Morbus Dei: The Sign of Aries - Matthias Bauer Morbus Dei (English)

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stared at him, aghast.

      ‘Eventually. As we all will,’ said the physician with a laugh. He helped himself to another swig of wine and lit his pipe. ‘And now off you go, I too deserve a bit of rest.’

      The cool evening air outside was a shock. Johann, Hans and Karl took a few deep breaths.

      ‘Animal and man joined together–that’s not the will of God,’ said Hans, shaking his head.

      ‘It’s all the same when it comes down to it, even if he’d joined him with a sow–as long as it helps,’ said Karl, grinning at Hans.

      Von Binden was sitting on a barrel, chewing tobacco and watching his daughter trying to balance a stick on her nose. She was managing it pretty well, if only for a few moments at a time.

      Johann sat down beside him.

      ‘Has he survived?’ asked von Binden, without taking his eyes off his daughter.

      Johann nodded with a grunt. ‘I’ve heard of such methods but never thought they were actually put into practice.’

      ‘‘The church does everything it can to prevent them. New ideas are always the work of the devil!’

      ‘Was it the work of the devil then?’ asked Johann, looking at von Binden doubtfully. Von Binden shrugged his shoulders.

      ‘What isn’t the work of the devil? We’re all born sinners and we die sinners, and during our lives we commit sins, that’s the way it is. I think, if the treatment helps, then it can’t be so very wrong.’

      Johann cleared his throat. ‘I bet the lamb doesn’t see it that way.’

      Von Binden couldn’t help smiling to himself. ‘Some say the animal’s characteristics are transferred to the human being through its blood.’

      ‘So the Prussian’s going to become–as meek as a lamb then?’ said Johann, with a guffaw. ‘That’ll be the day!’

      The two men continued to watch with amusement the acrobatic arts of the girl in front of them. It was a tranquil moment, the first in a long time.

      ‘I wonder what a physician of his calibre is doing in a village like this. Couldn’t he be a court physician?’

      ‘Leonardus hasn’t always lived here,’ said von Binden. ‘I first met him at the court of Prince Ferdinand August von Lobkowicz, the Duke of Sagan. The Duke’s daughter had a serious riding fall when a yapping dog frightened her horse and bit a chunk out of her thigh. That spelled death–for the mutt,’ said the Count with a fleeting grin. ‘His daughter failed to make a recovery, though. Nothing helped–not bloodletting, not herbal tinctures, not prayers. When she was finally at death’s door, the Prince summoned Leonardus to his court and ordered him to give her a transfusion, a method much talked about. Leonardus was against it for he knew the child was too weak. But the Prince assured him that he would incur no blame should the unthinkable happen. So Leonardus carried out the procedure to the best of his knowledge and belief but the girl died a few hours after the transfusion.’

      The Count spat out a bit of chewing tobacco. ‘Prince von Lobkowicz was distraught. He not only cut off all Leonardus’ privileges but he also did everything to ensure that no blue blood ever consulted him again. Or anyone else for that matter. Leonardus lost all his possessions, all his privileges and finally his wife. After that, he came to live here in Deutsch-Altenburg. He’s never got over what happened.’

      ‘So that’s why he overdoes it with the wine,’ said Johann, pensively.

      ‘No,’ retorted von Binden, ’he always was a drinker.’

      IV

      Billows of gun smoke everywhere, and the sound of screams and the bark of commands. The dead and the wounded lay at their feet.

      There was the sharp report of guns firing.

      Suddenly the Prussian slumped to the ground beside Elisabeth and they both fell over. There was blood streaming from the Prussian’s leg. ‘Elisabeth–’

      She stared at him, horror-struck. Scrambling to her feet, she stretched out her hand to him–a hand streaked with black veins.

      ‘Heinz, I–’

      At that moment a soldier shot up behind her, grabbed hold of her and dragged her off. She put up a fierce struggle but to no avail.

      She caught a last glimpse of Karl helping the Prussian to his feet and dragging him towards the barge, to where Johann was waiting.

      Then there was a black carriage in front of her and a door opened …

      Elisabeth was jolted out of her doze. The prison waggon gave her no peace. The other prisoners were lying higgledy-piggledy, trying to snatch some sleep too if only to stop their minds from running upon the same questions.

      Where are they taking us? What are they going to do with us?

      Suddenly they heard commands being shouted outside, muffled by the heavy tarpaulin, and the waggon slowed to a standstill.

      The prisoners woke each other up and there was general disquiet. They waited in the darkness, dreading that the end had finally come.

      Footsteps came towards the door and then stopped. Elisabeth held her breath.

      The tarpaulin was loosened from outside and pulled back. Light glared into the waggon, making the prisoners flinch. A few of them crawled frantically back into the dark corners to hide their sensitive skin from the daylight.

      Although it was painful, Elisabeth opened her eyes slightly. She had to know whether it wasn’t perhaps–

      The silhouettes of several men were standing in front of the door. No chance of escape then.

      A key turned in the lock and the door was wrenched open. Four mercenaries had formed a guard of honour, and a fifth stuck his head into the carriage. ‘Outside all of you!’ he barked. ‘You can take a leak over there and have a drink from that well. Then you can spend the night in that farmstead. Anyone who tries to escape will be shot, and anyone who causes any trouble, likewise. And anyone who gets on my nerves too! Any questions? No, that’s good!’

      Trembling, Elisabeth climbed first out of the carriage, aching all over from having been sitting for so long. She glanced about her in the wan evening light, which she had at first mistaken for the glaring midday sun. The horizon was brighter to her right, so they must be heading southwards. There was a burnt-out farmstead nearby with large, white St Andrew’s crosses painted on its gates, somewhat weather-beaten. Elisabeth recognized the warning signs only too well: the farm had been hit by the plague.

      The first of the prisoners bolted towards the well and greedily scooped up some water, and mothers vanished behind the bushes with their children whilst the mercenaries watched them like hawks. Others chose to remain in the protective darkness of the waggons until nightfall.

      The black carriage had come to a standstill outside a Gasthaus further along the wayside.

      Elisabeth took big breaths of the cool evening air and it helped to clear her head.

      Of all the questions that were bothering her, only two were of any real importance: where was Johann now? And how in the world would he ever be able to find her?

      She had no answers to these questions at present. There was only one thing she could do–stay alive and try to escape if she got the chance. She owed Johann that much, she owed her child that much.

      She stroked the almost imperceptible bulge of her belly. Then she heard crying, looked up and saw one of the mercenaries driving a mother with two small children out of the bushes. ’Get on with it, we haven’t got all evening!’

      There were tears streaming down the children’s little cheeks, which were criss-crossed with black veins.

      Elisabeth took her hand away from her stomach and felt her tears welling up. Hastily she wiped them away and went to the well.

      A bonfire crackled in the centre of the circle

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