Alchemy, p.47
Alchemy, page 47
‘Huh.’ He looked up at the stars again. ‘But why did none of them tell me sooner? Esther, her father – you, John?’
‘We feared displeasing you, Majesty,’ John said.
‘Well, I’m not delighted to learn of it now,’ he said with a little huff. ‘God’s blood, I was willing to bring down the wrath of all Christendom on my own head for her sake. But – I will not be the king who takes another man’s lamb and leaves him with nothing. Go away, all of you. I need to think.’
‘As your physician, I must counsel you to think indoors, Your Majesty,’ Hajek said. ‘It’s bitterly cold tonight.’
‘Yes, all right.’ He allowed Hajek to guide him towards the stairs. ‘But if you cared about my health, Thaddeus, you would not have shot my lion with a poison dart. He’s very unwell. You know that if he dies, I will follow.’
‘He’s not going to die. He has the heart of a lion, as do you.’
‘My heart is shattered in pieces,’ Rudolf said with his customary flair for the dramatic. At the stairs, he turned and looked at me. ‘Giordano Bruno – I find myself without a librarian now that Ottavio is gone. Do you want the job? I would give my imprimatur to whatever books you wrote here.’
I was so taken aback, I had no idea how to answer. I thought of that exquisite room with its thousands of volumes, and how it might be to have the run of it, to be the one with the authority to send for forbidden manuscripts from every corner of the known world. Guaranteed patronage from the Emperor – for as long as his reign lasted, anyway. Another part of me wanted nothing more than to leave Prague and its scheming at my back.
‘Can I have some time to consider it, Your Majesty?’
‘Very well. Don’t take too long, though. And you, John Dee—’
‘Your Majesty?’
‘Tell the Maharal I wish to speak to him.’
‘Now, Majesty?’
‘No. There has been enough to contend with for one day. Tomorrow night will do. And, John – I will make you my chief alchemist, if you promise me you will not work for Rozmberk.’
John bowed stiffly. ‘I am yours to command in all things, Your Majesty.’
‘Yes, well,’ the Emperor said. ‘As Bruno has pointed out, that is a cold kind of affection.’
‘Did that work, do you think?’ I asked John as I walked with him back to the Rozmberk Palace.
‘It’s planted the seed,’ he said. ‘Now we must allow him to persuade himself that giving her up was his idea in the first place. Which he will, in time. He likes the idea of defying the Church, but he baulks at displeasing God.’
‘Well, thank you. It was an impressive performance, given how reluctant you were to do it.’
‘I don’t like lying about the angels, Bruno. It’s disrespectful. I know you don’t believe in them,’ he added, with a hint of indulgence.
‘I believe that you believe in them, John, and you are the cleverest man I know, so who am I to argue? You’re sure you won’t come back to Hajek’s tonight?’
‘I think I’ll stay here a while longer,’ he said as we reached the portico of the Rozmberk Palace. ‘While I wait to see if Rudolf means what he says. He is notoriously capricious, but you must know that by now. What about you? Imperial librarian – do you like the idea?’
‘Ah, God, I don’t know.’ I shook my head. ‘I came here with the purpose of securing the Emperor’s patronage, and now I have the offer of it, I’m not so sure. I don’t know if Prague could ever feel like home.’
‘Home.’ He looked at me with a mournful smile and laid a hand on my shoulder. ‘There’s a word that neither of us has been able to say for a long time. I am thinking of going back to England, you know. I’ve written to Walsingham to see if it would be safe for me now. I miss the old place, for all its faults.’
‘So do I. I must go. I’ve left Besler at the Winged Horse – Greta is patching him up after his bout with the Spaniard.’
John made a face. ‘It will be a while before I trust that woman again.’
‘She was trying to protect someone she loved. You’d do the same. I suppose Hajek will have to find a new housekeeper now.’
‘I rather think he might get himself a wife instead,’ John said, pulling me into an embrace that almost crushed my ribs. ‘You should follow his example, Bruno. It’s not good for a man to be so solitary.’
