by Iny Lorentz
Clasping the cup between his numb hands, Ludvik eagerly drained its contents. Then he wiped the drops from his beard. “That’s good! When you’ve ridden through this cold for three days, only finding shelter in a half-collapsed barn for one night, this drink is the perfect greeting. I had almost given up hope of making it here. All the villages and small cities I know from my youth are in ashes, and if you get close to them, you step on bones. It was like a ride through hell.”
“That’s what Jan Ziska and his successors have done to our beautiful country!” Count Sokolny’s voice roared behind them. He had heard about Ludvik’s arrival from the guards and known immediately where to find the unexpected visitor. Stepping close to Michel, he looked down on his brother’s servant, slumped in his chair, worn-out and miserable. “Forgive me, Count, for not greeting you as respectfully as I should, but my legs won’t carry me any longer.”
“It’s all right, Ludvik. A man who manages to get to Falkenhain in this weather has earned the right to sit in my presence.” Sokolny patted him reassuringly on the shoulder, then pulled over a chair for himself and looked at Ludvik with concern. “What on earth has caused my brother to risk your life? I know how highly he values you.”
Ludvik smiled with embarrassment and cast a doubtful glance at Wanda and the maids, who were pretending to be busy nearby while trying to eavesdrop. “I’ve got news, but it’s not good.”
Waving Wanda over, he pointed at Ludvik and Michel. “Pour beer for the three of us. Then take your women and leave us alone.”
The count waited impatiently until the women had closed the door behind them, then stared at Ludvik. “What happened?”
“My master urgently appeals to you once more to join his allies and him in helping to curb the Taborites’ influence. He said there’s no other way he can protect you. Little Prokop and Vyszo plan to attack your castle this year, probably right after the attack on Silesia.” Ludvik looked pleadingly at the count, who growled in response.
“Ottokar is a fool if he thinks he can help me that way. Once that pack has tasted blood, they won’t stop until they’ve drowned in it. They will attack Falkenhain, whether or not I renounce Sigismund and join the Calixtines.”
Michel shared the count’s opinion. From everything he had learned up to now, the Taborites especially wouldn’t let anyone whom they considered an enemy live. But he was surprised at how deep the discord between the two rebel groups already was, and thought this was probably the beginning of the end for the Hussites. At the same time, he was aware it would probably take years until this blaze at the edge of the Reich was extinguished, during which time Falkenhain would be a place of death like all of its neighbors.
“I agree, Sir Count. These Taborites will come whether you swear allegiance to the league or not. We have to prepare for their attack.”
A bitter smile flashed across Sokolny’s face. “For years we’ve been living in anticipation of this day, but we always hoped it would never come.”
The count sounded so dejected that Michel responded with angry fervor. “It doesn’t help to tremble with fear while waiting for the enemy’s arrival. We need to think about ways to shore up our defenses.”
“For example?”
“We could start by reinforcing the east wall and enlarging the tower above the gate,” Michel suggested, “or we could repair all our wagons, pack everything we need, and make our way to the Reich. With luck, we could make it.”
Ludvik objected vehemently. “Don’t even think of doing that! You’ll be far too slow with the women and children, and the Taborites would soon catch up and kill you all.”
“Then we can do nothing but fight and hope for God’s mercy. Maybe you’ll find some friends willing to stand by you,” replied Michel, trying to sound more confident than he felt.
Sadly, Sokolny shook his head. “What friends? You just heard that all of the surrounding towns and castles have been burned down. The only person who can help us now is King Sigismund.”
“Then ask him for help!” Michel’s voice snapped through the room like the lash of a whip.
For a moment, the count stared at him. Then he nodded and straightened up. “That’s worth thinking about. Call Feliks, Marek, and the other leaders to the hall so we can discuss it. No, not the hall! We’ll take the tower room, as I don’t want people to know what a precarious situation we’re in. Ludvik, do you feel strong enough to give us a detailed report?”
Ludvik nodded enthusiastically. “Of course, my lord. I just need another cup of beer and a bite to eat, and then I’ll tell you everything my master and I have learned about the Taborites’ plans.”
