Saint-Germain 24: An Embarrassment of Riches: A Novel of the Count Saint-Germain

by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro

  Hrodperht was overcome with emotion; tears welled in his eyes and rolled down his face. He flung himself forward to seize Otakar’s steel-booted foot and kiss it, exclaiming through his sobs, “Most, most dear Royal, nothing can say how greatly your munificence has honored me.”

  The Konig grinned. “May I be so beloved by all my vassals,” he said, and watched as the men in the reception hall went down on their knees to him, and the women courtisied. “Rise, rise, all of you,” he ordered a long moment later, using his sword to motion them upward. “And you, my goldsmith, you have set a most admirable example. My choice of you is an excellent one.”

  Nearly stumbling, Hrodperht got to his feet; he was still weeping, and his hands were clasped in devotion. “Dear Royal is—”

  “Yes, yes,” said Otakar. “I have no doubt that you will show yourself fit for my favor.”

  “Your gift and work are beyond price,” said the Konige as Hrodperht staggered away.

  At the Konig’s sign, the herald yelled, “Rakoczy Ferancsi, Comes Santu-Germaniu.”

  This was the moment Rakoczy had been dreading, but there was no avoiding it without giving unpardonable offense to Bohemia. He moved through the Court with no sign of his dismay at this recognition; he paused to bow to the Episcopus, and then knelt to the Konig, his demeanor calm and self-contained, elegant in his black-and-silver velvet huch over a chainse of darkest-red silk against which his eclipse pectoral shone with the luster of the night sky.

  “Comes, your jewels have made my sword and scabbard an object of beauty and a symbol of wealth and power. Were you a vassal of mine, I would be hard-pressed to reward you, for you have more riches than most of Bohemia together. I will not insult you with paltry riches when you are so clearly monied past all want.” His chuckle was dutifully echoed by the Court. “But as you are an exile, and your movements are restricted to Mansion Belcrady, the Konige’s Court, the Council Hall, and the public streets of Praha, on the order of Konig Bela, I can at least reduce your restrictions and grant you free movements within five leagues of Praha, and all the buildings within the city’s walls, your safety and protection assured through this, my grant to you.”

  “Dear Royal is most gracious,” said Rakoczy, thinking of how irate Konig Bela would be when he learned of Otakar’s modification of his exile. Nothing about him betrayed his anxiety as he lowered his head in another sign of respect.

  “You have more than earned it,” Otakar declared. “You have enriched the Konige’s Court, you have eased the Konige’s sorrows, you have aided the Counselors, you have conducted yourself with probity, and you have cost the treasury nothing. I would be a fool not to give you what little I can in return.” Before the Konig could launch into more fulsome praise, the Konige spoke up.

  “You have my gratitude, and that of my daughters,” she said, and dismissed Rakoczy with a turn of her hand. “And I thank Pader Klothor for his careful accounts.” A nod of her head sent the priest away.

  More relieved than he dared reveal, Rakoczy got to his feet and returned to the far end of the reception hall, his thoughts roiling: how was he to behave now? If he did not travel outside the city, Konig Otakar would be insulted, but if he did travel outside the city, Konig Bela would send his soldiers to pillage and ransack Santu-Germaniu. He was still deep in thought when he felt a hand on his sleeve; he turned and saw Rozsa of Borsod smiling conspiratorially at him. “Dear lady,” he said with an automatic bow.

  “Oh, very prettily done,” she said, staring directly at him. “I didn’t know you would still be here. I thought Konig Bela might have relented and summoned you home.”

  “That has not happened,” said Rakoczy.

  “More fool Konig Bela, then, for surely you could enrich his treasury as you have done for Konig Otakar.” She studied him silently for a short while, then said, “At least you haven’t forgot me.”

  “No, I have not,” he agreed, trying to discern her intentions.

  “I’m glad you haven’t.”

  He bowed to her again, curious to learn what she wanted. “Your husband must be pleased that you will give him a child.”

  She laughed angrily. “He may be, but his cousins are not. I’m here so that they won’t be able to cause me to miscarry. They have been Tibor’s heirs and want to remain so. At home, with Tibor gone, they might do anything to remain his heirs.”

