by Iny Lorentz
Wanda had barely finished talking when Marie saw the men returning who were still able to walk. When she spotted Michel covered in blood, her heart ached and her fears threatened to spiral out of control. But to her relief, she then noticed that he was comfortably sitting on the bare back of a shaggy horse, which he’d probably caught and used to pursue the enemies.
As he rode through the gate, she instinctively slipped into the shadow of a wagon, worried about their reunion. Michel slid off his horse, dropped his helmet next to the trough, and washed the blood off his face and hands. Straightening up, he searched the courtyard with his eyes. Marie’s legs trembled when his gaze fell on her, and she felt too weak to move toward him. Staring at her for a few moments, Michel slowly started walking toward her.
“It is really you! I was worried you were just a dream.” Reaching her, he went to pull her into his arms, but he remembered his bloodstained armor and tried to wipe his cuirass on his leather sleeve, which was equally dirty. Marie pushed his arms aside, put her hands on his cheeks, and started to sob.
Holding her head against his shoulder, he looked down at her with tears in his eyes. For a while, neither of them could speak.
Junker Heribert had watched their reunion with a heavy heart. He had grieved deeply at Marie’s disappearance, but now that she was alive and in another man’s arms, he wasn’t sure he could bear it. Finally forcing himself to turn away from their overjoyed faces, he caught sight of Janka Sokolny nearby, lividly staring at the couple, and he realized that someone else was also watching her hopes and dreams shatter. In that moment, he saw Janka’s hand closing around the hilt of her dagger. Rushing to her side, he grabbed her arm. “You love the knight, don’t you? But Lady Marie has the right to him!”
Janka’s first reaction was to want to claw at Heribert’s face. But then she noticed the pain in his eyes and the sympathy in his expression, and her burning hatred suddenly collapsed, leaving her shaky and drained. She clung to the Junker to stop herself from falling, and she didn’t object when Heribert held her and whispered soothing words into her ear. “There’ll be a new love for you, mistress, and perhaps, if God wills it, even for me.”
Sir Heinrich and Eva, who’d been observing the Junker with worried looks, exchanged a glance. Two people seemed to have found each other in their suffering, giving each other strength.
Meanwhile, upset that her mother seemed to have forgotten about her, Trudi tugged at Marie’s skirt. But not until she started to whine did her mother take her arms off Michel and look down at her daughter. “But, my darling, what’s the matter?”
With a jolt, Marie realized that the child didn’t know her father and was simply jealous. She picked Trudi up and proudly presented her to her husband. “This is our little Hiltrud. We call her Trudi to distinguish her from her godmother. She was born nine months after your departure.”
Michel was deeply moved as he gazed at her, while his daughter scrutinized him distrustfully. “How beautiful she is! By God, this is the most wonderful gift you could have given me.”
Trudi wrinkled her nose. “Mama, who’s that man?”
“He’s your father,” Marie replied, suddenly realizing that the word had no meaning to her daughter. But that would soon change.
The younger Sokolny had watched Marie and Michel’s joyful reunion somewhat impatiently, and he now walked over to them. “Forgive me for interrupting, but this is not yet the time to celebrate. We have beaten only one of several Taborite armies. The survivors will carry the news of their defeat to the two Prokops as fast as they can, and then we’ll have to deal with at least three times as many enemies. The way things stand, we have no chance of holding Falkenhain, so we must discuss what to do next.”
Michel reluctantly let go of Marie. “You’re absolutely right, Pán Ottokar. But why did you turn against your former allies? Was it just to save your brother? Starting today, you’re not safe anywhere in Bohemia!”
With a bitter laugh, Ottokar Sokolny replied. “I haven’t been for a long time, Nemec! The Taborite leaders have declared us Calixtine noblemen their enemies, saying we’re just as depraved as the German lords we used to fight together, and their preachers are likewise stirring up hatred against us.”
Sebesta Dozorik stepped up to Michel and rested his hand on his shoulder. “These men don’t care about faith or the liberation of our people, but only about their own power, and they are trying to secure it through bloody terror. We have therefore decided to take up arms against the Taborites, rather than wait until they kill us one by one. But we’re not strong enough to defeat them on our own, and we need to look for allies.”
