“My dear young woman…” Melchior tried to think fast. She couldn’t be the missing Jülich-Berg widow. No one got that sunburned that fast. Was one of Hesse’s sisters missing? The two youngest would be about the right age. “I am of course deeply honored and flattered that such a lovely young woman would consider me as husband, and I am quite aware that your birth must be at least equal to my own, but since you have mentioned the defense of Bonn, I am afraid I must ask you for an explanation before I can give the question its due consideration.”
Lotti gave a brief laugh at Melchior’s eloquence. “It sounds as if you’ve been spending more time at court and less on the battlefield than rumor has it. I am Katharina Charlotte von Zweibrücken, the widow of Wolfgang of Jülich-Berg. Hesse has been turning over most of the stones in Berg, searching for me and my son.”
“I see. And were you perhaps in the habit of going for long rides in the sun?”
“No. Why?” The young woman now looked confused.
“Charlotte’s skin has been stained with a walnut concoction, General,” Frau Benedicte interrupted with a smile. “She really is whom she claims to be.”
“Ah.” Melchior had heard about ways to lighten the skin with lemon juice and milk, but of course no one he knew would have wanted to make their skin appear darker. “Please pardon my suspicion, My Lady.” Melchior hesitated. “Given our previous conversations about pawns, I cannot imagine you being willing to seek the protection of Hesse. But would you be willing to pretend doing so? At the moment we are rather desperately looking for a way to stall Hesse’s attack, but he knows both Bonn and Cologne have applied for membership of the USE, so only something that he really wants would make him hesitate.”
“No.” Charlotte shook her head, and her eyes looked even harder than when Melchior had first met her on the wall. “I’m sorry, General, but I must think beyond the present danger both for myself and for my son. If you are willing to offer me your protection as my husband, I have a letter ready announcing both the marriage and that I’ll be defending Bonn as a fighter on the walls in case of an attack. Frau Benedicte assures me that she can get copies of the letter to Gustavus Adolphus as well as to my family. That he would knowingly have killed his emperor’s niece should be enough to prevent Hesse from attacking Bonn. At least if you make certain Hesse know that Gustavus Adolphus knows.”
“You’ll literally be gambling your life on that assumption.”
“Yes,” Charlotte took a deep breath, “but I’ll take death from something I can at least shoot back at, before surrendering myself into a powerless position.”
“So: Death before Surrender, but: It’s Better to Marry Than to Burn.” Melchior sense of humor suddenly bubbled to the surface. His feelings for the young widow weren't anywhere nearly as strong as for his lost Maria, but getting a wife of breeding, courage and spirit in addition to the best solution to the siege he could hope for here and now, was an excellent deal by anybody's standard. “You are placing a lot of trust in a man you barely know, my lady," he continued seriously. "I am quite willing to protect you to the best of my abilities without asking for your hand in return.”
“No.” Charlotte looked Melchior straight in the eyes. “As an unmarried woman I am far too tempting for my family—as well as for Hesse—to use in their political maneuverings, and I cannot fight them on my own. Frau Benedicte has assured me that considering your upbringing it is highly unlikely that you’ll ever try to control my thinking—or even speaking. Anything else I can live with.”
“Certainly.” Melchior said. “My late mother was a woman of a most original and independent mind, and I would never . . .” He stopped and shook his head, “That is not important right now. If you are sure this is what you want, then I am yours to command.”
Chapter 22
Magdeburg, House of Hessen
October 7, 1634
“Will you be at the palace all day again today, Cousin Amalie?” said Elisabeth, while spreading honey onto a fine wheat bun. She wanted to talk with her cousin, and so had left the bedroom she shared with her sister early to have breakfast with Amalie and the males of the household before they left.
Amalie leaned back in her chair and tapped her tankard of hot beer with a fingernail. “Probably. The Cologne delegation has been introduced to the emperor, and is to be heard by the Chamber of Princes this morning. Did you spend the afternoon with the abbess yesterday?”