I walked back towards the gatehouse across an empty courtyard. Frost glittered on the cobbles; from beyond the walls, the lonely howling of the wolves in Lion Court carried through the cold air. I should have felt relieved that it was all over – joyful, even, at the prospect the Emperor had dangled before me. Instead, I felt hollowed out. I thought of David’s wife and children. Would it have been better for them if Ottavio had been caught and executed for his murder, or would it make no difference to their grief? Not that banishment was lenient; I knew from experience that exile was a punishment of attrition. I understood John’s longing for home all too well. I was mulling on his last words as I passed the cathedral; without warning, a cloaked figure materialised out of the shadows and fell into step beside me. I jumped back, reaching for my dagger, when a familiar Italian voice said, ‘Put it away, Bruno – if I wanted you dead, it would have happened by now.’
‘You do want me dead,’ I said, sheathing the knife. I could see Montalcino’s smile glinting under his hood.
‘But I want you to repent first,’ he said. ‘Preferably in public.’
‘Repent of what?’
‘Of being you. I wanted to let you know I’ve been recalled to Rome.’
‘That was sudden. Afraid of what the Spaniard might say under torture?’
‘Oh, he won’t talk. And in fact, it’s been in train for a while. His Holiness is unhappy with my lack of progress in guiding Rudolf back to his Catholic duties.’ His mouth twisted and I wondered what had prompted this confession; the failure of his mission was a professional humiliation that he would feel deeply.
‘Christ, is he replacing you with someone even worse?’
‘Yes, hilarious.’ He gave me a reproving look. ‘I came to call a truce, actually.’
‘What’s the catch?’
‘No catch.’ He reached into his cloak; I tensed again, but he drew out John’s notebook. ‘Have you mentioned me to Rudolf in your report on the murder of Bartos?’
‘No. But he thinks Matthias is involved.’
He let out a short laugh. ‘Matthias couldn’t plot a bacchanalia in a vintner’s. Listen – I will give you this book in return for keeping my name out of any talk of a conspiracy against the Emperor. John Dee is small fry to Rome, and in any case, the damned thing’s unreadable.’
‘All right,’ I said. I knew it would put John’s mind at rest. ‘But why do you care what is said of you in Prague? You won’t even be here. Aren’t you going back to breaking people’s fingers for the Lord?’
‘Since you ask, there is talk of a cardinal’s hat,’ he said, allowing himself a modest preen. ‘So until that is settled, I would prefer not to be associated with an assassination conspiracy, even in rumour. Are we agreed?’
‘How do you know I will keep my word?’
‘I don’t. And yet I do believe, misguided as you are, that you take pride in a sense of yourself as a man of honour. So I do think your word is worth something, if only because keeping it allows you to maintain your belief in your own integrity.’
I could not follow his logic, but it didn’t sound like a compliment. Nevertheless, I allowed him to give me the kiss of peace on both cheeks – as sincerely as Judas, I thought – and he passed me the book.
‘Well, good luck, I suppose,’ I said. ‘It must be nice to fail at your job and be rewarded for it.’
‘Oh, luck has nothing to do with it.’ He touched a finger to the bristles on his cheek, a tic that had always made me want to slap his hand away. ‘It’s a question of strategy.’
I smiled; I had said the same to Jan Boodt about cards.
‘But I make you this promise, Bruno,’ he continued. ‘When I am cardinal, if you should ever set foot in the Italian states again in your sorry life, I will know about it, and I will have you in front of the Inquisition before you can open your mouth to beg forgiveness.’
‘What makes you think I would ever beg forgiveness?’ I said, turning briskly away before I was tempted to take a swing at him, which would be exactly what he wanted.
‘Arrivederci, Giordano Bruno,’ he called after me. ‘I feel certain that we will meet again. Call it a premonition.’
THIRTY-SIX
‘What now, Maestro?’ Besler said as we walked over the Stone Bridge the following afternoon. We paused at the plinth where Bartos had hung and looked out across the city, its hundred spires catching the last sunlight as the chorus of bells struck the hour of four. The days were beginning to lengthen, I thought; it was almost spring.
