Storming into the office of Estel Castelbracht, he asked directly whether he had seen the man. There seemed no need for great subtlety.
“Indeed I did,” Castelbracht said. “He was hurrying down the street, and he went into the house of Dr. Albertus over yon. I heard him muttering something about a head – ”
“Thank you,” Azzie said, passing him money, as was his wont on dealing with anyone in an official capacity, when he could afford it.
Chapter 8
The doctor’s house was at the end of the little lane that led to the town wall. The house stood all by itself, a tall, narrow old building with ground floor of stone and upper levels of dressed timber. Azzie marched up the steps and swung the great bronze knocker.
“Who knocks?” came forth a voice from inside.
“One who requests knowledge,” Azzie said.
The door was opened. Standing in the doorway was an elderly, white-haired gentleman who wore a fine Roman tunic in spite of this garment having been out of fashion for some hundreds of years. He was tall and stooped, and he walked with the aid of a long cane.
The old gentleman said, “I believe it is Lord Azzie, is it not?”
“That is correct,” Azzie said. “I’ve been told that my servant, Frike, might be found here.”
“Ah, of course, Frike,” the old gentleman said. “Won’t you come this way, sir? By the way, I am Master Albertus.”
He led the way into a gloomy interior, past a cluttered parlor, past an unkempt kitchen and scullery, to a cheerful little drawing room in the back.
Frike was standing by the fireplace at the far end of the room. He smiled when Azzie came in.
“Frike!” cried Azzie. “I thought you had deserted me.”
“Nay, master,” Frike said, “I would not dream of it. What happened was that during your absence, I took myself to the village tavern in search of companionship, and there to quaff the strong red wine that gives this region its ferocious valor. There I met this gentleman, Messer Albertus, who is my old master from the days when I was an apprentice in Salerno.”
“Yes,” Messer Albertus said, his eyes twinkling, “I know this rogue Frike well enough, Lord Azzie. I was overjoyed to hear of his good luck in getting into your employ. I brought him to my house to give him assistance in the matter he is helping you with.”
“What help exactly are you speaking of?” Azzie asked.
“Why, lord, it seems that you require a few first-rate body parts. And I happen to have a particularly choice item in my laboratory.”
“Are you a doctor?” Azzie inquired.
Albertus shook his white-tressed head. “I am an alchemist, my lord, and body parts are often useful in my occupation. If you will come this way …”
Azzie followed the aged gentleman, and was followed in turn by Frike. They went down the hall to a barred door. Albertus unlocked it with a key carried on a thong around his neck, and they followed him down winding flagstone stairs to a well-made alchemist’s laboratory in the cellar. There Albertus lit an ancient oil lamp. By its glow, Azzie could see tables covered with alembics and cysters, and on one wall, a chart of chakra locations from India. On the bookcases that lined one side of the room there were mummified bits and pieces of persons.
“A pretty place,” Azzie commented. “My compliments, doctor! But these specimens are very old. They may have an antiquarian value, but they are of no interest to me.”
“These are simply surplus items,” Albertus said. “Now, look here and see what I have.”
He went to a small vat resting on a side table. From it Albertus lifted a human head severed at the neck. The face was that of a young man, deathly pale, but quite handsome, and this despite the fact that where eyes had been there were now only reddened holes.
“How did he meet his fate?” Azzie asked. “And what happened to his eyes?”
“He had the bad fortune to lose them, my lord.”
“Before or after his death?”
“Before, but only moments before.”