Grantville Gazette.Volume XVI Read online

  Josef proceeded to do so, but all the while he was aware of that weighty gaze, as if he were a subject of a naturalist's study. He described the music they had studied with Marla Linder, the recordings that existed, the sheet music that they had seen, and the instruments-oh, the instruments! Josef considered himself a plain-spoken man, but he almost waxed lyrical as he tried to describe the brass and woodwind instruments from the future. Finally, he talked about the crowning glory of all they had seen, the piano. At last, Josef ran out of words, and stopped. He almost sighed in relief as that measuring consideration shifted to his brother.

  "And you," Schutz asked Rudolf, "what do you have to say?"

  Rudolf was silent for a long moment. Josef was about to jab him with an elbow, and sighed when he finally spoke.

  "You are in their books, Master." Schutz sat bolt upright, eyes wide. "You lived quite a long life, and the books speak well of you." Schutz's mouth dropped open. "They call you the first great German composer, and the Father of German music." A very far-away look came over Schutz's face. "And it occurs to me," Rudolf said softly, "to wonder just what music such a man would write with the tools of the future in his hands."

  Josef was unable to see the vision that was before the master's eyes, but he knew it was there. He had to bite his lower lip very hard to keep from gaping at his brother. Periodically he had to remind himself that although Rupert was a man of few words, that did not mean he did not know how to use them, and most effectively, too. Tonight was one such time.

  The master's gaze suddenly snapped back into focus, and he chuckled. "A story most well told, and not the least was the ending. But, outside of Maestro Carissimi's letter, what proof do you have that this is all true?"

  Josef nodded to Rupert. It was Rupert who had insisted they needed something tangible in reserve, so to him went the honors of presenting it. Reaching inside a document case, Rupert withdrew a large music book and laid it in front of Schutz, who picked it up.

  "Hmm… Die Kunst der Fuge, by Johann Sebastian Bach. I know of some Bachs in Thuringia. Competent musicians, as I understand. But who is this Johann Sebastian, and why did he write of the Art of Fugue? A pretentious title, I fear."

  "Just look at it, Master. You will understand."

  Schutz did just that. He began turning the pages over quickly, but as he progressed deeper into the book, he began slowing down, until he was spending a minute or more on each page, scrutinizing the music intently. Finally, he closed the book, once more staring at the junction of ceiling and wall across the room from him. At length, he lowered his eyes to the brothers, a very sober expression on his face.

  "The Art of Fugue, indeed. And this came from the future?" He shook his head as Josef opened his mouth. "No, I do not doubt you. This… this genius is not in our time. It could not be hidden." Pulling at his goatee, Schutz brooded. He looked back at them. "No, no jest is this. So, the question is, what shall the response be?"

  Grantville – Late February, 1634

  "Lady Beth!" Marcus Wendell said as he encountered her outside the school building. "I didn't know you were back from Magdeburg."

  "Hey, Marcus. Yeah, I got back last night."

  "I'm surprised you're not at home, crashed and burning."

  Lady Beth snorted. "I'm a little tougher than that, thank you very much."

  "So, how was it… the trip, I mean?"

  "Once I got to Magdeburg, it was good. I saw everything I wanted to see, and had a couple of really long talks with Mary Simpson. She gave me some good advice."

  "And?"

  "You're looking at the new administrator for the Duchess Elisabeth Sofie Secondary School for Girls." Lady Beth smiled.

  "You took the job! Outstanding! Congratulations!" Marcus grabbed her hand and shook it enthusiastically. "So, when do you have to be there?"

  "This school has to be created from scratch, so basically as soon as possible. I'm shooting to be in Magdeburg full time by the middle of March."

  "Ouch! Sounds like you're going to be pretty busy."

  "Yep. I've got to sell the furniture and most of our odds and ends, pack up everything we want to take with us, and hand over my jobs." Marcus' eyebrows rose. Lady Beth continued. "Max Ohl will take over my job at the Tech Center full time. He's really pretty sharp. If you have to do anything with him, you'll like him. I'll work with him another day or so, make sure he knows where all the bodies are buried and who to watch out for." She got a mischievous glint in her eyes. "And I got Mary to commit to a replacement for her arts program management stuff."

  "Oh, please," Marcus groaned, "please tell me it's not that awful Haggerty woman!"

  "Well, actually, her name did come up…" Marcus interrupted Lady Beth with a louder groan, "… but I managed to convince Mary that she really wasn't the best choice for that work."

