John Langan - The Fisherman

It’s possible for the men to judge how far they’ve walked from the camp by the state of their surroundings, the stage of the clearing. By Jacob’s estimate, they’re about halfway on their journey when Italo says, “So.”

There’s no mistaking whom he’s addressing. Rainer says, “So.”

“When the dead woman said her master was the Fisherman, you didn’t ask her any more about him.”

Rainer doesn’t answer.

“Does this mean,” Italo says, “you know him?”

“No,” Rainer says.

“But you know of him,” Italo says.

“Yes,” Rainer says. “Not much, but yes.”

Italo does not ask the obvious question. Rainer goes on, “You have heard of Hamburg, yes? In the north of Germany. It is a port city, to which all manner of people come. It has been for a thousand years. In the later years of the sixteenth century, a man named Heinrich Khunrath lives there. He is a scholar—”

“He is the Fisherman, this professor?” Italo says.

“No,” Rainer says. “Khunrath is interested in alchemy, in magic. He wants to find out whether a man can practice magic and be a good Christian. He is looking for those places where magic and faith meet. In the process of his research, he assembles a remarkable library. It is full of rare books, many of them from distant lands — one of the advantages to residing in an active seaport. I do not think the titles of these books would mean much to you, but there is one, The Secret Words of Osiris, that is the prize of the collection. It is very old.

“One day, a man presents himself at Khunrath’s door. He is young-looking except for his eyes, which are old, older than any Khunrath has met. This young man with the old eyes says he has come to study with Khunrath. Khunrath says he is not interested in taking on any more students. He is too busy as it is. The young man insists. He has heard of Khunrath’s investigation of magic, and he has a great deal to share with him. Eventually, Khunrath agrees to let the young man study with him. Maybe he showed Khunrath a magic the scholar had not seen before. Or maybe Khunrath worried the young man might tell his neighbors the subject of his study. Hamburg prides herself on her sophistication, but there are limits to her tolerance. Always, there are boundaries, borders beyond which a man of learning is not to pass. If he does, the consequences can be…severe.”

“Yes, yes,” Italo says. “This boy with the funny eyes, he is the Fisherman. Does he have a name?”

“No,” Rainer says. “Khunrath does not write it down. In his letters, he refers to him as his young friend. Once, Khunrath calls him his young Hungarian.”

“Hungarian?” Italo says.

Rainer nods. “He was from Buda, which was then under the control of the Turks. He lived there with his wife and children. At the end of the fifteen-hundreds, the Hungarians fought a war with the Turks to drive them out of the country. This young man and his family were caught up in it. His wife was a Turk, you see, the daughter of a merchant who had followed the Turkish army to Buda. The young man thought that, if they did not draw any notice to themselves, he and his family would be left in peace. He was wrong. Khunrath did not know the exact circumstances, only that the man’s wife and children were put to the sword by Hungarian soldiers. Those soldiers stabbed the young man, too, but he survived. After he buried his family, he fled west, to Vienna. From Vienna, he went north, first to Prague, then to the Elbe, which he followed through Dresden, through Magdeburg, through Wittenberg, to Hamburg. At every city on his route, and some towns in between, he sought the men like Khunrath.”

“Magicians,” Italo says.

“Scholars,” Rainer says, “with similar interests.”

“Why is he called the Fisherman?” Jacob says.

“Yes, why?” Angelo and Andrea chime in.

Rainer scowls. He doesn’t like having his story rushed. He says, “Because the man wants to catch one of the Great Powers.”

“What Great Power?” Italo says. “Do you mean a devil?”

“No,” Rainer says. “This is something else. The old Egyptians spoke about it as a great serpent with a head of flint, a thing of darkness and chaos.” Seeing the looks the other men give him, Rainer sighs and says, “It is what Scripture calls Leviathan.”

“I thought that was a devil,” Andrea says.

“It is not a devil,” Rainer says. “You remember how God makes the earth? There is water over everything, and God brings forth the land from it, yes? Leviathan is swimming in that water.”

“What is it?” Andrea says. “Is it another god?” Angelo crosses himself.

“It’s closer to a god than it is to a devil,” Rainer says. “It’s like that first ocean, but it is not the ocean.”

“This is blasphemy,” Angelo says.

“A dead woman walking around,” Rainer says, “that is blasphemy. This is knowledge, very ancient knowledge.”

“Like what was in the book the scholar had,” Italo says. “What did you say the name was? The Secret Words —”

“Of Osiris,” Rainer says. “Yes, that book talks about Leviathan; although it calls him a different name.”

“That is why the young man came to the scholar,” Andrea says.

“Khunrath,” Rainer says. “Yes, that is so. He took advantage of Khunrath’s hospitality for almost a year, and when he left, he took The Secret Words of Osiris with him.”

“He stole it,” Italo says.

“He won it,” Rainer says. “How is unclear. The night before he left Hamburg, the sky over the city was full of strange lights, and there was a noise like many men shouting.”

“So the young man fishes for Leviathan,” Andrea says, “and this book tells him how. Why? What does he expect if he catches it?” Almost at the same time, Italo says, “Where does he go to find such a beast? What ocean is deep enough?”

“Power,” Rainer says, nodding to Andrea. “If he could set his hook in Leviathan’s jaw, he could bend its strength to his purpose. He could have his wife and children back. Who knows what else he wants? What would any of us ask for?” Before anyone can answer, Rainer says to Italo, “The ocean that is Leviathan’s home lies underneath , below everything.”

“Under the ground?” Andrea says.

“In hell,” Angelo says.

“It is as it is underground,” Rainer says, “as if the world is as flat as men once believed it to be and it is floating on the dark ocean. In places, the earth is thinner, the distance to the ocean not so great.”

“This is one of those places?” Italo says, the tone of his voice indicating his opinion of such a claim.

“If the Fisherman is here,” Rainer says, “it must be.”

“How are we supposed to defeat such a man?” Angelo says.

“Ask the dead woman,” Italo says.

“The Fisherman is not without his strengths,” Rainer says, “but he is not a full Schwarzkunstler .”

“A what?” Italo says.

“Uno strégone,” Rainer says.

“Ah,” Italo says.

“We should have a priest with us,” Angelo says.

“There is no time,” Rainer says. “Your devotion will have to do for us.”

Sooner after this than Jacob would have expected, the men reach the outskirts of the Station. Here, the wide-scale clearing has yet to begin. Trees run right up to the road. The handful of houses that comprise the village proper are still standing, empty but undisturbed. To look at them, you’d never know that, within a year, all of this will be gone, scraped away. Night has pitched its tent over them. Shadow lies heavy on the houses, their yards, fills up the spaces between the trees. As they pass out of the Station and off onto the driveway up to the Dort house, Jacob sees movement out of the corner of his eye. In amongst the trees to his right, what he thinks might be a deer, except that it’s too fast, and it doesn’t bound away, it kind of flicks away, with a fluidity unlike that of any forest creature Jacob knows. Thinking it’s probably nothing, a bird disturbed by their passing and made strange by his anxiety over the coming confrontation, he shakes his head and dismisses it.