The Secret Healer (10 page)

Chapter Twelve

She arrived in the vibrant city of Worms in the late afternoon. The guards standing watch over the gate didn’t stop her. Without any goods, she made no impression on them since she didn’t seem to have business in the city. She was glad she took Hedwig’s advice to slip one of the old lady’s worn-out dresses over her men’s clothing before departing. Now she seemed a lot bigger than she actually was. Anyone she ran into would deny having seen a young, boyishly thin woman, as the sheriff probably described her. And the extra layer of clothes also had another advantage: the cold had less effect as she marched on. The opportunity to spend the night at Hedwig’s had proven to be very helpful to Madlen. But as good of a soul as Hedwig might be, she didn’t hesitate to take an extra coin for the old raggedy dress she’d given up. But that didn’t make any difference to Madlen; she was more thankful for the advice, which kept her at least as warm as the dress’s extra fabric.

She admired the hustle and bustle of the Worms harbor. There were dozens of young men carrying boxes on their shoulders, walking quickly here and there, ships sailing in to unload their wares and pick up new crates at the harbor. Others unloaded large merchant vessels, surefootedly carrying freight over narrow planks. There was movement everywhere. Madlen was impressed as she stared openmouthed at all the activity.

“Out of the way.” A young man carried two big crates and could barely see a thing as he almost ran over Madlen.

“Don’t just stand there; get to the side if you need to stand there and gawk,” he said as he passed her and approached a small boat, already overloaded and low in the water. “These are the last two,” she heard the man say to another man. “If you take more, the boat will sink before you sail her out of the harbor.”

The other man grumbled something unintelligible. Madlen watched as he pressed some coins into the younger man’s hands. He took the money, tipped his cap, and nimbly walked over the plank to shore, his work apparently done. His gaze fell on Madlen.

“Are you waiting for someone to fetch you?” He approached her with a wide grin.

She gathered all her courage, cleared her throat, and willed her voice to obey her. “Do you know a woman named Agathe?”

He stood still for a moment and scratched his head. “Agathe? I know somebody named Agathe. What’s the answer worth to you, girl?”

Madlen turned on her heels and stepped away. He followed and finally caught up to her. “Where are you going in such a hurry? Don’t get upset.”

Madlen did not slow her pace.

“Now wait a second, sweetheart. Tell me, which Agathe do you mean?”

Madlen stopped and cocked her head to the side.

“I don’t want any money,” he assured her.

“She probably lives close to the harbor.” Madlen thought harder about what she actually knew about her aunt. “She’s a widow and works as a seamstress, as far as I know.”

“Seamstress?” He scratched his head.

“Her husband’s name was Reinhard,” Madlen said. It was the last bit of information that she had.

“Agathe.” His eyes started to twinkle. “Yes, I know her. If you want, I can bring you to her.”

Madlen couldn’t quite put aside her suspicions. “You can just tell me where I can find her.”

He grimaced playfully. “Well, I deserve that. I’ll bring you to her anyway.” He took off and Madlen followed. He walked very slowly so she could catch up to him.

“What’s your name by the way?”

“Maria,” Madlen answered quickly, the same name she’d given Hedwig. It seemed wise to keep up the pretense for now.

“My name is Kuntz.” He searched Madlen’s eyes, but she looked straight ahead. “And what do you want from Agathe, Maria?”

Madlen didn’t answer.

“You’re as mute as the fish I catch.” He sulked.

They went farther along the harbor. The houses were built a lot closer to the wharf than they were in Heidelberg. There were also quite a few huts that didn’t appear to house any people at all.

“What are these structures?”

Kuntz followed Madlen’s view. “Just as I thought. You’re not from here.”

“The huts,” Madlen repeated.

“They’re not only in Worms. I believe that most of the harbors along the Rhine have them. They temporarily store goods.”

“Why doesn’t everybody just pick up the wares that were intended for them?”

Kuntz looked up suddenly. “How can anybody know so little about trade?” He laughed but stopped when he saw Madlen bow her head in embarrassment. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to be rude.” He spread out his arms. “I can hardly believe that you’ve never seen this before. I’m so used to all the hustle and bustle. I know there are harbors where even bigger ships sail, ones that travel over the ocean, carrying cargo we could only dream of here.” As Kuntz’s eyes lit up, Madlen almost chuckled.

