Oliver Pötzsch - The Werewolf of Bamberg

“Very well,” he said. “Today I’ll just give you a warning. But if we meet alone in the forest again-”

“That’s enough, you windbag, now step aside.”

Jakob squeezed past him and left with his brother. Soon they were alone on the path through the forest.

Bartholomäus shook his head. “‘Your children will become sick and your wives dry and infertile’? How did you think up that nonsense?”

Jakob grinned. “Should I have painted my face black and shouted boo to scare them? Sometimes it’s an advantage when the people are afraid of you. You probably know that just as well as I do, Brother.”

Bartholomäus chuckled, then he looked suspiciously at his brother. “Aloysius says you’re asking dumb questions,” he said. “Why?”

“Why don’t you tell me what you’re doing in the forest when you should be in town cleaning out the moats?”

“That doesn’t concern you.” Bartholomäus suddenly turned and hobbled along ahead, as if trying to avoid bothersome questions. “Georg has already started shoveling, and there’s enough time for me to take a break.”

“Forget about the shoveling. There are much more important things to do.”

Something in Jakob’s voice caused Bartholomäus to stop in his tracks. He turned around to Jakob, who told him briefly about the alleged werewolf Matheo and his relationship to Barbara. Bartholomäus frowned, and Jakob thought he detected a nervous twitch in his eyes.

“And the girl just ran away on you, and you don’t know where?” Bartholomäus finally asked with a sneer.

Jakob nodded. “She won’t come back unless I help her Matheo. I know myself that’s impossible, but I have to at least show her I’ve tried a bit.” He sighed. “You and Georg are going to start torturing the boy soon, and you know there are ways to postpone the torture or at least make it bearable. Potions, certain methods. .” He paused, waiting to hear what his brother had to say.

Bartholomäus scowled. “You really expect me to help you, with everything there is between us?”

“You won’t be helping me, you’ll be helping Barbara. She’s your niece, after all.” Jakob stopped to think for a moment, then continued. “Besides, I can hardly believe that Katharina would want to see a member of the family refuse to attend your grandly announced wedding out of defiance or grief. What do you think?” He looked at his brother innocently. “Shall I tell your fiancée you refuse to help Barbara?”

“You bastard,” Bartholomäus hissed. Then he took a deep breath and answered, “Very well, then, I’ll see what I can do. For the sake of Katharina and her family.”

He turned away and hobbled down the muddy path, dragging one foot behind the other like a reluctant animal. But then he turned around again to his brother with an angry look.

“And you will stop meddling in other people’s business. What I’m doing here in the forest is my concern. Understand? Otherwise, I’m going to hurt this Matheo so that he whimpers and howls like a real werewolf.”

“I hope your relationship with the prince-bishop is as good as you told me,” Simon said as he strolled along the east side of the Bamberg Cathedral with Samuel. On their right was a large market square surrounded by a number of half-finished buildings that would eventually be part of the prince-bishop’s palace. Workers hauled sacks of mortar and lifted large blocks of stone with pulleys onto the shaky scaffolding. Sweating profusely, horses pulled a cart of plaster up the steep hill leading to the cathedral for the ornamental plasterwork.

It had been Simon’s idea to pay a visit with Samuel to the prince-bishop. Perhaps the only way to postpone the trial would be for the prince to intervene. Simon didn’t believe there was much hope, but they had to seize every possible opportunity to save Matheo-and Barbara. Samuel was skeptical at first, too, but finally his friend had persuaded him. It was already late afternoon, a milky autumn sun hung low over the city walls, and the forests and swamps in the distance were shrouded in fog.

“Well, ever since I started caring for the bishop’s concubine, and above all for his persistent digestive problems, I’ve actually become something like a friend to him,” Samuel replied after they’d gotten past the noisy building site. He sighed deeply. “Alas, the word friend doesn’t mean very much to Prince-Bishop Rieneck. His best friends are still the animals in his menagerie. To be honest, he’s not much of a ruler, and the suffragan bishop long ago seized control over spiritual matters.”

Simon looked downcast. “Then I see a gloomy future in store for Bamberg. This Sebastian Harsee seems to me to be a real fanatic.”

His friend nodded. “Harsee’s father was one of the driving forces in the witch trials-and even back then, Harsee himself was heavily involved, as well. In Harsee’s eyes, Bamberg is a den of iniquity that needs to be cleaned up. He’d like to make it into a sort of City of God, full of well-behaved, timid believers who go to church and praise the Lord all day long. But don’t underestimate him. He’s very intelligent and, above all, very hungry for power.”

Now they had gone around to the back of the cathedral. Behind it was a park in a little hollow surrounded by a high wall. Just as at Geyerswörth Castle, there were neatly trimmed bushes and hedges and an artificial waterfall pouring into a basin, and from that into little brooks and canals. Here and there were individual cages and aviaries of different sizes, from which could be heard chirping, warbling, screeching, snarling, and an occasional growling.

“The prince-bishop’s menagerie,” Samuel said to his astonished friend as he pointed to the cages. “Here’s where the bishop spends most of his time. If you have a request, this is a good place to ask. He’s usually in a happy mood here.”

As they walked along a small gravel path winding its way down to the little valley, Simon was amazed to see the many creatures in the cages and aviaries. There were gaily colored birds of paradise with long, bushy tail feathers; a brown bear running around in circles; strutting peacocks; tame dwarf deer; and strangely wrinkled lizards, with round shells, that scurried away. An enclosure with a dead tree in the middle seemed to be empty, but in the next cage, fuzzy little animals were screeching, shaking the bars of their cage, and glaring at the curious-looking two-legged creatures. They looked like little people, and their faces reminded Simon of skulls painted with chalk.

“For heaven’s sake, what is that?” he asked with a mixture of astonishment and horror. “I’ve never seen creatures like that.”

“Oh, those are called squirrel monkeys,” Samuel explained as they continued down the path. “They come from the New World and are presents from Elector Ferdinand Maria of Bavaria. The bishop also has a few capuchin monkeys and some great apes that are sometimes brought to state functions to entertain the nobility with their climbing and dancing. At present Rieneck is trying to acquire something called a rhinoceros-a monstrous animal. The king of Portugal once had one, but it unfortunately drowned in a storm at sea. And there’s also here a-” Samuel stopped short, as another cage, full of pheasants appeared behind a bush trimmed into the shape of a sphere. In front of the cage, wearing a purple cape, stood a powerful-looking figure throwing feed to the birds.

“Ah, that’s His Excellency,” the doctor continued, turning to Simon with a determined look. “It’s now or never. Let’s hope the bishop has had a good day.”

Two armed guards suddenly appeared from behind the bushes, and when they caught sight of the strangers they reached suspiciously for their halberds. But now the bishop had also seen Samuel and Simon. He gave them a friendly smile and waved for the guards to leave.