Simon rarely came here, preferring the cheap saloons in the area behind the Ballenhaus, where the wine and the beer were cheaper but also caused bigger hangovers in the morning. He loved it when one of the journeymen or apprentices picked up a fiddle and started to play while the other guests stamped their feet and the girls’ skirts whirled around. Here at Semer’s Tavern, things were much more civilized. At the table next to them, two merchants were talking in hushed tones about their recent sales, and farther back, the alderman Johann Püchner tried flirting with one of the servers by inviting her to join him for a glass of wine. The perky young woman put a glass of the best Alsace wine down in front of him, then disappeared into the kitchen, giggling.
Until that moment, Benedikta had refrained from asking questions, dabbing away now and then at the blood beneath Simon’s nose. She appeared lost in thought as she nipped on her cup of diluted wine and, like Simon, seemed to be carefully observing the other guests. Finally, she turned and spoke to him.
“I have decided to stay in Schongau for a few more days. My manager can handle the business in Landsberg just as well as I can, and besides, I was able to make some good contacts today with a few wine merchants from Augsburg.” She sighed. “But of course it’s primarily my brother that keeps me here. I won’t rest until they catch the damned murderer. Have you been able to learn more about his death?”
Simon hesitated for a moment, then told her about the solution to the riddle, what they had found in the basilica in Altenstadt, and how he planned to search the ruins of the Guelph castle for further clues.
Benedikta’s face darkened. “But what does that all have to do with my brother? It’s not possible that he knew about all these things.”
Simon took a long sip before continuing. “Your brother certainly did not know the entire truth, but he knew about the grave under the church. He told someone about it, and that someone wanted to keep the information to himself.”
“So that no one else would know about it?” Benedikta looked at him in disbelief. “What have you found up to now except a few silly riddles, a joke played by an aging knight?” She shrugged. “Perhaps this Wildgraf was just a man with a sense of humor and all you’ll find in the castle ruins is a coarse rhyme about how nosy some people are.”
Simon shook his head. “The Templars didn’t think that way. They were an order of knights that combined the virtues of a Christian life and knighthood; they didn’t go around tricking people. The first riddle comes from the Revelation of Saint John, and the second refers to an ancient noble family, the Guelphs. It can’t be an accident. It almost looks as if our dead knight wanted to test us to see if we were worthy. Clearly, he was looking for men who were well versed both in the Bible and in the life of the nobility. Templars…” He hesitated, then stopped speaking.
“Is something wrong?” Benedikta looked at him and smiled. “Has the wine gone to your head?”
Simon shook his head, then pulled out the little guide he had borrowed from Jakob Schreevogl and was still carrying around in his jacket pocket.
He laid it on the table and started leafing through it excitedly.
“What is that?” Benedikta asked, trying to get a glimpse.
“It’s a book about the Templars,” Simon replied, but then he stopped flipping through the pages and sighed. “For a moment, I thought I had remembered something, but I must be mistaken.”
He told Benedikta briefly what he knew about the Templars.
“This Friedrich Wildgraf, who was buried down there in the crypt, was a master of the Order of Teutonic Knights,” he concluded. “According to the contract we saw in Steingaden, he was the commander for the entire German Empire. He was a member of the inner circle of power. But in just a few years, the Templars were pursued and wiped out all over Europe. Their huge fortune, however, vanished…” He looked Benedikta straight in the eye before continuing. “Why would a powerful master of the order pose riddles like this if not to conceal something? First there was the quotation on the sarcophagus, now the clue in the basilica…There must be a reason for all that!”
“Do you think…?”
Simon nodded. “I think Friedrich Wildgraf may have hidden the Templars’ treasure somewhere around here. Or at least a part of it.”
“A treasure?” Benedikta picked up her handkerchief and wiped a few drops of wine from her lips. “Why would the Templars want to hide something in this godforsaken spot, of all places? According to what you have told me, they had headquarters in Paris, in Jerusalem, in Rome! What would lead them to the Priests’ Corner, of all places”-she spat the name out like a piece of rotten fruit-“to bury a treasure in the remotest part of Bavaria?”
Simon pounded his fist on the table. “That’s just the point! Nobody would think to look for the treasure here. The French king probably couldn’t have found the Priests’ Corner on a map, even if the duke had drawn a circle around it. Mountains, forests, swamps, and a few illiterate, but well-mannered peasants-the perfect hiding place!”
Benedikta was silent for a while; then she nodded slowly. “Perhaps you’re right.” Her eyes, so often alert, took on a glassy sheen. “How much do you think…?”
“Money?” Simon shrugged. “It’s hard to say, but in any case, more than we can imagine. Don’t forget, the French king ordered the extermination of the Templars just because of this fortune. Even if only a part of it is here…” He broke off in the middle of his sentence and looked around. “In any case,” he whispered, “we had better be careful. People have been killed for a lot less money.”
“But people have also risked their lives for far less,” Benedikta replied with a wink. “Don’t ever tell a businesswoman about hidden treasures; you’ll have a hard time getting rid of her. In my opinion, we should take this risk,” she said, raising her wine glass. “To your health! A la vôtre!”
“A la vôtre,” replied Simon, and they clinked glasses. This woman from Landsberg surprised him again and again, but she was right: If only a fraction of the Templars’ treasure were buried somewhere in the Priests’ Corner, he would never have to worry about his future again. He would be able to buy crates full of coats, petticoat breeches, new shoes, hats with peacock feathers, a fast horse, and a trunk full of the latest medical instruments. His standing in town would change dramatically, and not only that…Who could forbid him then from marrying the hangman’s daughter? He would build a house for Magdalena and himself! Who knows, maybe they would open an apothecary together in Schongau. He, the physician, and she, the wife, an expert in the healing herbs and poisons in the region-a perfect couple!
He was so absorbed in the joyful anticipation of his future life that he didn’t notice a haggard figure in the back of the tavern standing up and heading toward the door. As the man left the tavern, he exuded a soft aroma like a gentle whiff of spring.
6
MAGDALENA STOOD IN the biting cold in front of the parish church and pulled her woolen shawl tighter around her shoulders. After her visit with the dyer woman, she had wandered aimlessly through the narrow streets. Where could she go? After her angry outburst, Simon would certainly be looking for her at her parents’ house. But even now, after her anger had somewhat subsided, she didn’t want to see him. Perhaps at that very moment he was standing in front of their house in the Tanners’ Quarter and worrying about her. As well he should! How dare he rave to her about this woman! It would be good for him to fret a little. Perhaps it would awaken his guilty conscience. Nobody could treat a Kuisl that way!