by Lorentz, Iny
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the authors.
Text copyright © 2014 by Iny Lorentz
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
The Wandering Harlot by Iny Lorentz, represented by Verlagsagentur Lianne Kolf, Tengstrasse 8, 80798 Munich, Germany, was first published in 2004 by Droemer Knaur, as Die Wanderhure. Translated from German by Lee Chadeayne. Published in English by AmazonCrossing in 2014.
Published by AmazonCrossing, Seattle
ISBN-13: 9781477823347
ISBN-10: 1477823344
Library of Congress Control Number: 2013923613
Cover design by Lindsay Heider Diamond
CONTENTS
AUTHORS’ NOTE THE MEDIEVAL PERIOD
PART ONE THE TRIAL
I.
II.
III.
IV.
V.
VI.
VII.
VIII.
IX.
X.
PART TWO BANISHED
I.
II.
III.
IV.
V.
VI.
VII.
PART THREE ARNSTEIN CASTLE
I.
II.
III.
IV.
V.
VI.
VII.
VIII.
IX.
X.
PART FOUR DANGEROUS TRAVELS
I.
II.
III.
IV.
V.
VI.
VII.
VIII.
IX.
X.
XI.
XII.
PART FIVE THE COUNCIL
I.
II.
III.
IV.
V.
VI.
VII.
VIII.
IX.
X.
XI.
XII.
XIII.
XIV.
XV.
XVI.
XVII.
PART SIX THE REVOLT OF THE COURTESANS
I.
II.
III.
IV.
V.
VI.
VII.
VIII.
HISTORICAL NOTES
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
ABOUT THE TRANSLATOR
AUTHORS’ NOTE
THE MEDIEVAL PERIOD
This novel takes place at the beginning of the fifteenth century toward the end of an era referred to as the European Middle Ages. This era lasted approximately one thousand years, from the fall of the Roman Empire in the late fifth century until just before the end of the fifteenth century. During these ten centuries, many ancient accomplishments were lost, but consequently Europe quickly developed politically, socially, and culturally, laying the foundation for everything that makes up today’s European and American culture and way of life.
In the center of Europe, the Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation was developing into an increasingly brittle colossus. Though its emperors regarded themselves as the successors of the Roman Caesars, their power was not great enough to fully control more than just a part of the empire. The imperial crown, however, came with such an aura of prestige that even Richard of Cornwall, the nephew of Richard the Lionhearted, aspired to it, though he failed in the attempt. The Habsburgs, whose dynasty reigned in Austria until well into the twentieth century, were more successful, but even they had to stand for election by the empire’s seven electors, and they did not always win.
At the beginning of the fifteenth century, Sigismund, the count of Luxemburg, who was also king of Bohemia and Hungary, was crowned emperor of the Holy Roman Empire. One of his greatest problems was defense of the Hungarian borders against attacks by the Ottoman Turks. Two further serious problems concerned religion. The secularization of the Catholic Church had continued to grow, and the bishops had risen to become mighty lords. And so it happened that around 1415, three popes were fighting over who was the true pope. Each of these three ecclesiastic lords had his followers and was supported by a different part of the European empire. At the same time, the church’s reputation had suffered grievously. For this reason, Kaiser Sigismund convened a council in the city of Constance in 1415, where the matter of the popes was to be settled once and for all.
At that time, Constance was a wealthy city with a population of about six thousand, well suited for such a council. Christendom was weary of the many popes, and so the usual negotiations began in which each party tried to keep the upper hand. Eventually it was agreed that all three popes would be deposed and a new pope elected. This was a success, and consequently antipopes were rare.
During the council, which lasted several years, up to sixty thousand visitors stayed in Constance—ten times the usual population. Most of them, chiefly belonging to the retinue of the ecclesiastic and secular lords, were men not accustomed to living chastely. Depending on the source cited, between eight hundred and fifteen hundred prostitutes were called to Constance, and moral standards in the entire city sank to such a low that the diplomat and minstrel Oswald von Wolkenstein declared: “Before the council, there were three whorehouses in Constance; afterward, there was only one, but it reached from one end of town to the other!”
This is the setting for the story of Marie Schärer, who is wrongfully condemned and then becomes a homeless prostitute.
Delegates from all over Europe—from England and Scotland, from Scandinavia, Spain, Poland, Italy, and, of course, from the Holy Roman Empire—attended the Council of Constance. During the council, the Bohemian reformer Jan Hus was arrested, condemned to death, and burned at the stake—despite the promise of safe passage. Kaiser Sigismund paid for this betrayal with an uprising in his kingdom of Bohemia that lasted nearly two decades. This cost him so much in money and men that despite favorable conditions at the outset, he could not extend his power in the Holy Roman Empire.
