The Master of Medicine (The Secret Healer Series Book 2) Page 9

  “Your master was going to take a long trip today with the archbishop. But I see he hadn’t packed. And upstairs there’s no luggage, not even one bag. Why is that?”

  From the perplexed look on her face, the housekeeper obviously didn’t understand. “But, my lord, that’s not true. My master didn’t intend to go on that trip.” She looked down at the floor.

  “But I know with certainty that Bernhard von Harvehorst was supposed to accompany the archbishop on his trip to Rome.”

  “No, my lord. I don’t mean to contradict you, but my master had changed his plans. The quarrel was even worse than it seemed at first.”

  “What quarrel?”

  She kneaded the handkerchief in her hands. “I would prefer not to talk about it, my lord.”

  “I have no patience for your preferences. I order you to tell me immediately!”

  She looked at him pleadingly. “But I don’t want to be the one who gets punished.”

  “Nobody will punish you if your conscience is clean. So tell me right now!”

  She cried for another moment, then looked up. “Who gives you the right to ask me these questions?” Her expression had completely changed. A minute ago she had seemed frightened and timid, now she seemed leery.

  “I’m investigating the death of your master in the name of Friedrich III, the archbishop of Cologne.”

  She shrugged, then her eyes widened and she shook her head.

  “Didn’t you hear me? You must answer me!”

  “But if you are acting on behalf of the archbishop, I mean, if you’re working for him . . . then you must know . . .”

  “No, I don’t know. Speak right now, or the punishment you so fear shall come to pass.”

  “The argument with the archbishop,” she said, her voice trembling.

  Johannes guessed that he’d learn more from the housekeeper if he used a gentler approach. He pulled up a chair and sat down directly in front of her. “My good woman, you can speak openly. I must clear up the death of your master, and to do that, I must have accurate information. You won’t be punished. Whatever you reveal will be for my ears only. I give you my word about that.”

  She lifted her head and gazed at him through red-rimmed eyes. “Swear to it on the life of your children.”

  “All right, I swear to it on the life of my children.”

  She looked at him dubiously. “You do have children, don’t you?”

  “A boy and a girl, yes.” Johannes smiled.

  “All right, then. I want to believe you.” She exhaled loudly. “You know that I’m just a simple woman and don’t really understand such things, but I do know that the argument was because of the archbishop’s actions in operating the newly acquired fiefdom. As I understand it, an injustice occurred when the archbishop didn’t keep his promises.”

  “An injustice? What kind of injustice?”

  “I don’t really know, my lord. But my master told me that the archbishop had taken what he wanted without thinking of those who had stood beside him during a difficult vote. Those were his words.”

  Johannes considered what this complaint could be referring to. He himself had led some negotiations about the surrender of a fief, but those proceedings were mutually agreed upon, always honoring the provisions as set by law. “By chance, do you know where this fief was?”

  “No, my lord. Unfortunately, I don’t know that.”

  “Can you tell me when your master decided not to accompany the archbishop? And how the archbishop reacted to this announcement?”

  She shrugged. “My master didn’t talk to me about that.”

  “I understand.” Johannes got up. “I may return if I need to ask more questions.”

  She began to cry again. “I don’t know if I’ll be here then. There’s nobody here to run a household for. Where am I going to go now?”

  “I’ll ask the archbishop if he knows anyone who needs a steadfast and loyal housekeeper such as yourself. Provided there are no heirs, nobody will object to you staying at the house in the meantime.”

  “Thank you, my lord.”

  “I’ll send you a message as soon as I speak with the archbishop. Stay here until then.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “Good. May God be with you.”

  “And with you, my lord.”

  Johannes went upstairs again. The doctor and the guard had laid Bernhard von Harvehorst on some sheets, and the doctor promised he would ensure that the body would be picked up by the mortuary chapel in a timely fashion. They all left the house together, bade each other farewell, and went in different directions.

