by Alma Boykin
Elizabeth slept lightly. She heard the door open and remained still, ready to fight if they tried to molest her. A man swore when he saw the untouched food, but did not come farther into the room or try and wake her up. Once he left she barred the door, then told herself to sleep for five hours. She heard a rattle as someone tried the door again, but they did not force it open.
When the guards arrived the next morning they found her awake, clean, and dressed. She draped the saddlebags over her arm and waited, modeling herself on Saint Gerald of the Bridge—calm, serene, open to Godown’s will what ever it might be, and ready to defend herself and her charge with the last ounce of her heart and strength. The soldiers did not attempt to restrain her in any way. Why should they? By now the entire planet knows I can’t fight worth a lick if I’m not on horseback, she giggled silently as she walked between them. The heavy bags helped hide her shaking hands.
The guards led her into a small waiting room where two women stood waiting. “Lady Elizabeth, we must search you before you enter the royal presence,” one of the women warned her.
“Very well.” They found nothing other than her holy medal, which they left with her.
The second set of doors opened and she walked into an elegant room. Stone tiles in shades of gray made interlocking patterns on the floor, and pale wood paneling lined the walls. Elizabeth took two steps and curtsied as deeply as she could without dropping the saddlebags. Emperor Rudolph stood behind an ornate black and white table, flanked by two guards at parade rest. Count Windthorst lurked near the table, resplendent in expensive cream and white. Three other nobles stood opposite the count, facing him. The trio wore black or dark blue, mimicking Rudolph. More royal guards stood beside the entry door, behind Elizabeth, and a brown-robed priest sat in the corner. It was a study in black and white, cold and intimidating. Elizabeth squared her shoulders in her uniform jacket and remained low, her legs starting to tremble.
“You may rise.” She stood and waited at parade rest. “You have something for me?” Rudolph stated.
“Yes, your majesty.” One of the nobles walked to her and held out his hand. She gave him the saddlebag and watched as he carried it to the table. Rudolph opened it, removing the report. What Elizabeth saw confirmed her fears and she spoke without realizing it. “So I was right.”
Windthorst snapped, “What do you mean, Frankonian?”
“The bag had been opened after I was drugged.” She bowed to Rudolph. “Your majesty, Archduke Lewis sealed that report using his personal wax and seal.” But the documents in Rudolph’s hands bore a black seal, not the mid-blue Lewis had used. How could anyone be that clumsy?
“Will you say the same under oath, traitor?” Windthorst demanded.
“Yes, my lord.” The priest stood at Rudolph’s nod and carried a copy of the Holy Writ to Elizabeth. She bowed to the book, then rested both hands on the cover.
“My child, do you swear by Godown’s law that you tell the truth and nothing but the truth?”
“I swear by Godown’s law that I tell the truth and nothing but the truth,” she affirmed. The priest nodded and she bowed again, kissing the edge of the ribbon tied across the book. He returned to his place and she pivoted, facing the nobles and emperor once more.
“State your name and family,” one of the black-clad nobles ordered.
“I am Elizabeth Antonia von Sarmas, legitimate daughter of Count Anthony Sarmas and Olympia Sarmas-to, niece of the Duke of Sarmas, cousin of the acting Duke of Sarmas.”
“Why are you here?” the same man demanded.
“I came to the Eastern Empire to escape being forced into a convent without a calling.”
The second noble, in the dark blue coat, asked, “Who ordered you confined, Lady Sarmas?”
“Laurence V, King of Frankonia, gave the orders for my confinement.”
“Why?”
She thought for a moment. “Because I did not go to a convent myself, and because he learned that he could not use me as a bargaining chip against my uncle.”
Count Windthorst looked unhappy with her reply. The three judges, as she thought of them, led her through her arrival and her oaths of loyalty to the crown and empire. As she answered, Rudolph remained impassive but Windthorst began twitching, impatient.
Finally his turn came. “It is a most fortuitous coincidence that you have crossed paths with four Sworn Acolytes of Selkow and one priest, is it not?”
