The Master's Apprentice - Oliver Potzsch Page 0,166

philosophy, literature, and painting—is the only love worth cultivating. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Johann said nothing but slowly nodded.

“Your girl will understand,” continued Celtis and gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Men like us are meant for greater things, Faustus. Not for child minding and church on Sunday.” He stood up. “I expect your answer in two weeks at the latest. I trust you won’t disappoint me.”

Johann could see in Celtis’s eyes that he wouldn’t tolerate any objections. But he thought he also saw something else in the man’s look. Celtis was studying him closely, as if trying to read his thoughts. Evidently, he wasn’t inviting Johann just because he wanted a capable assistant and to support Johann’s career.

He wanted to keep an eye on him.

That afternoon, Johann staggered through the lanes of Heidelberg in a daze. What should he do? An offer like this would never come again. The whole world stood open to him, and all he had to do was say yes.

He would have liked to discuss this matter with Valentin. But then he’d have to admit that he was still seeing Margarethe, and Valentin would probably draw the right conclusions. After thinking it over for a long while, Johann finally decided to do what he hadn’t done in a long time: get completely and utterly drunk.

In a tavern near the university quarter, he ordered a large jug of wine. There weren’t a lot of people drinking at this hour of the afternoon; most students wouldn’t arrive until the evening. The sounds of laughter and music wafted in through the door. Preparations for Saint John’s Eve were in full swing throughout the city, and Johann realized that he’d been studying at Heidelberg for one whole year now. He had come to find Margarethe, and he had found her. He was happier than ever before in his life, and now he was supposed to leave her again? The more he thought about it, the clearer it became to him that he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t possibly leave without Margarethe. But he couldn’t turn down Celtis’s offer, either. So what was he supposed to do?

He emptied the jug in no time. The wine was sour and cheap, but at least it was strong. He ordered another one right away. Johann’s mood improved with each sip. There was a solution. He’d have to tell more lies, but he’d lied so many times in the last few years that it hardly mattered. He would take Margarethe with him to Vienna—as his maidservant. It was so easy! Celtis was bound to travel with a large household, and one girl more wouldn’t even be noticed. Later, once Johann had his magister and was earning his own money, he would take Margarethe for his wife. Surely Celtis would understand. Until then, Johann would rent a room close to the university for her, and they’d be able to see each other whenever they wanted. All would be well.

Johann took another long sip while his world became simpler by the minute. His plan was genius, really, because Margarethe’s husband wouldn’t be able to touch them. Who would dare to bother the great Conrad Celtis just because they were looking for some runaway nun? The elector or the bishop, perhaps, but certainly no drunken Heidelberg vintner.

Johann was so thrilled about his plan and so drunk from the two jugs of wine that he didn’t notice the man approaching his table.

It was Hans Altmayer.

“Look at that, the great Faustus deigns to have a drink with the common people,” jeered Altmayer. His nose, which Johann had broken during their brawl, had long healed, but now it was crooked and made him look even more of a ruffian.

“Better watch out that the alcohol doesn’t go to your head,” he hissed, glowering at Johann from bloodshot eyes.

Altmayer had been drinking heavily in recent months and had failed his baccalaureus exams. The rector himself had cautioned him and told him that he’d be kicked out of school if he failed another test. The only thing keeping Altmayer at the university right now was the protective hand of his father, who was an influential merchant.

“Pale little students with their noses always in books can’t handle anything,” Altmayer went on with a smirk. “Real life looks quite different.”

Johann rose to his feet. He swayed a little, and his head felt heavy and light as a feather at the same time. More than usual he felt a strong urge to pick a fight with Altmayer.