by Iny Lorentz
“Linhard, my father’s former secretary. He saw me in church and called out my name. If he tells Rupert or Utz about it, we’re in real danger.”
Hiltrud wanted to know everything. “We have to be ready to flee at any time, but what will you do about Hedwig? If you bring her along, she’ll have to work as a prostitute.”
Marie had no answer. If Mombert was executed for the murder of young Steinzell, Hedwig would have no other choice. In the meantime, Marie had gotten to know her cousin well enough to suspect she wouldn’t be able to bear a harlot’s life for long. She wasn’t hard enough and would drown herself before the summer was over.
“You say he’s now a monk?” Hiltrud was seized by a sudden thought. “Then perhaps you’re sensing danger where there is none. Linhard may have recognized you, but is it certain he would also betray you? That he’s entered a monastery could mean he long ago regretted his crime against you and means to atone for it for the rest of his life.”
Marie had not considered that, but even if Hiltrud was right, they were far from being safe. Linhard might unintentionally tip off Rupert, or it was possible the counselor was keeping an eye on him and already knew what had happened. Marie realized she was inclined to imagine things, but when it came to her former fiancé, she was inclined to assume the worst. For a few minutes she wavered between fleeing and staying, but she finally decided that running away in panic wouldn’t do her any good. If she wanted to destroy Rupert, she’d have to risk her own life, if necessary.
She smiled bitterly. Rupert had made her a prostitute, but in so doing, he had also created ways for her to bring about his downfall. If he had put her in a nunnery, she never would have met Brother Jodokus or Count Eberhard von Württemberg.
IV.
Over the next few days, Marie’s moods changed faster than her customers. Sometimes she was afraid of her own shadow; other times she told herself that Rupert and Utz hadn’t yet recognized her, even though she was a well-known figure all over town, and they probably didn’t connect the well-known harlot from the Ziegelgraben with the young Constance woman whose life they had destroyed five years before. In these more optimistic moments, she reveled in her plans for revenge and imagined herself leading her uncle triumphantly out of his dungeon while casting Rupert and his henchmen inside. But this feeling of confidence never lasted long.
She had to admit she feared the future. No matter what happened, she was beyond redemption, like dirt in the street that everyone walked over. But before she met the same miserable end as most other harlots, she wanted to see the man responsible for all her misery go to his grave.
The next time she visited Württemberg, she begged him again to finally do something about Konrad von Keilburg and his brother. Count Eberhard raised his hands regretfully. “I’d love to do that, my girl, but at the moment my hands are tied. The kaiser is so occupied with his own plans that he would be annoyed if I summoned my troops and began preparations for a feud with the Keilburgs. He suspects resistance and treason and is very quick to anger. Now that John the Twenty-Third has been declared unworthy and removed from the list of popes, the kaiser must act against the next representative of God on earth.”
Eberhard von Württemberg laughed, and Marie wondered whether he was making fun of the quarreling popes or the kaiser.
Though she wasn’t interested in high-level politics unless she herself was in danger, in hopes of finally convincing the Württemberg count, she continued. “What does the kaiser plan to do now?”
“Next he plans to depose Pope Gregory. In addition, Master Jan Hus is a thorn in his side, and he views Hus’s inflammatory rhetoric as a threat to his crown. Don’t forget that Sigismund is also king of Bohemia, and it appears Master Hus is summoning the Bohemians to rebel against the holy church and its protector, the kaiser and king.”
Again it wasn’t clear if Eberhard von Württemberg shared the kaiser’s views.
Marie looked at the count with a frown and shook her head. “According to everything I’ve heard, Master Hus doesn’t preach against God and the divine order. When he decries the immorality of the prelates and the pompous behavior of the abbots and bishops, he is no doubt speaking for every true Christian. After all, these men have been elected to be Christian shepherds, not the church’s jailers.”
