Trapped with a Way Out

by Jeffery Martinez

  Victor gently took the reins and gave him a rueful smile, "We'll be off then," he picked up Ladislaus and slung him over like a sack of potatoes onto Marius's mount. Tying the lead rope of Marius's horse to Victor's own saddle, he then hopped on his smaller horse and led the way to the castle, Ladislaus in tow.

  Vincent clucked Hadúr forward and followed, silently brooding.

  "I said I did not want the pork!" Matthias whined and pushed his plate further across the table.

  William smacked the fork out of his hand, "No eating until father arrives! It's rude!"

  "But I'm DYING HERE!" Matthias pressed on and nibbled at the sides of his plate.

  William groaned in frustration as she decided to take in the beautiful spectacle of people who were all gathered in the dining hall to celebrate the first night of the tourney. All manner of people had arrived -subjects, nobles, counts, barons, dukes and duchesses had with officers to accompany them and servants to accompany the officers as well.

  She squirmed in her seat restlessly as she watched Richard rise to greet more guests entering. The ladies wore the most beautiful, bejeweled gowns to outwardly express their wealth, and the men wore their finest garments and pants slicked and steamed to perfection, sans wrinkles. It was a sight for all to behold to see so many people collected and gracious with one another, even if most did not have paralleled ideals.

  Richard, in great pain from her dress and its damnable, unforgiving vice grip on her, managed to look effortless as she made her way to the nearest person. It was known to her that she needed to ingratiate herself as guests came and went from room to room to ogle the valuables and architecture of the castle in all its glory. She ignored Rodriguez's obvious glances to get her attention over to him.

  "Ah, Lady Richard, such a lovely sight on the eyes!" Count Gavros chimed with his golden-gilded voice.

  She turned slowly around and curtsied, "Such wonderful news that you could make it."

  "And I am glad as well, though I do not see young Victor and his father here yet," his voice sounded like a tease.

  "I'm sure complications arose," she frowned at how he began to look at her like a hound does to a raw steak.

  "And if he took offense at something, Victor may no longer be present or welcome at this feast. Perhaps no longer welcome in the castle or in The Regent's wishes. What then? Who will give you what you need, who will sate your needs and wants? Perhaps someone with more wealth and experience, hmm?" Count Gavros refrained from licking his lips.

  "If we have in some manner offended him, I'm quite sure we will resolve any matters he finds offending by means of professional and diplomatic methods," Richard bluntly stated, deciding to ignore the sub-textual level he was discussing, and quickly changed the subject.

  "I see," he sounded more than insulted.

  "I trust your room satisfies your needs?" she asked.Oh, drat. Poor choice of words.

  "Indeed, it does," his lanky figure towered over hers as his thin hands intertwined in her right hand. He brought her hand up to his mouth and gently kissed, "Sleeping -or perhaps not- in those long hours of the night that one dreams, and space in which to put my things. But not all places are open in this large castle."

  "Nay," Richard smiled, "Certain areas are off limits, even to guests like yourself."

  Count Gavros eyed her dress over with a certain haughty arrogance, "Perhaps one day every room shall be open to myself and my…possessions."

  "Until then, turn your captivating attentiveness to the servants for any problems you have with your room," Richard refrained from growling and curtsied her way out of the conversation.

  Fortunately, another, more stout and stern man graced the room with his presence in a high fur coat and broadened shoulders from his armor underneath, so easily visible. He wore a self-threaded eye-patch that curled expertly around his bald head. Scanning the room, he instantly noticed Richard and walked over, "Ah! There you are! The jewel amidst the peril! How are you, my dear?"

  "Ulrich, Baron of Eyczing," Richard bowed her head in recognition, "I'm elated you could join us in our celebration to honor my father's commitment to the Kingdom of Hungary."

  "Yes," he skipped kissing her hand and grabbed her into a bear hug, "But was it not also his birthday?"

  "Yes, but we mustn't turn a blind eye to all that he has accomplished, and with such little support," she added in a low tone as suddenly more people crowded over her. It instantly became overwhelming as they seemed to corner her with their enthusiasm, all beginning to talk at once.

