The Apothecary's Secret

by Johanna Geiges

  One day Berbelin rushed home to get dinner ready while Anna and Brother Thomas walked home by the fields outside the city walls until they reached the path that led up to the castle. It was a hot summer’s day without a single cloud in the sky, and in the meadow below Landskron Castle, arrangements were being made for the count’s great tournament.

  Many onlookers had assembled to watch the goings-on. Tents and stands for spectators were being put up. The first guests were arriving with their horses and entourage accompanied by squads of mounted soldiers. Everybody was splendidly turned out and in great humour. Equipment and construction materials were being unloaded from heavy carts and orders were being shouted as children scurried around excitedly, admiring the noble lords and their suits of armour that were on display outside the tents, testifying to the power and wealth of their owners. Many of the tents had been made especially for this tournament. A goodly number of those in the front row belonged to the aristocracy of the highest rank and were made of costly oriental silk, richly embroidered and inwrought with golden and silver threads. But the plainer tents also attested to the rank of their owners, decorated as they were with their coats of arms and heraldic ornaments.

  Anna and Brother Thomas sat down in the shadow of a large beech tree to watch the colourful events for a while. To Anna’s surprise, Brother Thomas opened his bag and took out a large white cloth, which he spread on the ground. On it he put his ‘basic victuals’ as he called them: bread, cheese and ham along with a bulging wineskin; he even brought two clay cups. With his sharp knife he cut off generous slices of bread and put some ham and cheese on one, which he handed to Anna. They sat there quietly eating and drinking. After a while the monk hesitantly began to speak.

  ‘Medica,’ he asked cautiously, ‘Medica, may I ask you a question?’

  Anna was watching the workmen and their many helpers as they erected the grandstand and put up fluttering pennants outside the knights’ tents. She heard the sawing, hammering and shouts of encouragement and thought of the tournament to come and of Chassim, the enthusiastic jouster. She wondered whether she might ever see him again and whether he would notice her . . . She sighed inwardly, the strong wine and the midday heat adding to her melancholy mood.

  She had heard her companion’s question as if from a great distance and turned to look at him.

  ‘Please forgive me, I was lost in thought. Did you want to ask me something, Brother Thomas?’ she said, holding out her cup.

  He filled it from the skin and nodded. ‘Yes, there is something I’ve been meaning to ask you for a long time. But, to be honest, I did not dare because it seemed too . . . well, too personal. And as we didn’t know each other that well yet . . .’

  ‘You are certainly making me curious, Brother Thomas. Well then, ask your question.’

  ‘Who are you really, medica?’ he asked finally.

  Having taken a sip of the delicious wine, Anna started to tell him her story, and she was glad and relieved to have someone at last in whom she could confide.

  When she had finished her tale – though without revealing her feelings for Chassim – they were both silent for a while, occupied with their own thoughts. After he had taken a few generous swallows of wine, Brother Thomas said: ‘And I had always thought that God had subjected me to some particularly hard trials. But compared to your experiences mine are but trivialities. What will we do now?’

  She smiled. ‘What will we do? We won’t turn all morose, but we will go home and continue as usual. What else is there to do?’

  He looked at her and nodded. ‘Yes, you are right. That is the only option left to us. Let’s keep on going.’

  He got up and they collected the leftovers, and when they had put everything back into the bag, they headed for home.

  Chapter VIII

  Anna and Brother Thomas were wandering casually between the colourful tents back to the city when Anna suddenly stopped. She had discovered a tent with blue and white stripes in the second row with a coat of arms with she knew all too well: a black griffin’s claw on a golden background, the arms of the von Greifenklaus. Brother Thomas, who had walked on ahead a few steps, stopped and waited for her.

  ‘Go on ahead,’ she called after him as casually as possible. ‘I just have some business to attend to.’

  Anna waited until he had disappeared in the crowd before wandering like all the other onlookers between the rows of tents, where she pretended to take an interest in the armour and the emblazoned shields. But really she was only eyeing the white-and-blue Greifenklau tent to see whether anything was happening there.

