“You! You just can’t bear the fact that your brother is more successful than you are,” Georg burst out angrily. “Admit it, Father. Our uncle has really made something of himself here in Bamberg, and now he’s marrying the daughter of a city secretary, while back in Schongau you’re still cleaning garbage from the street. And that gets under your skin.”
Jakob looked down at the reeds on the floor, and spat. “Better to have your feet in the shit than to crawl up the perfumed asses of the noble gentlemen. By the way, that’s no way to talk to your father. What has your uncle taught you in the last two years?”
“More than you in ten.”
“Enough of this, now.” Katharina had jumped up and was glaring angrily at the father and son. “Perhaps some of you have forgotten, but we’ll be celebrating a wedding soon, and I want you all to get along. I invited you to Bamberg so Bartholomäus could finally be reconciled with his relatives. After all, we’re one family.” She pointed at Georg. “And you will apologize at once. That’s no way to speak to your father.”
For a while no one said a thing. Finally, Georg nodded. “Very well. I’m. . I’m sorry, Father.”
Jakob Kuisl remained silent, but Magdalena could see how he was struggling. He crushed his pipe stem between his teeth while exhaling little clouds of smoke like a smokestack. Finally, he nodded as well, but still not a word escaped his lips. Magdalena decided to change the topic and turned to Katharina.
“Was Bartholomäus already the Bamberg executioner back then, during the terrible witch trials?” she asked.
Katharina stared at her, at a loss. “I’m not sure. I was just a baby at the time. If he was here then, he couldn’t have been more than a young assistant, so it was no fault of his.”
“We hangmen are never at fault,” Jakob Kuisl said between two puffs on his pipe. “Even if the noble gentlemen wished we were. We are just the sword in their hands.”
“So Bartholomäus’s worries are actually justified.” Simon was thinking it all over as he slurped his strong brew. He, too, seemed glad that the quarrel between the father and the son had been put aside, at least temporarily. “If they really do set up a commission because of this werewolf, it won’t be long before the first burnings at the stake.” He turned to Jakob. “Think of Schongau. Wasn’t it your grandfather, back then, who beheaded and burned more than sixty women in that ill-fated witch trial? The whole town went crazy.”
“That was long ago,” Jakob growled. “The times were different.”
“Really?” Magdalena looked at her father, mulling it all over. “For my part, I pray that men have changed since that time. But I’m pretty skeptical. Even if-”
A knock at the door interrupted her words, and a shiver ran up her spine, as if something evil were lurking out there, demanding to be let in. The other members of the family looked questioningly at one another.
“Don’t worry,” Katharina said, trying to calm them. “That’s just my father. He insisted on picking me up personally today. After everything that has happened in the last few weeks, he doesn’t want me to walk alone through the dark backstreets.” She opened the door, and in stepped a portly gentleman wrapped in a heavy woolen cape with a hood, from which the rain dripped in little rivulets to the ground. A lantern dangling from his hand cast a dim, flickering light around him. Magdalena couldn’t suppress a smile. Katharina’s father looked as if someone had dumped a barrel of water over him, shrinking his clothing so it clung tightly to his body.
“Horrid weather outside,” he said, shivering. “Wouldn’t even allow a dog out in this weather.”
“Let’s hope it’s too wet and cold for the evildoers, as well,” Katharina responded with a smile. “You don’t look like you could scare them off very easily.”
She gestured to the others at the table. “But even in such terrible weather, we mustn’t forget our manners and ignore our guests. This is my father, Hieronymus Hauser. You already met Jakob earlier; behind him is Magdalena and her husband, Simon, and between them, that pretty young lady is Georg’s twin sister, Barbara.”
Hauser bowed politely, then he winked at Barbara. “I can’t say you look very much like your brother, but that isn’t necessarily a disadvantage.”
Jakob Kuisl laughed grimly. “You’re right, Master Hauser. Barbara is more like her mother.”
“Well, when it comes to corpulence, I’m more like my father,” Katharina lamented, rolling her eyes playfully. “I can count myself lucky that Bartl prefers bigger women.” She stretched, rubbing her tired eyes. “Excuse me, but the day has been long, and at the first light of dawn tomorrow we need to go back to preparing for the wedding. I’m afraid we must leave.”
Hauser nodded. “Yes, I think we must. The night watchman is just going by outside along the moat, and I’d like to join him. These autumn nights feel a bit eerie to me. .” He shook himself and turned to Simon. “I’d like to continue our talk sometime, in the light of day. They say you know something about books, and I have some at home that might interest you.”
Simon looked up at him, delighted. “Oh, of course! What are they, what-”
Magdalena yawned loudly. When Simon started talking about books, there was usually no end to it. “Katharina’s right, it’s already late,” she said as she stood up. “Besides, I promised to help her tomorrow.”
“I’m so glad for the help.” Her aunt-to-be smiled. “We must pick out the material for my dress and cut it to size, and given my figure, it will take a couple of rolls. Thank you very much, Magdalena.” She clapped her hands as if trying to scare off an evil spirit. “A little sleep should do everyone some good and drive away the gloomy thoughts, so let’s hurry and get to bed.” She wagged her finger in mock admonishment. “And remember, no more quarreling in the family. After the wedding you can rip each other to shreds, for all I care.”
Hauser frowned. “I hope there will be no occasion to do that. Or is there?” He looked all around. “Where is Bartholomäus, anyway?”
Katharina brushed off the remark lightly. “Oh, he’s just gone off to sulk a bit. It’s nothing serious, Father, believe me. I’ll tell you all about it on the way home.”
She put on her coat and hugged Magdalena once more. “Take care that Bartl and your father don’t squabble too much, will you?” she whispered. “It would be the best wedding present you could give me.”
Magdalena nodded silently, and with one last nod, Katharina and Hieronymus Hauser stepped out into the rain.
Everyone at table rose, each heading for their own bedroom, except for Jakob Kuisl, who remained, puffing rings of smoke and watching them rise slowly toward the ceiling. When Magdalena turned around one last time to look at her father, she felt as if she were being pursued by hordes of strange, hairy creatures with long fangs.
Then the beasts slipped out through cracks in the windows and disappeared into the night.
5
THE BAMBERG FOREST, MORNING, OCTOBER 28, 1668 AD
The yelping of the hounds echoed through the forest-a hoarse, endless, unsettling howl that got on Jakob’s nerves. It grew louder, then suddenly died away, then morphed into a growling and whimpering as the knacker Aloysius finally tossed the bloody pieces of meat they’d been begging for into their kennel.
The Schongau hangman watched with interest as the hounds, almost twenty of them, fought over the food. Most were agile hunting dogs with black, shiny coats; a few brawny mastiffs were kept in their own kennel next to the others. All the animals were muscular and well fed, baring their fangs as they growled and tore at the large pieces of meat until all that was left of the horse carcass was a few hairy scraps.
“Good dog, good dog,” said Aloysius cheerfully as if talking to some little lap dogs. “Here’s a little more for you. Enjoy it!”
He wiped his bloody hands on his leather apron, reached for a bucket of steaming innards, and tossed the contents into the enclosure. The dogs pounced on it, barking loudly. Jakob had met the inscrutable hangman’s journeyman the day before, when he and Bartholomäus had delivered the horse carcass. Since then, two goats and a pig had died of some mysterious disease. To avoid a possible epidemic, the law required all carcasses to be brought to the knacker in the Bamberg Forest as soon as possible, for processing and disposal.