  Lady Illira joined the conversation, "My husband, Lord Benjámin, is ever grateful of your father's continuing fronts against the Ottoman Empire, and of his success." She motioned for even more to come and talk as well, noting the quite applauded and comely Lady Richard.

  "And I have no one but The Regent to thank for the Ottomans' collective failure in stealing my stock, not to mention my lands," Johan, prospective Duke of Thuringia, added, "My family has long since known of his greatness, and I can only hope that I meet him personally before this is over," he twirled his moustache thoughtfully as he took another sip of his own mead.

  "Very kind of you," Richard bowed her head, "Might I say he is so devoted to protecting the kingdom because he has such remarkable nobles standing behind him?" She glanced at an amused Ulrich, who had remembered just moments prior that she had confided in him such was, in fact, NOT the case.

  All in her presence laughed and agreed jovially.

  "I almost wish we could alleviate the swelling burden placed upon his shoulders by receiving Ladislaus V out of Frederick V's hands," Ulrich, Baron of Eyczing dared to state.

  Richard was about to form an answer when another man stepped in, "The good Lord knows that you and I have been both trying, but we have not received the fruits of our attempts due to our never-ending failing streak."

  "Ah, Ulrich II, Princely Count of Celje. I like your name," Ulrich of Eyczing chuckled and shook hands with him.

  "How are you, my dear friend?" Ulrich II asked, genuinely concerned, "And our army of men -are they ready to save Ladislaus V?"

  Hushed whispers fell across the circle of people.

  "I beg pardon?" Richard braved through the act of social misconduct and brazenly asked, though her fellow gender-mates threw scornful glares her way.

  Both men turned to her in a shocked manner, to which Richard took offense.

  "What, you just blithely say this in open conversation and then expect no one to ask what you mean to do?" she defended her position.

  Ulrich II's eyes softened, "No, my dear. I'll tell you exactly what we are inclined to do. Ladislaus V has been held in captivity by Frederick V ever since Ladislaus's father died. Frederick had previously lost every conflict on the battlefield against Albert VI, the Archduke of Austria, and thus resorted to more subtle means. This included turning against his own second cousin once removed, Ladislaus V, so as to internalize more power for himself. I'm not entirely sure -none of us are- of what his intentions are, or of how much longer he is willing to keep the boy alive. That is why we must, with all due haste, reach Ladislaus V and bring him back, for he is the rightful heir to the Kingdom of Hungary."

  Richard stood for a moment to soak every delicately placed word and nodded, "You are right. This must be done. I shall speak with my father to obtain any men he can possibly spare to save this young boy. The crown must not fall into malicious hands."

  Both Ulrich's agreed, "We intend for it not to be so."

  Johan, prospective Duke of Thuringia jumped on the opportunity, "Would you also perhaps express discomfort on my part to your father that he has increased taxes on my brother, Mihály?"

  "I believe that if your brother has some quarrel with how things are run here, he can take it directly to my husband," Richard's mother arrived, wearing a wondrously blue and purple soft dress with hooped sleeves slit down the middle.

  "Mother," Richard curtsied as everyone in the room bowed and or curtsied in kind.


  "Please, do not cease talking amongst one another. The Regent will be in shortly," Erzsébet pronounced his title with loving care. She then turned privately to Richard, "I see you find yourself content to speak politics to the men," she said with evident disapproval.

  Richard rose her chin defiantly, "And if I do? What shall you do? Openly chastise me, dear mother? Oh, heavens, but that would be un-ladylike of you," she sassed.

  "Err..." Ulrich II awkwardly began, "I think Ulrich of Eyczing and I will excuse ourselves to the…Club Tower, or the White Bastion." They both bowed graciously to both women and exited.

  Erzsébet bowed her head kindly until they left, but then her face turned a bright shade of red as she tried to temper her rage, "Of course not, my dear. I would invite you to the cellar and then promptly lock you there for your ungrateful, ungracious, and unforgiving attitude until I saw fit to release you. Even now you've caused a scene, and you're starting to scare people away."

  "I…I'm sorry. I'm just held together by a shoe string, it seems, no thanks to the now imminent arrival of my soon to be…" Richard couldn't finish the sentence.

