Iny Lorentz - The Marie Series 02 (36 page)

10.

The procession had been traveling through uninhabited forests for several weeks, crossing overgrown clearings that used to be towns, and passing ruins of destroyed villages and fortifications almost daily. When the highest peaks of the wooded mountains were mere shadows on the horizon behind them, they arrived late one afternoon at a newly rebuilt castle. Its defensive walls were tiered according to the latest innovations, and its towers were arranged so that besiegers would find themselves under fire from several sides. The watchman’s call told them the procession had been spotted, and dozens of heavily armed soldiers immediately appeared on the walls.

Michel pointed at the palatine lion fluttering above the castle keep, and laughingly turned to his companions. “They assume we’re Hussites because of our wagons. I think it might be a good idea to announce ourselves.” He nodded at Junker Heribert, who spurred his horse and rode ahead. Shortly thereafter, they could hear his loud, cheerful greeting.

The train came to a halt on a winding road, directly beneath a number of machicoulis and protruding bulwarks, from which men with drawn bows and spears at the ready mistrustfully stared down at them. A
gruff-looking
man wearing plain armor stepped out from a small door in the heavily fortified gate, and was listening to Heribert when Michel rode up.

When Michel walked to the front, the Junker turned around and introduced him. “This is our leader, Knight of the Reich Michel Adler!”

The other man squinted and stared at Michel in shock, then started to laugh. “Well, I’ll be damned! It really is you. I didn’t want to believe it when this sapling here mentioned your name, as everyone here has believed you dead for more than two years!”

The man’s voice sounded familiar, but Michel had to look twice before recognizing the aged man in front of him as his former neighbor from Rheinsobern. “Sir Konrad von Weilburg! How do you come to be in such a remote place?”

“I have your successor and his scheming wife to thank for that. The two of them spread lies and slandered me to the count palatine. In his anger, Lord Ludwig ordered me here to the Bohemian border to support his cousin Johann in his fight against the Hussites. He’s responsible for this part of the Upper Palatinate.” The lord of the castle grimaced. “But it didn’t get the Banzenburg riffraff very far, as Sir Manfred couldn’t keep his hands off the count’s money. After he’d lost your fortune, and that of your wife . . .”

Here, Konrad von Weilburg broke off and lowered his head. “Forgive me, Sir Michel. I didn’t mean to sadden you, but you’ve probably already heard that Lady Marie gave birth to a daughter and then disappeared without a trace.”

“Not quite without a trace, Sir Konrad.” Marie walked up to the knight, carrying Trudi in her arms.

His mouth fell open in surprise, and he rubbed his forehead in confusion. Finally remembering his duties as host, he called out to his men to open the gate, and Michel nodded at the speed with which his order was carried out. Sir Konrad clearly had his men under control, and after Michel had walked up the twisted path that ran through the double sets of gates and had observed the soldiers in the extremely tidy courtyard, his initial impression was confirmed. This castle was no ordinary knight’s home defended by serfs on horseback and peasants, but a border fortress to stop Hussites on one of the main roads into the Upper Palatinate. Since Michel hadn’t seen a village or fields nearby, he asked Konrad how his soldiers appeared so well fed without the help of farmers.

“The pious brothers from the nearby monastery of Saint Ötzen provide us with food, and in return we protect them and their servants,” Sir Konrad explained contentedly.

Marie interrupted excitedly. “I just heard you say that Lady Kunigunde’s husband had angered the count palatine?”

“You could certainly say that, Lady Marie! That first year, the greedy Banzenburgs restrained themselves and only stole a small part of the dues, but the following year, they bought a profitable benefice for their son Matthias with the count palatine’s money. As you can well imagine, when Lord Ludwig heard about what had happened, he sent Master Steinbrecher to audit Sobernburg Castle, and Lady Kunigunde was stupid enough to try to bribe the man. And you know Steinbrecher—he couldn’t even be bought with the treasures of Solomon.”

Marie nodded and laughed. Steinbrecher had even managed to make her and Michel uncomfortable, although their accounts had always been correct and they had no doubt paid the count a guilder more rather than less. Only a
thick-skinned
person like Kunigunde von Banzenburg would have gotten the idea to bribe that man. “And what happened to Banzenburg?”