“One of these days, believe me, I’ll be on one of them, traveling afar. I’ll see with my own eyes the sights the sailors talk about in their stories. There, on the sea, where there are fish as big as a church and people who dance and laugh all day long, where beautiful girls ensnare men and there are exotic goods wherever you turn.”

Madlen smiled. “Can we continue on our way?”

Kuntz nodded.

“You want to sail? My bro . . .” She cleared her throat. “My cousin, my uncle’s son, wants to go to sea, too.”

“Oh really? What country does he want to travel to?”

“I don’t know exactly, and believe me, neither does he.”

Kuntz laughed. “Same with me. I know that many don’t believe me. But one of these days, I’ll take off.” He stepped closer to Madlen. “Every penny that I earn, I save so that I can buy my passage.”

“How much does something like that cost?” Madlen asked, looking wide-eyed at Kuntz. Perhaps she could earn enough money to fulfill her brother’s dreams.

Kuntz waved her off. “A fortune, I can tell you that. But I’ll do it anyway.” He stopped again.

“I hope you do.”

“Thank you.” He lifted his arm and pointed. “We’re here.”

“Where?”

“At Agathe’s, of course.”

“Really?” Madlen looked over at the house, amazed. She never expected her aunt to be so well off.

“And you’re sure that this is the right Agathe?”

“Yes, why do you ask? What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing. So, you don’t know another Agathe, another widow whose husband was named Reinhard?”

Kuntz shook his head. “No, and I know just about everybody in this town.”

“All right.” Madlen turned again to the house. It was built of stone; it must have cost a fortune. But maybe only a fortune in her eyes. There were a lot of houses like this here. Did these people simply have more money than those in Heidelberg?

“Thank you, Kuntz. I can manage the rest myself.”

“Why don’t you knock on the door first to see whether this is the right Agathe?”

She’d had the same thought. But even if Kuntz was wrong, she didn’t want to spend any more time with him. He was too nosy.

“No, thank you anyway.”

“That’s your decision. I just wanted to help.” He didn’t budge.

“Why are you waiting?”

“I just want to stand here. Everybody in Worms has a right to stand where he wants.”

“I will only knock if you leave.”

“As if I am that interested,” he said, with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I only wanted to help you. But I have better things to do.” He turned away.

“Thank you, once more, for your help. It was very kind.”

He nodded, grimaced, and took a couple of steps.

“Oh, Kuntz?”

He turned around to face Madlen again. “Yes?”

“I really do hope you fulfill your dreams! Tell the big fish I said hello.”

A smile crept across his face. “I’ll do it, and when I do, I’ll throw my cap in greeting to the sea.”

She laughed and watched him for a moment to see how quickly he disappeared amid the throngs of people. Then she turned to the house and took a deep breath. She went up to the door, her legs wobbly as she hesitated a moment. She screwed up her courage and knocked. A woman yelled out that she’d be right there. The door opened just a crack. Madlen could barely make out the woman’s face, but she was far too young to be her aunt.

“Agathe?” she asked carefully.

The woman looked confused.

“I’m not Agathe,” she finally said. “Who are you?”

“My name is . . .” Madlen hesitated. If she used her real name at the wrong house, her carefully disguised tracks would be uncovered. On the other hand, she had to say a name her aunt would recognize.

“Is it possible for Agathe to come to the door?”

“What do you want with her?”

“Jerg sent me.”

“Jerg?”

“That’s correct.”

The woman scrutinized Madlen again. “Wait here please.” A little while later, she opened the door wide enough for Madlen to see another woman in the house.

“You say that my brother . . .” She took a step forward. “Madlen?”

“Maria,” she corrected hurriedly, hoping that she would have the opportunity to explain later.

It was clear that Agathe didn’t understand why her niece had introduced herself as Maria. But she stepped forward and embraced Madlen warmly. “Whatever the reason, I’m so happy to see you.” Her heart skipped a beat as she pushed Madlen away from her a bit. “Or did something happen to your father?”

