Johann pushed the book beneath some of the others, hoping Lahnstein wouldn’t get the idea to leaf through it. “I’m sure you didn’t come to chat about Leonardo da Vinci,” he said.
“Indeed I didn’t.” Lahnstein took a step forward and gazed out the window, his hands crossed behind his back. “You’re a smart man, Doctor, just like me. That is why we don’t need to play games. When I told the bishop to ask you here, I had my own agenda.” He spun around brusquely and looked Johann in the eye. “I want you to accompany me to Rome.”
Johann groaned inwardly. His worst fears were coming true. But he merely smiled thinly. “Does the pope want a horoscope, too? One at a time—the bishop asked first.”
“Don’t mock His Holiness,” snarled Lahnstein. “Pope Leo X is after something else.” He lowered his voice. “Something much bigger.”
“I think you overestimate my abilities, Your Eminence. I’m a simple astrologer and doctor. Not much good as an Antichrist, I’m afraid—you’d be better off taking that Luther. So if you want to accuse me of heresy—”
“Balderdash!” Lahnstein cut him off with a wave of his hand. “Heresy? Nonsense! The pope knows very well that you’re not much more than a fraud and a quack. But he also heard that there is something you know, something”—Lahnstein hesitated—“very particular. Something few people know. And it is a knowledge the pope is highly interested in. Consider it an invitation to a conversation among the like-minded.”
Johann frowned. This encounter had taken a sudden and unexpected turn, and he didn’t know whether he liked it.
“What sort of knowledge?” he asked after a while.
Lahnstein looked back out the window. He said nothing for a long moment, and when he spoke, he spoke quietly as his eyes traveled across the dark forests beyond Bamberg. Night had fallen outside.
“It is the knowledge of a man who was born a long time ago,” said Lahnstein. “A very powerful and profoundly evil man. His name is Gilles de Rais.”
Johann shivered as if winter had just arrived.
Gilles de Rais.
Would this nightmare never end?
“I . . . I don’t know what you’re talking about,” replied Johann eventually.
“Oh yes, you do.” Lahnstein turned back to him. He pointed his index finger straight at Johann, his beak-like nose making him look like a gigantic bird of prey in the dim light. “There is a secret that surrounds Gilles de Rais, and you know that secret, Doctor Faustus! We have it on good authority.” He gestured toward the window. “Whatever you’re doing out there, whatever swill you sell and how you fool the common people—Rome doesn’t care. Rome is only interested in true arcane knowledge—knowledge that you share with Gilles de Rais. And do you know why?” He lowered his face, his voice nothing but a whisper. “Because he told it to you himself.”
“You know very well that the man you’re speaking of has been dead these eighty years. How should he be able to tell me anything?”
“Is he really? Dead? I wouldn’t be so sure.” Lahnstein smiled thinly. “Why so modest all of a sudden, Doctor Faustus? I heard wizards like you could speak with the dead. Isn’t that what you claim in your shows?”
The papal representative slowly walked to the door while the shadows of night spread through the chamber. “Compile your pretty horoscope, Doctor, just as the bishop wishes. And then travel to Rome with me. Pope Leo X can’t wait to make your acquaintance. Yours and that of your many secrets. He wants to talk to you about Gilles de Rais and his arcane knowledge before other powerful men do. You’re in demand, Johann Georg Faustus, and these are tumultuous times.”
At the door, Lahnstein turned back to Johann once more.
“Oh, and one more thing. I am going to inform the bishop that your work is taking up so much of your time that you don’t want to leave this lovely chamber. Your meals will be brought to you, and if you need anything else, your servants can see to it. You’re the bishop’s guest, after all. For your own safety, Hagen will keep watch outside your chamber. God bless you.”
With these words, the papal representative left the room. Before the door slammed shut, Johann caught a glance of the Swiss mercenary, still eyeing him as blankly as if he were a bug.
Then the bolt was pushed across and Johann was alone.
The shaking came over him shortly after Lahnstein had left. It was much more severe than before—more severe than ever—and Johann had to sit down on the chair so he wouldn’t fall. His left arm jerked like a twitching snake, sweat ran down his forehead, and he forced himself to breathe calmly. Each passing moment felt like an eternity while thoughts flashed through his mind like lightning.
Gilles de Rais. Gilles de Rais. Gilles de Rais.
For the first time, Johann felt certain that his ailment was indeed a curse. How else was it possible that the mention of that unhappy name triggered a fit? First Tonio del Moravia, his former master, had entered his life again, and now Gilles de Rais!
Who are you? And what does it have to do with me?
To this day, Johann didn’t know how Gilles and Tonio were connected. They were two pieces of a mosaic that he still couldn’t see in its entirety. Gilles de Rais had been a powerful French knight, an extravagant marshal who had lived nearly a hundred years ago and become a slave
