Frank Schätzing - Death and the Devil

Johann started to speak, then breathed out slowly and shook his head.

“I agree with you,” Matthias assured him. “We can’t let it come to a bloodbath. But we’ve gone too far. There was a point when we could have turned back, but we passed that long ago.”

“With Gerhard.”

“Precisely. With Gerhard. Gerhard is dead. There was a witness. Agreed, not everything has gone as planned, but if we give up now, everything will have been in vain. The people will have died in vain. Gerhard will have died in vain.”

Johann remained silent.

Matthias sat down and looked at them one after the other. “I think there is one chance. If we can show that the redhead is a liar and a thief, then people won’t believe those he’s told either. That leaves just one person who’s a real danger to us.”

“Kuno,” Daniel murmured.

All eyes turned toward him.

“You will keep quiet,” growled Johann. “You’ve done enough damage already.”

Daniel leaned forward. He looked terrible. His face was swollen and partly covered in blue bruises, his nose just a shapeless lump. But the gleam of hatred in his eyes was unchanged.

“I know what I’ve done,” he said calmly. “Nevertheless, if Matthias goes to see Urquhart, he should impress on him the need to get rid of Kuno.”

“We’re not going to sacrifice another person just to please you!” Johann shouted. “Once and for all, there have been enough—”

“That is precisely what we will do,” Matthias interrupted. “For once I agree with Daniel. If Kuno decides to give evidence against us, we really do have a problem, a bloody big problem.”

“Why should Kuno do that?” asked Heinrich.

Daniel gave a hoarse laugh. “Why? Because I damn near killed him, that’s why.”

“As long as I preside over this alliance—” Johann began to say.

Matthias shot up. “But you no longer preside over it.”

“I don’t? Who says so?”

“I do. If there’s anyone to whom we owe responsibility, it’s your mother, Blithildis.”

“As if that meant anything to you! I wonder now whether you ever believed in our common goal. You’re not doing any of this for my mother—don’t try to fool me—and even less for those who are imprisoned or banned. Everything you’ve done was serving your own interests and your own balance sheet.”

“And whose interests are served by your sudden withdrawal, your ridiculous scruples?”

Heinrich von Mainz stood up. “I’m leaving. We’re not going to come to any decision.”

“No! You stay!” Matthias barked.

“I will not be—”

“Sit down!”

There was an embarrassed silence. Heinrich stared at Matthias, seething with fury. Then he lowered his eyes and sat back down on the gold-embroidered cushion.

Matthias waited a moment, but no one said anything. Then he went and stood at the farther end of the table, leaning on his knuckles, his eyes fixed on Johann.

“What we are doing is right,” he insisted. “I’m not looking for a quarrel, Johann. Forgive me if I was lacking in due respect. We’re in a difficult situation and I can understand if some of us feel the pressure of the last few days has been too much. But don’t you agree that we have all come too far together to turn back now? One last time I beg you to vote for our plan, to trust me one last time. I beg you! Tomorrow will be a day of rejoicing, our enemies will wail and gnash their teeth, and no one will be interested in a few nobodies trying to draw attention to themselves by claiming Gerhard was pushed. Tomorrow we’ll have a new world. And nothing will happen to Kuno, I promise. I will just get Urquhart to keep him quiet until it’s all over. As God is my witness, there will be no more killings. Believe me! Believe in our cause, Johann, I beg you. We will triumph. We will triumph.”

Johann rubbed his eyes and slumped back in his chair. “Where do you think Kuno and that woman will have gone to hide?” he asked.

“I don’t know. His house? The dean’s? Or perhaps to her house?”

“Where does she live?”

“I will find out.”

“Now? It’s the middle of the night. You’re due to meet Urquhart.”

Matthias gave a grim smile. “I have found out other things in much shorter time.”

Goddert was sitting by the fire, his chin on his chest, snoring quietly. Beside him was Daniel’s sword. Kuno lay unconscious on the chest between the front and back rooms. They had carefully carried him there because it was the warmest place in the house. Jaspar had managed to staunch the blood, but the young man was in a bad way.

They held out their hands to the fire, waiting for him to regain consciousness and tell them why the world was so terribly different since Gerhard’s death. Outside, the wind was rattling at the shutters with undiminished violence.

“Will he pull through?” Jacob asked after a while.

“Hmm,” said Jaspar.

Jacob looked up. “What does ‘hmm’ mean?”

“He’s lost a lot of blood, but I’ve managed to close his wounds and it looks as if no vital organs are damaged. Otherwise he’d be dead already. Now he’s in a fever. All we can do is wait.”

“I hope he comes round.” Richmodis sighed. “He knows the truth.”

“Don’t bank on it. We have to work out what’s going to happen ourselves.” He stroked his bald head. “What I’m asking myself is, who else is involved?”

Goddert’s stomach rumbled in his sleep and he smacked his lips.

“The Devil,” suggested Richmodis.

“How unimaginative,” said Jaspar reproachfully. “Please think of something helpful. The Devil’s behind every piece of villainy, that’s nothing new.”

“No, that’s not what I meant. I was facing him in the old warehouse today, the stranger, I mean—the Devil seemed to be inside him. It was odd. He filled me with fear, but at the same time I had a feeling of great closeness, as if it would take almost nothing, a mere trifle to make him quite different, the complete opposite. I suddenly felt the urge—”

“Yes?” Jaspar asked, alert. “To do what?”

“Better not say. You’ll be having me exorcised.”

“You felt the urge to touch him.”

She gave him a look of surprise and blushed.

“That’s all right,” said Jaspar. “Christ and Antichrist, one and the same. Do you know what makes evil so fascinating? Its tragic nature. The Devil is a fallen angel. Look at Kuno. He seems to have decided to get out of hell and become an angel again. That means it can work the other way around as well and that gives me hope. Our enemies are not only ranged against us—they’re against one another, too.”

“But there is a difference between fighting against men of flesh and blood and against the Devil,” said Jacob. “I’m not sure who or what I saw on the scaffolding. As I said, it could have been a man, but the way he came after me was simply too fast for a man. He jumped down like a cat. It could have been a tail streaming out behind him.”

“That’s enough of that!” Jaspar was angry. “You’re coming out with the same nonsense as all the credulous folk who go goggle-eyed as soon as the magician says Casisa, hasisa, mesisa medantor , or some such rigmarole. Good God, you’re about as stupid as the peasant who won’t slaughter a pig on Saint Gall’s day for fear the meat will taste of gall. Did he have a tail, Richmodis?”

“No. His hair came down to his waist. That was the tail.”

“There you are.”

“But the Devil was in his eyes.”

“More peasant nonsense.” Jaspar groaned. “Why this relapse into ignorance? Surely you’ve heard me trying to demonstrate the power of reason to your father often enough. Has nothing rubbed off?”