The Hangman's Daughter Part 27

"What about the bailiffs?" he asked, trying to buy time. His throat was hoa.r.s.e. "There are sentries at the building site both day and night."

"That's your problem." The devil turned to go. "Same time tomorrow I'll be back. By then you have the treasure or else..."

He shrugged, almost apologetically. Then he ambled off toward the pond.

"What about your patron?" the hangman shouted after him. "Who is behind all this?"

The devil turned around one more time. "You really want to know? There's enough trouble in your town as it is, don't you think? Maybe I'll tell you once you hand me the treasure. Maybe the man will be dead by then, however."

He strode off across the damp green meadows, leaped over a wall, and soon vanished in the thick forest by the river.

Jakob Kuisl fell onto the bench and stared into s.p.a.ce. It took him some time to notice the blood that was dripping from his hand. He had clenched the rock so hard that its edges had dug into his flesh like knives.

Johann Lechner arranged the papers on his desk on the upper floor of the Ballenhaus. He was preparing for the upcoming meeting of the council, which he a.s.sumed was to be the last for quite a while. The clerk wasn't going to kid himself. The upcoming arrival of His Excellency, Count Sandizell, the Elector's secretary, would spell the end of Johann Lechner's influence. He was merely acting as a proxy here. Count Sandizell would start all over and certainly not content himself with one single witch. There was unrest in the streets already. Lechner had been told by a number of people that they would take sacred oaths that the Stechlin woman had jinxed their calves, brought hailstorms down upon their crops, and made their wives barren. Only this morning, Agnes from Steingaden had grabbed him by the sleeve in the street and whispered in his ear, her breath reeking of wine, that her neighbor Maria Kohlhaas was also a witch. She herself had seen her fly across the sky on a broomstick the night before. Johann Lechner sighed. If worse came to worse, the hangman would indeed have busy days.

The first aldermen were arriving in the well-heated council chamber. Richly dressed in their robes and fur caps they took their a.s.signed seats. Karl Semer gave Lechner an inquisitive glance. He might have been the town's presiding burgomaster, but in official business he fully relied on the clerk. This time, however, it seemed that Lechner had failed. Semer pulled him by the sleeve.

"Any news of the Stechlin woman?" he asked. "Has she finally confessed?"

"Just a moment." Johann Lechner pretended he was signing an important doc.u.ment. The clerk hated these stuffed moneybags, these puppets, who only held their office by virtue of their birth. Lechner's father had been a court clerk as well and so had his great uncle, but no court clerk before him had ever been that powerful. The post of the district judge had long been vacant, and the Elector's secretary came to the town only occasionally. Johann Lechner was smart enough to let the patricians keep the illusion that it was they they who ruled the town. Who really ruled was he, the clerk. Now, however, his power seemed to be wavering, and the aldermen sensed it. who ruled the town. Who really ruled was he, the clerk. Now, however, his power seemed to be wavering, and the aldermen sensed it.

Johann Lechner continued to arrange his papers. Then he looked up. The patricians looked at him expectantly. To his left and right were the seats of the four burgomasters and the superintendent of the almshouse, and farther on were those of the other members of the inner and outer council.

"Let me get right to the heart of the matter," Lechner began. "I have called this council meeting because our town is in a state of emergency. Unfortunately we have not so far been able to make the witch Martha Stechlin talk. Only this morning the witch fell back into a swoon. Georg Riegg hit her on the head with a rock and-"

"How is that possible?" old Augustin interrupted, turning toward Lechner, his blind eyes glistening. "Riegg was in jail himself on account of the fire at the Stadel. How can he throw a rock at the Stechlin woman?"

Johann Lechner sighed. "Well, it happened, so let's leave it at that. Anyway, she hasn't regained consciousness yet. It's possible the devil will take her before she can confess her crimes to us."

"Why can't we just tell the people that she's confessed?" burgomaster Semer murmured, mopping his sweaty pate with a silk kerchief. "She's dying, and so we burn her for the welfare of our town."

"Your honor," Johann Lechner hissed. "That would be a lie before G.o.d and His Serene Highness, the Elector himself. We have witnesses present at every interrogation. Shall they all swear false oaths?"

"No, no, not at all. I was only thinking...as I said, for the benefit of Schongau..." The first burgomaster's voice grew fainter and finally trailed off.

"When can we expect the Elector's secretary to arrive?" old Augustin queried.

"I have sent messengers," Lechner said. "The way things look, His Excellency Count Sandizell will give us the pleasure of his presence as early as tomorrow morning."

