“My God, it’s the werewolf!” the terrified servant shouted, stepping back a few paces and knocking down some of the others as he fell to the floor. “Our suffragan bishop is a real werewolf! Oh, God, be with us, the devil is in our midst!”
Then the entire hall erupted in chaos.
12
BAMBERG, NINE O’CLOCK AT NIGHT, NOVEMBER 1, 1668 AD
Up on the Cathedral Mount, the fog had been getting thicker and thicker. The damp air made Magdalena’s clothes cling to her, as if trying to prevent her from getting any closer to her father and uncle.
Matheo was imprisoned in St. Thomas’s in the Old Residence, a huge enclave on the cathedral square surrounded by high walls on all sides. Years ago, kaisers, kings, and bishops had resided there, and meetings of the parliament had been held there as well. Now the Old Residence was not much more than a large horse barn and arsenal, but the meeting room for the city council, and the former main room of the castle, gave evidence of the great power centered there in the past.
The three of them passed by a chapel recessed into the wall, then snuck quietly by the council chamber until they reached the so-called Schöne Pforte, which served as the entrance to the old enclave. During the day, there was much hustle and bustle as people entered and left-workers, coachmen, and soldiers on patrol on the opposite side, where construction was proceeding on the bishop’s new residence. But at night, and in the heavy fog, practically no one was around-just two lonely guards stood watch at the gate, tightly clutching their halberds as if struggling not to keel over with boredom and exhaustion. The only light was a single lantern hanging on a hook on the wall, swaying back and forth in the wind. The cathedral bells struck the ninth hour.
“We have to get by the two of them, we can’t avoid that,” whispered Bartholomäus, sweating profusely under his werewolf costume. “And then there are probably some more guards inside-I have no idea how many tonight. I hear that the captain has a unit he can call up for special occasions. If they’re busy down in the city now, perhaps we’ll have an easier job of it.”
“One thing at a time,” Jakob grumbled, turning to Magdalena. “It’s important to get to them before they can sound the alarm, or our beautiful plan is going to fall apart at the very beginning. Is there anything you can do to distract the fellows for a while?”
Magdalena smiled and batted her eyelids. “That shouldn’t be too hard for me.” She swayed her hips suggestively from side to side. “What do you think?”
“For God’s sake, don’t overdo it,” her father scolded. “What would Simon think? A little flirting should be enough.”
“Believe me, a little flirting won’t get very far with these men. I’ll have to pour on the charm.”
Without any explanation, Magdalena pulled a yellow scarf out from under her jacket and tied it around her head. Adeptly, she pulled her bodice down so far that her breasts almost popped out.
“Damn it, girl, you’re not going to-” he started to say.
But Magdalena had already stepped away from the wall and started sashaying toward the entrance. Soon she stepped into the light of the lantern, and the guards looked at her suspiciously.
“Hey, you,” they called to her. “What’s the matter with you? Don’t you know it’s way past curfew?”
“Some people don’t even start work until after curfew,” she cooed, smiling and swaying her hips as she drew closer. Only then did they see the yellow scarf over her head that identified Magdalena as a whore. The fatter of the two guards grinned lewdly.
“Aha, Hans, just look, we have an important visitor,” he said, bowing slightly. “It looks as if the beautiful lady has lost her way. The Rosengasse is, as far as I know, down below near St. Martin’s.”
“That can happen easily with fog like this,” said his colleague, a pimply youth who surely had not yet touched many women in his young life. Lewdly he stared at Magdalena’s low neckline. “But since she’s already here. .”
“You know, we could arrest you and throw you in the dungeon,” the fat man said to Magdalena, shaking a finger at her in jest. “Fortunately, there’s already someone there whom you surely don’t want to meet, unless you like to have sex with animals.” He let out a dirty laugh.
“I’d much prefer a couple of strapping lads,” she replied, fluttering her eyelids. “What would you say if I gave you two handsome boys a special price, hmm?” She stroked her bodice, and the young man gaped, sheep-like, at her.
“Well, we’ve got to stand guard here until the shifts change,” he said hesitantly. “Maybe later. .”
“Later, I’ll be back to turning tricks on the Rosengasse.” Magdalena smiled. “Besides, who’s going to notice? I hear that the captain and the other guards are down at the castle. They just left you two poor devils up here?”
“You forget our three colleagues in the Old Residence,” the fat man chimed in. “But you’re right, it’s not fair. The people down below are having a party, drinking and watching the play, and we’re standing around here in the damp and the fog, tired and ready to drop.” He grinned. “Ah, but I know what we can do. One of us will stand here to guard the gate while the other can go over to the little alley next to the cathedral with you and see what you have to offer. We’ll switch off.”
Magdalena gave him her sweetest smile. “What a wonderful idea. I should have thought of that. So, which of you two handsome lads will go first?”
Even before she asked, she was sure it would be the fat one. She walked ahead, swinging her hips back and forth while the heavy man followed, groaning and snorting. He left his halberd behind, leaning against the wall.
The guard grinned expectantly. Soon, he was sure, he’d get to use his other lance.
In the meantime, skinny Hans remained standing in front of the gate, imagining vividly what he would soon be doing with the woman.
Hans was seventeen years old, and actually he’d never seen a naked woman before-with the exception of his mother, of course, a fat old linen weaver, but that wasn’t a pretty sight. With trembling lips, he imagined the shapely woman with the wild black locks and how he would soon slip his hand under her skirt. What would he find down there? Friends had told him the strangest stories about the female sex organs; they spoke of a quick little mouse hiding there, but they were probably just pulling his leg. Well, he’d soon find out. Hans had five kreuzers in his pocket, and that should suffice for a first voyage of discovery.
He listened anxiously, full of expectation for his turn that was about to come. Suddenly he heard a muffled cry that probably came from fat Jonas, his father’s friend and colleague. Was that part of this great secret? People shouted when they made love-he’d heard that also from his mother, who, in years past, had rolled around with his father under a sheepskin blanket in the room. It was the only heated space in the house, so the eightmember family had to use it as a common bedroom. Their parents’ bed was separated from the children’s beds by nothing more than a thin curtain full of holes, and sometimes Hans had the feeling that his mother was crying with pain. Now, too, what he heard were not shouts of rapture, but rather. . panic? Yes, they were clearly cries of horror. Was that also part of the game? And what were they doing there all this time?
Shivering, Hans rubbed his cold hands together. A year ago, when he’d taken this job with the city guards, he thought he’d find real adventure. But for the most part what he did was pick up drunks in the streets and stand guard for hours on end until his feet were killing him. And if the captain was putting together an elite squad for some secret mission, as he had just a few days ago, Hans naturally couldn’t be part of that. It was driving him mad.