Iny Lorentz - The Marie Series 02 (27 page)

4.

Half an hour later, Sokolny was sitting at the upper end of the table in the tower room, surveying his faithful men, who included Michel, Ludvik, Feliks Labunik, his captain of the castle Marek Lasicek, and four other men. Their faces looked grim, almost shocked, and only a few seemed to have the courage and determination necessary to face the Hussites. The German was ready for it, but the count hadn’t expected anything else. Marek, too, looked ready for battle, while Labunik was as pale and gaunt as if an angel from God had announced his imminent death.

The count met their eyes, one by one, as if trying to appeal to their soldier’s honor. “Until today my brother and good friends have managed to protect us, even though we’ve had almost nothing to give them in return. Those days are over now. Little Prokop and Vyszo lust for our blood, and they won’t rest until they’ve destroyed us. But we certainly won’t surrender voluntarily. If they want to kill us, they’ll have to pay a heavy price.”

Labunik exhaled loudly. “Your words are noble and brave. But what can we achieve against the Taborite marauders with our few men?”

“We can defend our walls,” Michel rebuked him, “and if God is with us, we’ll send them home with bloody heads.”

“Then they’ll come back next year and kill us,” Labunik burst out.

“Do you want to just sit there and wait until the Taborites are at our gates? Then you might as well put a noose around your neck and welcome them in a shroud! I’m planning on making my end as miserable as possible for them. Therefore, I will send a message to King Sigismund and ask him for help. I’m sure he won’t deny it.” Sokolny saw how his men straightened up on hearing that, and even Labunik’s face regained some of its color.

“If you’re going to send a message to the king, you should do it soon, while the cold is keeping the enemy in its camps.”

“That’s what I intend to do, Feliks. A group will leave Falkenhain tomorrow to present my plea to the kaiser.” Sokolny glimpsed Michel raising his hand, and he turned to him apologetically. “I know you’d like to return to your people to solve the mystery of your origin, Frantischek, but I can’t do without you here. I need your knowledge and experience, even though you don’t know where you acquired them. Feliks and Marek will be my messengers.”

Marek Lasicek smiled at Michel. “Be happy you can stay in the warm castle, Nemec, while we have to fight our way westward through the icy mountains of the Bohemian Forest.”

Though he was sure that a trip to the kaiser would have lifted the shadows lying over his past, Michel accepted the count’s decision. Labunik might be a good steward, but he was no warrior, and though Marek was an outstanding soldier, he had no experience preparing a castle for the attack of a far superior army. Michel, on the other hand, had demonstrated his military knowledge many times, so now the count didn’t want to do without him.

After giving Labunik and Marek further instructions, Sokolny sent them to choose men to take along. Then he retreated to write a letter to the kaiser. Michel considered following Labunik and Marek, but instead decided to keep to himself. Fetching the coat and thick boots he’d left outside the kitchen, he was about to climb the tower again. Just then, Sokolny’s daughter, Janka, appeared in front of him, clasping his hands. “I’m glad you’re staying here, Frantischek.”

Michel stared at her in surprise, wondering how she had managed to hear about the plans so quickly. It looked like the habit of eavesdropping was rather common in Falkenhain. Smiling indulgently, he tried to assuage her fears. “You don’t have to worry, mistress. I’m sure the kaiser will send help.”

She let out a bitter laugh. “Do you really believe that? Which of the cities still loyal to him has he helped so far? Didn’t they all regret having called Sigismund their king in the face of the Taborite morning stars? So why do you think he’d care what happens to a small and insignificant castle like Falkenhain?”

Before Michel could reply, she wrapped her arms around him and pressed her lips on his. Shocked, he pushed her away. “You can’t do that, mistress!”

“I don’t want to die without having known love!” she cried passionately.

“You certainly won’t die without love, mistress. You’ll soon find a brave nobleman and be very happy.”

“A nobleman? One like Feliks, perhaps?” Her voice was full of contempt.

Thanks to a lack of other suitors, Michel knew that Labunik had hopes of becoming Sokolny’s
son-in
-law
. Michel also approved of that match, hoping it would defray her feelings for him. Even if the count had been willing to give his daughter to a nameless adventurer without much to recommend him except a good sword hand, marriage was out of the question for him. He had kindly feelings for Janka, but his heart stayed silent when he looked at her. There was room for only one woman in his thoughts, and her name was Marie.

