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Authors: Juliet Waldron

Nightingale (38 page)

BOOK: Nightingale
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"I shouldn't, but I’m going to that fortune teller."

"I've been thinking how happy you look today. Really, Klara, from what I know, it's for almost the first time in your life. Why risk spoiling it?"

"Well, isn't it possible the future could be good?"

"Well, yes, of course. I do have a black view of life. I'm always waiting for the next blow to land."

Klara, however, had made up her mind. She got up and approached the gypsies, just now unoccupied.

As she advanced, the woman's eyes met hers. They were flat black, like the eyes of the Negro slaves Max kept at his Italian villa.

"Your fortune, Jungfrau?" The woman spoke a heavily accented German, responding to the clothing Klara wore.

"Yes, good Frau."

Taking a silver kreutzer bit from her pocket, she offered it. She hoped it would be enough. There was a slight hesitation as the eyes studied the Austrian money. Then, a dirty brown hand snatched it up.

"A question about love?"

"More about the future, about the course of my life."

After she'd nodded understanding, she said to Klara, "You must be the one to shuffle the cards."

The pack was handed over. Amalie had come trailing behind, but seeing the reading already begun, discreetly sat down at a nearby empty chair.

"When do I stop?"

"Until you feel they have become yours."

Klara concentrated and did as she was told. The cards were old, heavy, and oily to the touch. At first shuffling was not easy, but after a few minutes she got the knack of it.

"Now, Jungfrau, when you are ready, set them down and cut them in two."

Klara neatly separated them into equal piles.

"Now put one pile on top of the other."

A silence followed while the woman regarded not the cards, but Klara. Then, with deliberation, she picked up the stack and began to lay them out upon the cloth. Like the cards, the cloth was embroidered with mysterious signs: triangles and spirals, eyes and stars.

The first card down was a shock, for what should Klara see but
the Devil, horns, fiery eyes, hooves and tail. Before she could quite absorb this, clearly a card of ill omen, another card came down. This was rather like the King in an ordinary deck, except that he was enthroned and held a large cup.

In quick succession the Gypsy dealt the rest. One depicted three chalices. Below she laid another face card, this time a knight on a red horse carrying a leafy staff. To the right of this figure was a ten, man carrying a sword.

Then last four were laid down off to one side, and in a straight row: a loving couple, eight stars, four staffs. Last of all came an ace, a mysterious sword held by an arm emerging from a cloud.

Why
, Klara thought,
did I ever start this?
From the little she knew, she understood that this cast did not look good.

The gypsy raised her black eyes. "Some good and some bad. The bad comes soon."

Klara stared at the cards. They seemed to glow. A dirty nailed brown finger pointed at the first card.

"See here! Devil means danger and trouble, a thing behind you now. It isn't your fault, but something evil, something woven deep in your life line, is going to catch up with you."

Every hair on the back of Klara's neck promptly stood up.

"Will he get me?" She was as terrified as a child caught in a nightmare.

"The Devil always hits his mark. He's like a big wind. All you can do is bend and pray you don't break when he blows through. Now, this next card is the knight who will fight the Devil for you. He is a dark man with a craft by which he makes his living. And," she smiled, "I see him behind us, with his fiddle, your handsome Magyar husband."

Although she tried not to, Klara shivered from head to foot. She wanted to bolt away from this little dark woman, but she felt rooted to the spot.

"This is happiness," the gypsy said, pointing to the crowning card. "A little bright time, maybe right now." Broken teeth flashed.

"Are you new married, lady?"

"Yes."

"Well, this one, this King, he is a fair man, a man from your past. He is a gray
-eyed man, very powerful and very rich. See, here he is reversed, full of cruelty, bent on wickedness. He is the one through whom the Devil works.”

Klara swallowed hard. This was no riddle!

"He is the danger you see coming?"

"Yes. He is also the corner stone upon which your fortune sits. Next, is what is coming." The gypsy shook her head. "Ten of swords. You will suffer a defeat. I warn you, lady
– it will be soon and very bad."

It was as if someone was inside her skull, trying to smash their way out.

"Here you are with your man, the card of the lovers. It is true, is it not?" The black, black eyes turned towards her slyly. "You have the love where souls join."

Her t
ears welled.

Springtime, and with it, her sense of freedom, her happiness, shriveling
….

"Eight of pentacles. Something well begun may suddenly end. The card below is your hopes and fears. You imagine tranquility in a new life, but you worry, too. Perhaps you fear that the bonds of marriage will grow too tight. But that is your fate, is it not? For a woman it does not matter whether she is rich or poor; some man will be her master."

Klara could neither force a sound from her tightening throat or stand and run away.

"This is the last card, what will come. Ace of swords is here, a card of hard beginnings."

Klara stared, mesmerized, at the naked arm holding a sword and emerging from a cloud.

"A beginning? At the end?"

"Yes, that is often the way. Swords are a hard suit, lady, and there are many here. They bring us trouble and trials, even when they open a door. There will be force, even violence, surrounding this end, but, at the same time, something good will also begin. Sometimes," she added, gazing at Klara, "this card tells of a child. Whatever it means, it will be a new path for you, a time from which the rest of your future springs. So, Jungfrau," she ended, "while it seems that you should not despair, you and your man must be on your guard."

Then the gypsy raised her eyes to focus on someone coming up behind Klara.

"Klara!

Akos!

She leapt from the low wall and ran into his arms, buried her spinning head against his shoulder. It didn't matter what anyone thought about the public display of affection. All she wanted was to fill her senses with his warm, living presence, to pray that the touch of him would drown out her terror.

