The Cabinet of Curiosities (10 page)

She seemed offended. ‘Of course! I let my father guide me in the ways of the world. He is a wise man.’

Celestina was enchanted by the tiny houses of Golden Lane and shuddered when Lukas pointed out Daliborka Tower. He decided not to tell her about his visit there. It would make him appear foolish. Then they walked out of the East Gate and looked over Prague. ‘It is a most impressive city,’ she said, ‘although not as large as Madrid. I would love to see it properly some time. If my father permits, will you take me?’

Lukas said he often went to buy goods for his uncle, and he would be delighted to accompany her.

As they parted company she leaned towards him and said, ‘The Cabinet of Curiosities – this I would love to know more about!’ She took his arm and squeezed it. ‘You must tell me, Master Declercq,’ she whispered, anxious that Perpetua would not overhear. ‘You might even take me there? Perhaps just the two of us.’

Lukas was thrilled by the idea of doing something so illicit with Celestina. But a venture like that would have to be planned very carefully.

.

Chapter Seventeen

The next time Lukas went to the Three Violins he was curious to see Hlava sitting with Strom and his gang. He was most generous, buying pitchers of beer, telling them he’d had a run of good fortune in a card game. Later in the evening he called for everyone to huddle close to hear something to their advantage.

‘I have a great opportunity to make some money, for me and for you.’ They all leaned closer. Hlava explained that he intended to pose as an alchemist and invite a wealthy crowd to watch him turn their coins into gold. Lukas thought it was a fine idea. He was beginning to appreciate what Etienne had always known. People were gullible – even clever, wealthy ones.

‘And you, Lukas, shall be an essential part of this,’ said Hlava. ‘We need you, to ensure it will succeed.’

Lukas’s amusement turned to alarm. He enjoyed being a spectator to their misdeeds, but not a participant. Besides, this was too public. There were so many things that could go wrong. As he muttered his reservations he sensed a rising hostility around the table, so he assured them he would consider the idea, which seemed to mollify them. He was relieved when the conversation turned to a spate of burglaries in the mansions around the Castle. ‘The price you can get for a couple of candlesticks, especially in the New Town!’ said Oldrich. ‘Enough to keep you drunk for a week.’

‘But you have to be careful of the market,’ said Dusan. ‘The lords and ladies, they come round the stalls with the constables, looking for their belongings. You have to pick your moment to sell, or you’ll find yourself with a hot iron through your tongue.’ That was one of the punishments for robbery.

That seemed unlikely though. To go by their boasts, Etienne’s mates were never caught. Lukas fleetingly wondered again if he could steal something too. It was difficult living on the apprentice wage his uncle gave him. He would like to buy new clothes. And it would be good to splash his money around with these men. It would make him feel like a grown-up – instead of the little brother they deigned to tolerate.

‘I’ll tell you what makes the most,’ said Radek. ‘A nice shiny timepiece. I had one you could pick up with one hand. Beautiful. Chimed on the hour. That paid the rent for a month. And I ate meat every day.’

Dusan nodded. ‘Timepieces, they’re the future. The smaller the better. I’ve seen one the size of an egg. All gold it was, and complicated, like a Chinese puzzle. That would fetch a pretty penny. Imagine that. Something that does the job of the town hall clock and it fits in the palm of your hand.’

‘Nothing sells quicker than a timepiece,’ said Oldrich. ‘Mantelpiece to customer in a couple of hours.’

When Lukas left, Etienne walked along the riverside with him, back to the great bridge. ‘Don’t steal anything from the palace and bring it to that lot,’ he advised. ‘I could tell you’re tempted.’ He laughed. ‘I can see it in your face.’

‘But if you do take something,’ he went on boldly, ‘just come to me. I’d be happy to help you get a good price. Strom and his mob are useful people to know, but you have to be careful with them. Don’t go thinking they’ll treat you fairly.’

He let what he had said sink in, then laughed again. ‘We could make some real money here. Not just a few pfennigs telling fortunes.’

Lukas remembered the conversation they’d had soon after they first met, when Etienne had agreed to travel with him to Prague. He’d let Lukas know he expected favours in return – maybe this was one of them.

Lukas tried to steer the conversation in a new direction. ‘And what do you think about Hlava’s scheme?’ he said, but Etienne just shrugged, then bade him farewell.

He walked home alone, hoping it would come to nothing. But now he had heard the details, how could he drop out?

