The Wandering Harlot (The Marie Series) (24 page)

Coming from any other customer, Marie would have brushed off such words as nothing but idle boasting, but Jodokus’s pride showed in his face, and it was clear that he meant what he said. Somehow, his betrayal of Sir Dietmar, along with any other tasks he had performed on Rupert’s behalf, had turned the penniless monk into a prosperous citizen. Marie wondered if this traitorous monk was once again working on some other mischief for Rupert. If that were the case, she’d find out. Perhaps Rupert would make a mistake, or go too far for once, and a few well-chosen words said to the right person would be enough to destroy him.

With a renewed sense of hope, Marie allowed Jodokus to fondle her. Meanwhile, Hiltrud was waiting for her nearby and wondering about her friend’s behavior. Marie had often told her how she much despised the treacherous monk, and now she was acting as if she had found a long-lost close friend with whom she couldn’t wait to disappear behind the nearest bush. Hiltrud had to clear her throat a few times before Marie noticed her, signaling to Hiltrud to leave her alone. Annoyed, Hiltrud turned on her heels and walked away, resolving to get an explanation of Marie’s behavior later that evening.

Jodokus wrapped his arm tightly around Marie and pointed toward the city. “I have a few free hours. Let’s find a better use for them than standing around talking next to this stinking canal. My innkeeper will certainly not have any objection if I take you up to my room.”

“I don’t just go away with anyone, especially without being paid.” Marie spoke in a coquettish tone, half-seductive and half-demanding, and Jodokus fell for it at once. “You will get more from me than just the few shillings you usually earn, my dearest. Much more! If you stay with me, you’ll never have to go to bed with another man again, and you will wear the finest jewelry . . .”

“In bed?” Marie asked mockingly.

He seemed pleased by that idea. “Yes, there, too. But you’ll have to be patient because it may take a while before the golden ducats start rolling into your lap. I’m having an important meeting this evening, however, that will make me a lot of money.”

The thought flashed through Marie’s mind that Jodokus was indeed planning another act of treachery. She let him take her by the hand, leading her back to the harbor where they stopped at a little house abutting the rough-hewn stones of the city walls right next to the gate tower. The woman who received them looked askance at Marie, but she didn’t object. Jodokus had explained to Marie that his quarters were not officially an inn but belonged to a widow who rented her rooms, and sometimes her body, to paying guests.

As they climbed the narrow stairway inside the house, Jodokus turned to the widow. “Frau Grete, please bring a jug of wine and two cups to my room.”

“And a bowl of water,” Marie added quickly, since despite his new clothes, the monk stank just as much as he had before.

Nodding sullenly, the landlady disappeared into the kitchen. When Jodokus reached the top of the stairs, for a few moments he fumbled with the door, which had two locks on it. One was an ordinary door lock that Marie wouldn’t have expected to see in a modest house like this. The other was a padlock with a chain passing through a hole in the bolt that could be opened only with a complicated-looking key. Marie watched Jodokus with curiosity and shook her head.

He smiled and gently ran his hand through her hair. “You’re surprised? I can easily explain. Couriers and servants of wealthy merchants carrying large sums of money or important documents often stay at the widow Grete’s house. They want to know their things are safe behind locked doors while they’re here.”

Marie nodded and looked at him wide-eyed; Jodokus smiled patronizingly at her apparent naïveté. Inwardly, however, she was trembling with excitement, for she was now firmly convinced the man was carrying important documents.

The room was half the size of the one that she and Hiltrud were sharing at the canal-side inn, and most of the space was taken up by a comfortable-looking bed. The only other furnishings were some sturdy wall pegs for hanging clothes and luggage and a stool at the head of the bed. A large gray cape seemed to be concealing something on the stool. Marie was dying to get her hands on the cloth to see what was underneath, but Jodokus forced her down onto the bed and seized her just as the landlady walked in.

Frau Grete grimaced. “If I’d known how badly you needed it, I’d have come to you last night.”

Jodokus gruffly commanded her to put the wine and water down next to the stool and then to leave. As the landlady withdrew in a huff, Jodokus undressed so fast, he almost ripped his shirt and presented Marie with his erect rod, ready to do battle. Just as he was about to throw himself onto her, she raised her hand and pointed to the jug of wine. “Easy, my friend. Let’s have a little drink first. Then you should trust me and do what I tell you.”