“Yes, and the day before we went to visit Sister Maximiliane von Wartenberg. She was very interesting.” Elisabeth smiled at her cousin. “Do you know why the Hilpoltstein heirs keep dying?”
“Taking an interest in politics, my dear?” Amalie raised an eyebrow. “Maxie might well be the most intelligent living member of the Bavarian ducal family, but her passions occasionally lead her to follow her heart too much and her head too little. As, for Hilpoltstein: Sofie Agnes went to see the American doctors and they told her that her blood does not mix well with Hilpoltstein’s. Something called rhesus. It will only get worse, with each pregnancy producing a baby weaker than the previous one, and as she can no longer carry to term, she had better stop before she killed herself. I’m told the problem is with Hilpoltstein, and that she would probably have no problem with a child sired by somebody else, so Hilpoltstein has not asked for a divorce. Yet.”
“One of the American books I’ve read talked about rhesus as a problem in the English royal family; it is something different in the blood in some families—or part of families.” Elisabeth’s eyes became distant as she slowly continued. “The Zweibrücken and the Veldenz branches have no shortage of strong children, but the descendants of Philipp von Neuburg and Anna of Jülich-Kleve-Berg are close to dying out. Countess Hedwig’s children seem to have been the only numerous group, but that might have been due to the care she lavished on them. The way the pox killed half and has left the rest weak for years . . . Tante Anna Marie had four living children, but none of them have produced more than one.”
“Hmm. Interesting.” Amalie smiled at her young cousin. “I hadn’t put that together myself. How about you, Hermann?” She turned her head toward her brother-in-law.
“The American doctors have made it quite clear that they cannot predict which marriages would be fertile and which would not.” Hermann of Hesse-Rotenburg had obviously grown more than a little careful about what he told his relatives since becoming the USE Secretary of State. Not that they were not loyal to the emperor and the USE, but they also had private agendas and in the traditional maneuverings of the old families he now had to be completely neutral. “I’m having a meeting with Oxenstierna before the session in the Chamber. Good Day to you all.”
The speed with which the young man left made Elisabeth suspected he slightly regretted moving from the palace to his half-brother’s house a few months ago, when he married Sofie Juliane of Waldeck. The wedding between the two childhood sweethearts had been planned for the previous winter, but when it was put off due to the announced election, the building of their house had also been put on hold. This had not pleased the passionate and independent Soffy, so an officially premature baby was now expected to arrive any day, and the couple had temporarily moved into the House of Hessen.
“I think you are making him nervous, sister.” Philipp Moritz von Hanau looked after the hastily departing young man.
“Hesse isn’t trying to rival or undermine the power of the emperor, but if USE is to remain stable and grow, this mess left by Johann the Insane need to be dealt with once and for all. Hesse is loyal and able, and our bloodline is strong and healthy—whereas the entire Neuburg family seems to degenerate more and more.”
“But as Elisabeth pointed out, the branches of Zweibrücken and Veldenz seem healthy enough.” Albrecht zu Schwarzenfels smiled fondly at his daughter. Elisabeth smiled back. She knew her father took great pride in his five daughters and sole surviving son, but usually it was the pretty Maria who was his favorite. Still, after fighting his niece and her side of the f
amily for decades over this and that property he had gained a great respect for Amalie’s mind, and if Elisabeth could prove her own abilities, she might be able to get his support for something more interesting to do than another marriage into the Isenburg family.
“Zweibrücken is young and unproven, Uncle Albrecht, and the present Veldenz is an infant. Despite their Vasa mothers and grandmothers the emperor might prefer those difficult lands in the hand of someone of proven loyalty and ability.” Amalie shrugged. “The Chamber will listen, debate and present the emperor with a recommendation—which he may follow or ignore.”
“Didn’t he indicate what recommendation he wanted last night?” Elisabeth asked.
