“And getting bumped around in a carried chair would make your sore stomach feel so much better. Be sensible, my friend.”Franz looked around the sparsely furnished little room. It was warm and clean, and the best care possible would be given freely. “I’ll go talk to Heinrich.”
“About arranging for your travel?”
“About arranging for my travel.”
Magdeburg, House of Wettin
Eva stepped back towards the wall and turned her head from the light. That some of the men in the Danish delegation were unusually attractive didn’t make their various reactions any easier to ignore. Eva smiled a little at her own thoughts; if there was one thing she would not waste her time and thoughts on, it was wishing for a husband. That she was now the sister-in-law to the new Prime Minister had brought a few ambitious men sniffing around, but refusing to even consider that was the one thing regarding Eva that everybody agreed on. Most her relatives felt that Eva had best devote her life to catering to their comforts in various capacities, while Eleonore and Wettin wanted Eva to return to the school at Quedlinburg and become a nun or a teacher. Eva had been happy at Quedlinburg, studying the American books and making new and better medicines to sell for the school. But she wanted her own territory; and besides, Quedlinburg just wouldn’t be the same without her sister Anchen, and their friends Litsa and Maria.
All four of them were here tonight, but separated by their new interests: Anchen with her fiancé, the young Count Friedrich von Zweibrücken, both looking besotted, Litsa gathering political news for her journalistic writings at the elbow of her cousin Amalie Elisabeth of Hesse-Kassel, and Maria . . . Eva sighed and started moving quickly across the brightly lit ballroom. And pretty Maria managing to flirt with the entire Danish delegation, while they were being introduced to Abbess Dorothea and Maria’s newly arrived mother, Ehrengard. Eva had never liked the haughty and quarrelsome woman, but someone really should warn her that Anchen’s betrothal had made Maria even more determined to marry well and early.
Chapter 40
Cologne, Hatzfeldt House
March 10, 1635
“I really think you would be better off joining the USE, Sissy,” said Friedrich.
Charlotte looked at her young brother with a mixture of fondness and irritation. He was obviously off on one of his wild enthusiasms, and had not stopped singing the praises for all things American since his arrival with Johanna von Anhalt-Dessau and Maxie.
“You’ve mentioned that a time or two—or ten—since our arrival.” Maxie’s usual vivacious entrance sent everybody smiling. Even Friedrich didn’t sulk the way he usually did at even the slightest hint of reprimand.
“But Maxie, they are negotiating to join the Habsburgs in the Low Countries.”
“An alliance, brother, just as we plan to have an alliance with the USE. I know your tutor set you reading Grotius, and according to Melchior the Americans are really in favor of balancing powers and buffer states.” She hesitated. “The Crown Loyalists might be less in favor of that than the old government, but I’m still trying for something that’ll leave Jülich with more independence that joining the USE. The purpose—or one of them—of the negotiations my husband is presently undertaking is to establish something stable and acceptable to all for the entire Rhine-Mosel-Meuse triangle so the French cannot play Peter against Paul to strike north again. No matter how much you prefer adventure to politics, you must be able to see the benefits from that. Can you imagine what kind of trouble it would create if France manage to gain control of this side of the Rhine? Perhaps all the way to Düsseldorf? The Habsburgs would much rather Jülich joined the USE, and the USE—at least the old government—would much rather see us join the Low Countries. At the moment it could go either way, and I’m not ruling out that we’ll end up joining the USE. Don Fernando and my husband are getting along really well, and some of the trading agreements that Allenberg suggested would be very favorable to everybody involved.”
“Yes, yes,” Friedrich waved the argument away and scowled at his sister, “and that’s another thing. That husband of yours. You are a Countess Palatine from an old and fine family, and a jumped-up imperial count . . .”
“Friedrich! Melchior von Hatzfeldt is one of my closest friends.” It was the first time Charlotte had seen Maxie that angry; she really did have quite a temper.
