Mika Waltari - The Wanderer

“No, no, dear Father Julianus,” said Andy with a wave of his hand. “Why should we part now that we have found one another again? If you’ll escort us out we can consider what return to make you afterward, at our leisure.”

The wine had inspired me with a most excellent idea, and I put in quickly, “Be reasonable, good Father Julianus, and you shall not regret it. It’s possible that you may return to Christendom to devote yourself to very different tasks. Only trust me. But good counsel is now precious, and we won’t haggle if you can really get us out of this carefully guarded city.”

After much argument we agreed, while cursing his rapacity, to pay him a hundred ducats for safe conduct, twenty-five to be handed over at once.

“I don’t mean to go on foot,” he said. “You must get good horses for all of us and dress as richly as you can.”

He refused to explain why this was necessary, and as we were forced to trust him we had no choice but to send the pot boy with a message to Aaron. Thanks to this honest Jew, four fairly good horses, ready saddled, stood at the door by noon, and Andy and I were able to don cuirasses inlaid with silver, though somewhat bloodstained. For the young woman Aaron provided a gown of silk and velvet and a veil of the kind women use to conceal their faces while traveling.

But with these things came a reckoning that made me gasp for breath. The charge for each item was shown separately, and the total came to no less than nineteen hundred and ninety-eight ducats. But, wrote Aaron, if we had not this sum with us he was willing to take the Grand Vizier’s ring as security, and had given the bearer two ducats in coin, thus bringing the loan to two thousand ducats, or the value of the ring.

Aaron’s shrewdness in taking advantage of our desperate situation cut me to the quick, and when I saw Andy glancing sideways at the ring on his sleeping wife’s finger I declared that though he might be ready to steal her wedding ring I could never find it in my heart to commit so mean an action. I therefore took the two ducats from the messenger and made out a bill for two thousand ducats in the Grand Vizier’s name, to be honored by the Sultan’s treasurer. I perceived certainly that this paper might cause us some trouble if it were ever presented, but I fancied that Aaron would never have the opportunity to arrange this if only we could get away quickly.

But here I was entirely mistaken, being ignorant of the amazingly swift business communications existing among Jews. Incredible as it may seem, the bill was presented at the Sultan’s treasury in Buda long before we reached that town ourselves. The Grand Vizier accepted it, although it had passed through so many hands and been increased by so many costs and charges that by the time he saw it the sum amounted to two thousand, three hundred and forty-two ducats. All too late I perceived that to Jews such a document was almost safer than coin during wartime and when great distances were involved; Aaron therefore gained rather than lost by the transaction.

The rustle of the silken gown roused the young lady; she rubbed the sleep from her long-lashed eyes and sat up to wish her husband a tender good morning. Andy sharply bade us turn our backs, and urged his wife to put on the new dress with all haste. Nevertheless our journey was further delayed by her refusal to wear the gown until it had been altered to cling more closely to her figure. There ensued a desperate running to and fro with scissors, needles, and thread, and many tears were shed before we were able to mount our horses and leave that pleasant house, having richly rewarded its proprietress for all the trouble and vexation we had caused her.

To my surprise Father Julianus made straight for the Salt Gate, which stood wide open. Crowds of people on foot or in ox carts were streaming through it out of the city. Noting our silver cuirasses the guard thrust the mob aside to make way for us and greeted Father Julianus with jovial quips, to which he replied with benedictions seasoned with salty oaths, as befitted an accomplished army chaplain. The guard commander thrust his lance suspiciously into a wagon load of hay on its way into the town, but paid no heed to those who were leaving it, and it was more from curiosity than professional zeal that he asked Father Julianus whither he was bound. The old fox replied that he was escorting the noble lady von Wolfenland zu Fichtenbaum back to her estates, and with that we rode through the archway and left the city of Vienna behind us.

My heart, which hitherto had been in my mouth, returned to its proper place and I felt so profound a relief that I gladly paid Father Julianus his second twenty-five ducats, asking how in the name of God he had known that we could leave the city so easily. He answered, “Even yesterday crowds of vagrants were going and no one stopped them, since they were only a burden to the citizens. For safety’s sake I asked you to wear good clothes, so that if necessary you could behave like noblemen and whip off any inquisitive people. Surely you don’t imagine that I would have consented to come with you if I had believed there was any danger?”

We rode forward along the squelching roads past the ruins of Moslem camps that formed a great arc about the city and extended to the distant hills. We were soon overtaken by a troop of horsemen bound in pursuit of the Turks. They hailed us with friendly shouts and warned us against Turkish patrols that might yet be lingering in the region. Toward evening the sky appeared through rifts in the clouds. It grew colder, and we knew that snow might soon be expected.

It fell that night, but Andy and I welcomed it as a reminder of our distant homeland, and it was in any case to be preferred to the mire of autumn. But the snow soon melted, leaving the roads worse than before. We were never in doubt as to our course, for pillars of smoke by day and the glow of fires, which at night lit up the horizon, showed us the route of the retreating Turkish army. An even surer indication were the headless, plundered corpses that we found impaled on stakes in the burned-out villages. All houses and barns within the radius of a day’s march from the route were burned and the inhabitants slain, and not even the soulless beasts had been spared.

The ghastly scenes filled me with revulsion; I longed to leave all such wanton devastation behind me and seek the blessings of peace. In a day or two the traces of the retreating army were fresher. Smoke still rose from the heaps of ashes as we passed; blood still flowed from the wounds of the slain. At last we came up with a few bowmen who were busily engaged in throwing corpses into a well to poison the water. We approached them and by way of credentials showed them the Grand Vizier’s ring on Mistress Eva’s finger.

They wanted to kill Father Julianus at once because of his cassock, and had already dragged him from his horse when Andy exerted his great strength and held them off. They withdrew a few paces and raised their bows; I can think of no bleaker sound than the twang of a bowstring on a chilly morning.

But I summoned up my Turkish vocabulary and threatened the spahis with the Grand Vizier’s fury if they carried out their threats, and at the same time offered them princely rewards if they would bring us to him immediately. Yet I fancy it was the sight of Mistress Eva that made them relent. No doubt they expected to get a good price for her, and perhaps hoped to sell Andy and me as well. The janissaries would certainly buy Father Julianus, for they loved to stimulate their religious fervor by roasting Christian priests alive over their campfires. These men were therefore content to deprive us of our horses, and did not even trouble to throw a noose round our necks, but merely prodded us forward with their lance butts.