  For a moment, Richard actually believed her mother due to her more than acidic tone. Then she suddenly morphed her expression into a look of elated joy as she pulled Richard away from her circle for a moment.

  "We are expecting George of Kunštát and Poděbrady and Lord Victor to enter at any moment, but I fear that the feast signifying the first day of the Turneul Cavalerilor must start soon." The governess nervously glanced at her audience of people, but deduced that they were, more or less, content for the moment.

  William walked up to them with a smile curling her petite lips, "Pip will be guarding us tonight."

  All of the great import of that sentence could easily be read in her expression as she turned to look at his familiar light leather armor and bow across the room. He had turned around at the same time and dared to wink at her in the governess's presence, quickly and bashfully turning around. But the scene was so cute it was almost sickly sweet, and Erzsébet decided to forget it happened.

  Richard sighed and tried to smile back, already feeling the initial signs of fatigue after catching up on the politics of her kingdom. Sometimes, she hadn't the slightest idea as to how her father managed.

  "Umm, mother?" William tore her stare away from Pip to the table at which she was sitting, "When will father be in? I think Matthias will soon go stark-raving mad from lack of food."

  The two other women watched as the young boy began to gnaw on his cloth napkin, attempting to pick it apart as his teeth ripped into the fabric like a hound on its first kill -lots of mess, and lots of slobbering.

  "Oh dear! Where are the ladies-in-waiting?" Erzsébet scurried over to him and grabbed both of his tiny arms.

  Richard let out another exasperated sigh, "Can I not get this over and done with? Where is Victor?"

  Just as she asked that, her father stepped into the room, ceremonial garments draped all around him, including his coat of arms and emblems dating back generations in his family. A magnificent and wide grin adorned his wrinkled face as he was instantly crowded over, shaking hands with this person, bowing to that person. All of his guests clapped and openly cheered for him. Erzsébet reached for her handkerchief as her eyes began to mist with pride. William joined the clapping, and after a few moments of trying to maintain her serious and professional composure, Richard's stern and aloof expression warmed into a chuckle as she joined her younger sister, forgetting entirely in that moment about Victor -her seemingly elusive, intended man.

  AHAHAHAHA! I fooled you ALL. You thought I was going to kill Ladislaus? Feh! His character is MUCH too important to the story and plot. Besides, he doesn't die until 1457. I had to give him a reason to stop going on his father's missions, which he inevitably did stop doing. And, as always, anything I write it subject to change to further perfect this story. No Richard/Vincent this chapter. I'm ready for my chastisement.

  ~Side question for reviewers & optional: (And first write your review of the chapter before answering, please. I'd hate to have this entire chapter's reviews just be replies to this question than telling me what your thoughts were about the writing). Okay, here it is. I've noticed that it takes me exceptionally longer to write a nine/ten page chapter than it does for me to write a five-pager. Now, this goes to you. Should I post five-pagers, thus enabling me to write *possibly* faster, or do you wish for the long nine/ten pagers that you have to wait for but are posted and delicious too? I've never considered writing shorter chapters, but I'm considering it now since it takes me longer to write the biggies~

  The ball is in your court. Let me know what you think! Hope everyone had a nice fourth of July! I went to a wedding, and the only thing that hurt were the plane tickets and spending of money and drinks and presents and movie tickets and meals and hotel rooms and…*looks at credit and debit card on life support*…Oh, god…where was Admiral Ackbar to tell me "IT'S A TRAP!"

  To Sylvan Moon: Welcome aboard! I appreciate your consistency of reviews. I'd thought you'd just write the one. I'm pleased that you like the story so much. Forgive me, but this will be a long response, as I'm catching up to your reviews. I do this once every couple of chapters. Or every other. Whichever.

  To your chapter 15 review, I'm surprised you think that Walter and Max were actually friends, because not only does Walter reveal that he does not like the vampire in the manga, he shows it by playing a Benedict Arnold and turning over to the Nazis -all to defeat that which he hates most (Max). I'm trying to tap into that hatred he has for Vincent (Max) in this story. I would not want him to play a lie throughout my entire fanfic like he does in the manga, so I tell you upfront that he despises Vincent. However, he cares too much for Richard to act on his hatred (or so you're led to believe *evil grin*) especially now that he suspects that there might be something going on between the two.

