The Master's Apprentice - Oliver Potzsch Page 0,54

and work on your horoscope,” he said and then gestured at Johann. “My apprentice will keep you company. He is skilled in the art of palm reading. Perhaps one or two of you would like to know what life has in store for you.” Tonio winked at Johann before climbing the stairs that led up to the quarters the farmer had prepared for his two widely traveled guests.

The family stared at Johann anxiously. For the first time, he could understand what it felt like to be a traveling magician—respected and feared at the same time, an outcast and yet admired. He possessed a knowledge that was inaccessible to simple people. His words—a single look, even—decided the fates of entire villages and towns.

After a few moments, the corpulent farmer’s wife shuffled closer to him and held out her trembling hand. “The last harvest was good,” she began haltingly, speaking with a throaty accent Johann struggled to understand. “But a lightning strike destroyed our bakehouse just as I was carrying the bucket to the well. Is lightning going to strike me down next time I leave the house in foul weather?”

Johann took her right hand and tried to remember everything the master had told him and what was written in the old book. First he felt the woman’s hand to see if it was clammy or dry, and whether there were many calluses and cracks from hard work. He could already draw some conclusions from that. Then he studied the various lines and mounts.

“The lightning that struck your bakehouse was a warning,” he said in a low, mysterious voice. “But if you continue to fulfill your duties as good Christians and give shelter to pilgrims and travelers, no harm or storms will come to you. I can’t see any serious misfortunes in the coming years.”

Indeed, the woman’s Life line ran deeply and evenly, and she looked well fed and healthy. Johann told her a few more things about her godly marriage and future blessings. Then a pretty maidservant came and held out her hand shyly.

“Should I stay with this farmer after Candlemas, or should I find somewhere else?” she whispered.

Johann could tell by her frightened eyes and the sour look on the face of the farmer’s wife that there was bad blood between the two women. He studied her lines, especially the Heart line, which was broken and splintered. “You better find a new place to work,” he replied quietly so the others wouldn’t hear. “You’ll find happiness somewhere else.”

He proceeded similarly with the next two candidates, a worker and another young maid. He looked at their lines, but what he mostly tried to do was find out what their fears and worries were and what they were hoping to hear from him. Johann realized the art of chiromancy was both easier and more complicated than merely applying knowledge from books. It was about really listening to people, and the hand was just an aide.

Finally, the corpulent wife pushed one of her sons toward him. He was a handsome lad of about eight years, whose curious, alert eyes reminded Johann of himself as a boy. As was customary for a son of a well-to-do farmer, his hair was cut above the ears, which made him look more slow witted than he probably was.

“This is Rafael,” said the farmer’s wife, stroking the boy’s hair adoringly. “My youngest and most beloved. The priest reckons he’s smart and ought to attend a higher school eventually—perhaps at Innsbruck, even! What do you think, Master?”

Johann smiled. Evidently, the wife thought he was a gentleman or at least a scholar. Sometimes professors and students traveled from town to town, earning money as scribes. Those students were usually university dropouts who thought they were superior, but they actually were the most educated people many of the rural villagers would ever meet.

Johann picked up the boy’s hand and studied it closely. His Head line was very strong indeed, but the bright eyes had already told Johann that Rafael wasn’t silly. He was about to speak when an odd feeling startled him. It was like a gentle, warm throbbing coming from the boy’s hand, as if the lines lit up underneath the skin for a brief moment.

And then he knew. The realization hit him like a blow.

The boy didn’t have long to live.

It was nothing more than a dark premonition; the glow beneath the skin had long gone, but Johann sensed it very strongly.

The mother seemed to notice that something was