The Musician's Daughter

by Susanne Dunlap

  I knew—and I could tell by his expression he knew that I knew—that she had very likely spent the night with a lover, not her “cousin.”

  “Please, Godfather, I must speak with you. Toby is gone, and I don’t know where he is.” I told him quickly about my adventure in my uncle’s cellar, and my trip through the sewers.

  “Perhaps he is safe at home. You go and freshen up then join me for some breakfast, and I will send someone to your house to see if he is there. He could have walked back from the assembly rooms. The distance is not far.”

  I knew what he said was possible, but after everything else that had befallen me, I hardly dared hope the explanation was so simple.

  The use of Madame Haydn’s scented dressing room, a hot bath in a copper tub, and a clean shift and simple dress did much to soothe me after my adventurous night. The maid also removed the splinter from my hand—which turned out not to be so very bad—and bound up the wound. Once I had refreshed myself, I joined my godfather for a simple meal. Between mouthfuls of fresh sausage and warm bread I tried to answer his questions as best I could.

  “If Toby is not there, my mother will be worried,” I said, imagining what bad effect such a concern might have on her in her delicate state.

  “Do not be alarmed,” my godfather said, “I sent for Zoltán. He will know just what to say.”

  For a moment I was lost in thought, thinking back over the scenes of the night before and wondering if I missed some clue that would solve the mystery of my brother’s disappearance. I didn’t notice that Haydn had gone quiet and cleared his throat politely.

  “I hesitate to add to your worries,” he began, once I had finished my breakfast, “but I find myself in more urgent need than ever of your help. Perhaps if you are not too tired you could spend an extra hour with me today?”

  “Of course, Godfather,” I said. “But have you not thought about seeing a doctor who might be able to fix your eyes? There is an operation now, I have heard. Mama and Greta were talking about it a few months ago. They can uncloud your vision.”

  The maestro grimaced. “And what if they fail?”

  I could not answer him. And I also knew the surgery would be very painful, from everything my mother had said. The idea of someone cutting into one’s eye—I didn’t know if I could persuade myself to do it. But there was so much at stake.

  “I must deliver three symphonies and four string quartets to Artaria by the day after tomorrow if I am to honor the contract I signed, as well as creating new works every day for the prince. You have already helped me with a quartet and a symphony, but as you see, it’s not quite enough. And next week he expects an opera, which will mean assembling it from scattered bits, and replacing the substitute arias with something original.”

  I knew about the practice of taking popular arias with only the words changed and inserting them into a new opera, so the audience could have something familiar to hum and the diva could show off with something she knew well. But I saw that in this instance it made it more difficult for Haydn to furnish an entirely original opera. Indeed, I did not see how we could finish half that amount without spending most of the next two days working—and he had rehearsals and performances, and I had to find Toby and put a stop to my uncle’s activities—with only a vague grasp of exactly what they were.

  We got immediately to work. I did my best to concentrate despite the worries that threatened to overwhelm me at every moment, reminding myself that there was nothing more I could do until Zoltán was made acquainted with everything that had passed the night before. Zoltán had previously said my uncle bribed the other members of the council so that things would go the way the nobles in Hungary wished. Where did the councilor get his money? Were the nobles themselves so wealthy? I became convinced that there was more concealed behind my uncle’s remarkable affluence that I did not know about. He was a clever businessman, so my mother had told me, a merchant who traded in goods that everyone needed—wheat for flour and oil for lamps. But would cleverness be enough to account for his rise to such heights of influence, without a hereditary title and lands?

  When the doorbell tinkled around noon, my mind had wandered so far from my surroundings that I jumped and sent a blot of ink from the tip of my pen over the page, spoiling the last quarter-hour’s work. “I’ll copy it out again. It won’t take a moment!” I said.

  I started scribbling quickly. Within a short time, I heard Zoltán’s solid, determined footsteps approaching. He entered the room without knocking.

  “Your brother is not at home,” he said, mercifully dispensing with formalities.

  I felt a peculiar sensation of something flowing through my veins. I could not tell if it was scorching heat or ice. Toby was not at home. My worst fears were confirmed. “What did you say to my mother?” I asked, barely able to speak above a whisper.

  “I told her you had both spent the night at your uncle’s. She appeared content with that explanation.”

  I wondered how much longer we could keep her ignorant of what was passing outside her bedroom, in a world where she thought her children were safe. “Do you have any idea where Toby … he’s so young …” I could not form the words.

  Zoltán passed his hand across his eyes. “My sister received this letter. Unfortunately we cannot say exactly where it came from, although we have our ideas.”

  He took a folded piece of paper from inside his waistcoat and handed it to me.

  The release of the general will secure the release of the girl and her brother. We will contact you with details.

  “They think I am still in the sewer,” I said.

  “In the sewer!?”

  Zoltán’s astonishment nearly made me laugh, despite my distress. I explained to him as quickly as I could exactly what had happened.

  “I think we had better make them believe we have not found you,” he said. “You must remain here until I send word that you can leave.”

  “Remain here!” I exclaimed. “I shall do no such thing.”

  “You will be in danger, and you will endanger your brother.”

