The Apothecary's Secret

by Johanna Geiges

  The chaplain paused.

  ‘Well then. Do you repent of your sins, my son?’

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  ‘With all your heart?’

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  ‘Then say the Lord’s Prayer and go in peace. Ego te absolvo a peccatis tuis in nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti. Amen.’ The chaplain made the sign of the cross.

  ‘Amen,’ Gero repeated and stayed to recite the Our Father, which he did very fast for reasons of time rather than repentance. Then, unseen, he followed the chaplain to the sacristy.

  Some time later, Gero cheerfully emerged from the sacristy, bursting with pride. This is surely good news for Uncle, he thought triumphantly. His plan had worked out. The castle chaplain could hardly wait to tell him how the count, secretly and ignoring every Church commandment, had called in a Jewish medicus and his witch to practise their witchcraft at the birth of his son. But it got even better: a delegation of the city’s barbers came to see the count to complain about the serious damage done to their business by this Jewish medicus and his little witch, because ever more sick people preferred to go to the two charlatans outside the city walls for treatment. The count dismissed the barbers saying that it wasn’t for him to tell a sick person whom they should go to for treatment.

  Henceforth Gero would visit the chaplain more often for news, as these latest developments seemed of the greatest importance. Though in what way they might help the Guelph cause Gero would leave his uncle to decide. The archbishop would know which instrument of torture to use on the count of Landskron to bring him down. At last Gero had the feeling that he was ahead of the game.

  Chapter XVII

  A few days after the countess had recovered from her fever and had taken her first faltering steps, Anna set off again to visit her patient. As she passed the wide meadow below the castle she noticed that the Staufer soldiers were breaking camp and loading everything onto their carts. The castle, too, was teeming like an anthill. The weather had turned very oppressive and Anna noticed the soldiers’ garb stained with sweat.

  After she had treated the countess in her pleasantly cool bed chamber, Ottgild asked her to remain behind.

  Suddenly the door opened and Count Georg announced that the king wanted to pay his respects to the countess in person. The nurse had just brought in the baby and the countess was holding him in her arms.

  To Anna’s surprise, Conrad came into the bed chamber accompanied by Chassim von Greifenklau. Beside the youthful and awkward young king, Chassim in his red cape, embroidered doublet and girt with his sword seemed even more noble than Anna had remembered.

  Conrad addressed the countess immediately: ‘Honourable countess, I am delighted that you and your son are well again. But the time has come to say farewell and for me to continue my circuit of visitations. I thank you, also in the name of my father, the emperor, for your hospitality and for your loyalty to the house of Staufer. I am greatly indebted to you and regret that I will not now be able to attend the christening of your son. Please accept this gift as a token of my great respect and high regard.’

  He signed to Chassim who stepped forward with a little casket in his hand which he opened and solemnly presented. It contained a silver bangle set with precious stones. Ottgild handed the baby to the nurse, reached for the bangle which was resting on black velvet and looked at it admiringly.

  ‘It is magnificent. May I put it on?’ she asked.

  The king replied: ‘Please do so. It is yours.’

  Carefully Ottgild took the bangle and slipped it over her wrist.

  All watched the countess as she happily caressed the precious object and then looked up at the young king.

  ‘Your majesty,’ she said, ‘I thank you and I wish with all my heart that you may succeed in your great endeavour of unifying the realm. In this we, my husband and I, will do everything to support you.’

  At these last words she looked at her husband, the count, who nodded.

  The young king stepped forward towards the bed and on bended knee took the hand of the countess somewhat awkwardly – but all the more sincerely for it – and kissed it. Then, with a conspiratorial glance at Anna, he smiled briefly and, preceded by Chassim, left the room.

  From a window at the very top of the keep, Anna watched as the royal party, in contrast to its arrival, quietly left, heading down towards the Rhine. The horsemen and foot soldiers had already packed the weapons and camping supplies onto the carts and they now joined the long train which moved off east along the road beneath the castle. She watched till it finally disappeared behind a forested ridge and down to the shining ribbon that was the meandering Rhine.

  Wistfully, Anna kept looking long after the last cart had been swallowed by the forest and only a thinning cloud of dust remained. Chassim had ridden with the king at the head of the entourage and she wondered whether she would ever see him again.

  As she turned to go down she noticed dark, threatening clouds building quickly on the southern horizon. She would have to move fast if she didn’t want to get caught in the approaching storm.

  On her way home to the medicus’ house, Anna reflected deeply. If only it could continue like this forever, she thought, and indulged in a little daydreaming that involved a brilliant future and Chassim. But as she inhaled the usual stench of the city and watched her step to avoid the worst of the dirt, she soon returned to reality.

  The sun disappeared behind thick black clouds and Anna suddenly felt cold. She had already reached the market square as the wind rose, her cloak billowing and the dust from the laneways whirling into her eyes. She braced herself and pulled the hood tighter round her head.

  Suddenly the wind eased as the first rain drops fell. Anna started to run with her satchel knocking against her back. The drops became bigger and bigger, and Anna stretched out her hand because something seemed strange about them. They were red: red rain drops. Anna stopped abruptly and saw that a few other people had stopped because of the red drops and were staring up at the low cloud that by now had spread, covering the whole city. The cloud layer had a sinister and scary pale red hue. Suddenly the rain poured down in torrents, colouring everything red, and the faces of the people who looked up filled with fear.