  Johannes hurried to reach Friedrich before he left on his trip. As he got closer to the archbishop’s palace, a very bad feeling came over him. How would he tell Friedrich that Bernhard von Harvehorst had no intention of accompanying him on his trip? Or was Friedrich already aware of this? Should he keep this knowledge to himself?

  He crossed the marketplace, taking long, quick strides as he went. On the outskirts of the marketplace, he came upon two merchants quarreling about space for their respective stalls. He kept going, finally reaching the archbishop’s residence.

  The guards greeted him, and for the second time that day let him pass. He’d barely stepped into the building when Friedrich’s personal servant met him.

  “Is you master still here?” Johannes asked.

  “Yes, but not for much longer. The horses have been prepared.”

  “I’ll be brief.” With great determination, Johannes walked toward the archbishop’s study, which was flanked by guards, and stepped up to the door.

  “I’m bringing the archbishop a report about the death of Bernhard von Harvehorst,” he stated. One of the guards knocked and announced his arrival.

  “He can enter but he needs to make haste,” the archbishop said from within. Johannes stepped into the study.

  “Your Grace, I’ve just come from Bernhard von Harvehorst’s house. He was murdered, my lord.”

  “Murdered? That’s what I suspected.” Friedrich balled up his hand into a fist. “How?”

  “He was beaten, tied up, and then hanged.”

  “The dirty pigs! Bring me the person who did this!”

  “There’s nothing I’d rather do.” Johannes hesitated, then decided to ask the question. “I know you’re in a great hurry, my lord, but if I am to sort out the murders of Vicar Bartholomäus and Bernhard von Harvehorst, I must collect as much information as possible.”

  “Yes. What are you getting at?”

  “Well, it’s strange indeed. Bernhard von Harvehorst’s housekeeper didn’t think her master was going with you on a trip today. On the contrary. She stated that von Harvehorst had no intention of accompanying you. From what I could gather, it’s because of some sort of dispute.”

  The archbishop looked at Johannes quizzically, then suddenly became enraged. “What are you implying?”

  “In your opinion, why would the housekeeper make such a statement? I told her that I was questioning her on your behalf, and after that she claimed that her master hadn’t planned on going on the trip, that he’d told her quite clearly that he was staying in Cologne. I saw firsthand that he hadn’t packed any bags. I can’t explain it myself, and I’m asking you to help me.” Johannes exhaled. He had formulated the question in the most innocuous way possible, trying to avoid making Friedrich feel threatened.

  “I would gladly help you,” the archbishop said, now somewhat calmer, “but I’m as confused as you are. I’m positive that Bernhard von Harvehorst wanted to accompany me on this trip.”

  “Was there a dispute as the housekeeper maintained, or did she lie in this respect?”

  “No, it’s true. We argued about a variety of things. Most recently, we disagreed about the interpretation of a promise concerning some fiefs. But this conflict was resolved weeks ago.”

  “Did he end up sharing your views?”

  The archbishop’s face relaxed completely now. “No, not at all. And that’s
just as well because von Harvehorst was correct. After our fight, if that’s what you want to call it, I took the documents in dispute and examined them again. I’m a man who keeps his word, and von Harvehorst served me well by drawing my attention to the points we’d argued about. Finally, I ended up agreeing with him.”

  “So, he convinced you?”

  “Yes, he did. You know, archbishop or not, if I can’t trust my closest colleagues or advisers to come to me with an honest opinion, I might as well be talking to a wall. I don’t need advisers who just say what they think I want to hear. My predecessors made that mistake, and we know what that meant for the diocese. No, Counselor. Bernhard von Harvehorst always pointed out my shortcomings and lapses in judgments directly and without circumlocutions. He was a brave man who could humble and teach many a nobleman a thing or two. That he was murdered in such a cowardly manner breaks my heart.” He rubbed his eyes. “If you ask me, you should go back to the housekeeper and ask her when she found out about this so-called dispute that supposedly made von Harvehorst change his mind about the trip. She must have had a reason to lie. That he decided not to accompany me at the last minute is completely ridiculous.”

