“I know where you might start.”
“Where?” Isabella enquired and there was excitement in her voice.
“Gábor Báthory, Erzsébet’s nephew.”
“Go on.”
“He is the Prince of Transylvania now and his brutality is renowned. They say in Hungary he is most brutal prince since…”
“Since?”
“Since Prince Vlad,”
Isabella laughed, “Vlad was never very popular with the Hungarians.” Her voice now adopted a more serious tone. “In life he was a great man. He did not become the vicious prince of legend until after he lost his family. The twenty thousand Boyars he was supposed to have impaled was a number more like twenty. Every one of them had conspired to kill his brother and father. When Vlad dug up his brother’s grave he realised how much his brother had been tortured. His eyes had been burnt out of their sockets and there were scratch marks on the lid of the coffin. He had been blinded and buried alive. Think about it Katalin, he was supposed to have impaled them all in that courtyard. Do you know how long it would take to stake twenty thousand? It would take a lifetime.”
“Do you want me to go with you to Gábor’s court?” Katalin asked in hope.
“No, Katalin, I want you to stay here with your mother and bring up your children. You have too much of a taste for killing.”
“You will need help,” Katalin protested.
“Vlad will help me, I am sure he will take great delight in destroying another descendant of Stephen Báthory and I trust him far more than I do you.”
Katalin said nothing and turned to go back into the house.
As she did Isabella caught her by the arm and turned her forcibly back towards her. “Be careful, Katalin, I warn you. I have saved you once. I will not do it again. Next time I will leave you to the mercy of the rabble and you should remember what happened to Dorottya.” Isabella pressed down hard on Katalin’s arm and gave her a taste of the pain that Dorottya had felt. Katalin struggled to get free, but could not until Isabella released her. Katalin was once again scared and as a result, she once more became penitent for her crimes, perhaps for the wrong reasons, but penitent nevertheless.
Isabella was filled with a fresh enthusiasm for life; she would become a righter of wrongs, a corrector of other people’s misdeeds. Surely this would help ease her conscience. Isabella realised she needed help in her new plan; she needed help in seeking out these evil doers.
Katalin selected a hierarchy of Slovak Invigilators, as they came to be called. Mostly women, as it was women that were getting persecuted and most at risk. Each Slovak was well-paid and reported back to another within the hierarchy. Each one only knew who they reported to and the person reporting to them, but that was as far as it went. She would sometimes ask for information herself, but she would always leave whoever she had asked with the impression that she was just another member of the hierarchy. Therefore, no one knew who was at the top of the chain. Anyone close to Katalin thought she reported to no one and that pleased Katalin; she never contradicted anyone who thought this.
Isabella’s Slovaks would report indirectly to her of people who had beaten the weak, raped, or murdered without just cause. These people would usually fall ill and inexplicably die within days, sometimes even hours. Isabella especially wanted to know about those who sought the help of a witch finder. She would take great pleasure in visiting these people. This new found purpose gave her the opportunity to perfect her sixth sense. She had become so skilled that she could touch the temples of most people and could see their innermost secrets. She could see their worst crimes and their justification, if they had any, to commit these crimes. On an occasion when she was not totally convinced of a person’s guilt, if their will was strong and she could not read them, she would extract a confession just to be sure.
Isabella’s exertions led to there being very few witch trials in the Carpathians: Moldavia, Transylvania, and Walachia were spared of these atrocities. The Slovaks, however, were now growing a reputation of their own. Isabella would not harm a Slovak even if they where guilty of the worst of crimes and yet, she felt no hesitation in punishing anyone in other communities. Because of this, the Slovaks started to get treated with suspicion. The Slovak Invigilators, unknowingly over time, became the guardians of Vampires.
Gabriel Bethlen had been sent for, and he was worried. He could feel the Prince’s antipathy building during the past months. He had spoken out several times against Gábor Báthory’s treatment of his own people. He had been chief counsellor to the previous prince and was well respected throughout Hungary and the Carpathians. At first, Báthory had respected his opinion and had curbed his cruel instincts, but yesterday something had happened to inflame Báthory’s true nature.