  ‘It is raining blood! This is heaven’s punishment for our sinful lives!’ a grey-bearded old man shouted from the middle of the market square. ‘Repent, you sinners, repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven is nigh! This is the end of the world!’ He sank to his knees and, gazing up, lifted his hands and began the Lord’s Prayer as the red drops falling on his face made him look as if he was weeping blood.

  Anna steeled herself and hurried on.

  When at last she reached the courtyard of the medicus, out of breath and soaked to the skin, she found Esther and Rebecca standing in the door of the barn incredulously watching the strange spectacle of nature. Anna took refuge in the barn and looked at herself – her cloak was entirely covered in reddish-brown mud. She pushed back the hood and stood next to Esther and Rebecca to watch how the courtyard, the meadows and the city wall were all turning red, and even the swelling stream beneath the house ran red.

  Rebecca’s lips were moving. She was praying silently and blocked her ears as if she could not bear the sound of the torrential rain.

  Gradually the rain eased, but soon started up again all the more heavily. This time however, it was normal rain that fell quickly, washing away the reddish sandy coating that had covered everything.

  Now Aaron also came out and looked around him curiously. Then he stepped out into the rain and bent down to touch the red mud, which he rubbed between his fingers.

  ‘It rained blood like in the ten plagues that the Lord sent over the land of Egypt,’ Esther said in awe.

  ‘Nonsense,’ Aaron said. ‘It was nothing but dust that the rain cloud carried here from far away. Reddish dust, that is all.’

  ‘Dust or no dust, it is a bad omen,’ Esther replied.

  ‘Yes,’ Aaron sighed, ‘it is
a bad omen indeed. People will say that’s what it is,’ he murmured and went back into the house.

  Outside, the phenomenon was over as quickly as it had started. Some brownish foam in the river and a few puddles was all that remained of the red rain.

  Anna had dried herself off and put on a fresh tunic, when she went looking for Aaron and found him in his laboratory. He was hammering something transparent on a large stone, something about two cubits long that looked like flax. Anna had been watching him for a while when he stopped.

  ‘Do you know what this is?’ he asked.

  Anna had to guess: ‘I think you are making threads for stitching wounds.’

  ‘Precisely. These are dried animal sinews from the back of a stag, and hammering splits them into fibres. The fibres need to be combed so as to free them up from the rest of their tendon sheaths. This was the material I used to suture the countess’s inner wounds.’

  ‘What is their advantage?’ Anna wanted to know.

  ‘I believe that they are more compatible with the interior of the body than ordinary sewing thread. If you can remove the threads again, as in the case of my head wound, it is alright to use ordinary thread. But in the human interior an ordinary sewing thread would rot and cause a fever or worse. These threads prepared from animal sinews on the other hand are very strong, and being made of natural material, disintegrate in time of their own accord. I have tried this out on a soldier who had a deep gash and it worked.’

  He looked up at Anna.

  ‘Anna, I’m afraid I will have to go back to the countess again after all. The outer stitches need to be removed now and I want to do that myself. I know that you would be able to do it just as well, but on this occasion I can examine her also one last time. Please announce my visit when you visit her tomorrow and ask if the count could be present if at all possible. I need to talk to him urgently.’

  ‘Of course I will. But why don’t you just come with me tomorrow?’

  ‘I would like the visit to remain absolutely secret and for nobody at all to learn about it. There are enough tales about us doing the rounds as is. Moreover, I must see the rabbi tomorrow.’

  ‘The rabbi?’ Anna asked. ‘Is he sick?’

  ‘No. It is something to do with business,’ Aaron replied brusquely.

  ‘I understand,’ she answered even though she didn’t. But it was his business, not hers.

  She sat down beside him.

  ‘Would you teach me how to make these threads?’ she asked.

  He stood up and offered her his place. ‘Try it,’ he said simply, handed her a fine comb and watched looking over her shoulder.

  For the rest of the day they treated a seemingly never-ending stream of sick people. Aaron was as patient as ever, even though he was gripped by a strange tension that only Anna could see because she knew him so well.

  In the late afternoon, while he was working in the laboratory on a new medicine, Anna noticed him simply staring and thinking with his hands in his lap. When she coughed and cleared her throat, he pulled himself together and continued working as if nothing had happened.

  At dinner, too, he was subdued and silent. His mood, usually so serene and unshakable, had changed and become brooding, even bitter. His mood was shared by Rebecca and Esther, and Anna did not dare make conversation for fear it might be taken up wrongly. It was almost as if Aaron, his sister and Rebecca were preoccupied by something from which she was excluded. Anna suspected that she knew what the matter was. A patient in the ghetto had recounted that there had been isolated nasty incidents against Jews in Cologne. Similar stories from other cities of the realm were doing the rounds and indicated that there might be more serious attacks on Jews in the near future. It was all speculation so far, but the Jews had a keen awareness of what it meant when people began interpreting a comet in the sky or a calf born with two heads as signs that Judgement Day was imminent. Aaron had already told Anna that he did not want to be around should that time come.

