by Ellin Carsta
Wilhelm sat down, still snorting with rage.
“The best way to help the archbishop is to find out who’s behind the murders. After that, the motive will reveal itself. Georg, retrieve Benedict. We will meet you at the vicar’s house with the witness.”
“Yes, my lord.”
All rose. Georg left first; the other men waited while Johannes consulted with his servant. He found Hans in the inner courtyard and stood close so that nobody could hear what they were saying. “If this impostor, this false Duretta, comes back, don’t let her out of your sight. I won’t be gone long. Tie her to a chair if need be.”
“But, my lord, I can’t—”
“She is involved in Bernhard von Harvehorst’s murder conspiracy. You can and you will hold her here, do you understand?”
“Yes, my lord.” Hans lowered his head, obviously uneasy about what he was being asked to do.
“We’ll wait up here. Stay perfectly still,” Johannes said to the witness as they came to the top floor of the vicar’s house. It had been relatively easy to break in, but Johannes wondered if it had been necessary to ram Bartholomäus’s front doorframe so violently.
“I don’t feel especially comfortable about this,” Dietrich Tillich said. “What if he sees me and then decides to make me his next victim?”
Johannes gestured to the guards. “Five of the archbishop’s guards surround you. What are you worried about? That the tall blond fellow will take down all of them and then attack you?” Johannes smiled good-naturedly. “No, my good man. Do not worry. Nothing will happen to you.”
“If you say so, my lord.” The doubt in his voice was unmistakable.
“Quiet,” Anderlin hissed. “They’re coming.” The seven men ducked down.
“What are we supposed to pick up here?” Johannes heard somebody saying. He leaned over the balustrade to get a glimpse of the speaker.
Georg entered the house with the tall blond man. “We need to get some parchments. The archbishop’s attorney doesn’t want anything confidential to be removed.” Georg glanced up, signaling to the other men that he knew they were there and wished for them to stay hidden.
“Wait here. I’ll go check the study,” Georg said, leaving Benedict in the hall.
Johannes touched the witness’s shoulder and motioned for him to take a look. Tillich warily moved toward the railing then leaned over it. He pressed his lips together as he scrutinized the guard below. Then he leaned back again. “That’s him,” he whispered.
Benedict looked up.
“Get him!” Johannes hissed and, in the blink of an eye, the guards jumped up and rushed down the stairway. Benedict pulled out his sword and took up a fighting stance but faltered when he recognized his colleagues.
“You?” he said. They grabbed him and threw him to the floor; Benedict dropped his sword.
“Have you all gone mad?” he roared. “What is the meaning of this?”
One of the guards kicked the sword away, and it slid across the floor with a metallic clang. The guards pulled Benedict to his feet.
“What is the meaning of this?” he roared again.
“I’m arresting you on behalf of Friedrich III, the archbishop of Cologne,” Johannes called down from above.
“Why?” Benedict said, watching Johannes as he made his way downstairs.
“For high treason against our employer,” he said when he reached the bottom. “And for murder.”
The blond guard’s jaw fell open. “Treason? Murder? Me?”
“Take him to the dungeon. Do not let him speak to anyone. Two of you will guard him. Say nothing if your colleagues ask you what’s going on. Trust no one. Do you understand?”
“Yes, my lord,” Linhardt said. “I’ll take the first watch.”
“I will join you,” Georg said.
“Good. I have to return to my house. Then I will come to the dungeon and speak to this fellow.” Johannes looked at Benedict, frowning. “And in the meantime, you should consider revealing everything you know.”
“But I don’t know anything!” Benedict shouted as Linhardt and Georg led him away. Tillich stepped forward from his hiding place. “Can I go now?” he asked nervously.
“Yes. And thank you. You have provided untold assistance to the archbishop.”
The man nodded, walked down the steps, and left the house.
“What should we do now?” Niclaus asked.
“Go to the archbishop’s palace and keep your eyes and ears open. I wouldn’t be surprised if news of Benedict’s arrest gets around and alerts his coconspirators.”
The men bade farewell and left, uncomfortable with the idea that one of their own could be involved in this sordid affair.
Johannes went to his house. Once again, he had a feeling that he was being watched. But he didn’t care. He would get them, every single one of them. He had just reached the door when a voice called out from behind him. “Please, Counselor, might I have a word with you?”
He instantly recognized the voice. “Duretta,” he said, turning around. “Or . . . what should I call you? It was wise of you to come to me. The noose is slowly tightening.”
“I’ll tell you everything if you promise that nothing bad will happen to me. I thought I was leading you astray as a kind of a prank.”
“A prank about the circumstances surrounding a murder?”
“I know that what I did was wrong. But I didn’t kill anybody, I swear I didn’t.”
“Come into the house and explain yourself. And don’t leave out a single thing.”
The woman gathered her skirts and hurried up the steps to stand directly in front of him. “I’m so sorry. Please! You must believe me. I never saw one cent of that money and—” She froze, her eyes widened. Then she groaned.
“What is it?” From the corner of his eye, Johannes sensed movement at the opposite end of the alley. The woman started to collapse, and he grabbed her under her arms. “What happened?”
