Otakar married twice; both were political unions, the first to Marghete of Austria, who was almost thirty years his senior, who retired, handsomely recompensed, to a nunnery in 1260; the second in 1261 to Kunigunde of Halicz, granddaughter of King Bela of Hungary, whose kingdom included most of modern Romania, the northern third of Bulgaria, eastern Croatia, Slovakia, and the eastern end of Austria. Kunigunde, younger than Otakar by about fifteen years, was the mother of Otakar II’s three children, including his only legitimate son, who became Vaclav II; her father was Rosztiszlo, Grand Duke of Kiev and King of Bulgaria, and her mother was Anna of Hungary, all very desirable political connections for Otakar.
At this time in history, most of the people of Europe—and the rest of the world, for that matter—were illiterate. Nearly all the centers of education were run by the Church, and as such, perpetuated the Church’s role of record-keeper, historian, diplomatic liaison, and document-maker. Even the upper classes were largely dependent on Church-schooled scribes—usually monks—for the preparation of their official papers. As a result, almost all contemporary records of this period are in Church Latin, often with an admixture of local usage and dialect. Most of eastern Europe was a linguistic hodge-podge of Slavic, German, Baltic, and Balkan tongues with some Latin influences; spelling was not standardized, and names of persons and places appeared in many forms. By far the most disconcerting country for such confusion was Hungary; it had five distinct languages being used at the time of this book; Magyar was the most common of the lot, but it was not unusual for Hungarians living only a few miles apart to be completely unintelligible to one another.
For the sake of clarity rather than authenticity, I have chosen one version of all city, country, and personal names and used that consistently throughout the book. Whenever possible I have chosen the ones that are most commonly found in the records of the time; when that has been impossible to determine, I have chosen the word or name closest to modern usage. Titles of nobility were generally recorded in their Latin versions, and I have maintained that in this novel to avoid confusion and to make it easier to equate the old titles with current ones: hence, dux, meaning leader, which becomes duke in English and doge in Venetian, or comes—pronounced CO-mays—which becomes comte in French, count in English, and conte in Italian; other titles such as pan are uniquely Bohemian: pan is roughly the equivalent of baron, meaning something along the lines of land-holding-martial-aristocrat-not-directly-related-to-the-ruler. Otakar II, in most of his official documents, preferred the German derivative rytir (rider) for knights, meaning titled men who were permitted to ride horseback in royal processions and were expected to provide fighting men for the King’s use in war; it was also the title conferred upon mounted fighters who distinguished themselves in battle. Customs of conferring knighthood were not as strictly defined in Bohemia as they were in England and France. Traditionally, knighthood usually bound the knight directly to the King rather than to a chain of aristocratic command, and the honors knighthood conferred did not pass to the heirs of the knight, but lasted only for the life of the knight. In terms of religious titles, Latin is also used, with a few regional variations of the period—Pader (Bohemian) and Pater (Hungarian), father, for priests; Episcopus for bishops; Frater, brother, for monks; and Sorer, sister, for nuns. As regards Otakar himself, he used both Rex and Konig for his titles, so I have opted for Konig for him and Konige for Kunigunde. The honorific used for the rulers in Bohemia at the time translates roughly as dear Royal, so that is how the honorific appears in these pages.
Being a younger son and therefore intended for the Church, Otakar himself seems to have had a rudimentary level of literacy, enough to be able to leave a small amount of personal letters and lyrics that are not in the handwriting of his clerks and scribes, and are consistent with his signatures on various official documents. As was the custom of the time, he left most of the writing chores to his scribes and clerks, such activities being considered inappropriate for reigning royalty. Like most aristocratic men of his time, Otakar could read music and play stringed instruments. Also in keeping with his position Otakar had a Court Scholar for most of his reign, lavishly rewarding the men who fulfilled this post, as was his habit, for providing him with reliable information; the Court Scholars, whose names have not come down to us in any verifiable form, were charged with interviewing travelers as well as pursuing more academic studies, and with sponsoring the making of books.
Like many Medieval rulers, Otakar’s amusements were hawking, hunting, carousing, and gambling. Legend says he was given to bouts of self-indulgence and occasional debauchery, but there is little solid evidence of these lubricities; then again, there is no sure indication that he did not indulge, either. That he was reported to have been involved in orgies is hardly surprising, since similar tales were circulating about most of the aristocrats and royalty at that time. While Otakar II often had the opportunity for such behavior, and may very well have enjoyed himself in ways that officially scandalized the Church, his private activities remain more rumors than facts. What we do know about him is that after his rebellion against his father, until he was forgiven and reinstated as Vaclav’s heir, he spent most of his time hunting and in riotous living; once he became King of Bohemia, his ambitions burgeoned and he appears to have devoted most of his time to territorial expansion and political maneuvering.
