The Master of Medicine (The Secret Healer Series Book 2)

by Ellin Carsta

  “You must have patience,” Madlen said. “She is a mother grief-stricken over the loss of her child.”

  “And I”—he pounded his chest—“am a father who has also lost his child. My little girl, my beautiful little pearl.” He couldn’t hold back his tears.

  Madlen stroked his back gently, trying to calm him. “Everything will be all right. Believe me. Everything will fall into place.”

  Kilian wiped away his tears, annoyed with himself. “Let’s not talk about this anymore. I’m embarrassed about how much I’ve said already.”

  “It was good that you talked it out,” Elsbeth said compassionately. “And Madlen is right. Everything will fall into place. Time heals all wounds.”

  The church bell rang and Agathe looked up. “Quickly, Madlen. You promised the doctor you’d be at the university at noon.”

  Madlen opened her eyes wide.

  “I’ll walk you there,” Kilian said, standing up.

  “But the children—”

  “We’ll take care of them. Now run!” Agathe ordered.

  The siblings hurried down the steps of the inn. Madlen felt guilty because she hadn’t had a chance to say good-bye to her children; she swore to herself that that would never happen again.

  They ran down the city streets, as they’d often done as children. The only difference was that Kilian held her hand firmly now, which he never would have done when they were younger; he would have thought it made him look like a weakling. But now he was glad to have his sister back, if only for a short time.

  They reached the university campus. Madlen was nervous, but she didn’t have time to think about it. She quickly embraced Kilian and suggested that he return to the Golden Rooster that evening so they could enjoy a meal together. Kilian agreed. She briefly considered whether to invite her father. She hadn’t spoken to Jerg yet. But because of her rush to get to the lecture, she put that worry aside. She brushed her brother’s cheek with her lips and ran in.

  She barely had time to admire the building’s high stone walls, the intimidatingly opulent architecture. When she came upon the first few men, she slowed her pace. She didn’t want to seem panicked, like a chicken with its head cut off. Several men scrutinized her in passing, but they didn’t say anything. So, she nodded as she strode by, and they responded in kind. Once she’d passed, she started running again, until she reached the end of the hall. She had no idea whether to turn right or left but finally decided to turn right. She kept running. She went a bit farther and met six more men walking in the opposite direction. They were around her age and well dressed; a few might have even been a few years younger than she. She slowed her pace again, straightened her spine, and hoped with all her might that her bonnet hadn’t slipped back. She summoned all her courage and addressed them as though they were all equals. “God bless you. I’m searching for Dr. Franz von Beyenburg.”

  “Oh?” one of them said. “Are you ill? Maybe I can help you.” Madlen thought his tone was a bit forward and shyly bowed her head.

  Another one pushed his way forward. “We’re on our way to the doctor’s medical lecture.” His tone was friendly and Madlen looked up. “You may accompany us if you wish.”

  “That would be very nice. Thank you so much.”

  “Well? Let’s get going,” the man said as the group resumed their route. He dropped back to walk beside Madlen, who had fallen behind. “My name is Thomas, Thomas Winterberg.”

  “I’m Madlen Goldmann. Glad to meet you.”

  “What do you want from the doctor?”

  Madlen hesitated then decided to answer his question. After all, she’d be sitting with these men and listening to Franz von Beyenburg’s lecture in a few minutes anyway. “The good doctor invited me to be a guest at his lectures.”

  The first man stopped abruptly, and the others followed suit. “He did what?” They all turned to stare at her.

  “Is something wrong with your ears?” Thomas said. “Let’s go.”

  One of the men refused to budge. “But she’s a woman.”

  “Well, that’s just wonderful—at least your eyes are working,” Thomas teased. “Are you going to go now, or are you going to let your feet take root here?”

  The man still didn’t move, but the others started walking, whereupon he started to move forward, too. The man made Madlen’s skin crawl; she threw Thomas a furtive look.

