Dancing in the Palm of His Hand (7 page)

The woman recoiled. “I'm taking nothing worn by a witch.” She looked down at Eva. “If you want to see your daughter bad enough, you'll find two
gulden
. I was told you owned your own shop, a bakery right on
Domstrasse
.”

Eva rubbed the rosary through the thin wool of her gown. Herr Stolz. He must have seen everything. He had to know where she and Katharina had been taken. Surely he would help them. “Go to my shop and ask for Herr Stolz,” she said. “He's one of my journeymen. Tell him I sent you. Tell him the money is for Katharina. He'll give you two
gulden
.” Mother of God, please let Herr Stolz believe this woman.

“How do I know he'll give me the
gulden
?”

“I know he will. He...he cares for me.”

The woman winked. “A widow with a young journeyman, eh?”

Eva felt her face grow hot.

“She is a pretty little thing,” the woman muttered to herself,
her face softening. “I always feel sorry for the children. And no matter what the high and mighty commissioners say, I can't see much harm in having a mother and daughter together. Seems like you've already done as much conspiring as you're going to do.” She moved the wooden pail closer to Eva. “And it would mean one less cell to clean.”

“Bless you.”

The woman laughed. “You may be blessing me now, but before this is over, you – and all the others – will be cursing me.” She made the sign of the cross, then put a gnarled hand to her throat. “I have this bit of wax the Jesuits gave me. With herbs they blessed. It protects me so I don't have to be scared of you – or the others.”

“There are others?”

“A big lot of you this time. Six. And I have to cook for all of you, and clean up. Climbing up and down those stairs all day.” She wrinkled her nose. “And I'm seeing – and smelling – that you're needing new straw already.”

“Six?”

“
Ja
, six.”

“Who are the others? Who has accused us?”

The woman frowned. “As if you don't know already.”

“
Nein
, I don't.”

The woman's eyes narrowed. “You mean with all your powers, you don't know who else is in here with you or who accused you?”

“I have no powers.”

“Humph! No powers? Judge Steinbach and Chancellor Brandt will see about that.” She raised one finger. “There's a maidservant. Her baby, a bastard, was born dead. Or so she claims.” She lifted a second crooked finger. “Then there's the midwife who delivered the baby.” Leaning forward, she cupped a hand to her mouth. “I'd be willing to bet those two
gulden
the midwife offered the child to the Devil while it yet breathed, before it could be
baptized.” She backed away, as if she'd just remembered what Eva was. “But then you'd be knowing all about that.”

“I know nothing. You must believe me.”

“It's true, you don't look much like a witch.” The woman poked around under her kerchief, scratching her head. “But then neither did Fraulein Stolzberger. She was a beauty, just like you. But then, it don't matter much what a jailer's wife thinks. What matters is what the commissioners believe.”

“And...and the others?”

The woman raised a third finger. “An old beggar. Now there's a wicked old hag if ever I saw one, threatening people with her ugly face, trying to scare respectable citizens into giving her more
pfennigs
. She's a witch for sure.”

The jailer's wife held up a fourth finger, her dull grey eyes suddenly bright, like polished silver coins. “And this time there's a young man, a high born. And handsome, too. They say he's a defender of witches.”

Eva saw the sheen of excitement on the woman's face, as if she relished possessing so much information. It was probably the only valuable thing she owned, thought Eva, and yet she gave it away freely, or so it seemed. How much did she carry outside these stone walls? And to whom?

“The commissioners will have to work hard to get the truth out of all of you.”

“I'll tell them the truth at once. Katharina and I are innocent.”

The woman cackled, revealing a scattering of broken and missing teeth in her lower jaw. “That's what they all say.”

The jailer's wife returned a short while later, Katharina's small hand enclosed in hers. Still in her muslin sleeping gown, now soiled and torn, the girl stood in the doorway, her eyes straight ahead, as if she did not see her mother.

Eva called out. “
Liebchen
.”

Stiffly, Katharina limped toward Eva and sat down beside her.