The day before, the two statesmen had been parading through the centre of the city, Báthory sitting on the royal golden coach and Bethlen behind him, in a slightly less extravagant carriage. The crowds were packing in through the gates of the city centre to see the young Prince. Bethlen was worried; some of these people may be crushed as the two coaches pushed through the cheering onlookers. Báthory as usual was unconcerned about anyone apart from himself.
Fireworks were exploding, lighting up the night sky. One of the fireworks exploded prematurely and a spark ignited the others that were still on the ground; a small fire started and a few loud bangs from the fireworks followed. The horses attached to the two coaches were frightened by the noise and veered up. As they fell back to the ground they struck a beautiful woman. They trampled her and blood could be seen soaking through her clothes. Bethlen started to shout at Báthory.
“Keep the horses away from her,” Bethlen shouted.
“Carry on,” Báthory said calmly to his guards, not paying a moment’s heed to the injured woman. Bethlen jumped off his coach and ran to her. He could not tell if she was alive or dead. He lifted her up in her arms; her body was limp and cold. He feared the worst. He tried to climb on Báthory’s coach but Báthory pushed him back. Bethlen looked up at his Prince in amazement. He knew the Prince was not a kind man, but to let one of his own people die if there was a possible chance of saving her? Bethlen quickly placed the injured woman on one of his own coach horses. He climbed up behind her as quickly as he could and rode out through the crowd to the city gates. Bethlen until now had been totally oblivious to the crowd but as he turned the horse around he saw Báthory staring at him with venom. Bethlen returned the venomous stare and as he rode out he heard the crowd starting to chant.
“Bethlen… Bethlen…”
As Gabriel Bethlen rode away he wondered if had he just sealed his own fate, but he could not stand by and watch as his sovereign indirectly murdered one of his innocent subjects. He rode back to his house as fast as he could. His wife had taken ill and he knew his doctor was at home, looking after her.
He arrived at his home quickly and pulled the woman off the horse as gently as possible and rushed into the hall, laying her carefully on the floor.
“Zsuzsanna,” he called to his wife. “Zsuzsanna,” he called again. Zsuzsanna came running down the stairs to her husband.
“What is it?” she yelled.
“Is the doctor still here?” Bethlen said panicking.
“Yes, I will run and fetch him, he is in the kitchen.” Zsuzsanna returned with the doctor at her side to see the bloody victim.
“Is she alive?” Gabriel asked. Before the doctor got a chance to feel if the woman was breathing she opened her eyelids to reveal dark, viridian eyes. Gabriel and Zsuzsanna laughed in relief. “I guess she is,” said Gabriel. Isabella sat up, not letting the doctor touch her. “Not so fast, take your time,” Gabriel said.
“I’m fine,” Isabella insisted.
“You couldn’t possibly be,” Zsuzsanna said. Isabella had forgotten that as far these people were concerned she had been through a horrific accident. So she cautiously climbed to her feet and when she was standing upright she clutched her forehead and pretended to swoo
n. Gabriel caught her as she fell and said.
“I think we should take her upstairs to let her lie down, and then you can examine her properly,” Gabriel said to the doctor. Zsuzsanna and Gabriel walked Isabella up the stairs to one of the spare bedrooms. The Doctor followed behind, Zsuzsanna and Gabriel lead her to the bed and set Isabella down on it.
Zsuzsanna gave Isabella a nightgown and asked, “Do you need anyone to help you get changed out of those clothes?” Isabella shook her head. “Then I will leave you and let the doctor take a look at you.”
Zsuzsanna and Gabriel left the room. The doctor approached Isabella. Her dress was very torn and quite a lot of blood had stained the ragged cloth. The doctor looked at Isabella’s back and he was shocked to find no wounds.
