The Master's Apprentice - Oliver Potzsch Page 0,28

had gone up to seven, and all of them came from in and around Knittlingen.

But the children weren’t the only topic of conversation at the fair. In the summer of 1493, the wise old emperor Friedrich, who had ruled the country for half a century, had died after a prolonged battle with a gangrenous leg. His son Maximilian, an adventurous knight who loved jousting, was now the sole German king. Word from faraway Granada was that the heathen Moors had finally been banished from Spain for good. And a Genoese man supposedly had found a new sea route to India and China via the Atlantic, although most people doubted it. Why should this nobody of a man succeed where the Portuguese had been trying and failing for many years? Although they had been following the coastline of Africa to the south—a lost cause. News from the Alsace was more reliable: another peasant uprising had been crushed swiftly; the leaders, as usual, had been drawn and quartered as a warning to others.

These days, messengers on horseback spread such stories faster than wildfire. The old folks shook their heads, reminiscing over a cup of mulled wine about the good old days when politics ended behind the next hill and God alone steered history.

Johann looked around and noticed some whispering girls glancing in his direction. He guessed they were gossiping about him and Margarethe. He’d spoken with her only a handful of times since her brother’s accident. Every time he asked her about the impending marriage, she avoided his question. It was as if she had closed her eyes to what awaited her. Johann hoped to run into her at the fair soon. He might even snatch a few moments alone with her, like in the old days.

There was no sign of the magician on the square or in the lanes around Saint Leonhard’s Church. Had he left town already? Surely the fair meant lucrative business for him. But deep down, Johann was glad he didn’t have to see the eerie foreigner again. The man reminded him too much of Ludwig’s cruel death. Still, he couldn’t get the magician out of his head, like a melody that had etched itself into his memory.

“Will th . . . the devil get me, too, if I’m n . . . naughty?” said a familiar voice beside him.

Johann looked down and sighed. He thought he’d shaken his little brother, but now Martin had found him again. The boy clung to the tail of his shirt, afraid of losing his big brother in the crowd once more. Spellbound, Martin watched the puppets in a theater show moving back and forth in the window of a shabby box with filthy curtains and a painted background. Just then the devil himself appeared, dragging a poor sinner in the shape of a monk into the abyss. Johann couldn’t help but smile.

“No, Martin, he won’t,” he said. “The devil only takes bad children.”

“Did he also take the seven children that have gone missing?”

“You’re talking nonsense. Satan has better things to do than take a bunch of brats to hell. But if you keep clinging to me like a burr, he just might.”

He tried to walk away, but Martin followed him like a puppy. Annoyed, Johann spun around.

“I’m looking for Margarethe, and you’re slowing me down.”

“I know wh . . . where she is,” Martin said proudly. “I saw her not long ago. If . . . if you take me with you, I can show you.”

Johann rolled his eyes and took Martin by the hand. “You win. Take me to her.”

Margarethe was sitting on the edge of a fountain a little way off the market square. She seemed deep in thought. Her brother’s death had hit her quite hard, considering she’d feared Ludwig more than she’d loved him. Unlike her mother, though, she no longer wore black. It had been a terrible accident, but now life went on.

“May I?” Johann sat down beside her, and she smiled.

“I’ve got a stomachache from all the sweets,” she said. “I think that’s one thing about the fair that never changes. Not as far as I can think back, anyhow.”

Johann laughed. “Do you remember the time we ate so much candy that I spewed on your lovely white dress? Your father gave me a good belting. And Ludwig—” He broke off. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I wasn’t thinking.”

Margarethe shrugged. “It’s all right. He was a monster, even though he was my brother. We both