Death and the Devil

He stared out at the river, feeling his good mood evaporate. “What do you want?” he asked coldly.

Kuno Kone came up from behind, slowly walked around, and planted himself in front of him. “I would like a word with you, if you would be so kind.”

Matthias hesitated, one eye still on the barrels of wine. Then he lost interest in them and shrugged his shoulders. “I can’t think what there is to talk about,” he said irritably.

“I can. You have excluded me from your discussions.”

“That was Johann, not me.”

“Yes, you, too,” Kuno insisted. “You agree with Johann that I might betray our plan. What an unworthy suspicion!”

“Unworthy? Oh, we’re unworthy now, are we?” The corners of Matthias’s mouth turned down in scorn. “You won’t get anywhere with me with hackneyed phrases like that. What would have been your reaction if I’d knocked, say, Johann or Theoderich down?”

“I—I would have taken a less heavy-handed approach.”

“Aha, less heavy-handed!” Matthias gave a harsh laugh. “You’re a sentimental clod, Kuno. I’m not suggesting you’re going to betray us, but your brain is softened by emotion, and that’s even worse. With the best of intentions you can produce the worst of results. That’s why you’ve been excluded. There’s no more to say.”

“There is!” Kuno shook his head vigorously. “I’m willing to ignore the hurt and the insults, but have you forgotten it’s my brothers who are living in exile, banished and outlawed?”

“Of course not.”

“They were magistrates too, just like—Daniel.” He had great difficulty pronouncing the name. “Bruno and Hermann would die for our alliance, they—”

“No one is going to die for an alliance whose sole function is to represent his interests.”

“But they believe in the alliance, and they believe in me. Who’s going to keep them informed, if not me?”

“You should have thought of that before.”

“It’s never too late for remorse, Matthias.”

Matthias, still staring at the river, slowly shook his head. “Too late for you,” he said.

“Matthias! Trust me. Please. I have to know how things stand. What about the redhead? Has Urquhart—”

“Leave me in peace.”

“And what shall I tell my brothers?”

Matthias stared at him from beneath furrowed brows. “As far as I’m concerned, you can tell them they have a weakling for a brother who lacks self-control. They can always complain to me, once they’re allowed back in Cologne. For the time being—”

He broke off. One of the servants he had assigned to Urquhart was coming into the customs yard.

“Matthias, I beg you—” Kuno pleaded.

Matthias silenced him with a gesture, tensely waiting for the messenger. The man was completely out of breath. Without a word, he took a parchment roll tied with a leather thong out of his doublet and handed it to Matthias.

“What’s this?”

“Your friend, the Dominican with the fair hair,” the servant panted.

“Yes? And? Out with it!”

“He gave it to me, sir.”

“Without saying anything? Pull yourself together, man. Where did you meet him?”

“He met me, sir. We were checking the area around St. Cecilia’s when he suddenly appeared. He was pushing a large handcart, fully loaded, with a blanket over it, all I know is—no, just a minute, I was to tell you the cart was full of life and that it was, was—how did he put it, for God’s sake?—oh yes, it was of the utmost importance that you read the letter, and, and—”

He halted. From the expression of despair on his face, it was clear he had lost the thread of Urquhart’s words.

“Remember,” Matthias barked at him, “or it’ll be the last thing you forget.”

“—and lose no time at all.” As the words came rushing out, the servant heaved a sigh of relief.

Impatiently Matthias tore the scroll out of his hand, untied the thong, and started to read. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Kuno edging closer. Lowering the letter, he gave him an icy stare. “It’s about time you left.”

“You can’t simply send me away like that,” wailed Kuno. “I promise to make up for my mistake—”

“Go!”

Breathing heavily, Kuno stared at him for a moment, as if undecided whether to fall to his knees or strike Matthias down. Then he angrily gathered his cloak around him, turned on his heel without a further word, and stalked off. Matthias watched him until he had disappeared through the gate.

The servant was hopping nervously from one foot to the other. “There’s something else, sir—”

“Out with it, then.”

With a nervous start, the man began his tale, but went about it in such a stuttering, roundabout way, Matthias at first had no idea what he was trying to tell him. Finally he realized they had allowed the redhead and the dean to escape.

He stared at the parchment. “You all deserve a good thrashing,” he said. A thin smile appeared on his lips. “However, the news is not entirely bad and I’ve better things to do at the moment. Get back to your post before I change my mind.”

The servant made a clumsy bow and ran off.