For most of the two-plus years covered in this novel, Otakar was on campaign, a significant part of his personal Court accompanying him into battle. Konige Kunigunde divided her time between Praha and Pressburg, apparently staying in Praha during her pregnancies because the city was far from the dangers of disputed territories and the threat of kidnaping, where her lavish and opulent Court could take care of her. Contemporary records imply that she was not well after the birth of her first child, Kunigunde of Bohemia, in 1265; her two later pregnancies evoked great concern for her health, emotional as well as physical. It is likely that she suffered from some form of postpartum depression, given that one of the more reliable observations of the time says that Kunigunde was prone to melancholy following the birth of her three children. Other accounts of the time often describe her as meek and submissive—both considered desirable virtues at the time—but subject to occasional outbursts of passion, which were attributed to her Hungarian nature.
In matters of nomenclature, the aristocracy and royalty of most eastern European states put their family names before their personal names if they were male—Przemysl Otakar II—or occasionally, when dealing with Germans or Italians, he styled himself Otakar II of Bohemia, in the manner of most western European royalty of the time. Aristocratic females put the personal name first, with their estate name following of or from—Rozsa of Borsod—and did not take their husbands’ names. Royal children were usually identified by the names of their estates, in the same manner as noblewomen were. Merchants were usually identified by the goods they sold—Josko the mercer—or by the city from which they traded—Vlach of Bruno. Working men also often had a personal name, followed by an of or from, indicating where they lived—Gazsi of Raab. However, when a family had been established in a profession for three generations or more, then the family name appeared before the personal name, many times derived from occupations, the founding ancestor’s name, or nicknames, and usually followed by the name of the city, town, or village of residence—Tirz Agoston of Mures. Peasants and common people had no family names as such, but often had either a patronymic—Donat-son-of-Mozes—or an occupation name—Antal-the-smith.
Like all European Medieval societies, Bohemian and Hungarian merchants and aristocrats kept slaves to do the most unpleasant, most basic labor of household and personal maintenance. They also controlled most of the land and the serfs who worked them in conditions almost identical to slavery. The vast majority of these slaves came from the territories to the east of their countries, especially the Principalities of Russia, although some came from the Middle East, where the slave-trade flourished. Slaves wer
e expensive, not only to purchase but to keep, and as such were something of a status symbol for those who owned them.
Standards of measurement were a bit haphazard, but in terms of measuring distance, the Bohemian league seems to have been a bit shorter than the Roman one, being about two and a third miles as compared to the Roman three-mile leagues. Various other regions of Europe had slightly different versions of leagues, so calculating distance was never an easy task. Nautical measurement of distance was also different from region to region: the ships of the Hanseatic League used a different standard than the Venetian Empire did, and Spain used still another standard. Italy, although fragmented, kept to the Roman league. To limit the confusion, I have used the Bohemian league throughout, applying it to both land and sea. For acreage, the plowing standard seems to have been maintained, and will be used here. Tuns, bushels, crocks, and bales had a great deal of leeway in terms of sizes. Animals and people were measured in terms of hands—horses still are—which has been standardized to four inches—fifteen hands equals sixty inches, or five feet. Although the hand was not so fixed at the time, for clarity it is reckoned by the modern four inches in this story.
The middle of the thirteenth century was a busy time elsewhere: in France the cathedral of Notre Dame in Amiens was completed (1268) and King Louis IX went on Crusade, but died of plague, along with most of his army (1270) before reaching the Middle East; the Crusades were finally winding down. Albertus Magnus and Thomas Aquinas were writing. In what is now Turkey, a severe earthquake in 1268 caused three years of social and economic chaos and ended up helping the Turks take over Anatolia, beginning the first steps toward the Ottoman Empire. The Hanseatic League was expanding, and the increased trade from their member-cities spurred international trade, which strengthened Bohemia’s economy, for the overland routes—not as active or as visible as the sea routes but important nonetheless—between the Venetian Empire and the Hansa cities went through Bohemia, making it a trading power to be reckoned with. The great German minnesinger Tannhauser died in 1271 at the considerably advanced age of sixty-five. Another significant death, that of Pope Clement IV in 1268, brought upheaval in the Church when he was succeeded by the Anti-Pope Gregory X, who reigned unofficially from 1271 until 1276. Also in 1271 Kublai Khan founded the Yuan Dynasty in China, the same year that Niccolo, Maffeo, and Niccolo’s seventeen-year-old son Marco Polo set out from Acre, bound for Asia. In England the following year, Henry III died while his heir was on Crusade; upon notification of his father’s demise some two months after the event, he returned to England the following year to reign as Edward I. Europe at that time was crowded, the population at levels that would not be seen again until the latter part of the eighteenth century. 1275 to 1345 would see Bohemia lose ground to an expanding Lithuania, the increasing belligerence of the Ottoman Turks, the end of what is sometimes called the Medieval Warm Period, the start of the Little Ice Age, and the arrival of Bubonic Plague in Europe, which from 1346 to 1379 reduced the population of Europe by between 35 and 40 percent, creating a social and economic vacuum that would open the door for the Renaissance, sixty years later.