“Sorry, sorry. I’m sure you would not befriend someone who isn’t of good character. But Charlotte is my sister, and she could marry royalty.”
“No thanks, brother. And that’s exactly why I wanted to be married before I met my loving family again.” Since Charlotte had expected precisely this kind of reaction from her family, she wasn’t particularly upset about her brother’s lack of enthusiasm for her marriage. “But did you get the letters sorted, Maxie?”
“Yes.” Maxie’s mood changed suddenly to worry. “I have opened the letter from Cardinal-Protector Mazzare directed to my cousin’s palace in Bonn. No one seems to be contesting Ferdinand’s position as archbishop of Cologne, and as far as the USE is concerned he can return, and providing he’s willing to follow USE’s laws, he can remain. I wonder if I should go talk to him myself. He’s too proud to like returning in anything less than triumph, but his health isn’t good, and much as he has annoyed me, I am fairly fond of that stubborn old fool.”
“I’ll go!” Friedrich looked ready to rush out of the house and jump on the first horse he encountered.
“No. That would be too cruel towards Johanna.” Maxie’s kind words made Friedrich hesitate.
“She could go with me. She’s just spending her time here shopping with Trinket anyway.”
“No. It would be too dangerous, what with all the small groups of mercenaries still lurking around. And besides: I know she has all kinds of plans for things the two of you could do together once she has made some additions to her wardrobe. We did leave Magdeburg rather abruptly.”
“Wolf took off after the Irish mercenaries as soon as he brought his regiment back to Cologne, and young Simon is still with Melchior, so I think your best course of action is to wait for my husband’s return,” Charlotte said. “His last letter indicated that the negotiations were nearly finished, and he would have more authority in dealing with Archbishop Ferdinand than anybody else.”
Chapter 41
The inn of the Good Shepherd outside Frankfurt am Main
March 15, 1635
“This is the last bloody, sodden straw that broke the donkey’s back.”
Franz looked up from his meal in alarm to see a rugged soldier standing scowling at him on the other side of his table.
“No preaching.” The man sat down, grabbed Franz’s wooden bowl and started shoveling the food into his mouth.
Franz looked towards the alarmed inn-keeper, who had reached for something below the bar, but stopped when Franz shook his head, and held up two fingers to signal two more servings. He pushed his clay mug across the table and leaned back regarding his cousin, Wolf von Wildenburger-Hatzfeldt. The Wildenburg branch of the Hatzfeld family had always been famous for their wild and unruly ways, and Wolf had followed the tradition with the greatest enthusiasm. Serving Franz’s brother, Melchior, as a very capable second-in-command when fighting as mercenaries for various rulers, but also looking for trouble as soon as the fighting stopped.
“It must be bad when you reach for food before ale,” Franz commented as Wolf mopped up the last stew in the bowl and reached for the new serving just set down by the serving maid. That Wolf scowled at the pleasantly rounded maid was in fact even more unusual than that Wolf only now seemed to notice the mug and drain it.
“I said no preaching.”
“I’m not. But I am capable of adding two and two. And starving plus a sudden dislike of bar maids plus the state of your booths adds up to you getting rolled and ending up stranded with no horse and no money, trying to walk to Frankfurt and find one of Herman’s contacts there. Am I correct?”
Wolf’s only answer was a snarl
.
Franz’s father had taken Wolf into his household and raised him with Franz and his brothers. The careful and bookish Franz had had very little in common with the wild and adventurous bigger boy, and Franz knew that Wolf considered him a complete ninny. Still, their upbringing had turned the cousin into a brother in anything but name. An often annoying, and usually short of money brother, but still a brother, so Franz continued. “I have no funds to spare before I reach my destination, and what I’ll find there is unknown. But we can redistribute the few packs on my second horse, and you can come with me.”
“You have a second horse?” Wolf stopped eating and looked at Franz like a predator viewing an uninteresting morsel that might be worth eating after all.
