Morbus Dei: The Sign of Aries. Matthias Bauer

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      The wind had come up and it was chilly as the day drew to a close. The inhabitants of Deutsch-Altenburg were making use of what remained of the daylight to finish off their business for the day.

      The Prussian ran his fingers through his hair. He still didn’t know what to make of the fact that he now had animal blood coursing through his veins. But still, he was alive.

      Whether that was a curse or a blessing was another matter.

      He saw Johann perched on an overturned tree trunk on the riverbank and went over to him.

      The men sat and watched the ebb and flow of the river and the crests of the waves dancing in the wind, each lost in his own thoughts.

      ‘I’m going to start looking for Elisabeth the day after tomorrow,’ said Johann at last.

      ‘I can’t say yet whether I’ll be–’

      Johann made a deprecatory gesture. ‘It’s my problem, not yours. I only waited until I was sure you were going to make it. It would be better for you to rest a bit longer.’

      ‘We’ll see,’ grunted the Prussian, scratching a large scar on his face that extended as far as his left ear. ‘That quack doctor smeared some sort of herbal mixture on the wound. It itches like hell but it seems to be healing alright.’

      ‘I don’t even know where to start looking,’ exclaimed Johann, who was preoccupied with his own thoughts. ‘I can’t go back to Vienna–they’ll string me up before I get within a mile of the city walls. And if the carriage has already left the city, then she could be anywhere.’

      ‘I’d speak to the Count, he seems to have a few contacts. And he’s a man of honour, he’s proven that,’ said the Prussian.

      ‘Yes, who would have thought it of a blue blood!’

      ‘And a Protestant to boot’ added the Prussian drily.

      They grinned, remembering Elisabeth’s consternation when she had first met von Binden.

      ‘There’s one thing clergymen are really good at,’ said the Prussian, ‘and that’s killing off anyone who’s different, it doesn’t matter whether he’s a Protestant, Jew or outcast.’

      ‘I’ve known a few good ones though,’ retorted Johann. ‘Men like Father von Freising or Burkhart von Metz. Just and strong, always ready to fight for the weak with word and sword.’

      ‘But they have no say,’ answered the Prussian. ‘It’s the same as it was with us in the army–what’s the point of a soldier having a conscience when someone like von Pranckh is giving the orders?’

      ‘But we did something about, didn’t we?’

      ‘And where did it get us? Von Pranckh made it to the top and almost nabbed us in Vienna. Wars against anything or anyone different will continue until doomsday,’ said the Prussian, lowering his voice. ‘And it’s the weak who end up being out of pocket for they have to pay with their lives.’

      ‘Heinz–’

      The Prussian waved him away. The two men were silent. It was dusk soon afterwards and they went inside.

      VI

      Count von Binden pressed a coin into the ragged man’s hand. The man bit it quickly and then dashed off as fast as his legs would carry him.

      Von Binden went towards the physician’s hut, where Hans, Karl, Markus and Johann were gutting the fish they had caught that morning in the river. Johann looked at him expectantly. ‘Well?’

      ‘The black carriage left Vienna the same day,’ said the Count. ‘Together with two waggons, covered with tarpaulin. They were heading south apparently.’

      Johann jumped to his feet. ‘Thank you. Then–’

      Von Binden waved him off. ‘Not so fast. The expedition was escorted by more than a dozen mercenaries.’

      ‘A dozen?’ exclaimed Karl in astonishment. ‘What are they escorting that’s so important?’

      ‘No one knows. Or wants to know. But apparently it’s got something to do with the pestilence that broke out in the city.’

      Johann racked his brain. There was something in von Binden’s words that struck him: a carriage, two other waggons–mercenaries–and suddenly memories surfaced and he was back on that ill-fated day.