going to be an awful bore!” He fell dramatically to his knees in front of Magdalena. “Please! Grant me the favor of your company, I beg you!”
Magdalena tilted back her head in cool deliberation. “Who knows? That may not be such a bad idea after all,” she said. “Surely these gentlemen have some interesting things to say.”
With only the briefest hesitation, the hangman’s daughter reached for a small red velvet jacket with lace sleeves trimmed in fur, and a wide hoop skirt. Why not marry pleasure and practicality? If anyone could help her father, it would be the men attending the ball tonight. She might even discover a few things that would otherwise remain strictly the province of the innermost circles of power.
Magdalena’s gaze wandered back to the mirrors. Before her stood a proud woman, a woman determined to fight.
Tooth and nail, if that’s what it came to.
Shortly after nightfall Nathan finally had news from the free-men.
All day Simon had been cooped up in the catacombs, caring for his destitute wards. He’d scraped scabies from the heads of three children, splinted a trembling old man’s broken leg, treated countless festering wounds with arnica, prepared packets of dried blueberries for patients with dysentery, and pulled five rotten teeth. After all that work he was more than a little happy when the beggar king finally informed him the freemen were willing to meet him down at the raft landing that evening. Nathan agreed to act as his guide, with the qualification, however, that Simon would continue treating Nathan’s crew of beggars, at least for the next few days.
The two set out, passing again through winding subterranean corridors before finally emerging into the cellar of a tavern. The tavern keeper didn’t seem surprised in the least when Nathan and his companion appeared out of thin air from behind a stack of firewood. Simon had to assume the man was aware of the beggars’ secret passageways, but when he asked Nathan about it, the beggar king replied in a disparaging tone.
“When there isn’t enough room in the hospitals or among us down below, some of my brothers have to stay in lousy inns like this one,” he said as they stepped out the back door. “That bastard demands two hellers a night, and if they don’t pay, he reports them to the city.” Then he winked. “But if the bailiffs throw us out at Jakob’s Gate, we come right back in by Peter’s Gate. Just like fleas-there’s no getting rid of us.”
From this point on, the moon illuminated their way through back alleys. No shadows leaped at them from dark corners, nor were any suspicious sounds to be heard behind them. The medicus felt certain that with Nathan by his side he was as safe as if he were home in bed in Schongau. Only a lunatic would dream of attacking the beggar king.
As they walked along, Simon thought constantly of Magdalena. When the beggars brought his medical instruments to him that morning from the Whale, they also brought news that Magdalena had disappeared. Simon was still not seriously concerned, though; it was quite possible she’d just gone out for a stroll around town or was making inquiries into the murders. Just to be sure, a beggar was waiting to intercept her at the Whale and bring her to the catacombs. But what if the guards had already seized her for arson? And then, of course, there was another possibility that tormented Simon…
This wasn’t the right moment to indulge in jealous fantasies. Before them the wharves of the raft landing appeared. He was surprised to note that the place was deserted at this hour except for some rats scurrying across wet planks. From the Danube the stench of fish, algae, and decay rose up, and alongside the wharves, rafts bobbed lazily up and down in the water, their boards creaking as the languid current knocked them against the posts. Music and laughter echoed from nearby taverns-evidently the sounds of raftsmen tying one last one on before early- morning departures.
Just then they heard footsteps behind them, and Nathan pulled Simon out of sight behind some wine vats stored on the dock waiting to be loaded onto another vessel. A few moments later two guards came into sight, halberds slung over their shoulders, unshaven faces exhausted and red from alcohol. They looked bored as they sauntered from one end of the landing to the other.
“Damn it! What are they doing here?” the beggar king cursed. “I don’t pay the outlandish bribes so these village idiots can come around here looking for a lady friend for the night!”
Simon looked at him with consternation. “You paid a bribe-”
“Why else do you think it’s so quiet around here?” Nathan interrupted. “Two silver pennies for the pier warden to put his men down for a nap. But just for half an hour, so please be quick!”
No sooner had the two guards rounded the next corner than Nathan took hold of the astonished medicus and, crouching, ran with him toward another group of barrels next to the warehouse. The containers were positioned so that a small passage ran between them, one not directly visible from the raft landing. At the end of the passage they came upon a crate as tall as a man, old and smeared with tar; a tangle of nets spilled out of it. It smelled so strongly of rotten fish that Simon instinctively put his hand over his nose and started to gag. Paying the stench no heed, Nathan raised the lid with a creak.
“Follow me, keep a low profile, and pull the lid shut after you.”
Horrified, Simon watched the beggar king pull himself up to the edge of the crate and climb inside. There was a clattering sound, and then only silence. Simon peered inside in disbelief to discover that Nathan was nowhere to be seen.
“Damn it all to hell, where are you?” The voice of the beggar king echoed strangely from very far away, farther in any case than the crate was deep.
Simon heaved himself over the edge, climbed inside, and closed the lid as instructed. Everything went pitch black at once; the foul odor of fish and guts rose around him as if he’d landed inside the belly of a whale. The medicus felt some matted nets under his feet and, as he groped around, discovered that one hung down farther than the rest. Carefully he crawled forward on his knees, patting the ground beneath him as he went, until he came upon a hole no wider than a man’s hips through which the end of the long net dropped. The net served as a sort of rope ladder leading down into bottomless darkness.
Hand over hand, Simon made his way down the slimy rope ladder until he felt solid ground beneath his feet.
In front of him Nathan held a burning lantern in his hand and grinned. “I almost thought you’d gotten yourself tangled in the net like a fat carp,” he whispered. “Now come along.”
They hurried down a narrow corridor hollowed out of the damp earth that was so low in places Simon had to duck to avoid hitting his head. Here, too, the stench of fish and algae reigned, but a fresh breeze blew in from somewhere in front of them, and water dripped from the ceiling onto Simon’s collar.
“An old escape tunnel crossing under the Danube,” Nathan explained. “It runs all the way over to the Upper Wohrd, the island in the middle of the river, and then past that to the north riverbank, where the Electorate of Bavaria begins.” He giggled. “The bailiffs are flabbergasted about how we manage to smuggle so many goods across the river when customs are so strict on the bridges. If we wanted, we could clean out the whole city.”
The beggar stopped so abruptly that Simon almost ran into him. His eyes glinted coldly, out of place on his otherwise friendly face, and his golden teeth flashed in the lantern light as he whispered.
“If you should ever betray our tunnel, you’d best know that we’ll find you. Wherever you are. We treat traitors to our cause to slow deaths. Think of human leather…”
“I-wouldn’t even dream…” Simon stuttered.
“So much the better,” Nathan said, and continued walking. “I don’t distrust you, but I have to make sure you understand.”
Again he giggled, and the medicus followed him with a sigh. Simon couldn’t quite figure Nathan out: one minute he treated him like a friend, and in the next his manner was cold and calculating.
When they arrived at the end of the corridor, another rope ladder led up through a narrow shaft. Again Nathan went first and, after arriving at the top, pushed a large black object to the side. Surfacing behind him, Simon recognized it as a rotting wooden fishing boat that lay hidden in underbrush not far from the shore.
The medicus took a deep breath of the fresh night air and looked around. By the light of the full moon he spotted a lowlying grassy island that stretched up and down the Danube. To one side he could make out the Stone Bridge in the moonlight where it connected to the island by a dam. Nearby were several large warehouses and other buildings attached to crumbling jetties that led down to the dark, rushing current. Mill wheels revolved,