  Everywhere busy squires and grooms were occupied constructing and arranging; wooden pegs for ropes and lines were being hammered into the ground; and stable boys brushed and watered their masters’ horses, or led them to the great enclosure where they could graze freely.

  Suddenly Anna froze. Only a stone’s throw away a tent was being put up with a coat of arms she didn’t know. The knight who just happened to be galloping up and who jumped off his horse to check the tent had red curls and a red beard. She had only seen him from behind but already had guessed correctly who it was. As soon as he turned around to bark orders at his two grooms, she recognised him: Gero von Hochstaden. An encounter with him was the last thing she needed. Quickly she pulled up her hood and disappeared behind a horse so as not to be seen. She could not resist bending down, however, to spy on Gero from beneath the horse. Something rankled her and suddenly she knew what it was. His tent and shield did not bear the coat of arms of the Hochstaden, but a different one: a double-tailed golden lion, tongue outstretched, with a red crown on an azure ground with three silver medlar flowers. She would definitely ask Brother Thomas, who was very knowledgeable about such things and who would be able to tell her to what noble family the coat of arms belonged. Gero was ordering around his two grooms. One of them was bald and clean-shaven, the other had long brown hair and a black eye patch which only emphasised his cruel look. They looked familiar to Anna – and then she remembered. She had met them at Heisterbach monastery: they were Gero’s cronies.

  When the older of the two, the one with the eye patch, looked in her direction she instinctively moved back a few steps and bumped against somebody who immediately took hold of her. Anna got a fright.

  ‘Please excuse me,’ she said, embarrassed, and turned around. The man was still holding on to her and looked into her eyes so intensely that she felt he was gazing into her soul.

  ‘A brown eye and a green eye. This can only be the medica,’ the man said with a smile and Anna turned scarlet: it was Chassim von Greifenklau. She wished the ground would open and swallow her, so embarrassed was she.

  He released her, laughing. ‘Nice to see you again, and in broad daylight at last rather than in some dark, musty cellar!’

  Anna stepped back and joined in his laughter, then, pushing back her hood, playfully put a finger on her lips. ‘Shush! This has to remain our secret, my lord!’

  He raised his hands apologetically, and spoke in a conspiratorial whisper even though nobody was near enough to overhear.

  ‘You are right, medica, please forgive me. Do you have some little time for me or are you again on a secret mission to save lives?’ he asked.

  Before Anna had time to reply, he simply took her by the hand, saying, ‘Come and I’ll show you my tent.’

  She wanted to object, but all her resistance faded faster than she could have said ‘No!’

  Inside the tent two young lads were busy. One was setting up the furniture, which consisted of a small table and two stools and the other was scattering straw on the clay floor. Chassim sent them off to look after his horse, bowed to Anna and with a wave directed her inside. The entrance to the tent was folded open and the interior fully visible from outside, so it was not improper for her to take up his invitation and sit on the stool that he pushed towards her.

  As she looked around inside, she saw that a blue fabric tunic with a golden hem was s
pread out on the table and on a wooden stand, a long-sleeved coat of mail made of thousands of wire rings. Below it hung his greeves and gauntlets made of the same material. On top of the stand was a jousting helmet with a hinged visor and an inverted griffin’s claw as a crest on top.

  ‘I don’t know if I already thanked you for helping my sister and my little nephew and looking after them so well. You have no idea how happy that made me, and likewise my brother-in-law. If not, I want to make up for it now – please, wait here and do not run off!’ he threatened and with a smile hurried out of the tent.

  Anna could not believe her luck. For weeks she had been hoping for nothing more than to see the knight Chassim again, and now here she was sitting in his tent and he seemed genuinely delighted to see her.

  Before long Chassim returned with a small chest under his arm. He opened it with a key that hung on a string round his neck and carefully took out a folded blue cloth and offered it to her.

