The Secret Healer (18 page)

Matthias Trauenstein adopted the saddest facial expression he could conjure up. Then he began to tell the story of how a young woman named Madlen tore his unborn child from his wife’s womb and afterward stabbed his helpless wife with a knife until she finally bled to death. He embellished the story with a sordid tale of devil’s herbs and witch’s spells.

“Now you understand why I must catch this woman,” he concluded.

“Yes, I understand. But how do you know that it’s the same woman who healed so many residents of Worms of the deadly cough?” Johannes raised his hands. “Though that she was in league with the devil is not in question.”

“The candle,” Matthias explained. “My wife told me shortly before she died. This is how the wench was able to summon the devil.”

“I understand.” Johannes was starting to have his doubts about whether events had taken place exactly as Matthias Trauenstein described them. Would a woman who had just had her baby ripped out of her womb and been repeatedly stabbed with a knife really be well enough to report something as incidental as the swaying of a candle? On the other hand, Johannes had to investigate every clue.

“Well, then. Describe the woman to me. If she’s here in Worms, I’ll make sure to find and interrogate her.”

“She’s here.” Matthias balled up his hand into a fist. “She must be here. She was seen, and she’s the same woman, of that I’m sure.”

Johannes waited until his visitor got a grip on himself.

“At first, the woman seems inconspicuous, but once you’ve seen her, you’ll never forget her.” Johannes almost expected that Trauenstein would describe a wench with red glowing eyes, a crooked nose, and thin, bony fingers.

“She’s slight, almost like a boy. Her hair is dark brown and long, very long.” He pointed to his own waist. “Her eyes are bluer than I’ve ever seen in any human before.”

Trauenstein’s description started making Johannes nervous.

“Her most striking feature, however, is a mole right above her upper lip.” He tapped right above his own mouth a few times. “Tell me, have you ever seen this woman in Worms?”

Chapter Twenty-Three

When she tried to smile, Madlen found that it was easier than she’d imagined. Or at least not as hard as she’d thought. She had barely slept a wink last night. She’d been thinking about Johannes so much and what he must think of her. Would she ever see him again? She had asked her aunt yesterday evening, shortly after they came back from the outhouse. “I hope not, if you want to live” was her harsh response. Madlen had waived any further questions, curled up under her covers, and turned to her side. When she heard Agathe breathing evenly, she lay on her back and stared off into the darkness.

After barely sleeping, she dozed off briefly in the morning, plagued by violent nightmares; she felt powerless and weak. She had a blinding headache, and she felt nauseated the whole night. She plodded heavily downstairs behind Agathe to the tavern’s dining area. It was empty except for them. The landlady quickly brought them two bowls of porridge then left again. They were alone, sitting opposite each other at a long table.

“You look awful,” Agathe said when she got a glimpse of the poor girl.

“I feel as awful as I look, too,” Madlen replied sullenly.

Agathe reached across the table and put her hand on Madlen’s. “It will get better, believe me. I can very well understand your despair, but you have to make an effort to look ahead.” Agathe glanced right then left to make sure no one overheard them. But neither Fronicka nor anyone else was around. The women were by themselves. “Think about your child,” Agathe urged.

As tears welled up in Madlen’s eyes, she breathed deeply to keep the tears from running down her cheeks. “That’s what I’m doing.” She hesitated before continuing. “But I wonder whether it wouldn’t have been better to stay and surrender to my fate.” She gulped hard. “I can’t keep running. Someday, they will find me, arrest me, and convict me—whether it’s for what happened in Heidelberg or for curing people in Worms—and then my child will be all alone in this world, without a mother.” She couldn’t hold back her tears any longer. “I know how it is to grow up without a mother.” She lowered her head, her voice a low whisper now. “If they hang me now, then my child dies with me, escaping the agony of loneliness.”

Agathe put down her spoon and went around the table to sit on the bench next to Madlen. She hugged her niece tenderly and patted her head protectively. “Come on, cry it out now. It’s going to be all right.”

Madlen released a flood of tears. Everything felt so wrong and unjust. She was angry and scared, at her wit’s end. She didn’t know whether to scream or curl up and hide away forever in a dark cave. She held onto her aunt and sobbed bitterly.

Madlen didn’t know how long she’d been sitting there before she let go of Agathe’s embrace. Agathe stroked her cheeks tenderly, wiping away her tears. “Better?”

Madlen nodded silently, although she didn’t really feel any better at all.

“Go to the room and wash your face. Then when you come back down, we’ll go to the market together to see what Emmerich has to offer. We can see whether the ladies here value a properly made dress.”

Madlen nodded. “Thank you.” She arose from the bench shakily and adjusted her skirt before walking over to the staircase that led to the top floor.

