The Apothecary's Secret

by Johanna Geiges

  ‘Berbelin, would you bring us some parchment along with sealing wax, a pen and ink?’

  Berbelin nodded and hurried out.

  ‘What is your plan?’ Brother Thomas asked.

  ‘Me? My plan?’ Anna asked innocently. ‘It’s not my plan. You will do something.’

  ‘Me? What do you mean – what will I do?’

  ‘You will write yourself a dispensation from your abbot in Weingarten with all that this implies. And this you will show to the castle chaplain tomorrow. Your abbot . . . what was his name again?’

  ‘Abbot Hugo von Montford.’

  ‘Precisely. Abbot Hugo von Montford gives you express permission to travel through the country as a mendicant doing pastoral work, treating the sick and indigent and invoking God’s blessing on this difficult mission.’

  Brother Thomas looked at Anna in open-mouthed wonder, as if she had just announced that he would be presiding over the Last Judgment the following day. So he repeated in order to be sure that he understood her correctly: ‘You mean to say that I should . . . forge . . . a dispensation from Abbot Hugo von Montford?’

  Anna shrugged her shoulders and said brightly: ‘Can you think of a better plan?’

  The penny finally dropped and Brother Thomas shook his head and grinned. ‘I have always suspected that you were a schemer. But never that you were this crafty – good heavens!’ His obligatory glance towards Heaven followed as well as a quick sign of the cross. He wanted to add his full ‘Parce mihi . . .’ but stopped there.

  ‘For some time now I have given up believing that it is helpful to turn the other cheek when one is struck,’ Anna said. ‘Leviticus twenty-four, verse twenty, “an eye for an eye”, do you understand? I will certainly defend myself.’

  ‘Eye for eye, tooth for tooth, letter for letter – I doubt that the archbishop would agree with your interpretation of the Bible,’ he remarked, scratching his head doubtfully.

  ‘To God all men are equal. The Bible was not written solely for the archbishop, was it?’

  Brother Thomas quickly made the sign of the cross and lowered his voice before he replied: ‘Be careful of what you say, Anna. People have been burnt at the stake for less. This is heresy!’

  ‘No it isn’t. It is a fact. The castle chaplain wants to grill you,’ Anna replied.

  ‘And to let you know that you are next in line,’ Brother Thomas added.

  ‘Yes, he is tightening the thumb screws. But I have no intention of quaking before him. And what about you? Do you just want to accept and suffer all of this and do nothing?’

  ‘No. No, that is not what I want.’

  ‘You once told me that the only thing we can do in life is side with those who do not make things worse. And what precisely do the castle chaplain and his henchmen intend to do? They want to keep us from fulfilling our vocation. Because what we do calls their authority into question. Thus we threaten their influence over people. And a man like him wants to prevent this at all costs. So we will beat him at his own game.’

  At that moment Berbelin entered with the writing materials that Anna had asked for, put everything on the table and left again.

  In the meantime Brother Thomas was beginning to like Anna’s proposal. He was already rubbing his hands vigorously and agreeing with the medica: ‘You are right, Anna. If we do not fight back in our own way now – when will we?’ He opened his arms wide and zealously began drafting a dispensation authentic enough to compete with any document written by a papal secretary. Finally, they even faked the seal of Weingarten Monastery; Brother Thomas expertly carved the matrix from a piece of wood and stamped the sealing wax with it.

  In the meantime darkness had fallen and the two had lit candles to finish their work.

  Proudly they looked at their parchment. It looked deceptively genuine, and both of them had seen enough monastic documents to know.

  Then suddenly Brother Thomas had second thoughts. ‘And what happens if he forbids me to work with you anyway?’

  ‘Could he do that?’

  ‘He could try.’

  ‘Then you tell him that our work enjoys the express goodwill of our sovereign. The countess assured me of that only yesterday.’

  Brother Thomas nodded and looked into the fire pensively which was still burning in the hearth. ‘Should we ever lose his protection it might have grave consequences for us.’

