The Master's Apprentice - Oliver Potzsch Page 0,210

about to happen? But what?

Larua . . . evil spirit . . .

Johann remembered Margarethe talking about the boogeyman in Heidelberg.

He will return, she’d said. He will return and change the world.

Johann had always assumed that she’d only imagined this boogeyman, or perhaps that it was some sort of scoundrel—a rogue in the woods.

But he’d never have guessed it was a comet.

He put down his quill and leaned back. His eyes hurt from all the reading. Could it be possible? And if so, what did he have to do with it all? What was the meaning of being born on Larua’s day, on the day of the prophet, and why had Tonio given him the black potion on the day of the comet’s return?

And most importantly, what was going to happen in two months’ time?

Johann spent the following days and weeks pondering the matter and consulting the books. He found no further answers, but at least he knew now that he had to wait. Something was going to happen. His will to live had returned. During the day, he often went for walks with Little Satan and Karl and spent time atop the platform. He enjoyed the fresh air stimulating his thoughts and the easy conversations with Karl as they roamed through the woods. He still spotted crows in the branches of trees, and one time even a raven, but they no longer frightened him. They were envoys of an event that would inevitably arrive, and he would be prepared—for whatever might happen.

And then something really did happen. It was a day in early February, and Johann was standing atop the tower, wrapped in his warm coat and wearing his floppy hat, gazing at the mountains through the tube. An ice-cold wind was blowing hard into Johann’s face, but there could be no doubt.

A horseman was approaching from the edge of the woods.

At first it was just a dark spot, as if a fly had landed on the front of the tube. But the spot was growing as it moved along the road. Then the figure turned off the main road and took the narrow dirt track that led to the tower.

Johann was still standing on the rooftop. Now he watched the rider’s approach with his bare eyes. He was a tall man wearing a coat and a sparkling cuirass underneath. A longsword was fastened to a bag behind the saddle. The horse was black and powerful, no cheap nag but a destrier that probably cost as much as a whole tavern.

Now the man had spotted Johann. He raised his hand in greeting, galloped the last few yards up the hill, and climbed off his horse.

Then he waited.

Pensively, Johann climbed down the stairs. He didn’t know who the stranger was or what had brought him to the tower. At least the man had come alone—so clearly this wasn’t about arresting him and taking him to jail. Could he be a delegate from the bishop of Cologne? Johann doubted the power of the Cologne Inquisition reached this far. And the horseman looked not like a man of the church but more like a knight.

Could he be the first messenger of what was to come? A first sign of Larua’s return?

“What’s happened?” asked Karl, who was sitting at the chess table with a book. He looked up with confusion as Johann strode past him toward the door.

“We have a visitor. And it isn’t anyone from the village.”

He took one last deep breath before opening the door and stepping outside. The man awaiting him indeed seemed to be a knight. He was wearing armor, and now Johann also saw the black cross on his coat. It was the cross of the Teutonic Knights—an ancient order that had been formed in the times of the Crusades and that still wielded a lot of influence at courts throughout the empire. Johann was startled.

What in God’s name could the Teutonic Knights want from him?

“Are you Doctor Johann Georg Faustus?” asked the knight, who looked like an old battle-axe with countless scars on his face. He was at least six feet tall and of impressive stature. Johann nodded and said nothing.

“I’ve been sent by Wolfgang von Eisenhofen,” said the knight, his harness creaking in the cold. “The commander of the Nuremberg Teutonic Knights. He asks you to come to Nuremberg. An old friend is waiting for you there.”

“An old friend?” Johann raised an eyebrow. “His name?”

“I’m not permitted to say. You will be told everything else at