Back at the Castle, Lukas was too restless to sleep. What Dusan and Oldrich had said about timepieces had caught his imagination. The Cabinet of Curiosities was full of them, from extraordinary marble and brass ones that would dominate a room to tiny ones no bigger than stag beetles, ticking away the seconds of the day inside their shiny golden coats.

Anselmus had told him Emperor Rudolph was especially fascinated by timepieces. He employed a whole workshop of horologists. Sometimes he joined them at their workbenches, to squint though a magnifying glass and assemble the minute mechanisms. He would spend hours lost in wonder, trying to match the perfection of his craftsmen.

Despite the Emperor’s moods, Lukas admired him. He liked the way he would sit among his humble artisans and try to learn their skills. He had a Christian modesty about him that was appealing in an all-powerful ruler. But that didn’t stop Lukas wondering if he could steal something from him and sell it.

.

Lukas didn’t go back to the Three Violins for a week after that. He sensed he was teetering on the brink of something disastrous and he knew he should resist. But he felt so restless during his evenings at the Castle. He spent most of the day with his uncle, and at night they rarely did anything other than read or play chess. Eventually, the lure of the Three Violins was too strong. Lukas convinced himself that if he was careful everything would be fine. They were seasoned crooks, these people. They would be careful too.

They welcomed him back like an old friend, but much to his dismay Hlava joined them soon afterward. He ordered beer for them all, then beckoned them to gather round.

‘Our enterprise is close to fruition,’ he said in a low voice. ‘Word has gone out to the wealthier streets of Prague, among the alchemists of Golden Lane and natural philosophers of the University, that an alchemist from the far reaches of Astrakhan has come to demonstrate his art and search for a patron. A room has been hired in one of the more respectable taverns.’

They all listened intently, trying not to miss a word among the hubbub of the tavern. Then Hlava turned his gaze to Lukas. ‘You, my young friend, you have a central role in this venture. I hope you will not disappoint me and your friends.’

Lukas’s stomach turned over. They were all staring at him, their faces a mixture of hope and suspicion. ‘You’re not a spy, are you?’ said Hlava, with a twinkle in his eye. ‘A spy for the city constables, sent to inform on the more “enterprising” citizens of our city.’

Hlava was teasing him, but some of them began to look suspicious. This was an idea that had to be swiftly crushed.

‘I’ll do it,’ said Lukas quietly. ‘Who would not want to earn that kind of money in an afternoon?’

They all clapped him on the shoulder. Even Oldrich bought him a beer. Lukas tried to put his worries out of his mind and told himself this was the price he had to pay for their company. Sometimes he wondered if they only let him sit with them because they thought he would be useful to them one day. Well, he would do this and prove it. Besides, Lukas told himself, he was so much better off than they were. His life was quite luxurious compared to their daily grind of villainy and ale. Why should he not help them make a few crowns?

.

Barely a day after Lukas had committed himself, Anselmus mentioned he had heard that an alchemist from Astrakhan was visiting the city to demonstrate his skills. ‘I shall have to go, of course. If he is as capable as he says, then I shall recommend him to the Emperor.’

Lukas nearly choked on his soup. ‘But, Uncle, he sounds like one of those charlatans you told me about. Surely you will be wasting your time?’

Anselmus shrugged. ‘Maybe so. But Ruzicka has told me he will be there. And if the Emperor’s chief alchemist feels it is worth attending, it’s not for me to look down my nose. Besides, my fellow physicians Tesarik and Vrzala will be there too. I really ought to go.’

Lukas had foolishly assumed his uncle would be too worldly-wise to be interested in a prank like this, and certainly too important to visit a town tavern to witness a demonstration. He felt awkward about letting his friends down, but it was the perfect excuse to get out of it.

The next time they were all in the Three Violins he gathered his courage. ‘I’ve heard people from the Castle are coming. I can’t do it – they’ll know me.’ There were angry noises around the table. Karel took out his knife and began to clean his nails.

‘I’ll tell you how to make an easy penny,’ said Oldrich abruptly.

Lukas breathed out again, relieved that they were talking about something else.

‘The University, the school of anatomy, pays twenty crowns a corpse. If you poke around the South Gate first thing on a cold morning, there’s usually an old beggar died in the night. But you can’t just march in with the stiff and plonk him down on the counter. You have to know the right people.’

Karel spoke up. ‘They don’t pay twenty for an old beggar. You get ten if you’re lucky.’ Then he looked straight at Lukas. ‘To get twenty you have to bring them something fresh. Something . . . young.’

Lukas didn’t know whether they were being serious, but a sliver of fear ran through his guts. He wanted to leave that instant and never come back. He looked at his glass of beer. It was almost full. Intuition told him not to rush out. Besides, at that moment he felt too frightened to move, let alone swallow anything.