  “Not if I am in disguise. Haven’t I earned your trust? I cannot just sit by and do nothing.”

  Zoltán did not speak at first. “I won’t—it wouldn’t be—” He gave up and just shook his head.

  I felt a little sorry for him. It crossed my mind briefly that I should do as he said and spare him any more worry. But I knew that if I did not persuade him to include me in what ever they planned to do, I would continue to search without them. I would never forgive myself if something happened to my brother. He was too small and timid to get himself out of difficulties as I was able to. “If you do not let me come with you, I will try to find Toby by myself.”

  “You are hurt already,” he said, pointing to my bandaged hand. “It will be difficult to play the viola, and you might be injured much more seriously if you do as you threaten.”

  “It will be difficult to play in any case. I have no instrument. My mother sold it.” I hadn’t meant my words to sound so peevish and complaining.

  “Why did you not say so, my dear?” Haydn’s voice was kind, but I couldn’t take kindness just then. It made everything too complicated.

  “Just tell me what you need me to do,” I said, not looking at either of them.

  “We’ve persuaded the general to inform us where he thinks you both were taken,” Zoltán said. “He says the most likely place is in the house of your uncle.”

  “That’s impossible—I don’t just mean for me, of course—but I went through my uncle’s house last night before I was trapped and did not find anyone.”

  “But there is nowhere else,” Zoltán said. “We have people inside all the other houses of those Austrians who are in the councilor’s pay, and the Hungarians who make Vienna their winter home.”

  Every time Zoltán told me something more about their cause, I saw its ripples widening far beyond the small world we inhabited, a world full of music and the tribulations and pet
tiness of court life.

  The maestro interrupted him. “You have not hurt the general, have you?”

  Zoltán paused before answering, leaving me wondering when he finally spoke whether he told the truth. “No, he is not harmed. Nor will he be—at least, not in any material way.”

  “Provided this is so, I shall do this evening as you have asked me,” the maestro said. “I presume the concert is still to take place?”

  Zoltán nodded. “Wolkenstein has not canceled. He is too sure of himself to consider the general’s misadventure more than a temporary setback. After all, he has almost as much power behind him as the emperor.”

  Zoltán came to me and took hold of my shoulders, fixing me with his disturbing gaze. “You say you went all over his house. Do you think you can tell us exactly what you found in each room? Down to the tiniest details?”

  “In truth, I had no light, so I cannot describe more than which rooms lead into which, and where the staircases are located. The only place I remember clearly is the cellar.”

  “If you are willing to help, I have been authorized to ask you for one final favor.” Zoltán had let go of my shoulders and looked down at the floor. I waited for him to continue, but something held him back.

  “Do you still doubt me?” I asked.

  “Not doubt,” he said, looking into my eyes again. “I simply hoped you would see sense and protect yourself. However, as you are determined … We want you to go back to your uncle’s house. But this time you will not be alone. And you will be armed.”

  “Armed—how?”

  Zoltán reached under his cloak and removed a pistol. It was not an elegant, pearl-handled dueling pistol such as gentlemen sometimes carry, but an ugly, black monster. I wondered when it had last been used, and for what. “It’s mainly just to frighten,” he said.

  “So I wouldn’t have to fire it, then?”

  “I hope not,” he said. “But one of us will have to make some noise, and we need to ensure that we have the greatest possible opportunity to do so.”

  “Noise?” I asked.

  “The plan is to summon the guards to the councilor’s house at the moment when we have found what we are looking for. Since the guards are controlled by the military and the military is currently under the illusion that Wolkenstein is on their side, they will need some compelling reason to enter, especially during a party. A pistol fired inside the councilor’s residence would be something they could not ignore.” He placed the pistol in my hands. “Think carefully, Rezia. You may be called upon to act in a way that would distress you.”

  The pistol was heavy and cold. For one tiny instant I pictured myself aiming it at my uncle’s heart and pulling the trigger. The image in my mind frightened me. “I’ve never held a firearm before,” I murmured. “Must I truly?”

  “If you want to come, this is the condition,” Zoltán said. “It is too dangerous otherwise. And you will be in disguise. You will appear to be an innocent young fellow newly part of the orchestra. That way you are less likely to attract notice or be singled out to search. Besides, we dare not involve anyone who doesn’t already know what we are about.”

  “What if I am recognized? My uncle may be looking for me.”

  “We have thought about that,” Zoltán said with a smile. “I will tell you the rest later when we meet at my apartment.”

  My godfather rested his gentle hands on my shoulders. “You do not have to go, Theresa.”

  I turned, stood on my tiptoes, and kissed him on both cheeks. “I trust Zoltán. I shall be all right, Godfather. I’ve already managed to survive the sewers.” His smile at my pleasantry was halfhearted at best.

  “Come. Danior is waiting for us. We’ll show you what to do.”

  Haydn loaned me a warm cloak with a hood that was big enough to shadow my face against curious passersby, and Zoltán had come prepared with a mask in case I needed it. I turned to my godfather. “We must finish your scores. I shall come tomorrow and stay as long as you need me.”

  He nodded. I saw a hint of moistness in his clouded eyes just before I turned to go.