“Young lady…” Amalie broke off her scold and joined the general laughter around the table. “Well, you have certainly woken up and started paying attention to the world around you. But no, unless you count spending the evening flirting with Maxie as an indication, the emperor appears to be waiting.” She frowned. “Oxenstierna on the other hand seems to have taken a strong liking to Zweibrücken. Probably not surprising since the chancellor has always been close to Zweibrücken’s aunt, Princess Katharina, and even tried to place Princess Kristina in her care.”
“So even if Oxenstierna does not want Cologne to remain a free town, he might well favor Katharina’s family regarding the Jülich-Berg heritage question.” Elisabeth’s eyes went distant again. “Especially over De Geer in Essen.”
“Uncle Albrecht, I don’t know what ever you have been teaching your daughter at Schwarzenfels,” Philipp rose from his chair, “but having her in the same house as Amalie is making me nervous. Let us leave for the safer rooms in the palace, where all that threatens is a bit of backstabbing, character assassination and revolution.”
Chapter 23
Regensburg,
October 8, 1634
“They have arrested the Wolf.” Simon startled at the low voice, but managed to keep from turning around. He had sent Schaden into Regensburg in the guise of a horse-leech looking for job, while Rosy and Simon went pretending to be two very young officers on their way from Passau to Landshut. In either case it made perfect sense for them to ask about Duke Maximilian’s troop movements, and Rosy and Simon had been doing very well in a party given by a wounded officer in the inn, where they had taken a room. Simon had pretended to be a lot more drunk than he actually was, but to keep the pretend from getting real he still had to go outside and stick a finger down his throat from time to time to rid himself of most of the wine and brandy he had consumed.
“Schaden?”
“Yeah. The Wolf went to visit his mistress, and her husband found them and had him arrested as a spy. He’s been locked up in the old wall-tower.”
“Not in the jail?”
“No. The husband is a town councilor, and is trying to talk the captain of the guard into just cutting the Wolf’s head off and sending it to the Duke in Landshut.”
“That would be highly irregular.” Simon shook his head trying to clear the brandy fumes so he could think.
“Be as it might. The councilor is rich and the captain building a new house.”
“Damned! In that case the risk is too great to wait for help from the camp.” Simon stood for a moment and listened to the roar of laughter following one of Rosy’s stories. “Is the councilor the same man that the Wolf dueled with in August?”
“I have no idea.” Schaden sounded irritated. “If you decide to do something and it involves me, you can find me in the tack-room behind The Moor.”
“Wait!” Schaden’s words distracted Simon for a moment. “Don’t you care about the Wolf?”
“I like horses. I’m not too fond of men—or women.”
“I see. But you go tell the camp, while Rosy and I go take a look at the tower. Get Rosy from the taproom. Say …” Simon hesitated.
“That his little friend has finished vomiting, fallen down and gone to sleep. Rosy can take it from there.”
* * *
Rosy and Simon came staggering along the street following the wall singing a raunchy song in English. At least Simon assumed that it was raunchy, but since he didn’t speak more than a few words in English, all he could do was to repeat what Rosy had just sung about half a beat later. There were no guards outside the door to the tower, but a light was shining behind a window, and an extremely loud and angry female voice could be heard. Simon stopped their stagger just outside the door by simply sitting down on the dirty street, and claiming that he wanted to listen to the lady singing instead of Rosy sounding like a tortured cat in some foreign tongue. They had barely spent a few minutes with Rosy trying to wrestle Simon back up on his feet, when the door slammed open, and a tall, curvaceous and very angry lady came out shouting curses and running right into Rosy.
“Are you the Wolf’s mistress?” Rosy whispered.
“What? Yes, but …”
“Scream and shout for help to get us inside,” Rosy whispered, while Simon admiring his fast thinking threw his arms around the lady’s legs and started singing the dirtiest song he knew.
“Pretty lady, pretty, pretty lady. We’re two lost little sheep looking for a friendly shepherdess. Wanna find a little hay to play in with me?” Rosy’s voice was now raised high enough to be heard above Simon’s singing, until they were both drowned out by the lady screaming like a banshee, while starting to beat Rosy on the head.