Hlava put a friendly hand on his shoulder and dismissed his concerns with a reassuring smile. ‘You have ideas above your station, young Lukas. No one takes any notice of a humble stable boy. Besides, in the demonstration you will be invisible to all,’ he said. ‘There will be no problems.’

It was too late to stop now. They were determined to carry it through and Lukas was a crucial part of it. There was a lot of money to be made, Hlava had promised them. Lukas had to play his role to perfection. If he let them down, he didn’t like to think about what would happen to him.

.

Chapter Eighteen

‘She’s been babbling again,’ said Anselmus the following evening. ‘Babbling about the neighbours stealing things from her house. She’s convinced someone has broken in and been moving her possessions about. I knew I should have insisted she come to live with me. She’s not safe on her own, especially with her bad eyes. And that place she lives in is such a hovel.’

‘At least it’s warm,’ said Lukas, who was finding it hard to keep his thoughts away from Hlava’s forthcoming demonstration, which was now only three days away. His Auntie Elfriede was the least of his worries.

During breakfast the next day a note arrived from Dorantes, asking Anselmus if he could spare Lukas that morning to show Celestina and Perpetua around the city. ‘You may go, of course,’ said Anselmus, ‘but I would like you to visit your aunt on the way, to take her some bread and see if she is well.’

Lukas couldn’t believe his bad luck.

‘Tidy yourself up a little too,’ said Anselmus.

Lukas asked his uncle if he could have a bath and Otka boiled up some water. But when he came to dress, Lukas was perturbed to discover that none of his clothes were clean. They were all ingrained with dirt and sweat. Just recently he had neglected his laundry. He had so few clothes he grew tired of constantly washing them. When he asked if Otka could clean them, Anselmus told him frostily that she had quite enough to do already.

‘I need some more clothes, Uncle,’ he said truculently.

‘Then you shall have to buy some,’ said Anselmus tartly.

There was one tunic in his clothes chest which was just about presentable. It was a little threadbare, and had a hole in the elbow, but it would have to do.

Lukas arrived at the Doranteses’ quarters clutching a loaf of bread. Celestina said she did not mind making a diversion into Prague by way of his aunt, but she did refer to him teasingly as ‘the delivery boy’.

She also noticed the hole in his tunic. At first she hinted that Perpetua might like to mend it, but her maid gave her such a poisonous look she dropped the idea at once.

‘Perhaps we will find a tunic for you in the city,’ she suggested.

Lukas felt mortified. He had no money. ‘My uncle disapproves of me spending money on clothes,’ he lied.

Perpetua and Celestina exchanged surprised glances.

‘Then I shall treat you,’ she said. ‘To thank you for showing us the city.’

When they reached Elfriede’s house she peered from the door with her usual sour suspicion. Marushka emerged between her black skirts and mewled pitifully. The girls both stood back and crossed themselves.

Lukas handed over the loaf and enquired whether Elfriede was well. She looked towards Celestina and Perpetua and asked him if he was courting. Lukas squirmed with embarrassment, but neither of them was listening. They were talking rapidly to each other in Spanish. He said a hasty goodbye.

As they walked towards the Stone Bridge the girls started sniggering. Lukas felt excluded from their joke and asked Celestina what was so funny. She looked bashful. ‘Perpetua –’ she raised her eyebrows and tried to sound affronted – ‘thinks your auntie looks like a witch! I’ve told her not to be so disrespectful!’

Lukas grew more despondent when they crossed the Vltava and into the Old Town, where the stench and filth of the narrow streets caused the girls to wrinkle their noses in distaste. Celestina said she was glad she had not brought her dog.

Lukas sulked and wondered what she had expected to encounter outside the Castle walls. When they arrived at the magnificent church of Our Lady before Tyn, the twin towers failed to elicit more than polite appreciation. ‘We have much better churches in Madrid,’ said Celestina. But they were both fascinated by the Town Hall’s Astronomical Clock.

‘Now, this we have nothing like,’ said Celestina. Lukas took this as an opportunity to impress her with his knowledge and explained how the great golden dials and numerals showed the orbits of the Sun and Moon around the Earth and the signs of the Zodiac, and the varying lengths of night and day as the seasons changed. He was starting to explain that the numerals around the rim of the clock represented Old Bohemian, Present Day and Babylonian Time, when she began to talk to Perpetua in rapid Spanish and they both pointed and giggled at a tiny dog being carried by an elderly lady. She stopped to let them pet it, and Lukas realised they were no longer listening to him.