‘Now,’ I said, ‘we must make arrangements for you to return to your studies.’
‘What?’ He turned, crestfallen. ‘But I don’t want to go back to Wittenberg yet. I have learned so much here with you these past few days, far more than I did at the university.’
‘Yes, but not necessarily the lessons your father is paying for you to learn,’ I said. ‘I mean, look at your face.’
He touched a finger gingerly to his black eye and turned back to survey the view. ‘I will have so much news to tell him in my next letter,’ he said. ‘Imagine his expression when he hears we are to have dinner with a famous rabbi!’
‘I’m imagining it,’ I said. ‘Listen, Besler – you are a grown man now, as you keep reminding me. If you want to go on working with me, perhaps you need to be circumspect about how much you share with your family. As the prophet Ezekiel said, there is a time to keep silence and a time to speak, and a time not to mention to your father that you were nearly seduced by a countess and ended up in a gaol cell for fighting off a mercenary who was trying to abduct you in order to blackmail me. Do you understand? Because if he could see the state of you now, I don’t think he’d allow you to continue as my student.’ Privately, I thought Herr Besler would go further than that, if he discovered his son’s adventures in Prague; I suspected he would ensure the University of Wittenberg had nothing further to do with me, and I did not want to burn my bridges there just yet.
‘Yes, Maestro.’ He dipped his head.
And how much would I share, in my next letter to Francis Walsingham? It would depend on whether I decided to take the Emperor up on his offer. I imagined Walsingham would enjoy the idea of having one of his people positioned at the heart of the Bohemian court, especially if John Dee was planning to leave; I could make myself useful to England again.
‘Well, Maestro?’ Besler said, turning away from the river and stamping his feet against the cold. ‘Have you made your decision yet?’
‘I have decided,’ I said, slinging an arm around his shoulder, ‘that we deserve a drink. Let’s see if Greta will be kind enough to give us one on the house. Though I’d stay away from the schnapps if I were you.’
‘You know, that girl at the Winged Horse winked at me last time I was there,’ he remarked.
‘Irenka? She’d have you for breakfast,’ I said, laughing, as we passed under the tower. ‘Check she doesn’t have a husband first, eh. I’ll meet you there.’
‘Why, where are you going?’
‘There’s something I need to do first.’
‘A dog? For me?’ Sukie leaned on the doorframe, frowning. ‘Why?’
‘Well, I’ve rescued him from a terrible fate,’ I said. I had expected unconfined delight from her at the prospect of a pet; instead she was looking at me as if there had been some kind of clerical error. Perhaps I had no idea about children after all. The small white dog wriggled in my arms, then reached up to lick my face. The boy with the flute had bargained me up to three thalers for him, which was three times what he’d get for handing him over to the Powder Tower. I supposed it made sense that life should be worth more than death. ‘I thought he’d be company when your father’s out working. He probably needs a good bath though – he doesn’t smell too good close up. The dog, not your father.’
She giggled and held the door for me to come in. The house had been cleaned and straightened since I had last seen it, the broken lock patched up.
‘Far! Bruno’s brought me a present.’
Erik looked up from the corner where he was fixing a chair that had been broken during the Spaniards’ raid. ‘You have got to be joking,’ he said, eyeing the dog. ‘Just what I need – another mouth to feed.’
‘He eats anything, apparently,’ I said, setting him down on the floor. Sukie crouched to tickle his ears.
‘Don’t be silly, Far,’ she said. ‘We don’t have to worry about that now you have your commission from the Emperor.’
‘What commission?’ I said, affecting ignorance.
Erik straightened and brushed himself down. ‘His Majesty has invested in the development of my method for refining saltpetre, with a share of the profits if it increases production,’ he said, trying to look modest. ‘I suppose I have you to thank for that?’
‘Thank Dr Hajek. He persuaded the Emperor to look at your drawings. He was grateful for your help in saving Magda.’
‘Anyway,’ Sukie said, ‘we’ll have plenty of room for a dog when we move.’
‘You’re leaving Golden Lane?’ I said, surprised.