“He was also sent to the Upper Palatinate and is now captain of Bernburg Castle, about a day’s ride north of here. So he shares my fate, except I don’t have to deal with a quarrelsome wife and an unhappy flock of children. I’ve never been rich, and once this war is over, I’m hoping Lord Ludwig will give me a piece of land where I can settle a few farmers. That would be quite enough for me.”

While tables and benches were set up in the servants’ kitchen and the courtyard for the rest of the group, the host led his
high-ranking
guests into his great hall, where his wife was already organizing maids to set the tables. When Marie and Michel entered, her head jerked up, and she stared at the couple as if seeing ghosts, her mouth hanging open. Her husband laughed and walked over to her, lovingly placing his hand on her back. “You even surpass me in your amazement, Irmingard. It really is Sir Michel and Lady Marie.”

His wife cautiously reached out to touch Marie. When she felt solid flesh beneath her fingers, she sighed in relief and hugged Marie, tears running down her cheeks. “I’m so glad you and Sir Michel are still alive. My husband and I always regretted not helping you when the Banzenburg witch tortured you.”

“She would just have given you an abusive reply, or told you everything was fine.” Marie waved dismissively. “I’m very glad we happened upon you and your husband, Lady Irmingard, and hope you’ll allow us to stay for a few days. We’re all in need of some rest, and I badly need to sew some new dresses for myself.”

The mistress of the castle looked at the dress Marie had put together from scraps of fabric, in the fashion of itinerant merchants. Countess Sokolny had offered her several pieces from her wardrobe before they left, but none of them had fit or was suitable for a long journey.

Lady Irmingard appeared eager to help Marie make new clothes. “Before we came here, I bought fabric and plenty of accessories in Nuremberg, as I wasn’t sure whether merchants would make it to this remote place, and there’s a cloth that will suit you beautifully. My handmaid and I will assist you. Sir Michel should make use of my maids’ sewing skills as well, since his current outfit isn’t suitable for a knight of the Reich.”

Michel smiled at her. “I’ll gladly accept your offer, Lady Irmingard, but don’t underestimate the clothes I’m wearing. It’s the garb of a warrior, and it has served me well over the past few months.”

“I didn’t mean to offend you, Sir Michel.” She flushed red and turned away to greet Count Sokolny, Heinrich von Hettenheim, and Junker Heribert. Then she invited Marie, Madlenka Sokolna, and Janka to follow her to the lady’s chambers so they could wash by the fire. On their way, they met a
round-faced
man in a dark gray habit.

“Forgive me, Lady Irmingard, for appearing so late, but I was deep in prayer.” He quickly hid the piece of sausage he was holding behind his back.

“You missed the arrival of our
high-ranking
guests, Venerable Father,” the mistress replied with an understanding smile.

Before the monk could reply, Countess Madlenka grabbed his hand. “Are you a priest?” she asked excitedly in Czech, repeating her question in German.

The castle’s chaplain gave her a friendly nod. “I’ve been ordained to look after people’s souls, my lady.”

The countess’s eyes sparkled. “That’s wonderful, Venerable Father! You know, we’ve had to live without a priest for a long time, as the man we’d entrusted with the care of our souls betrayed the church and defected to the Hussites. So we haven’t heard Mass or confessed our sins for a while now.”

The priest felt her longing for the holy rites and blessed her. “If you wish, I’ll say Mass for you and hear your confession, my lady.”

Devoutly lowering her head, the countess also waved Janka over. “Please bless my daughter as well, Venerable Father.”

The priest again made the sign of the cross, stuffed the rest of the sausage into his mouth, and hurried away. Marie watched the man as he left, and shook her head. Her hostess gently rested her hand on Marie’s arm. “Don’t judge Father Josephus for his appetite, Lady Marie. He does his duty as a priest, helps the sick, and gives comfort where he can. He’ll say Mass daily starting tonight and hear the confession of all who ask for it.”

While the countess and her daughter were pleased at this news, Marie was less enthusiastic. She didn’t want to reveal her innermost thoughts to a stranger, but she also didn’t want people to think she was stained by the Bohemian heresy. She therefore decided to use the priest’s services, but only to tell him things she would have shared with a casual acquaintance at the count palatine’s court. Pushing aside her unpleasant thoughts, she eagerly anticipated a fragrant, warm bath and a dinner that wasn’t just potluck.

