The Master's Apprentice - Oliver Potzsch Page 0,81

all the splendor of this wealthy place. Perhaps it hadn’t been such a good idea to come to Augsburg, the golden city, after all. What was he doing here, surrounded by rich, confidence-oozing burghers? He reached another square and thought the huge building at its far end must be the city hall; it wasn’t far from the cathedral. A crowd had formed outside the building. At first Johann thought it was another type of market, but then he heard a loud, cheerful voice and stopped.

“Not three, not four, no, five balls are going to be juggled by our very own Emilio! Only the most talented jugglers can accomplish this feat. Watch and be amazed!”

Johann smiled. He thought about the time he and Tonio traveled from village to village as jugglers. It seemed like an eternity ago, though only a few months had passed since then. He made his way through the spectators and soon caught sight of two wagons with colorful canvases. Between them, blue and red ribbons roped off an area where a juggler was throwing leather balls into the air, accompanied by a man on the fiddle. Both wore the typical colorful garb of a juggler: yellow and red for one, the other one clad in green and blue.

The juggler—Emilio, evidently—didn’t look much older than Johann, while the fiddle player was probably past thirty. He had fiery red hair and a raw face with a huge beak of a nose. He played faster and faster while the boy threw the balls higher and higher. Small bells attached to the juggler’s clothes jingled to the beat of the music. His curly brown hair and his handsome, dark face suggested he came from southern lands.

“And now, it is my pleasure to introduce to you the beautiful Princess Salome from the Orient! Once upon a time she turned the head of John the Baptist,” announced the fiddler loudly. “Watch and be amazed! But beware, dear husbands—it’s going to be hard to remain faithful to your wives at the sight of the princess.”

A young woman emerged from behind one of the wagons, and a murmur went through the crowd. Her jet-black hair reached down to her hips. Her skin was dark—almost as dark as a Moor’s. A fire burned in her eyes, and her mouth was hidden behind a veil. She was dressed in colorful silk scarves that she twirled all around herself as the fiddler played an exotic-sounding tune. She moved her hips suggestively as she danced, causing some of the spectators to sigh out loud.

A hulk of a man who was just as dark skinned appeared behind her. He wore tight leggings, and nothing but a leather vest covered his chest, revealing his bulging muscles. He stared straight ahead with dark eyes, his strong arms crossed in front of him. The giant’s head was as bald as an egg.

“Mustafa the Strong, an Ottoman eunuch, is always at Salome’s side, watching over her,” the fiddler declared. “Beware of him! He can rip out entire trees with his arms and bend iron rods. He will demonstrate his skills shortly. But now, behold the Princess Salome!”

On cue, the foreign-looking girl pulled from under her dress several wooden skittles painted gold. She began throwing them to Emilio, one after the other. For each skittle, Emilio threw one ball to her. The woman continued to dance while she managed to keep the balls and skittles in the air like pearls on a string. The crowd exploded in raucous applause. The male spectators couldn’t stop gaping. With her low-cut outfit and wide hips, Salome did indeed look like a princess from the Far East. Her flowing black hair was stunning. Women never wore their hair down in public—only dancers and other dishonorable folk went out without a bonnet. Salome, however, wore her hair as proudly as precious jewelry.

The fiddler played one last quick run that ended on a high-pitched, mournful note—and suddenly the balls disappeared, swallowed up by Salome’s flowing garments. The juggler caught the skittles, and together they bowed to the fierce applause of the people of Augsburg.

Johann grinned. The show wasn’t bad, even if he’d seen better in Knittlingen. Some jugglers performed their tricks with closed eyes or while balancing on a rope; others ate fire or swallowed entire swords. But this girl was as beautiful as the dawn, and the red-haired fiddler played like the devil. Together with the rest of the audience, Johann felt transported to a different, faraway country.

The fiddle player,