“Mistress, you shouldn’t be standing in the open door in this cold! Go back to your rooms. Now you’ll have to excuse me—I need to check on the guards,” Michel said with a nod. As he walked over to the tower and carefully climbed the stairs, he told himself that the Hussites weren’t his biggest problem just then.

5.

Winter hung on stubbornly that year, but the Hussite troops raided German lands despite ice and snow. The news reaching the kaiser wasn’t any worse than in previous years, but weakened by age and the years of fruitless fighting for his crown, he took it as an evil portent. Though he didn’t have the strength to stomach another campaign, he also knew all too well that the princes of the Reich were waiting for any sign of vulnerability to refuse their allegiance once and for all, with the burgrave of Nuremberg leading the way. Sigismund blamed Friedrich most of all for refusing his allegiance in the early years of the Bohemian rebellion and instead taking part in the fights among the Bavarian dukes. The kaiser didn’t care which lord ruled over their smaller lands. What mattered to him was the crown of Bohemia he wanted to pass on to his
son-in
-law
and later to a grandson.

Added to Sigismund’s great disappointment, the union of his daughter Elizabeth and Habsburg Albrecht hadn’t yet been blessed by a son. Taking this as another sign of his own demise, the kaiser had recently gone on a pilgrimage to pray at the tomb of Kaiser Heinrich II, who had been declared a saint, and his wife, Kunigunde, and to ask for strength to once again wear his crown with dignity. The trip had exhausted him so greatly that he was afraid his end was near when he arrived, and he had been recovering for the past few weeks in the fortified hunting lodge the bishop of Bamberg had placed at his disposal.

Heaving himself out of his chair, Sigismund pulled his sable fur coat more tightly around him and stepped to the window. The first warm rays of sunlight were melting the snow, but it wasn’t clear whether winter would attempt to scour the land once more with its icy blasts from the east, or whether it would finally yield to spring. Sigismund thought that he and winter had much in common: they were still fighting, but deep down they knew they were beaten.

He turned around and shuffled back to his chair. A jug of wine and a bowl of roasted quails were standing on the small table next to him. He absentmindedly grabbed one of the birds and started to eat without appetite. A servant rushed over with a damp cloth to clean his hands, but Sigismund didn’t even notice him, brooding in silence, the rest of the bird still in his hand.

Suddenly the kaiser was startled by a noise outside. Then the heavy oak doors swung open, and one of his bodyguards entered. “Your Majesty, Sir Falko von Hettenheim has just arrived along with several men from Bohemia.”

“From Bohemia you say?” The kaiser’s somber mood vanished, and he felt a tiny glimmer of hope. Could it be that his rebellious subjects had tired of the bloodshed and were willing to put down their arms? But his hopes quickly evaporated when he saw the two poorly dressed men following Falko von Hettenheim into the room. The leader, who might have been of rank, was a haggard man in his thirties whose basic surcoat looked as if a peasant woman had sewn it from hair, and his burly comrade wore the garb of only a plain foot soldier.

While Labunik and Marek stepped toward the kaiser and bowed awkwardly, Falko remained in the doorway. He had put on weight over winter and seemed grumpier than before. His wife had recently given birth to his sixth daughter, and the kaiser still hadn’t given him his
hoped-for
title and land.

Labunik felt so inhibited in the kaiser’s presence, he could barely utter a word. “Your Majesty, I . . . we . . .” Breaking off, he looked pleadingly at Marek, who cleared his throat and managed a few coherent sentences. “Your Majesty, my lord Count Václav Sokolny sends us. He is your faithful subject and has managed to secure Falkenhain Castle for you so far. Now the Taborites want to attack us, and we ask you to send us help.”

Scanning the man’s face, the kaiser saw sincere concern for his master, and he asked him about the conditions in Bohemia. Marek answered as best he could, and within a short time Sigismund had learned more about his Bohemia from this simple, good man than his closest advisers had ever been able to tell him. After Marek’s report, the kaiser leaned back thoughtfully. He didn’t know yet how to use this knowledge or in what way he could help Count Sokolny. But then his eyes fell on Falko, and he saw his opportunity to make a noble gesture. “What do you think of all this, Hettenheim?”