Erik nodded. ‘This place has not been good for our health. I’m taking lodgings in the Lesser Town, now I can afford it. More light. Better class of neighbour.’ He crossed the room and shook me vigorously by the hand; I could see in his eyes that he was fighting back emotion. ‘If you hadn’t showed up at our door, I might still be drinking myself into a stupor in the Blue Elephant,’ he said, his voice cracking, ‘and God knows what would have become of my girl. I won’t forget what you’ve done for us, Bruno. If there’s ever any way I can help you while you are in Prague – you just have to ask.’
I nodded, embarrassed. ‘I will.’
‘What’s his name?’ Sukie asked, glancing up. The dog had rolled on to his back in a shameless bid to have his tummy scratched.
‘That’s for you to decide,’ I said.
She considered for a moment. ‘Golem?’ she suggested.
‘I am not shouting that down the street, thank you,’ Erik said firmly.
‘You’re right, he doesn’t look like a Golem.’ She squinted into the dog’s face. ‘He looks clever and a bit sad. I think I’ll call him Ziggi.’
I caught Erik’s eye; he shrugged, as if to say: children – what can you do?
The cemetery in the Jewish Town was a patch of ground barely more than a couple of acres, but crowded with hundreds of headstones tilting at unwieldy angles, like a mouth full of crooked teeth. I followed a narrow path between the graves until I saw her standing motionless in front of one that was freshly dug. We stood for a moment in silence, our heads lowered, then I laid the pebble I had brought on the headstone. Esther turned to me, leaf-shadow playing across her face, hiding her expression.
‘It’s my fault,’ she said eventually, so softly I barely caught the words. ‘If I had not believed that I could control the situation with the Emperor – if I had simply said no from the beginning, then David would not have felt the need to take matters into his own hands.’
‘Your father blames himself too,’ I said. ‘But you both did what you thought was right. It’s no one’s fault but the person who killed him.’
‘And he has run from the law,’ she said, her anger quiet but potent. ‘Along with his sister, who would have killed me too if you had not guessed at her plan in time.’
Hajek’s remedies had done their work; over the past day she had recovered enough to be taken home. She still looked fragile, her cheekbones sharper, dark hollows under her eyes. I felt an overwhelming urge to put my arm around her, feel her lean into me. I fought to resist it.
‘But to bring them both to trial would have made public the story about Rudolf’s intentions towards you,’ I reminded her. ‘You would have been the subject of every alehouse gossipmonger, every bawdy pamphlet sold in the Old Town Square, every filthy tavern ballad. The repercussions might have been worse than a few broken windows.’
‘Oh, I know. I’d have been forever remembered as the conniving Jewess who tried to manipulate the Holy Roman Emperor with my wiles.’ She forced a smile. ‘I understand I have you to thank for extricating me from the situation.’
‘The idea was mine – the performance was all John Dee’s.’
‘Well, I am grateful.’ She let out a shaky breath. ‘You know, I never wanted to be the Emperor’s wife – of course I didn’t, but for a moment I almost convinced myself that I could step up to the role, if it was my destiny. That must sound self-important. But I was fed the story of my namesake from a very young age.’ She wrapped her arms around her thin frame, still looking at the grave. ‘And in a way I felt sorry for Rudolf. I think he is a very lonely man.’
‘Was he angry with your father for deceiving him?’
‘He shouted. But the rabbi placated him in the end. Rudolf said—’ she pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh – ‘he said he’d been having second thoughts about the circumcision anyway. He hadn’t realised that would be a necessary condition of converting.’
‘What will happen to David’s shop?’ I asked, thinking of all those beautiful volumes.
She turned to me, and for the first time I saw the light return to her eyes.
‘Well, someone needs to run it until his son is old enough to take over. So I told Sarah I would do it.’
‘That’s wonderful. But is it—’ I stopped, not wishing to be tactless.
‘Unusual?’ She smiled. ‘Yes, very. I imagine it will raise a few eyebrows. But why should I not, just because I am a woman? I know plenty about books – I am my father’s daughter, after all.’
Her eyes met mine and I held her gaze for a long moment, as I felt my heart constrict.
