Death and the Devil

Almost the whole group was gathered around the wide black table. Of the Overstolzes, Johann, Matthias, Daniel, and Theoderich were there, plus Heinrich von Mainz. Kuno represented the Kones, since his brothers, Bruno and Hermann, had been exiled. It would have been fatal for them to let themselves be seen in Cologne.

Blithildis Overstolz was sitting a little to one side. She looked as if she were sleeping. Only the slight trembling of her fingers showed that she was wide awake and alert.

There was nothing on the table, no wine, no fruit.

Johann looked around the assembled company. “Good,” he said, “we’re all here. Seven who share a secret plan. Plus two banished men whose fate is in our hands.” He paused. “That is not many when you remember our goal and in whose interest we are acting. Each one of us has sworn an oath committing him to absolute, unconditional silence and obedience as far as our cause is concerned. One would have thought such a handful of loyal comrades would be like a coat of chain mail, each link so interwoven, no one can tear it apart. United we stand.” His eyes went around the table and rested on Kuno, who was sitting with bowed head. “Clearly I was wrong. Can you tell me why, Kuno?”

Kuno turned toward him without meeting his gaze. “Ask Daniel,” he replied in a low voice.

“I’ll ask Daniel soon enough. For the moment the question is, why did you knock him down at Gerhard’s funeral? Apart from the danger to us all that represented, it was an act of sacrilege.”

“Sacrilege?” Kuno leaped up. “You can talk of sacrilege? You who had Gerhard murdered?”

Daniel stared daggers, but he remained silent.

“Sit down,” said Johann calmly. “If you are going to talk of Gerhard’s murderers, then remember you are as much a murderer as we are.”

“You made the decision, not me.”

“No. We took certain measures to attain certain goals that we, and many of our class, hope to achieve. You too, Kuno. You leaped at the chance of freeing your brothers from their banishment—without expressing any scruples about the action we all deemed unavoidable. Do you really think you can pick and choose as far as responsibility is concerned? Accept what seems reasonable to you and leave us to bear the rest because it’s not to your taste? You didn’t bat an eyelid at the idea of ordering a death, indeed, you were one of the first to agree. But now you seem to want to distinguish between one death and another, you accept one but not the other, though both are grievous sins. Are you less of a sinner than the rest of us because you didn’t reckon with the death of a man you loved and therefore refuse to accept responsibility for it? As I said, you cannot pick and choose when all these actions flow from one and the same decision, which you made along with the others. You may not have wanted Gerhard’s death, but you must accept responsibility for it, whether you like it or not. If you reject it, then you reject us and place yourself outside our group. We will be compelled to regard you as someone we cannot trust.”

Kuno had gone pale. He started to speak, then shook his head and sat down.

“And now to you, Daniel,” Johann went on in the same flat tone. “You knew how hurt Kuno was. Kuno Kone has no parents; Gerhard was father and friend to him. What did you say to him during the funeral?”

“I told him he was a coward. Is that reason to attack me?”

“That’s not true,” Kuno screamed at him. “You accused Gerhard and me of—of unnatural lusts.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Crazy. What would you call it if someone asked you—” He broke off. His chin began to tremble.

“What did you say to Kuno?” Johann repeated his question.

Daniel’s lips quivered with contempt. He looked at Kuno, eyes half closed, and leaned back. “I asked him what he had done with his strong perfume, since he was on his way to sleep with a dead man for the next three nights.”

There was shocked silence in the room. All eyes turned away from Daniel. He frowned and folded his arms defiantly.

“Daniel,” said Matthias softly, “if it were up to me, I would beat you till the flesh dropped from your bones.”

Daniel stared at the ceiling.

“Yes, well—” said Johann. He placed his fingertips together. “Things are not going as well as they might. We have gone as close as we can to attracting attention to ourselves by putting some of our servants at Urquhart’s disposal. The redhead still hasn’t been found. Urquhart’s idea of getting his witnesses to perform outside Gerhard’s house was a neat tactical stroke, but we still can’t rest easy. This Jacob could be passing on what he knows at any moment. We’ll have to keep our eyes open, too. This situation has unfortunately made further deaths necessary—”

“A whore and a beggar,” muttered Daniel dismissively.

“You shouldn’t talk like that about whores,” Theoderich remarked. “If my information is correct, you make pretty frequent use of their services.”