11.

Marie nervously tugged at her dress and brushed nonexistent dust off her sleeve, but despite her anxious fidgeting, she was happy with her appearance. The mirror Anni was holding showed her slightly tanned
well-shaped
face, large blue eyes, and an even nose, crowned by golden hair underneath a
two-winged
bonnet adorned with a delicate veil. She had never worn a more magnificent dress than the dark red gown she had sewn with the help of Lady Irmingard and her maids. Initially she hadn’t been comfortable spending so much money on fabric and adornments, but Michel had insisted she dress as impressively as possible. Luckily, they hadn’t been dependent on Marie’s few remaining gold coins, since as an officer, Michel had received part of the loot from the battle, including gold from Vyszo’s war chest. Thanks to that money, they could appear at the kaiser’s court looking appropriate for their rank.

Michel looked no less splendid than Marie. He wore a doublet of dark blue velvet, stitched with gold thread at the sleeves and collar, and tights of the same color. On his head he wore a light blue beret with a dark blue feather. Marie thought he looked impressive and lightly kissed his cheek. “No matter how this day ends, I love you!”

“Me, too.”

“What? Love you?” Marie asked with a wink.

“No, you!” Michel pulled her close and kissed her.

Marie reached up to her shifting bonnet with a soft cry. “Careful! You’re ruining Helene and Anni’s hard work. They’ve made a huge effort.”

“You vain woman!” Michel teased, holding out his arm. “Come. We don’t want to make His Majesty wait.”

Marie curtsied with perfect grace and took his arm. Rushing ahead, Michi opened the door for them. Dressed as a page, the boy wore dark red tights he kept tugging at and a dark blue doublet stitched with silver thread at the seams. His fair hair was neatly brushed back, and his face was cleaner than it had been in weeks. He hadn’t quite gotten used to his new role as a page boy yet, however, as he walked through the door ahead of Michel and Marie rather than waiting with a slight bow for them to proceed first.

They walked down a brightly lit corridor lined with dozens of oil lamps, and met Sokolny, who was wearing the opulent robe of a Bohemian nobleman and hadn’t spared velvet or silk. He was accompanied by Countess Madlenka and Janka, the mother wearing a dark green dress and the daughter a light green one, both sparkling with family jewelry that had been worn on official occasions for generations. Sir Heinrich and Junker Heribert, who shared a chamber, also stepped into the hallway to join their friends. They looked as plain as partridges compared to Michel and the count, but they wore new clothes that were appropriate for men of rank about to appear before the kaiser.

Marie instinctively glanced around for her friends who were looking after Trudi, hoping they’d come to say
good-bye
. But there was no sign of them. In order not to appear disrespectful, their host family had probably retreated to the big kitchen in the back of the house together with the servants, where all were undoubtedly providing Anni, Helene, and the other guests’ retinues with food, drink, and the latest gossip.

While the farmers and most of the Falkenhain soldiers had stayed behind at Konrad von Weilburg’s castle, Michel, Marie, and the other nobles had arrived three days before in Nuremberg with a small retinue and a few soldiers as guards. Even though almost all the Reich’s great lords were staying in Nuremberg for the Imperial Diet that Sigismund had convened, Michel’s group had found ample accommodations at the house of a Nuremberg merchant who was more than happy to earn a few extra guilders. He had given his best rooms to the nobles, and part of his attic, where he usually stored his most precious goods, to their retinue. From here the guests could easily access the imposing magisterial building where the kaiser resided, walking through the garden and a narrow lane without having to expose themselves to prying eyes in the street.

So far, Sokolny had been the only one to leave the house and ask for an audience with the kaiser. He’d been admitted and amiably received. According to the report he gave on his return, Sigismund had been highly interested in the proposals of the Bohemian Calixtines. Marie wasn’t surprised, as her friendly and devoted hosts had told her that Sigismund’s request for a general levy to raise a standing army of mercenaries had been denied by the princes of the Reich yet again. None of those noble lords, not even those who’d only attained their rank thanks to this kaiser, wished for such a significant increase in his power. Therefore, no one had voted for his proposal except for his
son-in
-law
and designated successor, Albrecht of Austria.

