“Not really. I stayed in my room as I was told to.”
“I see. Do you have a chambermaid yet?”
“A chambermaid? Uh, no. I’m not sure I need one, do I?” Mary could feel herself blinking in surprise. A servant…
“It’s essential. I want you as efficient as possible. Hofer will assign someone appropriate.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.”
He nodded. “Take a walk and look at Schloss Tratzberg.” He rang a small silver bell on his desk, and the outer door to his office opened. One of the servant girls entered, and curtsied. “Take Mary to see the Countess, and have her take her around the castle and grounds.” He stood, and bowed slightly to Mary. “Mary, personally I am glad you are here, I know that this will turn out to be a mutually beneficial relationship.”
And with that, the interview was ended. Mary was ushered out the door, on her way to meet the count’s wife, Anna Maria von Toerring. Mary knew from her briefings that the count’s wife was in her mid-fifties. She knew that the count and Anna Maria had only been married a few years, and that her first husband had died, and that the count and Anna Maria had no children of their own. She did have children by her previous marriage however. One or two of them were here at the castle.
Mary was ushered into the private quarters of the count and his wife. Their rooms were elegant and large, and the countess was seated at a desk near a fireplace, the desk piled with correspondence in neat stacks and rows. Mary greeted the countess with a curtsey. “Countess Anna Maria, it’s good to finally meet you.”
The countess stood and came to her, standing directly in front of her. She was quiet for a moment, and Mary started to worry if she had done something incorrect. “Leave us.” the countess commanded, her gaze never leaving Mary’s face. Mary was a bit confused, and glanced about. She heard the servant girl close the door behind her. As Mary turned back to look at the countess, she found a stern woman staring back.
The countess was only slightly shorter than Mary, face well lined, but with clear grey eyes and a mouth that had more frown lines than laugh lines. Everything screamed “rigid” to Mary. A frame of spring steel, dressed in a very elegant set of clothing. The effect was intimidating. The countess took a half-step back, and circled Mary. Mary could sense her looking her up and down, and after a complete rotation around her, came back to face Mary once again. Mary met her gaze. It wasn’t easy. This was one scary lady. “These clothes won’t do. Tomorrow I will send you down to Schwaz, in the valley, to get this taken care of. We will have some things made. Can’t have you meet the family while dressed like a servant. I can give you some of my old things until you have yours made, it will take a couple of weeks. You need to get started right away. We have some silver and copper mine managers coming in tomorrow.” This was delivered brusquely, with a directness that Mary found refreshing after the exchanges with Hofer and the servants.
“Yes, your grace. Thank you.”
The countess abruptly turned and walked away from Mary. “You haven’t seen my family’s castle yet, have you?”
“Not all of it, your grace.”
The countess turned and looked at Mary. “The cellar and Regina’s quarters, I believe. And the kitchen where you met Maria, our cook?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s start in the courtyard, then.”
The next two hours were something that Mary never forgot. She knew that Schloss Tratzberg was beautiful, she had seen it from the air, and had seen it dimly as she approached it by candlelight and torch when she first arrived, and a little as she was lead through the back hallways and the kitchen. But that didn’t tell the whole story. The size, scope, and sheer wealth were beyond her immediate absorption. The courtyard was spectacular, with galleries around two of the sides, acting as front hallways for part of the building. The courtyard was painted in a white color, but throughout the courtyard there were painted details in a dusky red and blue, and the whole effect was to tint the courtyard an elegant rose color. There were sundials painted on the higher walls, but the design was unusual, with a thick piece of wire raised off the surface of the wall, and the hour markings painted behind.
There was a big room, ballroom sized, that had the family tree of the Hapsburgs on the walls, the portraits painted nearly life size. The walls in that room were white, the ceiling intricate woodwork, and the fresco type paintings encircled the large hall. It was an over-sized family tree, with blue clouds, rich meadow greens, and lifelike portraits. The genealogy was a literal tree, with vines and branches also painted directly on the walls. Maria Anna explained the castle had been a hunting lodge for Maximilian, the Holy Roman Emperor for many years (not the Maximilian in Bavaria, Mary reminded herself, but the father of the current emperor Ferdinand), and he spent a lot of time there. Deer were painted on the walls among the family tree, and deer antlers were everywhere.
