Not Everything Dies

by John Patrick Kennedy

  The next night they reached Vienna, and Ruxandra nearly burned herself to a crisp trying to see it.

  She peeked out at first. Then she stared, eyes wide and mouth open. Forest gave way to fields and orchards. Farms dotted the landscape. As they drew nearer to the city, the houses grew closer together. Most were wood and stucco, their white walls gleaming below wooden shingles or thatch roofs. Others were stone, with tile roofs. Beyond them rose the thick, wide walls of the city, so different from the tall walls that surrounded Castle Csejte. . They rode closer until the buildings rose up on either side, putting the carriage in shadows.

  There were so many people in the streets riding horses and pulling handcarts. They were everywhere, and the clamor of their speech nearly overwhelmed Ruxandra. She had to pull her head back into the carriage and close her eyes.

  By the time her ears adjusted to all the noise, they were in the empty area and then crossing the Danube. She risked looking out again. The reflection of the sun from the river nearly blinded her. She squinted and tried to see anyway.

  “There’s Saint Stephen’s, missy,” the driver said to Jana. “Biggest cathedral in the city. Maybe in the whole empire.”

  Ruxandra risked another glance. On the far side of the city walls, she spotted Saint Stephen’s steeple rising from the middle of the city. Then they were across the river and through the gates to the city itself.

  So many people.

  If the outer city was noisy, inside was cacophonic. It smelled, too, of humanity, of animals and sewage and the blood of the butchers and the bakers cooking and a hundred other scents. It was rank and ripe and so, so alive. Ruxandra sat back again, trying to adjust. She wondered what it felt like, living with so many people.

  Curiosity got the better of her, and she reached out for their emotions.

  Suddenly she felt them—all of them. Every emotion, every pain, every pleasure, coming from thousands of people at once. Ruxandra barely got her hands to her mouth in time to muffle her cry of surprise and fear.

  Stop! It’s too much!

  The feelings vanished at her command. Ruxandra gasped in relief and fell back against her seat. She stayed there as the carriages rumbled toward the center of the city.

  “There,” the driver said. “The Hofburg.”

  “My lady,” called Jana. “Look! The Hofburg!”

  Ruxandra pulled the curtain back and risked another peek outside.

  The Hofburg was the royal palace of Vienna, Jana had explained, and all the streets around it were its property. At the center sat a large, square castle of pale stone that loomed over the streets. It was old and solid, unlike the beautiful newer palace to the north of it.

  “Jana!” she called up. “What is that place?”

  Jana asked the driver and called back, “It’s the Amalienburg! It’s where the Emperor stays when he comes to Vienna! We’re staying in the Stallburg!” Jana sounded excited enough to dance. “On the other side of the castle! It’s where Emperor Maximillius used to have his residence!”

  Ruxandra watched the palaces and the immaculate grounds for as long as she could before the light drove her, head aching and flesh hot, back into the darkness of the carriage. She laughed in delight at everything she saw.

  I want to visit the entire city! I want to see everything!

  The carriages went through the gates and into the massive, square block of the Stallburg. They stopped in the courtyard—in the shade, to Ruxandra’s relief. All around them were arched balconies, going up three stories and leading to the rooms of the residence. Ruxandra stepped out and stretched. Her skin felt hot. Her eyes hurt from squinting, and her head throbbed. Still, she joined the line of waiting courtiers for Elizabeth to step down from her carriage.

  As they gathered into a line, a contingent of footmen stepped out of the Stallburg to take their luggage. A pair of guards and a tall, thickly bearded man followed. He was walking with a proud, upright bearing.

  One of the footmen opened Elizabeth’s door and held out a hand. Elizabeth took it and stepped down. That morning she had dressed in style for her arrival. She wore a fine red dress, with a sumptuous blue cloak over it, and a shining white wimple.

  She smiled as she descended. “Gyorgy! How good to see you, my lord.”

  “And you, my lady,” said the big man. He bent over her hands, kissing them both. “You look radiant, and I swear, younger than the last time I saw you.”

  Ruxandra wondered if anyone knew what Elizabeth did to keep her youth, and what they would think if they did. Would they also see them as peasants, to be disposed of at Elizabeth’s whim?