  In any case, he went to the barn after dinner, supposedly to look after the horses. He never normally did this because Rebecca was responsible for the horses and the two cows, which were kept for milk. Although Anna did not mean to spy on him she cast a glance into the barn where she watched him inspect the wagon on which they had arrived together. As far as she knew he had not planned to make the long and dangerous journey to Cologne or Coblenz to replenish his medical supplies. But when Aaron began to lubricate the wheel-hubs with grease, she sneaked back into the house before she was discovered.

  The next day at the crack of dawn Anna visited the Countess of Landskron and found her in excellent spirits. She was playing with her little son who was cooing with pleasure as he stretched his little hands towards Anna. Ottgild was recovering gradually and now could walk slowly and without too much pain. The wound had healed almost completely, and Anna informed her that Aaron would soon be able to remove the stitches.

  Ottgild in her turn agreed that it was advisable to keep his visit a secret. In the meantime her husband, Count Georg, had reached a decision. The conflict with the castle chaplain should be settled as soon as possible, and so the christening of little Frederick was arranged to take place the following day. Afterwards the count would host a big party in the great hall to celebrate the event – but he would keep his meeting with the medicus.

  Anna was pensive as she crossed the inner courtyard after her visit to the countess. She had a vague feeling that something was brewing. The countess had been as cordial with her as ever and the guards treated her with the same respect as always. But there was something in the air.

  She was close to the gate in the shield wall when she noticed a figure in black standing in the middle of the gateway who seemed to be waiting for her. She could tell immediately that it was the castle chaplain. He was wearing a black cassock, his rank indicated by its purple buttons and a wide-sleeved ankle-length cape. He thrust out his trimly bearded chin and tightened his purple cincture as she approached. By the way he was standing there it was obvious that he wanted to confront her. She had no choice but to speak with him. With her head held high, she decided there and then that she was not going to let herself be intimidated by a cleric ever again.

  When she was about two steps away from him, he addressed her: ‘Are you Anna? Anna the . . .’ he hesitated deliberately, ‘. . . the medica?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said and stopped. ‘Yes, that is who I am.’

  ‘I am glad to meet you. I am the castle chaplain.’ Not offering her his hand he continued, ‘you may address me as “your reverence”.’

  Standing with his hands across his chest, fingertips touching, he surveyed her thoroughly as if she was a strange and rather disgusting insect.

  ‘You are still very young,’ he said. Anna remained silent, simply pulling back her hood which she had put up earlier out of habit. She nodded. The chaplain peered at her closely.

  ‘You have different-coloured eyes.’

  ‘It’s an anomaly, nothing special,’ she replied as serenely as possible.

  ‘Well, no, I do think that you are special,’ the chaplain said patronisingly. ‘Considering that you are called medica at such a young age . . . how old are, you may I ask?’

  ‘Twenty,’ Anna lied.

  ‘Is that not a little young for a medica? A medica needs to have long training and much experience. You can hardly tell me that you have gained such, can you?’

  Anna had no intention of letting herself be interrogated. But she didn’t simply want to walk away, nor could she. Her best defence might well be to go on the attack. Therefore she asked him: ‘Are you familiar with the First Letter of Paul to Timothy? Timothy four, verse twelve?’

  She knew immediately that she had caught the chaplain on the wrong foot and was delighted though she didn’t show it.

  ‘Do you now want to teach me the Bible?’ he croaked with suppressed anger.

  ‘No,’ she replied, ‘not at all. But in this letter Paul writes: “Let no
one despise your youth.” And in any case, the count and his wife are happy with my services.’

  ‘Would you like to tell me where you gained your knowledge?’

  ‘I am from Nuremberg and was raised there by a medicus who is related to my present medicus. He instructed me in everything that was necessary.’

  The eyes of the chaplain narrowed: ‘Are you Jewish?’

  ‘No, I am not. I was baptised. But the medicus took me into his house because my parents died young.’

  The chaplain nodded even though he did not believe her, she could tell by his face.

  ‘You are working for the Jewish medicus who is practising here in Oppenheim, is that correct?’

  ‘Yes I am.’

  ‘Is it not usual for a girl of Christian faith to live in a Jewish household?’

  ‘But there is no law against it.’

  ‘There are cities in the realm where it is forbidden, and I reckon that will soon be the case here, too.’

  ‘Medicus Aaron has the count’s special protection – and that of the emperor, I may add.’

  ‘Quite true, quite true. I have never yet seen you at Mass. And yet you have been coming and going to the castle for quite some time now. Do you not attend Holy Mass?’

  ‘Certainly I do – insofar as my duties permit. I attend Mass in Oppenheim, at St Sebastian’s.’

  ‘You must be going to confession there, too?’

  ‘Do you wish me to go to confession to you?’

  ‘Are you seeking forgiveness for your sins? I can only advise you: do not gamble with your immortal soul! If the sacrament of confession would relieve you, I am happy to be at your service and you are welcome anytime. It is my duty as a pastor to be there for every child of God. However arrogant and stubborn they may be.’