The younger Sokolny turned to his brother, whose shoulder wound Wanda was dressing. “Václav, you can’t stay here! Take all your people to the Reich before the Taborites have gathered a new army to destroy you. Go to King Sigismund and tell him the Czech nobility of Bohemia is ready to discuss an alliance. Tell him it’s the only way for him to keep the crown of Bohemia and put an end to the devastating campaigns of the Taborites once and for all. Everything has its price, of course, and we’ll give you our terms in writing.”
Count Sokolny looked at Michel, asking for help. “What do you think, Sir Knight of the Reich?”
“You should heed your brother’s advice. The Taborites have left enough wagons and provisions behind, which when added together with our own, will be enough for a long march west. Order the men who can still walk to take stock of the loot and assign sufficient guards. We have to expect that the odd survivor of Vyszo’s army will return to set fire to their camp. Everything needs to be ready for departure in three days’ time at the latest. I hope Marek will be able to lead us west without being noticed, just as he so ably brought Sir Heinrich and his men here.”
Marek grimaced as if he’d swallowed vinegar. “No, don’t count on me. I’m staying here to fight with Pán Ottokar against those destroying our country.”
Michel glanced at the count, who spread his arms helplessly, and then thoughtfully looked at Marek. Michel understood his friend’s convictions and loyalty, and he knew that an unwilling leader wasn’t a good leader. So he nodded and placed his hand on his shoulder. “Stay here and fight. You’re a cunning old fox and will be a valuable help to Pán Ottokar. I wish you all the luck in the world, Marek, and may God allow us to meet again. But now, let’s get to work. We’ve got a lot to do.”
8.
Most of the women cried as they left Falkenhain, and many men also wiped away tears, as none of them believed they’d ever see their home again. Even Michel felt a certain grief at departing, as that remote place had become a home to him over the past two years.
Count Sokolny came over to him. “I never thought I’d have to see this day, Pán Michel. Even though I’m taking everyone with me, I’m ashamed to leave my beloved home to Prokop’s marauders.”
Pushing his own sadness aside, Michel gave him an encouraging smile. “Forget your gloomy thoughts and look forward to a happy return, Count Václav. Your task is now to reconcile your brother and his friends with the kaiser. You’re doing much more for your home that way than if you defend Falkenhain until it is in ruins.”
Sokolny’s eyes fell on his brother’s horsemen, who would be accompanying them for several days, and breathed deeply. “You’re right, Michel Adler, as you are so often. My family is well, as are my servants and the peasants who have sought my protection, and for the first time I can see a glimmer of hope on the horizon. So I have no reason to complain. If King Sigismund accepts the Calixtines’ offer and manages to wrest the desired privileges from the pope, there’s indeed hope for a happy return.”
The count spurred his horse forward to take the lead of the procession, while Michel slowed down until he was beside Eva’s wagon, which was now being drawn by four horses and also carried Marie and Trudi. “We’re going home, my love!” he cheerfully called to his wife.
Shrugging, Marie smiled sadly. “To what home? We can’t go back to Rheinsobern.”
“To the home we’ll create together. And I’m glad I don’t have to see Rheinsobern again. I never felt at home in that old castle.”
“Neither did I, Michel.” Marie’s gloomy thoughts disappeared, making room for new hopes. She gazed at Michel like a young girl in love and blew him a kiss.
Eva giggled softly. “I’ll look after Trudi tonight if you like.”
Marie exchanged a brief glance with Michel, sensing that he shared her intense longing. “We’ll think about it, Eva, but first let me thank you again for taking such good care of our darling.”
Michel immediately added his praise. “If the kaiser gives me the fiefdom he promised, it’ll be the start of better times for you, too, Eva. You’ll never have to drive a wagon again, but you can settle down with us instead.”
Staring into the distance, Eva sighed. “I thank you, Sir Knight. I’m not getting any younger, and I hate the thought of being buried on the side of some road like poor Donata.”
