An Embarrassment of Riches (40 page)

The boy ducked his head and hurried into the crowd to find the nearest lady-in-waiting. He reappeared with Iliska of Szousa trailing after him.

Iliska gave Rakoczy a speculative smile as she courtisied the Konige. “Command me, dear Royal.”

Konige Kunigunde blinked. “I need to be alone for a short while,” she collected herself enough to say. “Take me to my apartments. I will be better soon.”

“Of course, dear Royal,” said Iliska, looking at Rakoczy as she spoke, measuring him with her eyes. “I will find you to tell you the Konige is … is improved. I will stay with her until she is.” She offered her arm for the Konige to lean on, patting her hand gently. “You’ll be more yourself in a little while, dear Royal.”

The Court parted to permit the Konige and Iliska to pass, the departure marked by a susurrus of inquisitive whispers. At the door, the Konige turned and said, “I will join you when you go to eat. Until then, you may amuse yourselves as you think best.”

Feeling uncomfortable from the notice he was attracting, Rakoczy soon found an excuse to depart. He reclaimed Phanos at the stable, mounted, and left the central courtyard by the main gate, letting the gelding pick his pace down the hill to Mansion Belcrady. A luminous light in the west was fading as night closed in, and the town was shut up for the night, households devoting the evening to simple food and prayer.

“You are returned early,” Minek remarked as he opened the gate for Rakoczy.

“That I am,” Rakoczy agreed, dismounting and looking about for Illes; the wavering torchlight emphasized the darkness and turned Illes’ approach into a flickering apparition. Although Rakoczy’s night-seeing eyes were not deceived, the impression was a disquieting one.

“I have warm mash for him, Comes,” he said as he took the reins to lead the gelding away.

“Good. And some olive oil with the mash; he is shedding, and the oil will help him to be rid of the hair.”

“As you wish, Comes,” Illes promised, clucking at Phanos.

Barnon admitted Rakoczy to the entry hall. “It is good to have you home, Comes.”

“Thank you, Barnon.” He noticed that Barnon was trembling. “Are you well?”

“Yes. But I am cold,” he said.

Relief went through Rakoczy like a gust of wind. “Then have Kornemon stoke the fireplaces and set the fires. There is no reason for you to be so chilled.” He went into the main hall, pointing to the hearth. “The Episcopus has not banned heat for Holy Week. You need not hesitate to light the fire.”

“Yes, Comes. Thank you for that.” Barnon ducked his head more respectfully than he usually did. “The household will be glad.”

“There’s no point for you to have to huddle around the spits in the kitchen to keep from succumbing to cold.” Rakoczy went toward the staircase. “Is Hruther in my workroom?”

“I don’t know,” Barnon answered.

“Um,” said Rakoczy, to make it plain that he had understood, as he continued upward, his thoughts in a tangle and his worries multiplying with every step.

*   *   *

Text of a letter from Antal of Szousa in Praha to his uncle, Szygosmund, Comes of Czongrad, at Konig Bela’s Court in Buda, Hungary, dictated to Pader Bedo, Premonstratensian scribe and Court clerk, carried by private courier and delivered twenty-three days after it was written.

To the most respected and esteemed leader of our family, Szygosmund, Comes of Czongrad, the duteous greetings from your nephew, Antal of Szousa, at the Court of Konige Kunigunde in Praha:

My venerable uncle,

I have, at your request, been at pains since arriving here to be vigilant in the care of my sister, Iliska, serving Konige Kunigunde as a waiting-woman, and to seek out likely husbands for her, a task that has been made more difficult than either of us anticipated with the Konig away at war with most of his Court accompanying him. There are men at Court, but not many of them offer the kind of alliance that would improve our family and increase its holdings.