“If I don't get those
gulden
,” the woman said, jerking her thumb over her shoulder, “back she goes.” She turned, and the door slammed shut behind her.

Eva lifted Katharina's arms and kissed the purple bruises on her wrists. “Are you all right?”

Katharina trembled, but did not answer.

Eva, her arms still shackled, cradled her daughter as best she could. “Tell me,
Liebchen
, are you all right?” Her fingers worked to smooth the girl's mussed braid.

Katharina lifted her head from her mother's chest. “I saw him last night, Mama. He watched me with his red eyes.”

“Who?”

“Him. The Devil.”

“You must not say such things!” Eva felt the blood drain from her face. “You saw a rat. Only a rat.”

“
Nein
, it was him. But it's all right. Angels came, angels in golden gowns. There were orange flames at their feet, but their gowns did not burn up. I was scared at first. I screamed. I screamed at them, and at him. But the angels came close and stood between me and him, so that I couldn't see his red eyes anymore. They touched my face with their soft fingers. When they left, he was gone.”

“
Nein
, Katharina. This cannot be so.” Eva held Katharina's head tight to her chest.

“You don't believe me?”

“Did you say anything of this to the old woman who brought you here?”

“
Nein
.”

“Katharina, you must not speak of these things, to anyone!”

The key scraped in the lock. The door opened, and a tall priest in a broad-brimmed hat stepped into the cell. The jailer's wife followed.
Folding her hands at her waist, she dipped her head toward the priest. “Father Herzeim has come.”

Eva leaned forward. Thanks be to God! A priest. He would see that a terrible mistake had been made. He would order that she and Katharina be released.

After the jailer's wife had closed the door behind her, Father Herzeim picked up a small stool and set it beside Eva and Katharina. He sat down, smoothed his black cassock over his knees, and laid his breviary in his lap.

Embarrassed at the foul odours rising from the straw, Eva wished that he'd not come so near. She studied his face for a look of disgust, but he gave no sign that he'd noticed the rank smell. He took off his hat and set it aside. There were two broad streaks of silver through his dark hair.

Katharina pointed at the streaks. “Look, Mama. Angel wings.”

The priest almost smiled, then folded his hands over the wooden cross on his chest. “I am here to offer you spiritual consolation. Is there anything you wish to tell me?”

“Why have we been arrested?”

“Your daughter has not been arrested. She is here because you are.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “You have been accused of witchcraft.”

“Who has accused me?”

“The women who were executed two days ago.”

“But they do not even know me.”

“You knew none of them?”

Shamed by her small lie, Eva looked away. “Frau Basser bought bread from the bakery now and again, but she did not know me well. Why would she accuse me of witchcraft? Why would any of them?”

Father Herzeim rubbed his forehead, as if to smooth out the lines. “Have you done anything, Frau Rosen, that might be construed as witchcraft? Sold tainted or mouldy bread that might
make someone ill? Said anything that might be taken as a curse?”

“
Nein
, nothing.”

The priest peered at her, his dark eyes searching. “I've been told that your husband died suddenly, and with no explanation.”

“That's true, Father, but surely no one thinks–”

“Apparently, they do.”

Her heart beat faster. It was true that she'd feared Jacob, that she'd never really loved him. But how could anyone think she'd killed him?

“I did not kill my husband.”

Father Herzeim bit the inside of his cheek. “You've been a long time without a husband. Nearly three years, I'm told. Have you been chaste?”

Eva thought of Herr Stolz and felt a flush rise from her throat to her cheeks. She could not look at the priest when she answered. “
Ja
, Father.”

“Have you gone to a sorcerer or a midwife for a love potion? Or tried to concoct one yourself? Many desperate women do.”

“I have done none of those things, Father. I...I did not wish to marry again.”

“I've heard that as well. The master bakers and the city councilmen do not approve, Frau Rosen.”

“But doesn't the Holy Church?”

“As long as you live chastely.”

Eva clasped her hands together, making the chains clank. “And never...never have I – or my daughter – had anything to do with the Devil.”

“But Mama,” said Katharina.

Eva pinched the girl's thigh, hard. Katharina let out a yelp. Father Herzeim raised a dark eyebrow.