For a full six hundred years, the Frankish Empire, later East Francia, and the Holy Roman Empire had been the most significant powers in Europe. Now other empires were taking over, first Spain, then France, and eventually England. But this has nothing to do with the Middle Ages and concerns a new epoch.
And here, we meet Marie.
Iny and Elmar Lorentz
PART ONE
THE TRIAL
Constance, in the year of our Lord 1410
I.
Marie slipped back into the kitchen guiltily, trying not to attract attention, and went about her work. Wina, the housekeeper, had already noticed her absence and now beckoned her over with an admonishing glance. Laying her hand on Marie’s shoulder, Wina sighed deeply.
Ever since Master Matthis’s wife had died in labor, Wina had tried to take the place of a mother to Marie. A small, broad-framed woman with an honest-looking but severe face and braids that were beginning to show strands of gray, Wina hadn’t found it easy to raise Marie with the right mix of leniency and strictness, but until now s
he had been satisfied with Marie’s progress. The once-inquisitive and often-boisterous child had turned into an obedient and God-fearing young woman of whom her father could be proud. As soon as Marie had learned she was to be married, however, she had changed. Instead of merrily singing and dancing her way through the house, she was behaving erratically and going about her chores gloomily.
Other girls would have been thrilled to learn that a man from a good family was courting them. She could hardly have done better: her future husband was Counselor Rupert Splendidus, the son of a count. Despite his youth, Rupert was a well-known lawyer with a brilliant future ahead of him.
Wina assumed that the nobleman had chosen Marie because he needed an energetic wife able to manage a house with many servants; she took pride in having raised Marie to be independent and hardworking. The thought brought her back to the present. Preparations for the wedding were far from complete, and night was falling. She quickly handed Marie a mixing bowl.
“Here, stir this well so there are no lumps. Now tell me, where were you, anyway?”
“Out in the yard. I wanted to get a little fresh air.” Marie lowered her head so Wina wouldn’t scold her for the look on her face, or give her a confusing lecture on conjugal duties.
Marie couldn’t make Wina understand that she was terrified of the imminent change in her life. She had only recently turned seventeen, and, as her father’s only child, she had previously brushed aside all thoughts of marriage. But the following day she would have to give herself to a man for whom she hadn’t the slightest feelings, a man she’d met only once.
Rupert Splendidus was of medium height and thin, with facial features too sharp to be called handsome, though they were not outright ugly. But his eyes seemed to bore straight through everyone and everything, and when he’d greeted her, the limp feeling of his cold, almost lifeless hand had sent a shudder down her spine. Nevertheless, neither Wina nor her father would comprehend why the thought of marriage to the son of Count Heinrich von Keilburg did not send her into throes of ecstasy.
Since it appeared that Wina was about to launch into another lecture on proper behavior, Marie tried to change the subject. “The bales of Flemish cloth that the delivery wagon brought up today from the Rhine harbor are standing in the middle of the yard, and it looks like rain.”
“What? I can’t believe it! We’ve got to bring that cloth inside as soon as possible, and the porters are all down at the tavern celebrating your upcoming wedding. I’m afraid neither angry words nor flattery will bring them back. Let’s see if I can find one of the house servants and get him to at least throw a cover over the bales. In the meantime, continue with your chores.” The last few words were directed not just at Marie, but also at Elsa and Anne, the two maids who likewise were busy with wedding preparations.
No sooner had Wina left the kitchen than Elsa, the younger of the two sisters, turned to Marie, her beady eyes flashing. “I know why you sneaked off. You wanted to go see your sweetheart.”
“Herr Rupert is a good-looking man,” Anne added, batting her eyelashes.
As she put some wood on the fire, Anne gazed enviously at her master’s daughter. Marie Schärer was not only heir to a fortune, but with her angelic face, wide cornflower-blue eyes, and long blond hair, she attracted the attention of all young men. Her nose was just long enough to appear distinctive, her rosy lips were gently curved, her hips were gently rounded, and her breasts were the size of two juicy autumn apples. Her narrow waist and perfect figure were accentuated by the tight bodice of her simple gray dress. Most other young women could only hope to look as charming in expensive velvet and silk.
Marie shrugged uneasily as she noticed Anne’s eyes upon her. She didn’t have to look in the mirror to know that she was strikingly beautiful. In the last two years, almost every man in town had told her so. The compliments had not gone to her head, however, as the priest had told her that only inner beauty really mattered. Nevertheless, ever since the solicitor had come into her life, Marie asked herself what she was really worth without the glamour of her father’s gold. Rupert had asked for her hand even before he knew her, and she therefore assumed he sought her as a wife for reasons other than her appearance or virtues. Or had he seen her before and fallen in love? Things like that did happen, but if it that were the case, Marie thought he would have behaved differently toward her.