Count Eberhard smiled indulgently. “Don’t let anyone hear you talk like that, or you’ll also be considered a heretic. Views like that threaten the authority of the princes of the church, and thus the pope and the kaiser as well. The mighty see their position in the world and their task differently than you and Jan Hus, and perhaps even differently than common people. I, too, have heard Master Hus’s sermons and approve of much that he says. The church must be renewed from the ground up, and its representatives must be put back in their proper places, but Master Hus errs in believing his sermons can bring that about, and that someone standing high up in the clergy will willingly allow himself to be demoted. His greatest error, however, was in trusting Kaiser Sigismund’s promise of safe conduct. If the kaiser believes Hus has outlived his usefulness, then that promise is worth nothing.”
The count’s coarse language and bitter laugh told Marie how much he disliked having to pay homage to such an unreliable man. “If Sigismund of Bohemia were a sovereign ruler, then I could speak openly with him, but the Keilburgs stand in his favor, and Rupert Splendidus has been able to ingratiate himself as well. It is revolting how this upstart bows and scrapes before the kaiser and his close advisers.”
Suddenly falling silent, the count stopped, as if he’d already said too much. Nevertheless, Marie understood. Eberhard von Württemberg didn’t dare oppose Konrad von Keilburg because he didn’t know to what degree the kaiser wanted to see justice done. Worst case, he would approve Konrad’s theft and elevate Rupert’s standing even further. She felt like the ground was giving way beneath her feet.
The next morning brought news that spread like wildfire through the city. Pope Gregory XII renounced his title and withdrew to Recanati as Cardinal Bishop Angelo Correr. It was said that the kaiser, though unable to force this resignation militarily, had purchased it with generous concessions in order to secure his position as the supreme monarch of Christianity. The next person the kaiser had set his sights on could no longer hope for such concessions and mercy, however.
Jan Hus steadfastly proclaimed his views in his sermons. Many lower-class people and servants admired the combative master from Prague and prayed for him. The kaiser and the cardinals, however, didn’t like being branded as leeches and oppressors of the people, and had secretly condemned him.
There were so many rumors concerning Master Hus’s trial that those who had heard his sermons were still hoping he’d receive mercy even as the knight Bodman and the bailiffs of Constance led him to Brüel Field where he was to be burned at the stake. To humiliate Hus, the chief prosecutor in his trial ordered all the prostitutes in the city to accompany Hus to the stake. Most of the harlots just shrugged their shoulders, having been humiliated so often that they were happy to see someone worse off than themselves.
Marie would have loved to disobey the order but didn’t want to risk being dragged in front of the furious cardinal and whipped. People in town wouldn’t want to miss such a spectacle, and Utz would recognize her. Surely Utz had talked to Jodokus’s landlady in Strasbourg and learned that the monk had amused himself with a strikingly attractive blond prostitute shortly before his death; Utz would have made the logical connection between the hasty departure of this woman and the disappearance of the documents. Her life wasn’t worth a thing if he recognized her.
Hiltrud and Kordula lamented the imminent death of Master Hus while cursing the merciless judges and above all the treacherous kaiser who had broken his promise. Just the same, they went with Marie to the church square in front of Saint Peter’s where a huge number of harlots were gathered.
They went over to join Madeleine,
but didn’t have much time to talk, however, as the bailiffs soon appeared and ordered them to exit through the Scottish Gate, then line both sides of the street to allow Jan Hus to proceed toward the execution site. Marie was shocked to see Hunold among the bailiffs, passing so close that his elbow brushed against the breasts of the woman in front of her. Retreating, Marie hid behind Helma and Kordula. Hunold didn’t notice her, however, as he was eyeing Madeleine.
“Well, pretty little bird, how about getting together and having a little fun this evening?” he asked her.
The woman examined him disdainfully. “Gladly, if you can pay a gold Ecu. Otherwise you should visit the penny whores. They’d certainly enjoy a visit from you.”
Madeleine’s ridicule hit Hunold hard. Blushing, he glowered at her and uttered loud threats. When another prostitute demanded to know if he was aware he had just insulted a high French nobleman’s mistress, he quieted down and ran to catch up with the other bailiffs.