Madlen shook her head. The look of sincere concern in her aunt’s eyes touched her. “No, he’s fine.”

“Then come in; you’re always welcome in my home.” She pulled Madlen by the hand into the hall.

“Roswitha, warm up some spiced wine and bring it to us.” She put her arm around Madlen’s shoulder. “Let’s find some peace and quiet so you can tell me what brings you here.”

Madlen was surprised that Agathe hugged her over and over again. She was obviously overjoyed to see her, although she didn’t know why. She leaned close to Agathe, so that neither Roswitha nor anyone else in the house could hear what she had to say. “I’m in trouble. I’m sorry to bother you so.”

Agathe looked deep into her eyes as they entered a dining room that apparently doubled as a sewing room. “Whatever it is, I’ll help you as much as I can. Sit down and tell me everything.” She looked at Madlen. “Or do you want to take a bath first? You might be more comfortable if you got out of these filthy clothes.”

Madlen hesitated. She hadn’t counted on so much warmth and friendliness. For a moment, she was so overwhelmed that she didn’t know how to behave.

“Don’t worry. I’ll get you something to wear.”

“That would be nice,” she said hesitantly.

“I’ll take care of it.” Agathe left the room in a hurry. When she returned, she told Madlen that she would bring her to the indoor bathroom and then go look for a dress. Madlen was too astounded to object. A bathroom! She followed her aunt silently upstairs and watched a male servant fill up a big tub with buckets of warm water. It was a while before it was full enough and the servant left the room. She hesitantly began to undress, when her aunt came into the room and carefully laid out towels and clothes for her. Madlen didn’t dare tell her that this was the first bath she’d ever taken. She entered the tub carefully and sank up to her shoulders in the warm water. It was wonderfully invigorating for her tired limbs. Agathe came in again with scented soap and washed her hair; Madlen thought that she must be having a wonderful dream, though it was still the middle of the day. She’d never seen or heard of anything like this. It was as if she had entered a totally different world.

She emerged from the tub when her skin became wrinkled. Madlen laughed at the sight of her fingers. “I hope that goes away.”

“Don’t give it a thought; after you’ve emptied a bottle of spiced wine, your fingers will look like they usually do.”

Madlen smiled. Her hands—in fact, her entire body—had never been this clean, even after scrubbing with soapy brushes before treating a pregnant woman. Everything here at Agathe’s seemed so foreign. If she had told her relative the real reason for her sudden appearance, she might have forfeited all of this in a blink of an eye. Agathe had received her with a cordiality that she could barely comprehend. She wanted to tell her the truth, even if Agathe decided to throw her back out onto the street.

She told her every detail of what had taken place in Heidelberg, taking small sips of spiced wine and letting it slip down her throat. She started from the terrible moment when Clara burned to death to a few days later when Barbara stood at her door begging for help. She also didn’t exclude the prearranged marriage to Heinfried. Agathe didn’t speak; she nodded every now and again and from time to time asked a question to make sure she understood her niece exactly. Finally, Madlen ended up telling her about how Andreas, Kilian, and Irma had distracted the guards at the Neckar River bridge so she could escape from Heidelberg.

“Does Jerg know that you’re here?”

Madlen gulped. She shook her head slowly.

“And Kilian? Do you think that he’ll tell your father?”

“No. Jerg lost a large sum of money because my marriage to Heinfried came to naught. He would probably want to see me hanging from the gallows himself. Kilian knows that. He would never say anything.”

“Then you have nothing to fear.” Agathe leaned toward Madlen and took her arm.

“Does this mean that I can stay for the time being?”

“As long as you want. From the bottom of my heart, I am so happy that you’re here. I’ll tell Roswitha that you’re the daughter of a close friend. Though I trust her, the fewer people that know the truth, the better.”

Madlen nodded.

“Let’s continue to call you Maria. And where do we want to say you’re from?”

“Speyer?” Madlen suggested. “That’s what I told Hedwig.”

“Speyer,” Agathe repeated. “Yes. Maria from Speyer, welcome to your new home.”

