The Cabinet of Curiosities (18 page)

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Chapter Thirty-Four

Anselmus was pleased to receive a late-evening summons to the Emperor’s quarters; it flattered his vanity that Rudolph should ask for him. But the physician was anxious too. Rudolph had been in an especially black mood over the last week. Courtiers who had displeased him had been sent from his presence with a hailstorm of abuse. Anselmus was worried about Lukas too. He’d gone out earlier that day and should have been home by now.

When Anselmus arrived at the Emperor’s quarters, one of the equerries showed him into a small room. The time machine was set up in the middle. The Emperor was there too, sitting on a padded chair, reading the instructions. There were dark rings around his eyes. He looked as if he had not slept for days.

‘My dear Declercq,’ he said wearily, ‘these scribblings are somewhat complex. We should like you to assist us.’

Anselmus set the machine up exactly as the instructions described. He pointed out – trying to keep the scepticism from his voice – that they did state that only one person should be present. The Emperor was uninterested. ‘It is a small room,’ he said impatiently. ‘We are sure it will work in here for you and us, or not work at all.’

So be it, thought Anselmus. It will make no difference.

They waited for the Castle clock to strike midnight and Anselmus wound the handle. It made a satisfying clicking noise – exactly like a large clock mechanism – and after a few seconds the device began to emit a pleasing ringing sound.

They sat there, waiting to see what would happen. After a while Anselmus looked out of the window. As far as he could make out, people still walked across the bridge, and ripples from the river still caught in flickering torchlight. He thought to draw this to Rudolph’s attention, but when he saw how serene the Emperor looked, sitting with his eyes closed and a beatific smile on his face, he didn’t have the heart to tell him.

‘Ah, Declercq,’ said Rudolph sleepily, ‘we have not felt so completely at peace since we were a small child. It pleases us greatly to know that outside these four walls there is nothing happening to threaten our person or the peace of our realm.’

Anselmus nodded, but he was finding it difficult to collect his thoughts. He could feel a thick, muggy headache coming on. He was desperate for a breath of cool night air, but he did not feel it was his place to suggest this to the Emperor. Besides, the instructions clearly stated that windows and doors should be sealed.

Another five minutes passed. Now both of them were drowsy. Anselmus, in fact, felt as though he was at the bottom of the sea. The Emperor slumped back in his chair, his mouth wide open. The last thing Anselmus heard before he lost consciousness was the Castle clock striking the quarter-hour.

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Lukas and his rescuers heard the clock too. They were seated by the road close to the North Gate, straining for breath. As it was after midnight the city gates had been locked until dawn. They found a barn and bedded down.

‘This reminds me too much of that night back in Momalle,’ whispered Lukas to Etienne. Dusan and Radek were both snoring loudly. ‘I hope we don’t get any more visitors.

‘That man you shot when you rescued me,’ he added, as the bizarre details of the night came back to him. ‘I’m sure it was the Grand Inquisitor.’

Etienne didn’t seem surprised. ‘I can’t think of a better alias – the Witchfinder was a witch himself!’ He seemed to admire the man’s deceit.

‘Strom has vanished,’ said Etienne, ‘and Oldrich says Hlava told him to send you down to a house close to the square. What’s going on, Lukas?’

‘Hlava had me sent there?’ exclaimed Lukas. ‘What a fool I was to swallow that story about Jenka!’

‘Why d’you think they wanted to kill you?’ asked Etienne.

Lukas shook his head. ‘I don’t know for certain, but last night I asked Strom if he’d sold something to one of Rudolph’s courtiers. He denied it, but I could tell he had, and he seemed very agitated that I knew. My uncle – Anselmus – he told me he’d bought a strange machine from someone in the town who had tattoos on his face. I thought it sounded like Strom. But why is Hlava mixed up in it too?’

‘What sort of machine?’ said Etienne.

‘Something about time – I can’t quite remember. It sounded ridiculous.’

‘I was there when Hlava came to talk to Strom about selling it,’ said Etienne. ‘He wasn’t interested, but Hlava talked him round. I don’t think it’s a straightforward deception. There’s something odd about that machine.’

