The Musician's Daughter

by Susanne Dunlap

  No, I did not want to tell her any of this. Alida did not deserve such unhappiness. Yet I knew that soon I would have to find a way to say something, or all hope of justice would be gone.

  “Liesl, Rebekah,” Alida said to the two girls, “I believe it is time to take the archduchess her tonic. Would you care to do it, so that I may stay with my cousin?”

  Clearly this was a great honor that Alida bestowed on her two charges. They stood up at once, nearly dropping their work on the floor, and could barely restrain themselves from running out of the room to accomplish this task.

  As soon as we were alone, Alida turned to me. “Tell me quickly. We have very little time.”

  I gave her my information in as few words as possible, telling her about the raid on the camp and Danior’s peril. But I could not tell her that final piece of information, about my own guilt. I simply couldn’t.

  “He could be in the dungeons below,” she murmured, already far away from where we were and thinking rapidly, I could see.

  “The violin,” I said, “Danior’s violin. It contains documents.” I pointed. I had also not told her about my climb to the top of the pyre of house hold effects, or my desperate rescue of Mirela. I thought it best to distress her as little as possible.

  Her eyes opened wide. “You brought them? Here?”

  I thought for a moment I had made some terrible mistake and was about to apologize.

  She lifted her hand to stop me from speaking. “You cannot know what you have done!” she said, leaping from her chair and pacing across the room. “Now that we have them, I must think how best to bring our case.” I had never seen Alida so agitated. She ran to me and crouched beside my chair, taking both my hands in hers. “Don’t you see? If these are even half the documents we have been collecting, we have proof! I wanted to show them to the archduchess long ago, but my brother said we should wait until we had the final evidence. But this is enough, I am certain! The Gypsies will be freed, and we will regain our lands.”

  And then you and Danior could marry, I thought, more hoping than believing that would be so.

  “Can we not take these to the emperor or the empress right away?” I asked.

  Alida wilted visibly before my eyes. “The empress is always ill. The emperor has been running things, but as her son he still has little real power. Everything he decides has to be ratified by the councilors. Including your uncle.”

  “Then how—?”

  “Tomorrow all prisoners who were captured today will be brought before a magistrate to be judged and sentenced,” she said. “We must find a way to make an extraordinary appeal. This can occur only if someone is sentenced to death, and there is a strong possibility he has been wrongly accused.”

  “And if the appeal fails?” I hardly wanted to know. Alida did not answer.

  I could tell that she warred with herself, trying to maintain control over her feelings. “I cannot go. It would cause a scandal and probably harm rather than help the cause. Can you perform this one final service for us? After this, we will either have won, or we will be completely lost.”

  I wondered exactly what she could ask of me that was more dangerous than anything I had already done. “Toby is still safe here?” I asked.

  “Yes. You need not worry on his account.”

  I agreed to attempt what ever task she gave me. It was the least I could do, with Danior imprisoned for a crime that I had committed. In the few minutes we had left to ourselves before the other maids of honor returned, she explained everything to me.

  When she finished, I asked, “Where is Zoltán now?” I longed to see him. To know he was safe. Even though Danior was in such great peril, I felt as if I would die if anything had happened to Zoltán.

  “Don’t worry, he is safe.” Alida touched my cheek when she said this. She knows how I feel, I thought. “He has taken the general to a place where he will not be found. When I inform him of our next steps, he will bring our prisoner forward. It must all be done with the utmost precision. If the timing is not exactly right, they will be able to lock us all away forever.”

  I spent an agonizing, quiet evening with Alida and her young charges, my heart fluttering about what I would have to do the next day. They all seemed happy to have me as a guest, and the servants took my presence in stride. I was surprised to discover that ladies in the imperial palace slept in beds that were no softer than my own humble bed, and kept the same hours as a farmer, retiring soon after sunset and awakening before sunrise.

  CHAPTER 26

  Mirela had spent the night with the maids in an attic room of the Hofburg. She must have awakened very early to be up before we were, but she came in to “help me dress,” she said. Fortunately, the younger maids had duties to attend to that took them away from us so we had a few moments where just the three of us could talk.

  “I shall go with Theresa, of course,” Mirela said, pacing up and back like a caged panther after we had finished listening to Alida explain everything I must do that morning.

  “It’s best if you stay out of the way.” Alida grabbed hold of Mirela’s wrist as she passed by her, gently but firmly making her stand in one place.

  “But I want to help Danior! He is like my brother.” Mirela’s beseeching eyes filled with tears.

  “You will not help him by getting yourself recognized as one of the band from the encampment. Besides, there may be something else we need you to do.”

  Alida gave Mirela a warm smile, and Mirela blinked her tears away rapidly, doing her utmost to smile in return. “Well, that is different,” she said, and sat on the edge of a chair while Alida finished giving me my instructions. We fixed it that I would part from Alida and the other ladies on the pretext that I was going to the shops to look for a ribbon of a particular color.

  When we joined Liesl and Rebekah for breakfast, I wondered if they could see right through me and only out of politeness didn’t say anything, or whether necessity had made me an excellent liar. What ever the case, they accepted our explanation without question, and after eating only a few bites of bread and drinking half a glass of tea I departed from their presence on my grim business.