“She's frightened by all these questions.” Eva could hear the tremor in her own voice. “There's been a terrible mistake. My daughter and I are innocent. You must order them to release us.”

“Only the Prince-Bishop can order your release.”

“Then please, Father, you must speak with the Prince-Bishop.”

The priest ran a hand through his hair, mussing the silver streaks. “I have spoken with His Grace. He will recommend that the Commission of Inquisition release you only after the hearings, after he's read the commission's report on your crimes.”

“Crimes? There are no crimes.” Eva grabbed his arm. “You said that Katharina has not been accused. Take her out of here. Take her to the Unterzell Convent. The nuns will care for her until I am released.”

Father Herzeim looked at Katharina, his eyes surprisingly kind, and sorrowful. “Would that I had the power to do that.”

“What power do you have?”

“I will help you and your daughter as best I can.”

“What good is your help if you cannot get us released?”

“I can offer consolation and strength.”

“Consolation and strength?” Eva closed her eyes. No, the silver streaks were not the wings of an angel. “You'd best bring me an image of the Holy Mother,” she said bitterly. “She is the only one who can help us now.”

“Let me confess you.”

“Confess!” she hissed. “I have nothing to confess.”

“Nothing?”

Chastised, Eva bowed her head. She'd confessed to her parish priest less than a week ago, just before Easter. What had she done since then? Turned away a beggar because she had no more bread, scolded Katharina too harshly, had impure thoughts about Herr Stolz. As she whispered her sins to the priest, they all seemed so distant now, so unimportant, so very far away.

“That is all? There is nothing else?” asked Father Herzeim.

“I have spoken angry words to a priest. Please forgive me, Father.” Eva looked up and saw Father Herzeim's small smile.

She bowed her head again when he raised his hand in the sign of absolution.

“Ego te absolvo, in nomine patris, et filii, et spiritus sancti.”

She was startled when he touched her. He put a hand under her chin and lifted her face. His fingers were soft on her skin. She could smell the clean scent of his soap.

“Frau Rosen, listen to me. You must insist on your innocence. No matter what the commissioners say, no matter what they do to you, you – and Katharina – must insist on your innocence.”

Dropping a
pfennig
into the grubby hand that clawed at his breeches, Lutz hurried away from the gaping mouth filled with brown stubs and red swollen gums. He dashed into the town hall, to the small room where the councilmen kept their black robes. His were the only ones still hanging there. Pulling them quickly over his doublet, Lutz strode to the small chapel on the ground floor. There, he knelt, made the sign of the cross, and murmured a brief prayer for guidance in the decisions he would make that morning. He climbed the stairs to the Wenceslaus Hall, cracked open the double doors, and slid into his place on the long bench, inconspicuously, he hoped.

Hampelmann cast Lutz a chastising frown. As first burgomaster of the Lower City Council, Hampelmann sat at the table in the centre of the room with Herr Bayer, the second burgomaster, who picked up a quill to record Lutz's name in the ledger.

Lutz was surprised to see Judge Steinbach sitting between Hampelmann and Bayer. What concern could have brought the first burgomaster of the Upper City Council to a meeting of the Lower City Council? Perhaps they would be debating the new war taxes imposed by Emperor Ferdinand. Lutz groaned. With Judge Steinbach presiding, that debate could go on all day.

Hampelmann passed the gavel to Judge Steinbach. It shook in his hand. “We must come to order now,” he said, looking sourly at a small gold watch. “We are already late.” Grimacing, he pushed himself up, straightened his rheumatic knees, and crossed
himself, as did the councilmen, who then muttered the Latin invocation with which they began their morning meetings.

“
Ad majorem Dei gloriam
. Amen,” wheezed the judge, crossing himself again. He passed the gavel back to Hampelmann.

Bayer pushed the ledger toward Hampelmann, who squinted at the open pages. “Councilman Rausch,” said Hampelmann, “have the gatekeepers been informed of the council's decision not to allow strangers into the city nor any citizens who are returning from cities with plague?”