  “You flatter me,” Elizabeth declared. “It’s so generous of you to meet us.”

  “How could I resist? In fact, there are many in the city who would be pleased to visit with you, if you will see them.”

  “I would very much like to,” said Elizabeth. “I want the girls at my gymnaesium to have more company. The more they have, the better they learn before coming to court and meeting suitors.”

  “I have heard a great deal about your gymnaesium,” said Gyorgy. Something in his tone made Ruxandra pay more notice, headache or not. “I’m very interested to learn more about it.”

  “Of course,” Elizabeth said. “Speaking of that, Ruxandra, come here.”

  Ruxandra went to stand beside Elizabeth. “Yes, my lady.”

  “Ruxandra, this is Gyorgy Thurzo, Palatine of Hungary and a longtime friend of my deceased husband. It was into his care we were delivered after my dear Ferenc passed. Gyorgy, this is Ruxandra, one of my newest pupils.”

  Ruxandra dropped low into the formal curtsy, as she had been taught for meeting with nobility. “My lord.”

  “A pleasure to meet you, young lady.” Gyorgy looked her up and down. “Are you happy at Elizabeth’s gymnaesium?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “Excellent.”

  “Now come, Gyorgy,” Elizabeth said. “Tell me all that has happened at court this year.” Elizabeth and Gyorgy walked into the Stallburg. The waiting line broke apart. A handsome young footman led Ruxandra and Jana to a large room with an impressive bed, ornate chairs and a table, and a good-size fireplace. To Ruxandra’s relief, the large windows faced away from the sunlight.

  She grabbed a chair, pulled it to the darkest part of the room, and sat down on it. She closed her eyes and breathed a soft sigh of relief.

  “Are you all right, my lady?” Jana asked.

  Ruxandra didn’t open her eyes. “My head hurts from all the sunlight.”

  “Lie down, my lady,” Jana said. “I’ll take care of our things.”

  She helped Ruxandra to stand, though Ruxandra didn’t need it, and gently unfastened her clothing, taking off each piece carefully. Her touch was soothing and kind, and Ruxandra felt calmer when she climbed into the bed. Jana undid the curtains and let them fall, creating a warm, dark box for Ruxandra to lie in.

  Ruxandra sighed in relief and snuggled down in the bed. She closed her eyes and listened to Jana bustling about the room. The sheets were soft linen, and the weight of the wool blankets pressed softly on her body.

  I have been awake too long, today . . .

  “My lady,” called Jana. “My Lady Ruxandra. It is evening, and Lady Bathory wishes to see you. Your dress is ready, and I will brush your hair.”

  Ruxandra blinked awake, stretched, and smiled. The headache had faded, and she felt delightful. “Are we to go out?”

  “To a concert!” Jana was nearly bouncing, even though she wouldn’t get to go. “Lady Elizabeth said to be ready in an hour.”

  An hour later, cleaned, brushed, and wearing her prettiest dress—dark green with white stitching along the sleeves and collar, worn under a cape of deeper green—Ruxandra stepped out of the Stallburg. An open-topped carriage pulled by four horses stood before the foyer, with an escort of two knights before and behind, all carrying torches. Elizabeth was seated inside. She wore a beautiful blue dress, stitched with gold brocade across the b
odice, and black fur cape over it. The rich coils of her hair spread out against the fur. Even sitting in the carriage, she looked stunning. Regal, Ruxandra thought, not for the first time.

  She smiled as Ruxandra stepped inside. “How are you, my dear?”

  “Very good,” Ruxandra said. “I had a headache earlier, but it’s gone now.”

  “I see.” Elizabeth sat back in her seat and signaled the driver. He whistled once, and the knights and carriage started moving. “How is your servant girl?”

  “Quite well.” The carriage rolled out of the Stallburg into the streets. Even now, in the dark, people moved about, carrying torches or small lanterns. In the distance, a bright yellow glow lit up the streets and the sky.

  “Is that so?” Elizabeth smiled at Ruxandra. “Because I told you to feed on her. Which invites the question: why didn’t you?”

  ELIZABETH’S TONE WAS flat and angry. “I told you to stay inside and not hunt.”