Falko von Hettenheim shrugged contemptuously. “I hardly believe it would make sense to send troops to save a castle so far away from any main roads. If it came to battle, the rebellious Bohemians would win, unless God in heaven can send us ten thousand fully equipped foot soldiers paid several years in advance and carrying all necessary provisions.”

“God may be able to perform miracles, but I doubt he will send us his divine army,” the kaiser replied with an admonishing look. “Wouldn’t it be possible for you to rush to Count Sokolny’s aid with your group? A handful of warriors sometimes can achieve more than a whole army.”

Falko von Hettenheim had to stop himself from giving the kaiser an improper reply. The last place he wanted to be was deep in Hussite lands where no retreat was possible, submitting to the orders of a count he didn’t know. But he knew the kaiser well enough to understand that his pride was surpassed only by his stubbornness, and he had to tread lightly. As he considered how to reply, a malicious smile flashed across his face. Then he stepped forward and bowed deeply.

“I would gladly do so, Your Majesty, but I believe that this task is less suited to a man with his own ideas than to one who is used to carrying out orders. I suggest instead sending my brave cousin Heinrich to Falkenhain Castle. He will support the count as well as he can.” Falko had to hide his grin. If the kaiser accepted his idea, he would not only be rid of his cousin who had just mockingly congratulated him on the birth of another daughter, but also Heribert von Seibelstorff, that annoying upstart, who blamed him for Marie’s disappearance and longed to cross lances.

Sigismund thought the knight’s suggestion made sense. Heinrich von Hettenheim was a brave man, and with God’s blessing he would save the Bohemian count’s life and castle. Conveniently, Heinrich was already camping near Nuremberg with his group, where the kaiser had soon planned to travel to finalize the sale of that castle, which had been severely neglected due to Burgrave Friedrich’s participation in the Bavarian wars. The sum the kaiser would receive for it wasn’t significant, but it was enough to equip a group of foot soldiers and pay them for a few months. Satisfied with this development, the kaiser smiled graciously at the two Bohemians.

“Count Sokolny didn’t send you here for nothing. One of my bravest knights, Sir Falko’s cousin Heinrich von Hettenheim, will immediately leave for Bohemia with his group to stand by your master.”

Labunik bowed again, but he was too confused to reply. On the journey there, he had wondered if he should even return to his home country at all, as every fiber of his being urged him to stay in the safety of the western Reich. Meanwhile, Marek had to keep himself from cursing, because if he returned with little more than one knight and a handful of soldiers, the dangerous trip would hardly have been worth it. He also thought it a bad omen that the proposed leader was a cousin of Falko von Hettenheim, who was notorious throughout Bohemia for his bloodlust and greed, and whose deeds had caused a few cities and many noblemen to go crawling to the Hussites.

“We thank you in the name of our master, Count Sokolny,” Marek heard Labunik say. His face was forlorn, as if he had just heard his own death sentence. Indeed, this wasn’t far from the truth, since the Czech nobleman had decided to accept his fate, returning to Falkenhain to fight and die at Sokolny’s side.

Marek, however, swore he would rather face a wild bear completely unarmed than to ever again bow his head to men like the kaiser or Falko von Hettenheim.

6.

It was the most miserable winter camp Black Eva could remember. The city of Nuremberg with its big markets and trading houses bursting with goods was only two hours away, but it might as well have been on the moon, as the soldiers, servants, harlots, and sutlers were prohibited from entering it under threat of severe punishment. Instead, the soldiers had to find housing in a small village, whose inhabitants openly detested them and hid their provisions from the army. Flour and meat were only available for gold, but hardly anyone in the camp had more than a few pennies in his purse. Even Sir Heinrich didn’t have much more left than his poorest servant, as he’d had to empty the war coffers as well as his own purse to save his people from starvation.

In addition, Marie’s disappearance still weighed heavily on those who had known her. No one from Sir Heinrich’s group could understand what had happened, and the person who might know the truth, Falko von Hettenheim, avoided the camp like the plague since his last fight with his cousin. Since neither Losen nor Marie had returned to the camp, they were both presumed dead.