One massive room followed another; each decorated with finery, and filled with furniture. Paintings and portraits lined the walls, room after room, with Maria Anna knowing who each person was in detail, and providing a running commentary.
The castle had been refurbished less than twenty years ago, so everything was new looking, fresh, and clean. It was grander than any grand hotel that Mary could possibly dream of, grander than any storybook castle and easily the most elegant place she had ever been in her life. Part of her began to grasp the wealth of this family, and while much of it wasn’t to her up-time taste, she had learned enough about down-time decorating to know that these people had it. First class taste all the way. They had some unique stoves, which acted like a giant Franklin stove made of ceramics and iron in some of the rooms, far better and less drafty than the typical fireplace. One suite had an indoor privy. There were marble columns, hand carved and mirroring the dusty rose color that glowed in the courtyard. It was a massive building, with nooks and crannies that were realized from something that was grown organically and gradually over the years, not planned out in neat squares like an up-time building. She could see herself getting lost very easily.
As the Countess Maria Anna talked about the castle, her face became less harsh, and the frown lines that Mary had thought were carved into the alabaster stone of her face melted away. She was obviously proud to be a steward of the Schloss, and the pride flowed from her, reflected in her voice. “At one time, this Schloss was the heart of the Holy Roman Empire, much like Vienna is now. While the emperor was based at Innsbruck, this was his home away from court. When the court moved to Vienna, the importance of the castle diminished, and came to the Ilsung family.”
“When did it come to you and the Count?” Mary asked.
“When the count’s father married one of the Ilsung daughters, the marriage was structured in such a way as to include Schloss Tratzberg and the grounds, as well as the staff and responsibilities. It has been the method of the Fugger family’s growth from merchants and bankers to those who have a right to bear arms.”
“You mean firearms, as in bearing arms?”
The countess stopped and looked at Mary, her ridged stone face returning. “No. Arms as in a coat of arms. Did you see, beside each of the people in the genealogy painted on the walls? Those are coats of arms. They are very important symbols. You must learn them if you are to be accepted here as anything other than a rube.”
Mary could feel herself blushing fully. “Oh. I have a lot to learn, I guess.”
The countess looked at Mary with a matter of fact, and at the same time, condescending shrug. “Oh, there is no 'guessing' about it. You have very much to learn.”
Chapter 10 Schwaz
The village of Schwaz, located a short distance in the valley below Schloss Tratzberg, was everything Mary expected an Alpine village to be. Beautiful, picturesque, and reasonably clean. The town nestled next to the Inn River, with mountains surrounding it from every direction. Mary knew it sat in a long valley, but the mountains appeared to surround it like walls of stone and vivid green. It was quite small, c
ertainly smaller than Wurzburg, smaller than Grantville. But it wasn’t laid out like any of those towns. It had a different feel to it than most of the down-time towns that Mary had seen. It was small, but there was some elegant and expensive architecture that wasn’t typical for a small village. Churches always got special attention in towns and villages, but the one in Schwaz was particularly impressive, as well as other buildings that weren’t typical for a small town.
She met Hieronymus at the church, as instructed. She had hiked down into the valley from the Schloss, escorted by one of the female servants and someone from the security detail that belonged to Stadelmeier. There was scaffolding around the church tower, and workmen all around the building.