  Outside the magistrates’ court the atmosphere was like a carnival. Common people jostled for positions that would get them seats inside, where they would be able to hear prisoners accused of foul crimes and hear people beg for their lives and their dignity. A juggler tossed flaming torches into the air, and elegant carriages lined up waiting for the doors to open so the wealthy could enjoy a day’s entertainment hoping that someone would be condemned to hang.

  Alida had provided me with clothing that was a little less fine than the gown I had procured from Mademoiselle Helene’s the day before, and I had a long, warm cloak with a hood that covered my face almost completely. She had told me where to stand for the greatest likelihood of getting one of the few places reserved for the rabble, in the balcony, and had given me exact instructions about what I was to say and when to say it.

  While I waited, I had a few moments to reflect. Somewhere between the day before and the morning of the trial, my entire world had been set on its ear. Events and people had pushed me beyond limits I thought were built of unyielding stone, starting on Christmas Eve, when Zoltán and the others brought my father’s body to our apartment. But it was more than just the outside things, the world that was not under my control, that had changed. I had discovered that I had wits and, I supposed, courage—although looked at in another light it could be considered a sort of madness, and my courage had failed me when it came to admitting to Alida that Danior might hang for my offense. Yet provided I was able to keep my wits about me and focus all my thoughts on the matter at hand, I would be able to achieve something that was important not just to me, but to a whole group of people who were depending on me alone.

  The doors of the Rathaus opened. I slipped through the crowd just as Alida had instructed me, rehearsing her soothing words as I went. “They will not want to let you pass,” she ha
d said, “but you are slender and agile and will get through before they even notice.” Sheer necessity made me bold as I subtly elbowed my way past older men and women who cast hostile glances at me, squeezing through the door and up the stairs to the balcony, boldly stepping over the rows of benches to get a prime position near the front. I was well settled in my place when I heard the groan of disappointment after the guards closed the doors behind me. No more than seventy people had been admitted, whereas the crowd that was trying to enter had amounted easily to several hundred.

  The nobles and other wealthy people had not had to push in among us common folk. They simply sauntered into the chairs below that had been specially reserved for them, although I could tell they were nonetheless eager for the spectacle to begin. From high and low I heard excited voices conjecture about the day’s proceedings.

  “They say there’s a Gypsy murderer among the accused,” said a man.

  “What matter if anyone murder a Gypsy?” replied a woman next to him. “There’re too many of them as it is.”

  Several people laughed at the misunderstanding. I felt my face burn.

  “No, I mean a Gypsy has murdered someone. A noble or something.”

  “A councilor,” said a third voice.

  My ears tingled. Had my uncle died? He had looked alive enough when I saw him seated atop a horse the day before. Alive and kicking—hard. The conversation turned to other matters: a pickpocket who might have his hand chopped off, since he’d been caught already several times before, and a few whores who might be publicly flogged. “It’s not like the old days, though,” said one grizzled gentleman to my right. “Now that the emperor has his say, they never use the acid or the barbs on the ends of the whips.”

  My papa had taken me to a public execution once, a little over a year before. “Look,” he had told me. “Do not be tempted to glance away. That fellow there—the one who is being bound to those boards so that the executioner can break his bones into little pieces under the wheel—he was caught poaching rabbits to feed his starving family. And that woman, the one they’ve stripped half naked? A prostitute. She is guilty only of selling the use of her body to the same guards who keep public order. They will whip her until you can see the white bones of her ribs.” I was already crying before a single blow was struck. My father took me away, relinquishing our good view to two young boys who were happy to have it. “Remember this well, Theresa,” he had said. “There is injustice in this world. Never turn your back on it.”

  He told me, too, that the young emperor believed in justice, and wanted to better the lives of the poor as well as to allow all people to practice the religions they cherished. Today, I was counting on Joseph II’s renowned clemency and his lack of tolerance for corruption. Although it was too late for my father, there was still time for Danior, and for Alida and Zoltán—and Haydn, who stood also to lose more than money if he could not fulfill his contract with Artaria. I wondered what he would do or where he would go if he were dismissed from the prince’s service, or worse.

  I don’t know why I looked to my right, along the row of common folk waiting for everything to begin. Maybe it was because I felt someone staring at me. But I lifted my eyes just long enough to see Herr Schnabl seated at the far end of the balcony, and to know that he saw me. I stifled a gasp. What is he doing here? I thought. He should be on his way to the Esterhazy palace to rehearse. I concentrated on staring straight ahead. I would not look at him again, although I could feel the blood washing into my face.

  At last a fanfare announced the entrance of the magistrate. He arrived in state, wearing a full-bottomed wig and the insignia of the empress. For small matters, Alida had explained to me, he was the representative of the state, and, except in certain circumstances, had complete discretion to dispense justice as he chose.

  The guards quieted the crowd. The first prisoners entered. People squirmed in their seats as the petty criminals were sentenced to floggings and to pay fines, or perform hard labor, or be banished from the empire. Lewd whistles followed the whores in and out of the court. By the sores on their faces and their red eyes, I judged they were sick with syphilis and wouldn’t live much longer anyway.