Marie shook her head at such a lack of foresight. She was fed up with the war and the feuds among the nobility, and she thought an increase in the kaiser’s power would help make the Reich safer and ensure peace.

But she hadn’t even been able to convince Michel of her opinion. In his heart, he was still the count palatine’s man, who didn’t want to see the count’s influence in the Reich diminished. When they reached the antechamber of the large audience hall, Marie pushed her idle thoughts aside, as she wanted to focus on her family’s own fate just then.

When they reached the kaiser’s rooms, a herald wearing a surcoat adorned with the imperial eagle and the Bohemian lion approached them and asked for their names. Sokolny exchanged a brief glance with Michel and introduced himself and his family; then Heinrich von Hettenheim and Junker Heribert also gave their names, before Michel explained to the herald that he was Knight of the Reich Michel Adler and the lady at his side his wife, Marie. The herald raised his eyebrows in disbelief, and it was obvious that he wanted to ply them with questions. But he forced himself to keep quiet, instead motioning for two servants to open the doors and leading the guests past four guards in shining armor.

The hall seemed huge to Marie, probably because the only furniture inside was the kaiser’s throne and the chairs of the
highest-ranking
lords. Marie grinned, thinking about how those chairs had been the objects of so many bitter arguments. Each of the noble lords wanted to outdo the others, and their followers fought more passionately about the height of the backrests and the number of decorative gemstones than their masters fought about political issues.

Scanning the hall, Marie recognized a few familiar faces, connecting coats of arms to individual people and families. The young Counts of Württemberg were present, as were the count palatine, the elector of Saxony, and the Dukes of Bavaria. Dietmar von Arnstein, a knight and friend from her days as a wandering harlot, had arrived with the Württemberg retinue. Since he almost never traveled without his wife, Lady Mechthild was probably also there, and Marie was looking forward to seeing her again.

The herald stopped a few paces in front of the kaiser. Though dressed majestically in his usual red and gold, he was slumped down on his throne with a gray, sunken face, and he seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. The court official stepped to the side so that Sigismund could see his visitors. “Count Wenzel von Falkenhain with his wife and daughter,” he said, introducing Václav by his German name.

Sigismund graciously nodded at the count, then glanced at the others. On seeing Michel, he struggled to get up, staring at him
wide-eyed
.

“Knight of the Reich Michel Adler with his wife,” the herald shouted into the hall.

Michel had managed to keep the news of his survival a secret until then, and the kaiser shook his head in confusion.

His face softening, Sigismund looked like a man who’d just seen a good omen. He jumped to his feet and walked joyfully toward Michel. “By God the Almighty, will wonders never cease! Welcome back, Sir Michel! I’m glad to see you alive and well. Where have you been for all these months?”

“At Falkenhain Castle, to preserve it for Your Majesty. It is only thanks to him I can stand in front of you today,” Count Sokolny explained for Michel.

Marie wasn’t paying any attention to the kaiser or to the conversation, but rather gazed along the rows of gaping noblemen until she spotted Falko von Hettenheim, who had been talking to his
father-in
-law
, Rumold von Lauenstein, but was now staring at Michel
open-mouthed
. His bewilderment turned to horror when he recognized her as well.

A satisfied smile darted across Marie’s face. Tugging at Michel’s sleeve, she tilted her chin at Falko. “As nice as it is to stand before the kaiser, don’t forget our enemy!”

“What enemy?” asked Sigismund, who’d heard the word despite Marie’s muted voice.

Michel straightened up, and his calm voice seemed to echo from the walls. “The knight Falko von Hettenheim! I hereby accuse him of dishonorable conduct. Out of envy and malevolence, he intentionally abandoned me on the battlefield when I was wounded, so that I’d fall into the Hussites’ hands.”

Falko winced as if he’d been whipped, then pushed his way to the front through the rows of noblemen, his face twisted in anger. “You’ll pay with your life for that slur, you innkeeper’s brat!”

“Since the kaiser deemed me worthy of becoming a knight of the Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation, your words are an insult to him as well,” Michel replied evenly.

