“You?” Simon looked at the patrician skeptically. “A councilman serving as a bathhouse surgeon’s helper?”
“I’d rather be doing God’s work in the clinic than running around the church praying,” Schreevogl answered dryly. “And didn’t your wife herself say that caring for the sick is not all that hard? Besides, I’ve even developed a taste for it. It feels… well…” He hesitated, looking for the right word. “It feels useful. At least more so than sitting in a backroom negotiating contracts for the delivery of crockery.”
Simon couldn’t help laughing. “You’re probably right. Caring for the sick is more exciting than that, and I really can use the help.” He held out his hand to the alderman. “Then here’s to our collaboration, my dear bathhouse assistant. Let’s hope this nightmare will soon be over and we can return to Schongau.”
Schreevogl’s smile suddenly faded, and he crossed himself. “Let’s pray together and ask for God’s help. This place indeed harbors more evil than a single monastery can cope with.”
After her father donned his monk’s robe and left hurriedly to look around some more, Magdalena wandered aimlessly with her children through the busy streets in front of the monastery. She alone seemed to have nothing to do and was annoyed Simon had taken off so quickly, even though she realized he was the only one caring for the count’s son. Still she wished he would spend more time with his family.
With a sigh Magdalena let Peter drag her along to one of the many stands displaying pictures of saints, candles, and little rosaries. In the last few days, shops like this had shot up all around the Holy Mountain like mushrooms out of the ground. They sold small hand-size votive tablets for the devotional corner in homes, overpriced glass pictures of the monastery, candles, rosaries, badly printed Bible verses, and little charm necklaces with prayers for divine intercession attached. Magdalena remembered a conversation with Jakob Schreevogl some time ago in which he told her that both the Schongau burgomaster and the count were doing a brisk business with these religious knickknacks, but if the count’s son was really as sick as everyone feared, all this would be for naught for the Wittelsbachs. No one had ever been able to buy off death with money.
Magdalena caught Peter just as he was reaching for a rosary. “For God’s sake, keep your hands off that,” she scolded. “That’s nothing to play with.” When she pulled her elder son away from the stand more roughly than intended, he began to cry, and then the younger boy joined in.
“Father! Where’s Father?” Paul whined. “I want my father and grandfather.”
“I’ve got to disappoint you,” Magdalena snapped. “Those high-and-mighty gentlemen are occupied with more important things now, so you’ll have to settle for your mother.”
When the crying didn’t stop, she reached frantically into her jacket pocket and pulled out a few candied fruits to quiet them down. She continued alongside a flock of pilgrims in gray penitential robes who were singing and praying in the monastery square in preparation for the next mass.
Magdalena clenched her teeth to keep from cursing. She felt so worthless. It seemed that everyone around her had something to do; only she was condemned to care for the children. To make matters worse, she had been feeling ill again all morning but had said nothing to Simon so as not to upset him even more. Secretly she’d examined her tongue in a polished copper dish and was relieved to see no tell-tale grayish-yellow sheen. Whatever was bothering her, then, seemed not to be the nervous fever.
Magdalena was so absorbed in her thoughts that it took her a few moments to notice a hand on her shoulder. Startled, she turned around and found herself looking into the smiling face of Matthias. He rocked his head coquettishly and made a face that caused the children to break out in loud laughter.
Magdalena, too, had to smile. The boys seemed to have really taken a shine to the mute fellow, just as she had, she admitted to herself again.
“Good day, Matthias,” Magdalena said brightly, even though she knew she wouldn’t receive a reply. “What are you doing? Looking for a nice rosary for your sweetheart?” she teased.
Matthias grunted and rolled his eyes, as if to say all women got on his nerves. Magdalena laughed loudly. She loved the silent assistant’s expressions, which reminded her of the magicians who visited Schongau once a year.
“Would you like to go for a walk with me on the meadow behind the monastery?” she asked impulsively. It was still early in the day, the children weren’t tired yet, and she wanted to get away from all the people who stank of incense and frightened her with their excessive humility and fear of God. “Come along, we’ll pick a bouquet of flowers for your girl, if you have one.”
Matthias hesitated briefly, then let out a throaty laugh and took the cheering children onto his broad shoulders. Together they walked through the small north gate, then turned left onto the flowery meadow beside the forest, where the boys chased beetles and dragonflies buzzing around in the tall grass.
Magdalena absent-mindedly picked a few daisies, thinking dolefully, I should give these to Simon, but that’s out of the question.
When she finally looked up again, she found herself a few yards from a wall that was perhaps six feet high. The rough-hewn stones enclosed a small rectangular area directly bordering the forest, with steep cliffs rising up behind it. The entrance was a rusty gate entwined with ivy and secured with a huge lock. Magdalena had started to walk over to the wall when she heard Matthias approach from behind, grunting and shaking his head in warning.
“Is it forbidden to enter?” Magdalena asked curiously. “Why?”
Matthias thought for a while, then tore up a few weeds, smelled them with a pleased expression, then finally pointed to the monastery. “Urbe uf onstry,” he stammered.
“This is the monastery’s herb garden?” Magdalena asked. “Is that what you are trying to say?”
When the mute man nodded, Magdalena shrugged. “And why shouldn’t I go in? Are the priests always so secretive about their healing plants? Let me tell you, Matthias, in Schongau, I’m a midwife, and I probably know more about the herbs in there than all the monks in Andechs together.” She took her children by the hand and led them up to the gate. “Come along, Mama will show you a magic garden.”
Matthias shook his head furiously, but Magdalena’s curiosity had been awakened. If this really was the monastery herb garden, she was interested to see what was growing inside. Perhaps she’d find a few healing plants she didn’t know or were hard to find in the forest.
Magdalena ignored the angry sounds of the knacker’s assistant and turned the handle of the gate. She was happy to see it was not locked and opened with a soft squeak. Scarcely had she stepped inside when she was surrounded by the bewitching fragrances of chamomile, sage, and mint. From inside, the garden seemed much larger than it appeared from the meadow-perhaps due to the many climbing trellises of beans and gourds beside the beds, which turned the garden into a labyrinth. Lizards dozed in the sun on little walls covered with blooming alyssum, which seemed like pleasant places to rest. Inside, small beds of shrubs and herbs were carefully divided according to type. Magdalena recognized the usual healing plants, such as rue, wormwood, and fennel, but discovered other, stranger plants. She rubbed the aromatic leaves of sticklewort and ambrosia between her fingers and smelled the intoxicating, overwhelming fragrance of the iris blossoms.
In the meanwhile, the children were frolicking on the little walls, chasing lizards. Magdalena tried not to lose sight of them. Even if this garden seemed like paradise on earth, she knew that forbidden fruits grew in this paradise as well. Many of the plants here were highly poisonous and used only in small doses for medicinal purposes.
Gradually she moved deeper and deeper into the garden. The mute Matthias hadn’t followed her; evidently something here frightened him, even though she had no idea what. Perhaps he was just respectful of the monks who obviously kept a close eye on their monastery garden.