Hunold was a brutal, highly opinionated fellow, but Marie realized with a certain malicious glee that the bailiff only bullied people who couldn’t defend themselves, and bowed and scraped in front of higher-placed nobles. At any other time Marie would have asked herself how she could make use of that knowledge, but just then she wasn’t considering that. Instead, she joined all the other harlots and followed the bailiffs through the gate, standing so as not to attract the notice from the people accompanying Jan Hus.
Behind the harlots, so many ordinary citizens pushed through the gate that the bailiffs weren’t able to keep the crowd under control. Marie saw Michel in brightly polished ceremonial attire marching at the head of his foot soldiers to make room for the condemned man and his escorts. Though the soldiers pushed people back with their crossed spears, they still couldn’t keep order in the crowd. Even Count Palatine Ludwig tried in vain. When the count’s horse got stuck in the crowd, he ordered the knight Bodman, leader of the city guards, to close the city gates and allow onlookers out only in small groups. The condemned man and the court officials had to wait until the crowd had dispersed before they could leave town.
Little remained of the line of harlots that were intended to mock the renegade Bohemian Jan Hus. Marie, like other courtesans, had jostled up into the front rows next to the execution site, but she didn’t realize how exposed she was there until Rupert Splendidus passed by in the retinue of the bishop of Constance, Friedrich von Zollern. Fortunately, Rupert was interested only in the higher noblemen and paid no attention to the common folk. Trying to hide behind one of the tall horsemen, Marie watched him until he had smugly taken a seat on one of the benches for the high-placed council attendees.
His gaze wandering over the crowd, Rupert took pleasure in having people enviously watch him and see how Bishop Friedrich and the other noble guests treated him as their equal. It wouldn’t be long before he would be a frequent guest of the kaiser’s, perhaps even accepted into his circle of advisers. Rupert had even heard that some bishops and counts valued the younger son of Heinrich von Keilburg as a polite and agreeable nobleman in contrast to his uncouth brother. He assumed that many of their neighbors and most of his brother’s opponents would be relieved when he took his brother’s place.
Indeed, he would soon be able to carry out his plans to dispose of his brother. I succeed in everything I do, he thought to himself with a feeling of elation. Suddenly he remembered that there was a matter of great importance where he had met with unexpected resistance, though he still hadn’t been able to detect the culprit. Irritatingly, Mombert Flühi, his former adversary in the trial, was still alive, and his daughter hadn’t been found.
Hedwig’s disappearance, however, wasn’t Rupert’s fault. Smirking, he remembered how Abbot Hugo had confessed his plight and begged for his help. Why hadn’t the ass been able to wait? More than likely, the girl had been attacked by mercenaries, then dropped into the river, along with the false extradition order.
For a moment Rupert thought about the reason for Mombert Flühi’s persistent accusations. Hedwig looked a lot like Marie Schärer and had probably reminded him of the loss of his brother-in-law’s fortune. Marie had been a true beauty, but Rupert hadn’t cared about the girl’s fate. On the contrary, he was proud he could control his lustful desires. If he wanted to continue to amass wealth and esteem as the Keilburg heir, he couldn’t afford any human weaknesses.
Involuntarily, Marie watched her former fiancé, practically choking on her hatred. Drumrolls announcing the condemned man’s arrival tore her away from her murderous thoughts. All eyes now looked at the gate.
Walking behind a few monks carrying a cross and swinging censers, armed foot soldiers led Master Hus from the city. When the procession arrived at the open space around the pyre, Marie was able to get a better look at the Bohemian preacher. Standing tall, Jan Hus had an earnest face that betrayed no sign of fear. Dressed in a black robe of shame symbolizing hell, he also wore a yellow cap that showed two devils drooling at the mouth and the Latin inscription heretici.
Reminded of her own punishment, Marie felt an almost unbearable burning and itching on her back, and her gaze unwillingly wandered to Rupert. Unlike Hus, he had committed so many sins that Marie almost expected the earth to open and swallow him.
The condemned preacher was led to the stake, where Constance bailiffs tied him to the heavy logs and post in the middle. Hunold checked the condemned man’s shackles, spat at him, and jumped down from the pyre. Together with the other bailiffs, he dragged bundles of branches up to the pyre and piled them around the larger logs.