Lukas felt sick. ‘If Hlava made it, then I definitely have to warn my uncle,’ he whispered. ‘I found out about it and he tried to have me killed; Strom knew about it and he’s missing. What is it about that thing that’s worth killing your accomplices for? You know about it too,’ he added as an afterthought. ‘Make sure you watch your back with Hlava.’

Etienne shrugged. ‘He trusts me. I’m too valuable to him.’

For a moment Lukas thought Etienne looked a little afraid.

‘I’ve got to get back to the Castle as soon as possible,’ said Lukas. ‘My uncle bought that machine for the Emperor and I think it’s going to get him into terrible trouble.’

As they settled down to sleep Etienne turned and said, ‘I’ve had enough of this life, Lukas. I’m sure Strom’s dead. You nearly ended up with a knife in your throat. Oldrich and Karel betrayed you for a few coins. When this is over, I’m going to start trying to make an honest living on the market.’

What Etienne said troubled Lukas greatly. As he drifted off to sleep he knew in his bones that his friend would find it impossible to get away from the life he had chosen. He was too well known now in the Prague underworld. The merchants would soon get to hear of his reputation. They would not trust him. Only men of bad character would seek out his services.

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Chapter Thirty-Five

The potion that had rendered him unconscious the previous evening still lingered in Lukas’s body and he slept heavily. He woke later than intended and left his companions still snoring. By the time he reached the city gates the morning sun had already brought a warmth to the day. In the square the market was busy with customers.

Lukas ran as fast as he could to the Castle. His uncle rarely left his quarters before ten so Lukas was alarmed to discover he was not at home. He went to Anselmus’s friend Doktor Grunewald’s chambers and banged on his door. Grunewald looked most displeased to see him.

‘What has happened?’ said Lukas. ‘Do you know where my uncle is?’

‘What has happened?’ echoed Grunewald coldly. ‘I’ll put ten gold crowns on your having something to do with it.’

Grunewald used to be so pleasant with him. Lukas supposed Anselmus had confided in his friend when he discovered his nephew had stolen the timepiece from the Cabinet.

Grunewald reluctantly ushered him in. The man looked sick with worry. ‘I was disturbed early this morning – before first light – by cries in the Castle courtyard,’ he said in a clipped, angry voice. ‘I looked out to see several of the guards struggling with Anselmus. Now I hear he has been sent to Daliborka Tower, accused of trying to kill His Excellency. That cannot be true. No one is more devoted to the well-being of the Emperor.’

He looked at Lukas with an accusatory glare. ‘Is this your doing? Is your misbehaviour bringing further grief to your uncle?’

‘He’s accused of plotting to kill the Emperor?’ Lukas could not believe his ears. ‘Your Eminence. I am desperate to assist my uncle as best I can,’ he blurted, ‘but I have only hearsay and supposition to help me –’

‘You have caused enough trouble to last a lifetime,’ interrupted Grunewald.

There was a loud banging at the door. ‘Only the palace guard knock like that,’ said Grunewald. ‘I’m surprised they did not arrest you at the Castle gates. Anselmus’s acquaintances are being questioned. Is it you they seek? I shall be happy to present you to them.’ He turned towards the door.

‘Please,’ Lukas begged, grabbing the physician’s arm. ‘I have information that could help my uncle. If they take me, then I will not be able to do so.’

Grunewald paused and frowned. Then he beckoned Lukas to another room in his quarters. ‘Go quickly into my bedchamber and hide,’ he whispered. ‘When they have gone you must tell me everything.’ Lukas dived under the bed and listened.

He heard the door creak open. ‘Your Eminence,’ said a commanding voice, ‘we search for Lukas Declercq, apprentice to the assassin Anselmus Declercq. Do you know of his whereabouts?’

Grunewald shook his head and assured the guards he would let them know if he saw the boy. Lukas heard the door close and the physician came at once to the bedroom.

‘Now tell me what you know,’ he said brusquely.