She leaned heavily against him. Then he saw it: an arrow sticking out of her back. “Hans!” he shouted at the top of his lungs as he desperately tried to keep the woman from collapsing even farther.
Hans threw open the door and immediately grasped the situation. He grabbed the woman and pulled her into the house.
“Get the doctor!” Johannes yelled, and Hans took off running. But before Hans reached the bottom of the steps, she’d taken her last breath.
Chapter Thirteen
God protect you, my beloved Madlen,
I am aggrieved to be sending you a message instead of holding you in my arms and speaking with you face-to-face.
Unfortunate events here in Cologne dictate my choices. I don’t wish to upset you, but I also don’t want to lie. There has been a death, a cold-blooded murder of our revered Vicar Bartholomäus. Because of his official duties as the archbishop, Friedrich could not cancel his trip to Rome. And so, before his departure, he formally authorized me to solve the murder.
Everything that will happen for the Goldmann family will happen because of the archbishop’s magnanimity. It will be carried out by Leopold Baumhauer, the envoy who delivered this scroll to you. I beg you, my dear, don’t be cross with me. There is nothing more I desire than to be with you. As soon as I’ve concluded my tasks here, I will leave for Worms, to be happily reunited with you and the children. How I long for that moment!
Leopold plans to quit Cologne as soon as possible, therefore I have only a moment to scribble these few lines. I will send you other messages as soon as I am able.
Your loving husband,
Johannes
Madlen read her husband’s message over and over until she cried herself to sleep. She woke up throughout the night, rolling from one side to the other and falling asleep again. But then she would wake with a start, until she finally couldn’t take it anymore. She went downstairs, gathered up some fabric and sewing supplies, and started to work on a new bonnet for Cecilia. The diversion did her good, calming her considerably.
/> At the break of dawn, Madlen snuck out. She knew that Agathe always got up before Roswitha to work on her dresses in the quiet of the early morning. Madlen felt compelled to speak with her, and so she made her way to her aunt’s house.
It was a bit gloomy outside as she walked along the empty streets, so different from when there were people about, different from the hustle and bustle of everyday life.
In order not to wake Roswitha and her husband, Sander, who occupied one of the back rooms, Madlen tiptoed to the window of the sewing room and called out just loud enough for Agathe to hear her from inside. After a moment, Agathe opened the front door. “For heaven’s sake, Madlen, you scared me half to death! Has something happened? Are the children all right?”
“Yes, the children are just fine.” Madlen embraced her aunt. They then tiptoed down the hall to the sewing room.
“What are you doing up at such an early hour?”
When her niece told her to sit down, Agathe knew it couldn’t be good news.
“Elsbeth and Peter have offered to accompany me to Heidelberg. They would take care of the children so that I could sit in on the medical lectures there.” Madlen glanced nervously at her aunt. “After what you said yesterday, I had let go of any notion of studying medicine. But when I got home, Elsbeth surprised me with this offer.”
“And now you would like to have my blessing?”
“I won’t go if you are truly against it,” Madlen said.
“No.” Agathe’s answer was decisive. “I will not let you manipulate me like this.”
“What do you mean?”
“I am quite aware of your passion for the healing arts. You want my support, though you know that I feel what you’re planning to do is wrong. It’s not fair of you to pressure me to stand beside you on this issue.”
Madlen bowed her head. “I didn’t mean to pressure you,” she said meekly.
“Explain it to me, then. How can listening to this doctor be more important than your children?”
Madlen grew furious. “That’s not fair. I love you with all my heart, Agathe, but don’t you dare say anything like that again.”
A tiny smile crept onto Agathe’s face. “Forgive me, please. It was a temporary lapse. I was angry, and I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
“Why? Why are you so angry?”
Agathe leaned back onto her chair. “To tell you the truth, I’m jealous.”
“Of me? But why?”
“Because you have everything I ever wanted. You have a husband with whom you are truly in love, two wonderful children, and, on top of that, a passion for healing the sick. Is it any wonder that a simple woman like me envies you?”
“Oh, Agathe.” Madlen embraced her aunt and then took a seat in the chair next to hers. “You’re not really envious of me, are you?”
“No, my darling, I am incredibly proud of you. And I love you from the bottom of my heart. It’s just that I’m afraid you could lose everything for a dream that can never be realized.”
“I know that. Believe me, Agathe, I’m no simpleton. I know I could never become a real doctor. But I have this feeling”—she put her hand on her bosom—“deep inside of me. I want to heal. I say this because it’s how I feel—that God is with me when I’m given the opportunity to heal the sick. And to be able to listen and learn would fulfill me like almost nothing else.”
“Your eyes light up when you talk about healing.”
“I feel quite content as a wife and a mother. But is it really so wrong to want to listen to the words of this great doctor?”
“No,” Agathe said. “No, it’s not. I was wrong to judge you and to try to talk you out of it.” She took Madlen’s hand. “When will you be leaving for your journey?”
“Tomorrow. But only if you’re not angry with me.”
“Tomorrow? Well, all right, then. We will leave for Heidelberg tomorrow.”
“We?”
