As Magdalena walked briskly through the Sand Gate and from there across the City Hall Bridge, she noticed that a huge crowd of people had gathered down by the harbor on the opposite side. She heard shouts and jeers and, at regular intervals, loud cheering. As she approached the crowd, she could see that the people had assembled around the cranes usually used to load the ships. At that very moment a crane was lifting something up into the air.
What in the world. .
To her horror, she saw that it wasn’t a barrel or a crate, but a bearded man in plain-looking clothes hanging on a rope and dripping with water. The rope was tied around his waist, and he was kicking and thrashing about like a fish on a line. His body was lowered toward the river, and people broke out in cheers as he gurgled and disappeared again beneath the waves.
“Mother, what are the people doing?” Peter asked anxiously, while his younger brother Paul watched the scene, clearly amused.
“I’m not sure, Peter,” Magdalena replied. “But whatever it is, it isn’t good.”
The hangman’s daughter was familiar with such scenes in Schongau and other cities. Occasionally, bakers who made bad bread were put in a cage and dunked a number of times in the water until they nearly drowned. They called that baker’s baptism, and it was one of the less harmful punishments an executioner had to carry out. Magdalena also knew, however, that her grandfather would take convicted child killers to a pond outside the Schongau city walls and hold them under water with a long pole until they were dead. The spectacle here at the harbor seemed more like an execution. She looked around but couldn’t find either Bartholomäus or Georg. At the edge of the crowd, two guards were leaning against a barrel of pickled herring, watching the sight before them, clearly not certain what to do. Magdalena ran over to them.
“What’s happening here?” she asked.
One soldier just shrugged. “The man is an itinerant peddler,” he replied, picking his nose. “He was hawking wolf claws as a protection again these werewolves, but people say he’s one himself.”
“People say. .” Magdalena frowned. “And for that they practically drown him?” She poked the guard angrily in the chest. “Where are the officials, anyway? Where is the executioner? The man at least has to be questioned.”
The guard just smiled, unsure of himself. “Oh, come on, he’s not going to die-and even if he does, so what? He’s just a stranger in town. You can understand what the people are doing. They’re terrified because of this werewolf.” He looked at her suspiciously. “And who are you? I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”
“I am-” she started to say, but her answer was swallowed up in a deafening roar from the crowd. They were cheering now as the peddler was dunked in the water again. Evidently the man couldn’t swim; he just thrashed about with his arms and finally, with a loud cry, slipped beneath the water. After what seemed like an eternity, two strong young men standing by the crane laughed and hoisted him back up again. The man was noticeably weaker and was having trouble moving.
“Damn it! Do something,” Magdalena shouted at the guards. “The poor fellow almost drowned.”
When the two just waved her off with a bored gesture, she made up her mind. She’d have to get her uncle. As the executioner, Bartholomäus surely had some standing in town, especially when it came to executions. Perhaps he could put an end to this activity.
Magdalena knew that at this hour Bartholomäus and Georg would likely still be at work in the city dungeon, where they would be cleaning and preparing the cells to receive any additional suspects. The dungeon was in a small lane not far behind the wedding house, but with the two small boys it would take her much too long to get there, and by then the peddler would probably be dead. She quickly looked around, and her gaze fell once again on the wedding house.
Barbara.
Her younger sister could surely keep an eye on the two boys for a short time. Magdalena knew there was a passageway in the wedding house leading to the Wild Man tavern and from there to the street behind.
Without paying any further heed to the guards, she made her way, holding both boys by the hand, past the shouting and cheering crowd until she finally entered the open door of the wedding house. Once she was inside the courtyard, things were noticeably quieter. Breathlessly she knocked on the narrow door next to the entrance to the tavern, and after a while it opened. She was greeted, however, not by her sister, but by an astonished Jeremias. It appeared he had been sleeping.
“Magdalena?” he asked, rubbing his eyes. “Why are you so out of breath?”
“I have no time to explain,” she gasped. “Is my sister here?”
Jeremias shook his head. “Unfortunately not. She’s upstairs with the actors, but she’ll soon be coming back. It seems that Malcolm is very pleased-”
“Do me a favor,” Magdalena interrupted. “Please keep an eye on my two boys for a while. I have to go and see my uncle. It’s urgent.” She turned to Peter and Paul, who were staring at the crippled old man with a mixture of fascination and horror. “This is Uncle Jeremias,” she said. “He may look a bit strange, but he’s very nice, and he’s got some exciting stories to tell. You stay here with him for a while, and I’ll be right back.”
“Uncle, why did someone pull off your skin?” Paul asked.
Jeremias sighed and sat down to explain, but Magdalena was already gone and out of earshot.
She ran through the tavern past astonished revelers, knocking over a beer stein, and finally slipped through the rear door, finding herself on the street in back. From there, she turned right and soon reached the city dungeon, a gloomy, one-story building with barred windows that she’d seen before on her trips to the market. At the entrance she almost bumped into Georg, who was just leaving. He looked tired and his shirt was filthy-evidently he had just finished his work inside.
“Georg,” Magdalena called out with relief. “How fortunate I am to meet you. I’m looking for Bartholomäus.”
Georg frowned. “Why were you all so concerned about Bartholomäus today? Father was out looking for him, and he didn’t come back until a quarter hour ago. And now you’ve come here doing the same.”
“Because I need him urgently to save a life.” Speaking hurriedly, she explained to her surprised brother what was happening down at the harbor.
“And there are no city authorities there?” he asked in astonishment. “No burgomaster, nobody from the city council?”
Magdalena shook her head. “Only two guards who don’t want to get involved. We have to work fast or they’ll drown the poor man like a kitten.”
Georg paused to think. “Well, Uncle Bartholomäus left a while ago to go to the knacker’s house in Bamberg Forest. Damned if I know why he’s been going out there so often in recent days. Father followed him, and it looks like they had a fight. Father seemed very, very angry.” He looked at her with a grim expression. “And in the meantime, Uncle Bartholomäus left all the dirty work for me.”
Magdalena kicked the door, furious. “Damn it! You hangmen are never there when you’re needed.” She hesitated. “Perhaps you can do something yourself to make sure things are all right down at the harbor.”
“Me?” He stared at her, wide-eyed. “I think you’re vastly overestimating what I can do. I’m just an ordinary hangman’s servant.”
“But someone has to help this poor man.”
Georg sighed. “Very well, I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll go to the guards’ office at city hall. The chief, Martin Lebrecht, is a good man, and if anyone can help you, it would be him. As much as I’d like to, there’s no more I can do.”
He embraced his sister again, then ran down the street toward the city hall and disappeared around the corner.