  ‘Please’, he said, ‘take this as a sign of my gratitude and that of my father. Alas he is too old and frail to accompany me to the tournament, but he expressly instructed me to give you this present should I happen to meet you. I had told him all about you.’

  Anna accepted the cloth shyly and carefully unfolded it. It contained a small gold cross on a fine chain with a red gemstone in the shape of a drop of blood set in the centre of the cross. At the sight of it her heart leaped into her throat.

  ‘My . . . my Lord,’ Anna stammered. ‘I don’t know what to say. This is far too precious for me, I cannot accept it.’

  Chassim shot her a severe glance.

  ‘Do you wish to insult me and also my esteemed father?’

  At that very moment she would have loved to have flung her arms around his neck and kissed him.

  Instead she replied, ‘No, of course not. It is most wonderful. Never in my life have I been given anything as beautiful as this.’ She hesitated before she smiled and looked into his eyes with a helpless gesture. ‘To be totally honest, never in my life have I ever been given any present . . .’

  He took the fine chain from her hand.

  ‘It is about time then so!’ he said and put it around her throat from behind, lifting her hair to let the chain lie on her bare neck.

  When he happened to touch her nape ever so gently, Anna got goose bumps all over and blushed deeply again. It was a magical moment for her and she hoped that Chassim also felt something.

  But before she could say anything, one of Chassim’s lads arrived at the entrance to the tent and gave a little cough.

  Chassim turned round to him.

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Sir, the Count of Landskron would like to speak with you and he asks you to call on him,’ the freckled lad said with a suggestion of a bow.

  ‘Alright, I’m coming,’ Chassim said, waiting for the lad to leave before turning back to Anna.

  ‘It was wonderful to see you again. Will you attend the tournament?’ he asked.

  ‘If time permits,’ she said evasively.

  ‘With respect, I want to tell you something but you must keep it to yourself. Will you promise me that?’

  Anna nodded.

  ‘My brother-in-law wants to offer his guest of honour, the Archbishop of Cologne, something very special,’ he began.

  Anna interrupted him and only with the greatest effort could she hide her shock.

  ‘Will the archbishop be attending the tournament? Konrad von Hochstaden?’

  ‘Yes, he will,’ Chassim replied. ‘It is surprising that he stoops to honour with his visit a declared supporter of the Staufers such as my brother-in-law. Do you know him?’

  Anna pondered frantically. Should she tell Chassim that she had met the archbishop before? As Brother Marian? No, that was impossible, and would lead to further questions which she couldn’t possibly answer without giving away far too much of her background.

  ‘Only by name. His reputation precedes him. He is supposed to be a severe servant of the Lord,’ she replied guardedly.

  ‘Well, at least as long as it can be reconciled with his own interests . . . But enough of politics. I just wanted to have warned you,’ he continued, ‘that you shouldn’t believe everything you will see at the tournament.’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘My brother-in-law has a preference for effects such as one would normally only see with jugglers and actors. Therefore don’t get upset during the contests. I am not at liberty to say anything more, otherwise there’s no surprise.’

  He stood up and bowed to her. ‘I was really delighted to meet you again, Medica, and I hope to see you soon,’ he said and disappeared.

  Stunned, Anna remained sitting there for a while gently touching her present, the little cross with the ruby in the shape of a drop of blood. How come Chassim gave her such an expensive present?

  She sighed and stood up. Probably it had been his father’s idea and Chassim simply acted as his messenger. But how beautiful the little cross was! Impulsively, she brought it to her lips and kissed it. She would always carry it with her. It was wonderful to have a memento of the person whom one secretly loved. Then she frightened herself with her thoughts, so hopeless was her love. A count and a peasant girl – it was inconceivable.

  She quickly hid the cross underneath her tunic and left the tent keeping a lookout for Gero and his companions. Thank God they were nowhere to be seen.