“I must have you,” Jodokus groaned in despair.

“If you are overexcited, you will cheat yourself out of this pleasure.” Marie sat cross-legged on the bed as he sat staring at her pleadingly. Then she filled her glass and drank to his health. Pouring some of the wine into the water, she took a cloth from one of the coat pegs, dipped it in the wine, and began washing the monk from head to toe.

As Jodokus writhed in desire, Marie finally lay down, ready for him. He was anything but a skillful lover, fumbling around clumsily while Marie concealed her feelings behind a smile. After a short while he collapsed on top of her with a loud groan, and she fondled him and stretched as if in ecstasy.

“You are so different from before, Jo . . . , no, Herr Ewald. Now you really seem like a man of noble standing. How did you do that?” She sat up a bit and scratched his hairy back, all the while moving her hips back and forth invitingly.

A contented smile spread over his face. “With my head, my darling. The noblemen think they’re so clever and always want to get their own way. They regard people like us as tools they can use however they want, casting us off like old shoes when they’re done. But I’m smarter than they are, and I’ll make Count Konrad and Rupert Splendidus sorry that they cheated me out of my due reward. After I get what I’m entitled to, I’ll disappear with you forever. What do you think of Flanders? They say it’s very beautiful there. But perhaps we’ll leave the Reich and go to France or even England. There you could toss away these silly yellow ribbons so we can live before God and the world like a married couple.”

Marie gazed at him in feigned admiration, pretending to be amazed that he could stand up to a nobleman like Count Konrad von Keilburg, but she was unable to learn anything more about Jodokus’s connections to her former fiancé. The former monk made only a few vague references to Rupert, then deflected further questions, telling her only that he was going to meet Count Konrad’s messenger that very evening to collect a significant sum of money.

Grinning maliciously, he started to laugh. “There is something I have that is very valuable to Count Konrad and his bastard brother, and it would be very bad for them if it fell into the wrong hands.”

Spontaneously, Marie embraced him to hide her face in his shoulder and keep herself from crying out, stammering a few words of praise instead. She wanted whatever it was that Jodokus had, even if she had to drug him to get it, and she frantically wondered how she might outwit him. Her little bag full of herbs was back at the inn, but perhaps she could lure him there with promises of more pleasure in bed. At that moment, however, he seemed to have lost interest in her body. Springing out of bed, he jumped into his leggings with a bleating laugh and pulled on his shirt hastily, then triumphantly stretched his arms toward the ceiling.

“I know how to do it! The clever fellows I’m dealing with know all the tricks in the book, but I’ve figured out a way to pull the wool over their eyes. Marie, I’m going to give you a little package. You must take good care of it and not open it, do you hear? The landlady is dishonest, and I’m afraid that while I’m away negotiating with the messenger, one of Rupert’s men will come here and steal the package. It would be disastrous for us both if he got his hands on it without paying my price, but neither the counselor nor his riffraff will guess I’m entrusting my valuable documents to a whore.” Marie didn’t share Jodokus’s certainty, as she believed that the accomplices of the treacherous counselor would turn over every stone in Strasbourg and its surroundings to get their hands on the documents. But since she intended to steal whatever the insidious monk gave her, she didn’t care. Wandering harlots came and went like the wind and rarely left any traces.

Jodokus pulled a package out from under his cloak. It was wrapped in an oilskin and secured with a seal. “Can you hide this under your dress when you leave?” She opened her mouth and eyes wide to seem eager and ready to help. “Yes, of course. I’ll tie it securely to my undergarments, and no one will notice you gave me anything.”

Jodokus bent over her, rubbing his nose on her breast, and unfastening his pants. “You’re a bright girl, Marie. But now open the portals of your cathedral, as I’m overcome by my desire to pray there again.”

XII.

In her room in the inn two hours later, Marie was sitting on one of the fresh, clean beds of reeds that Hiltrud had made for them, staring incredulously at the documents she had spread out before her. Either Jodokus had been in Rupert’s service for a long time and was complicit in some of his scams, or he had stolen this bundle of papers, in which case Jodokus was even more cunning than she had suspected.