“I call it bad luck, my lord, not fortuitous.”
His frown deepened. “And yet you survived meeting the priest. That is most unusual for a non-believer, especially a woman.”
“My lord, a meeting with a dead priest is easy to survive, unless you are a carrion eater and his body gives you indigestion.” She thought she saw one of the judges trying to hide a smile at her words, and a guard behind her coughed.
The tall redhead did not laugh or smile. “But you assist the followers of Selkow, do you not?”
“No, my lord, I do not.” She dared to add, “Someone has, but it is not I.” She watched him now, ignoring everyone else.
“What do you mean, Elizabeth of Frankonia? You were found with implements of worship, and you continue meeting followers of Selkow.” The redhead turned to the others, adding, “There have been many more incursions than usual since her arrival, your majesty, as is well known.”
One of the judges asked, “What implements of worship?”
“She has a star blade, my lord,” Windthorst hissed.
Her voice even and demeanor calm, she ignored the interruption and replied, “Implements of the worship of Godown, as I still wear, my lord. The item from the priest of Selkow is now in the portable chapel of St. Gerald that is in the care of Archduke Lewis.” She added, “If I and the men with me have encountered too many Sworn Acolytes and priests, then please recall my lords, your majesty, that we fight on the border, which as Count Windthorst himself often reminds us, is porous.” And how did you know about that star blade? Aquila said he wouldn’t mention it in his reports until he’d told one of the royal archdukes.
He flushed, glaring at her. “Then I will remind you that the empire’s western border is also in danger, and you still have connections to the people endangering that border.”
“I will have that connection so long as my mother remains within the borders of Frankonia, my lord. Surely you do not expect a young woman to sever ties with the woman who gave her life and supported her through childhood?” As if one unanswered letter to her a year ago is communication. Two of the judges nodded, as if agreeing that of course a gently reared young woman would cling to her mother.
She waited for Windthorst to make the next accusation. He returned to his original theme, launching, “No woman fights without cause, Elizabeth of Frankonia. And it is well known that you are the only woman to survive so many encounters with the Turkowi. That can only…”
“I fight for those who cannot, my lord, as Godown has willed,” she interrupted him, seizing her chance. “Innocents like the Windthorst women whose bodies we found near the Dividing Range.”
He jerked as if slapped. “No women have been taken from my lands.”
“That may be so, my lord, but the bodies of three women wearing Windthorst colors have been found near Starland and Jones lands. One died by her own hand before she could be rescued, one perished as a sacrifice, may Godown have mercy, and another found a way to blow a Turkowi depot to bits, killing the priest who had slaughtered her Windthorst sister.” Elizabeth shook as she recited her findings. For the first time since the interrogation began, Rudolph of Babenburg showed a flicker of emotion. The three judges whispered to each other and looked horrified at her charge.
“You lie,” Windthorst snarled. “Traitor!”
“Why were the women not reported missing, my lord? Why would Turkowi dress eastern women in Windthorst garb? If they want to intimidate the locals and claim the land, why not just kill Starland or Jones women, as they have done in the past? And if I am
a traitor, why did I risk my life fighting to keep the Turkowi from flanking his grace Archduke Lewis’s troops at Kidron Valley? My arm and broken ribs, and his majesty’s dead horse, vouch for that, as will the men who served under my command.” She pressed her argument, somehow keeping her voice calm and her temper in check despite her anger. “And who changed the seal on his grace the Archduke’s report and tampered with the saddlebag?”
“Liar. Oath-breaker twice over,” he challenged. “No one changed the seals.” He’d begun to tremble, apparently overwhelmed by righteous indignation. She knew better.
Before she could rebut his charge, someone knocked on the door behind her. The guards pulled her out of the way, opposite the priest, and the door opened. She could have fainted with joy as Archduke Lewis strode in. He stopped, bowing to his elder brother. “Your majesty. I report as ordered.”
Count Windthorst gaped, caught by surprise, but recovered quickly. “Your grace is in time to prove my accusations true.”
“And what accusations are those, Eric?”
