“Tell me, please, how it all came about. I only know bits and pieces.”
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.”