  "Thank you, thank you, thank you! All right, already, tell me who it is!"

  "Amber Higham." Marcus' relief was almost tangible, and Lady Beth chuckled. "Yeah, I convinced Mary that Amber's theatre background would help her manage the personalities and the programs."

  "That it would. Plus, she's good people."

  "As good as they come."

  Copenhagen – Late February, 1634

  Josef knocked on the door, a little diffidently, Rudolf standing behind him. "Come in," he heard, so he opened the door and entered the room, Rudolf coming behind and closing the door. Master Schutz waved a hand at the chairs, not looking up from where he was reading through Die Kunst Der Fuge again. "Be seated, Herren, if you please." Josef and Rudolf pleased to sit immediately, and watched the master as he slowly turned the pages of the masterwork of a man who would never be.

  Finally, Schutz closed it and set it aside on the table, which was clear of everything that had cluttered it the last time they had been in this chamber. He sat back in his chair, and laid his arms along the arms of the chair, gripping the knobs at the ends. His presence was austerely dignified, almost regal, and Josef swallowed.

  There was silence for some time. Schutz did not speak, and Josef and Rudolf could not bring themselves to break the master's silence. At last, Schutz focused on them, and said, "I have served the Elector of Saxony for almost half of my life-first as organist, then by his grace I was named Kappellmeister. I have written music, led performances and taught his students and musicians for all that time. And he has been a reasonably generous patron."

  Josef began steeling himself for disappointment. This sounded as if Master Schutz was going to refuse them.

  "He has been generous until recently, that is," Schutz continued dryly. "His recent… reversals… have forced him to adopt measures of economy."

  Josef's heart began to rise, and he dared to say, "You mean…"

  "Elector John George cannot pay my salary, nor that of my… his musicians." Josef felt a sense of elation at the frown on Schutz's face, only to have it collapse at his next words. "I have been offered a post here in the court of Crown Prince Christian, and I am certain that I would be allowed to hire my musicians." No question this time about whose musicians they really were.

  Preparing himself to hear words of refusal from the master, Josef was instead startled to hear, "But…" Schutz said nothing more for several moments, then he picked up Die Kunst Der Fuge again for a moment, and said, "This has awakened a curiosity-nay, a hunger-in me that I cannot resist." A small smile appeared on the master's face. "I would come to Grantville to see the wonders of which Maestro Carissimi tells me, and to finally meet il maestro face to face. And then, perchance, to Magdeburg, to hear this concert you spoke of. How large an orchestra did you say you were trying to amass?"

  Josef tried to speak and discovered his throat was almost paralyzed with surprise. He coughed hard, and managed to croak, "Franz Sylwester, our dirigent, wishes to have sixty string players, Master Schutz."

  "So many…" A calculating look crossed the master's face, and then a smile of pleasure. "I have never heard so many. I look forward to it. And you m
ay tell your leader that I will encourage my musicians to also come to Magdeburg." His smile widened to a grin with more than a hint of wicked humor in it. "After all, if Gustavus Adolphus has, ah, acquired dominion over the lands of the Elector, then it would be only fitting that he acquire the Elector's musicians as well, would it not?" Josef found himself nodding energetically, a smile on his face the equal of that on the master's.

  Schutz lightly smacked his hands on the knobs at the end of his chair arms, and said, "Good! Now, I must stay here until the marriage celebrations of Crown Prince Christian and Princess Magdalene Sybille, the Elector's daughter, are completed, to ensure that the music is done as I specified. It took them some time to find a suitable date with no conflicting celebrations in the church calendar, but they finally decided, and the wedding will occur shortly on 2 March. We will all be required for various celebrations and gatherings after that, but I anticipate that I will be able to slip away perhaps a week or so later."

  "Umm," Josef asked, "am I correct that the courts of Denmark and Saxony still calculate dates using the Julian calendar?" He knew the answer; he was setting up a problem for the master.

  "You are."

  "Master, the Grantvillers calculate dates using the new calendar of Pope Gregory." Schutz's eyebrows rose. "So their dates are ten days ahead of yours. In the new calendar, the wedding will occur on 12 March. That leaves about three weeks for your musicians to travel to Magdeburg in order to be there for the beginning of rehearsals in the first week of April."

  Schutz waved a hand. "I can change the schedules somewhat. My men will be there." He smiled. "They will not fail me, not after I tell them what they are going for."

  ***

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