“Yes, and you may not take it for your own unless you are on a mission from Melchior, which I doubt, or you wouldn’t be here alone. Does he even know where you are?”
Wolf shrugged. “He knows I’ve gone after Irish Butler and his cronies. They’ve deserted Archbishop Ferdinand and gone south. Melchior kept me from following immediately after they left, and I had faulty information when I tried to pick up their trail. They must be south of here.”
“You think they’re heading for Bavaria?”
“Bound to. Who else would hire those traitorous buggers? The question just is how far south they’ll go before crossing the Rhine. They wouldn’t be welcome anywhere, so they’ll probably look for the weakest area.”
“Sorry cousin, but military weakness is outside my field.”
“Yes, you never could fight your way out of a wet paper bag.” Wolf frowned. “So how come you’re travelling alone?”
“I parted from Franz Wilhelm von Wartenberg in Mainz. He’s the Prince-bishop of Minden in case you don’t know. We escaped Archbishop Ferdinand together, and planned to borrow some money from Archbishop Anselm in Mainz, hire some guards and continue together to Würzburg. Franz Wilhelm had intended to make some contacts within the American administration before he went north to Minden, but instead he fell ill, and our plans changed. I’m simply moving south as quickly as the weather permits. Hence the second horse though I have few belongings.”
“But still going to Würzburg.”
“No. To Bamberg. There’re some troubles in Würzburg.”
“I’ll come with you. I leave most worrying about contacts and contract to Melchior, but the Americans are very good at gathering information, and they might know where Irish Butler went.”
Magdeburg
“This is so unfair!!! I want to stay in Magdeburg!!!”
Eva put her book down on the wide carriage seat. Maria’s whining was already grating on her nerves, and they were barely out of Magdeburg yet. Unless she found some way to shut up that stupid little air-head, she’d surely strangle her before they ever got to Rothenburg. Eva had tried to arrange for them to travel by train at least as far as Grantville, and preferably from there to Kronach, but Eva’s mother had insisted, that her daughter’s should travel in her own horse-driven carriage as befitting for nobility, rather than to mingle with all sort of low born riff-raff on a public transport. That this would mean several extra weeks of rumbling along badly kept snow-covered roads, of cause, meant nothing to the haughty woman.
“The balls to celebrate the election were barely getting started, and I’m being sent off to my mother’s obscure, rural friend. I want to stay in Magdeburg!!!”
“Then you shouldn’t have let your mother catch you alone with that Danish secretary.” Eva took a firm hold on her temper and tried a little reason. “That is not the kind of behavior that’ll gain you the kind of husband you want.”
“We were only kissing.” Maria defended herself. “And with his golden curls and mine, we would have the most beautiful little angel-babies. Ever since she arrived at Magdeburg, mother has been talking about nothing but my sister Katharina’s new baby.”
“Ria, he was already married.”
“Well, I didn’t know that.”
“Abbess Dorothea was standing right beside you, when she told your mother.”
“Not that I heard.” Maria sniffed and pressed her nose against the new glass panels in the carriage door, trying to look back at the town behind them.
“No you were probably too busy batting your eyelashes over your fan.” Eva gave up. Reason didn’t really stand a chance of making an impression on Maria von Schwarzenfels anyway. Staying with her cousin Amalie Elisabeth, wife to the Duke of Hesse-Kassel, might have been the pretty young girl’s first contact with the most powerful people in Europe, but Maria was the youngest—and prettiest—of her family, and had been spoiled all her life. Especially by her doting father. Eva was the youngest of her own family, but in the ducal family of Anhalt-Dessau it had been the sons and the oldest sisters who had been the center of attention, and she had mainly been left to the servants and her books.
“Why didn’t you talk the Abbess into stopping my mother? She’s been doting on you ever since we stayed at her stupid school.”