“That Elizabeth of Frankonia passed information to the Turkowi and assisted them at the battle, allowing them to flank Count Montoya’s forces.”
Lewis turned and looked at Elizabeth, then turned back to his brother. “Your majesty?”
Rudolph broke his silence for the first time. “You may speak, Lewis.”
“Thank you.” Lewis took a step forward and faced the count. “Instead of proving your accusations, I would rather know how you learned details about the battle before any official reports have been released, Count Windthorst.”
“My men told me the results, after they brought in the traitor.” Windthorst gathered himself and Elizabeth bristled, sensing trouble.
“Ah. Indeed.” Lewis walked up to the table and pointed to the report. “And who removed my seal from the report?”
Windthorst pointed to Elizabeth. As he did, she saw him touching something under his coat with his other hand.
One of the blue-clad judges asked Elizabeth, “Do you have proof of your claim about women being taken from Windthorst lands? That is a grave accusation,” he warned her.
“I do not, but his grace Archduke Lewis does. The evidence I found I gave to him. And I gave word and warning to Prince Ryszard Sobieski-Pilza.”
The judge bowed a little to the Archduke. “Your grace, do you have such proof?”
“Yes.” He pulled the pouch out of his jacket pocket and tossed it to the judge. The noble opened it and showed the contents to his fellow judges. The men’s eyes went wide as they saw the embroidery and the two badges.
“Where did these come from?” The black-coated judge demanded of Elizabeth, holding up a Windthorst badge.
“They came from a Turkowi on Starland land, near Klar. He belonged to the group whose captive killed herself.” Elizabeth held her breath as the room fell silent. Rudolph reached out his hand and the judge handed him the evidence. The emperor turned over the badges, and his eyes widened, then narrowed. He’s seen the hallmark, Elizabeth thought. Please, Godown, please may he believe me.
“Count Windthorst, why did you not report someone impersonating your men and attacking your women?” Rudolph sounded calm and mild, but Elizabeth shivered.
Windthorst snarled in the back of his throat. At the sound, Lewis turned and took two paces towards the count. Windthorst’s hand slipped under his coat again and he began drawing something black out of an inside pocket. Lewis moved faster than fast. He charged forward, grabbing the weaker man, twisting his wrist and forcing him to drop a heavy, narrow black object. The knife skittered across the floor.
The judges backed away, putting another meter between themselves and the item as the priest jumped up, setting the copy of the scriptures on the seat and hurrying over to the knife. He prayed over it, then started to dab it with holy oil even as Lewis and Windthorst struggled. “No!” Windthorst cried out, lunging forward, trying to stop the priest, but all four guards joined Archduke Lewis, grabbing the count’s arms and holding him back. The priest made the sign of St. Gerald before confirming, “Your majesty, it is a star knife.”
Elizabeth felt herself getting light headed and remembered that she needed to breathe. She turned away from the struggle at the head of the room and closed her eyes, trying to wish the star knife and all that it signified out of the chamber. A dull thump sounded from behind her but she kept her eyes closed.
“Lady Sarmas?” She looked up. Lewis of Babenburg put his hand on her shoulder. “Come with me.” He pushed her out the door into the waiting room, then to the right. She found herself in a small chamber decorated in warm browns and golds. “Sit before you fall over, Elizabeth.” She sat, then rose again a few moments later and staggered. Lewis steadied her as Emperor Rudolph, the judges, and the priest, joined them.
“What is your decision?” Rudolph asked the three nobles.
“We find Elizabeth von Sarmas not guilty of the charges presented against her. We find Eric Windthorst guilty of high treason and of being an accessory to heresy.” The judge in blue nodded to Elizabeth.
“Good. Thank you for your service, my lords, and you are dismissed. Please write your decision as soon as possible,” Rudolph ordered, smiling. “Thank you Fr. Michael, for your quick response. I will join you in the chapel.” After they left, he waved his hand at Elizabeth before sinking into a lushly upholstered chair. “Sit, sit, please, before you pass out. You too, Looie.”
