“Leonardo might have told me where the recipe is hidden,” said Johann. “But why would I tell you?”
“Because the master loves you, Faustus! More than anyone else. And you, deep down inside, love him, too. He wants you by his side—we can still take you to him.”
“That’s not enough. I want two lives in exchange for mine. Two lives in exchange for my knowledge and me. That’s a fair price!”
“Which two lives are you speaking of?” asked Henriet, still nothing but a vague shape in the darkness.
“Those of my assistant and my daughter,” replied Johann. “Ensure that nothing happens to them and I will be at your master’s service.”
More than a week had passed since his escape from Tiffauges. Johann didn’t know if Karl and Greta were still alive or if they had fallen victim to Lahnstein and the Inquisition. But he wasn’t ready to give up hope. Perhaps this way he would learn something about Karl’s and Greta’s fates.
Henriet snorted like an ox and then gave a laugh. “You still haven’t learned to let go, Faustus. That is the first lesson: free yourself from everything that restricts you—love, first and foremost. We don’t care about your assistant, but the master has other plans for your daughter.”
Johann caught his breath.
Other plans.
He had thought Greta had fallen into the clutches of the Inquisition at Tiffauges, but could his daughter be with Tonio? Was that what Henriet was trying to say?
“Where is she?” he asked with a trembling voice. “What . . . what have you done with her?”
“Think of the first lesson, Doctor.” Henriet laughed mockingly. “Free yourself from love. Your daughter isn’t important, just—”
Those words were too much for Johann. With an angry cry he hurled himself at the dark shadow in the corridor. The attack came as a surprise to Henriet. Johann felt a hard and astonishingly muscular body beneath him. On the outside, Henriet looked like a frail old servant, but he possessed the strength of a bull. He twisted his body underneath Johann and soon managed to break out of his grip. The two men grappled in the darkness, Henriet using his stick as a weapon. Johann couldn’t see much of his opponent, and Henriet was much stronger than him, but Johann’s punches were fueled by boundless fury and hatred.
“What have you done with Greta?” he yelled between blows. “What . . . have . . . you . . . done with her?”
“Easy, Doctor, easy.” Henriet laughed and rammed the tip of his walking stick into Johann’s stomach, causing Johann to double over and gasp. “I don’t want to kill you. The master will tear my head off if I do. You are his favorite, after all. Even if we don’t really need you any longer. I will beat you black and blue, bind you like a rabbit, and bring you to the master. Let him decide what to do with you.”
Another blow from Henriet’s stick sent Johann flying against the wall of the corridor. How could any man be this strong? The devil himself must have given him the power. Johann sat leaning against the wall, blood streaming down his forehead and into his eyes, and he struggled to breathe. When Henriet moved toward him with the stick again, Johann’s hand went to his belt. It was a motion he used to be able to do in his sleep, but now it felt awfully slow. Still, he managed to pull out one of his knives.
“Good night, Doctor. Sweet dreams,” said Henriet, raising the stick.
Johann threw his knife.
He hit his opponent somewhere in the stomach. Henriet staggered and grunted, the wound not bad enough to make him fall. But at least the stick missed its target. Johann kicked at Henriet’s legs, causing the man to trip and fall straight onto Johann. The stick clattered to the ground.
With his last strength, Johann grasped the handle of the blade stuck in Henriet’s stomach and pulled it hard from left to right. Henriet groaned and Johann felt warm liquid on his fingers. Then he managed to roll out from underneath the man.
Henriet coughed and spluttered beside him, lying on the floor like a black rock. His voice was but a whisper now.
“You . . . you are so . . . stupid, Faustus! So damned stupid, even though you call yourself wise. The master loves you, and you act like an unruly child. My death changes nothing—nothing! All is prepared.” He laughed, but his laugh turned into a rattling gargle. “We . . . we don’t really need the recipe, anyhow. It would have been but the crowning stroke in a match that is already won. It . . . it’s not crucial. To hell with you . . . With me . . .”
“What have you done with my daughter?” asked Johann. “Where is she?”
But there was no reply.
When he kicked Henriet’s body, it tipped to the side. The ensuing silence nearly suffocated Johann. He wasn’t sorry about Henriet, but his silence meant that Johann would get no more answers from him. Had Henriet known where Greta was? What had happened to Karl? Or had he been bluffing, just like Johann?
On hands and knees, Johann searched for his lantern and the tinderbox. Once he’d found both items, he lit the lantern with shaking hands. He glanced at Henriet, whose face was wrinkled and hair was gray. He looked like an ancient old man, but underneath the servant’s wide clothes had been an incredibly powerful body. Even in death his small black eyes gleamed with evil. The knife still stuck in Henriet’s abdomen, and a pool of blood had spread around his body, soaking some of the scraps of paper on the ground.
Johann was about to rush back to the cellar of