  “I’m sorry,” Johannes said.

  “For what? Because you had some doubts? Because you were brave and confronted me, with the greatest respect, with your questions? I thought I made myself clear. My grandfather used to say that a man’s thoughts must find their way to his tongue, or else he will never get the answers he seeks.”

  “Your grandfather was a wise man.”

  “He was.”

  “Well, then, Your Grace, I wish you a pleasant journey. I will fulfill the tasks bestowed upon me with the greatest of care.”

  “I know you will.”

  Johannes bent to one knee, and Friedrich stretched out his hand so that the lawyer could kiss his ring. Then Johannes straightened up and looked his employer directly in the eyes. “It fills me with great pride to have your trust. May God be with you and protect you during your journey.”

  “Find this fiend! May God be with you!”

  As Johannes walked away, he felt the weight of the great challenges he would have to face. The first thing he needed to do was to interrogate the housekeeper again about what she’d said, in light of what the archbishop had told him.

  At von Harvehorst’s house, Johannes knocked several times but nobody came to the door. The situation reminded him of when he had tried to gain entry to Bartholomäus’s house. Had the housekeeper simply disappeared like Bartholomäus’s servant had? That just couldn’t be. He’d told her quite explicitly that she needed to stay put. He knocked again, this time even harder. When no one answered, he rammed his shoulder against the door with all his might until the lock finally gave way. The door swung open, slamming against the wall behind it. Johannes paused and looked down the street to see if anyone had noticed him breaking into the house. But nobody seemed to be paying him the least bit of attention.

  Johannes looked around the silent entryway. It seemed that no one was coming.

  “Is anybody here?”

  No answer. He walked through the house, opening every door to verify that nobody was home. The place was empty. Johannes climbed the stairs and looked into the bedchamber where Bernhard von Harvehorst had lost his life. It looked the same as before, but Johannes’s feeling had changed. Now he was more curious than ever as to what had happened. Where had the housekeeper gone? Did she go voluntarily, or had someone kidnapped her? And what about Bartholomäus’s servant, Christopeit? Johannes still hadn’t been able to discern his whereabouts. He’d even asked two of the archbishop’s guards to keep their ears and eyes open for information about Christopeit’s disappearance when they patronized the local pubs. But nobody seemed to know anything. And now the housekeeper had vanished as well. She was the only witness, the only one who might have been able to help him discover Bernhard von Harvehorst’s real intentions regarding the journey with the archbishop.

  Johannes was growing more suspicious; perhaps something more sinister was afoot than he’d first imagined. It made him both nervous and furious, as well as determined. He would figure out who was behind all this. But first, he had to find the housekeeper.

  Chapter Nine

  “We’ve come on behalf of Eckard von Dersch, the bishop of Worms. Please come with us.”

  “Why?” Madlen looked perplexedly at the two men standing before her outside the front door.

  “We don’t know ourselves. Please, come with us.”

  Madlen wondered what the bishop of Worms could want from her. Was it about Peter’s debts? But then why would they require her presence? She had nothing at all to do with it—she was, after all, only his son’s wife. Why hadn’t the bishop asked for Elsbeth? It had to be about something else. A shiver ran down Madlen’s spine. Was it something to do with the cataract operation? She’d only held Peter’s head, and the man who had operated on him was a real physician. Her throat constricted at the thought that history could not only repeat itself but come crashing down upon her. The slander, the constant worry she’d be discovered, the fear of death. Silently, she implored God to deliver her.

  The guard cleared his throat. “Are you coming, my lady?”

  Elsbeth had stepped behind Madlen. “No. I will not allow my daughter-in-law to leave this house as long as we do not know what the bishop wants from her.”

  “But we have our orders.”

  “That is your problem.”

  “But you just can’t—”

  “Don’t tell us what we can or cannot do,” Elsbeth said. “I’ve put up with enough unpleasantness lately. My daughter-in-law has stood by me, through thick and thin. As long as we are in the dark about the bishop’s intentions, I cannot allow her to go with you.”

