The Master's Apprentice - Oliver Potzsch Page 0,173

using the twilight of dawn and the fog to dart from one corner to the next.

His opportunity arrived at the city gate.

The guards driving the wagon stopped to talk to the watchman. Soon the men were hooting with laughter, and it seemed as though a jug of wine was handed around. The street was still relatively empty at this hour, and the fog was thick.

Johann sneaked up to the wagon and tried to catch a glimpse through the barred window. But it was pitch black on the other side, and it smelled of rotten straw and excrement. Then Johann heard a soft groaning.

“Valentin!” he whispered. “Can you hear me? It’s me, Johann!”

The groaning stopped abruptly. There was a rustling noise, and a few moments later Valentin’s face appeared at the barred window. Johann saw that not only was his friend bleeding from his head, but one of his lips was split open and he was missing a few teeth. And his right eye was swollen shut. His other eye glowered angrily at Johann. There was no trace of warmth or friendship.

“What do you want?” he mumbled.

“Valentin, I . . . ,” Johann began desperately. “I . . . I’m so sorry! Please forgive me, I—”

“What is it that you’d like me to forgive? The fact that you lied to me—your only friend—the entire time? That you used the apparatus we built together for your low needs? That you used me just like you use all people? That I’m going to be tried as a sorcerer because of you?” Valentin’s good eye gleamed as cold and hard as a diamond. “To you, Faustus, people are nothing but scientific instruments. You use them and then you discard them. How could I be so stupid and not notice sooner? I should have listened to the others, but instead I followed you around like a dumb calf. And now the calf is being led to slaughter.”

Johann tried to shake the iron bars; his face was close to Valentin’s.

“Valentin . . . you . . . Don’t talk like that! I didn’t want any of this to happen, believe me! I’m your friend, I—”

Valentin’s blood-stained saliva struck his cheek.

“Did you not hear what I said? They’re taking me to the Inquisition at Worms! Not even Rector Gallus was able to do anything about it.” Valentin laughed hysterically. “They are going to inflict pain on me until I confess to invoking Satan with you. And then they’ll burn me alive—while you walk free!”

Johann said nothing. Then he asked the one question he needed to ask, even though he didn’t think Valentin would answer it.

“What about Margarethe?”

“Your little nun?” Valentin smiled for the first time, but it was a nasty, twisted smile. “Oh, she was lucky.”

Johann’s heart beat wildly and he felt wide awake. “Are you saying she . . . she won’t be taken to Worms?”

“No, she won’t. The worst is behind her. Only God is her judge now.”

Johann froze. He struggled to speak because each word was as heavy as a lead weight.

“God . . . is . . . her . . . judge? What . . . what do you mean?”

“Is it so hard to understand? She hanged herself, Faustus! Last night in her cell. I heard the guards cut her down and her dead body drop into the straw. I watched through my window as they carried her away. I guess they nailed her into a barrel and threw her in the river, like they do with all suicides.”

The world stopped turning. The universe stood still. The gray morning mist covered Johann’s face, but he shed no tears. He was incapable of moving, incapable of speaking.

Reality seemed like the fog wafting past him.

“She is dead, Faustus,” Valentin continued. “Did you hear me? And it’s your fault. Your greed, your arrogance, your lies killed her.” He tilted his head to one side and studied his former friend as if for the last time. “By the way, she confessed to being a witch. I heard it myself. She said the boogeyman would come and get her now. The boogeyman . . .” Valentin’s voice was just a whisper now. “Are you the boogeyman, Faustus?”

Suddenly the cart jerked forward. The gate was wide open and the cart rattled onto the bridge. Valentin’s face was becoming smaller and smaller.

“Are you the boogeyman, Faustus?” shouted Valentin. “Tell me, are you?”

“Shut up!” yelled Johann. “Shut the hell up!”

Finally he managed to move again. Beside himself with anger and