  Ruxandra winced. “I like her. She’s nice, and she takes good care of me.”

  “So you risked exposure?”

  “No one saw me.”

  “They could have.” Elizabeth leaned forward in her chair. One hand came down on Ruxandra’s leg, gripping it hard. “Do you know the danger you will put me in if they see you? Do you know the danger you will be in?” She leaned closer, her next words desperate with desire. “Do you know what would happen to me if I can’t have you near me? I need you, Ruxandra.”

  The sudden change from anger to need sent Ruxandra’s mind reeling. Heat grew in her belly and spread down.

  “I need you by my side.” Elizabeth’s eyes bore into hers. “Especially right now. Especially at a time like this.”

  Ruxandra grabbed onto the words, used them as a wall between her body and Elizabeth’s desire. “A time like what?”

  Elizabeth fussed with the collar of her cape as though straightening it could make everything better.

  “Like what, Elizabeth?”

  “Rumors have been spreading. Stories about me and about the girls of my gymnaesium.”

  “What sort of stories?”

  “Vile ones of how I abuse the girls in my gymnaesium. Worse, stories of how I treat my peasants, as if that is any concern of these self-serving sycophants.”

  Ruxandra frowned, remembering the fear that radiated from the girls. She had not seen Elizabeth abuse them, but they were all terrified of her. As for the peasants…

  Ruxandra had a vision of the girls hanging above the tub and looked away.

  “Now the worst of the rumormongers has invited us to a concert on the very night we arrive.” Elizabeth let go of her collar and threw her hands in the air in disgust. “Lady Czobor is a favorite of King Rudolph. She commands respect and fear in his court, and she insisted that we attend this concert. She is very curious about you, Ruxandra.”

  Ruxandra looked at the pretty dress and thought about how Jana had made sure her hands and fingernails were clean, her hair perfectly combed. She’d been looking forward to the concert, but there was no need to take risks. “Maybe I shouldn’t go. I have yet to learn how to behave properly.”

  “You must come. She heard a young lady from my gymnaesium was with me and insisted you attend,” Elizabeth said. “We shall say that you are my ward. Your parents are dead, and you were sent to me. They were very provincial and raised you poorly. You will tell Lady Czobor what wonderful things you’ve learned, though you have only attended two weeks.”

  “I will.”

  “You’ll need a last name as well,” Elizabeth said. “Rozgonyi. One of my more distant relatives. Say it.”

  “Rozgonyi.”

  “Very good. Stay by me at all times.”

  “I will.”

  The carriage rolled around a corner, in front of a grand building. A hundred torches lit up the square in front of it. People—far more people than Ruxandra ever thought could be in one place—moved slowly up the wide steps to enter the hall. At the top of the stairs, an older woman in a deep red cloak stood, greeting each person as they arrived.

  “There she is,” Elizabeth said through gritted teeth. “Of course she will have us wait in line to pay court to her.”

  They dismounted the carriage and stood with the others in line. Many people, Ruxandra noticed, went around the line, directed away by men in red livery. Twenty people stood ahead of them, and the line moved slowly as the woman at the top greeted each. Ruxandra spent the time looking at the lovely clothes and listening to the many conversations around her. It had never occurred to her there could be so many ways to dress or do hair, or so many people to talk about.

  Finally, they reached the top.

  The woman looked older than Elizabeth, with a long, narrow face and faded eyes, but stood straight and tall and looked at them both as if her very presence was a gift to them. Her gray hair was swept up in an elaborate coiffure set with pearls, and around her neck she wore a thick gold chain. A coterie of seven women, each nearly as elegantly dressed, stood behind her.

  “My dear Countess Bathory.” The woman spoke the words without the slightest enthusiasm. “So good of you to join us on such short notice.”

  “How could I refuse such an invitation?” Elizabeth said sweetly.

  “I am pleased you did not,” Lady Czobor said. “I would have been most upset. And who is this young creature?”

  “My young cousin and ward, Ruxandra Rozgonyi. Ruxandra, this is Lady Czobor.”

  Ruxandra dipped into a deep, formal curtsy. “I’m honored to meet you, my lady.”