Celestina hadn’t entirely lost interest. ‘It is pleasing to know the clock shows the natural order of the heavens,’ she said to Lukas, who was eager to be included in the conversation again.

‘There are many learned men at the palace, such as my uncle and Doktor Grunewald, who believe the sun is in fact at the centre of the heavens, and not the Earth,’ he said.

Celestina shook her head sadly. ‘It distresses me that such learned men can hold views contrary to the Holy Scriptures.’

Lukas didn’t have a strong opinion either way so he let the matter drop.

They seemed to be enjoying themselves a little more now and watched in queasy fascination as a young man had a tooth drawn by a street surgeon. Then they were entertained by a hurdy-gurdy player, accompanied by a small monkey who went among the crowd collecting coins.

What they enjoyed most were the market stalls in the square. Perpetua bought some cheese and fruit, and both of them admired a selection of velvet and lace fabrics. ‘I will make you a tunic,’ said Celestina, and asked Lucas to choose a colour. He was embarrassed, but felt it would be rude to refuse and picked a dark blue velvet. They both approved of his good taste.

Loaded down with their purchases they returned to the Castle. The girls were in a buoyant mood and both of them curtsied as they thanked Lukas for a most enjoyable excursion. While Perpetua hurried up the stairs with their provisions, Celestina turned to look him straight in the eye and said, ‘I shall send your tunic round as soon as I have finished it.’

Lukas felt pleased with himself. He wondered what he might be able to give Celestina in return.

.

Later that afternoon Anselmus announced he was to pay another visit to the Cabinet and asked Lukas if he would like to come. Lukas leaped at the chance. Back in the great chamber he let his eyes wander around the tables while Anselmus left him to search for a particular set of Chinese porcelain in the room next door. Just the day before, a trader had arrived with a beautiful luminous white vase, a dragon painted exquisitely on the side. What had fascinated Anselmus was that the dragon was depicted with fur and spots – like a leopard but with a lion-like mane.

‘Dragons are a great fascination for the Emperor,’ he said, raising his voice so Lukas could still hear him from the next room, ‘and for myself too. They are reported in many civilisations other than our own – from Asia Minor, and even as far as the islands of Japan. Agamemnon knew of them. They occur in the Bible from Job to Revelation. Yet they do not seem to live now. This depiction is particularly interesting, for most dragons are shown as scaly, lizard-like creatures. I think the Emperor will be keen to acquire the vase. It will be something to show him when he returns from his country estate.’

Lukas smiled. He suspected that Anselmus wanted the vase too – and why not? Why should his uncle not also gain pleasure from collecting what he desired? As he thought this his eye alighted on a small silver pomander – made to be worn on a ribbon around the neck. It was shaped like an orange, and when Lukas picked it up he discovered it opened into hinged segments filled with sweet-smelling lavender. Some of the lavender fell on to the table and he hastily closed it again. In an instant he realised it would make a beautiful gift to win the favour of Celestina, or it might be something that he and Etienne could sell for a hefty fee. How wonderful it would be to have a little spare money to buy some fine breeches to go with the new tunic Celestina was making him.

He slipped it into his pocket and wandered off to look at a bizarre painting propped against the wall, showing sinister figures with human bodies and frog faces emerging from a river to seize a young woman sheltering under the shade of a tree.

Guiltily looking back at where the pomander had been, he noticed again the grains of lavender on the table. He began to tremble a little and knew at once he had to put the item back exactly where he’d found it.

Just as he slipped it back into place his uncle returned. ‘Come now, Lukas, we must away. There are herbal remedies to prepare, and Doktor Grunewald and his assistants are coming to dine with us.’

As they passed one of the tables, Anselmus pointed to a beautiful polished agate bowl and said, ‘Look, there’s the Holy Grail! Well, that’s what some say it is.’ He clearly didn’t think so. Lukas looked at it and saw it had a distinctive pattern in the stone that could be taken for writing, but he was not paying attention any more.

They walked out of the rooms and Anselmus locked the door behind him. ‘You look troubled, my lad,’ he said.

Lukas was flustered and began to blush. He was covered in a thin film of sweat. ‘It is a picture I saw in the Cabinet, Uncle,’ he lied. ‘A painting showing the tortures of the damned. It is most distressing.’

Anselmus ruffled his hair. ‘But you’re a good boy, so I’ll not have you worrying about eternal damnation. You
are
a good boy, aren’t you?’ he teased.

‘Yes, Uncle,’ said Lukas, trying his best to feel convinced.