Seething with fury, Falko gripped the hilt of his sword while Michel remained perfectly composed. Sigismund’s eyes darted between Michel and Falko, and he furrowed his brow. Highly superstitious, the kaiser interpreted Michel’s return as a sign that heaven was ready to place Bohemia’s crown on his head once again. The message Václav Sokolny had brought was a chance for him to get the Bohemian nobility back on his side, and he wouldn’t let anyone spoil that opportunity. Remembering rumors that Sir Falko had slaughtered defenseless Bohemian peasants rather than fighting the Hussite enemy, the kaiser assumed those people wholeheartedly hated Falko, and he realized he’d have to sacrifice the knight if he wanted to ensure the Bohemian nobles’ gratitude and loyalty. It wasn’t hard for him to make that sacrifice, as the older Hettenheim had promised much but delivered little, while Michel Adler had served him well and was possibly the driving force behind the Calixtines’ peace offering.

The kaiser raised his hand to silence his chattering court. “A knight’s honor has been attacked,” he began, narrowing his eyes as Sir Falko’s friends noisily exclaimed their approval. But they soon quieted down when Sigismund continued in a stern voice. “If Michel Adler’s accusation is true, then a damnable crime has taken place against him, which can only be atoned for by death.”

Falko von Hettenheim howled with anger. “Lies, nothing but scurrilous lies!”

Marie pushed to the front so she could face the man.

“I don’t think so, Sir Knight! When I was searching for my husband, I spoke to many who denied your honor and courage and blamed you for my husband’s disappearance.”

“Bah! What nonsense! Who pays any attention to the words of a whore?” Falko von Hettenheim tried to clothe himself in arrogance, but his voice was trembling, and his words only further infuriated the kaiser.

“I declared Lady Marie a noblewoman of the Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation, and whoever defames her insults a sacred person! You will have to answer with your lance, Sir Falko.”

Falko realized he’d lost the kaiser’s favor and that his word at court was now worth less than that of a servant. “I’ll dispatch to hell any knight who dares to challenge me!”

“I dare!” Heribert von Seibelstorff shouted loudly.

Michel placed his hand on the Junker’s shoulder and shook his head. “I honor your motives, but this is my fight. I have to do now what I didn’t do three years ago, thereby bringing grief and misery to so many people. I swear I will kill this traitor and slanderer, and then go on a pilgrimage to the Fourteen Holy Helpers at Staffelstein to atone for my guilt at the death of all those innocent people.”

“The only way you’ll make it there is in a coffin, innkeeper’s brat!” Falko von Hettenheim jeered, and looked around for approval, but his peers turned away, not deigning to look at him anymore.

Taking stock of his enemy, Michel noted with satisfaction that the man had become plump and portly, and moved with a certain heaviness, suggesting a lack of exercise. Falko could afford more lavish clothes than were appropriate for a simple knight, and his rings were adorned with gemstones like those worn by princes. Michel wondered how many people had been murdered and robbed for that splendor, and he felt his hatred for that man threatening to suffocate him.

He stepped toward Falko, took off his right glove, and slapped it in his enemy’s face. “I challenge you to mortal combat, Falko von Hettenheim, as I’m eager to liberate the world from you.”

Sir Falko turned as white as a sheet and didn’t move. But when Michel turned his back to assess Sigismund’s reaction to his challenge, Falko went to draw his sword. Before he could fully unsheathe it, János, the kaiser’s bodyguard, whipped out his own sword and held it to the man’s throat. Sheathing his sword again with an angry snort, Falko found himself surrounded by several knights looking at him with contempt.

The knight Dietmar von Arnstein put his hands on his hips. “That was truly dishonorable!”

The kaiser asked his confessor to say a prayer, and folded his hands. Then looking at Falko in disgust, he stated his decision. “Sir Michel and you will ride into the lists tomorrow, so God can reward the just and punish the unjust.”

“I’m ready,” Michel declared plainly.

“Tomorrow you will die, you dog!” Sir Falko exclaimed, spitting on the ground before brusquely turning away.

Grasping Michel’s arm, Marie gazed at him with sparkling eyes. “You will beat him! I’m certain of it.”