  “They always haul in those that are too old to give satisfaction anymore,” complained one fellow in a loud voice.

  “That’s because the guards aren’t through using the others yet!” said another, setting off a round of raucous laughter.

  The room quieted, though, for the next prisoner. My eyes filmed over when I saw Danior led in at the end of a rope, like a stallion who’d just been broken to the bit. He stood tall, although I could see by the bruises on his bare arms and his face that he’d been beaten. He lifted his chin up and scanned the crowd. The defiance in his eyes made everyone shrink back a little. I leaned forward. I did not want to show my face yet. Danior probably had no idea that he had a friend in the room.

  I thought the evidence would go much the same way as it had for the other criminals, where a tired-sounding official read out the charges in a monotone and the magistrate swiftly gave his verdict. But to my surprise, a door on the other side of the magistrate’s chair opened and my uncle walked through it, his arm bandaged even more heavily than before and strapped across his chest for added effect. I gasped, my breath trapped in my lungs, afraid to breathe. He stopped several paces away from Danior, who had not flinched, or even flicked his eyes in my uncle’s direction.

  “Face your accuser, criminal!” snarled Uncle Theobald.

  “It’ll be death for sure!” whispered a lady behind me.

  “I thought the councilor’d been killed,” said a man.

  “Silence!” roared the major domo, pounding his staff on the floor.

  “This man,” my uncle continued, “attacked me in my own home, with the purpose of murdering me and robbing my house of its valuables.”

  The silence was thick enough to slice with a knife.

  “What say you to your accuser?” the magistrate asked.

  Danior turned slowly until his steady gaze was trained on the councilor’s smug face. He worked his mouth as though he were going to speak, but instead, spat at him with such force that a globule of saliva landed on my uncle’s bandaged arm.

  Immediately the crowd exclaimed and shouted, “Hang him! The blackguard!” The major domo pounded his staff on the floor again, and again yelled “Silence” until everyone quieted.

  “As you have nothing to say in your own defense, and no friends to attest for you,” the magistrate said, “and your crime is against a councilor of Vienna, I hereby sentence you to be hanged by the neck, then taken down while you are still alive to have your entrails cut from your body and burned before you. After that, your limbs and head are to be separated from your body and dispersed to the four corners of the empire. The execution will take place in St. Stephen’s square, tomorrow at dawn.”

  That was my cue. I stood up suddenly. Although my mouth was completely dry, my voice rang out clear and loud. “I wish to challenge this sentence, and possess evidence to vindicate the accused.”

  If I thought the uproar was mighty after Danior spat at my uncle, it was nothing to the complete mayhem my pronouncement caused. When I stood, I had pulled back my hood to reveal my face. My uncle looked up at me with shock that soon turned to intense hatred. I knew that so long as both of us were free, I would never be safe. Danior looked up at me, too, with an expression of wonder I shall never forget. I realized only then that he had given up hope and assumed the outcome. His eyes held gratitude, but also fear. He must be worrying about Alida, I thought. Now, my actions had both created the possibility for his salvation and assured that all the evil deeds that had previously been hidden from sight would be revealed.

  It took quite some time for the court to settle down. I remained standing, waiting for the instructions that would set the hour when Danior and I would be permitted to go before the empress or her son with our petition.

  “The woman who speaks so eloquently
in this Gypsy’s defense has clearly not studied the law,” my uncle said, his eyes hard but his mouth twisting up into a grimace of a smile. “Which is hardly surprising, as she is an ignorant peasant. No appeal is granted when the accuser himself appears in court, if his rank is such to place him above suspicion.”

  Is this true? I thought. Murmurs rippled through the court. The magistrate himself called for a large book to be brought, and spent agonizing minutes tracing over the lines with his finger. After a time, he closed the volume with a resounding thud. “Apparently, the councilor is correct. The sentence stands as given.”

  I hardly noticed the room empty around me. I watched Danior be led away, his movement impeded by the chains that linked his ankles together. My uncle walked out with a swagger that made me wish I had the pistol now. How could I return to Alida and tell her what had happened? All our hope was lost. I pulled my hood back over my face, praying that no one would notice me when I left, and that I could lose myself in the crowd before my uncle sent someone after me. I especially tried not to look in the direction of where Schnabl had been sitting, but once I got into the open air and the crowd emptying out of the courtroom began to disperse around me, I felt a hand grasp my arm. Before I thought of jerking away and running off, I turned my head and saw not my uncle or a guard, but old Schnabl. I pulled my arm free of his grasp and continued walking rapidly.

  “Wait! Fräulein Schurman!” he called after me.

  I turned. He was rushing as much as he could, but he could not move quickly. I felt people staring at me and whispering around me and wanted desperately just to flee, but Schnabl did not look as though he wished to entrap me, only as if he wanted to tell me something urgently. I paused to let him catch up, then continued walking off at a speed he could match, ensuring that a few paces always remained between us. “What is it you want, Herr Schnabl?”

  “Only that I need to say something to you, but not here. Please. You must give me a chance. It is about your father!”