“We’ll have to look after a few people,” Marie added. “I also want to take care of Anni and Helene, and you can’t forget about Zdenka, Reimo, and their son.” Marie was deeply grateful to the couple who had saved Michel’s life, and she’d already become friends with Zdenka.
Michel had apparently already considered how to reward the German-Czech couple. “A lord of the castle and his wife need good people they can trust, rather than treacherous snakes like that Marga.”
Marie had to smile. She’d never wasted another thought on her housekeeper from Rheinsobern, but she did enjoy that her husband despised her wholeheartedly even though she had only briefly mentioned the woman’s betrayal. “I’m sure Zdenka will make a good housekeeper. I’d thought of a freeholder’s farm at first, but I think they’ll feel more comfortable in an elevated position in our household.”
Even though Marie couldn’t know where fate would carry her and Michel, she began making plans for the future, laying them out in great detail for Michel. He laughed and joined in, and when Eva also started adding suggestions, a merry conversation ensued, dispersing the last-remaining shadows.
When the procession stopped for the first time late that afternoon and Marie climbed down from the wagon with stiff limbs, Michel held out his arms to catch her. As he gently put her down, his hand brushed her bottom, as if by accident. The touch shot through Marie like a lightning bolt. Her stomach grew tense with desire, and she yearned to immediately drag Michel into the bushes. It was a great effort to keep her composure and help the women prepare dinner. Later, when it was getting dark, the leaders sat together with cups of beer.
Michel couldn’t leave the men as soon as he’d have liked to, and he feared Marie might already have fallen asleep. But when he finally rose and walked toward Eva’s wagon, she stepped out of the shadows. “Trudi’s deeply asleep,” she whispered as she wrapped her arms around him.
Kissing her, he gently stroked her back with his fingers. Marie giggled and pulled him underneath the wagon. “Eva has laid out several sheepskins and blankets for us, so we’ll be very cozy.”
Before she could climb underneath a blanket, Michel reached under her skirt and pulled it up, laughing softly. “Take all your clothes off. I want to feel your skin on mine.”
As soon as they were both undressed, he crawled toward her, his desire for her almost consuming him, but he held back at first, caressing her breasts with the tips of his fingers. He felt her thighs opening to him and slid on top of her. Marie enjoyed how gently he entered her and tightened her lips to stop herself from screaming with pleasure. Since Michel didn’t want to wake anyone around them, he held her tightly, gently rocking his hips.
Marie closed her eyes, feeling all the fears that had tortured her during the years of separation finally draining away, and realizing that the long years apart clearly hadn’t changed their love.
Later, as they were lying entwined under the warm blankets, Marie started to tell him her story. Michel listened patiently, but he wrung Lady Kunigunde’s neck several times in his thoughts, and silently cursed Fulbert Schäfflein, whom the count palatine wanted Marie to marry. Though she spoke in a calm, almost indifferent voice, he lived through all her battles and worries as intensely as if they’d happened to him, and he asked God to reward those who’d helped her and to punish her enemies. But he swore that one of them would be punished by his own hand.
“I should have killed Falko von Hettenheim when he raped the shepherdess on the march from Rheinsobern to Nuremberg. Many, including you and me, would then have been spared much suffering. Now I’ll make up for it. I’ll accuse him of treason and demand a trial by ordeal. Then I can send him to hell in front of the princes of the Reich.”
“No, don’t! Falko is a rabid dog who fights without honor or conscience. I don’t want to have found you just to lose you again so soon.”
Placing his finger against her lips, Michel laughed softly. “You don’t have to worry about me, my love. I’ve done almost nothing but practice battle over the past few months, on horseback, on foot, and with any weapon you can imagine. With God’s help I can easily beat that scoundrel.”
Marie hissed like a kitten. “God only helps those who help themselves!”
“And that’s why I’ll beat him.” Michel laughed louder, breaking off when someone stirred nearby. He waited until the person’s breathing was regular again, then rolled back on top of Marie.
She panted with surprise. “You’re insatiable tonight!”