Eva didn’t answer. Yes, the Abbess had tried again to get Eva to return to Quedlinburg, tempting with extra lessons by teachers from Grantville and her own still-room and hinting at a teacher’s position with or without becoming a nun, but Eva was getting more and more determined to have her own laboratory. And besides: trying to teach a room full of girls like Maria would drive her crazy.
“I want to stay in Magdeburg!!!”
Eva took a deep breath and picked up her book.
Bamberg
Terrie stopped with her hand on the latch to open the gate to the brewery, and listened to the loud shouting inside. Normally the Eberhart household was very quiet with no one raising their voices except when the apprentices got a little boisterous. Part of this was Frau Eberhart’s recent dislike of loud noises, but judging from the apprentices’ behavior, Herr Eberhart had always been a gentle giant, who might not accept shoddy work, but didn’t need to shout to make his point. Of course a leaking barrel tended to make its own point, but still: the roaring seemed totally out of character.
“That sounds like Councilor Bitterfeld.” Terrie looked over her shoulder at Sister Tabitha standing behind her.
“You mean the roaring? I thought that was Herr Eberhart finally losing his temper over something.”
“No, it’s Bitterfeld. When Father Arnoldi had us locked up in Würzburg awaiting the torture and trials, Schönborn needed something to cover the sounds of our escape. He created that by getting into a quarrel with Councilor Bitterfeld. A very brave thing to do. Councilor Bitterfeld is strong, and he likes to hit people.”
“Likes to hit people?” Terrie let go of the latch and turned to stare at her friend.
“Yes.” Sister Tabitha smiled at her friend’s surprise. “Many household masters beat their servants, apprentices and children, and some also their wives. But there was almost constantly someone in Councilor Bitterfeld’s household with a broken bone. At least it happened often enough for it to be gossiped about.”
“But why didn’t anyone one stop this?”
“It’s not illegal.”
“It most certainly is.”
“Then I just don’t think anyone noticed that.” Sister Tabitha considered her outraged friend. “Don’t American men ever beat the members of their household?”
Terrie started to answer, then hesitated. “American households don’t often have servants, and certainly no one is allowed to beat them. But I must admit that some couples fight.”
“Oh yes, the American Amazones.” Sister Tabitha smiled. “I can imagine that knowing that your wife is perfectly capable of grabbing a gun and shooting you, keeps American men from being too eager to use their fists.” She continued. “Here it’s more that being unable to hold on to your authority without damaging your dependants is seen as a flaw. When Councilor Bitterfeld’s wife died, he wanted to marry the daughter of one of the wealthiest guild masters, but despite his wealth and influence none would accept his suit.”
�
�I most certainly hope so.” Terrie reached again for latch. “So he’s unmarried?”
“No. His first wife bore him no living children, so he still needs someone to provide him with an heir, even if she cannot give him the money and connections that he wants. His new wife is said to be from a family that he has ruined.” Sister Tabitha smiled a little bitterly at her speechless friend. “Quite like one of those horrid novels you lend me. Only without the handsome young nobleman coming to her rescue.”
From inside the building came a loud crash, and Terrie wretched the door open and stormed inside.
Chapter 42
Rhine Highlands near Zuelpich,
March 15, 1635
Melchior pulled up his collar against the icy wind blowing unhindered across the moorish plateau, and led his small troop of cavalry towards the few tents hurdled together. A single plume of smoke, quickly dispersing above the flapping tent sides was the only signs of human life.
The long-winding negotiations in Aachen involving seemingly everybody, including the USE’s representative and councilors from Cologne and Bonn, was still going on, but at least everybody had pulled back their armies. At the moment both he and Don Fernando had left the treaties to the lawyers and gone home for the rest of the winter, and now there was just this final knot to be tied before he and Charlotte could settle down for some time together.
Inside the biggest of the scruffy tents sat Archbishop Ferdinand of Cologne. In the seven months since Melchior had last seen him, the forceful church politician had become an old and obviously ill man, sitting dull-eyed and hunched over as if his stomach pained him.
1635- the Wars for the Rhine (ARC) Page 27