Eva stared gloomily at the dirty, trampled snow covering the ground. There was a hint of spring in the air, but it was still bitterly cold. She shivered and pulled her threadbare scarf more tightly around her, the movement waking Trudi, who had fallen asleep on her lap.

Pursing her lips, the child looked up at Eva. “I’m freezing and hungry!”

Wrapping the little girl up more securely, Eva put a prune in her mouth. Trudi chewed eagerly, but her eyes were asking for more.

“You’ll get a warm meal soon,” Eva said, trying to console the girl.

The little girl wrinkled her nose. “Yes, pinecone porridge.”

Things weren’t quite that bad yet, but Trudi had called it that ever since Anselm had jokingly told her that the stew they had day after day made of water, old flour, rancid fat, and dried peas was actually made of pinecones. Sighing, Eva thought that a meal made from cones could hardly taste worse than what they were eating. If it hadn’t been for the resourcefulness of Görch, who knew his Frankish countrymen and went from village to village begging for food, they would have perished even with the provisions Sir Heinrich had bought.

“Hey, Eva! What’s the matter? Your face would curdle milk if we had any.” Theres came out of the hut the two women shared and sat down next to the old sutler. Though they had been assigned to different groups during the hasty retreat from Bohemia, like Eva, Theres had joined Sir Heinrich’s group again at the meeting place; Oda, however, had joined a merchant train headed for Worms in the hope of giving birth in Fulbert Schäfflein’s house. The other merchant women were glad to be rid of her, as she had been a troublemaker to the end.

Eva spat out the plum pit she had been sucking on for hours and turned to Theres. “I’ll look more content as soon as the kaiser gives us better quarters and pays the soldiers their outstanding wages.”

“May God grant that it happens. I can’t afford another loss like last year. Most of those who owe me money are dead or have deserted without paying.” With a bitter laugh, Theres glanced at the huts where they were all quartered. She had lived better, but she was glad to at least have a roof over her head. “Do you think the kaiser’s campaign will be more successful this year?”

“How should I know?”

“Hungry!” Trudi called out again.

Theres softly pinched the girl’s chin. “The meal is ready. I was just about to call you.”

With a sigh, Eva got to her feet and picked up Marie’s daughter. “Let’s get our bowl of pinecone porridge and hope it tastes better than it did yesterday.”

“It can hardly get worse with those ingredients.” Giving an even greater sigh, Theres returned to their hut, where a rather unappetizing mass was simmering in a large kettle. The two sutlers cooked for about twenty men, amounting to a third of the soldiers Sir Heinrich had left. The rest cooked for themselves or ate with the two aging prostitutes no other group had wanted to take.

As Theres dunked a large spoon in the gray mass and stirred once more, Eva put Trudi down and clanged together two pieces of iron. The soldiers seemed to have been waiting for that sound, as they came running out of their huts with their bowls held in front of them.
Grim-faced
, Eva took each bowl and handed it to Theres to be filled. After throwing a few pieces of dried fruit and a piece of
bone-dry
fish into each bowl, she handed them back. Junker Heribert received the same ration as everyone else. At the beginning of the winter, the young Seibelstorff had asked the kaiser to take Heinrich’s group to his nearby winter property to set up their seasonal quarters, but the kaiser had instead ordered them to stay in that village near Nuremberg.

Junker Heribert was certain that Falko von Hettenheim was behind the denied request, which didn’t particularly ease his anger at the man. But Falko was now only the first on a list of men he had to challenge to a duel to restore his honor, because when he’d tried to get food from his castle, a few imperial captains had been bold enough to intercept the wagon and keep everything for themselves, including the old wagon driver.

As on most days, Junker Heribert sat in the merchant women’s hut, glumly eating his stew. His expression smoothed when Trudi toddled toward him, and he even managed a small smile. “Well, my darling? How are you?”

Trudi climbed in his lap. “Good! But Mama is still not here, and pinecone porridge is disgusting!”

Heribert’s smile vanished. Even though Marie had been almost twice his age and far below his rank, he had planned on taking her to his castle after the Bohemian war and convincing her to become his wife. Her sudden disappearance could only mean she’d met with a cruel death at the hands of the Hussites, and since then, he’d had a festering wound in his heart that would probably never heal again.

