“The brewer who gave us away?”
“Yes. Unfortunately.”
“And what is all that supposed to mean?” Goddert joined in the argument again, his voice quivering with rage. “What Conrad did was quite right. The patricians looked down on the guilds as if they were a herd of pigs. They taxed us till we bled. The burgomasters were corrupt through and through, the magistrates were guzzling and whoring at the expense of honest people and they twisted the laws to suit themselves. Profiteering, taking bribes, and abusing their office, that’s what the patricians were good at. And some were made magistrates when they were scarcely out of their nappies, like that little thug Daniel. Conrad sat in judgment on them and a good thing, too. I support our archbishop, however much you may say he’s a liar and a murderer.”
“He is a liar and a murderer.”
“So what?” Goddert jumped up, his face bright red. “What are your patricians? Look at me. When did I ever get anything out of my work the patricians didn’t steal?”
“Father—” said Richmodis, trying to calm him down.
“No. Now it’s my turn. They bled us white and they got what was coming to them. I tell you, the time will come when Cologne is run by the guilds. One day we’ll get rid of all those villains on horseback in their expensive robes and furs. We’ll throw them out. Conrad will throw them out so that the guilds can get what they deserve.”
“What they deserve is a kick up the backside,” Jaspar barked back. “Because they’ve sold out.”
“They have not sold out.”
“They haven’t? Damn it all, Goddert, for once you’re right. Yes, the magistrates were corrupt. Yes, they fleeced the people. Yes, yes, yes, it serves the patricians right that they’re getting kicked in the teeth. But don’t you see that the guilds are just an instrument in Conrad’s hand? He doesn’t care who helps him extend his power. Last year he was still trying to reach an accommodation with the patricians. Even after he’d dismissed them from office he promised he would allow the exiles back and God knows what else if they’d sell the city’s privileges. It was only when the patricians dug their heels in that he allied himself with the weavers and other guilds against them. Open your eyes. Conrad’s not the guardian angel of the guilds. He’ll cheat you just as he tricked the patricians.”
“He will dispense justice,” Goddert stated, turning away from Jaspar.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake!” Jaspar groaned. “Here we are, likely to get murdered any minute and I’m arguing about politics with a driveling old soak.”
“Old soak yourself.”
“Yes, but at least from my own wine.”
“You can keep your goddamn wine,” growled Goddert. “I’ve got plenty of my own.”
“Really? Not that I’ve noticed.”
Goddert took a deep breath, thought for a moment, then let it out slowly. “Errrm,” he said.
Jaspar furrowed his brow. “You’re surely not going to suggest we have a drink?”
“All right. Shall we have a drink?”
“Let’s have a drink.”
“No,” said Jacob.
Jaspar stared at him in amazement. “Why ever not?”
“Because you haven’t gotten to the end.”
“Near enough.”
“Nothing you’ve said tells us what the patricians have planned. I’m—I’m still afraid.”
Jaspar blinked, but said nothing for a while. “So am I.” He glanced at Kuno, who was lying on the bench by the fire, his chest faintly rising and falling. “Richmodis,” he said quietly, “you looked into this Urquhart’s eyes. Will he come?”
Richmodis nodded.
“Well, then. Everything bolted and barred, Goddert?”
“With these very hands.”
“Good. We ought to be fairly safe until the morning and then there’ll be enough people out in the streets.” He paused.
“So. The end. At the beginning of the year all hell was let loose in the city. In the church of the White Sisters a butcher mocked a patrician, Bruno Hardefust, because Conrad had removed him from the council of magistrates. There was an argument; Bruno drew his dagger and killed the butcher. It was a spark to a powder keg. The butchers’ guild screamed for vengeance. Hordes gathered at the Hardefust house and set it on fire. Riot, pillage, you name it. Hardefust drummed up a posse of patrician friends and they laid into the craftsmen. Countless wounded, some dead. The magistrates took their time, giving the patricians plenty of opportunity to commit more murders, presumably hoping to increase the seriousness of the charges against them. They only stepped in toward evening and asked Conrad to adjudicate. He had cleverly kept out of it.”
Jaspar gave a grim laugh. “His hour had come. He fined both sides, but in addition he decreed that the patricians were to kneel before him barefoot and beg forgiveness with the whole city looking on. Ha! What a humiliation! Most submitted, if reluctantly, and paraded to the howls of delight of twenty thousand people. Some fled the city; three were captured the same day, dragged back, and beheaded on the spot.”
“I remember,” Goddert almost purred. “It was a day of rejoicing.”
“Then, Fox-cub,” Jaspar went on, unmoved, “in May, shortly before you came back, the patricians brought charges against the new magistrates, demanding they be removed from office. Conrad was diplomatic. He promised justice, convened a hearing, and tried to reach a compromise. But the patricians insisted on a clear verdict. In the meantime the guilds had gathered, armed to the teeth. The patricians responded immediately. Banners unfurled, they marched to the archbishop’s palace because they suspected Conrad—possibly with justification—of inciting the craftsmen against them. They set up two barricades, one in Rheingasse and another outside St. Columba’s. Conrad called out his armed guard and it almost came to a pitched battle. Thank God it didn’t. Conrad sent envoys to the Rheingasse barricade offering an unarmed meeting in the palace to discuss terms and claiming those at the St. Columba barricade had accepted. They used the same ploy at St. Columba’s.”
“Not exactly honest.”
“But it worked. Conrad promised the patricians safe conduct. The patricians, in good faith, appeared unarmed and were immediately fallen upon by Conrad’s men. Twenty-four were arrested and imprisoned, others fled the city. Conrad invited them to a meeting, but of course they weren’t so stupid as to believe him a second time. Nor did he want them to. It gave him a good reason to outlaw them. Which he did, with the pope’s blessing. And that is the situation at the moment.”
Jacob went through it in his mind. A thought occurred to him. “Can the patricians expect Conrad to pardon them?”
Jaspar shook his head. “Unlikely. A few weeks ago I heard that the prisoners in Godesberg Castle had laid their distress before him and begged him to free them. His response was to impose stricter conditions of imprisonment. I believe Conrad receives almost daily pleas from the patricians to pardon those banished or imprisoned, but the failure of the request from those in Godesberg seems to have disheartened them.”