“There is not a mark on your back,” the doctor said. He looked at her arm and again despite the blood stains there was no wound to be seen. “I don’t understand—where did all the blood come from?”
Isabella was ignoring him. She was looking at the door and listening to see if Zsuzsanna and her husband were far enough away so they could not hear what she was about to do. As soon as they were out of earshot Isabella lunged at the doctor, holding him still. He was now frightened for his life.
“Are you a good man?” Isabella asked.
“What do you mean?” he spluttered.
“I mean, have you led your life to a standard that I would approve of?” Isabella tossed the Doctor onto the bed and kneeled one leg on his chest. She placed her hand on his forehead and looked at his misdeeds. The worst thing that this man had ever done was put an old man who was crippled with pain out his misery with some laudanum. This was an act of mercy, but this man still felt guilt over it. “It appears you have led a good life. What a pity. I was getting hungry.”
She released her grasp of the doctor. He sat up on the bed rubbing his neck. “Now, I want you to go out and let the Bethlens know that I was very badly injured but will recover. Do you think I can rely on you to do this for me?” The doctor, who was still terrified, nodded his head. He got instinctively up and went towards the door. “Doctor,” Isabella called after him. “I want one last thing from you.”
“What?” The doctor enquired.
“I want you to believe that that is exactly what happened.”
As the doctor closed the door his mind was filled with pity for this woman. Her injuries had been terrible but he believed she would recover. He went to tell the Bethlens exactly what he now believed to have happened.
The Bethlens left Isabella to rest and the next morning, Zsuzsanna went to the room to check on her. She was surprised to see that the woman had gone.
“Gabriel,” she shouted, “she has gone.” Gabriel ran up the stairs to see the empty room and he, too, was shocked.
“Where could she have gone in the condition she was in?” asked Gabriel. At that moment there was a knock at the door. It was a messenger from court. Gabriel Bethlen had been sent for.
Bethlen waited outside the palatial wooden doors of court anxiously awaiting knowledge of what would be done to him. He had seen Báthory kill people over much less. The doors finally opened and he entered the court. It was full of Gábor’s loyal dignitaries. It was to be a public trial—he was to be made an example of a warning to anyone else who tried to curry favour with the rabble.
Bethlen approached Gábor’s throne. He looked around, hoping to see one friendly face among the sea of enemies. He was astonished to see standing in the crowd the young woman he had saved the day before. She stood, elegantly clothed, her arm interlocked with one of the nobles. He didn‘t recognise her presumed husband; he hoped they both were friendly faces. Isabella reassured him by smiling when she caught his glance and pressed her finger up to her lips to signal for him to keep quiet and not alert anyone to her presence. A thought came into his head, a comforting thought. It told him to be quiet about the woman, and it told him that he should say that the girl he had saved was taken back to her family and that was all he knew of her.
A few hours of questioning passed by and Bethlen was condemned. But still Bethlen was not concerned. He walked out of the biased court, his head held high. The reassuring feeling that emanated from this woman had stayed with him as he was escorted out of the hall and down to a dungeon of the castle.
Gabriel Bethlen waited in his temporary prison, for he knew she would be coming to speak to him. Isabella did not keep him waiting long.
“I suppose you require an explanation?” Isabella began.
“I think I do.”
“I have none to give you. What I will tell you, I suspect you already know. Gábor Báthory is a hellish man; you as your actions proved yesterday are not. He has ordered many men and woman slaughtered for no good reason just as he would kill you, given the chance. I myself am no better than him, probably worse, but I have decided to mend my wicked ways.”
“If as you say, you are just as bad as him, what concern is all this to you?”
“I don’t think you should be questioning someone who is intent on saving you from execution, so be quiet and listen. Your Prince is a powerful man and his death will mean that many people will be spared and that is what I am concerned with. I staged the accident yesterday to see what sort of man you were and also if you were the right sort of man to rule. I need to know that I am leaving my people, that is, the Slovak people who live in this region, in good hands. I want no burnings; this method of execution should be outlawed. I do not want to hear of anyone being burned at the stake, no matter what their crime.”