  “That charming gentleman ahead of us is Hubertus von something-or-other,” he joked loudly enough for the others to hear. “I’ve forgotten the last part of his title. I must say the way he behaves sometimes is quite tiresome.”

  “Hubertus von Megenberg,” the man called over his shoulder without turning around.

  The man’s attitude was haughty and intimidating. Madlen pressed her lips together.

  “Where are you from, Madlen?”

  “I’m from Cologne.”

  “Cologne? That’s very far away. And you’ve come here because of the lectures?”

  “Well, actually I just came from Worms. But that’s kind of a long story.”

  “You can tell me some other time,” Thomas said amiably. “Oh, look. We’re here.”

  Madlen stopped in front of an imposing wooden door, trimmed with huge iron hinges and looming at least twelve feet high and just as wide. Upon entering, Madlen found long, sturdy wooden benches instead of the chairs she’d been expecting.

  Dr. Franz von Beyenburg was sorting through some papers, his back to the students. Then he turned around, and a big smile spread across his face when he saw Madlen. She froze in her tracks while the others found their places on the benches.

  “There you are. I was worried that you might have changed your mind.”

  Madlen smiled. “Of course not.” She leaned toward him. “Although I must confess that I don’t feel completely comfortable here.”

  The doctor understood exactly what she meant without further explanation. “Stand next to me. I want to introduce you so you’ll feel a bit more at home.”

  “Thank you.”

  The doctor waited a few moments to make sure that everybody had a place to sit. Then he looked around the room and found his voice. “Greetings! My name is Franz von Beyenburg. My full title is Master of Medicine of the University of Salerno.” He stepped behind Madlen and took her shoulders so that the students’ attention would be directed on her. “Without studying at the Schola Medica Salernitana, this young woman already knows more about healing than most of you here in this room. That’s why I’ve invited her to attend these lectures.”

  Hubertus von Megenberg immediately spoke up. “But she’s a woman.”

  “I congratulate you on your impressive powers of observation,” Franz von Beyenburg said with a grin. “And may I ask your name?”

  “Hubertus von Megenberg. My father is a big donor to this university.”

  “Then pray pass along my eternal gratitude to the honorable patriarch of your family. Tell me, if you would, Hubertus von Megenberg, what do the words consule naturam and natura est operatrix, medicus vero minister mean?”

  “‘Let nature be thy counsel’; ‘nature is the worker, the physician is but her minister,’” von Megenberg answered.

  “Excellent. Those are the mottoes of the physicians of the Salerno School of Medicine. I will encourage you to embrace these precepts. Very wise, don’t you agree?”

  Hands clasped behind his back, the doctor took a few steps. “Would you like to be a part of that institution, Hubertus von Megenberg?”

  “Yes, Doctor.”

  “Good. Then I will inform you that the Salerno School not only produces Masters of Medicine; it also accomplishes something else, something that will undoubtedly catch on here in this country sometime in the future. Women study medicine there. And not only that. They compose articles, many of which, in my opinion, are works of great importance. Incidentally, this has been occurring for the last two hundred years.” He stopped and smiled. “Obviously, we are a bit behind the times here. But we sho
uldn’t grieve over it. If we are wise, we’ll follow in Salerno’s footsteps, not only in the healing arts but in our general philosophy. Are we all agreed?”

  Murmuring and nodding answered the question.

  “Good. So I beseech you, Madlen, to take a seat like everyone else here in this room and listen to what I have to offer.”

  “There’s a seat here,” Thomas said, and Madlen thanked him with a smile. She walked over and sat down. As she did, Madlen worried Hubertus von Megenberg’s look of scorn would burn a hole right through her.

  “That was incredible!” Madlen let herself fall back onto the bed, opening her arms wide to allow the children to throw themselves upon her.

  “Mother! I missed you so!” Cecilia cuddled up to her.

  Veit jumped up and down on the bed, making it creak and groan precariously.

  “Stop it, Veit,” Madlen ordered.

  “Tell me everything,” said Agathe, who had pulled up a chair. “Were there any difficulties?”