  As for your question in chapter 16… 'Mmmm' is my answer. Interpret that however you must. "Vincent" is short for Vincentimir. Or sometimes even Vincentislav. Or sometimes Vincentislaus. I'm just assuming his full name is Vincentimir. If it's not, then I mentally chide his parents for giving him a nickname instead of a full one. Think of it as saying "Nick" instead of Nicholas.

  As for your daydream, I believe Shinkicker had a similar wonder -whether or not I would add something at the very end; like Max rousing from this entire story, realizing it was a dream and noticing that there were similar characters in his past life to the ones he lives with now, in the King Organization. It certainly sounds intriguing, and I have considered writing a little tidbit at the end, but we'll have to see if the plot needs it or not.

  And your chapter 17 review, well, let's just say…I can tell you Vincent would brazenly let you know he was slipping into a murderous rage- I mean…experiencing slight discomfort.

  Neither begging nor bribery will be necessary for me to continue this story. All you need to do is be patient with my sporadic updates. Lemons are wonderful, but I have to be strategic on where I place them, else this fic would transform into a sappy romance novella that would escalate its rating easily to "M".

  Limes are posers. Lemons are fresh, electrically stingy, eye-wateringly, and lip-puckering-wonderful. Go big, or go home…Now I'm thinking of the meme "Why can't I hold all these lemons?"

  "APOTHECARY!" Victor shouted, "APOTHECARY!"

  Vincent slunk off of Hadúr and fell to the muddy floor, not even bothering to catch himself with only one functioning leg. Every ounce of energy he had left poured out as burnt reservoirs of the last adrenaline he had. It was a short burst, a flame that was soon picked up by the wind and flickered to inexistence as it burnt up into the air with a short, puffed, and audible wheeze of breath.

  Victor hopped off of his mount and rushed over to pick Ladislaus up from Seneschal Marius's horse, throwing the lord over his shoulder once more, "APOTHECARY! I NEED AN APOTHECARY NOW!"

  A guard managed to race up to them on the drawbr
idge in the chaos and shouting of more people arriving, "Who be calling for an apothecary? What need have yeh for such a man?"

  "This man is injured and unconscious, and he needs medical attention now, if he is to survive!" Victor grabbed the man by his collar gently but firmly, "I am Lord Victor of the House of Poděbrady. My father is George of Kunštát and Poděbrady, regent to Bohemia. This man," Victor pointed to the direction of Vincent, only to realize that he had collapsed, "This man is a court advisor to your own regent. He is also injured. If they are to live, you must direct me to the apothecary. NOW!"

  The castle guard was released and pointed the frantic man in the right direction, "Please, my lord, enter this way. He is on the second story, tenth door to your left. We have been moving people and rooms to accommodate the nobility arriving, or else he would have been placed down here. If you cannot find him, come to me afterwards."

  Victor was already struggling to hand the reins of each of the horse's to the guard, "Do not lose these animals. Place them in the stables and I shall personally pay you extra to keep them warm and fed," and he bent down to nudge Vincent. The guard nodded with raw enthusiasm at the offer of extra coin and made off with haste.

  "W-what?" Vincent asked, delirious, "I'm afraid the poison has taken my entire right side. My arm is not responding either."

  "Please, Sir Vincent, you must keep moving. You cannot fall asleep yet!" Victor grunted and almost was tipped over while holding Ladislaus as a rude noble trotted passed them on his steed, "Have you any respect; there are injured people about!" Victor roared at the man who waved them off as a response.

  Vincent reached up to the closest stirrup he could grasp and pulled himself back onto his good foot with a loud and painful growl of determination. He steadied himself with Victor's free arm and began to hobble quickly to keep up.

  The group passed the inner gatehouse and entered the frenzied inner ward where menservants of the castle and of individual nobles as well scuttled around with plates, dishes, glasses, potted plants, dry food, and even small furniture to redirected rooms. Victor found it extremely strenuous not to barge into someone and not to be hit by others. As far as the servants were concerned, they saw Victor as some man who was also probably a servant carrying a drunkard on his shoulder up the stairs to the second floor, while also balancing another man with an injured foot.