“I have constantly protested against this form of punishment.”
“That is another reason I have chosen you. You will have to muster up an army. The Turks will accommodate you.”
“What about Báthory?”
“I will take care of him.” Isabella kicked open the door and said, “What are you waiting for? Go and come back a Conqueror!” Gabriel fled straight to the Turks as Isabella had told him to do.
Isabella knew that the Turkish regime was not to be trusted to depose Báthory and put Bethlen in his place. She knew they would put in place whoever would be the most useful and Báthory would prove more useful, as he would do anything to save his own skin. He needed to be taken care of.
Csaba was worried for his daughter, Ella, for she was late returning home from court. He had quarters within the castle and his daughter was a servant. She was very young and he constantly worried about her.
It had been years since Erzsébet had been punished for killing hundreds of girls. He had witnessed first hand both Erzsébet’s and Gábor Báthory’s treatment of people, for like his aunt, he was cruel and malicious. Csaba had, years before, gone to seek out his sister and had stumbled onto the massacre that Erzsébet had been responsible for. At Erzsébet’s trial he had remembered the descriptions of the awful crimes for which she was guilty. He had sought to get away from such barbarity. But he had not escaped anything; he now witnessed Gábor’s cruel treatment of his people. A few months before, he himself had witnessed when a young girl had been trampled nearly to death by Gábor’s horses and the Prince had done nothing to help her. When his daughter was put into service within the castle, he couldn’t refuse. To refuse would probably condemn his whole family. So he let her go, but kept a watchful eye on her.
Just that night he had been ordered away by the Prince, for there had been a banquet and there was no need of him there. Csaba had watched in the early part of the evening as Gábor, who had already drunk quite a lot, got more and more boisterous. He had slapped one of the other servants, slicing her cheek open with his ring. All she had done was spill a drop of his wine and only because she had been pushed by Gábor.
Csaba sat up watching the door to his daughter’s chamber, hoping that she had returned safely. In the early hours of the morning one of his Ella’s friends came running up to where he was sitting, waiting and worried.
“Hurry, come with me,” the young girl cried out.
“What h
as happened?” Csaba said anxiously.
“He beat her,” she answered. Csaba’s stomach sank; his worst fear had been confirmed. The pair ran into the banquet room which was now deserted except for his unconscious daughter. She was lying face down in a pool of blood. Her father ran to her and threw himself down onto his knees. He rolled his daughter over to look at her face. It was swollen and purple; she had been so severely beaten he hardly recognised her.
“How did this happen?” Csaba said to the other girl.
“The Prince must approve all marriages of his soldiers; your future son-in-law came tonight to ask for your daughter’s hand. The Prince asked who the girl was and Istvan pointed to your daughter. The prince said she was pretty and asked was that the reason he was marrying her. Istvan answered back that that was one of many reasons. The prince then asked him if she wasn’t pretty would he still be marrying her. Istvan replied of course. The prince then said he wished he could have proof of this unconditional love.
“Unfortunately, sir, you cannot,” your future son-in-law responded.
“Cannot is not a word to use with Princes,” said Báthory in response.
“You are quite correct sir. I apologise.” Istvan then left and everything seemed fine.
“However, from that moment Gábor was watching your daughter. He asked his friends how they could prove this man’s loyalty and devotion. One of his friends foolishly, stupidly suggested that if she was ever disfigured only that would prove his loyalty. This man regretted his words as soon as he had uttered them.
“Gábor said that was an excellent idea. The first thing he did was trip her up but Ella jumped quickly back on to her feet. She was unscathed and carried on with her work. She tried to get away and slip out back to the kitchen, but Gábor leapt up from his seat and chased after her. She dropped what she was doing and tried to run but he soon caught her, and yanked her back by the hair. She fell to the floor and Gábor dragged her back into the room by the hem of her skirt.
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