She’d wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, then followed the others out into the damp and gloomy streets.
In the last light of day, Magdalena caught sight of the massive wooden pilings that supported the magnificent Sees Bridge. The posts stood on islands of gravel surrounded by dark, swirling water. At the first piling they came to, there was a long rowboat rocking in the gurgling stream with someone standing in the boat, waving for them to get in.
“It’s lucky for us that Answin is out on the north branch of the river today,” Bartholomäus said, waving to the old ragpicker. “I told Aloysius to let him know we needed his boat.”
“Answin?” Simon asked hesitantly. “Isn’t he that corpse collector you were talking about?”
Bartholomäus nodded. “Exactly. But I can put your mind to rest-there are no other passengers in the boat at the moment-at least no dead ones, if that’s what you were thinking.”
Answin threw them a rope from the boat, and Jakob and Bartholomäus pulled it ashore. One by one they stepped over the side and took their seats in the boat.
“What a lovely bunch you’ve put together, Bartholomäus,” said Answin, smirking at his new passengers. “A cripple, a giant, a dwarf, a wench, and a scaredy-cat. Are you going to the circus?”
“Who’s the dwarf?” Simon whispered in Magdalena’s ear. “Does he mean-” But Bartholomäus quickly replied, cutting him off.
“You can’t always pick your comrades-in-arms,” the executioner replied with a grin. “Anyway, each one of them is better than a drunken city guard.” Then he continued in a serious tone. “We’re looking for my future father-in-law and my niece. If you can help me today, I’ll be indebted to you.”
Answin waved him off. “Just invite me to your wedding, that will be enough. And when you have time, tell me what the hell is going on here.”
“We’ll have plenty of time for that as we head upriver,” Bartholomäus replied. “Now cast off-we’re on our way to Wunderburg.”
They had to row against the current, but in November it was not very strong. Besides, Jakob, Bartholomäus, and the bull-necked Answin were all strong rowers, moving them along with vigorous strokes toward their destination.
Bartholomäus briefly told Answin, in words interrupted by vigorous tugs on the oars, where they were going and what they planned to do. Magdalena looked out at the rain-soaked countryside slowly disappearing in the fading light of day. As soon as they passed the city walls, the area turned swampy, traversed by many little canals, pools, and streams through the peat bogs. The fog-enshrouded Bamberg Forest extended down to the river, with willows and misshapen birches reaching out greedily toward the water. From far off came the mournful howl of a lone wolf, and instinctively Magdalena cringed.
On their way to the Sees Bridge, Magdalena and Bartholomäus had told the others about their discovery of the baboon that had broken out of its pen. They felt reassured now that there was no actual werewolf prowling around, but that didn’t make the locale any less sinister.
And the most evil animal is still man, Magdalena thought.
After a while, they turned into a small tributary almost completely concealed in the reeds. Low-hanging branches brushed against Magdalena’s face. Now it was so dark that even the trees on the nearby shore were visible only as dark outlines. Just the same, Answin seemed to know exactly where he was headed.
“There used to be a little dock here, when Wunderburg was still a suburb,” he said in a soft voice, “but since the war, the forest has slowly reclaimed the area. But this is still the best way to approach the old hunting cabin. Aha!” He stopped short and pointed ahead into the darkness with his oar. “It seems we’re not the first to take a trip here today.”
Magdalena squinted and now saw another boat tied up at the shore. Answin steered his boat right alongside, and everyone got out. Bartholomäus limped over to the other boat.
“Just look here,” he mumbled after a quick inspection. He held up his right hand and rubbed his fingers together. “There’s blood on the boat box.” He cautiously opened the box and stuck his head in for a look. “Here, inside, as well. I’d say we’re on the right track.”
Magdalena heard a soft grinding sound, and it took a while before she realized it was her father, standing right next to her, grinding his teeth.
“I’ll kill him,” he whispered under his breath. “Very, very slowly. And it will hurt very, very much.”
“But I don’t think our werewolf killed his prisoners here in the boat,” Jeremias said, apparently having heard Jakob’s whispered words. By now he was more or less sober again. “That isn’t the way he’s been going about it. He wants to torture them slowly, just the way I tortured his relatives back then. We can only hope he hasn’t gotten that far yet.”
Magdalena felt like she would vomit. What, in God’s name, was that madman doing with her sister?
“Then let’s not waste any time,” she said, looking around. “Where is this damned hunting lodge?”
Bartholomäus pointed to a narrow deer path leading into the forest. “It’s not far now. We’ll have to keep quiet if we want to surprise the fellow.”
“I’ll stand here by the boat and wait for you,” Answin said. “Forgive me, but I have a wife and five hungry young mouths to feed, and they need their father to come back home alive. Besides. .” He hesitated for a moment. “Well, there are stories going around about this house that I don’t like. It’s said the master of the hunt back then was a bad character-he had his own way of dealing with poachers. Some of them vanished and were never seen again. So watch out that the same doesn’t happen to you.”
Bartholomäus nodded. “Thanks, Answin, we’ll take care of ourselves. Just one last favor, please. If you hear me shouting, then something has gone wrong. Please alert the city guards.”
“We should have done that before,” Simon replied gloomily, “but once again, no one wanted to listen to me.”
“Exactly. So let’s go.” Jakob took the lead, and the others followed him into the dense forest.
As soon as they were under the tree cover, Magdalena could hardly see her hand in front of her face. The rain came pouring down. Nevertheless, she had refrained from lighting the lantern so as not to alert Markus Salter any sooner than necessary. After a while the undergrowth disappeared, and they entered a part of the forest with tall-standing firs and scattered birches, and the view improved. Somewhere an owl hooted, but otherwise all they heard was the sound of the pouring rain and their own steps through the damp, moldy leaves. Repeatedly they had to find a way around swampy pools of water.
They had made their way perhaps a stone’s throw or two from the river when Jakob suddenly stopped and pointed ahead of them through the trees, where the outlines of a large building surrounded by a low wall became visible.
“Is that it?” he whispered to his brother, who had come up from behind.
Bartholomäus spat on the ground. “That’s it. It looks dark in the house, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. There are a few cellar rooms whose windows were all boarded up long ago. Let’s sneak up a little closer and perhaps we’ll be able to see something else.”
“I’ve seen enough,” Jakob hissed. “My Barbara is in there, so I’m going to get her and bring her out.”
“Father,” said Georg softly, having approached from behind without their noticing, “it doesn’t make sense for you to just go bursting in. Salter could hold Barbara hostage or even kill her. So let’s see if there isn’t some way we can get in without being noticed.”
Jakob grunted, which was apparently tantamount to a concession. They passed through a rusty gate in the crumbling wall, then crept toward a large thornbush just a few steps from the building.