Agathe gazed at her niece with concern. Madlen had to pull herself together, or she wouldn’t remain anonymous for long. Her aunt fervently hoped that she’d have the necessary courage to keep on fighting.

About an hour later, the women strolled through Emmerich; it was a splendid and diverse city, something that Agathe hadn’t expected. The marketplace stalls were jammed together; there seemed to be an abundance of weavers and brewers. Ladies strolled around, showing off their expensive outfits; well-dressed men made their business deals. The hustle and bustle reminded Agathe of the buzzing and whirring of beehives in old Haubold, near the harbor of the same name. Agathe had always kept her distance to prevent herself from being stung by the bees. Her memory of Haubold and Worms made her smile. But she quickly shoved those thoughts aside in case loss and sadness took hold. She looked around again. They didn’t know much about this city near the border of the Netherlands, and the little she knew was from Ruppert, a merchant. From his descriptions, she’d imagined Emmerich to be much smaller and less colorful.

Now she and Madlen strolled around the market, continuing to inspect one stall after another. But her niece was hardly aware of anything. Agathe stopped suddenly. Madlen turned to her aunt. “What’s the matter?”

“Sweetheart, that’s enough.” Agathe looked at her sternly. “You have not spent one second thinking about anything other than your worries. You must stop now,” she hissed.

“But I . . .” Madlen couldn’t spit out another word.

“No. Enough is enough. If you’ve given up,” Agathe whispered as quietly as possible, “then we should just go back so you can turn yourself in.”

“Are you angry at me?”

“Yes, I am. You’re not the only one who left everything behind. I did, too. I don’t want everything we’ve done so far to be in vain.” She pulled her niece away from the stalls and all the people running around. “I’m going to tell you this once: I don’t know whether it’s safe here or not. But we had to go somewhere, and this is a good location for business. I willingly left everything behind to help you. But if you want only pity, then I’m the wrong person for this job, and you should return to Worms. I will stand faithfully by your side until your trial is done and you are executed. I promise. But you must decide here and now. Will you at least try to live, or do you want to give up? This indecisive back and forth, this yes and no, ends right now.”

Madlen was terrified as she looked into Agathe’s fiercely determined eyes. Her heart beat wildly. Wasn’t she right about this? She’d left everything behind to help her. She’d given up everything when she left her old life behind. And for what? For a desperate young woman sunk into the depths of self-pity.

“I’m so sorry,” she finally said softly.

“What do you say? I expect an answer from you with a loud, determined voice.”

“I’m sorry.” Madlen held up her head to give her voice more power. “I’ve only been thinking of how unfairly I’ve been treated. But that’s over now.” She lifted her chin proudly. “Please, help me. I want to live, here, with you and my child. Can I rely on you?”

The corner of Agathe’s mouth twitched. “Yes, you can.” She quickly leaned forward and gave her niece a kiss on the forehead. “I’m very proud of you, my little girl.”

Madlen didn’t allow any more gloomy thoughts to enter her mind. As soon as Johannes came into her mind, she just pushed him aside and focused on the tasks at hand. “There are so many cloth merchants here.”

“Cloth merchants, yes, but not very many dresses for sale,” Agathe noticed. “I’ll find out where Ruppert lives. He always buys dresses from me.”

Madlen remembered. “We only have two dresses ready, and one of them was made for Elsbeth. That’s not many. Shouldn’t we select some fabric right away so we can start making more?”

Agathe shrugged. “I don’t want to assume the worst. First, we should try to sell the dresses we already have. If we can’t find a buyer, then we can save money to pay for some fabric.”

“Why do you think that nobody here will buy our dresses?”

Agathe made an expansive hand movement. “Look at the ladies. The dresses that we currently produce are far too simple for their fancy tastes.”

“Can we alter the dresses we have now?”

“Yes, we can do that. Before we sew new ones, we should buy some pearls and make the dresses very ornate. We should come up with a completely original but lovely design. The ladies here have their own seamstresses. If the dresses we offer aren’t any different, they’ll have no reason to buy from us.”

“And then?” Madlen looked at her helplessly. “How will we survive if we can’t sell our dresses?”

“We’ll just have to see. Let’s try it first.”

“All right.” Madlen didn’t want to dwell on this uncertainty. Previously, she had no doubt that the dresses they produced would be highly prized everywhere. She quickly tried to distract herself from these thoughts. “This Ruppert fellow you mentioned, have you known him for a long time?”

Agathe thought it over. “It’s been about six years. He is always traveling on business from his home base in Emmerich to Bruges, and then from Trier and Worms to Strasbourg, until he makes his return journey. I don’t believe he’s home very much.”

“So he’s probably not here in Emmerich right now?”

“Who knows? We’ll ask and hope for the best. And if he’s not here, we can try to sell off our dresses anyway.” She laid her arm on Madlen’s shoulder. “Believe me, little girl, it will all work out.”

