Morbus Dei: The Sign of Aries. Matthias Bauer

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СКАЧАТЬ Prussian’s wife, who had died in her husband’s arms. He would never forget the expression in his friend’s eyes as Josefa’s body lay suddenly lifeless on the bench beside him.

      Had it been worth all of that?

      Elisabeth had been captured and, according to Karl, had been dragged towards a black carriage. All at once Johann felt an indescribable emptiness, as though the ground had been pulled out from under his feet and he were about to plummet into nothingness.

      Had it been worth all of that?

      No.

      And at the same time, yes!

      II

      The windows and doors of the magnificent salon of the town hall were all tightly shut in spite of the warm, early summer weather. Jakob Daniel Tepser, Mayor of Vienna, ran his hand through his dishevelled hair. The representatives of the city council and high clergy, who were sitting with him round the oak table, looked away in silence. It was a black day for all.

      The mayor took a deep breath. ‘Have I understood you correctly, Lieutenant Kampmann? Not only was the wanted deserter, Johann List, responsible for the slaughter of Pater Bernardus Wehrden of the Dominicans and his nuncio and our esteemed Jesuit Superior, Pater Albert Virgil, but he also set fire to the quarantine district while it was being evacuated, is that correct? And now I hear he has the blood of Special Envoy Ferdinand Philipp von Pranckh on his hands too?!’

      Kampmann nodded sheepishly. He had taken over command of the City Guard following the mysterious death of Lieutenant Schickardt, who was found shot dead in a little graveyard outside the gates of Vienna.

      ‘And to cap it all, he seems to have outwitted your men and escaped on some damned Protestant’s skiff–is that what you’re telling me?’

      The Lieutenant looked at the Mayor in silence. Tepser, who turned bright red in the face, banged his palm down on the table. ‘I should have you demoted to a damned bootblack on grounds of incompetency!’

      ‘With due respect,’ retorted Kampmann in a low voice, ‘we have successfully carried out all the tasks assigned to the City Guard. The district has been cleared and the sick disposed of. By the time we’d got wind of the deserter’s escape, it was already too late. Not even the Lord God himself could have …’

      ‘One more word out of you, Lieutenant, and I swear …’ said the Mayor with an angry snort, glancing round the table.

      The captain of the Central Patrol was managing to look as if none of this was any concern of his, which incensed Tepser all the more. He would give him a good talking to afterwards. There were reports that three Central Patrol men had not only aided and abetted the deserter’s escape but had also vanished with him.

      Bishop Harrach motioned for calm. ‘What’s happened, has happened, gentlemen. We need to concentrate all our efforts now on helping our citizens return to the tranquil, pious lives, which were their salvation before the terrible escalation of events.’

      ‘Yes, exactly, before the escalation of events,’ added Tepser, combing his hair backwards with his fingers. ‘I shall travel today to the spring residence in Laxenburg in order to personally inform his Majesty, our Kaiser, of the regrettable course of events. In view of Vienna’s prime importance to the realm, I am confident his Majesty will share our opinion that it would be best to omit the occurrences of the past days and weeks from our chronicle so that they are blotted out.’

      Tepser gazed solemnly at all those present and they nodded in agreement.

      ‘So be it. A state funeral will be held for von Pranckh with full military honours et cetera. And let’s get it over and done with as quickly as possible so that we can put that behind us too!’

      Lieutenant Kampmann nodded as well.

      The Mayor got to his feet. ‘So, gentlemen, as our Kaiser is in the habit of saying: consilio et industria! Thank you, gentlemen.’

      III

      The constant rush of the river had a soothing effect on the passengers of the barge. Johann was sitting on the outer ledge of the cabin gazing at the swell of the current. His anger had worn itself out and his memories had receded, and even though his feeling of inner emptiness remained, his thoughts were clearer at last.

      He had got his revenge sure enough for von Pranckh was dead, and he had avenged the death of his comrades, who had been put to death following the mutiny. But at what price? Granted, von Pranckh had got his comeuppance but that wouldn’t bring back his dead comrades. And Elisabeth, the love of his life, had ultimately been denied him.

      Johann leant overboard, dipped his hand into the icy water and washed his face. All at once he realised there was only one more thing he still had to do: find Elisabeth and wrest her from the clutches of the Dominican henchmen. After that he would have no qualms about answering for his deeds before the Lord–and this he would surely do when his time came.

      The Prussian let out a moan and in his delirium seized the bandage round his thigh. Johann sat down beside him and loosened his friend’s grasp. ‘Stick it out, my friend,’ whispered Johann, ‘there’s still something we’ve got to do.’

      Johann gently covered him with a felt blanket though there were already beads of sweat on his forehead.

      Stick it out.

      He gazed starboard where the setting sun had daubed the sky a delicate orange. Count von Binden came towards him and pointed towards the bow. ‘We’re almost there, you can already see Deutsch-Altenburg.’

      Johann looked ahead. In the distance he could see a few low-built houses visible on the starboard shore.

      ‘Leave the talking to me,’ said the Count. ‘I know the people round here.’

      They moored the barge at the jetty, from where they could see the crooked, but solid-looking cottages on shore. Three of the Count’s men were standing guard at the end of the gangplank in order to deter curious onlookers and beggars. Not far away some children could be seen playing with a rusty barrel hoop.

      Johann waited patiently at the Prussian’s side, though it already seemed an eternity since the Count had gone ashore with his daughter. Hans and Karl were standing silently on the bow, keeping an eye open for potential trouble.

      The sun had almost set by the time von Binden came hurrying along the landing stage with a man carrying a black bag. They quickly came aboard.

      The barber surgeon had dishevelled, snow-white hair, an elongated face and hands like shovels. Without a word, he sat down beside the Prussian, opened an old, battered-looking bag that contained a selection of silver instruments, and checked the man’s breathing and pulse.

      Johann, Hans and Karl looked on anxiously.

      The physician wrinkled his brow, which was covered with age spots, and examined the dark red bandage on the man’s thigh. ‘Bullet wound, I take it?’

      Johann nodded. The physician pulled a face.

      ‘I shall have to loosen the bandage,’ he said, the Bohemian accent in his husky voice as unmistakable as the stench of wine on his breath. ‘If the bleeding has stopped and the lead bullet hasn’t exploded, then there’s still hope. But if the blood starts gushing out, then not even the high-born, personal physician of our -’ he cleared СКАЧАТЬ