  “Ah,” he said.

  “The Counselors of Praha,” the herald announced as the crowd parted once more to admit ten of the Counselors.

  “My husband has gone to join Konig Otakar in his on-going war with Rudolph von Hapsburg; the Comes of Austria is determined to reclaim his fief from Bohemia. Tibor knew he would have to protect our child, and he couldn’t do it sending me to Konig Bela’s Court, for his cousins are there as well as at Kaposvar, and my position wouldn’t protect me there.” She touched him again. “So he sent me back here—isn’t that fortunate.”

  “If it spares your child, it certainly is,” said Rakoczy, wishing he had reason to excuse himself from the Court.

  “Yes, but there may be other reasons as well,” she said, her eyes provoking him.

  “For your child’s sake, I think not,” said Rakoczy drily.

  “You can do me no disgrace now, no matter what you do to me,” she persisted, relishing the risk she was taking in speaking so directly to him. “I am pregnant, and no other seed shall quicken in my womb until this child I carry now is delivered. I have to protect my husband’s heir.”

  Rakoczy held up his hand. “Say nothing more if you wish to keep your reputation.”

  She laughed in her practiced way, her head tilted to beguile him. “Are you afraid of what might happen to me? Then you aren’t indifferent to my fate, are you?”

  “I have tasted your blood, Rozsa,” he said in a hurried whisper. “I cannot be indifferent to you.”

  “How that must vex you,” she said, moving away from him to greet Gyongyi of Tolan, who had just stepped down from the dais on an errand for the Konige.

  Rakoczy stood by himself while the Konig spoke confidently of the victory that he knew would be his by the end of summer. Each assertion he made was greeted by the Court’s acclaim, though the Konige’s eyes were distant and troubled.

  “They’ve gone to get the two daughters,” said a voice beside him; Rakoczy glanced around, then down, to discover Tahir standing next to him. “Otakar is already planning brilliant marriages for them both.”

  “It is what all Konigs do with their daughters,” said Rakoczy, feeling a pang for the two girls.

  “Too long has Bohemia been denied its place in the world. God now shows us the way to the highest place in the Holy Roman Empire. What can I, and all of you, be but grateful for His gift to Golden Otakar?”

  “Would you repeat what you said?” Rakoczy asked the dwarf.

  “I told you to be careful of spies. With so much favor from the Konig, your enemies will multiply as maggots in a corpse.” He ducked his head and went away through the crowd, while Rakoczy resisted the impulse to look about in the hope of discovering whom Tahir had had in mind when he gave his warning.

  * * *

  Text of a report on the damage done by the Moltava’s flooding, presented by Pader Baltzsar of Budejovice to Episcopus Fauvinel and the Counselors of Praha six days after the flood-waters receded.

  To the most reverend Episcopus Fauvinel and the most esteemed Counselors of Praha, the dutiful greetings of Pader Baltzsar of Budejovice, with his report of the flooding of the Moltava on the 23rd, 24th, 25th, and 26th days of March in the 1270th Year of Grace. May God guide me to report aright. Amen.

  Pursuant to the Episcopus’ instructions issued in his capacity as deputy to Przemysl Otakar II in his absence, I have now completed my initial inspection of the countryside for ten leagues upriver and ten leagues downriver and herewith offer my observations for your considerations.

  The tillers of the fields tell me that at least one third of all they have planted is los
t. Some may be planted again, but they will not have a full harvest even if they plow and plant again. No assessments of orchards and vineyards has yet been made. The current loss of livestock for the region I have covered stands at 162 drowned cattle, 248 drowned goats, 429 drowned sheep, 754 drowned chickens, 127 drowned geese, 81 drowned horses, 96 drowned asses, 722 drowned swine, 358 drowned dogs. Of the peasants themselves, 16 men have drowned, 24 women, and 53 children; there may be more, but these are all that have been reported to the priests and monasteries, most of whose losses are accounted in these figures, with the sole exception of the monks of the Monastery of the Holy Martyrs, where all but six of the monks there have perished. Not all the bodies have been found, but they will receive the blessing of the Church and burial in sacred ground when they are.