Chapter Thirteen

As the days went by, Madlen felt as though she’d never lived anywhere else. She’d never felt so happy and secure. During her first two days, her aunt showed her every corner of Worms; she familiarized Madlen with the peculiarities of the Jewish Quarter and introduced her to her business colleagues. Madlen knew that Agathe had worked many years as a seamstress and she asked many questions about her sewing skills. Agathe did not live on what she’d inherited after Reinhard’s death. She’d built up her dressmaking business and made a small fortune. Her aunt was famous in Worms and beloved by all; everyone seemed to have a friendly word for her. Madlen was taken in with similar heartfelt warmth as Agathe introduced her as the daughter of a friend. She often mentioned that she herself had always wanted a daughter. Madlen didn’t dare ask why Agathe and Reinhard had never had children. She had no desire to open up old and probably still tender wounds. When Madlen told her aunt on the first night how she had helped Clara with her midwifery work, Madlen thought that she noticed a bit of sadness in Agathe’s eyes. Now that she was being introduced as the daughter Agathe never had, Madlen realized how much her aunt’s unfulfilled dreams of having her own brood must have hurt.

“Will you show me how to sew dresses?” The women strolled side by side along the open stalls of the marketplace.

“You want to learn how to sew?”

“The women who wear your dresses seem so happy. It’s a wonderful profession.”

“Well, being a healer, from what you’ve told me, seems to be much more important.”

Madlen waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, what do I really know about healing?”

Agathe hooked her arm in Madlen’s, swinging her wicker basket in the other. “Certainly, nobody would have asked for your help if you didn’t know what you were doing.”

“I couldn’t save that baby,” Madlen said sadly.

“Even the best healer in the world can’t bring the dead back to life.” Agathe sighed. “But you were successful in saving the mother’s life.” She raised her hand when she realized that Madlen was going to object. “Even though it ended badly because that coward murdered her, you should still be proud that you helped her.”

“Thank you. It does me good to hear you say that.” Madlen stopped. “I’ve often wondered why all this happened to me. Please believe me, I only ever wanted to help.”

Agathe looked at her sympathetically. “I would advise you not to ask yourself such questions. You’ll never really find an answer.”

“But it’s so hard. Sometimes I feel so persecuted, and I don’t know why.”

“There’s much that we don’t understand, but in the end it will all make sense.”

Madlen couldn’t quite accept her explanation, but she was thankful that her aunt tried to encourage her.

“Let’s go.” Agathe pulled Madlen along as they strolled past the marketplace stalls. “We’ll go home, and I will teach you how to make a fine dress.”

Madlen smiled. She wondered whether Agathe had a painful experience sometime in her past. She had a feeling that something terrible had happened besides Agathe’s husband dying much too early. Still, she didn’t dare ask for fear of offending her or, even worse, making her dwell on a tragic event. But Madlen hoped that one of these days she would know what it was that made Agathe the thoughtful, loving woman she was today.

It had taken her two days to sew together the two pieces of linen that would make up her first dress. Madlen sewed every single seam with pride. Of course, she wasn’t as good as Agathe, but she would be one of these days.

“You should be very proud of yourself,” her aunt said in praise. “I’m sure that your customer will be very satisfied.”

“My customer?”

“Indeed. The dress has already been sold to a fine noblewoman. She chose the fabric weeks ago. And look what a fine job you did with the beadwork. A genuinely wonderful garment.”

“Thank you.” Overjoyed, Madlen hugged her aunt. “I’ll sew the seams on the next dress even straighter.”

“That’s right. Never be content with what you’ve already done. Always seek improvement with every stitch.”

“I can promise you that I will.”

Agathe smiled, but suddenly a coughing fit shook her body. Madlen patted her on the back. “Are you all right?” She looked on with concern.

“I’m all right,” her aunt uttered, though somewhat distressed. “It happens every now and again.” Agathe laid her hand on her chest. “Especially in the evening. My chest feels so heavy sometimes I can barely breathe.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“For quite a while. I don’t know exactly when it started.”

“Has it gotten worse?”

“Sometimes it’s worse and sometimes it’s better. But don’t worry. I’m not really that sick.”

Madlen felt her aunt’s forehead, a worried look on her face. “You’re burning up, Agathe. You should lie down.”

“Thank you, but I have too much to do right now. These dresses won’t finish themselves.”