  ‘Yes,’ Anna agreed seriously. ‘But let us continue until such time!’

  That night Anna lay awake for a long time staring into the dark. It was not because of the forgery of the document – that didn’t burden her conscience at all. She was fingering her present, the cross and chain. She could not stop thinking about her encounter with Chassim and was holding the proof that he liked her and had not forgotten her. What should she do if he was to say it aloud? She did not know. She would probably react in whatever way her heart would dictate at that particular moment. Right now she felt completely indifferent to class barriers, arrogance or any ifs and buts. An intense desire such as she had never felt before pulsed through her body. All she wanted was to lie in Chassim’s arms, far away from worldly worries and troubles and be happy forever. With this all-consuming thought she glided into sleep and dreamed the sweetest dreams she had dreamed in a long time.

  Chapter X

  The first day of the tournament had dawned and the calm summer weather couldn’t have been more brilliant as there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Everyone who could walk was on the way to the huge field below Landskron Castle, which was already so thronged that it was difficult to negotiate a way through the hustling masses. The tournament was a social event not only for the nobility and clergy from near and far who had accepted the count’s invitation, but also for the common people, for such festival days were rare when some few crumbs of entertainment fell from the table of the wealthy and powerful to be enjoyed by everybody. Jugglers, artists, actors, travelling singers, fire-breathers, acrobats, musicians and jesters all caused a stir as they held the audience captivated or played their tricks and pranks on them.

  Indeed, the count did not hold back as far as hospitality, accommodation and entertainment were concerned. Everyone was to share in his joy and happiness that at last after many long and harrowing years, God had granted him and his wife a long-desired heir.

  Nevertheless, this celebration also had a diplomatic purpose. The leading nobles were to have an opportunity to meet peaceably, settle disputes, form alliances and negotiate wedding and engagement contracts. To this end, elaborate seating plans were necessary for the great banquet, the open air Mass, Masses in the castle chapel and seating on the grandstand. No one was to have cause to complain that they hadn’t been seated according to their rank and status. Since nothing could be left to chance in this regard, the count, his wife and their chamberlain had spent weeks working on the arrangements according to protocol. Ordinary folk, however, had to reserve the best spots with the help of their elbows. The tournament arena had been prepared with sand from the banks of the Rhine to break any falls from horses and was fenced off with wooden barriers.

  Since early morning the air buzzed with a strange combination of voices, jingling harness and clanking weaponry along with the sounds and smells of horses. Bets were placed on particular knights, and the more the ranks of spectators increased, the more the tension grew. The seats for the highest nobles – including the archbishop who had arrived with his retinue the previous evening – remained unoccupied as long as the Mass for the honorary guests in the castle chapel was still in progress. Finally a roll of drums and trumpet fanfare announced the arrival of their lordships on the field. A murmur went through the crowd as the countess took her seat on the grandstand with her little son in her arms. When she stood up again to give a friendly wave, the crowd started to clap and cheer, for both her and for the count, who came to join her waving genially. Things calmed down noticeably as the archbishop stepped onto the grandstand to sit on his cushioned chair next to the
count.

  Thanks to the robust efforts of Brother Thomas, Anna had managed to get a place in the front row opposite the grandstand and she eagerly looked forward to Chassim’s appearance. At first Brother Thomas could not understand Anna’s excitement about the tournament. He who would get involved in any brawl without a moment’s hesitation started the day as calm as any Benedictine at peace with himself, but he knew he would find it difficult to control himself once it came to a proper fight between the knights in the arena. He was looking forward to that, and secretly would have loved to be part of it. He was in great form all the same, and had to restrain himself as best he could or out of sheer high spirits he would have waved at the castle chaplain who had just taken his seat behind the archbishop.

  Brother Thomas recalled how that morning he had sat opposite the conceited castle chaplain with a feigned submissive expression. When asked gruffly about how as a Benedictine monk, he had come to work with a young medica of doubtful reputation he had solemnly handed him the document supposedly issued by the Abbot of Weingarten. What an inner triumph it had been! Anna would have given a great deal to have been present. But despite their malicious glee, Anna and Brother Thomas knew only too well that at most they had won a slight skirmish, not a battle and certainly not the war. Nevertheless it felt pleasant to have played a trick on their enemy.