One of the men at the Konige’s Court is a Transylvanian Comes, Comes Santu-Germaniu, who is formidably wealthy, but who is here under terms of exile. Apparently he is unmarried, about forty, judging by his appearance. There are those who say that he is actually a spy for Konig Bela, and others who say that he is an ally of Konig Bela’s heir. In either case, he would be a poor bargain for us to make. Unfortunately, my sister has become fascinated with him, either because of his elegance or his fortune, but neither of those things will serve to advance our family, so I am doing what I can to discourage Iliska from setting her hopes upon him. She may be a willful girl, but she knows what she owes to the House and to her blood. I am confident that she will turn her thoughts to more appropriate noblemen than this discredited Comes.

Now that Easter is over by a day, the Court is preparing for the Konige’s May Festival. There will be jousting and feasting and as many kinds of competition as can be possible in a Court so lacking in suitable men. I’ve granted Iliska the right to wear the gold necklaces you have entrusted to me for her adornment, and I will let her wear the pearl earrings. She has appropriate bleihauts for all Court functions, of course, but I am mindful of your recommendation that she not be encouraged to make too great a display, not only to keep her from the envy of the Konige’s other ladies, but to depress the greed of potential suitors.

The Konige herself is well, if a bit downcast by the absence of the Konig. She and her daughters are surrounded by all manner of entertainments, and although Agnethe of Bohemia is still a babe-in-arms, she is not a difficult child, and she has taken a liking to Iliska, so Iliska has been much assigned the task of looking after her, which should benefit her while she remains at Court.

We have heard rumors here that Konig Bela is unwell. Two cloth merchants from Bologna have arrived here bringing news that he is not in the field yet, although Konig Otakar’s armies have been on the move for three weeks and more. One of the men said that he had heard that Bela’s heir had hired an assassin to poison him, but the other said that was a baseless tale. Whatever the case may be, I ask you to let us know as soon as you receive this, what the condition of Konig Bela’s health may be. For the sake of Konige Kunigunde as well as Bela’s courtiers here in Praha, such information may prove crucial in days to come.

Never doubt that I have the welfare of our House always foremost in my thoughts, and with God’s help, I will serve the family honorably. You may be confident that I will continue, as long as God grants me life, to protect and promote the good of our House and the heritage we will bequeath to those who come after us.

Antal of Szousa

(his mark)

By the hand of Pader Bedo, Premonstratensian clerk and scribe to the Court of Konige Kunigunde of Bohemia at Praha the 20
^th
day of April in the 1270
^th
Year of Man’s Salvation.

2

“I am so glad that Easter is over and we can wear bright colors again,” said Iliska, stretching luxuriously in her new chainse, a glowing leaf-green that added brightness to her eyes and brought out the color in her cheeks.

“Better for you not to make too much of a show,” Csenge of Somogy warned her. “The Episcopus doesn’t like ostentation. He says it leads to envy and pride.”

The two of them were alone in the ladies’ hall, waiting for their turn in the bath-house. The day was balmy, so their second-story windows stood open, letting in the air and sunshine in equal measure. Below in the stable courtyard there was a bustle of activity as three new German knights made ready to depart for Austria to take their place among the Konig’s German Guard.

Iliska rounded on her. “Then why does he wear a jeweled robe and carry a golden crozier? Or does he think no one could envy an Episcopus such treasures?” She ignored the snort of disapproval that remark earned her, and instead went twirling across the ladies’ hall, laughing and flicking her hands over her head.

“The Episcopus’ vestments and crozier show the way our faith magnifies God in His Majesty.” Csenge shook her head.

“And no one ever begrudged the Episcopus his grandeur? Not even for a moment?” Iliska laughed. “What monk would not like vestments of silk instead of stuff?” She gave a little hop and spun more quickly.

“You’re a hoyden, Iliska of Szousa,” said Csenge with a scowl of disapproval.

“As God made me,” said Iliska with the assumption of piety.

Csenge did not laugh. “Be careful that your mischief is not your undoing.”

“Why should it be?—since it is God’s Will,” she challenged, whirling more rapidly still, and growing dizzy, laughing loudly.

