“Nice and warm in here,” yawned the guard.
Heinrich nodded. He was surprised how comfortable it was.
“Aye, no need for hearth fires. … Good thing else we’d choke on smoke!”
Heinrich grunted and stared about.
The guard was bored and happy to humor the curious man. “See here,” he pointed to a vein of salt. “We needs not hammer away at it. Look, there.” He pointed to some sawed lumber and then held his torch to a hole recently drilled in from above. “We’d be some furlong into the mountain, and about the same distance ‘neath the church that sits atop. In here’s a maze of tunnels from long ago. … They go all ways. See here, the carpenters build a dam in the tunnel, then the workers’ll pour water in from that hole above yer head. They’ll flood the place in springtime.”
“Flood it? Why?”
“Ha … that’s the wonder of the new way. The water dissolves the salt from the walls, then carries it out when the dam is broke into the big vats they’re building down below. Then well boil the water to dry the vats and you’ve salt left on the bottom!”
“Ah!” Heinrich understood.
“Methinks it clever.”
“Aye … very.” Heinrich walked past the guard and moved deeper into the lonely tunnel.
The guard’s voice followed him. “Glück auf.”
“Huh?”
“Glück auf… ‘tis the miner’s well-wish.”
“Ah. Glück auf to you.”
“M’thanks … and beware the bodies and the lake.”
“Bodies?”
“Aye.”
Heinrich stopped walking and called back to the dim torch and the hollow voice beneath it. “W-what bodies?”
“We finds them from time to time, dead men preserved by the salt. You’ll have quite a start if you walk by one with your torch. And up ahead ‘tis the lake. Better if you don’t go for a swim.”
Heinrich paused, then turned around. Perhaps he had seen enough of the mine!
News of caravans gathering in Salzburg reached the ears of Heinrich on a rainy day in late April of 1210. Immediately, he set off to inform Ladislav that he would be leaving his position and was ready for his final salary. Ladislav was in no hurry to lose his master baker, however. Heinrich was good at task and had treated both Ladislav and the numerous agents of the archbishop to delicious honey cakes and sweet treats that had lightened the drab fare of winter.
“I needs permission from Laszlo.”
Heinrich was agitated. “I needs be on m’way. The caravans are forming in the city now.”
Ladislav grunted. “Go without your salt, then.”
Heinrich hesitated. He had been frugal all winter. Actually, he had not converted any of his prior salt payments for coins. A wise old miner had bartered him some wisdom for a pretzel. He told Heinrich that salt was more valuable farther from the mines. He’d get a better price with the Italians. The thrifty baker had lived all winter eating from the bakery and sleeping for free. He had not needed any money, but wanted his final payment.
“Then I shall go m’self to the steward.” Heinrich was firm. It felt good to him to deal as though he were a freeman.
Heinrich jumped aboard a cart bound for the city and as soon as he arrived, he climbed the road to the castle once more. He waited all that day and far into the night before Laszlo would see him. At last, he was ushered into the steward’s shadowy chamber.
“Aye?”
“Sire, I am Heinrich the baker at Hallein.”
“Indeed. I’ve heard your work is good. Why are you here?”
“I’ve come to collect m’salary for I’m to leave on m’pilgrimage with a caravan.”
Laszlo motioned for his secretary to leave. He walked toward his hearth and motioned for Heinrich to join him. “Sit, Heinrich. There, on that stool.”
Heinrich sat obediently. A sense of dread began to creep over him. He nervously adjusted his clothing and stared into the fire.
Laszlo sat close by and stared into the flames. His bony face was etched in deep shadows and when he turned to face the baker his dark eyes seemed to glow. “Have you ever seen a man hang?”
Heinrich’s mouth went dry and he sputtered an awkward, “Yes.”
“Look at me, baker. Do you think me a fool?”
Heinrich felt dizzy. “N-nay, sire.”
“Hmm. I have employed runaways for many years, runaways from all over the empire. Do you imagine I am such a fool as to not spot one with ease?”
The long pause was interrupted only by the crackling of tinder. “Nay, sire.”
“Heinrich, I have it within my power to hang you on the morrow, or to offer you and your heirs freedom. Do you understand?”