Lukas’s head was spinning. ‘I know of people in the taverns,’ he said, ‘who have sold Anselmus a strange machine. I think this machine might have caused the trouble.’

‘These people – did you tell them about your uncle?’ Grunewald was simmering with suppressed anger.

‘No! Never!’ Now Lukas was angry. ‘I have done selfish, stupid things, but I would never betray my uncle. I knew nothing of this until it was too late to warn him,’ he pleaded. ‘This has nothing to do with me and I need to find out more. What can I do? I’ve got to get my uncle out of the tower.’

‘For now, I choose to believe you,’ said Grunewald. ‘Who sold the machine to your uncle?’

‘Strom, he’s called, but I think he’s dead. I’m sure the man who made it murdered him. His name is Hrusosky Hlava.’

Grunewald looked appalled. ‘And how do you know such people?’

‘I go to a tavern in Mala Strana. I overhear things.’

‘You must find this man Hlava and bring his whereabouts to the attention of the guards. Perhaps this will help your uncle,’ said Grunewald. ‘I have done what I could. I went at first light to the tower. When they would not let me see Anselmus, I protested until the officer of the watch accused me of being an accomplice. He even threatened to arrest me. Everyone is certain something terrible has occurred. Now you must go. If you are found here, my life will be ruined.’

‘But I won’t make it past the guards,’ pleaded Lukas.

‘Come,’ said Grunewald, grabbing a bunch of keys and a small lantern. ‘I will help you get out of the Castle.’

They hurried out. Instead of taking the main stairway, which led out into the square behind the Cathedral, Grunewald took Lukas down a narrow staircase at the rear of the building. Thin arrow strips let in light and air for the first fifty or sixty steps, but these stopped as the staircase continued below ground. It rapidly became too dark to see ahead, and Grunewald began to fumble with his firebox, striking sparks to light his lantern candle.

A strong smell of damp and mould wafted up from below. ‘Quickly,’ urged Grunewald, who was already out of breath, as they continued their descent into the bowels of the building. ‘There is a tunnel down here, recently built, which takes floodwater away from the Castle. You can follow it down to the banks of the Vltava.’

They had reached a large vaulted chamber with a slippery flagstone floor. Lukas could not tell how tall the room was as the light from the candle was too dim to reach the ceiling. At the far end was the entrance to a tunnel. From what little Lukas could see in the dim light, the brickwork was new and of a high standard. It was a good size; only the tallest man would not be able to stand upright.

‘I am sorry, but you will have to make the journey without light,’ said Grunewald. ‘I need my lantern to return to the staircase.’

He patted Lukas on the shoulder and gave him a handful of gold and silver crowns from his purse. ‘Prove to me you have some worth, Lukas. I wish you luck.’

Grunewald dashed off towards the stairwell. The lantern light receded until Lukas was in complete darkness. As Grunewald’s footsteps faded he was left in eerie silence, save for the occasional dripping of water and the squeaking and scurrying of rats.

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At his house near the Old Town Square, Hlava went through the events of the last few days in his mind, too restless to settle. When Strom told him that the boy Lukas had realised it was he who had sold the machine to the palace, he knew they both had to go. Monsignor Mach had agreed to dispose of Lukas. He seemed to find the whole business quite amusing. Hlava wondered what sort of fate the Inquisitor had arranged for the boy. He hoped he had done a proper job.

Then there was Etienne. Hlava had tried to enlist him in the plot. That had been careless of him. He should have approached Strom alone. If the scheme to kill the Emperor succeeded, there would be an almighty upheaval. There would be arrests and torture and who knows what would come out. Etienne would have to go too. It was a shame. He was a clever boy.

Now some fool messenger had come from the Spaniards demanding an urgent meeting. He did not say what had happened, but he was deeply agitated – enough to make Hlava suspect something had gone wrong. How many of
them
would he have to silence to prevent anyone betraying him under torture? This was all becoming very untidy.

He hurried to the Three Violins. He had to recruit someone to help him, and he thought Oldrich and Karel would be best. They’d done enough of his dirty work over the years. If the price was right they’d betray their own mothers. They’d certainly know where to find Etienne.

