The Master's Apprentice - Oliver Potzsch Page 0,190
mostly men with angular, weather-beaten faces. They hailed from England, Denmark, Sweden, and other countries that lay even farther away—somewhere to the north and east, beyond the horizon. Foreign-sounding scraps of conversation buzzed through the air, and much of what the eminent and wise Doctor Faustus said no one understood. But seafarers enjoyed jugglery and lighthearted magic tricks no matter where they came from. And they liked the taste of the strong theriac.
From Hamburg, the large sailboats, cogs, hulks, and caravels sailed down the Elbe to the North Sea and from there into the big world. There used to be even more ships arriving and departing from this port, but ever since a Portuguese man named Vasco da Gama had found the sea passage to India about ten years ago, many of the Augsburg and Nuremberg merchants had chosen different routes. Also, pirates occasionally frequented these shores. The heads of those captured were stuck on pikes next to the execution site on Grasbrook, an island in the Elbe.
The shows always took place in the morning, and every afternoon Johann left their camp by the river while Karl and Satan watched the wagon and prepared for the next show.
“Are you perhaps going to a bordello after all?” asked Karl, who was used to his master not telling him where he was going. “The Hamburg whores are famous. It might prove a pleasant distraction for you.”
Johann shrugged. “Indeed, I am frequenting a house that brings me pleasure—even if it isn’t the kind of pleasure you’re imagining. Oh, and by the way, when I return, you’ll have brewed two dozen bottles of theriac. Those seamen drink like fish. And remember the glass painting of the pirate. I want it done by tomorrow.” With those words, he left and headed into town.
Johann followed the stinking canals until he came to the city hall by the Trostbrücke Bridge. The city hall was a redbrick building multiple stories high, and he’d visited it several times in the last few days. A small side entrance led to a flight of stairs. A little man sat behind a desk on the second floor, nodding happily at Johann.
“Ah, the famous scholar Doctor Faustus,” he said and adjusted his monocle. “Yes, yes, always on the hunt for fresh knowledge. And everyone knows that studying the papers leads to a dry throat.”
Like every other day, Johann handed the man a bottle of theriac. “I haven’t even studied half of your books yet,” he grumbled. “If you continue to drink at this pace, I’ll soon be out of theriac for my shows.”
The bald, scrawny old man in his fur-lined coat and dirty beret grinned with a toothless mouth. “Well, a few drunken spectators less won’t hurt. What does it matter—when the door to the world of knowledge is wide open!”
He pulled a long key from his pocket and opened the door behind him. On the other side was a high-ceilinged room with bookshelves reaching from top to bottom. Ladders provided access to the books on the highest shelves. The boards were bending under the weight of the books and parchment scrolls, and the air smelled musty and leathery. To Johann the scent was like violets. The little man made a sweeping gesture. “This library is yours, venerable Doctor—at least until the bells strike six. Then my shift is over.” He closed the door behind Johann.
Johann looked around reverently. He still struggled to believe he was the only person in this room, just like the days before. That night near Wittenberge by the Elbe, when he’d seen the dark figure, he’d remembered something from fifteen years ago. Magister Archibaldus came from Hamburg, and on their journey to Venice he’d told Johann about a library. The Hamburg Ratsbibliothek was the only public library in the entire German empire. Usually such hoards of knowledge were in private ownership of universities or monasteries whose abbots would never grant entry to the alleged sorcerer and necromancer Doctor Johann Georg Faustus. Here, however, he was free to browse for as long as he liked. The Ratsbibliothek was bigger than the library at the monastery in Maulbronn that he used to visit with Father Antonius, and bigger than that of the creepy Signore Barbarese in Venice. The Hamburg library held many ecclesiastical works but also many secular ones—philosophical treatises as well as Greek dramas and scientific books. Johann had even found some notes by Leonardo da Vinci.
But what he was really after was works on astronomy that would help