  The tournament started without warning. Everybody had expected that there would be speeches and a roll call, and that a herald would announce what was to happen on that first day. But it seemed from the very start that the count wanted to put on something particularly spectacular for the archbishop, who seemed mildly bored. Suddenly, from left and right a dozen knights with splendid helmet crests and plumes thundered in on their war horses, causing the ground to shake. In perfect formation they galloped towards each other passing closely through each other’s lines. Then they wheeled around to repeat the same manoeuvre. It was an impressive display of flashing iron, fluttering flags, whirling hoofs and throaty screams.

  When the dust had settled, the horses trotted to the grandstand. There, the knights lined up, respectfully lowering their lances as they bowed to the noble ladies and gentlemen. Next, they turned to parade in front of the common spectators, displaying the armorial surcoats they wore over their chain mail. The brocade, silk, gold thread and even gemstones that were worked into the fabrics gleamed and glistened in the sunlight as the horses snorted and pranced.

  Anna had recognised Chassim immediately by the griffin’s claw on his helmet, his blue clothing and his horse with the blaze. When it was his turn to present himself he dug in his heels, making the animal prance, horse and rider forming a perfect unit. Eyes beaming, Anna followed his impressive exhibition and joined in the general applause so enthusiastically that Brother Thomas turned to her in surprise. Anna didn’t notice him as she was too busy clapping and jumping around with excitement like a little girl.

  All of a sudden drum rolls announced the next spectacle, the buhurt. At each end of the arena the armoured knights lined up in two formations of equal size and faced each other. Then drums went quiet, and the sudden silence made the audience hold its breath. The count stood up holding a white cloth in his hand. All eyes were on him. The knights lowered their wooden lances into a horizontal position, ready to charge. The horses snorted nervously. Georg von Landskron let the tension mount to breaking point. At last he let the cloth fall and the contest began.

  The lines of riders hurtled towards each other in unison. As they clashed man against man, the points of their lances clattered hard on their shields, wood splintered and blood spattered. Almost half of the riders were unseated, crashing to the ground amid the flailing hooves.

  A collective outcry came from hundreds of throats. Horrified, Anna clapped her hand in front of her mouth to suppress a cry; even Brother Thomas got a fright, and the archbishop himself jumped in his seat. Everyone expected the count to stop the combat, but Georg von Landskron remained calmly seated, his hand reassuringly on his wife’s shoulder. The buhurt continued.

  Where was Chassim? Then Anna saw that he was still on his horse, but now like the other knights was about to draw his sword and go for the enemy closest to him. As they engaged, the din and clanging of the slashing swords filled the air. Terrified riderless horses shied and whinnied in panic as the general carnage continued and one knight after another fell into the dust, armour covered in blood.

  Concentrating fully on Chassim, Anna saw his opponent knock him to the ground with a massive blow. As he lay on the ground motionless with his suit of armour covered in blood, Anna’s paralysing terror came to an end. Her heart was racing as all her medica instincts demanded that she cross the barrier, get to Chassim and save whatever could be saved.

  But Brother Thomas held her back with an iron grip and whispered into her ear: ‘Stay here! The blood is not real!’

  First she fought desperately to escape his grip, but he would not let go.

  ‘Calm down! Listen to me – all this is only an exhibition fight!’

  At last his words sank in. She stared at him and remembered Chassim’s remark – that she should be prepared for a surprise and not get a fright at the tournament. Now she understood what he had meant.

  And lo and behold – all the knights who only a moment ago had been lying there as if dead suddenly rose up, smeared in blood.

  Brother Thomas whispered into Anna’s ear: ‘It is only red colouring or animal blood! They have bags filled with it slung beneath their armour which they can burst at the right moment!’

  Then he let go of her and started to clap and whoop joyfully like some other spectators who had begun to realise what was happening. The applause kept swelling until finally all the onlookers came to understand the performance they had witnessed.