  Uncounted numbers of peasants are without food or shelter, and only two monasteries are in good enough repair to take them in: Sant-Phedor and Sant-Weilant, and they are strained to the limit. Food is needed in both establishments if the peasants who survived the flood are not to starve instead. I beseech both you, Episcopus, and you, Counselors, to gather together as much foodstuffs as you can spare and dispatch wagon-loads of bread, cheese, sausages, and wine to help relieve the monks who have extended their charity to these unfortunates.

  Eleven roads are in great need of repair, three bridges have been washed away entirely, leaving only their foundations behind, and another five are badly damaged, including two which will be used by the Konig and his men for their triumphal return, and therefore must be brought into good repair as soon as may be. Masons and woodmen will be needed to begin the rebuilding as soon as they may be dispatched so that they may begin their work.

  I will revisit all the places I have seen in another week and prepare an amended report to this one for your perusal.

  Gloria in excelsis Deo, et pacem in terris,

  Baltzsar of Budejovice

  Trinitarian Pader

  PART IV

  ILISKA OF SZOUSA

  Text of a decree issued by the Counselors of Praha; published throughout the city and read in every church on the 6th day of April, 1270.

  Be it known to all the people of Praha:

  1) At the order of the Episcopus Fauvinel and the Counselors of Praha, the Beggars’ Guild is given continuance on their order to hunt and kill any and all rats found in the city, and to be paid one silver Apostle for every ten rat bodies presented at the Council Court.

  2) Every resident of Praha has the permission of the Episcopus and the Counselors of Praha to kill rats; they may also claim the same bounty as the one provided for the Beggars’ Guild.

  3) Those owning property within the walls of the city are charged with the duty to kill any and all rats that may be found on said property, regardless of the use made of said property; they may also claim the bounty levied against the rats.

  4) The bounty on cats is herewith rescinded; no cat, with or without a household to claim it, may be killed so long as it is able to catch and kill rats and mice, and no charges of witchcraft may be made against any cat or household with cats within the city walls; those who are uncertain regarding any cats may take them to any priest in the city to be blessed.

  5) All warehouses within the city walls henceforth are required to keep cats to control the rats that are known to infest warehouses, where they proliferate in great numbers.

  6) Those failing to observe the orders of this decree will be subject to fines up to four golden Vaclavs for failure to comply with the terms herein. Repeated offenses will cause the assessed fines to be doubled at every lapse.

  God bless the City of Praha, the Konig, the Konige, the Episcopus, and the Counselors of Praha.

  1

  “Do you plan to venture outside the city?” Hruther asked Rakoczy in the language of Persia as they sat together in Rakoczy’s workroom while the athanor produced another load of jewels; it was late afternoon and Holy Week was beginning, announced by the ringing of bells throughout all Praha.

  “Not yet, and if I do, it will be limited to Otakar’s park, as I have done before at the Konige’s order. I think it would be best to wait to see what Konig Bela has to say about Konig Otakar’s benevolence before testing the limits of what I may actually do.” Rakoczy leaned back in his saddle-chair, his dark eyes enigmatic as he stared up at the ceiling. “No matter what I do, one of the Konigs is going to take umbrage.”

  “Which one can do you the most harm?” Hruther inquired; he had his own opinion, but he wanted to discover Rakoczy’s thoughts on the matter.

  “It is not a question of harming me, it is my fief that stands in the greatest danger, and Bela knows it.” He rubbed his close-trimmed beard. “What I need to ascertain is some means of leaving Praha in such a way that neither Bela nor Otakar can hold it against—”

  “The people of Santu-Germaniu,” Hruther finished for him. He got up from the upholstered bench. “Do you think Konig Bela would relent and permit you to return to Santu-Germaniu? You have enriched the Konige with so many jewels, might not Konig Bela want some of the same bounty?”

  “Probably not,” said Rakoczy. “My … heir will have to wait until Konig Bela dies to return to Santu-Germaniu.” He had long since made a habit of leaving property and businesses and fortunes to himself in the form of a nephew or a cousin; in this instance the device was crucial, not simply convenient, and he had gone to great pains to make the succession secure. “My cousin will claim the fief when next I go there.”

