Chapter 15
The J-Team
Nick pulled Maximus to a halt in the shadow of the gate in the city wall as Gus laid a hand on his arm. Gus was pulling Magnus to a halt at the same time. “What…” Nick began, only to silence himself as Gus made an urgent downward shushing motion with his hand. He followed Gus’ gaze down the road to see three men, two on regular horses and one on the largest mount Nick had ever seen, shaking hands and then splitting and heading in two different directions.
The tension left Gus’ body, and Nick looked over at him. “What was that about? And who were those men that they caught your attention so hard?”
“The two going eastish I’ve seen around Grantville. They’re part of Bretagne’s Company. A lot of the men are Catholic Savoyards, so we see them at the churches occasionally. If these two are this far south, they’re on business. But the other man…if that’s who I think it is, that’s the right hand of Master Tiberius Claudius Titus Wulff of Jena. He seems to fit the description, anyway.”
“Are you sure?”
“No, I’m not sure. I’ve never met the man before. But he’s the right size, wearing the right coat and hat, and on a distinctive horse that could be a twin of the mount this man Gottesfreund favors. I wouldn’t wager on it, but I wouldn’t wager against it, either. And that concerns me.”
Nick frowned. “Why?”
“Because Master Wulff is a bibliophile of more than a bit of renown, he’s a Protestant, and he’s also known to have agents everywhere. He never seems to do politics directly, but he’s proven a few times recently to know things that he shouldn’t have known, and known them before people who should have known them found out about them.”
Nick followed Gus’ apparent train of thought to its station. “The codex?”
“If there is anyone else in this part of the world that would both know of it and be interested in it, it would be Master Wulff. And if that’s Gottesfreund,” Gus nodded toward the back of the vanishing rider, “that man is most certainly who he would send to hunt it down.” He frowned. “But we need to go to Munich, and it looks like he’s not headed that direction.”
“Is that a problem?”
“If he knows something we don’t, almost certainly.”
“But if that’s not him, then it’s not a problem. Or if it is him, but he or Master Wulff don’t know anything, then it’s still not a problem.”
They continued to watch the rider put distance between them. After a few more minutes, Nick said, “I could always follow him.”
Gus didn’t respond for a long moment, then he sighed. “No, if that’s not Gottesfreund, then it would be a waste of time, and if it is Gottesfreund, he’s not a man that we need to face alone. And headed that direction, he’s almost certainly headed for Augsburg, which is not the best place for a Jesuit to be alone. And dividing forces is bad strategy, anyway.”
“Strategy? Are we at war then? If so, who with?”
Gus looked over at him. “Consider it a skirmish. And who else but Borja?” He gathered his reins up. “No, we’ll go on to Munich as planned. If we find no word or evidence between here and there, we’ll then consider what to do next. Come on.” He nudged Magnus with his heel and started down the road toward Munich. Nick followed and urged Maximus alongside his friend.
“So, what are we doing?”
“What we talked about,” Gus replied. “Keeping an ear out for rumors, looking for things or people that look out of place, picking up the odd fact here and there. We’re Jesuits. It’s what we do. Munich is the first Catholic stronghold north of the Alps that’s not Austrian. If I were bringing the codex north, that’s where I’d head for.”
“Personally, I would have run for the Jesuit Collegium in Ingolstadt, myself.” Nick gave a firm nod.
“That’s because you’re a Jesuit yourself and you’ve been trained to think beyond the moment,” Gus said with a grin, which faded after a moment. “Not all our brothers in the church would do likewise. That’s why I hope to find more in Munich.” After a moment, he added, “We will confer with our brothers in Ingolstadt, of course. Even though I doubt the codex will be there, they may have information for us.”
“Let us pray so, anyway.”
“Indeed.”
Ingolstadt
Nick followed Gus into the tavern. It wasn’t large—at least, not by Thuringian Garden standards, but it was over half-full and there was a buzz of conversation in the room. The only empty tables were around the outer edge of the room, farthest away from the bar counter. Gus began moving through the crowd, sliding between backs with remarkable ease, considering he was one of the larger people in the room, albeit not the tallest. Nick trailed along like a minnow behind a trout.
Midway toward their goal, Gus was accosted.
“Father? Father Heinzerling? Is that you?” The largest man Nick could ever remember seeing stood from a table and bobbed his head.
Gus stopped. “Private Origgi? What are you doing in Ingolstadt?”
“Making a courier run to Savoy by way of Munich, Father,” the big man said, taking his hat off his head and turning it around and around in his hands.
“I haven’t seen you in church lately, son.” Gus’ voice wasn’t accusatory, but Origgi looked down.
“He’s been on extra duty,” the other man at the table spoke up.
“Ah, I see. Then I suggest you go soon, and make your confessions.” He leaned forward a bit and said in a lower tone, “It sounds as if you need it.”
Origgi nodded his head strongly.
“Tell me, Private, who was that man I saw you with in Bayreuth the other day?”
The other man at the table coughed, but Origgi brightened up and said, “That was Archie Gottesfreund. He’s a good man, a friend. He used to be a soldier like us.”
“Ah. I’ve heard of Master Gottesfreund. A good man, as you say.” Gus drew the sign of the cross between them. “Go with God, Private.” He nodded at the man at the table. “Sergeant.”
Gus resumed his progress, and a couple of moments later settled onto a stool by a table in the farthest corner of the room. Nick settled opposite him.
“I assume you planned that,” Nick murmured. “That’s why you had us change to our habits before we came here.” Gus said nothing, but a fleeting smile crossed his face. “But how did you know where to come?”
Gus looked at him and replied in a similar tone. “Oh, come now, Nick. We’re staying at a Jesuit collegium in a Catholic town. I simply asked the Rector’s secretary where the Bretagne Company couriers usually spent their time. He didn’t even have to look it up. Gave me an inn and two taverns. This was the first one. Jesuits know everything there is worth knowing.” He grinned as a waitress approached to take their orders.
Once she left, Nick said, “Do you have what you wanted?”
“What I wanted? No. I would much rather not have that knowledge. But what I needed to know? Yes.”
“So now what do we do?”
“Worry. And pray.”
***
“Origgi?”
“Yes, Sarn’t?”
“Finish your beer. We’re done here.”
“But, Sarn’t…”
“Done, Origgi.”
“Yes, Sarn’t.”
Moments later the two of them were outside, moving toward their inn.
“God knows we don’t encourage you to think, Origgi, because when you try to think you get into trouble, so let me make this simple. Do not talk about anything involving the company or our clients to outsiders. At all. Ever. Understood?”
“Yes, Sarn’t. But Archie is our friend, not a client.”
Sigh. “Origgi – you saw me give a medallion to Archie. That makes him a client. That means you don’t talk about his business to anyone.”
“Oh.”
Wolfe looked at Origgi to see his forehead furrowed.
Sigh. “Origgi, would you like to be around Archie if he got angry?”
“No, Sarn’t.”
“Do you think Archie would be happy to know you had been talking to outsiders about him?”
The furrows deepened. “No, Sarn’t.”
“Would you like Archie to be angry with you?”
The furrows deepened even more. Wolfe let it ride for a moment, then said, “Well?”
“No, Sarn’t.”
“Remember that.”