“But I promise you one thing, boy: I’m keeping an eye on you. And I’ll find out about your dark secret.”
9
THEY LEFT AUGSBURG the following morning, using the same gate through which Johann had entered the city the day before. He turned to cast one last glance at the famous golden city with its towers, patrician palaces, and mighty cathedral. But he no longer felt awe. After just one night, Johann’s enthusiasm had given way to the conviction that there was as much poverty and misery in the empire’s wealthiest city as anywhere else. Only very few were benefiting from the new times the wine merchant had spoken of, while the rest went hungry and struggled to get their children through the next winter or the next drought.
Feeling much better than the night before, Johann walked beside the only slightly damaged wagon drawn by a skinny gray horse. Emilio had managed to sell the second, broken wagon and the old nag to the Augsburg knacker. They hadn’t gotten much, but it would be enough to have the other wagon fixed up in the next town. And they’d bought some food for their journey.
The road followed the Lech River, which was already busy this time of year. The troupe passed rafts laden with wine, oil, and bales of fabric, which were wrapped in a waxed layer to protect them from water. Watching all the action coming downstream, Johann tried to imagine how difficult it must have been to cart all those wares across the mountains. Now he’d be making the same journey, only in the opposite direction.
Peter Nachtigall sat on the box seat with the reins in his hand and stared straight ahead. His eye looked even worse than the day before, and he still wore the bandage around his skull. Johann guessed it would take some time before the troupe’s leader would say more than a few words to him. Peter still didn’t seem fully convinced that this serious-looking smart aleck was a good addition to his troupe. But at least Emilio and Salome were on Johann’s side. He wasn’t so sure about Mustafa—the hulking man hadn’t uttered a single word so far. Johann suspected he was mute.
Salome, Emilio, and Mustafa also walked alongside the wagon. The group headed south at a leisurely pace, straight toward the Alps. When Johann discerned the mountains as a white ribbon on the horizon, he walked a little faster. Finally he had a destination. He would see Venice, the best-known city in the world! All he knew about Venice so far were the stories his mother had told him. Apparently, the city was built on islands in the sea and crossed by countless canals. The roofs of the houses gleamed like pure gold, and every day, ships arrived carrying spices and the strangest goods from Africa and India. Hundreds of Christian pilgrims started their journeys to Jerusalem in Venice. For the first time in days, Johann managed to forget Tonio and the gruesome experience in the woods.
Salome was walking a few steps ahead of him. Suddenly she climbed a small tree by the wayside, as nimble as a cat, sat on a branch, and winked at him. Johann looked away with embarrassment. He wasn’t sure what the exotic beauty, with her long black hair and voluptuous curves, thought of him. He guessed Salome to be in her late twenties, and if he interpreted Emilio’s looks and gestures correctly, the two of them were an item. But he wasn’t certain. He decided to be careful, in any case. The last thing he needed right now was more trouble.
Johann could hear soft, flat singing from inside the wagon. It was Magister Archibaldus, who had slept late and now seemed to liven up. So far, Johann had only seen him drunk or asleep.
“Hey, boy!” Peter Nachtigall whistled and nodded at Johann. “Do me a favor and check on the old drunkard in the back, will you? I’ve got a feeling he’s on the wine again. I want to give a show at Landsberg tonight and need him sober.”
Johann nodded, glad that Peter had given him a task. He jumped on the back of the wagon, pushed aside the canvas, and climbed in. He was immediately enveloped by a cloud of alcohol fumes and the smell of old man. The wagon was loaded heavily with chests and sacks. In one corner, Archibaldus was leaning over an open chest and seemed to be searching for something, humming softly to