“I’ve got three years to catch up on,” he replied, and started doing so.
9.
Four days later, Ottokar Sokolny and his knights left to join forces in a different part of Bohemia to fight the Taborites, accompanied by Marek and almost three dozen soldiers. Václav Sokolny followed Sir Heinrich and his men west with the remaining three hundred men, women, and children. The nobleman Feliks Labunik, who’d been surprisingly brave in the fight against the Taborites, led them through the wooded mountains almost as well as Marek could have done, and they didn’t meet up with a single enemy. Unlike the others, Marie and Michel ascribed this less to the saints or Labunik’s memory from their last trip than to the fact that Prokop’s army must have been attacking Saxony while other troops were probably raiding the Austrian lands. The border regions of Bavaria, the Upper Palatinate, and Franconia had been plundered too many times to offer any success, and were therefore of no more interest to the Taborites.
Since the refugees were traveling with only light wagons pulled by plenty of draft animals, they made good progress, and with each mile they left behind, the danger of being caught by pursuers diminished. Marie was proud of Michel, whom Sir Heinrich and Count Sokolny had naturally accepted as their common leader, and who so capably dealt with any difficulties that he soon won everyone’s respect. Not even Heribert von Seibelstorff could maintain his dislike of the husband of the woman he loved.
He didn’t have much time to think about his hurt feelings, however, as Janka Sokolna kept him and the other horsemen on their toes. Insisting on riding her horse rather than traveling in a wagon, she was spirited, though not always restrained in the saddle, and time and time again she spurred her mare to ride ahead of the procession. Her father was gripped by fear every time she disappeared, and Heribert and Michel scolded her repeatedly for her foolishness, but she wasn’t listening to reason.
About a week after the younger Sokolny had left them, they had problems with one of the wagons. Since no one was paying any attention to Janka, she used the opportunity to spur her mare and ride ahead. Catching a glimpse of her riding past, Junker Heribert shouted at her to stay with them, but she only bent lower over her mare’s neck. Cursing, he spurred his own horse in pursuit. But his anger soon turned to fear, as Janka whipped her horse madly and turned off the road onto a barely recognizable path. Flying along at a
wild gallop, she laughed as the branches whipped her shoulders.
Spurring his horse to go faster, Heribert paid no attention to the branches hitting his face and arms. At the last moment, he noticed a thick, low-hanging branch and bent down to avoid it. When he lifted his head again, Janka was gone.
Shocked, Heribert reined in his horse, then carefully scanned the area. Fortunately, the dirt thrown up by the mare’s hooves showed him the way, and he found Janka up to her hips in a quagmire, looking desperately for something to grab to pull herself out. Her mare was standing on solid ground a few paces away from her, nibbling hungrily on the grass.
The Junker could easily imagine what had happened and had to stifle a grin. It appeared the mare had spotted the swamp hole in time and stopped in full gallop, flinging the woman into the bog.
“What are you staring at, Sir Knight?” Janka shouted angrily, then sank even deeper, crying out in dismay.
The sound brought the Junker to his senses. “Wait! I’m coming to help you!” He rushed to a young birch tree, felled it with several strokes of his sword, and returned to the quagmire. Carefully, he pushed the crown of the small tree over the bog. “Grab the branches and hang on tight.”
Janka quickly clutched the branches, pulling so hard that she nearly toppled Heribert into the swamp as well. Cursing, he braced himself against thick tree roots to keep his balance. But the bog mercilessly held on to its victim, and Janka’s hands finally slipped from the tree. “I can’t do it any longer!”
The Junker thought for a moment, then took out his dagger, cut off the reins of the two horses, and tied them together. He secured one end to the pommel of his saddle and threw the other to Janka.
“Tie this around yourself, and make damned sure the knot holds!” he shouted at her. He grabbed his horse by the bridle, waited impatiently until she was ready, then pulled the animal away from the muddy hole. The leather straps stretched almost to the breaking point. Heribert groaned with exhaustion as the bog gradually gave way to the combined forces of man and horse, and Janka was dragged through the dirt on her belly, cheering with relief.