A groan pa.s.sed through the council chamber. The patricians knew what was in store for them. The Elector's secretary complete with his entourage would settle in the town for many days, if not weeks. It would cost the town a fortune! Not to mention the endless interrogations of suspicious burghers concerning witchcraft, and until the true perpetrators had been found, anyone here could really be in league with the devil. Even the aldermen and their wives...During the last great witch hunt, a number of respected burghers' wives had been among the victims. The devil drew no distinction between a servant girl and a landlady or a midwife and a burgomaster's daughter.

"What about that Augsburg wagon driver we arrested on account of the fire at the Stadel?" the second burgomaster Johann Puchner asked, nervously drumming his fingers on the table. "Is he involved in the matter at all?"

Johann Lechner shook his head.

"I interrogated him myself. He's innocent. Therefore I released him this morning after giving him a severe warning. At least the Augsburgers won't give us trouble anytime soon. They got what was coming to them. But the Augsburg wagon driver did see that soldiers were fooling around at the Stadel..."

"Soldiers? What kind of soldiers?" old Augustin asked. "This story is getting more confusing by the minute. Please explain yourself, Lechner."

Johann Lechner briefly contemplated telling the aldermen about his discussion with the hangman down by the building site. Then he decided against it. Matters were complicated enough. He shrugged.

"Well, it seems as though a gang of marauding rogues have set fire to our storage shed. The same rogues also destroyed the building site for the leper house."

"And now they're roaming around killing little children and painting a witches' mark on their shoulders," old Augustin interrupted, impatiently rapping his stick on the expensive cherrywood floor. "Is this what you're trying to tell us? Lechner, pull yourself together. We have have the witch! All we need now is her confession!" the witch! All we need now is her confession!"

"You're misunderstanding me," the court clerk said, trying to calm the irate patrician. "These soldiers most likely caused the fires. But of course it's the devil and his helpmate who are responsible for the death of our children. The evidence is clear. We have found magic herbs in the Stechlin woman's house, the children frequently called on her, and there are burghers who will testify that she introduced the children to the art of sorcery...All we need is her confession. And you know as well as I that the Const.i.tutio Criminalis Carolina Const.i.tutio Criminalis Carolina stipulates that only someone who confesses may be sentenced." stipulates that only someone who confesses may be sentenced."

"You need not lecture me on the Criminal Code of Emperor Charles. I know it sufficiently well," Matthias Augustin murmured, his blind eyes roaming in the distance and his nostrils dilating, as though he could perceive a distant stench. "I smell it again, the flesh of the burning women, just like it was seventy years ago. By the way, a district judge's wife died at the stake then..."

Hawklike, the blind man swung suddenly around toward the court clerk. Lechner turned to his doc.u.ments again and replied quietly, "As you know, my wife died three years ago, and she is beyond all suspicion. If that's what you're alluding to."

"And what if we subject the witch to the water test?" suggested the superintendent of the almshouse, Wilhelm Hardenberg. "They did that in Augsburg a few years ago. The witch's thumbs are tied to her toes and then she's thrown into the water. If she floats to the surface, it's because the devil is helping her, and she's a witch. If she sinks, she's innocent, but you're rid of her anyway."

"d.a.m.n it, Hardenberg," old Augustin yelled. "Are you deaf? The Stechlin woman's unconscious! She'll sink like a stone! Who's going to believe in this water test? Certainly not the Elector's secretary!"

For the first time, young Jakob Schreevogl spoke now. "Why do you consider it such a bizarre idea, Augustin, that the soldiers might have murdered the children? Several witnesses observed a person leaping out of a window of my house at the time my Clara vanished. The man was wearing a bloodred doublet and a feathered hat, such as soldiers often wear. And he had a limp."

"The devil!" Berchtholdt the baker started up, crossing himself. So far, it seemed, he had been sleeping off last night's brandy. "Holy Virgin Mary, help us!"

Some other aldermen murmured quick prayers and crossed themselves.

"You're just taking the easy way out blaming it all on that devil of yours," said Jakob Schreevogl amid the general grumbling. "He's a solution for it all," he interjected. "But one thing I know for certain!" He rose to his feet and looked around angrily. "My Clara wasn't abducted by a monster with cloven feet but by a flesh-and-blood human being. The devil wouldn't be stopped by a locked door, nor does he jump out of windows. He doesn't wear a cheap soldier's hat, and he doesn't meet soldiers in Semer's inn for a mug of beer."