All of a sudden, something rolled around in Madlen’s abdomen. She put a hand on her belly, a startled look on her face.

“What?” Agathe looked worriedly at Madlen’s face.

“A movement,” she said. She waited for a minute, but there was nothing further. Her pregnancy was at the end of the third month, so it wasn’t uncommon to feel movement at this point. However, the stress of the last few days could be dangerous to the health of the unborn child.

Agathe looked at her niece, still worried. “And? Is it better now?”

Madlen nodded. “It just lasted for a moment.” She made an effort to smile.

“Should we go back to the tavern so that you can lie down for a moment?”

“That won’t be necessary.” Madlen looked around until she noticed a small boulder just beyond the marketplace stalls. “Let’s go sit over there for a bit of rest. Then we can get going again.”

She was bent over slightly when she sat down on the boulder, relieved to rest her legs for a bit. Agathe stood next to her, stroking her back gently as Madlen struggled to calm her breathing. She knew that Madlen was making a fierce effort to be tough thanks to her strong words from earlier.

“How’s that now?”

“It’s getting better. Thank you.” Madlen tried to smile. “You know, that’s completely normal. The earlier stages of the pregnancy can be rough. In two or three more weeks, things will be much easier.”

“It almost seems as though you’ve already had three children,” Agathe joked.

“I’ve been around so many women during this special time that it does feel almost as though I’ve experienced it myself.”

“It must be a wonderful feeling.” Agathe sighed.

“What do you mean? To be pregnant?”

“Yes, and to help pregnant women. So many would be forever thankful to you.”

Madlen smiled. “Some, of course.” Her facial expression changed. “And if it weren’t for those other negative experiences, I couldn’t think of a more fulfilling way to live . . .” She shrugged. “Oh well, in the future, these pregnant women can deal with the real midwives—thanking and cursing them at the same time. I’ll have nothing more to do with it.”

“Do you regret it?”

Madlen stroked her growing little belly pensively as she thought about her reply. “I don’t regret it, but I miss it. Everything would be different if I were a man. My greatest wish would have been to be a doctor, a wise one. Or to at least have become a real midwife, yes. But of course, that’s no longer possible. I have no desire to be hunted down like an animal again.”

Agathe stroked her niece’s back tenderly. “Who knows where the road will lead us. If I’ve learned anything in my old age, it is that everything is possible.”

“Right now, I hope that God’s will doesn’t lead me too far from here. I don’t want to be forced to move again.” She let her eyes scan the marketplace. “I like Emmerich, though I had never heard of it until a few days ago. The people seem different here. They seem so . . .” She looked for the right words. “Carefree,” she finally said.

“It’s nice to hear you say that. I thought the same thing. I believe it’s because we’re so close to the Netherlands.”

“Why is that? Are the Netherlanders like this?”

“I haven’t met so many of them yet,” Agathe said. “I think two in my whole life.” She held up two fingers. “But they both were . . .” She paused with a telling smile. “Yes, they were both carefree.”

“Agathe, I would love to hear the stories you have to tell about them.”

“Yes!” Her aunt laughed gleefully. “I can imagine you would. But my lips are sealed.”

Madlen laughed with her and stood. “Now, let’s get going again. Thank you for letting me rest.”

“Anytime. We’re in no hurry.”

They went from stand to stand. Agathe stopped at a weaver’s stand. “Good man,” she said to the merchant.

“What can I do for you fine ladies today?” He flashed a toothless, yet charming smile.

Agathe held up her hand. “Thank you, but we don’t need anything right now. That doesn’t mean, however, that we won’t be needing something in the future.”

“I knew immediately that you had a sense for the finest woolens and woven goods.”

“Right now, we’re looking for a dress merchant. Is there one here at the market?”

“You look like a clever women who knows how to help herself. Why would you want to buy a finished dress when you are so well served with fine fabric and yarns?”

Agathe cocked her head to the side. “You mean no one sells dresses here?”

“No one at this market, as far as I know.”

“All the better. Tell me, what does a person have to do to be able to sell goods from his own stall?”

“What do you have to sell?”

“Dresses,” she answered succinctly.

“Ah, now I understand. Simply have your husbands pay the fee to the head of the marketplace.”

“Where does one find this head of the marketplace?”

The weaver looked around. “He’s in and out throughout the day, checking to make sure everything’s just so.” He craned his neck. “I can’t see him anywhere right now. Look for a man in an oversized coat.”

“A coat? In this warm weather?”

The weaver just shrugged. “He probably thinks that it makes him look more important. Along with his hat.” He used both hands to pantomime a wide brim.

“We’ll keep an eye out. Thanks, and we hope you have a successful business day.”

“If you need woolens, don’t go to those other cutthroats, just come to me. You won’t regret it.”