The Master's Apprentice - Oliver Potzsch Page 0,16

They were a little older than him, and he knew them well. Two of them used to beat him up occasionally at his old school when he asked too many questions in class. But the third one was the most dangerous: Ludwig, Margarethe’s older brother.

Ludwig was nearly eighteen now, a whole head taller than Johann, with a pockmarked face and shifty eyes. He often knocked about with Johann’s elder brothers, drinking and fighting with the boys from neighboring villages. Ludwig had bullied Johann for as long as the younger boy could remember. The prefect’s son had never liked the fact that his sister was meeting up with the village misfit and know-it-all. Ludwig had no time for Johann’s magic tricks. Sometimes he even seemed envious when Johann enchanted Margarethe and her friends with chicken eggs and scarves.

Now Ludwig’s vigorous and triumphant demeanor told Johann that this time he wouldn’t get away with a joke and a few smart lines.

“Look at that, your tiny cripple of a brother was right,” Ludwig scoffed. “We only had to give the dwarf a little shake and he spilled. You were over at Maulbronn with those Bible thumpers again. I bet you wiped their asses with parchment.” Ludwig had always hated books at school; evidently his attitude hadn’t changed.

“I went to get medicine for my mother,” Johann replied firmly and felt for the small bottle under his shirt. “She is very ill.”

“When is your mother ever not ill?” Ludwig jeered and looked around at his younger friends for approval. “Do you know what folks are saying? The say Elisabeth the harlot caught the French disease. She went to bed with some foreign mercenary, and God is punishing her for it.”

“What did you call my mother? Say it again and I’ll . . . I’ll . . .” Johann took one step toward Ludwig. His anger was greater than his fear now, his voice trembling. It wasn’t the first time boys from town had teased him with the fact that his mother had been seen with other men in the past. They were careful never to do so while Johann’s father was around, though, as he’d respond with brutal violence. Still, Johann’s mother had a certain reputation in Knittlingen.

“You’ll what?” asked Ludwig. When Johann didn’t reply, the older boy continued. “Your mother is a whore. Do you hear me? A dirty whore! And I won’t stand by and watch my sister become one, too.”

It was too much for Johann. Shaking with anger, he raised his fist—when it suddenly dawned on him why Ludwig and the two others had ambushed him here: someone must have seen him and Margarethe in the field! And now Ludwig felt compelled to defend his little sister’s honor. Even if he fought with Ludwig now, the rumor was out, and it was more damaging to Margarethe than to him, especially since her father wanted to marry her off to a merchant’s son from Bretten. He had to pull himself together, for Margarethe’s sake.

“Listen,” Johann said in a conciliatory tone. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but there’s nothing going on between Margarethe and me—”

“It’s too late for excuses,” Ludwig shouted angrily. “You need a good tanning. Grab him!”

The two other boys stepped toward Johann at Ludwig’s command. Instinctively, Johann reached into his pocket where he’d put the powder earlier that day. It had a strong, pungent smell and was supposed to explode amid loud hissing and popping—but even unlit, Johann thought, it might serve him well. With one swift movement he hurled the powder into the face of one of the boys, who dropped to his knees almost instantly, rubbing his eyes and crying.

“He blinded me!” he whimpered. “The bastard blinded me! Help!”

“You’ll pay for this!” screamed Ludwig, lunging at Johann, who tried to escape. But Ludwig, strong as an ox, grabbed him. Johann didn’t stand the faintest chance.

While the boy with the powder in his eyes still rolled on the ground crying, Ludwig and the third boy started in on Johann. He thrashed as much as he could, but it was no use. They had brought a strong length of rope, and they tied his hands and feet until he lay before them as a twitching bundle.

Ludwig looked down at him and grinned. “Well, how do you like it now, smart-ass? Your tricks can’t help you now.” He turned to his friend. “Let’s carry him behind the gallows, like the mangy crook he is.”

The two of them grabbed Johann and lugged