Meanwhile, Anne was looking at her own reflection in the shining top of the copper soup kettle and realizing that she was just as colorless and insignificant as her chubby sister. Most young men preferred brides who also came with a substantial dowry, yet the two of them owned little more than the clothes on their backs. Their only hope was to find suitors who would settle for a helping hand instead of physical beauty or wealth.
When Marie compared her fate with that of the two sisters, she was pleased and proud to be considered such a good catch. At the same time, how could she be happy with a man like Rupert Splendidus, who consorted with important councillors and princes of the church and was probably just marrying her for her dowry?
She tried to imagine what it would be like to live day after day with a man who didn’t really love her and for whom she had little affection. Wina and the priest had assured her that love would come in time and all she had to do was to try to be a good wife. That shouldn’t be so difficult, for she had never had strong feelings for a young man before, except perhaps for her childhood playmate Michel Adler. As the fifth son of a taverner, however, he was as poor as a church mouse and therefore out of the question as a husband. She did wonder why her father hadn’t promised her to one of the other local men she knew from church, or to a business partner’s son, as was done generally in well-to-do families in Constance. Instead, he was giving her away to a total stranger with whom she had barely exchanged even a few polite words.
Marie was ashamed of her timidity. Most girls were married to men whom they had scarcely known beforehand, yet they were happy brides and wives. She knew that her father wanted only the best for her and could certainly judge whether the counselor was a suitable match. She just wished he had asked her. With a soft hiss, she thrust the spoon into the bowl and pounded the dough furiously.
Just then, someone banged against the front door.
“Who wants something from us at this hour?” Anne said indignantly, then yawned.
The two sisters stared at each other, but as usual, Elsa lost the silent duel and left the room sullenly to open the door. Shortly thereafter she returned with Michel, who was struggling under the weight of a large beer keg.
He set the keg down on the table and breathed a sigh of relief. “Good evening! I’m bringing the beer for the wedding.”
Elsa hissed angrily. “Couldn’t you have waited until tomorrow morning for that? Now Anne and I have to drag the heavy barrel down to the storage cellar.”
Her sister gave the young man a simpering smile. “Michel isn’t such an impolite fellow that he’d make us weak girls haul such a heavy thing down to the cellar, would you? You’ll be good enough to take it for us.”
Michel folded his arms in front of his chest and shook his head. “That’s not my job. I’m only supposed to bring it over here.”
“What’s gotten into you? You always used to be so helpful. Do you want to be like your stupid brothers?” Anne looked at him resentfully, and the two girls picked up the keg and carried it down the narrow stairway to the provision cellar, groaning and moaning. The last thing Marie heard was the trapdoor closing. Then she was alone with Michel.
“Do you love him?” he asked.
The question was so unexpected that Marie at first simply looked at him in astonishment. His face was pale, and he was clenching his teeth so tightly that his jaw muscles popped.
Three years older than she was, Michel had let her watch him fishing, played hide-and-seek with her sometimes, and told her wonderful stories. In return, she’d made him wre
aths of flowers and idolized him like a king. But since his father was of a far lower social rank than her own father, she had been forbidden to spend time with him after she turned twelve. Since then, she’d only seen him in church.
Now, standing close before him, she noted his high forehead and square jaw and saw that though he’d gotten taller and his shoulders broader, he was unnaturally thin under his smock. Surely his father could feed him better. With a touch of sadness, Marie thought that Michel could easily become a handsome man. But that wouldn’t be of much good to him, since as the fifth son, he counted no more than a servant and would never be able to support a family of his own.
His question was insolent, but for the sake of their childhood friendship, she replied. “Though I hardly know the counselor, he must be the right match for me since my father chose him.”
She was angry at herself even as she spoke the words, wishing she had been honest with Michel. Eyes flashing, he didn’t seem to like her answer, and Marie wondered if he was jealous. That wouldn’t be very smart of him, she thought, because he surely knew that her father would never accept Michel as her suitor. Matthis Schärer had even turned away his secretary, Linhard Merk, who came from a good family of merchants. Marie still remembered how furious her father had been that Linhard had dared to ask for her hand in marriage, temporarily firing him before realizing he was indispensable and reinstating him.
Marie was glad that her father hadn’t accepted Linhard’s proposal. The secretary bowed and scraped to her father like a serf to his noble master, but he treated the coachmen and servants condescendingly. She knew she wouldn’t have been happy with that unpleasant man, and in comparison considered herself lucky to be marrying a refined gentleman like Counselor Rupert.
Her abrupt words and dismissive manner did not dissuade Michel. “Does he love you?”
Offended by his tone, Marie responded brusquely. “I assume so. Otherwise he wouldn’t have asked for my hand.”
Michel stepped closer and looked at her earnestly. “Do you really believe you’ll be content as his wife?”