“Good! Come upstairs. I’ll make sure we get a meal served up there.” As the count opened the door, Wanda jumped back, and her guilty expression told him she had eavesdropped.
“I hope you know how to keep your mouth shut!” he said quietly but firmly, and the cook nodded shyly. “Now, go. Send a few maids with bread, beer, and roast meat for nine men up to the tower.”
4.
Half an hour later, Sokolny was sitting at the upper end of the table in the tower room, surveying his faithful men, who included Michel, Ludvik, Feliks Labunik, his captain of the castle Marek Lasicek, and four other men. Their faces looked grim, almost shocked, and only a few seemed to have the courage and determination necessary to face the Hussites. The German was ready for it, but the count hadn’t expected anything else. Marek, too, looked ready for battle, while Labunik was as pale and gaunt as if an angel from God had announced his imminent death.
The count met their eyes, one by one, as if trying to appeal to their soldier’s honor. “Until today my brother and good friends have managed to protect us, even though we’ve had almost nothing to give them in return. Those days are over now. Little Prokop and Vyszo lust for our blood, and they won’t rest until they’ve destroyed us. But we certainly won’t surrender voluntarily. If they want to kill us, they’ll have to pay a heavy price.”
Labunik exhaled loudly. “Your words are noble and brave. But what can we achieve against the Taborite marauders with our few men?”
“We can defend our walls,” Michel rebuked him, “and if God is with us, we’ll send them home with bloody heads.”
“Then they’ll come back next year and kill us,” Labunik burst out.
“Do you want to just sit there and wait until the Taborites are at our gates? Then you might as well put a noose around your neck and welcome them in a shroud! I’m planning on making my end as miserable as possible for them. Therefore, I will send a message to King Sigismund and ask him for help. I’m sure he won’t deny it.” Sokolny saw how his men straightened up on hearing that, and even Labunik’s face regained some of its color.
“If you’re going to send a message to the king, you should do it soon, while the cold is keeping the enemy in its camps.”
“That’s what I intend to do, Feliks. A group will leave Falkenhain tomorrow to present my plea to the kaiser.” Sokolny glimpsed Michel raising his hand, and he turned to him apologetically. “I know you’d like to return to your people to solve the mystery of your origin, Frantischek, but I can’t do without you here. I need your knowledge and experience, even though you don’t know where you acquired them. Feliks and Marek will be my messengers.”
Marek Lasicek smiled at Michel. “Be happy you can stay in the warm castle, Nemec, while we have to fight our way westward through the icy mountains of the Bohemian Forest.”
Though he was sure that a trip to the kaiser would have lifted the shadows lying over his past, Michel accepted the count’s decision. Labunik might be a good steward, but he was no warrior, and though Marek was an outstanding soldier, he had no experience preparing a castle for the attack of a far superior army. Michel, on the other hand, had demonstrated his military knowledge many times, so now the count didn’t want to do without him.
After giving Labun
ik and Marek further instructions, Sokolny sent them to choose men to take along. Then he retreated to write a letter to the kaiser. Michel considered following Labunik and Marek, but instead decided to keep to himself. Fetching the coat and thick boots he’d left outside the kitchen, he was about to climb the tower again. Just then, Sokolny’s daughter, Janka, appeared in front of him, clasping his hands. “I’m glad you’re staying here, Frantischek.”
Michel stared at her in surprise, wondering how she had managed to hear about the plans so quickly. It looked like the habit of eavesdropping was rather common in Falkenhain. Smiling indulgently, he tried to assuage her fears. “You don’t have to worry, mistress. I’m sure the kaiser will send help.”
She let out a bitter laugh. “Do you really believe that? Which of the cities still loyal to him has he helped so far? Didn’t they all regret having called Sigismund their king in the face of the Taborite morning stars? So why do you think he’d care what happens to a small and insignificant castle like Falkenhain?”
Before Michel could reply, she wrapped her arms around him and pressed her lips on his. Shocked, he pushed her away. “You can’t do that, mistress!”