"Whatever gives you the idea that the devil frequents my house?" cried burgomaster Semer, jumping up. His face had turned bright red, and beads of sweat stood out on his forehead. "That is an insolent lie, and you're going to pay for it!"

"The young physician told me. He saw the man who abducted my Clara going up the stairs in your establishment and into one of the conference rooms." Jakob Schreevogl looked the burgomaster calmly in the eye. "He met someone there. Might that have been you?"

"I'll shut that Fronwieser up, and you at the same time!" shouted Semer, slamming his fist on the table. "I won't have my inn reviled in such c.o.c.k-and-bull stories."

"Pull yourself together, Karl, and sit down again." Blind Augustin's voice was low and yet quite cutting. Stunned, Semer resumed his seat.

"And now tell us," Matthias Augustin continued. "Is there any truth in these...insinuations?"

Burgomaster Semer rolled his eyes and took a deep swig from his winegla.s.s. He was obviously struggling for words.

"Well, is it true?" the second burgomaster Johann Puchner insisted. And Wilhelm Hardenberg, the superintendent of the almshouse, now turned to the respected landlord of the Stern Inn. "Karl, tell us the truth! Were there meetings of soldiers under your roof?"

There was a general murmuring at the council table. Some members of the outer council on the back benches began talking.

"This is a perfidious lie," burgomaster Semer finally snapped. Sweat was streaming down his face and into his lace collar. "It's possible that a few former soldiers were at the Stern. I have no way of checking that. But none of them went upstairs, and they certainly didn't meet anyone there."

"Well, that settles it," Matthias Augustin said. "Let's therefore turn to more important things again." His blind eyes turned toward the clerk. "What are you going to do now, Lechner?"

Johann Lechner looked at the undecided faces of the aldermen to his right and his left.

"To tell you the truth, I don't know. Count Sandizell will arrive here tomorrow morning. If the midwife hasn't talked by then, may G.o.d have mercy on us all. I fear...we should pray tonight."

He rose, packing away his quill and ink. The others rose, too, hesitantly.

"I'll go now and prepare everything for the count's arrival. Each of you will have to contribute. And as for the trial of the witch...we can only hope."

Lechner hurried out without a goodbye. The aldermen, talking animatedly, followed in groups of two and three. Only two patricians remained in the council chamber. They still had some urgent matters to clear up.

Slowly, the devil ran his bony hand over Magdalena's dress, brus.h.i.+ng over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and following the line of her neck up to her slender chin. As he reached her lips, she turned away, rolling her eyes. The devil smiled and pulled her head toward him again. The hangman's daughter was lying in front of him on the ground, tied up and gagged with a dirty rag. Her eyes flashed angrily at the man above her. The devil blew her a kiss.

"Very well. Very well. Just carry on being fresh, and we'll both have more fun later on."

A man appeared in the clearing behind them. He stood there for a moment, cautiously, then cleared his throat. It was the soldier Hans Hohenleitner.

"Braunschweiger, we should get out of here. Christoph was over in the town. People say the count's going to show up in person tomorrow on account of the witch. Then the place's going to be crawling with troops. Let's have some fun with the girl, and then off we go. It's enough that Andre is dead."

"And the treasure? What about the treasure?"

The devil whom they called Braunschweiger turned around. The corners of his mouth were twitching, as if he hadn't got full control of his face.

"You seem to have forgotten the treasure! Besides, Moneybags still owes us a whole lot of money!"

"To h.e.l.l with the money. He gave us another twenty-five guilders yesterday for the destroyed building site and the Stadel fire. That's more than enough. There's nothing more to be gotten here."

Christoph Holzapfel, the third soldier, approached them. Long, s.h.a.ggy black hair hung in his face. Furtively, he glanced at Magdalena, who was lying on the ground, struggling with her shackles. "Hans is right, Braunschweiger. Let's go. There is no treasure. We've searched the entire d.a.m.ned building site, we've turned over every single rock, and by tomorrow the count's men may be combing the forest here."

"Let's move on," Hans Hohenleitner said again. "My head's more important to me than a handful of guilders. They got Andre, and that's not a good sign, may his d.a.m.ned soul rest in peace. But beforehand, let's have a little fun..." He stooped down to Magdalena. When his pockmarked face appeared right above her mouth, she could smell brandy and beer on his breath. His lips were distorted into a sardonic grin.

"Well, sweetheart, do you feel a little twitching in the loins too?"

Magdalena's head shot forward. Her forehead hit Hans right on the nose, which exploded like a ripe fruit. Blood spurted forth.