“Of course. You don’t think I’m going to stay here, do you?” She stroked Madlen’s cheek. “In the years since you came into my life, you’ve been like a daughter to me. And even though you live far away, you are always in my heart. So, I will accompany you to Heidelberg as my way of supporting your decision. I’m here for you, my darling girl. You can count on me.”
Madlen gave her aunt such an enthusiastic embrace that the older woman almost fell off her chair.
“With one condition! That I’m the first person you heal.” The women burst into laughter. Roswitha appeared at the door, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes,” Agathe said. “Everything is all right. Madlen is going to Heidelberg tomorrow morning, and I’ll be going with her.”
Roswitha was so surprised that for a moment she didn’t say anything. “Then I’d better prepare a good breakfast first thing tomorrow morning,” she finally said, then left the room shaking her head.
Agathe and Madlen began to giggle. “Just give her some time to wake up,” Agathe joked. “Being up so early is just a bit too much for her.”
Madlen, Agathe, Elsbeth, Peter, Gerald, Ursel, Ansgar, the children, and the doctor left for Heidelberg the next morning. Elsbeth decided that Helene would stay at the house to care for Leopold, and Madlen had contracted a messenger to deliver a letter explaining the situation to Johannes in Cologne. The administrator was happy to support Madlen’s ambitions, so when Elsbeth and Peter asked if they should stay to help him, he told them that he worked best alone and preferred no interference from them.
The doctor was thrilled that Madlen had accepted his invitation.
“What was it that ultimately convinced you?” he asked, his horse trotting next to Madlen’s mare.
“My in-laws,” Madlen said without hesitation. “They took me by surprise.”
“It was probably the only way they could have persuaded you.”
“You might be right.” She smiled. “I’ll admit that I had my doubts . . . and my Aunt Agathe did, too.” She pointed her chin toward her aunt, who was riding with Cecilia. Veit was riding with his grandfather, and the boy seemed to be enjoying the old man’s tales of long ago.
“Why?” the doctor asked.
“Probably because I have more than most women do, and therefore am more fortunate than I probably have a right to be.”
“But your good fortune doesn’t preclude you from learning.”
“Yes, I agree. Can you tell me what I’ll be learning from you when we’re in Heidelberg?”
“Well, I’ll be speaking about the human body, what keeps it in balance and what poisons it. And how to treat the illnesses we run into most frequently. There are so many kinds of injuries and illnesses that at first glance seem incurable. But they are often not all that difficult to treat. Take your father-in-law’s condition, for example. The cataract procedure changed everything for him, and for many others.” He pointed at Peter. “Look at him now, riding and chatting with your son. As if it has always been that way.” Franz looked straight ahead again. “People take their health for granted until a disease takes hold. Before that moment, they are focused on other things, be it financial success or finding a nice person to marry. But when they become ill, they can think of nothing but becoming healthy again, to regain what they’d taken for granted.”
“You are completely right. I’ve seen a lot of sick people. They all have that same doleful look.”
“I know what you mean. Please, tell me how you became interested in the healing arts.”
“What should I say? As a young girl, I helped a very good friend, a midwife. She had a wonderful way with women. I was about thirteen when I assisted with my first delivery.” She cleared her throat. It wasn’t easy for her to talk about it. “You know, my mother lost her life when she gave me mine. For as long as I can remember, I’ve wondered whether she might have lived if she’d had the right kind of care.”
“It’s impossible to say,” the doctor said. “Each delivery is different. If I could be so bold as to give you
my advice: Try not to let such ruminations overtake you. They are useless and introverting, and they make you sad and rob you of your vitality.”
“Of course you are right. But sometimes it’s impossible not to think of these things.”
“Then I advise you not to fight it. Think it over, while at the same time asking yourself how you can spare another from the same horrible fate. But don’t think any more about the past. It’s a waste of time.”
“Thank you for the advice. I’ll try my best to follow it.”
“What are you expecting from your time at the university?” Franz asked.
“I don’t know exactly. But someone once told me if I don’t take advantage of this opportunity, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”
“You are wise to listen.” He smiled at her. “Follow your heart, Madlen.”
“I will,” she promised. And with these words, she felt happier than she had in a very long time.
Around noon, they arrived in Wallstadt. They stopped to rest, and Cecilia asked whether this trip would be as long as the one from Cologne to Worms. The little girl breathed a sigh of relief when Madlen said no.
Right before they reached Viernheim, they took another rest, then rode on until they reached the large bridge that crossed over the Neckar. Madlen halted her horse and gazed across the river to the opposite shore. It had been years since she’d last been here. Her brother, Kilian, and a young woman named Irma had helped her escape Heidelberg when she’d been falsely accused of killing a baby and its mother. About a year after Madlen’s court battle ended, Kilian took Irma as his wife. From letters that Irma and Kilian had dictated to a scribe, Madlen knew that they’d been blessed with a daughter. Like so many women, and despite Irma’s hopes, after the first baby she’d been pregnant several times but had always miscarried in the first trimester. Madlen didn’t know what effect this had had on her and regretted not being able to be there to stand by her sister-in-law. She’d only been able to offer her condolences and encouragements through her letters. So it made Madlen all the more excited to be returning to the city she’d grown up in to see for herself how they were faring.