Just as Hunold selected a burning torch from the iron brazier, the count signaled him to wait. Horses’ hoofbeats could be heard on the pavement, and Imperial Marshal Pappenheim and three of his guards rode through a narrow passageway that the palatine foot soldiers were struggling to keep open. Just before reaching the pyre, Pappenheim reined in his horse and turned to Hus.
“His Majesty Sigismund, kaiser of the Holy Roman Empire, king of the Germans, and king of Bohemia, offers you the mercy of returning to the bosom of the holy church through renunciation of your heresy. Recant and you will live.”
A murmur went through the crowd, and some people applauded. But Marie had talked with Eberhard von Württemberger about Hus enough to recognize that Hus was being set up. Neither the kaiser nor the church dignitaries were interested in turning Hus into a martyr. They had simply shown him what they could do and were now giving him a way out. Yet if Hus recanted, then the power-obsessed abbots and bishops would have won. He would save his own life, but his followers would turn away and return to the Roman clergy on bended knee. If he didn’t recant, he would be burned at the stake as a warning to everyone else spreading similar heresies. Marie believed that Hus was right but doubted it was worth dying for. The strange smile on the Bohemian preacher’s lips revealed that he felt differently.
Hus looked at the Pappenheims and laughed. “No, I won’t recant! If I did, I would be admitting that truth is a falsehood and a falsehood the truth. Moreover, I’d free the kaiser from breaking his oath.” With that, and for all to hear, he was referring to the promised free conduct that was being broken.
“Search your soul and repent,” Pappenheim ordered again. Instead of a reply, the condemned man raised his arms heavenward and began singing a hymn.
The officials looked uncertain. The count palatine steered his horse over to the imperial marshal, and they spoke quietly for a few minutes. Finally, Pappenheim nodded with a grim face and pointed at Hunold next to the pyre, raising the torch ostentatiously in his hand.
“Bailiff, do your duty!” the count ordered, and steered his horse away from the flames. Hunold had carried out punishments for many people, but mostly they consisted of floggings of prostitutes and petty crooks. He had never burned anyone before, and he believed that tossing that torch into the pyre was the high point of his career. Now he was an important person who would be treated w
ith respect by patricians and wealthy merchants.
As the flames rose higher, Jan Hus continued to sing. Moved by the sound, some people joined in, without paying attention to the cardinals and bishops who shifted restlessly in their seats and didn’t seem to know whether to order the soldiers to drive the people away or let them continue. Marie looked away to avoid seeing the pyre. She wanted to escape, but being so boxed in by the crowd, she could scarcely breathe, let alone walk away.
Eventually, Hus’s voice died away, and only the crackling of the flames and the restlessness in the silent crowd were audible. Marie looked at the clergymen’s bench and could see that not everyone there looked satisfied. Even in death, Jan Hus stood taller than the church towers and had publicly branded Kaiser Sigismund as a perjurer.
People stayed and stared until the fire had burned out. The count then ordered the bailiffs to douse the smoldering embers and collect the ashes in a large iron bucket. A man standing near Marie told the bystanders that the remains of the heretic would be thrown in the Rhine.
“The bishops no doubt fear that a bird could carry a beakful of Hus’s ashes to Bohemia and give them to his followers,” he added with a smirk, and turned to leave.
Most people shook off their discomfort quickly and were able to laugh again as soon as they’d entered the city, but Marie remained near the blackened execution place, deeply mired in her gloomy thoughts.
Hiltrud had also left the field but returned from the city gate when she noticed that her friend was missing. Seeing Marie’s stony face, she tugged gently at her sleeve. “Wake up, Marie! You can’t remain standing here where every passerby will stare at you and wonder. Come on, let’s go home.”
Startled out of her reveries, Marie nodded. Hiltrud pulled her along and made sure they passed through the Scottish Gate hidden in a crowd of people. The guards paid no attention and didn’t stop them as they entered the city.