"You d.a.m.ned filthy s.l.u.t!" Whimpering, the soldier held his nose, then he kicked the girl in the stomach. Magdalena doubled up, trying to choke back the pain. They mustn't hear her scream. Not yet.

As Hans was about to kick her a second time, the devil restrained him.

"Cut it out. You're ruining her pretty face. And then we'll have only half as much fun with her later on, eh? I promise I'll show you things that are too dirty even for the Prince of Darkness."

"Braunschweiger, you're a sick man." Christoph Holzapfel shook his head in disgust. "All we want is some fun with the girl. I've had enough with the b.l.o.o.d.y mess you left behind in Landsberg." He turned away. "Just have your fun with her, and then let's clear out of here."

Magdalena doubled up, ready for the next blow.

"Not yet," the devil mumbled. "First let's get the treasure."

"d.a.m.n it, Braunschweiger!" Hans Hohenleitner said, holding his bleeding nose. "There is no treasure. Can't you get that inside your sick head?"

The corners of the devil's mouth started to twitch again, and his head moved in a wide circle, as if he was trying to release some internal tension.

"Don't you ever call me...sick again, Hohenleitner. Never again..." His eyes darted from one soldier to the next. "And now I'll tell you something. We'll stay here one more night, just one more. You take the girl to a safe place, and I'll get you the treasure by tomorrow morning. You'll have ducats coming out of your a.r.s.e. And then we'll see to the girl, all of us."

"One more night?" Hans Hohenleitner asked. The devil nodded.

"And how are you going to find that treasure?"

"Leave that to me. You just take care of the girl."

Christoph Holzapfel stepped closer again.

"And where are we supposed to hide, huh? The place will be crawling with troops tomorrow."

The devil smiled.

"I know an absolutely safe place. They won't find you there. And you'll have a great view."

He told them the place. Then he set out for the town. Magdalena bit her lips. Tears were streaming over her cheeks. She struggled to turn her face away from the soldiers. They mustn't see her cry.

The two men were standing near the building site watching the workmen. Some of the bricklayers and carpenters waved to them. Perhaps they were wondering what business the two men had here, but they didn't harbor the slightest suspicion. The two men there were respected burghers. Presumably they just wanted to see for themselves how the construction was proceeding.

There wasn't much left to see of the last day's damage. The walls of the leper house were being raised again, and there was a new roof truss on the walls of the chapel. Two bailiffs were sitting at the edge of the well in the middle of the clearing, killing time by playing dice. The court clerk had ordered the entire area to be guarded day and night, and his orders had been quite precise, as usual. They had nailed together a wooden shelter for the bailiffs, where they could get cover from the rain. There were lanterns hanging on the outer wall of the shelter, and two halberds were leaning next to them.

"And you have really searched the entire place?" the older man was now asking.

The younger man nodded. "Everything. And several times. I really don't know where else we could look. But it has to be has to be here somewhere!" here somewhere!"

The other man shrugged. "Maybe the old miser was lying. Maybe he was delirious on his deathbed. An old man's feverish ravings, and we fell for them..."

He groaned loudly and held his side. He had to bend over briefly for the pain to subside. Then he turned to walk away.

"One way or another, the matter is over and done with."

"Over and done with?" The younger man ran after him, grabbed him by the shoulder, and turned him around. "What do you mean, over and done with? We can still keep looking. I haven't paid the soldiers in full yet. For just a few more guilders they'll raze everything to the ground here and root about like hogs. The treasure is somewhere here. I...I can feel it!"

"d.a.m.n it, it's over and done with!" The older man pushed the younger man's hand off his shoulder almost in disgust. "The area is under surveillance. Besides, you've stirred up enough dirt as it is. Lechner knows about your soldiers, and the hangman and that Fronwieser fellow are on your heels. They stick their noses into everything. They even went to see the priest. It's too much of a risk for us. The matter is over and done with, once and for all!"

"But..." The younger man held him back another time.

Indignantly, the older man shook his head, holding his side once more. He gave a loud groan.

"I have plenty of other things to think about now. Thanks to your soldiers we'll have the count and his men in this town tomorrow. And presumably we'll have a big trial, people will be dragged off to the stakes again, and Schongau will go to the dogs. And all because of you, you d.a.m.ned idiot! I'm ashamed. For you and for our family. And now let go of me. I wish to go."

The older man stomped off, leaving the younger man behind at the building site in the mud. Mud was all over his s.h.i.+ny leather boots, but he wouldn't give up! He was going to show the others! A wave of anger came over him.

Some of the workmen waved at him, and he waved back, but they couldn't see his face, which hatred had turned to stone.