Part 14 (1/2)
”As you wish, esteemed Fraulein,” Carl answered with a bow of his head. He played a few opening bars and then began to sing her request, a romantic song about his search for the love of his life and how she'd fulfilled him.
Dolf couldn't help but notice that while the coins weren't plentiful, this song brought in more than the progressive songs. After four more melodies, while Carl retuned, he mentioned that Gertrude Fischel not only sold laundry hardware but also MaidenFresh blue bleaching powder which made linens whiter than lying out all day in the sun.
When the set was complete, another small jug of fresh cider was sitting next to Dolf as he munched on his roasted onion.
”No charge.” Georg had winked to Dolf when he handed him the onions.
”How did you know I had MaidenFresh bleaching powder?” Gertrude asked later, glowering with her hands on her hips. ”I sold out all that I had brought today while you were still playing.”
Carl swallowed his bite of onion and took another swig of cider. ”There's no MaidenFresh laundry in town and you have Laughing Laundress goods. Pretty obvious connection to me. If you didn't have it, you should. Besides, I recognized the barrel.”
She eyed him with suspicion, her dark blond eyebrows lowered. ”You're not quite as stupid as you sometimes seem.” She changed the subject. ”I admit your song is very romantic but who's theFreiin ?”
”All traveling singers, fiddlers too, are issued aFreiin , whether n.o.ble or not, to serve as an inspiration. A muse, you might say. Besides, it comes in handy if he's invited to play for n.o.bility.”
”I never heard the song before today,” Dolf grouched, almost disapproving.
Carl burst out with a laugh and shook the boy's shoulder with one hand. ”It's a song my parents knew before I was born. Surprisingly enough, it's lasted for a good many years. I even heard an English version of it in Grantville.”
Adam Oehlschlegel walked over. ”Herr Johantgens, my wife Maria was in the market a short while ago and heard you suggesting that your audience purchase certain goods. She also saw what happened at those stalls even before your break.” He paused a moment. ”Could I prevail upon you to mention my shop? Maria says that we will have a s.h.i.+rt ready for you tomorrow if you mention us in each of your, sets.”
Dolf saw Carl consider the offer, then shake his head. ”Much as I would like to, it would be unfair for me to take a s.h.i.+rt for what will only be two or three more sets today. But I'll mention your shop anyway.”
The older man laughed and gripped Carl's hand with both of his, shaking it up and down. When it came away, Dolf saw a gleam of silver in Carl's palm.
No, this gra.s.shopper wouldn't be wondering where his next meal would be coming from during the winter.
Dolf figured that by early afternoon Carl had received goods or money from half of the market vendors he mentioned. He described Herr Oehlschlegel's tailor shop in glowing terms in each of his sets. After Gertrude had sent word that she'd restocked, he resumed mentioning her bleaching powder.
”Is she your girlfriend already?” Dolf teased Carl. ”I mean, she hasn't sent any money over or volunteered to wash your clothes.”
Carl grinned. ”Nope. But I have my reasons which have nothing to do with her.”
Dolf was mystified.
”Isn't it time you went home and did some ch.o.r.es?”
”No. Uh, Papa told me last night that they would be harvesting next week and that I could stay with you as long as I wasn't in your way. By the way, uh, when will you be coming back to Aschersleben?”
”Not for a long time. I've got a number of places to visit and once the fall rains start, I want to be inThuringia . I know quite a few people there.”
”Is that where yourFreiin is?”
Carl burst out with a laugh. ”Not exactly. She lives inSaxony . AfterHalle , I'm going toLeipzig and I'll visit her.”
Jan Wagner walked up to them. ”Herr Johantgens, Carl. My niece Gertrude tells me that you're responsible for her selling out her bleaching powder twice today. I thank you.”
Carl grinned and showed an uplifted palm. ”I can only make suggestions. I can't make anyone buy.”
”Tell me, is there anything you've noticed here that is different from other towns?”
Carl twisted his mouth and then sighed. ”Your watchmen seem to be more . . . vigorous about getting funds from people marketing goods than any other town I've seen. Personally, I think it's bad policy. But that's just my opinion.”
”I'll talk it over with Heinrich Grueber. He's the head of the watchmen.” A quick wave and Jan was gone.
Dolf just had to say something. ”Carl? Herr Grueber is . . . dishonest. I mean, he doesn't send all the money they collect over to Herr Wagner.” He dropped his head as if ashamed. ”I, uh, overheard them once. I didn't mean to.”
Carl gave Dolf's shoulders a rough paternal rub. ”I figured that out when Herr Wagner hadn't seen my lucky SaxonGroschen . But I like having you confirm it to me.” He didn't speak for a moment. ”It's good to have people like you who can report things that are important to the right people.”
Carl looked around and squatted to look straight into Dolf's eyes. He almost whispered, ”Don't tell anybody but I gave that watchman an ordinary SaxonGroschen I happened to have in my pouch. I just wanted to see if it would be sent on to Herr Wagner.”
Realization burst into Dolf's eyes. ”Are you Spartacus?”
Carl put his finger to his lips. ”Oh, no. But he told me to come here to see if your report was correct.
Other people had complained but your letter was the first to indicate some money wasn't going where it should. What Jan and the rest of the organization do with what they receive is still impressive.”
”Do you work for the Magdeburg Committee?”
Carl gave a shake of his head. ”Not exactly. I happened to be inMagdeburg and Spartacus is a friend of mine. So when I said I was headed south toHalle , he asked if I'd make a detour.”
”Is that how you, no, well, what do you do?”
”I play my fiddle to make money. As you've figured out, I have connections and sometimes I do things for them.”
”When I grow up, could I become a member?”
”Sure. By the time you're my age, the CoCs will be very different. They'll transform into political parties, still pus.h.i.+ng for the same social reforms and improvements but in political a.s.semblies such as the city council,Landestags and even a national a.s.sembly.”
”But I'll be a farmer! I'll be in a farming village.”
”Nothing says a farmer can't be a politician. In fact, my, well . . . never mind. Down inFranconia , right now, farmers are some of those pus.h.i.+ng hardest for change. Aschersleben might be officially in theMagdeburg bishopric but that'll never last, not under the Swedes and the new Confederated Princ.i.p.alities.”
Dolf flew down the road home that evening br.i.m.m.i.n.g with excitement. First, just the idea that Spartacus . . . Spartacus . . . had read something written by him, thrilled him more than anything he could imagine.
Second, Spartacus had sent Carl, a grown man, to Aschersleben, just to find out if what he said was true. Spartacus was so great that he didn't dismiss what a ten year-old boy wrote to him!
Mama noticed something had definitely changed but didn't say anything, just continued to prepare the evening meal. Papa walked into the house and washed his face and hands before sitting at the table.
Katya sat quietly in her chair.
Papa rarely talked after giving grace until he'd finished his bowl of soup. Today, though, after having a few spoonfuls, he turned his head and looked at Dolf. ”So what's the news in the city?”
Dolf was already bouncing in his seat. ”I, I wrote a letter to Spartacus. He's a man who works with Gretchen Richter. For the CoCs. About Heinrich at the Golden Lion. I read a brochure he wrote.
Spartacus, not Heinrich. I saw how Heinrich split out and kept some of the money that he collected for the Committee. So he sent Carl to find out. Carl works with the Magdeburg Committee but he's, you know, different from them. Carl says I can become a member. Says that it was good that I wrote to Spartacus about what I saw. But he's leaving tomorrow.”