  Madlen sat up and leaned against the wall, holding Cecilia in her arm. “There is a fellow, a Hubertus von Megenberg, who will undoubtedly not be my friend.”

  “Well, you’re not there to make friends. Was it just like you imagined?”

  “Better. Dr. Franz is a Master of Medicine. He talked about human anatomy and about how students in Salerno gain and improve upon their knowledge by dissecting animals.”

  “What?” Cecilia screeched. “Does that mean they cut up animals?”

  “It sounds worse than it is,” Madlen said, trying to wriggle her way out of an uncomfortable explanation. She silently noted to herself to exercise more caution in the future when talking about her experiences, especially if the children were around.

  “How many days will you be allowed to sit in on the lectures?” Agathe asked, her words hitting Madlen right in the heart. An oppressive feeling had come over her when she’d asked herself this same question as she walked back from the university to the inn. She knew that this new, bright world of learning would be closed again to her all too soon.

  “I don’t know. Probably not many.”

  Agathe noticed the change in Madlen’s spirits. “Well, today was your first day, and you still have plenty of time there,” she said cheerfully. “It’s the way life is. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

  “That’s good advice. I will take it to heart.”

  “When do we get to go back to Cologne?” Veit asked.

  “Why do you ask?” Madlen pulled him close. “Don’t you like it here?”

  “It’s just not our home.”

  “True.” Madlen pursed her lips. “It won’t be long.”

  “Well, I think it’s wonderful here,” Cecilia said. “We can never sleep in your bed at home because Father’s there . . . and we have Agathe, Grandmother, and Grandfather here, too.”

  “They were in Worms already,” Veit said.

  “But not in Cologne.” Cecilia made a face. “When we go back home, we won’t be able to see them like we can now!”

  “Everything in life has its time,” Madlen said, expanding on Agathe’s comments. “We’re here now, and we’ll be in Worms again soon enough. And then we’ll be back in Cologne. Let’s make sure to appreciate every single moment.”

  “I agree,” Agathe said. “It will be getting dark soon. Why don’t we go to the market and have a look around?”

  The children agreed immediately, but Madlen hesitated. “I haven’t seen my father yet.” She looked at Agathe. “Don’t you want to see your brother after all these years?”

  “I don’t know Grandfather Jerg,” Cecilia stated. “I would just as soon go to the market.”

  Veit agreed with her. The children never had any qualms about sharing their opinions on such things.

  “Well, all right, then. I’ll go visit him tomorrow, as soon as I return from the university,” Madlen said, telling herself that she was simply giving in to the children’s wishes. But the truth was she didn’t mind postponing this visit for yet another day.

  Chapter Sixteen

  My beloved Johannes,

  So much is happening, and I miss you more than words can say.

  I was horrified and deeply pained when I found out about Bartholomäus’s death. I know that you appreciated the vicar’s soft-spoken and sensible ways. The archbishop was wise to assign you to solve this terrible crime. I pray that you’ve already been able to convict the murderer by the time you get this letter. Since you wrote to me of this terrible death, another person got his life back. Your father is cured. Peter can see again, Johannes! And there’s more good news. He’s become more thoughtful and friendlier, and kinder than I’ve ever seen him in all these years. He says he has a feeling that God sent him the illness so that he would repent, and now that He has taken it away, Peter has vowed to prove that he understands His lesson. It is truly a miracle.

  Your mother is infinitely grateful for his recovery, but more than that for the transformation of his character. She grows stronger every day. She smiles again and seems to enjoy every single moment she has with the children.

  This is all because of the healing hands of a man who’d found accommodations at Otilia’s house here in Worms. The man’s name is Dr. Franz von Beyenburg. He studied Eastern medicine at the medical school in Salerno, and he will travel to Heidelberg to teach at the university there. He performed a cataract operation on your father. I was astonished by how simple it seemed to him. I assisted and almost couldn’t believe it.