  The guards fell silent, dumbfounded.

  “Well, then,” Elsbeth said, “there’s nothing more to say. Please send the bishop our warmest regards and ask him if he would send a messenger to disclose the reason for his request. May God bestow upon you a safe return.” With that, she closed the door and locked it.

  Madlen looked at her with terror in her eyes. “You’ve angered the bishop’s men.”

  “Whether they’re angry or not is debatable, but I am tired of being pushed around.” She put her hands on Madlen’s shoulders. “You know, since you’ve been here, I’ve started to regain my former vigor. You have my endless thanks for everything you’ve done for Peter and me. Now it’s time to use my strength to make you stronger, too. Trust me.”

  “That’s what Johannes always says.” Madlen smiled.

  “Well, of course. He’s my son after all,” Elsbeth said as she winked at her daughter-in-law.

  “Who was that, Mother?” Veit came out of the kitchen, followed by Cecilia.

  “Just two of the bishop’s men. He wanted to send us his regards.”

  “That’s very nice of the bishop,” Cecilia said.

  Madlen stroked her daughter’s head, still covered by the bonnet. “Yes, little one. That is very nice of him.” Madlen threw a look at Elsbeth, then couldn’t help but laugh. “And I think the men will come again soon to send the bishop’s further regards.”

  “For some reason, I do believe you are correct,” Elsbeth said, laughing along with Madlen. The sudden outbreak of good cheer was interrupted by a knock at the door.

  “I’ll get it,” Elsbeth said, grabbing the door handle. She took a deep breath and opened the door. She was surprised to see Franz von Beyenburg standing there.

  “Doctor, how wonderful to see you,” she said, stepping aside to let him in.

  Franz couldn’t disguise his own surprise. “God bless you! Have you all been waiting at the door for me?” He looked from Elsbeth to Madlen then to both the children.

  “Of course!” Madlen said. “Because we’re so grateful for your treatment of Peter.”

  “All right,” Franz said skeptically. “Now, then. Today the bandages come off. So we’ll just see how grate
ful you should be.”

  “I’m absolutely confident.” Elsbeth closed the door behind him.

  “Doctor, please go right on up. Should I follow you?” Madlen asked.

  “Of course. Bring some fresh water. We will use it to moisten the bandages before we remove them—that will make the process easier.”

  “I will,” Madlen promised, then waited a moment until the doctor was out of earshot. She whispered into Elsbeth’s ear, “I doubt that the bishop’s men will leave us alone. What should we do if they come back?”

  “Be strong,” came the prompt answer. “Something I haven’t been for far too long—I was so afraid of what could happen. But that’s all over now. It’s as if I have lived in a fog all my life. But no more.” Elsbeth raised her chin proudly. “Go on up and help the doctor. I’ll make sure that he gets the water.” She pulled Madlen close. “In difficult times, it’s we women who must set everything straight. And so it will be again.”

  “Please keep your eyes closed,” the doctor said as he carefully pulled away the moistened linen bandages.

  Peter kept perfectly still; he didn’t move a muscle. It looked as though he were holding his breath. Madlen stood next to the doctor, who was sitting at the edge of Peter’s bed. She watched his every move with great interest.

  “So.” He laid the last bandage onto a small table. “I’ve removed them all. Madlen, please dip a fresh piece of linen in the water.”

  She dutifully dunked the cloth in the water, then started to hand it to the doctor.

  Franz shook his head. “You do it.”

  She hesitated briefly, then bent over toward Peter. Franz stood, freeing up his seat. Madlen sat down and got closer to Peter’s right eye with the cloth. “I’m going to touch your eyelid now,” she said and dabbed at it carefully. Then she did the same thing to the other eye. “Tell me if this feels uncomfortable in any way.”

  “It’s fine,” Peter whispered.

  Madlen bent over the bowl of water, rinsed out the cloth, and repeated the procedure.