 

***

 

"I can't think of anything else."

"I know. But we won't be able to leave here until the day after tomorrow, when the boatmen get sober enough to take us to Gyor. From there we will travel to a little town where Prince Vehnsky keeps a house and some horses. Another day's journey and we shall reach his estate."

"I've never sat on a horse in my life."

"There is a cart. You and Amalie will go in that."

They were alone in the darkened room, in the bed with painted flowers on the headboard, the one where they'd shared so many pleasures. Rowdy songs rose from the street below. Lights shone on the ceiling as torches passed below.

"How I wish I had never gone to her!"

"Well, perhaps it's good you did. I won't say that I absolutely believeeven with past experience, but the fact remains that we have not been prudent, stopping here for so long."

Neither husband nor wife slept well. Just at dawn, they rose, washed in the basin and dressed. Going out hand in hand, Akos took Klara to hear Mass again.

Klara was surprised, on the way, to pass a plain white painted Protestant church.She had never lived where such beliefs were tolerated, but Akos explained that was the rule in her new country. In fact, he said, his wise Grandfather Almassy was among these heretics.

The young people in church this morning were profoundly tired. Incense rose in clouds, and the atmosphere was thick in every way. Klara prayed fervently, gazing towards the flower-decked altar, choosing as the object of her prayers the Blessed Elizabeth of Hungary, whose statue stood nearby. She also prayed, as usual, to the Blessed Mother.

Could these two heavenly ladies save them? Save her new won, precious freedom?

As they made their way back to the inn, they were buffeted by a fresh wind which had sprung up while they'd been at Mass. The eastern sky was full of rushing clouds, all dyed a horrible black.

"Bad weather," Akos said, gazing east. "The river will be in a roil. Just as well we aren't to travel."

As they broke their fast, the rain began, slow and steady at first and then, later, with some violence. It did not end, either, but pattered on and on, bringing with it a gray afternoon. In the end they went back to bed and stayed there, drifting in and out of sleep, and listening to the steady dripping as water dropped from the dormers.

Klara was nauseated, feeling gray as the day. Akos got up several times and brought her food and wine, but Klara couldn’t manage much more than a taste. Her mind was rushing with thoughts, like the river below.

“My darling,” she finally said, touching his hand, “I should just return to him.”

“Klara! What madness is this?”

“This is not madness. What is madness was to believe I could escape him. The cards showed him, that he is on his way with his men to take us. They showed me your danger. You, my beloved, must not sacrifice your life for me. I am not worth it.”

“Klara….”

“I have been his harlot, Akos. I have done things
– shameful things, with others, too, for his … entertainment.”

“Klara! You don’t have to tell me any of it. That is over
– past!”

“But I should have told you as soon as I saw that you truly loved me, should have confessed what I am, that I am unworthy of any honest man’s love.”

She hung her head, but he seized her shoulders and shook her fiercely.

“And who says I am so honest? Did I not serve lust when I was Madame Wranitzsky’s toy? I was full of pride then, strutting like a cock of the yard, although I only served her vanity. Then, in Vienna, I heard you sing and was full of desire for you, too, just as it had been with her. I wanted to bed a young goddess. I wanted to show the world that not only was I a swordsman, a physician, a musician, but a lover, too. I wanted to best my proud and scornful cousins in every way I could
– to show that I, though their servant, was more man than any of them.”

Through her tears, Klara watched his proud handsome face harden over the words. “No! No!” she cried.

“Yes, Klara! Yes!”

She covered her face with her hands and tried to turn away, but he held her, his grasp as relentless as ever the Count’s had been. As she sobbed, he began speaking again, this time more gently.

“Ah, but then I saw you, my Klara, truly saw you, that day in the Baron’s rooms. You were so lost, so ill, so hopeless! I’d worn the potion to lure you, but when I saw your sweet face, I knew that I had been a despicable blackguard. I saw Death standing by your shoulder, and suddenly I knew, yes, I knew, that I’d risk anything – even my life – to save you. Not just your voice, my angel, but you, just you!”

There was a pause in which Klara’s tears quieted and Akos drew her close. Her arms slipped around his slim, hard body, and they held each other, a moment of silence in the room.

“You can still love your fallen woman, then, my brave Akos?”

“You are my lady, my wife. We have already sworn it, before the priest. It is ‘til death do us part.”

 

***

 

The following day dawned brighter. At the dock, a ferryman took them across. Watching the pretty town recede as they rode upon the water, Klara felt a wave of relief and some anticipation. They had, at last, entered the last part of their journey to Komarom.

Perhaps, after all, it would be well….

 

 

Chapter
24

 

 

The seven armed horsemen overtook them as they traveled through a stand of trees. Their livery of black and silver showed that they were the private guard of Count Oettingen. Their cart was stopped, the occupants ordered out, and they saw that the Count himself had come.

"Well, Concertmaster! As you defeated my men in the street, I’ve brought a few more for you to try. Let's see how well you fight when it isn't a street brawl."

"
Mein Herr
Count! I entreat you! Please, no!" Klara fell to her knees on the ground before him. "Please!"

"Silence!" Max dismounted easily. "You've made me the laughingstock of Vienna, Klara, so don't imagine you won’t pay for it. Besides, it seems that husband of yours has some mettle. This time, I’ll be the one to test it."

"Mein Herr Count – no!”

BOOK: Nightingale
12.8Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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