dried pears, honey, and eggs was pushed through it. Katharina took the tray and flung it against the wall so hard the eggs broke and viscous, yellow yolk oozed down the whitewashed walls.
“Eat this stuff yourself!” she screamed. “I want out of here! Out, do you hear me? Out!”
The eye stared down at her coldly.
“Let me out!”
Silence. The eye unblinking.
“You goddamned devil!”
Katharina ran to the door and jammed her finger through the hole, but the eye had disappeared. She kicked the heavy wooden door and hammered it with her hands, screaming louder than she ever had before.
“Bastard! Devil! Satan!”
She had the sudden premonition that someone was standing right behind her. She spun around. Had she seen a shadow dart across the floor? A hunchbacked man, with a tail and two horns on his head. Katharina put her fist in her mouth and bit so hard that a tiny trickle of blood ran across her pale, translucent skin.
Her screams fading to a whimper finally, she slid down against the wall and onto the floor next to the overturned tray. She could still smell the enticing aroma of fresh bread, and now, reluctantly, she was hungry again.
She reached for the bread and clawed hastily at the white interior, stuffing the still-steaming pieces into her mouth. Perhaps the shadows and visions would vanish with her hunger.
In her ravenous fit she didn’t notice the eye once again staring down at her as she ate. Cool and pitiless.
“I’ve been expecting you,” Kuisl said as he rose from the floor of the cell and extended his hand to his visitor. The ceiling was so low that for the hundredth time he knocked his head against it. Early-morning light streamed through the open cell door. “It’s only too bad it’s under circumstances such as these.”
The Regensburg executioner’s grip was viselike, and his rough, callused hand felt like the bark of an old oak. And though Kuisl’s knuckles cracked, he barely registered the pressure.
“The ways of the Lord are inscrutable, dear cousin,” his visitor replied. As was the custom among hangmen, he addressed Kuisl as he would a member of his own family. Most executioners were distantly related in one way or another.
The Regensburg hangman stepped aside and motioned for Kuisl to follow him out into the dimly lit corridor of the cell block, at least as far as his chains would allow.
Philipp Teuber was a good bit shorter than the Schongau hangman, though considerably broader. His body was like a wine barrel with a disproportionately small head screwed on top. He was all sinew and muscle; the Heavenly Father seemed to have forgotten a neck when he created Teuber, leaving the excess material for his arms and legs. In the middle of his round, full face stood two astonishingly cheerful, sparkling eyes surrounded by countless freckles. All of this was framed by a full reddish-blond beard and an untamed head of hair. The Regensburg hangman was about forty years old, but his whole appearance gave the impression that he was considerably older.
“Next time let me know when you’re planning a visit to Regensburg,” Teuber said. “Then I’ll be sure to make a place ready for you in my house and have Caroline cook up some salted smoked meat.”
Kuisl grinned. “It certainly would be better than the slop they serve here.”
“You don’t know my Caroline.” Teuber flashed a row of dark yellow teeth as his face contorted into an expression the Schongau hangman could interpret only as a smile.
For a while they were silent. Then Teuber found his voice again, massaging his knuckles as he spoke. “It’s looking grim for you, cousin. The inquiry is over, and the city council wants to start your trial today. If you don’t confess, they’ll send you down to me in the torture chamber, and you know what happens from there…”
They both fell silent again; only the buzzing flies circling over the chamber pot could be heard.
“Why did you come?” Kuisl finally asked.
“I guess I just wanted to have a look at you,” the Regensburg executioner said, “before I put the thumb screws to you, that is. It’s not every day that I’m asked to break one of our own on the rack, let alone draw and quarter him.” He looked deep into Kuisl’s eyes. “The president of the council says you’re responsible for killing your sister and brother-in-law. Is that true?”
Kuisl cleared his throat loudly and spat on the ground. “What do you believe?”
Teuber’s eyes probed Kuisl’s body as if searching for witch’s markings or suspicious liver spots under his clothing.
“How many people have you executed, Kuisl?” he finally asked.
The Schongau hangman shrugged. “No idea. Maybe a hundred? Two hundred? I’ve never tallied them up.”
Teuber nodded approvingly. “Then you know at least what I’m talking about. Look here.” He pointed at his round, bearded face. “With these two ears of mine, I’ve heard more people whining that they were innocent than you have dumb farmers in Schongau. And these two eyes have seen more gallows birds hanged than there are fat priests in Rome. Regensburg’s a big city, and almost every month I have to hurt someone. And with time, Kuisl-” He sighed, looking at the inscriptions on the cell walls. “-with time, one learns to tell who’s innocent and who’s not,” he continued. “Believe me, most are guilty.”
“Don’t preach to me,” Kuisl growled. “I don’t give a damn what you believe or think. There’s nothing you can do once the higher-ups have made up their minds.”
Teuber nodded. “Right you are. Though it’s not nice when you have to lay the noose around someone’s neck while the real murderer’s still running free.”
“So, you do believe I’m innocent?”
The Regensburg hangman looked deep into his colleague’s eyes once more. “The city out there’s like a ravenous beast,” he said finally. “Every day she devours a few more, and it isn’t always the villains.”
Kuisl sensed his interlocutor was keeping something from him.
Teuber hesitated before attempting a smile again. “I’ll make you a proposal, Kuisl. Confess the double murder at the trial and you’ll at least spare yourself the torture. If they decide to break you on the wheel, I’ll crack your neck first with an iron rod so you won’t feel the rest. And if they decide to draw and quarter you instead, I have a nice little potion that will carry you off gently before your limbs are ripped from their sockets. How does that sound?”
Kuisl spat on the ground again. “It wasn’t me, and I’m not going to confess. Now get out of here, and do what you have to do. No doubt you have a few pincers to polish.”
Teuber took a deep breath. “You’re too damn proud, Kuisl. Believe me, you’ll end up screaming, and then all the pride in the world won’t do you a damn bit of good. I’ve seen it all too often.”
“By God, I tell you, it wasn’t me!” Kuisl exploded. “Even if you break every bone in my body. If you believe I’m innocent, then help me or keep your damned mouth shut.”
Teuber shook his head. “I won’t do anything that will bring ruin upon my family.”
“Rubbish!” Kuisl snapped. “Bring me some paper and something to write with-that’s all I ask. And when I’m done, take the letter to my daughter. That shameless woman is gadding about somewhere in Regensburg.”
“A farewell letter-I understand.” Teuber nodded. “I’ll have to ask the aldermen for permission, but that shouldn’t be a problem. Where do I find your daughter?”
Kuisl laughed. “Who are you? The Regensburg hangman or his apprentice? Ask around, keep your eyes peeled, but do it in secret so that you don’t drag my Magdalena along to the gallows, too.”
Teuber stroked his beard. “Fine, Kuisl,” he said finally. “I’ll help you because you’re one of us and because I don’t think you’re stupid enough to get yourself caught standing between two corpses with your dagger drawn. But as of tomorrow morning, I’ll have to hurt you all the same.”
“Let that be my concern.” Kuisl had already returned to his cell and settled down on the floor. “Now leave me in peace, Teuber. I need to think.”
The Regensburg executioner grinned as he slowly pulled the dungeon door closed. “Kuisl, Kuisl,” he said, wagging his finger impishly. “I’ve seen many a sinner before I tortured them-anxious, raving, screaming, praying-but you are by far the boldest. I can’t believe that will last long.”
With a crash, the door slammed closed and darkness descended over Jakob Kuisl.