  “Rozgonyi?” Lady Czobor looked Ruxandra up and down. “You are very fair, I must say. Tall, but that is your parents’ fault. How long have you been with Lady Bathory?”

  “Since two weeks before we left to come to Vienna,” Elizabeth said.

  Lady Czobor did not acknowledge Elizabeth. “Are you enjoying your stay with Countess Bathory?”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  “Is that so?” Lady Czobor turned to Elizabeth, giving her a cold stare. “We hear how . . . strict you are with your servants. We should hate to think you are as strict with girls under your care.”

  “Servants need correction as you know,” said Elizabeth calmly. “But Ruxandra can tell you how well I care for her and the other girls.”

  “I’m sure she can,” said Lady Czobor. “And I’m sure she will, given the chance. Tonight, however, we are here for a concert, are we not? Shall we, ladies?”

  Lady Czobor walked past the women and into the hall. The other ladies turned and followed. Lady Elizabeth caught Ruxandra’s arm.

  “None of the others greeted me, though I outrank all of them.” Elizabeth’s grip on Ruxandra’s arm was like iron. “It was a deliberate snub, and it was at Lady Czobor’s instructions.”

  Elizabeth fixed a smile on her face and tucked Ruxandra’s arm into her own. “Now, act impressed, my dear, and don’t let that woman get you alone.”

  It turned out Ruxandra didn’t need to act impressed. The concert hall held five hundred people, and every seat, from the boxes in the sides to the farthest seats in the back was taken. The audience were dressed in their finest clothes, silks and satins and fine wool, embroidered and beribboned, jewels in the women’s hair and around their necks, sparkling like stars. A thousand candles burned in candelabras above their heads. The people talked continuously, and the clamor and color together nearly overwhelmed Ruxandra.

  She held tight to Elizabeth’s arm, making her wince. Ruxandra loosened her grip but didn’t let go. When they found their seats and sat, Ruxandra still clung to Elizabeth like a child at a circus.

  “Lady Czobor provided these tickets for us,” Elizabeth whispered in Ruxandra’s ear. “Notice where she is.”

  Ruxandra looked around and spotted Lady Czobor and her ladies. “The boxes, near the stage. The other ladies are with her.”

  “In the seats reserved for the upper nobility, which I am.” Acid dripped from Elizabeth’s words. “She gave us seats here th
at they may all look down upon us.”

  “You’re not in the pack.”

  Elizabeth pulled her eyes from the crowd and turned to look at Ruxandra. “What?”

  “Like wolves. If a stranger comes, the leader makes the pack keep their distance, to show the intruder he is not a member.”

  “You know this how?”

  “I ran with a wolf pack.”

  Elizabeth’s eyebrows went up. She looked back up at Lady Czobor. The woman saw and waved down, a smile on her face.

  “Not in the pack,” Elizabeth said. “Yes. Exactly like that.”

  Fifteen musicians took the stage. Fourteen carried their instruments. The fifteenth sat on a bench before a large, curved box. Ruxandra whispered to Elizabeth, who smiled.

  “The box is the pianoforte. The other ones are”—Elizabeth pointed at each—“violin, violin, viola, viola, cello, and a bass. Also, two flutes, two trumpets, two horns, and two oboes.”

  Then the music began and Ruxandra forgot everything.

  The music from each instrument wove in and out of the others, the sounds building on one another into a harmony that made Ruxandra’s mind quake with joy. The trumpets and violins soared together. The bass and cello glided with the horns and oboes. The pianoforte brought them all together. It was like the conversation of angels, where each voice added—and sometimes argued—but never in any way unbeautiful. The melody rose up and down the scale, dancing in and out of Ruxandra’s mind, leading down to her depths and up to the wide, bright world.

  Her hearing, so much better than anyone’s, caught every single note, every vibration of string and reed and brass. It felt as if her brain itself were being played, rearranged into exquisite patterns. The music entranced her in a way that made everything else fall away.

  When it was over, Ruxandra remained entranced, even as Elizabeth led her back to the carriage. She hummed the tune as she walked, and practically danced the rhythm. Elizabeth watched her the entire ride to the Stallburg, then led her back to Elizabeth’s drawing room.