The Master's Apprentice - Oliver Potzsch Page 0,196
stuck in soft, sandy ruts and they’d have to push the wagon out like from a snowdrift. Once they started to travel along rivers again, the roads became better. Every time they passed through a new county or a new small barony, they had to pay road tolls. The whole empire was like a threadbare carpet sewn from countless tiny scraps and held together only by an emperor who was as far away as the moon.
The closer they came to the Rhine Valley, the lovelier the landscape became. The first vineyards appeared. Finally, twelve exhausting days of travel later, they looked upon the wide ribbon of the Rhine, and they knew it wouldn’t be far to Cologne now.
So far, Johann had avoided the city of Cologne, which was one of the largest in the empire. The prior of the Dominican monastery of Cologne was also the papal inquisitor, and he had a reputation for being particularly strict with alleged heretics. Also, the city was a famous pilgrimage destination with countless relics, most notably the remains of the three wise men. Magicians and chiromancers weren’t well received in such a place. But the reputation of the legendary Doctor Faustus had even reached Cologne. When Johann loudly declared his name at the city gate, the guards discussed for a while before allowing him in—not without confiscating one or two bottles of theriac. Satan was lying in the back of the wagon. It was difficult enough to gain entrance to the city without the oversized animal, and the dog had been increasingly dragging her right hind leg. Johann was worried about her.
In the northeast, the unfinished spire of the cathedral rose up. The people of Cologne had been working on this architectural masterpiece for more than two hundred and fifty years, and it still wasn’t finished. The city was speckled with smaller and larger churches, and almost every single one exhibited some reliquary or other. On their way through the busy streets, they passed many pilgrims with staffs and humble clothing. After Rome and Santiago de Compostela, Cologne was the best-known pilgrimage destination in the Western world. But the city was also a place of learning and boasted one of the largest universities of the empire. The famous Albertus Magnus, whom Johann had venerated since his days at Maulbronn Monastery, had studied theology and been ordained a priest here.
“And where do you propose to find this Agrippa?” asked Karl as they drove the wagon through the narrow, unpaved lanes toward the river. By now Johann had forgiven him for the affair in Hamburg, but he hadn’t told Karl what exactly he was hoping to gain from meeting Agrippa. He had merely said he was looking forward to an exchange between learned men.
“Well, Heinrich Agrippa of Nettesheim is no stranger in Cologne,” replied Johann. “The bottles of theriac for the guards were a sound investment. They gave me his address. Apparently he lives near the hay market with his sister, who cooks for him. It shouldn’t be far now.”
They turned onto another narrow lane and neared a two-story half-timbered house that was freshly painted and appeared generally well looked-after. Johann felt himself growing nervous. What if Agrippa refused to receive him? After all, most scholars considered Johann to be nothing but a fraud. Or what if Agrippa couldn’t help him? The whole idea—the hasty departure from Hamburg, the hope to learn more about his birth from the famous scholar—suddenly seemed awfully naive. What could he expect? But it was too late to turn back now.
“Wait here,” said Johann to Karl. He climbed down from the box seat, walked over to the house, and pulled on the string that operated a bell inside. After a few long moments, a plump young woman wearing a bonnet and an apron opened the door. She gave Johann a friendly albeit reserved look. It seemed she was used to supplicants.
Johann cleared his throat. “My name is Doctor Johann Georg Faustus. I am looking for the eminent scholar Heinrich Cornelius Agrippa of Nettesheim. Can you tell me where to find him?”
“My brother is still at the university,” the woman replied curtly. “He’ll be home soon. You best wait outside.”
Johann was about to make a reply, but Agrippa’s sister had already closed the door. With a frown he returned to Karl, who was trying to chase away a bunch of nosy street kids. This wasn’t going the way he’d hoped at all.
Soon, a crowd had gathered around the wagon. Johann was