The Master's Apprentice - Oliver Potzsch Page 0,200

long did it take them to travel here? Since the times of Aristotle people have believed comets are atmospheric evaporations or harbingers of bad news of future events. But I believe they come from much farther away—farther even than the wise astronomer Johannes Müller suspected, but at least he defined them as independent celestial bodies.” Agrippa sighed. “It is such a pity our eyes can’t see what’s beyond the eighth sphere.” He gestured at the laterna magica in a corner of the room. “It’s a pretty toy, your apparatus. But I wonder if it could also be used differently. Those lenses you used . . .” He hesitated.

“What about them?”

Agrippa picked up the frameless eye glasses he wore occasionally and studied them pensively. “If we look through lenses, we see better. We’ve known that since the times of Roger Bacon. But what if we could also better see what’s in the heavens? If we could see farther, we might understand what makes your birth so special. You speak of a curse—why?”

Johann hesitated.

“Have you ever heard of a Gilles de Rais?” he asked eventually.

Agrippa touched his nose, thinking. Johann thought for the briefest moment he saw a flicker in the scholar’s eyes. “I’m afraid I haven’t,” he replied. “Should I have?”

Johann watched Agrippa closely, but the man’s expression remained neutral. If he was lying, he was very good at it.

“It’s not important. Please excuse the question.” Johann gave a shrug. “Concerning the curse . . . it is as if someone were giving me all the wisdom, all the knowledge in the world, while at the same time placing obstacles in my way. Terrible things have happened all my life, but I was always told that I was blessed with luck. Born on the day of the prophet—how does that fit together with all the awful things that have happened to me? I finally want to know who I am. Do you understand? Only then will my searching come to an end.”

“Who you are?” Agrippa couldn’t hold back a smile. “Since when do people want to know who they are? An unusual question, don’t you think? Somewhat . . . new.” He laughed. “But then again, you are an unusual person, Doctor Faustus—almost like a new specimen of our kind.”

Johann was so engrossed in his discussions with Agrippa that he sometimes forgot that he had an assistant. Karl did as he pleased in Cologne, and aside from mealtimes, they didn’t see each other. Johann didn’t look after Karl as he had pledged that he would after they’d first met. His thirst for knowledge was stronger than their friendship.

And so fate—or the curse Johann had spoken about—took its course once again.

Karl heard the sounds of music, laughter, and shattering glass as he staggered out of the tavern down by the Rhine and turned his face into the autumn rain. The Black Whale was a disreputable hole, but nevertheless it was frequented by gentlemen of the upper classes. They usually sat in the back, wearing wide-brimmed hats and plain coats to hide their expensive clothing. It wasn’t long before a handsome young lad would take a seat beside one such gentleman, and a while later the pair would disappear up a narrow set of stairs.

Karl, too, had been upstairs a few times.

There were days when he cursed himself for what he was doing. Why had God punished him with this vice? He knew it was a cardinal sin punishable with death by fire, but his flesh was weak. Why couldn’t he simply love girls like other young men did? It drove him crazy. If what he was doing was a sin, then why had God made him this way? Was it a test, just like the Lord had tested Job? Karl was too afraid even to confess his sins at church now—he feared the priest would disregard the seal of confession. Instead Karl launched himself from one amorous adventure to the next, drowning his guilty conscience with wine and schnapps at the Black Whale.

Suddenly Karl felt nauseated, and he staggered toward the Rhine as quickly as he could, dropped to his knees, and vomited. The lights of the taverns along the port were reflected in the water; they were low, huddled buildings near the docks, warehouses, and fish markets; they lured patrons with whores and other guilty pleasures. Karl retched. If only he could rid himself of his urge this way! Just spew it out like those possessed by the devil sometimes spewed