The two rather portly men who came to the lady’s rescue and dragged all three of them up the stairs to the lightened room, would have been child’s play for Simon and Rosy to handle in a fight, but the big scarred man leaning against the barred door was an entirely different matter.
Simon staggered to the chair nearest the big guard and kept his attention apparently fully on the scene enacted by Rosy and the tall lady, those named appeared to be Madeleine. In reality, however, Simon was watching the distorted reflection of the guard in the window glass, and trying to come up with an idea before somebody ran out of steam. With the brandy still fuzzing his brain, Simon didn’t think he could come up with anything clever, but when Madeleine changed track and went from berating Rosy to attacking the officer for arresting a fine upstanding young officer just because he had succumbed to a woman’s weakness, instead of making the streets safe for decent women, Simon noticed the big guard licking his lips, and had an idea. It depended rather heavily on Madeleine playing along, but then the Wolf had always had a strong preference for intelligent women.
“My Lady, you are so right. A pretty young woman really shouldn’t limit herself to an old and worn-out husband, but would be much better off taking a strong, young soldier to her bed.” Simon stood up and clumsily tried to put his arms around Madeleine, while whispering, “Push me at the guard,” under the sound of her husband’s shouting.
The push she gave him was strong enough to create a most convincing stumble ending up with Simon clinging to the big guard’s kyras with one hand and the helmet with the other. As Simon heard the sound of wood breaking behind him, he kneed the guard in the groin, pulled off the helmet, and used the guard’s own cudgel to knock him down and out.
When he turned the fight behind him was already over with both Madeleine’s husband and the officer groaning on the floor. Madeleine grabbed the keys from the officer’s desk, and hurried over to open the door behind the big guard, while Rosy quickly and expertly started binding and gagging the men with their own belts and cravats. Simon grabbed their confiscated swords and knives, and went to help Madeleine support the rather battered Wolf out from his prison.
“Sir, we need to leave before Schaden brings the rest of your men. Are you able to ride?”
“Yes, but getting out of the gate at this time of night might be a problem.”
“I’ll take care of that.” Madeleine let go of Wolf. “Drag the men into the cell, and go get your horses. I’ll meet you at the southern gate in about half an hour.”
“Madeleine, my dear. How can I ever repay you?”
“I
’ll think of something. I’m coming with you.”
“But …”
“Forget it. My family might have kept that old fool from locking me in a cloister, but one more evening spent with my mother-in-law, and I’ll murder that old bitch and go to prison anyway. I’m coming with you!”
Chapter 24
Magdeburg, House of Hessen
October 10, 1634
“Very nice girls.” Duchess Hedwig nodded towards Amalie’s two young nieces greeting the visitors beneath the chandelier in the middle of the big drawing room. Normally Amalie would have been standing beside them, but because of the feud she had been having with their father, she had no idea how well they coped with difficult social situations, and had therefore used the fact that she was expected to drop her baby any day now to let Litsa and Maria welcome the guests on their own. The mix of the girls’ old school-friends—some of whom had made high-status marriages—and Amalie’s politically important hostesses took both tact and poise to manage.
“Yes, very.” Amalie smiled and nodded to Dowager Duchess Anna Marie von Neuburg, who gave back a rather frosty smile. Maria, the younger of the two girls had always been lively and charming, but had never shown much interest in anything but dresses and fripperies. The best that could be done with her would probably be a marriage to seal a political alliance.
“Looks like the old lady still hasn’t forgiven you for trying to become her nephew’s guardian,” said Hedwig, having noticed the byplay.
“No. She doubtlessly feels that she and her son would be the natural guardians for Wolfgang’s heir.” Amalie gave a small shrug. “But Gustavus Adolphus favors his own sister and the baby’s Zweibrücken relatives.”
If young Freidrich von Zweibrücken succeeded in getting a share in the Jülich-Berg heritage either for himself or his sister, it might be worth making a connection by marrying him to Maria. Amalie made a mental note to the point.
1635- the Wars for the Rhine (ARC) Page 18