“Ah, there you are Mary! It’s good to see you again, welcome to my little project!” Hieronymus was grinning ear-to-ear, standing in the dusty narthex of the church. He was dressed as a workman, and near a table set up with drawings and papers scattered about. The building was in the midst of a restoration of some kind. “Let me show you what we are doing here!” He turned and shouted into the church. “Raphael! Leopold! Father! Our up-timer is here!” He turned back to Mary, breathless and grinning. “I am so excited for you to see what we have been doing here. I want to show you about before I take you to my wife and go to the dressmaker.” He paused, taking Mary in for a moment. “But I see you have some new clothes already. That’s something from the countess, isn’t it? She must like you.” He turned and shouted, his belly bouncing. “Father Huntsha! Where are you? Raphael! Where are you!”
“On my way, master!” echoed from inside the church. After a moment, a tall, handsome and remarkably muscular workman that looked to be in his mid to late twenties strode in from the interior of the church. It was warm, so he was wearing his down-time shirt open to the waist. Sweat and dust covered him. Mary noticed and appreciated his lithe build, and his dark haired good looks, but she tried to keep her observations as subtle as possible. She was way too busy, and under too much pressure to be looking for a boyfriend, let alone a relationship. On the other hand, she wasn’t too busy to notice. And Raphael noticed her too, she noticed. And to make it more complicated, he also noticed her noticing him. Everyone was noticing each other, with the exception of Hieronymus, who was clueless.
He was followed by a man dressed in priest’s garb, dusty and sweaty as well. The priest was stocky, and bearded, and looked rather young to be running such an impressive parish.
“Ah, and Father Huntsha! I want to introduce you both to Mary Margaret Russo, of up-time, who is staying with us at Schloss Tratzberg. Mary, this is Father Daniel Huntsha, our priest here in Schwaz. He is a wonderful man who supports our efforts to preserve this church.”
The stocky priest mopped his brow with a rag lying on the drawing table, wiped his hands, and acknowledged his patron. “You are too kind, Herr Fugger. ” He then turned and politely bowed to Mary. “A true pleasure to meet someone from up-time. Welcome to Schwaz, and our church.”
Mary bobbed a little curtsy to the priest. Her first impression was that he was a warm man who cared deeply about his congregation. He had a aura of calm and methodical intelligence. Mary had gotten much better at dealing with church authority figures since her posting in Wurzburg. With her Catholic upbringing, there was an almost built-in reflex of instant obedience to a church figure. Wurzburg had gotten her past that, with the witch burnings so prevalent there. But Father Huntsha contrasted deeply with the prune faced, officious and overzealous parish priest she had known and worked with in Wurzburg. Huntsha seemed to be genuine. And he was quite dusty. Father Stoltz from Wurzburg would have never got his hands dirty. “Pleasure to meet you, Father.”
“The pleasure is all mine. A real up-timer, here in our little village. Quite exciting. Tell me Mary. Do you know Cardinal-Protector Mazzare?”
Mary smiled at the title. “Yes, Father. Although I knew him growing up as simply ‘Father Larry’. It’s a little odd to hear him called Cardinal-Protector. Although that’s his title now. I've known him almost all of my life. He baptized me when I was little, and I still haven’t seen him since his elevation. He spends most of his time in Magdeburg, as I understand it.”
The priest scratched his dusty beard, thinking hard. “So you grew up with what the Up-timers called Vatican II? How fascinating that must have been.” The priest got a gleam in his eye. “It’s so different, the language, with minimal Latin. We have Latin here, of course, but I've had letters from my colleagues that talk about the concept of using the vernacular in the liturgy. I would so like to discuss this with you sometime!”
Hieronymus raised his hands in protest. “Father! I know you would love to talk Catholic doctrine with our up-timer for hours on end, and maybe sometime you can. But we have much to do today.”
Mary glanced back to the handsome workman, and for once Hieronymus was paying attention. “Of course, I must introduce you to the foreman of my little project here, Raphael DeFrancesco, from, ah, Florence, isn’t it?”
She curtsied to him, and he bowed with elegant and exaggerated grace. More courtier than foreman. “Si, Florence. I'm pleased to make your acquaintance.” His German was laced with a Florentine flourish. He turned to address Hieronymus. “It turns out that your son was very accurate, Your Grace.” He faced back to Mary. “Your son Leopold told me she was the most beautiful woman in the known world, a fierce warrior, and wise beyond her years. And while boys are known to exaggerate when it comes to telling tales of women, I find his assessment to be most accurate, at least at first impressions.”
