This wasn’t the right moment to indulge in jealous fantasies. Before them the wharves of the raft landing appeared. He was surprised to note that the place was deserted at this hour except for some rats scurrying across wet planks. From the Danube the stench of fish, algae, and decay rose up, and alongside the wharves, rafts bobbed lazily up and down in the water, their boards creaking as the languid current knocked them against the posts. Music and laughter echoed from nearby taverns-evidently the sounds of raftsmen tying one last one on before early-morning departures.
Just then they heard footsteps behind them, and Nathan pulled Simon out of sight behind some wine vats stored on the dock waiting to be loaded onto another vessel. A few moments later two guards came into sight, halberds slung over their shoulders, unshaven faces exhausted and red from alcohol. They looked bored as they sauntered from one end of the landing to the other.
“Damn it! What are they doing here?” the beggar king cursed. “I don’t pay the outlandish bribes so these village idiots can come around here looking for a lady friend for the night!”
Simon looked at him with consternation. “You paid a bribe-”
“Why else do you think it’s so quiet around here?” Nathan interrupted. “Two silver pennies for the pier warden to put his men down for a nap. But just for half an hour, so please be quick!”
No sooner had the two guards rounded the next corner than Nathan took hold of the astonished medicus and, crouching, ran with him toward another group of barrels next to the warehouse. The containers were positioned so that a small passage ran between them, one not directly visible from the raft landing. At the end of the passage they came upon a crate as tall as a man, old and smeared with tar; a tangle of nets spilled out of it. It smelled so strongly of rotten fish that Simon instinctively put his hand over his nose and started to gag. Paying the stench no heed, Nathan raised the lid with a creak.
“Follow me, keep a low profile, and pull the lid shut after you.”
Horrified, Simon watched the beggar king pull himself up to the edge of the crate and climb inside. There was a clattering sound, and then only silence. Simon peered inside in disbelief to discover that Nathan was nowhere to be seen.
What the devil…?
“Damn it all to hell, where are you?” The voice of the beggar king echoed strangely from very far away, farther in any case than the crate was deep.
Simon heaved himself over the edge, climbed inside, and closed the lid as instructed. Everything went pitch black at once; the foul odor of fish and guts rose around him as if he’d landed inside the belly of a whale. The medicus felt some matted nets under his feet and, as he groped around, discovered that one hung down farther than the rest. Carefully he crawled forward on his knees, patting the ground beneath him as he went, until he came upon a hole no wider than a man’s hips through which the end of the long net dropped. The net served as a sort of rope ladder leading down into bottomless darkness.
Hand over hand, Simon made his way down the slimy rope ladder until he felt solid ground beneath his feet.
In front of him Nathan held a burning lantern in his hand and grinned. “I almost thought you’d gotten yourself tangled in the net like a fat carp,” he whispered. “Now come along.”
They hurried down a narrow corridor hollowed out of the damp earth that was so low in places Simon had to duck to avoid hitting his head. Here, too, the stench of fish and algae reigned, but a fresh breeze blew in from somewhere in front of them, and water dripped from the ceiling onto Simon’s collar.
“An old escape tunnel crossing under the Danube,” Nathan explained. “It runs all the way over to the Upper Wohrd, the island in the middle of the river, and then past that to the north riverbank, where the Electorate of Bavaria begins.” He giggled. “The bailiffs are flabbergasted about how we manage to smuggle so many goods across the river when customs are so strict on the bridges. If we wanted, we could clean out the whole city.”
The beggar stopped so abruptly that Simon almost ran into him. His eyes glinted coldly, out of place on his otherwise friendly face, and his golden teeth flashed in the lantern light as he whispered.
“If you should ever betray our tunnel, you’d best know that we’ll find you. Wherever you are. We treat traitors to our cause to slow deaths. Think of human leather…”
“I-wouldn’t even dream…” Simon stuttered.
“So much the better,” Nathan said, and continued walking. “I don’t distrust you, but I have to make sure you understand.”
Again he giggled, and the medicus followed him with a sigh. Simon couldn’t quite figure Nathan out: one minute he treated him like a friend, and in the next his manner was cold and calculating.
Who’s to say he’s not just leading me into some trap? Simon thought.
When they arrived at the end of the corridor, another rope ladder led up through a narrow shaft. Again Nathan went first and, after arriving at the top, pushed a large black object to the side. Surfacing behind him, Simon recognized it as a rotting wooden fishing boat that lay hidden in underbrush not far from the shore.
The medicus took a deep breath of the fresh night air and looked around. By the light of the full moon he spotted a lowlying grassy island that stretched up and down the Danube. To one side he could make out the Stone Bridge in the moonlight where it connected to the island by a dam. Nearby were several large warehouses and other buildings attached to crumbling jetties that led down to the dark, rushing current. Mill wheels revolved, clattering and squeaking, causing something to pound inside the various buildings like the snore of a mighty giant.
“The mills on the Wohrd,” the beggar king whispered reverentially. “Do you hear that? The sound of the future! It will never cease to astonish me what man is capable of.” He pointed at the rattling and whirring wheels that, like enormous machines, cut furrows through the river along the shore. “Sawmills, paper mills, textile mills, and naturally the large grain mill. Do you see the house over there with the gabled roof? The largest mill in all of Regensburg! The freemen are expecting you there. I’ll stay here and wait for you.”
Simon hesitated. “Why don’t you come along?”
Nathan made an apologetic gesture. “They told me in no uncertain terms to stay outside. They’re a bit fussy about their anonymity. To be honest, I don’t really want to know who they are. It would only bring me grief. Now go before they grind you to bone meal in their millstones.” He gave Simon a last wink before he disappeared into a nearby bush.
Once the medicus had looked all around and noticed nothing out of the ordinary, he started walking past piles of logs and wooden shacks toward the towering mill. An enormous water wheel was attached to the front, extending into the Danube and turning with an earsplitting clatter. From inside the building the pounding and rattling mill mechanisms were so loud they drowned out nearly every other sound.
At the back of the building Simon finally discovered a door left slightly ajar. Inside, soft moonlight filtered through tall windows, illuminating sacks of grain, worm-eaten wooden tubs, and old millstones stacked high on either side of the entryway. Narrow paths wound between the sacks and into the dark interior, while farther back a millstone as big as a wagon turned with that dreadful grinding sound. Simon could feel a fine, soft dust beneath his feet as he groped his way along the widest path through the building.
“Hey, is anyone here?” he called out, feeling instantly foolish. Who would ever hear him over all this racket?
Or maybe nobody is supposed to hear me, Simon thought with growing fear.
The deafening noise suddenly ceased, and silence reigned in the cavernous room-a silence almost more troubling than the grinding and pounding of the machines. The only thing audible now was the soft sound of grain trickling to the ground.