“Will you allow me to put my ear on your chest?”

“I don’t see why, but yes.” Agathe spread out her arms and Madlen came closer, wrapping one arm around Agathe’s waist and putting her ear on her chest to listen. She stayed that way for a while, until Madlen sat back up again.

“Agathe, you need to lie down. I hear a strange sound when you breathe.”

Her aunt turned pale. “And what does that mean?”

“Something in your body is preventing you from breathing freely. We have to try and resolve it. How long did you say you’ve had this cough?”

“I think it started shortly before the harvest. It didn’t happen often at first, but now it’s more frequent.”

“I believe that you have some sort of infection.”

Agathe went weak at the knees. “Can something be done about it?”

“Yes, but we must take action right away. I’ll sew the dresses if you lie down. And Roswitha can take care of the herbs with my instructions.”

“I’ll send for her. What should she bring?”

“Above all, we’ll need frankincense.”

“Frankincense? We use that in church at High Mass.”

“There must be a way to get ahold of it. It will take care of the cough. And then we’ll need coltsfoot, a medicinal plant. Its flowers are yellow, and the leaves look like a horse’s hoof.”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

“You can find it near streams or brooks. It blooms in the spring.”

“But in winter you won’t be able to find it, right?” Agathe started coughing again.

Madlen made a decision. “I’m sending Roswitha to bring back some frankincense. I’ll take care of the coltsfoot myself. All you need to do is lie down. The cold winter air will only make your cough worse. Pull your blankets up to your neck to keep your chest warm.”

“All right.” Madlen accompanied Agathe upstairs to her bedchamber. “Tell me the truth. Am I going to die?”

Madlen looked at her seriously. It was hard to give an honest answer. “This is a very serious illness, even though it might not feel like it at the moment. Once the rattling sound starts in the chest, it usually gets worse very quickly.” She pressed her lips together. “But I know my medicinal herbs better than most people. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Thank you, my dear.” Agathe hugged Madlen tightly, then climbed upstairs. Was it because she now knew that the beast lurked in her breast that she took her time, or had climbing those stairs always caused her trouble? As she reached the upper hallway, she gasped and stopped to take a painful breath. Agathe tried to remain calm, but each step she took felt more difficult than the last. She heard Madlen inform Roswitha about the situation and ordered her not to return to the house without the frankincense.

By the time Agathe reached her bed, her heart was pounding against her chest. She’d lost all her strength from one moment to the next. She let herself sink down onto the bed, feeling too weak to even lift her legs so she could lie on the mattress completely. She heard the front door close downstairs.

Now that the house was quiet, she could hear for herself the rattling sound that arose from her chest with each breath. Why had she never noticed that before? Up to now, her cough only bothered her occasionally. But a woman like Agathe rarely heeded a little cough. The thought of her health deteriorating terrified her. Would she die? She wasn’t an old woman yet, but at the age of forty, she wasn’t young anymore, either. Had she spent enough years on this earth to put her life in God’s hands? Was her life really nearing its end? Agathe refused to believe this, but even now, a coughing fit started, this time accompanied by some sort of smelly discharge. She hastily put a handkerchief over her mouth. Agathe braced her upper body so she could at least get a little air. As the cramp in her chest eased off a bit, she sank down powerlessly. She could almost feel death’s bony hand reach out and touch her.

Madlen trotted along the harbor up to the meadow that ran along the Rhine within the city walls. She gazed at the thin layer of frost that shrouded the grass, weeds, and other vegetation. In her mind’s eye, she could see Agathe’s face, which had become more dear and familiar to her each and every day. But the image was juxtaposed with her memory of Clara, who had also treated her with love and kindness. Suddenly, the image of Clara’s dress catching fire flashed into her mind. Madlen shook her head to rid herself of those images. Now this terrible thing with Agathe. Though she couldn’t help Clara, she could do everything in her power to save her dear aunt’s life.

