shoulder.
Simon could sense that Clemens Kratz had come up behind him. Filled with hate, the father stared at the sign.
“The Stechlin woman did that to him. And that Sophie,” he hissed. “For sure. They should burn them—burn them both!”
The physician tried to calm him. “Stechlin is in the keep, she couldn’t have done it. And Sophie is still a child. Do you really believe that a child—”
“The devil has got into that child!” cried Mother Kratz from behind. Her eyes were bloodshot from weeping, her face pale and puffy. “The devil is here in Schongau! And he’ll carry off other children!”
Simon looked once again at the faded mark on the boy’s back. No doubt, someone had tried to remove it, without success.
“Did any of you try to wash this mark off?” he asked them.
Kratz crossed himself.
“We have not touched the devil’s mark, so help me God!” The other members of the family shook their heads and signed the cross too.
Simon sighed inwardly. He wouldn’t get any further here with logical arguments. He took his leave and went out into the darkness. Behind him he could still hear the sobbing of the mother and the murmured prayers of the old grocer.
At the sound of a whistle Simon turned around. His eyes searched the alley. At the corner a small form was leaning against the wall of a house and beckoning to him.
It was Sophie.
Simon looked around, then he entered the narrow alley and bent down to the girl.
“You got away from me last time,” he whispered.
“And I’ll get away from you again this time,” replied Sophie, “but now just listen: a man asked for Anton, just before he was stabbed.”
“A man? But how do you know…?”
Sophie shrugged. A slight smile passed over her lips. Simon wondered for a moment what she would look like in five years’ time.
“We orphans have eyes everywhere. That saves us from beatings.”
“And what did he look like, this man?”
“Tall. With a coat and a broad-brimmed hat. There was a feather in the hat. And across his face there was a long scar.”
“And that’s all?”
“His hand was all bones.”
“Don’t lie to me!”
“Down by the river he asked a few raftsmen where the Kratzes’ house was. I was hiding behind the trees. He kept his left hand under his coat, but once it slipped out and I saw it shining white in the sun. A skeleton hand.”
Simon bent farther down and put his arm around the girl.
“Sophie, I don’t believe you. It would be best for you to come with me now…”
Sophie tore herself away. Tears of rage filled her eyes.
“Nobody believes me. But it’s true! The man with the hand of bones cut Anton’s throat. He wanted to meet us down at the Lech Gate, and now he’s dead.” The girl’s voice became a whimper.
“Sophie, we can…”
With a quick turn the girl escaped from Simon’s arm and raced away down the alley. After a short distance she had already disappeared into the darkness. As he started to chase after her, Simon realized that the purse with the money for new clothes was missing from his belt.
“You damned little—” He looked at the heap of dirt and rubbish in the alley. Then he decided to dispense with a pursuit this time. Instead he went home, so that he could finally get a good night’s sleep.
CHAPTER
5
THURSDAY
APRIL 26, A.D. 1659
SEVEN O’CLOCK IN THE MORNING
MAGDALENA WAS LOST IN THOUGHT AS SHE WALKED along the muddy road across the Lech Bridge and toward Peiting. In the bag she had slung across her shoulder she was carrying some dried herbs and the quantity of Our Lady’s Powder she had ground yesterday. A few days ago she had promised to deliver the powder to midwife Daubenberger. The old woman was past her seventieth year and not very steady on her feet. Still, in Peiting and its surroundings she was the village midwife whom one called upon for help with difficult deliveries. Katharina Daubenberger had helped hundreds of children into this world. She was famous for her hands, with which she’d pull the most stubborn little imp into the light of day, and she was regarded as a wise woman, a healer, eyed suspiciously by priest and physician alike. But her diagnoses and her treatments were usually correct. Magdalena’s father had often sought her counsel. His gift of Our Lady’s Powder was a token of gratitude; and he was soon going to need one herb or another from her.
When Magdalena passed by the first houses in Peiting, she noticed that the peasants turned around to look at her and were whispering. Some crossed themselves. She was the hangman’s daughter, and the villagers feared her. Many of them suspected she was having it off with Beelzebub. And they had heard that her beauty was based solely on a bargain with the prince of darkness. What he had received in return for it was nothing less than her immortal soul. She let people hold on to their illusions. At least it kept away obnoxious suitors…
Without a second thought for the peasants, she turned into a lane on the right and soon stood before the small, ramshackle house of the midwife.
At once she noticed that something was wrong. The shutters were closed despite the beautiful sunny morning, and some of the herbs and flowers in the little garden in front of the house were trampled. Magdalena approached the door and pushed the latch. The door was locked.
By now she had realized that something was fishy. Goodwife Daubenberger was known for her hospitality. Magdalena had never found her door locked. All of the women in the village could call upon the old midwife anytime.
She knocked vigorously on the heavy wooden door.
“Are you in, Goodwife Daubenberger?” she asked. “It’s me, Magdalena from Schongau! I brought you Our Lady’s Powder.”
After quite a while, the gable window was opened. Katharina Daubenberger looked down at her with a suspicious eye. The old woman looked worried. There were more furrows on her face than ever. She looked pale and tired. When she recognized Magdalena, she forced herself to smile.
“Oh, Magdalena, it’s you,” she called. “That’s kind of you to come. Are you alone?”
Magdalena nodded. Cautiously, the midwife looked in all directions, then she disappeared inside the house. Footsteps could be heard on the stairs and a bolt was pushed back. Finally the door opened. Hurriedly, Goodwife Daubenberger waved her in.
“What’s the matter?” asked Magdalena as she entered. “Did you poison the burgomaster?”
“You ask what’s the matter, you silly goose?” she snapped, stirring the fire in the hearth. “They waylaid me