In the package, along with Otmar von Müringen’s will that had been stolen from Saint Ottilien’s monastery, were five other documents containing testamentary dispositions and transferences of property. Also included were documents in which Jodokus had recorded every one of Rupert’s acts of trickery and deception in fine, neat handwriting, noting whether they were on behalf of his father, his brother, some high men in the church, or on the counselor’s own behalf.

For the first time in her life, Marie was glad that her father had forced her to learn to read and write, just like a daughter from a Constance patrician family. Though she had since forgotten much of what she had learned, she remembered enough to decipher the gist of the notes Jodokus had written in Latin.

Jodokus must have been Rupert’s confidant or possibly even one of his teachers, for he seemed to know all of the counselor’s activities. In his writing, Marie discovered that her former fiancé had used forged documents to steal the property of Sir Dietmar’s neighbors Gottfried von Dreieichen and Walter vom Felde.

Glancing at other entries, she saw her name and her father’s. It felt strange to read a report about her own fate, and that person named Marie seemed like a stranger. Fortunately for her, and despite his accurate description, Jodokus hadn’t made the connection between Master Matthis Schärer’s daughter and Marie, the wandering harlot.

Jodokus described in detail what Rupert had done to appropriate her father’s property. Apparently, the crime had been prepared even before the victims had been selected. The carriage driver Utz had scouted for suitable prey on behalf of Rupert Splendidus, recommending that the counselor ask Schärer for his daughter’s hand in marriage. Utz knew that Linhard had been harshly rebuffed by her father for wanting to marry Marie, making it easier for him to convince Linhard to slander Marie and take part in the rape. Utz had also made the widow Euphemia his willing tool, only to kill her when she tried to blackmail Rupert. Marie shuddered at the depravity documented on the thinly shaven parchment as if it were a document from a demonic world in the distant past.

As darkness was falling, she was unable to read any more of the counselor’s despicable deeds. In any case, she had spent too much time with the documents, since she had to be gone before Jodokus returned and demanded his package back. For a moment she considered running away immediately without waiting for Hiltrud, since her friend had not yet returned to the inn. Just in time, Marie remembered that Jodokus or Rupert’s people would take out their anger on Hiltrud and probably kill her, and so she remained, even if the ground seemed to be burning under her feet.

The bells of the cathedral tower struck eight. In half an hour it would be dark, and Jodokus would meet with Rupert’s go-between. Marie was tantalized at the thought of secretly observing the meeting. For a few breathless moments she fought against the rising tide of her curiosity, threatening to sweep away all reason. Then she yielded to the idea, gathering up the documents and wrapping them up again in the oilskin. Since she didn’t want to leave the package at the inn, she put it in her shoulder bag, knotting the ends over her chest so it looked like she was carrying a child on her back, and left the house unobserved.

Before she had left him earlier, Jodokus had told her his meeting would take place near an especially large willow tree along the Ill River about a hundred paces from the harbor gate. Marie quickly spotted the tree and searched in the darkness for a person’s vague outlines, creeping closer with care to avoid being seen. But her caution was unnecessary as no one was there, so she hid behind a bush by the shore and waited. Hours seemed to pass before a man exited the harbor gate. She recognized Jodokus from his walk; he was wrapped in his overcoat and appeared very nervous, repeatedly turning around as if afraid of his own shadow. Marie feared he’d look toward where she was hiding, but just then, someone came striding energetically toward the willow tree from the other direction. He was wearing a broad cloak and a wide-brimmed hat pulled down over his face, so she couldn’t see who it was. She crouched down as he passed by and thanked God that a bank of fog was drifting by, hiding her from seeking eyes.

“Hello, Jodokus. We meet again.” The man’s threatening voice made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Suddenly, she pressed her hand over her mouth so she wouldn’t cry out in fear or anger, for she had recognized the man. It was Utz, the wagon driver.

Jodokus seemed equally uncomfortable in his presence, for he stepped back and raised his arms defensively. “Do you have the money?”

“Yes, I have it with me, but first I want to see the goods.”

Jodokus laughed nervously. “Do you think I would be so stupid as to bring the documents with me? As soon as you give me the money, we can go to the place where I’ve stored them, and I’ll give them to you in the presence of witnesses.”