  Anna, however, remained deathly pale, beads of sweat on her forehead. She would definitely have collapsed if Brother Thomas hadn’t held on to her.

  After the general excitement, an intermission was announced. The knights bowed before the grandstand and grooms caught and looked after the scattered horses. A few minstrels trooped into the arena with their lutes, drums and bagpipes to entertain the audience with their songs as gradually the crowd dispersed. On the grandstand pageboys offered bowls of wine and platters with bread and meat. Many ordinary folk queued at the stands selling food and beer, while everywhere people rich and poor animatedly discussed the recent performance.

  Brother Thomas stayed with Anna.

  ‘Whatever was the matter with you, medica?’ he wanted to know. ‘Can you suddenly not stand the sight of blood any more?’

  Anna shook her head and forced a tortured smile. ‘I probably just didn’t eat enough,’ she said weakly.

  Brother Thomas immediately reached into his bag and produced some bread and with his knife cut off a piece for Anna.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said chewing it half-heartedly. ‘I have to take a few steps, it will do me good,’ she then said and simply left the brother where he stood. Anna purposefully headed for the tents where the knights were staying. She had pulled up her hood, but if anybody should ask what her business was she had taken along the count’s license, which allowed her, as a medica, to go wherever she pleased and where she was needed. It was very busy between the tents. The knights, exhausted from the contest, were resting or still being divested of their chain mail and armour by their squires and pages. The few who actually had been hurt were being treated by the count’s army surgeon.

  Suddenly Anna slowed. She had just seen Chassim carrying some cloths and heading along the little stream towards the forest. She followed him at a distance.

  At the forest’s edge, past a secluded bend in the river, she saw him, bare-chested and knee-deep in the stream, washing off the fake blood. Anna had approached carefully checking that no one was near. Unsure, she stopped at a fitting distance from the stream. Just then Chassim spotted her and waved to her as she was about to turn away.

  ‘Stop!’ he called, ‘Stop
! Don’t go away, medica!’

  She stood still, not facing him. ‘I just wanted to see whether having risen from the dead, you might need the services of a medica,’ she said with her back to him.

  ‘So you were worried about me?’ he asked cheerily.

  ‘Solely from the viewpoint of a medica,’ she replied.

  ‘Well then, I would very much like to ask for your services.’

  Anna turned around to Chassim who had come out of the stream with one cloth around his shoulders while drying his hair with another. ‘But you are bleeding!’ she cried worriedly when she noticed the finger-length cut on his upper arm.

  ‘Oh, that’s nothing. Only a scratch,’ he said.

  ‘Let me see,’ she said as, with her heart thumping, she approached Chassim who stood there with his hair tousled and a few water drops glistening on his bare muscular torso. ‘You really did scare me,’ she exclaimed.

  ‘Did I not warn you?’ he said shrugging his shoulders.

  Anna examined his injury. ‘You are right, it is nothing serious and does not need suturing,’ she said, taking a cloth off the ground, ripping it into strips and tying them tightly around his upper arm. ‘A firm bandage should do.’

  ‘Suturing?’ Chassim asked in surprise. ‘What do you mean by suturing?’

  ‘Bigger wounds I stitch up with a needle and thread as it heals better.’

  ‘Like with my sister?’

  ‘Yes, just like with your sister.’

  ‘Well, so I’ve been lucky this time.’

  ‘Yes, you were,’ Anna replied and continued to wind the bandage around his upper arm. ‘But one should not test one’s luck.’

  Patiently Chassim kept holding his arm out to Anna. Then he looked around.

  Suddenly he took Anna’s face in his hands, looked into her eyes and pressed a kiss on her lips. A gentle, tender kiss which took her by surprise in one way and yet didn’t – because secretly she had longed for it. The kiss was exactly as she had dreamed it, only more beautiful because it was real. Her head spun as she returned the kiss without thinking. A wild torrent of feelings overwhelmed her. She could no longer offer any resistance. She was overcome.