Apothecary Melchior and the Mystery of St Olaf's Church Read Online Free PDF Page B

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    And no one could say he lacked skill when it came to handling arms. He rode as gallantly as some knights, his arrows flew to their mark as accurately as those of an English archer, and when the Council ordered the Blackheads’ war party to display its arms these were always in a commendable condition: the men’s armour glistened with oil, and their battle axes were as sharp as butchers’ blades. When the city guilds organized war games Freisinger set for the Blackheads the honourable goal of winning the highest number of prizes and to be declared the most valiant men on the field.
    Members of the Brotherhood of Blackheads were, of course, only merchants – and most were foreigners at that – but taking part in a tournament allowed a townsman to feel like a nobleman, if only for a moment. Furthermore, Freisinger could not say for certain that neither he nor any other fine Blackhead would fail to unhorse any Harju vassal with his lance.
    Clawes Freisinger had resided in Tallinn for five years and gave himself credit for the fact that the Brotherhood of Blackheads, which before had sunk into the deepest of comas, was now famed throughout the town.
    The eligible bachelor Freisinger was a much-sought-after groom in Tallinn. He had become accustomed to merchants’ wives stealing glances at him, and he had never needed to pay a girl for her company. This was without question no secret from Maiden Hedwig either, certainly not.
    Clawes Freisinger stood and waited patiently until Hedwig noticedhim. He then nodded discreetly and motioned with his head towards the western end of the market square. No doubt they would manage to cross paths there behind some well-concealed corner and once again vow to one another the very thing they had professed in secret for the last year.
    To his surprise Clawes Freisinger had come to the conclusion that he deeply and passionately loved the Maiden Hedwig Casendorpe and that he was prepared to pay the price of forfeiting his Blackhead status if only so he could carry that figure – which he could only imagine from the silhouette beneath her clothing – to his bed as his lawful wife.
    I should resist this temptation with greater fortitude, Freisinger thought as he ran after the Maiden Hedwig like some shepherd boy.

6
THE DOMINICAN MONASTERY
16 MAY, MORNING
    D OMINICAN P RIOR B ALTAZAR Eckell had been feeling under the weather for some time. He was afflicted by aches, heartburn and sharp stinging pains; his appetite had disappeared, his head spun, the world swam before his eyes, and on some occasions, when his condition was acute, the Prior believed he could hear the voice of the Archangel Michael calling out to him, letting him know that he was expected. Maybe his time on this earth was indeed coming to an end, although he still had so much to do … Alas, one man’s time had reached its end just yesterday. He had heard this just now from the monastery
cellarius
Hinricus, who himself heard the news from the cook, who in his turn had learned of it at the market.
    Henning von Clingenstain had been killed on Toompea. His head had been chopped off. Lord have mercy on his soul.
    Prior Eckell was sitting with the young
cellarius
in the monastery scriptorium. The chapter meeting had just ended. For some years now the Prior had, without fail, come to the scriptorium at this time of day to contemplate heavenly and not-so-heavenly matters. The monks who were not in town preaching or handling other monastery affairs worked during this hour before their lunch. The Prior felt a strong need to sit and ruminate on this day because he had already prayed. He could not even remember whether or not he had slept the previous night. Prayer is an art. Genuine prayer, a beseeching force bursting from within a person that makes its way up to God, this must be learned and learned diligently. Prior Eckell had learned to pray before falling asleep in a way that his prayers remained