“No, no, my dear renegade monk, I won’t do that. You tricked us once, and I won’t let you get away with it a second time. Do you think I don’t know where the documents are that you stole for us? As of now you are expendable!”

“What?” Jodokus shouted, seized with panic. Turning, he tried to run, but Utz grabbed him by the neck. Throttling him so he couldn’t cry out, Utz dragged the monk under the cover of the big willow tree only a few steps away from Marie, where he threw Jodokus to the ground and pressed his knee against his chest. It had become so foggy that Marie could only vaguely make out the men’s shapes, and she had to listen carefully to figure out what was happening. Gasping for breath, Jodokus flailed wildly while the wagon driver mocked him.

“You’re a fool trying to blackmail Master Rupert. Now you’ll follow the greedy shoemaker’s widow to hell!”

As he said
hell
, Marie heard the cracking of bones and then the murderer’s heavy breathing followed by something large being dragged across the ground and hitting the water. Two heartbeats later, a dark shape that must have been Jodokus drifted by in the water.

On the shore, Utz shouted one last derisive farewell to the dead monk. “There’s your reward, you ass! Now I’ll go and get what belongs to us without paying a penny.”

Terrified, Marie listened to the wagon driver chuckling to himself. “But first I’ll enjoy a pleasant hour with the ever-available Frau Grete. Then I’ll get the documents from Jodokus’s room and take them to Rupert. He should give me few more guilders than usual.” Marie then heard a metallic jangling, which she assumed came from Jodokus’s room keys. Utz had evidently taken them from the man’s body before throwing it in the water. Mumbling softly to himself, Utz passed so close to her that she held her breath, willing not even the smallest sound to reveal her hiding place.

Marie realized that when Utz went back to get the package from Jodokus’s room, he would learn that the documents had disappeared and also that a woman had recently visited Jodokus there. Marie tried to guess how long it would take Utz to find her. One hour, maybe two? It wouldn’t take longer than that. She had to leave the city as quickly as possible, and every fiber of her being was screaming out to not return to the inn. Knowing she couldn’t abandon Hiltrud, she bit her finger to try to get over her fear.

Peering out, Marie listened as Utz left, whistling. It didn’t seem to weigh on Utz’s conscience at all that he had just killed a man. Marie briefly considered running back to town and reporting him as a murderer. But the word of a woman, especially a prostitute, carried almost no weight in court. Utz would simply laugh in her face and be happy she had spared him the effort of looking for her. Therefore she waited until she could be sure he had reached town; then she ran back to the inn as fast as she could in the ghostly light of the fog-enshrouded rising moon.

Luck was on her side, as she found the inn at once. Tiptoeing in through the front door, she could hear loud voices coming from the taproom. There was a quiet moment when only the rattling of dice in a leather cup could be heard, followed by cheers and an obscene curse. She sneaked past the taproom to her own room, where she found Hiltrud anxiously staring at the dwindling light of a small candle stump.

Smiling with relief, she looked at Marie. “Here you are, finally. I was afraid you’d absconded with the monk.”

“Or the other way around,” Marie replied. “All joking aside, we must leave at once. Our lives are in danger.”

“Hiltrud gazed at her in astonishment. “What happened?”

“Jodokus was trying to blackmail Rupert, and Rupert sent Utz to kill him.”

“The same Utz who raped you?” Hiltrud could see the sheer terror in Marie’s face.

Marie tried to smile calmly but couldn’t. “Yes, he’s the one. It won’t be long before he figures out I have exactly what he was trying to take from Jodokus, and then we’ll be next.”

Hiltrud shivered as if she were freezing. “Then let’s leave. I’m only sorry we paid two weeks in advance for the room.”

Marie demurred. “I’m not sorry enough to stay. I’d prefer a night out under the stars to this stinking hole.”

“As I’ve said before, you’re too fussy,” Hiltrud joked as she quickly packed her belongings. Then she tied them all together in a bundle, which she hoisted over her shoulder. Before opening the door, she blew out the candle and put the stump in her pocket.

“After all, we paid for it,” she said to Marie, who slipped silently past her and hurried down the stairs. To her relief, they left without being noticed, fleeing for the second time that year into the unknown.