The Cabinet of Curiosities Read Online Free PDF

speak again. ‘Sir, I have travelled from Ghent to meet with my uncle. His name is Anselmus Declercq, and I am his nephew, Lukas Declercq.’
    ‘Off,’ said the officer. ‘Off and do not return.’ He advanced with his sword pointing directly at Lukas. ‘It is only the thought of your wretched blood soiling the Castle portal that stops me from killing you.’
    ‘Please let me show you the letter from my uncle,’ begged Lukas. He fumbled in his coat and produced his forgery of Anselmus’s letter of introduction. At least that hadn’t been stolen when he arrived in Prague. The officer was looking dangerously impatient.
    Lukas opened the letter and held it out for inspection. The officer plucked it away from him with the point of his sword.
    ‘Where is your baggage? Where are your servants? You do not even have a purse to your name.’
    Lukas started to explain that he had been robbed on his arrival in the city, but the officer was examining the letter and clearly not listening.
    ‘Arrest this vagrant for impersonating a relative of the court.’
    The forged letter might have fooled the guards at the city gate, but it was not good enough for the palace.
    ‘Take him to Daliborka Tower.’
    Surrounded by four soldiers, Lukas was dragged into the Castle. As he turned a corner into a dark alley he saw the officer rip his letter to shreds and let them scatter in the wind.
    Lukas was hauled through a series of grand courtyards and portals, then past the narrow northern wall of the Castle along the yawning face of the Cathedral nave. When they reached another great courtyard he screwed up his courage and shouted, ‘Uncle Anselmus, help . . .’ but the ‘me’ was squeezed from his lips into a strangulated squawk.
    ‘Shut up,’ said the guard, holding him by the throat.
    At the bottom of the hill was another guarded gate and for a few glorious moments Lukas thought they were going to throw him out the other end. But they turned sharp left and he was dragged up a steep flight of stairs and through a small maze of passageways. Below them was an ancient stone tower. Down they went and Lukas had to move his feet very quickly to stop them bashing against the stone steps.
    At the entrance to the tower one of the guards banged three times on a black wooden door fortified with heavy iron struts and bolts. In the pause that followed Lukas could hear shouting, or was it screaming? His stomach turned over and he thought he would be sick.
    The tower reeked of unwashed bodies and human effluent. A voice behind the door demanded to know who was there. ‘Imperial guard with a prisoner,’ came the reply. Bolts were drawn back. The door opened with a billowing fart of heat and stinking smoke. In front of them was a narrow staircase. Lukas heard a high, unnatural shrieking, and something in the smell coming up the stairs reminded him of burning meat.
    ‘Down we go,’ said a guard with mocking cheeriness. Lukas was shoved almost off balance and stumbled before he regained his equilibrium. What were they going to do to him?
    The scene that greeted him at the bottom of the stairs was beyond his imagination. Lukas fainted.
    Another scream brought him abruptly to his senses. He was soaked through. He wondered if he had wet himself in fright, but then recalled the sensation of cold water being thrown over him. He was in a small enclosure built into the side of the wall, facing a wooden door with a small iron grille. The cell had no ceiling and was like a large chimney breast with an open top about twelve feet up, through which he could see the wooden joists of the floor above.
    He steeled himself to peep through the grille. He was in the Castle torture chamber. There were body cages and all manner of tongs, prodders, stocks and chains. Some half-starved wretch was tied spreadeagled to a rack and a gross, sweaty, bare-chested man with a black hood over his head was prodding him with a red-hot poker.
    The scrawny prisoner did not scream