“I don’t want to die without having known love!” she cried passionately.
“You certainly won’t die without love, mistress. You’ll soon find a brave nobleman and be very happy.”
“A nobleman? One like Feliks, perhaps?” Her voice was full of contempt.
Thanks to a lack of other suitors, Michel knew that Labunik had hopes of becoming Sokolny’s son-in-law. Michel also approved of that match, hoping it would defray her feelings for him. Even if the count had been willing to give his daughter to a nameless adventurer without much to recommend him except a good sword hand, marriage was out of the question for him. He had kindly feelings for Janka, but his heart stayed silent when he looked at her. There was room for only one woman in his thoughts, and her name was Marie.
“Mistress, you shouldn’t be standing in the open door in this cold! Go back to your rooms. Now you’ll have to excuse me—I need to check on the guards,” Michel said with a nod. As he walked over to the tower and carefully climbed the stairs, he told himself that the Hussites weren’t his biggest problem just then.
5.
Winter hung on stubbornly that year, but the Hussite troops raided German lands despite ice and snow. The news reaching the kaiser wasn’t any worse than in previous years, but weakened by age and the years of fruitless fighting for his crown, he took it as an evil portent. Though he didn’t have the strength to stomach another campaign, he also knew all too well that the princes of the Reich were waiting for any sign of vulnerability to refuse their allegiance once and for all, with the burgrave of Nuremberg leading the way. Sigismund blamed Friedrich most of all for refusing his allegiance in the early years of the Bohemian rebellion and instead taking part in the fights among the Bavarian dukes. The kaiser didn’t care which lord ruled over their smaller lands. What mattered to him was the crown of Bohemia he wanted to pass on to his son-in-law and later to a grandson.
Added to Sigismund’s great disappointment, the union of his daughter Elizabeth and Habsburg Albrecht hadn’t yet been blessed by a son. Taking this as another sign of his own demise, the kaiser had recently gone on a pilgrimage to pray at the tomb of Kaiser Heinrich II, who had been declared a saint, and his wife, Kunigunde, and to ask for strength to once again wear his crown with dignity. The trip had exhausted him so greatly that he was afraid his end was near when he arrived, and he had been recovering for the past few weeks in the fortified hunting lodge the bishop of Bamberg had placed at his disposal.
Heaving himself out of his chair, Sigismund pulled his sable fur coat more tightly around him and stepped to the window. The first warm rays of sunlight were melting the snow, but it wasn’t clear whether winter would attempt to scour the land once more with its icy blasts from the east, or whether it would finally yield to spring. Sigismund thought that he and winter had much in common: they were still fighting, but deep down they knew they were beaten.
He turned around and shuffled back to his chair. A jug of wine and a bowl of roasted quails were standing on the small table next to him. He absentmindedly grabbed one of the birds and started to eat without appetite. A servant rushed over with a damp cloth to clean his hands, but Sigismund didn’t even notice him, brooding in silence, the rest of the bird still in his hand.
Suddenly the kaiser was startled by a noise outside. Then the heavy oak doors swung open, and one of his bodyguards entered. “Your Majesty, Sir Falko von Hettenheim has just arrived along with several men from Bohemia.”
“From Bohemia you say?” The kaiser’s somber mood vanished, and he felt a tiny glimmer of hope. Could it be that his rebellious subjects had tired of the bloodshed and were willing to put down their arms? But his hopes quickly evaporated when he saw the two poorly dressed men following Falko von Hettenheim into the room. The leader, who might have been of rank, was a haggard man in his thirties whose basic surcoat looked as if a peasant woman had sewn it from hair, and his burly comrade wore the garb of only a plain foot soldier.
While Labunik and Marek stepped toward the kaiser and bowed awkwardly, Falko remained in the doorway. He had put on weight over winter and seemed grumpier than before. His wife had recently given birth to his sixth daughter, and the kaiser still hadn’t given him his hoped-for title and land.