“Light behavior means a light character, and the Konige will not have such women around her.” This time the severity of her expression left little doubt as to her meaning. “You can be sent away if you bring disrepute to the Konige’s Court, and then no honorable man will have you to wife.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Iliska declared; nevertheless, she stopped turning and faced Csenge, blinking to steady her vision. “Why do you insist on dampening everything?”

“I don’t dampen, as you call it. I devote myself to the Konige, as should you. I have as many expectations as you do, but I know better than to show them, or to display myself, or to undertake something so unwise as your roguery.” Csenge kicked at the rushes, dislodging the small carcase of a mouse as she did. “The house-slaves are being lax again.”

“Then arrange for the stewards to beat them. That should make them keep to their duty.” Iliska moved toward the window. “The breeze is chilly today, for all the sun is warm.”

“If the sun is warm, then the bath-house will hold its heat. Today and tomorrow it will be used, and not again after that for a month.” Csenge stretched slowly. “Be sure your gorget is clean for Mass tomorrow. If it isn’t, you will cast disapprobation on the Konige in your remissness.”

“And my veil must also be clean,” said Iliska, not succeeding in keeping the resentment out of her voice. “My brother has already issued instructions. I have to abide by them.”

“You would be wise to obey him; he is here to defend you.” Csenge made her way to the single chair in the room and sat down. “Remember not to linger in the bath—you do not want to indulge your flesh.”

Iliska grinned. “Why shouldn’t I indulge my flesh? God gave it to me, didn’t He?”

Csenge stiffened in her chair. “That is blasphemy. If you say such things again, you will bring the Church upon you, and no one—not your brother, not your House, not the Konige, or the Episcopus himself—will be able to save you from the consequences. The Konige and all her Court will suffer the opprobrium of your behavior.”

“It isn’t blasphemy,” said Iliska, but her voice shook as she spoke.

“I wouldn’t put it to the test if I were you; women are known to be more inclined to sin than men are, and we must be diligent in keeping to the ways of the Godly,” said Csenge, and glanced toward the door as Sorer Zuza knocked upon it. “Your levity may yet bring you down,” she added just above a whisper.

“Your drying sheets are ready for you,” the nun called out. “The bath awaits.”

“Come, Sorer,” Iliska said, opening the door to the nun. “We thank you for bringing us our sheets.”

“It is my task so to do,” Sorer Zuza said, holding out the engulfing sheets. “See you keep your modesty even bathing, for God sees all.”

Iliska bit back a retort as she took the sheets. “May God reward your service.”

“Amen.” Sorer Zuza stepped back, crossed herself, and closed the door.

Getting up, Csenge took her drying sheet from Iliska. “Do you remember how to get into the bath so that no one can see you?”

“Yes,” Iliska said, sounding ill-used. “Fasten the sheet to the hooks in the wall and stay behind it once it is in place.”

“And when you get out, stand behind it and wrap it around you meekly so that your body is not exposed in any unbecoming way.”

“I then give my garments to the laundresses and they will hand me clean garments from my own garderobe. That is the ritual, is it not?” Iliska’s lower lip protruded.

“Yes. You have it. Then we should go down. Imbolya and Betrica should be gone by now; Sorer Zuza will alert Gyongyi and Milica to make ready and then to wait here.” Csenge thought carefully about what she should say to Iliska next. “Do keep your place in mind, and be a credit to it. If you please God, you will please the Episcopus.”

“So I have been told,” Iliska said, and swung the door open for Csenge to lead the way to the bath-house. “One bath at the end of every month and one before the Mass of the Nativity and one before the Mass of the Resurrection. So we will have twice bathed in April. Does that make the Episcopus more wary for our souls?” She pursed her lips as if trying to decide if it would be wise to say anything more, then fell silent as she caught sight of the Greek eunuch who guarded the corridor to the Konige’s Garden and the bath-house beyond, her bare feet making her wince as she trod the rough gravel of the path, thinking as she did that this must be mortification of the flesh for going without solers.