That night Theresa barely slept, pondering the significance of the parchment that had been tucked away in her father’s bag. Before going to bed, she had taken it out and read through it quickly. It appeared to be a legal document detailing the legacy left by Constantine, the Roman emperor who founded Constantinople. She assumed it was very important or her father wouldn’t have bothered to hide it. Then her mind bubbled over with thoughts of the fire in Würzburg; the flames devouring Korne’s workshop; the parchment-maker’s loathsome smile; and the inferno swallowing up that poor girl. As she drifted to sleep she dreamed of the two terrifying Saxons, half men, half monsters, holding her down and violating her. Then it was the wolves, which, after devouring Hoos’s mount, were trying to tear her to pieces. In her delirium she thought she saw Hoos himself in front of her, slowly raising the emerald-studded dagger to her throat. Several times she didn’t know if she was sleeping or daydreaming. When she managed to open her eyes, she would evoke the protective image of her father. Though that calmed her for a while, yet another demon would come through the darkness at the mouth of the cave to torment her once more.
In that bear cave, where all was silent except for the hooting of an owl and the crackling of flames, she found it difficult to think. Awaiting the new day, she concluded that so much ill fate could only be part of some greater design: God was sending her a message. She reflected on what her sin might have been, and decided that perhaps everything bad that had befallen her was a consequence of her lies.
She recalled lying to Korne when she made him think the count wanted to personally check her entrance examination. She had deceived Hoos, telling him that she worked as a master parchment-maker rather than admitting she was a simple apprentice. And she had proceeded in the same manner with Althar, claiming that she had fled an arranged marriage, when she was merely escaping from the consequences of her deeds.
She wondered whether the master parchment-maker was right about women being the broth in which the filth of lies is boiled; whether in truth she had been a corrupt soul since birth, at the mercy of the compassion of the Almighty. Many times she had refuted those who proclaimed that the daughters of Eve embodied all the vices: weak, impulsive, changing at the whim of their flows, tempted by lust… and yet, at that moment, she began to doubt her convictions. She asked herself whether her lies were the Devil’s doing. After all, it was he that used his trickery to seduce the first woman created by God. In which case, wasn’t it the same demonic force that took Korne’s hatred and transformed it into fire?
Who was she trying to fool? As much as it pained her, she could not deny what she had become. And what would she do when Hoos awoke? Tell him that she had picked up the wrong dagger by mistake? That in the darkness, she had mistaken it for the crude scramasax that he had offered her? Every lie was followed by another, each one a little bit bigger than the last.
She cried inconsolably, but when she felt she had no more tears left, she promised herself that she would never lie again. She promised it for her father. Even if he could not see her, this time she would not fail him.
8
With the first light filtering through the roof of the cave, Theresa decided it was time to rise. She was surprised to find Althar and Leonora still asleep, but she would soon understand that things went at a different pace up there in the hills. She wrapped herself in the cloak she had slept under and silently approached the bed where Hoos was resting. His breathing sounded deep, which put her mind at ease. It was cold, so she turned to the fireplace and stoked the embers. The noise woke Althar, who came round with a clamorous fart. With his eyes half-closed, he huddled affectionately against Leonora.
“Mmm… you’re up already?” he grumbled to Theresa as he finished scratching his crotch. “If you need water, just up the path you’ll find a stream.”
Theresa thanked him. Dodging the nag that like the rest of the animals had spent the night in the cave, she pushed open the door that sealed the entrance and went outside. Satan barked but then followed behind her, tail wagging. She noticed that the temperature had fallen since yesterday, just as Leonora had predicted. Holding her cloak tightly around her, she examined the surroundings.
In front of the entrance to the bear cave there was the empty cart, which she assumed Althar must have unloaded. Wandering a little farther up the path she discovered a hawthorn animal pen, with signs that it had recently been emptied. All around there were woodchips, interspersed with chopped firewood, used wedges, logs of various sizes, mounds of shavings and several mallets, piled into a strange heap. There was no sign of a vegetable patch or anything resembling one.
As she was about to wash she realized she was bleeding down below. Satan came over to sniff her and, annoyed, she shouted at him to go away. Her flow was abundant, so she washed herself thoroughly in the stream before positioning the folded cloth that she always carried with her for this purpose. She crossed herself and ran back to the bear cave.
By then, Althar had already taken the animals outside and Leonora was attending to Hoos.
“How is he?” Theresa inquired.
“He’s breathing better, and seems at ease. I’m heating water to wash him. Come on, give me a hand.”
Theresa obeyed. She took the pot from the embers and brought over the soap made from boiled animal fat, blushing when she realized that Leonora was starting to undress him.
“Don’t just stand there gawking, pull his trousers down,” she ordered.
Theresa tugged them off to reveal a pair of tight woolen long johns. She looked away as it became apparent that Leonora was taking these down, too.
“Right, then, pass me the soap—and be quick about it, or he’ll freeze.”
The young woman turned red. Aside from her little cousins, she had never seen a man with so few clothes on. She passed the soap to Leonora, who scrubbed Hoos as though she were washing a chicken. When she asked Theresa to hold him while she continued to clean, she couldn’t help glancing toward his groin. Her gaze fell on the soft hair that surrounded his member, and she felt flushed when it occurred to her that she would never have imagined it so big. She thought Leonora would chide her if she caught her looking and so tried to be as discreet as possible, but while they were wringing out the cloths, she was able to reexamine him less surreptitiously.
“It looks like he’s broken a rib, see?” said Leonora, pointing at a reddish bump on his chest. She rested her right ear against his torso and listened. “But I can’t hear any whistling, which is a good sign, at least.”