He hurried over. They were there in the tavern. He’d given them enough money to keep them drunk for a week when he’d got them to send Lukas off to ‘Jenka’s’ house.

Unfortunately for Hlava, Dusan and Radek were there too. He saw them all sitting at a table and immediately turned around before they noticed him. From what he could see, the two big men were very angry. Oldrich and Karel looked terrified. Hlava knew it in his bones – they had found out about him sending Lukas to his death. Hlava suspected his two accomplices might end the day floating face down in the Vltava.

As he hurried back to the Stone Bridge he spotted Etienne walking towards him. He smiled to himself. Fortune still favoured him. If he was careful and quick, the problem could be easily dealt with. The boy seemed lost in thought. Hlava hid in a doorway and when Etienne walked past he sprang out to greet him with a hug. Etienne had not forgotten Lukas’s warning. Quick on his feet, he deftly sidestepped his assassin. He brushed away the arm that tried to embrace him, but felt a sudden pain in his hand as he made contact with Hlava’s stiletto knife, which clattered to the cobbled street.

Etienne drew his own knife to defend himself, but a passer-by, thinking he was trying to rob Hlava, grabbed his arm. Etienne and Hlava both looked at the knife on the road.

Hlava thought to pick it up and finish the job, but this interloper was a big burly man and now people were watching. ‘Be gone, you rogue,’ said Hlava. ‘Trying to take the purse of an honest merchant.’

Etienne pleaded in turn. ‘This fellow has just attacked me.’

The man looked bewildered.

‘Look,’ said Etienne, holding up his bleeding hand. ‘And there’s his knife on the ground.’

They both turned around to see Hlava vanish into the crowd.

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Lukas stood frozen in the pitch darkness, fighting the fear that rose in his guts. He was entangled in a sticky web of his own making. Everything he had – his uncle, the comforts of the Castle, his future – was crumbling to dust. And most of it was his fault.

The chime of the Cathedral clock, which drifted faintly down through the catacombs of the Castle, had already sounded two of its quarter-hours. Only when he heard the midday chimes did he find the courage to enter the tunnel. With one hand on the wall at his side, and the other held out in front of his face, Lukas lurched blindly into the darkness. It was cold and he was shivering. He could sense the tunnel gradient growing steeper as it led down the hill towards the river. Several times he lost his footing and fell hard on his haunches. Looking round he could see no light at all, neither in front nor behind. Lukas told himself he was lucky. This was, at least, only a floodwater passage rather than one of the Castle’s wastewater drains. His instinct told him to protect his face and he had to constantly battle against a fear that he would walk into a wall or low joist.

Something ran past his ankles and Lukas let out a frightened cry. It must be a rat. At least it didn’t bite him. He lost track of how long he had been down there and sat down on the damp floor. He had been bad, he knew that, and he had been punished for it. But he had tried to mend his ways. Fighting back his tears he prayed to the God he no longer believed in to help him. And his uncle. The thought of Anselmus held prisoner spurred him on. He had to get out of this mess and find Hlava. Only that would save his uncle from the torturers.

Gathering his courage, Lukas stumbled on. The gradient had levelled off now to a slight slope and moving forward was easier. He sensed a cool breeze on his face. Ahead he could see a dim glow. Picking up speed, he hurried towards it. It was a ventilation shaft. Way above his head – perhaps the height of a four-storey building – was a circle of light.

A series of iron hoops driven into the wall led up to the surface. Lukas took a deep breath and began to pull himself upward. The hoops were slippery with moisture, and the higher he climbed the more frightened he felt, but he kept his eyes firmly on the light and when he spotted a bird swooping close to the top of the shaft, he knew he was nearly there.

The shaft was at the end of a luxuriant walled garden attached to one of the villas at the foot of the Castle. There was a gardener close to the house. When the man turned his back Lukas crept from the tunnel and shinned up a tree overhanging the garden wall. Dropping down to the cobbled street outside, he headed at once for the bridge. He did not know what he was going to do, but thought he would start by looking for Etienne around the Old Town Square. Then the two of them could look for Hlava.