Johann glanced over at the castle, whose walls seemed to absorb the sunlight. There was no movement on the battlements, and the windows stared down at them darkly.
“Each night that I spend in there, I will light a flame by the south wall that you can see from the forest,” he said eventually. “Two long signals, two short ones, thrice repeated. If I’m in trouble, there’ll be short signals only. That’s how we remain in contact. Agreed?”
“And if there is no light at all?” asked Greta.
“Then my mission is over, one way or another. Don’t wait for me. Greta, Tonio might reach out for you following my death. In that case you must get away from here as fast as you can.” He looked at John. “I am placing my daughter’s life in your hands. May God punish you if anything happens to Greta.”
“I won’t let anything happen to her.” John gave a small bow. “You can rely on me, Doctor.”
“So you’ll just walk over to the castle, knock on the door, and deliver yourself to the enemy?” asked Greta. “Are you serious?”
Johann smiled. “Sometimes the simplest plans are the best. It’s like with chess. Always make the move your opponent least expects.”
They waited until it was dark.
Karl’s clothes had dried in the meantime, and he no longer felt quite as pathetic as he had earlier in the afternoon when he’d nearly drowned in the moat. They had withdrawn into the shelter of the woods. Once or twice they heard shouting in the distance—the soldiers were probably still out looking for them. But the forests around Tiffauges were thick, and the wild gorse bushes formed a natural labyrinth. The shouting soon ebbed and didn’t come closer.
They exchanged few words, afraid that talking would make saying goodbye even harder. Karl was scared; fear had grown around his heart like a layer of ice. He didn’t know what awaited him in the castle, but at the same time he was relieved that the doctor had agreed to bring him along. And hadn’t he even seen some affection in Faust’s eyes? Karl knew that the doctor would never love him, but a bond had grown between them over the years that couldn’t be broken. They would walk this path together, too—maybe it would be their last. Wasn’t that what designated true love—to live through everything together until the bitter end?
And besides, Karl still hoped that maybe everything would somehow turn out well. Perhaps the steward ruling the castle would turn out to be nothing but a steward, and the new priest nothing but a priest. Maybe the death of the children could still somehow be explained by natural causes. Maybe they would leave Tiffauges Castle alive, and maybe Faust’s disease was just a disease and not a curse—a malady that might be treatable, at Córdoba or wherever. But Karl had to admit that there were a lot of maybes in his considerations—more than a scientist like him could accept.
When night had descended over the woods, the four of them sneaked over to the moat, which stretched before them black and smooth. John had persuaded Johann that it would be best if he and Greta accompanied them as far as the castle. At the far end of the moat, a dam led across the river, and not far from that was the bastion forming the main entrance. The small gate, the only visible way to get into the castle, stood wide open.
Like an invitation, thought Karl.
Concealed by the darkness, they hurried across the dam and continued along the castle wall toward the five-pointed star of the bastion. When they had almost reached it, John signaled for them to stop and duck.
“What is it?” whispered Greta.
“See the bush by the moat, not far from the gate?” John pointed at the spot. “Two men are hiding there. Not castle guards, I’m guessing, but some of the same soldiers we saw in town.”
Now Karl could also make out the two figures. They were about eighty paces away and barely recognizable.
“Wait here,” ordered John. He drew his long hunting knife from his belt and stalked toward the bush, followed by Greta’s worried gaze.
“What is he doing?” she asked. “There are two of them. If one of them screams—”
“He belongs to the king’s guard,” said Johann reassuringly. “I think he knows what he’s doing. I still can’t stand the fellow, but he certainly is a useful fighter.”
Karl couldn’t see John for a few moments. He wondered if more soldiers they couldn’t see had been hiding, but then a shadow rose behind one of the men by the bush. The man slumped to the ground and was swallowed up by the darkness. Karl thought he heard a muffled sound, then the second man also vanished.
“Like I said—he knows what he’s doing,” said Johann with an approving nod.
Soon John returned, the knife back on his belt. He seemed completely composed—not at all as if he’d just slit the throats of two men. “They were Swiss mercenaries,” he reported in a low voice. “I would have loved to finish off that giant, but he wasn’t there. It’s highly likely that he’s lurking somewhere else. So better not hold any lengthy speeches when you’re standing outside the inner gate.”
“I’ll be pleased if it opens at all,” said Johann before he stood up and stretched.
His appearance was crippled and crooked as a gnarled willow, and yet he looked determined, fearless, and powerful, like a great sorcerer.
“Well, then. Let’s get it over with.” He hugged Greta one last time. “Don’t you worry about me,” he said, running his hand through her hair. “You were correct: Doctor Faustus always thinks of something.” He smiled weakly. “After all, he can do magic, right?” Then he turned away abruptly and strode toward the castle gate with Karl.
15
KARL KEPT LOOKING BACK, EXPECTING OTHER MERCENARIES to leap out of their hiding places at any moment. But nothing happened. A