  CHAPTER 21

  We all met at Zoltán’s lodgings—Danior, Maya, Zoltán, and I—to discuss the plan. The first things I learned were the details of my disguise as a young man of the orchestra.

  “I think that in boy’s clothing, and with your hair hidden away beneath a wig, you’d pass well enough,” Zoltán said. I wasn’t exactly happy that he thought I could so easily hide my sex. I know I blushed, and I could not look at him as Danior continued explaining what we were all to do.

  Although I had nothing on which to base my impression, the plan sounded as if it would be dangerous to everyone involved. It would all take place at my uncle’s house. He had invited some important guests to a concert to celebrate his victory over those who wanted to extend the reforms to Hungary. The council was supposed to vote against it that very day.

  “It should never have come to this,” said Danior. “Your father should have brought the documents to Haydn, who would have shown them to the prince. Then the vote would have been postponed until after the additional evidence could be placed before the emperor. I have some of the documents your father obtained safely hidden, but not the most important ones, the eyewitness accounts of atrocities.”

  “Someone must have known he had them,” I said, as much to myself as to anyone else.

  “We have the general, which will prevent the other side from winning their vote,” said Zoltán. The vote was close enough so that one man would make a difference, apparently. Although my uncle had managed to secure a lot of support, he couldn’t corrupt everyone.

  Zoltán had drawn a crude map of the ground floor and cellars of my uncle’s house, based upon my description. We clustered around his table as he moved hazelnuts around, explaining which one was who, and how we were to go about finding our way to the cellars in the midst of a party with hundreds of guests.

  “Why is my uncle still having his celebration when the measure will not have passed?” I asked.

  Maya, who had been sitting a little behind the others, now leaned forward. “The Hungarian ambassador is in Vienna. There are rumors that he intends to side with the reformists. Your uncle has apparently discovered that he has a certain weakness for the company of young boys, and intends to facilitate this for him. After that, simple blackmail is all that will be needed to ensure his cooperation.”

  Toby! I thought with horror. Surely my uncle would not do something so horrible to his own nephew. And yet, he had treated me as if I were so much currency to purchase the favors of General Steinhammer, and then had me locked up in the sewers, even if he did intend to let me out eventually.

  Zoltán continued. “Maya will be among the kitchen help, and she will ensure that the pantry is unlocked. The four of you—Danior, two of his men, and you, Rezia—will look for Toby in the cellar. When you have found him and secured his safety, wait for a lull in the music from the dining room above and then one of you—whoever can manage it—fire off a pistol to summon the guards.”

  “Why so much noise? Why not just take Toby away?” I felt a little troublesome asking, but I wanted to be sure I was doing the right thing and not putting Toby in any more danger by my actions.

  “Because we need official witnesses. No one will believe you and Toby, I’m afraid.”

  I had not thought of that. Of course my uncle’s word would carry more weight than mine. There was still one other part of the plan that disturbed me, though. No doubt Uncle Theobald had discovered by now that I had escaped from the sewer and would be looking for me. By walking right back into his house, I would be giving him every chance to apprehend me again. Zoltán had not really answered my question before, so I asked again. “What if,” I started, hardly daring to utter the possibility, “what if my uncle recognizes me, despite my disguise? What would I be doing there?”

  “You will be doing precisely what he would least take notice of,” Zoltán said. “You will be p
erforming music, and therefore number among the menial servants he has hired to entertain his guests.”

  “I—performing music?”

  “The third desk in the violas. The maestro has composed a work that requires an extra viola player.”

  Despite the seriousness of the conversation, Zoltán smiled. I knew that I, too, should be feeling only fear about what was ahead and disgust at my uncle’s illegal activities, but my heart leapt at Zoltán’s words. It had been only a few days since I had last played, yet so much had happened in that time that it felt like an eternity. I longed not only to hear music, but to feel an instrument come alive at the touch of my bow, feel the vibration flow like the river’s current down my arm, through my shoulder, and into my heart. And I would—that very evening. What was still more wonderful was that I would do so among the musicians of the most skilled orchestra in the empire. I realized that perhaps I would play only a little, but even a moment was more than I had ever dreamed possible. Ladies did not play in the orchestra. Ladies sometimes performed harpsichord solos, or sang in the operas. But they did not sit among the men like equals and play under the maestro’s direction.

  “...if you are nervous about it, you don’t need to make any sound at all, you can just pretend,” Zoltán continued.

  I nodded. He probably expected that I couldn’t really play. Of course. What else would he think?

  “I must go now and start working in the councilor’s kitchen,” Maya said.

  “Rezia, you stay here and rest. Here is your musician’s uniform. I’ll return to fetch you at six of the clock.”

  Danior and Zoltán departed with Maya, leaving me alone in Zoltán’s apartment. It was very plain, I noticed. Without him actually in it, I would hardly have known he lived there. Except, of course, for the violin and viola cases on the table. Although I was tempted to do it, he had not given me leave to try out the viola, and in truth, I was very tired. It was hours until the evening. For once I decided to do exactly as I was told and climbed the two steps into the curtained bed to lie down.