Incidentally, Otakar’s monetary activities left one lasting impression on the world: the standard silver coin struck during his reign was named for the Bohemian town in which it was mined—the town of Tolar, which the Germans called Thaller, and resulted in the name dollar.
* * *
As with all the books in this series, I have some people to thank in the preparation of this one: to Lucas Bortin, for access to his material on Medieval manuscripts and diplomatic documents of the period, including some of the remaining records of Otakar’s Court Scholars; to Juana Cardones, for information on Bohemian Medieval architecture, furnishings, and household management; to Betty Fuller, for access to her research on the end of the Medieval Warm Period; to Klaus Lowenstein, for information on Court life in Medieval Bohemia; to Jamie Mattissen, for access to her library on eastern European textiles and clothing in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries; to Inge Porrenheim, for information on Konige Kunigunde’s Court; to Janet Tworek, for information on the economy of Bohemia and the transition from a barter-and-labor standard of exchange to a money-based one; to Peter Quarterod, for information on mining and smelting in Medieval Bohemia, and Bohemian coinage policies; and to William Wilson, Jr., for information on the Bohemian/Hungarian military campaigns of the thirteenth century, including disputed accounts of certain events associated with them. If I have strayed from their excellent information, I plead exigencies of storyline, and take full blame for my errors, with apologies to these good people who have been so generous with their help and expertise.
At the publishing end of the process, my thanks, as always, go out to my agent, Irene Kraas; to my online publicist, the incomparable Wiley Saichek; to my editor at Tor, Melissa Singer; and to all the good people at Tor. Also I wish to thank my attorney, Robin A. Dubner, who continues to protect Saint-Germain; to Lindig Harris for her e-newsletter, Yclept Yarbro; to the Yahoo C. Q. Yarbro chat group; to Paula Guran, who womans my Web site, www.ChelseaQuinnYarbro.net; to Libba Campbell, who proofreads my chapters as I complete them. Thanks also to Tony Harrison, Eleanor Prinus, and Chris Webster, my recreational readers; to Sharon Russell, Stephanie Moss, Elizabeth Miller, Maureen Kelly, and Alice Horst for their interest and support; to Gaye, Megan, Marc, Brian, Charlie, Peggy, Lori, Christine, and Jim, with nods to David, Peter, and Eggert, just because; and to Crumpet, Butterscotch, and Ekaterina the Great for their splendid feline companionship. Most especially, thanks to my readers and the bookstore owners who supply them with these tales. I wouldn’t have made it to this, book #24, without you.
CHELSEA QUINN YARBRO
Berkeley, California
By Chelsea Quinn Yarbro from Tom Doherty Associates
Ariosto
Better in the Dark
Blood Games
Blood Roses
Borne in Blood
Burning Shadows
A Candle for d’Artagnan
Come Twilight
Communion Blood
Crusader’s Torch
A Dangerous Climate
Dark of the Sun
Darker Jewels
A Feast in Exile
A Flame in Byzantium
Hotel Transylvania
Mansions of Darkness
Out of the House of Life
The Palace
Path of the Eclipse
Roman Dusk
States of Grace
Writ in Blood
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
AN EMBARRASSMENT OF RICHES: A NOVEL OF THE COUNT SAINT-GERMAIN
Copyright © 2011 by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro
All rights reserved.
A Tor® eBook
Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC
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New York, NY 10010
www.tor-forge.com
Tor® is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Yarbro, Chelsea Quinn, 1942–
An embarrassment of riches : a novel of the Count Saint-Germain / Chelsea Quinn Yarbro.—1st ed.
p. cm.
“A Tom Doherty Associates book.”
ISBN 978-0-7653-3103-8
1. Saint-Germain, comte de, d. 1784—Fiction. 2. Vampires—Fiction. 3. Bohemia (Czech Republic)—History—To 1526—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3575.A7E63 2011
813'.54—dc22
2010036539
First Edition: March 2011
eISBN 978-1-4299-1889-3
First Tor eBook Edition: March 2011
Saint-Germain 24: An Embarrassment of Riches: A Novel of the Count Saint-Germain Page 38