“Where’s Sir Heinrich?” Eva asked, noticing their leader’s absence.

“He has ridden to Nuremberg to see the imperial governor and demand the supplies promised us weeks ago.” It was obvious that Anselm had wanted to accompany his master, and he was angry at himself for kindly allowing Michi to take his place at the knight’s side. Now he worried the boy might do something foolish and get Sir Heinrich in trouble.

The others also cast worried glances toward the door, as if hoping to conjure up their leader with their eyes, and, indeed, a few moments later he appeared. His broad frame had become haggard over winter, and his hair had turned gray before its time, but his eyes shone with new confidence.

“You’re already eating! That’s good, because I’m starving.” Sir Heinrich accepted a full bowl from Theres. After wolfing down a few mouthfuls to satisfy the worst of his hunger, he grinned like a rascal.

“The kaiser is back in Nuremberg. He spoke a few words to me and ordered the governor to send us fresh provisions. The first delivery is supposed to arrive this afternoon. What do you say to that?”

“I’ll only believe it when I see the flour and bacon,” Theres said.

The knight laughed. “I saw the wagon being loaded with my own eyes. And tomorrow we’re supposed to get new weapons and gear.”

Eva looked up warily. “That sounds like there’s going to be a new campaign. Has the kaiser brought an army? There are no more than five hundred men stationed around here.” She thought it odd that the kaiser had their group live in a miserable village for more than three months, in poor conditions and without the necessary provisions, then suddenly showered them with goods. But she kept her doubts to herself and asked after Michi. “I hope he served you as well as a squire should.”

Heinrich von Hettenheim reassured her. “The boy is a good, hardworking lad. As we were about to depart, he asked me if he could stay a little longer to visit a friend.”

“Probably Timo, the
one-legged
beggar. He visited him a few times before the snow. God knows why he likes the old fellow so much.”

“Apparently Timo is from the same town as he and Marie.” Heinrich made a sound—half sigh, half growl—and bared his teeth. “By the way, my honorable cousin is also back in Nuremberg.”

Junker Heribert jumped up, almost upending the wobbly table. “What are you saying? Finally! This time he won’t escape my lance!”

“Young fool, sit back down! You must get wrought and steeled before doing battle with my cousin, so be patient and don’t spoil it for yourself with unseemly haste.”

Young Seibelstorff trembled with anticipation, but he did as Heinrich said, laughing harshly. “It sounds as if you want to give him time to conceive an heir.”

Sir Heinrich placed a hand on the Junker’s shoulder. “Maybe I’m wishing him a few more daughters before he goes to hell.”

Junker Heribert waved dismissively. “He’ll probably get half a dozen maids pregnant so he can replace the next girl with a bastard son.”

“He could have done that long ago with another wife, but Hulda is much too proud of her noble bloodline to call a bastard her son.” Sir Heinrich chuckled loudly, but it was Michi who ended the argument. Shooting through the door as if wolves were chasing him, he started to talk so fast that the others could hardly understand him.

“We’re going to war! That’s what Provost Marshal Pauer said to the governor when he complained about having to open the armory for us.”

“What are you saying, boy? Something is finally happening! I’m sick and tired of this place.” Heinrich felt the paralysis and despondency of winter falling off him like an old coat, and he pulled Michi to him with a smile, ruffling his hair. “You’re a smart lad, Michi. What else did you hear?”

“Not much. They said we were to accompany some Bohemians back to their home.”

“Well, it’ll be interesting to find out what’s awaiting us,” Anselm said doubtfully. He was far less excited than his master upon hearing the news, since war implied the possibility of getting killed, and he didn’t like that prospect. Yet he would rather let himself be torn to pieces than abandon his master. “There’s a lot to do before we march. Will you help me with the preparation, Michi?”

Michi looked questioningly at Eva. “Would that be all right? I’ll come back as soon as you need me.”

Cackling, the old sutler shook her head. “Go. I won’t need you until we get provisions and I have to stow them. I only hope they’ll allow me a credit this time, or my wagon will remain empty.”

“Not just yours,” Theres snapped. “The little bit I have left from last year won’t get me far.”