  Before I met him, Otilia had told the doctor how I had helped her daughter, Reni, with the deadly cough. Because he himself had a sister who was proficient in the healing arts—hers is a story that doesn’t have a happy ending—he offered me the chance to go to Heidelberg and sit in on his medical lectures for a few days. Did you know that women are allowed to study medicine as well as jurisprudence at the school in Salerno? I had no idea that was possible, but Dr. Franz said that it’s completely accepted there and that it’s been that way for more than two hundred years.

  Don’t worry, my beloved. I know my place and I know where I belong. Even your parents, perhaps out of gratitude for Peter’s recovery, offered to travel with me to Heidelberg and take care of the children, so that I can go to the university. Agathe will also accompany us.

  I almost forgot to mention that Leopold is already busy paying off debts and filling up the counting house and the warehouse. This Leopold is really a very amusing character in his own way. He seems happy to tackle his assigned tasks, and he explicitly told Elsbeth and Peter to accompany me to Heidelberg. I think he’s glad that Peter won’t be constantly looking over his shoulder.

  By the time you receive this letter, we’ll already be in Heidelberg. I’ll write to you as soon as we leave from there, and I hope we’ll see you again soon in Worms.

  With eternal love,

  Your Madlen

  Johannes dropped the letter he had received from the messenger earlier that evening. He didn’t know what to think. His father could see again? How was such a thing possible? Certainly, he’d heard about these kinds of operations, but he always assumed it was wishful thinking or exaggeration or outlandish fantasy from the minds of desperate people. He had to agree with his wife that this doctor had indeed performed a miracle. Yet something held him back from being too happy about it. First of all, he knew his father all too well. He might be able to resist the temptations of alcohol and women for a while, but would he be able to give up these vices for good? Johannes seriously doubted it. That wasn’t the only thing that worried him. He was more concerned about his wife’s enthusiasm, which was all too plain in her letters—enthusiasm about the doctor, to be exact. Johannes tried to calm down, reminding himself of Madlen’s passion for healing. He knew she felt it with every fiber of her being. And he also knew that she’d never been able to completely abandon this passion, even though she’d sworn off the practice of healing years ago.

  She was a faithful and good wife who’d always stood
by his side. She’d always lent him a sympathetic ear for his every concern, and she listened patiently when he talked about a trial or problems with a pending lawsuit. She listened when he ridiculed those who had succumbed under pressure or given up too quickly. She didn’t judge him even though his official duties sometimes required him to pressure witnesses or the accused. And she was a wonderful mother who educated both of their children well and loved them from the bottom of her heart. But there was one thing that neither Johannes nor the family could give her: the opportunity to practice healing. He knew that on occasion she must have longed for her former life, though those times were often wrought with dangerous, even life-threatening, hardships. But Madlen never complained. She led a good life, and Johannes did everything he could to make sure she was happy and fulfilled. But sometimes, when she was discussing ailments or injuries with him or other people, he noticed that Madlen couldn’t help but recommend various medicinal herbs. She would withdraw from these conversations, leaving ill acquaintances or sometimes doctors to their own devices, only after Johannes gently prompted her to do so. He realized it was likely frustrating to have the knowledge to help others, only to be discouraged from sharing it.

  Johannes sighed. He knew that he had to concentrate on the murders, but his mind kept wandering to his wife and that doctor. What did he look like? Was he an old man, a crazy old goat in his waning years, who simply wanted to convey the knowledge he’d acquired in the course of his long life to his young students? Yes, that’s who he was. But what if he wasn’t? Johannes was a few years older than his wife, but despite that they’d fallen hopelessly in love seven years ago. Their marriage was completely different from many others because their decision to marry had been a mutual one. Johannes was quite happy not to have entered into a halfhearted, loveless relationship. But what if the doctor wasn’t much older, or only a little bit older than Madlen, like Johannes himself? The study of law and medicine took a long time. It was possible that this Franz von Beyenburg was the same age as Johannes. And he was a doctor, the kind of professional whom Madlen admired above all. Plus, he imagined this doctor was around her all day, while Johannes was forced to remain in Cologne.