Labunik felt so inhibited in the kaiser’s presence, he could barely utter a word. “Your Majesty, I . . . we . . .” Breaking off, he looked pleadingly at Marek, who cleared his throat and managed a few coherent sentences. “Your Majesty, my lord Count Václav Sokolny sends us. He is your faithful subject and has managed to secure Falkenhain Castle for you so far. Now the Taborites want to attack us, and we ask you to send us help.”
Scanning the man’s face, the kaiser saw sincere concern for his master, and he asked him about the conditions in Bohemia. Marek answered as best he could, and within a short time Sigismund had learned more about his Bohemia from this simple, good man than his closest advisers had ever been able to tell him. After Marek’s report, the kaiser leaned back thoughtfully. He didn’t know yet how to use this knowledge or in what way he could help Count Sokolny. But then his eyes fell on Falko, and he saw his opportunity to make a noble gesture. “What do you think of all this, Hettenheim?”
Falko von Hettenheim shrugged contemptuously. “I hardly believe it would make sense to send troops to save a castle so far away from any main roads. If it came to battle, the rebellious Bohemians would win, unless God in heaven can send us ten thousand fully equipped foot soldiers paid several years in advance and carrying all necessary provisions.”
“God may be able to perform miracles, but I doubt he will send us his divine army,” the kaiser replied with an admonishing look. “Wouldn’t it be possible for you to rush to Count Sokolny’s aid with your group? A handful of warriors sometimes can achieve more than a whole army.”
Falko von Hettenheim had to stop himself from giving the kaiser an improper reply. The last place he wanted to be was deep in Hussite lands where no retreat was possible, submitting to the orders of a count he didn’t know. But he knew the kaiser well enough to understand that his pride was surpassed only by his stubbornness, and he had to tread lightly. As he considered how to reply, a malicious smile flashed across his face. Then he stepped forward and bowed deeply.
“I would gladly do so, Your Majesty, but I believe that this task is less suited to a man with his own ideas than to one who is used to carrying out orders. I suggest instead sending my brave cousin Heinrich to Falkenhain Castle. He will support the count as well as he can.” Falko had to hide his grin. If the kaiser accepted his idea, he would not only be rid of his cousin who had just mockingly congratulated him on the birth of another daughter, but also Heribert von Seibelstorff, that annoying upstart, who blamed him for Marie’s disappearance and longed to cross la
nces.
Sigismund thought the knight’s suggestion made sense. Heinrich von Hettenheim was a brave man, and with God’s blessing he would save the Bohemian count’s life and castle. Conveniently, Heinrich was already camping near Nuremberg with his group, where the kaiser had soon planned to travel to finalize the sale of that castle, which had been severely neglected due to Burgrave Friedrich’s participation in the Bavarian wars. The sum the kaiser would receive for it wasn’t significant, but it was enough to equip a group of foot soldiers and pay them for a few months. Satisfied with this development, the kaiser smiled graciously at the two Bohemians.
“Count Sokolny didn’t send you here for nothing. One of my bravest knights, Sir Falko’s cousin Heinrich von Hettenheim, will immediately leave for Bohemia with his group to stand by your master.”
Labunik bowed again, but he was too confused to reply. On the journey there, he had wondered if he should even return to his home country at all, as every fiber of his being urged him to stay in the safety of the western Reich. Meanwhile, Marek had to keep himself from cursing, because if he returned with little more than one knight and a handful of soldiers, the dangerous trip would hardly have been worth it. He also thought it a bad omen that the proposed leader was a cousin of Falko von Hettenheim, who was notorious throughout Bohemia for his bloodlust and greed, and whose deeds had caused a few cities and many noblemen to go crawling to the Hussites.
“We thank you in the name of our master, Count Sokolny,” Marek heard Labunik say. His face was forlorn, as if he had just heard his own death sentence. Indeed, this wasn’t far from the truth, since the Czech nobleman had decided to accept his fate, returning to Falkenhain to fight and die at Sokolny’s side.
Marek, however, swore he would rather face a wild bear completely unarmed than to ever again bow his head to men like the kaiser or Falko von Hettenheim.