Mary felt herself blushing, half out of pleasure, and half from embarrassment, and with a touch of anger at Raphael’s presumptuousness that she would fall for such a load of crap. The priest simply smiled and clasped his hands behind him, bobbing up on his toes briefly.
Hieronymus was smiling widely. “Ah, Raphael, you haven’t lost your touch with the ladies, that’s for certain. Ah, if I were your age again…”
Mary did about the only thing she could do, and that was smile. And change the subject to something other than herself. “You said you were going to show me the church…?”
Hieronymus nodded. “Indeed. Raphael, would you and my son - where is he? - show her around? I will change and let my wife know you're here. We will meet you at our home.” He looked around again for his son, then bellowed “Leopold!”
“Coming, father.” was heard faintly from somewhere in the depths of the chapel. A few moments later, Leopold came trotting up. He stopped when he saw Mary, frozen in a stare. “I didn’t know you were here yet.”
Hieronymus looked at his son with exasperation. “Up in the rafters reading and daydreaming instead of working? Raphael, you need to make sure he is working, not laying about somewhere. Lord knows his studies are not strong enough for him to take up business like my brother. He needs to learn something.”
Raphael nodded. “I will be more vigilant, Your Grace.”
Hieronymus nodded back. “See that you are. Looking after him, to make sure he stays on task, is more than a full time job. At least that’s the way it was with my wife and I.” He turned to Leopold. “Show her what you have been doing, Leopold. Then meet us at home. Say that back to me.”
Leopold blinked and then looked at his father. “I will show her what we have been doing, and then we will meet at home.” It was clear that this was a routine they went through to help Leopold remember. Mary began to confirm her sense that there was something a bit “off” about Leopold, maybe some sort of learning disability. She certainly wasn’t an expert on learning disabilities, but students had been “mainstreamed” for many years in her school system back up-time, so it was something she was at least somewhat familiar with. She made a mental note to ask for some copies of books from back home. Leopold was eventually going to be in one of her classes.
Father Huntsha raised one hand. “I'm afraid I must be getting ready for my duties for this evening. It was a pleasure meeting you, Mary Margaret Russo, fro
m up-time. I hope to see more of you during your time here in Schwaz.” He bowed again, while she curtsied, and the priest headed off to his rectory.
Hieronymus waddled away into the sunshine, her escort from Schloss Tratzberg planted themselves in the narthex, and Leopold started the tour, with Raphael supporting him. “We are cleaning all of the interior spaces, and repairing the grout for the stones, and also around the windows,” said Leopold with little enthusiasm.
As Mary walked into the main part of the church, she was struck by the size of it. She, along with Leopold and Raphael, genuflected at the entrance. Her home church in Grantville was small, but opulent, for a tiny parish. Grantville was by nature a boom-town, and in its heyday there was a lot of money in the town. The residents wanted a first class church, and they got one. But in the town of Schwaz, smaller even than Grantville, the church was enormous. The sanctuary was so large there were four aisles, and the seating was at least ten times that of her small Grantville church. The vast arched vaults inside didn’t reflect on what was a rather simple architecture outside. “This place is enormous. How many parishioners attend here? The town doesn’t seem large enough for a church this size. Is it a cathedral?”
“No, Mary,” Leopold answered. “The size is because Schwaz used to be a large city, with many miners and townspeople that lived here. In olden times, the miners would sit on one side of the church, and the townsfolk on the other.” Leopold looked at her with a grin. “Did you see the roof when you came into town?”
“I suppose I did. It looked like it was green in the sunlight.”
“The entire roof is copper.” Leopold looked at Mary expectantly. Mary looked back at him.
“Okay. Copper roof...?”
Up-Time Pride and Down-Time Prejudice Page 9