Magdalena raised her basket and package apologetically. “I didn’t mean to disturb you, I just forgot something, and then I saw-”
There was a scratching and scraping in the box, and something was squealing softly. Markus appeared to be thinking for a moment, but finally he uttered a sigh of resignation and stepped aside.
“May I introduce you to Juliet? But promise not to tell Sir Malcolm about this.”
Magdalena looked puzzled. “Juliet? I’m afraid I don’t understand. .”
Without answering, Markus lifted the lid and pulled out a small, wriggling bundle of fur. It took a while for Magdalena to realize it was a ferret. She laughed with relief.
“This is Juliet?”
Markus nodded and lovingly petted the squirming little animal. “I found her last spring in the forest, along with her brother Romeo. They were the only ones in their litter to survive. The others were probably eaten by wild boars. That old philanderer, Romeo, unfortunately ran away some time ago, but Juliet stayed with me. She’s rather friendly-see for yourself.”
Markus opened his hand carefully, and the ferret climbed up his right arm to his shoulder, where it sat down and scrutinized Magdalena with beady red eyes. There was an animal intelligence in its gaze that reminded Magdalena of a rat. Alert, in a strange way. .
Evil?
Magdalena shook her head, and Markus looked at her, surprised.
“What’s the matter? Don’t you like ferrets? They’re pretty smart. You can easily train them to chase rats.” He shrugged with the other shoulder. “Unfortunately, Sir Malcolm can’t stand animals-ferrets, martens, weasels, all the little creatures that live in the forest. He says they transmit diseases. What nonsense. I think he’s just afraid of them.”
“Well, they do need a place to live,” Magdalena replied hesitantly. “Ah. . especially when they’ve been tamed.”
“If Sir Malcolm finds Juliet, he’ll put her in a sack and throw her into the river. Please don’t tell him anything.” Markus petted the ferret, which was still sitting on his shoulder like a kitten. “I’m hiding her here among the stage props until I can find a better place for her. I’ve really become very fond of Juliet.”
Magdalena smiled. “I’ll be as silent as the grave, I promise.” After a few moments she asked, “How long do you intend to stay here in Bamberg?”
“Well, probably all winter.” Markus put the squirming ferret back in her cage and closed it carefully. “That’s what all itinerant actors do. In the winter it’s too cold to get around. We were here in Bamberg just last May, and evidently the bishop liked our performances, as he has given permission for the troupe to spend the winter. The innkeeper here in the wedding house is very cordial. He’s reserved the dance floor for our rehearsals and shows and provided a few rooms where we can spend the night.” He grinned. “Of course, it brings him business, too. During the shows, people drink as if there’s no tomorrow.”
Magdalena suddenly had an idea. “You say you were in Bamberg once before?” she asked. “Do you happen to know anything about all the abandoned houses in the city? We noticed them when we arrived yesterday evening. It seems rather. . weird.”
“The abandoned houses?” He appeared to hesitate. When he continued, his eyes looked a bit sadder. “Indeed, they do seem strange-silent witnesses to an enormous crime. Perhaps the most violent this part of the country has ever seen.”
“What sort of crime?” Magdalena asked.
Markus looked at her, perplexed. “You really must be from someplace far away if you never heard of the Bamberg witch trials. It was more than thirty years ago. I myself was just a kid at the time and lived with my parents and siblings in Nuremberg, forty miles away. But even there, everyone was talking about the horror that took place here.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice, as if he didn’t want anyone to hear. “Almost a thousand innocent people in Bamberg and the neighboring towns were accused of witchcraft and put to the stake-men, women, and children. Some were just simple people, but some were noble-men; a few were burgomasters, and there was even a chancellor. The prince-bishop and his henchmen were beside themselves with rage, and nobody could stop them. Not even the pope and the kaiser.” He paused and looked into the distance. “What a tragedy. The events would have been good material for a play, an especially bloody one.”
“And the homes of the condemned are still empty?” Magdalena asked in disbelief.
Markus shrugged. “For a long time, people thought the houses were haunted. It was said that the innocent people who were tortured and burned would wander as ghosts through their former homes. Then the buildings fell into disrepair, and now it’s probably just too expensive to restore them.” He sighed. “Bamberg really has its best years behind it. I’ll be happy when we can leave the city again in the spring.”
Magdalena looked out the window, down at the marketplace where the fishwives were still loudly extolling their wares. The early-afternoon sun shone down mildly on the Regnitz, where a small boat was sailing calmly toward the city hall; in the background, the mighty spire of the cathedral rose up into the mist and low-lying clouds. Everything appeared so peaceful-but it seemed to Magdalena that, since her visit to the market, a gray shroud had descended over the city. Even from up here she could see some of the burnt ruins, the gangrenous wounds of a dying city. War, plagues, witch trials. . Would Bamberg ever recover from the many horrors of past years?
Suddenly, Magdalena felt a chill in the cold building, and goose bumps appeared on her bare arms. She picked up her basket and package, and bowed slightly.
“I enjoyed meeting you, Master Markus,” she said, “even if your story was a rather sad one. Until tomorrow, then, at the performance.” Suddenly her face broke out in a smile. “Oh, and say good-bye to Juliet. Perhaps I’ll bring her some treats on my next visit.”
Magdalena turned and hurried down the stairs toward the wide portal. Not until she reached the bustling harbor did warmth gradually return to her arms and legs.
4
BAMBERG, NOON, OCTOBER 27, 1668 AD
For the first time in weeks, Simon felt truly liberated.
The medicus and bathhouse owner wandered aimlessly through the narrow lanes, breathing in the smells of the city-not exactly pleasant, but at least interesting. The prevailing stench of garbage and feces did not completely mask the smell of the river, the sour wine, and the ever-present beer in the taverns, and as he passed through one of the many market squares, he thought he could even smell a faint hint of clove and nutmeg in the air.
In recent years, Simon had felt more and more confined in Schongau; that was the main reason he had decided to close his prosperous bathhouse for a while and accompany the Kuisls on the long trip to Bamberg. He understood the risk of doing that, as a second bathhouse had opened in town, and in the past year a new doctor had even set up business. Simon considered the man a complete charlatan, but that didn’t keep people from buying his highly overpriced and worthless tinctures and medications-just because the man had studied in the exotic city of Bologna on the other side of the Alps.
As Simon strolled through the little back streets-dodging carts and passersby and struggling in vain to avoid stepping into the deep piles of garbage in his new, freshly polished leather boots-his thoughts wandered back to Ingolstadt, where he had studied long ago. That’s where he had met Samuel, who came from a Jewish family that had converted to Christianity years ago. Samuel was smart and well read. But, just like Simon, he had a fondness for a good jug of wine, expensive clothing, and, above all, gambling-a passion that had led the two young students to many a disreputable tavern and had finally cost Simon his expensive place at the university. After just three semesters he had spent all his money on drink and gambling and had to return home to Schongau-a failure for which his father, the Schongau medicus Bonifaz Fronwieser, had never forgiven him.