“Better keep your eyes on the river so we don’t have any accidents,” she replied coldly. The fellow was beginning to annoy her.
“In any case,” he said, still smiling, “I’ll see you tomorrow at sunrise. My boat is moored near the bridge. It’s the Étoile de Mer, you can’t miss it.” Reed held out his hand. “You pay half now, and the other half when we arrive at Amboise.”
“You will get the first half once we’re aboard tomorrow, and not a minute sooner,” replied Johann. “I may be a landlubber but I’m not stupid. Good evening to you, Master Reed. We must retire to our prayers.”
“Prayers, of course.” John Reed grinned once more. “Then don’t forget to include Saint Nepomuk in your prayers, the patron saint of skippers and raftsmen, and ask him to keep us safe on our journey. God bless you!”
For some reason Greta had the feeling that the young merchant wasn’t buying their pilgrimage story. But before she could give him another look, he vanished in the crowd with one last nod.
That evening, Karl and Johann sat bent over a chessboard in the taproom of their lodgings. Greta decided to take a stroll through the city. Her father hadn’t been particularly thrilled at the thought, but he accepted the fact that he couldn’t order her around. And so he had said a grumbling farewell and asked her not to be home too late.
Orléans was a large, vibrant city, and Karl understood Greta’s desire to see faces other than his and Johann’s. He regretted now that he had kept the truth from Greta for so long.
As for him, he had enjoyed the journey from Metz to France, especially because there was a chance they would meet the great Leonardo da Vinci at the end of it. Karl had been fortunate enough to admire some of the master’s paintings in person, including a mural at a monastery in Milan that showed Jesus and his disciples at the Last Supper. Karl revered Leonardo’s technique, especially the way in which he seemed to create light as if he knew how to fetch the sun from the sky. But Karl doubted the man’s abilities as a physician.
The sun had gone down by now, and smelly tallow candles were placed on the tables in the taproom. Johann and Karl had chosen a table off to the side where other patrons wouldn’t disturb them, although the large black wolfhound chewing on a ham bone under the table already ensured their privacy.
Johann loved playing chess, and Karl, too, had grown to enjoy the game over the years. These days he even won every now and then, which caused the doctor to quibble and complain. Karl felt proud when he beat Faust at a game considered to be one of cool intellect and known as the game of kings. In those moments he felt closer than ever to the doctor; it was like a game of love that was carried out with pawns instead of kisses—the only form of passion Faust allowed between the two of them. They were two men completely unlike one another who got on best during a round of chess and their scientific discussions of anatomy and Leonardo’s Figura Umana.
“Check,” said Karl, sliding one of his bishops diagonally.
Johann smirked as if he had already anticipated the move. He pushed his pawn forward by one square, forcing Karl to think hard. He hadn’t expected this move; the pawn was completely unprotected. He adjusted his eye glasses and leaned over the chessboard.
“This Reed,” said Johann after a while, interrupting Karl’s train of thought. “What do you think of him?”
“What?” Karl looked startled. “He’s a handsome, bright fellow. A little loudmouthed perhaps, but—”
Johann waved impatiently. “I want to know what you think of him, not whether you want to hop in bed with him. I saw you admiring him. Don’t you go do anything stupid!” He lowered his voice. “I’ve told you a hundred times that your escapades will be our downfall someday. Don’t forget—sodomites end up in the seventh circle of Dante’s hell, together with blasphemers and usurers.”
“You don’t need to remind me,” replied Karl, hurt by Johann’s caustic reproach. “I know the Bamberg penal code as well as you. And Dante’s Inferno.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be nasty.” Johann sighed and fiddled with one of the chess pieces that was already off the board. “What I meant was, Do you think Reed is trustworthy?”
Karl shrugged. “Why not? He’s just a Scottish merchant who wants to earn a little extra.”
“A Scottish merchant with remarkably good German,” said Johann somberly. “The sum I offered is laughably low, and yet he didn’t negotiate, not even a little. He agreed immediately.”
“Maybe because he likes the look of Greta?” suggested Karl. “It was rather obvious that he was interested in her.”
Karl hoped the doctor didn’t hear the frustrated note in his voice. It wasn’t the first time that Karl had an eye on a man just to watch him fuss over Greta.
“How did you meet him by the river?”
“Well, he . . . he approached me and . . .” Karl paused. He realized now that it wasn’t he who had found Reed but the other way around. John Reed had asked him if he required passage. The smile of the handsome young man had won Karl over instantly.
“I think we ought to at least be careful,” Johann said, staring at the chessboard as if their onward journey was drawn on it. “Who is to say Tonio hasn’t followed us to Orléans?”
“You . . . you’re saying John might actually be Tonio?” asked Karl with disbelief. “Then he would be incredibly well disguised. I mean, Reed is much younger, his hair is red, and—”
“And he’s making sheep’s eyes at my daughter.” Johann gave a little laugh. “You’re right,
