Free The Cabinet of Curiosities by Paul Dowswell Page B

best to hide his exasperation, but the Emperor noticed and his mood changed in an instant. It was like a chilly draught stealing across the room.
    Anselmus braced himself. He was determined to mention his new remedy. ‘Your Excellency,’ he said, ‘might I recommend a cure for your condition which I have just discovered.’
    Lukas tried to hide a smirk. Clearly Grunewald was not going to get the credit for this.
    ‘It comes from the Pope’s physician. His Holiness greatly benefited from it.’
    But Rudolph was no longer in a receptive frame of mind. He turned his back on them again.
    They waited in awkward silence. The sun came out, then went in. A horse and cart scuttered across the cobbled courtyard below. The fire crackled in its grate.
    Eventually the Emperor turned to face them.
    ‘Cure? We are weary of your cures, Anselmus Declercq,’ he said, his voice a low, threatening hiss. ‘We followed your advice on the lapis lazuli stones we received. We wore this confounded necklace –’ he wrenched it from his neck and threw it at the window, which cracked but did not break – ‘and it has made not the slightest difference.
    ‘Then we took the ground-stones potion – as you suggested. If you think two days of chronic dyspepsia and a day of burning flux a fine cure for melancholy, then we have to disagree with you.’
    Lukas looked at Anselmus from the corner of his eye, trying to gauge his reaction. His uncle was standing there, head cocked to one side, wearing his usual ‘listening’ expression.
    When he was sure the Emperor had finished speaking he said, ‘I am sorry Your Excellency has experienced an unfortunate reaction to my cure. I can assure Your Highness that the remedy has benefited many of my previous patients.’
    ‘You have many patients who have the wealth and opportunity to ingest lapis lazuli?’ said Rudolph incredulously. ‘Then you hardly have need of our patronage.’
    He stood glowering. The sun had come out again and was shining directly through the window, leaving him in silhouette so that Anselmus and Lukas could not see the expression on his face.
    After a further silence Anselmus perkily suggested the Emperor might still like to try this new concoction. ‘There are no ground stones – only herbs picked at the most advantageous moment of the lunar cycle.’
    ‘This medicine does not interest us,’ said Rudolph wearily, his rage spent. ‘Doktor Krohl’s cures may be equally ineffective, but at least they do not cause such unpleasantness . . . And if we ever experience a similar disorder of the innards again, from anything you may prescribe, we shall suspect that our most favoured court physician is trying to poison us and have him sent to Daliborka Tower.’
    He turned his back, picked up his little handbell and rang it. The examination had been forgotten and the audience was over.
    As they walked back to his apartment, Lukas noticed how Anselmus had gone a chalky colour.
    ‘The symptoms His Excellency describes are not unusual in any course of medicine. He must know that . . .’ he said. Then he lowered his voice, as if imparting a great confidence. ‘That was him on a bad day, but I’ve seen worse – babbling, tears, tearing hair. He’ll probably be pleasant the next time we see him.’

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    Chapter Twelve
    Rudolph was cold with them when they came again, but on their following visit he was anxious to show Anselmus his latest acquisition: a polished brass armillary sphere for studying the heavens. They fell into conversation about the difficulties of stellar observation and the strain staring at tiny dots of light placed on the eyes. Anselmus had been forgiven. As they walked back to their chambers, Lukas noticed his uncle seemed almost giddy with relief. Otka was waiting for them, and her face lit up when she saw Anselmus looking happy. Lukas sensed a strong bond between them.
    Lukas increasingly missed having friends his own age to talk to. The Spanish party was still