This wasn’t the first time that she had heard the cough now racking Agathe’s body. In Heidelberg, people said that the traveling merchants brought these diseases overland from their travels up and down the river. This was the reason some townsfolk kept their distance. But they only kept their distance from the merchants—people still happily bought their wares, Madlen noted with scorn. She was convinced that these wares contaminated and spread disease, affecting people, food, and drink alike. In Agathe’s case, she wasn’t surprised her aunt got a nasty cough considering the variety of people and goods she was exposed to on a daily basis. She lived right on the harbor, where so many foreign ships moored. Everyone there knew her, and often she bought goods directly from the ships as they unloaded their freight. She also sold her clothes all over town and sometimes beyond, for instance whenever she got an order from a traveling merchant who wanted a dress for his wife. Yes, Agathe was exposed to many contagions. It made it all the more important now to do everything she could to help Agathe fight the infection spreading through her body.

Madlen swept her eyes over the ground, bending down from time to time to determine whether she’d found something she could use. She knew almost all the plants and their medicinal uses. Most of them didn’t help with coughs; however, they were useful for other ailments. Madlen took everything she thought she might be able to use and put it in her basket. Suddenly her heart beat faster. Just a few steps away, she saw a hint of yellow under the frost. She quickened her pace, knelt down, breathed a sigh of relief, and immediately harvested all the coltsfoot she could find. This herb would make Agathe healthy again; Madlen prayed to God that it wasn’t too late.

“Hurry! She’s getting worse.” Roswitha rushed over to Madlen as she entered the house. “Tell me what to do.”

“Put some water on with some milk. We’re going to prepare a brew from herbs and oil and rub it on her chest. She must be kept warm, but we’ll need to wrap ice around her legs, so she won’t get too hot.”

Roswitha nodded quickly. “I’ll get everything together. You’ll prepare the herbs?”

“Yes.”

Both women went their separate ways. Roswitha went to the bedchamber carrying towels; Madlen went into the kitchen to prepare the herbs. Roswitha found her, and Madlen showed her how to prepare the brew that Agathe would have to drink immediately, as much of it as possible. It wasn’t long before the women entered the sick woman’s bedchamber. Agathe lay calmly on her bed, her face ashen.

“Right before you came, she had another violent coughing fit,” Roswitha whispered.

Madlen nodded. “Agathe, can you sit up a little so that you can drink?” She held out her cup of herbal brew.

“That’s so nice of you both. Thank you.” Agathe tried to smile. It was plain to see the coughing spasms had worn her out. With a push, she sat up in bed. Madlen perched next to her and handed her the brew. “It’s hot, so drink it in very small sips. It’ll cure your cough.” Agathe took the drink and immediately began to sip it.

Roswitha left the room briefly then returned with a bowl; it was filled with burning frankincense. She put the vessel next to Agathe’s bed and fanned the incense lightly with her hand.

Madlen waited until Agathe emptied the cup and handed it immediately to Roswitha so she could fill it up again with the herbal brew.

“More?” Agathe asked as she sighed.

“Yes, much more,” Madlen confirmed. “We need to loosen the cough and get the sickness out of your body.” She pulled out a cloth smeared with an herbal paste. “I’ll put this on your chest. Breathe deeply, in and out, until you’re dizzy. I’ll sit here and watch your body. When you get too hot, we’ll lay some cold wraps around your calves. It won’t be pleasant, but it will help you get better.”

Agathe smiled, but worry was written all over her face.

“I know what I’m doing, and I’m going to help you.” Madlen touched Agathe’s hand. She couldn’t say where she found the courage of her conviction but felt it was the truth.

Madlen nursed Agathe late into the night. Even when she wanted to use the outhouse, Madlen insisted that Agathe use a bucket so she wouldn’t have to leave the protective warmth of the room. Roswitha went numerous times to conjure up some fresh brew and to fill up and light the small bowl of frankincense. When it got very late, Madlen noticed that Roswitha seemed about to drop dead from fatigue; she was able to finally persuade her to go to bed. Madlen remained by Agathe’s side, constantly monitoring her care and wondering why she herself didn’t feel the least bit tired. Instead, she wrapped Agathe’s chest again with renewed energy, made sure that her body was warm enough, and supported Agathe when she was overwhelmed by a coughing fit or needed to drink more herbal brew, even though it made her throw up. She’d already vomited twice, and Madlen noticed with satisfaction that the vomit as well as the bile had a pungent odor, typical of infection.