Dancing in the Palm of His Hand Read Online Free PDF Page B

think he could muster a greater dignity, especially in an audience with the Prince-Bishop.
    Lutz chuckled uneasily. “Ach, they’re always complaining about something.”
    â€œBut you cannot deny that Herr Kaiser became seriously ill after he registered his complaint. So ill that he nearly died.”
    Father Herzeim stepped toward Hampelmann. “There is nothing in what you say to indicate witchcraft.”
    Clenching his fists, Hampelmann willed himself to be patient with the priest. He would not yield to Saint Thomas’ sixth deadly sin: anger.
    â€œYour Grace,” said Father Herzeim, turning away from Hampelmann, “Frau Basser pleaded with me that those whom she’d accused not be arrested. I pray that you will show mercy.”
    â€œDo I not order that witches who confess and repent bestrangled or beheaded before they’re burned? But just as the surgeon is cruel in cauterizing a wound, so must we be cruel in burning away bad flesh from good. If it became known that condemned witches could retract their accusations of others, all of them would do so. Why would they not want their accomplices to go free?” The Prince-Bishop’s face hardened. “Frau Rosen – along with all the others – shall be brought in for investigation. As the law requires.”
    The Prince-Bishop considered the broad tapestry covering one wall. Hampelmann could not see the scene clearly, but he knew it depicted the martyrdom of Saint Kilian, who’d brought Christianity to Würzburg more than 600 years ago, then been murdered by Turkish infidels right there in Marienberg.
    â€œWe must be as dedicated to the true faith as Saint Kilian,” said the Prince-Bishop. “And just as courageous.”
    Father Herzeim reached out to touch the gold cross on the reliquary. “Saint Kilian converted by words, not the sword. These women need religious instruction, not death.”
    â€œSaint Kilian died by the sword,” said Hampelmann, “murdered by those who would not be converted by words. Witches will do the same to us if we allow them to live.”

5
15 April 1626
    Eva had roused the journeymen hours before dawn. Talking quietly to each other, the two men worked at long wooden tables worn smooth and shiny by years of kneaded dough. With floured hands, Eva shaped sweet buns, the only bread the bakers’ trade corporation allowed her to mix and bake.
    There had been four journeymen before Jacob died, but two had left, taunted into quitting “a workshop run by a woman.” Eva was glad they were gone. Barley and rye had become so dear she could not have paid wages to four men.
    She suspected the other two stayed only because each yet hoped to marry her, Herr Rosen’s widow, and thereby gain the position of master baker. Both were hard steady workers, and Herr Stolz, with his sandy hair and strong teeth, could even be considered handsome. Watching his muscled arms and shoulders lifting heavy trays from the ovens, she’d been tempted, more than once, to invite him to her bed. She had little doubt he’d accept the invitation. But Eva knew how men changed when they got what they wanted. Before their marriage, Jacob, a childless widower, had been kind and attentive whenever she came in his bakery to buy bread. After they wed, he was gentle at first, and appreciative that she knew her numbers and could keep the accounts. He was delighted when Eva conceived so soon, but when she gave him only Katharina, his disposition hardened. He cared little that his daughter was born early, so small and scrawny the midwife predicted she would not survive. Jacob cared only that Katharina was not a son, and that her foot was misshapen. Later, Katharina’slimp would sometimes provoke him to rage.
    In the succeeding years, Jacob worked as diligently as an old man could to achieve an heir, and when he could not manage a husband’s duties, he blamed Eva, wondering aloud about