  She headed home swiftly, deliberately making a considerable detour to avoid meeting Gero or the castle chaplain. A meeting with that vain, self-satisfied priest with his probing questions was all she needed right now. He would most certainly have noticed that something was amiss – her excitement at meeting Chassim so unexpectedly must still be written all over her face. But what would she do if she met either of them? Well, she would later discuss it with Brother Thomas, she thought as she hurried on; he might know what to do.

  Chapter IX

  When Anna got back to her house outside the city walls she noticed that they had a visitor. A horse stood at the entrance, its reins tied to the door post. She didn’t recognise the horse but the coat of arms on the saddlebag showed that it belonged to the Landskron court.

  She entered the house quietly through the barn. From the hallway she could hear voices coming from the kitchen. Anna tiptoed closer to hear what was being talked about. Possibly the visitor was simply a patient who had come looking for help. She was about to enter the kitchen when she heard Brother Thomas say: ‘And if I refuse to obey the castle chaplain’s request – what will happen then?’

  Anna decided to remain outside and keep listening.

  A man’s voice replied: ‘I would say that you would be wise to obey the request of his reverence voluntarily, Brother Thomas. The castle chaplain does not like it if his requests aren’t obeyed immediately.’

  ‘Forgive me – but are you threatening me? On whose authority should I obey the castle chaplain? He is not my abbot to whom I have pledged obedience.’

  ‘I am but the bearer of his message, Brother Thomas.’

  ‘Well then. Tell him that I will visit him tomorrow. Early, that is, before Mass, if that’s alright with him.’

  ‘Just as you wish. God be with you, Brother Thomas.’

  ‘God be with you.’

  Anna quickly hid as the messenger left the house through the front entrance, mounted his horse and rode off.

  Entering the kitchen she met an angry Brother Thomas who launched into a tirade as soon as he saw her: ‘So that conceited castle chaplain summoned me to an interview as if I were his lackey!’

  ‘What can he possibly want from you?’ she asked.

  Brother Thomas was pacing up and down like a tiger. ‘He wants to see me. To subject me to an interrogation. To question me about my background, my training and my order. What do I know? There was nothing concrete in the message. Probably so that I would be so filled with fear as not to be able to get a wink of sleep tonight. Who,
after all, does he think he is? The archbishop?’

  Anna sat down. ‘It’s not all that far-fetched. The archbishop is expected to attend the tournament in person.’

  Brother Thomas looked at her in surprise. ‘Speaking of the devil . . .’ He cast a brief apologetic glance towards Heaven, made the sign of the cross and murmured: ‘Parce mihi, Domine, qui es Sueba sum!’ Disheartened, he sat down with Anna at the table and poured himself a generous measure from his wineskin. ‘May I pour you a cup, too?’ he asked out of politeness.

  Anna shook her head. ‘He probably wants to question you about our collaboration. And which devil persuaded you to team up with me of all people.’

  ‘And what will I tell him? The truth?’

  They looked at each other awkwardly. Anna was thinking.

  Brother Thomas had just lifted his cup and was about to take his first swallow when she suddenly asked him: ‘Do you know how to write?’

  Perplexed, he put the full cup down again and looked at her. ‘Are you asking the Pope whether he can recite the Lord’s Prayer? Of course I can write. Before I trained as an infirmarius at Weingarten Monastery I worked in the scriptorium for two years. I had the reputation of having the most beautiful hand in Swabia.’ With a touch of arrogance he tossed back the wine in one gulp.

  ‘Oh, that explains the apology for your curses.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ he asked sounding deliberately naïve.

  ‘Your plea for forgiveness. Parce mihi, Domine, qui es Sueba sum. Have mercy on me, O Lord, who am a Swabian.’

  He shrugged his shoulders. ‘It’s just one of my sayings. I was born in Swabia.’

  ‘One can hear it sometimes when you are annoyed,’ Anna taunted.

  ‘I do not get upset on principle. I am calmness personified!’ he said in such an agitated manner that Anna had to smile despite the seriousness of the situation.

  ‘In any case, it is most convenient that you used to work in a scriptorium,’ she said and turned to Berbelin who had entered the kitchen to put more wood on the fire.