Читаем Death and the Devil полностью

But first there was this night to get through. Urquhart had one more task before he could carry out the deed Matthias was longing to see. It gave him grim satisfaction to think that, however much what he was about to do ran counter to Johann’s wishes, it would receive Blithildis’s approval. She was the only person he really admired. She was an Overstolz, she was strength, power, even if she was blind and tied to her chair. She should have been his mother, not Johann’s.

He quickly went over what he had found out. Urquhart’s hostage was a Richmodis von Weiden. She lived on the Brook, together with her father. He knew the house. Jaspar von Rodenkirchen had no other relatives, only a servant, a cook, and a cleaning woman. Where the two women were, he had no idea. The servant was dead.

They were doomed. Urquhart would find them.

Suddenly Matthias felt the confidence well up inside him. Looking around to see that no one was watching, he slipped into a doorway. Beyond it yawned the emptiness of a huge courtyard. The howling storm was not so bad in the protection of its walls. By day flax and candles were sold here; now it was deserted. Heavy curtains of rain billowed before him.

He blinked and rubbed the water out of his eyes. Then he saw the immense shadow coming toward him through the downpour.

“I expected you sooner,” said Urquhart. His voice was as calm as ever, almost friendly, but a hint of sharpness was still audible.

“I came as quickly as I could.”

“Of course.”

“Have you gotten anywhere?”

Urquhart made a dismissive gesture. “I’ve been to the dean’s. Nobody there. They’re not that stupid.”

“Then go to Kuno’s. No, wait, leave that till last. There are too many other people there, servants and the like.”

“I wouldn’t bother with Kuno’s. Little Kuno escaped with the woman. Daniel—your noble family can be proud of him—was kind enough to poke a few holes in him.” Urquhart gave a mocking smile and threw his head back, letting the water run down over his face. “Women are such caring creatures. Softhearted. If they find a rabbit that’s been hurt they take it home and look after it.”

Matthias returned his smile. “I’ll tell you where to find her. Do what you can. Kill them all, if you like.”

“All? I couldn’t say who they all are anymore. Can you?”

“No. It’s enough if you eliminate one.”

“Who?” Urquhart said in the tone of a man who already knows.

Matthias spat on the ground. “The weakling.”

ON THE BROOK

“And the end of the story?” asked Jacob.

“Is quickly told,” said Jaspar.

Goddert gave them a disgruntled look and put a couple of logs on the fire. There was a crackling and whistling as air and moisture escaped.

“We ought to be doing something instead of philosophizing about history,” he muttered.

Jaspar disagreed. “We are doing something by philosophizing about history,” he said. “We know the conspirators and we know they have something planned. We still don’t know what or when. The answer must lie in the recent past.” He massaged the bridge of his nose. “After the Great Adjudication.”

“The ‘Great’?” asked Jacob.

“Yes,” said Richmodis, “there was another. Two years ago, when Conrad claimed there was a plot on his life.”

“Conrad would have lost that war, too,” Jaspar continued. “He was forced to make peace with the patricians. But he was still dangerous. And the conflict between patricians and tradesmen had reached the point where there were frequent armed clashes. On top of that there was the threat of civil war among the patricians, since they were split between the Overstolzes and their allies and the Weises. The Weises are the oldest merchant family in Cologne; compared to them the Overstolzes are nouveaux riches. The two groups had never been particularly fond of each other, but as long as there was a common enemy, the archbishop, they pulled together, more or less. But as the Overstolzes’ influence grew, the Weises looked for an ally. They found one in the archbishop.”

“Not really,” objected Goddert. “They supported the authorities. They behaved with dignity.”

“With dignity? They sold themselves. Not very wise, despite their name, to trust Conrad, if you ask me.”

“He’s our lord and master,” Goddert declared, “and it is not the place of his subjects to question his authority. Apart from his perhaps overly secular approach—”

“You’re talking like a priest.”

“And you are one.”

“Dean, if you please. Anyway, the Weises got nothing out of their treachery.”

“But—”

“Let me finish. Trusting Conrad is like holding out your hand to a mad dog. Everyone knows what happened in Neuss in 1255.”

“That was never proved.”