  “Otakar holds you in high esteem just now, and for all he is away on campaign, his orders protect you. Konig Bela is the one who is in a position to do you harm,” Hruther said, reflecting Rakoczy’s understanding. “He, and the French Episcopus.”

  “So the city walls are still my prison, because Konig Bela would exact a higher price for my venturing beyond the city than Otakar would,” said Rakoczy as if confirming something he already knew.

  Hruther studied Rakoczy, his long years of serving him giving him insight into Rakoczy’s behavior. “My master, you have done as much as any man in Bohemia to support the Konige and her Court, as her grandfather ordered you to do. You have shown no favor to the Konig Bela’s heir, for all that he rules in Transylvania, nor have you allied yourself with the Hapsburg interests. You have not looked beyond the Carpathians for alliances to the east. You have not taken part in any rebellion against Konig Bela. Your service to Konige Kunigunde is beyond any question. If you were to take a day to go into the countryside to evaluate the extent of the flood damage, how could Konig Bela possibly object, since it would be in service to the Konige as well as to Otakar? You are doing what you would do for your own fief if such misfortune befell it. If you took one of the Hungarians from the Konige’s Court, Bela would never regard that as a breach of your exile.”

  “If it suited his purposes, he would,” Rakoczy said, unmoving.

  “You won’t make the attempt?”

  “Not yet,” said Rakoczy. “It is too much risk.”

  “Do not despair,” Hruther said bracingly, his ascetical features lighting with sympathy. “You will find the means to leave here.”

  “And go where?” Rakoczy shook his head. “I could not return to Santu-Germaniu without bringing Konig Bela’s or his heir’s wrath upon my fief. I would have to get away unnoticed and find a place where I could remain untouched and unknown for as long as Konig Bela lives, and hope that Bela’s suspicions are not shared by his son.” For a short while he said nothing more. “If Konig Bela offered sufficient reward, I might have to go back to China to be safe.” He chuckled sadly to show he knew that was not possible with the descendants of Jenghiz Khan spreading from China to Baghdad.

  “Where would you go?—if you could leave here without hazard?” Hruther inquired, hoping to turn Rakoczy’s mind to more energetic cogitation. “Constantinople? Alexandria?”

  Rakoczy considered his answer for a moment, then said lowly, “The Pays d’Oc would be a possibility. Perhaps Lisboa. Grodno m
ight be a safe place for a few years. So might Bruges, or Uppsala, or Novgorod, as long as we are beyond the reach of Hungary and the Holy Roman Empire, and so long as my vassals are not held to account on my behalf.”

  “Then you think Otakar will become Emperor,” said Hruther.

  “He may, but if he does, it will be hard-won. He has done much to expand Bohemian territories, but that has created spite in many of those rulers around him who have lost ground to him. They will not be likely to support him, and that could end his chances.” Rakoczy sighed. “Where would you like to go, old friend, assuming we find some means to leave here safely?”

  “I?” Hruther looked startled. “Roskilde, or if that is too near the Holy Roman Empire, then Opslo or Aberffraw, or perhaps London, at least for ten years or until Konig Bela is no longer a threat. His heir has little reason to continue to hold your fief and vassals hostage.”

  “He may decide he does,” said Rakoczy.

  Hruther shrugged. “He would do better reclaiming Hungarian territory from Otakar if he wishes to strengthen Hungary.”

  “I worry for Balint. It would be poor return for good service to have him taken prisoner by Konig Bela as a means of forcing my hand.” He paused, sinking into thought. “If I knew what Konige Kunigunde has told her grandfather in my regard, I would be more able to decide.”

  “Would she be likely to tell you what she has said in her reports?” Hruther asked, anticipating the answer. “No, I suppose not.”

  “No,” Rakoczy agreed.

  “This is an impasse for you,” Hruther said, concern showing in his faded-blue eyes.

  “True enough, but there should be a way to work through it, given enough time.” He sat up, his face shadowed. “I wish I knew how matters stand at Santu-Germaniu. It would ease my mind.”