namely, expulsion and murder.

  There were other bad signs, too. Many nobles and ecclesiastics were seriously indebted to Jewish money lenders. Of course, starting a campaign against Jews on some flimsy excuse and inciting crowds of Christian fanatics throughout the land had always been a proven means to get rid of one’s creditors and debts.

  Rebecca, meanwhile, had prepared the chicken and started to work by the hearth. Esther found it difficult to chase away her gloomy forebodings as she finished cleaning the vegetables.

  What exactly was this famulus doing? Did he plan to spend the rest of the day wallowing in the warm tub? She decided to cast an eye secretly into the bath chamber and see what was happening.

  Esther walked around the back of the house. At the far wall of the bath chamber, there was a hatch fitted with a wooden vent through which the steam could escape. The vent could be operated from outside as well as inside, and was just about reachable.

  Wearing her wooden clogs and carrying a basket full of kitchen rubbish, Esther stepped out through the back entrance and walked along the wall to where the river reappeared from under the house until she reached the outside of the bath chamber. She threw the rubbish into the river. The rain had stopped, the air was cool and dry and the grass behind the house was still wet. The hail stones had melted, but had done considerable damage to the herb garden.

  Esther sighed and turned her attention to the real purpose of her outing, the wooden vent of the bath chamber. She turned the basket upside down and climbed onto it so that the hatch was at eye level. Then, slowly and noiselessly, she slid the vent open. What she saw immediately made her avert her gaze and close the vent. She nearly fell off the basket with the shock. She had to lean against the wall and cover her mouth to suppress a cry.

  When Anna, scented with the ointment and dressed in a new tunic eventually emerged from the bath chamber, she looked around. Nobody was there to chide her for having lain too long in the water, forgetting time and space. She walked along the corridor and furtively peered into the kitchen. Rebecca and Esther were busy preparing the meal, something was simmering in a pot over the fire and there was an enticing smell of onions, garlic and herbs. Anna was about to enter and look around when she heard Aaron call, ‘Brother Marian, are you ready?’

  She followed the voice and found Aaron in his laboratory next to the treatment room where he was busily starting to brew something. To judge by how he set to work in such a concentrated and eager fashion, he seemed to have recovered very quickly. ‘Sit down, I must talk to you,’ he said casually and without looking at her.

  Obediently Anna sat down on a chair and watched him.

  ‘Was everything to your satisfaction?’ he asked her somewhat absentmindedly.

  Anna nodded and replied: ‘Yes, it was wonderful; I feel like a new person. And your ointment really works wonders. You must tell me what ingredients you use and how you prepare it. My itch is easing off. I do not know how to thank you.’

  ‘Don’t,’ replied Aaron distractedly and sieved the steaming brew through a rough cloth into a pot before squeezing the cloth and throwing the waste into a container. He wiped his hands on a new towel and turned to Anna. He pulled up a chair and sat opposite her so closely that their knees almost touched. First he didn’t say a word but simply looked at her. At last, when Anna had started to feel uncomfortable, he said: ‘Brother Marian, I am disappointed in you.’

  The reproach hung in the air between them. Anna was irritated. At first she could not figure out what she might have done wrong and asked disconcertedly, ‘Are you not satisfied with my treatment? Did I not stitch up your wound correctly?’

  ‘No, that’s not it,’ Aaron replied touching the sutures onto which he had applied a greenish ointment. ‘If you continue thus and keep on learning you should become a really good medicus one day. You have what it takes.’

  ‘What is it then?’ Anna asked. ‘If I have upset your religious feelings it certainly was not my intention, but was solely due to my ignorance of your customs and traditions.’

  ‘No, that is not it, either. I am disappointed that you still do not trust me. Unlike you, I gave myself into your hands completely when I let myself be treated by you. Why do you not return my confidence?’

  Anna could feel the blood rising into her face, and she hated herself for not being able to hide her guilty feelings better.

  ‘I do not understand you,’ she said uncertainly.

  ‘Oh yes you do. You understand me very well,’ Aaron said. He leaned forward, took her by the shoulders and enquiringly looked into her eyes. Because she was sitting directly opposite she couldn’t avoid him and had to try and hold his gaze. ‘What are you so afraid of, Brother Marian?’ Aaron asked softly. ‘Do you fear that somebody will see right into your heart and recognise your true self? Is that it?’

  Anna’s tears welled up. She tried to blink them away but only succeeded in causing them to roll down her cheeks. Nevertheless she held his gaze and did not move.

  Aaron took a clean cloth from his pocket and gently dabbed her fac
e. ‘I do not want to make you afraid. I will not betray you no matter what you have done. I am a Jew, do not forget that. And we Jews know what it means to be hounded, persecuted and expelled. I have every sympathy for you shying away from revealing to a stranger all that weighs you down, but I have offered you the opportunity to learn from me and work as my famulus. You have accepted my offer. Therefore, we have a pact. If we are working together, we must be able to rely on each other at all times and in every situation. Always. Therefore, I do have to know who you really are. And you are not Brother Marian, am I right?’

  He looked at her unblinkingly. Eventually the dam crumbled which Anna with almost superhuman effort had erected in her innermost self since the days of her childhood. She shook her head as more tears flowed which she couldn’t and wouldn’t hold back any longer, and she was not ashamed as the whole truth spilled out. ‘I am Brother Marian. And also I am not Brother Marian.’

  ‘But who are you then?’ Aaron asked patiently.

  ‘My real name is Anna. I’m from Ahrweiler. I am a girl, and I have lived as Brother Marian among the monks at Heisterbach for more than ten years. No one was allowed to know; only my parents and Father Urban, God rest his soul, knew the truth. All these years I have been living with the fear that one day all would be revealed and that everybody who loved me and who knew my secret would be punished. But now . . . they are all dead. And it is because of me.’

  Anna began to sob uncontrollably. Aaron put his arm around her shoulders in a fatherly way and gradually she calmed down and the sobbing stopped.

  The medicus got up, took the brew he had prepared, poured it into a cup and gave it to her. ‘Drink this.’

  ‘What is it?’ Anna asked warily and smelled it.

  Aaron smiled. ‘You can’t help yourself, can you? You always want to get to the bottom of things. Well, this is a fresh brew of hops, balm and hypericum. It will calm you.’

 

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