Elizabeth felt herself trembling from hunger and reaction, and clasped her hands in her lap to hide them. The three sat in silence, thinking about the past hour. Finally Lewis spoke. “So, my lord, are you going to have the court room exorcised?”
“No. I think a blessing should be sufficient to allay anyone’s concerns. If he’d managed to draw that thing, then yes,” Rudolph sighed, scrubbing his face with his hand. “Otherwise they’d be burning incense in there for a year.”
After another silence, the men turned to Elizabeth, sitting in the chair by the door and still shaking. “Lady Elizabeth,” Rudolph began, “Is there anything you want?”
“Breakfast and my mule,” she blurted. “Your majesty, I want Snowy,” and to her shame and surprise she burst into tears, almost hysterical. She buried her face in her hands.
Lewis said something to the emperor, and Rudolph was gone by the time Elizabeth managed to regain her composure. A servant handed her a damp towel to wipe her face and nose with. Not long after she settled down, hot tea and luscious white rolls appeared, along with butter, paper-thin ham slices, and jam.
Once she’d eaten, Elizabeth followed Lewis and a squad of soldiers back to the courtyard of Windthorst House. She and the archduke waited there while the royal guards searched the building. “Hee-haw! Hee-haw!” She heard hooves on stone and spun around to see Snowy charging down on her. She caught the white beast and hugged his neck, sobbing into his rough coat.
Prince Alois, Rudolph’s second son, rode into the courtyard. “You are relieved, uncle,” he called to Lewis. Alois stayed at Windthorst House as soldiers searched it top to bottom. Lewis and Archduchess Marinka, the youngest of the Babenburg siblings and the wife of Duke Martin of Blackford, escorted Elizabeth to the palace. Elizabeth insisted on staying near Snowy until she’d led him into a guarded paddock. Then she ate a hearty dinner and took a real bath. One of the ladies-in-waiting helped trim her hair, and after a few discreet words, a servant appeared with some of the clothes Elizabeth had left at Starland House. By the time of her late afternoon meeting with the emperor and his advisors, Elizabeth looked, felt, and smelled much better.
This time, they met in one of the audience rooms, decorated in Babenburg blue. Archduke Lewis stood at Rudolph’s left shoulder. Elizabeth did not recognize the other four men, aside from the black-clad judge, who smiled at her when she curtsied to the group. “Elizabeth von Sarmas, you have been acquitted of all charges brought against you,” a stocky, bald man in a grey coat and blue vest informed her. “In addition, you ar
e owed a debt of thanks for both your service to the crown and for revealing a traitor and spy within the court.” Rudolph nodded at the words and Lewis winked, flashing a quick half-smile. “Have you any request to make?”
Caught completely by surprise, Elizabeth shook her head. “No, your majesty, my lords.” As she spoke an idea popped into her head and she added, “Except perhaps a suggestion?”
“And that is?”
“That the soldiers previously serving Windthorst be assigned to multiple units within the combined armies of the empire. It is a waste of resources to have able-bodied men clattering around and not doing anything useful.” And if they are scattered out, they can be cured of their stupidity. Maybe. Captain Switchlizard might be beyond help.
“We will take that under advisement,” Rudolph agreed.
Elizabeth hesitated, then broached the question that had bothered her since first meeting the Windthorst troops. “Pardon my boldness, your majesty, my lords, but is it true that the warrant for my arrest was signed by both the traitor and her majesty Queen Margaretha?”
Rudolph paled, as did his brother, then both flushed red with anger. “No. The creature claimed that?” Lewis demanded.
“Yes, your grace, when he first attempted to take me into custody.”
“No wonder he was so interested in keeping you in the field,” Rudolph growled to Lewis.
“And that explains why his people refused to show me the documents and warrants for Lady Elizabeth’s arrest. I could have spotted the forgery, if he truly included her majesty’s signature on the warrants.” Lewis’s eyes narrowed. “I believe Prince Alois will need to collect every scrap of paper in Windthorst House and in the foreign office files, your majesty.”