Trapped with a Way Out

by Jeffery Martinez

  Civilization, at last. Richard would finally know the warmth of a fire, a hot meal, and a soft bed by nightfall. She would be received well, would be given presents to return to her father as tribute, would feast on wild boar and not undercooked rabbit leg, would be dressed in the finest cloth, and would wine and dine with the court.

  The bustling new city was alive with trade and prosperity. Such energy in the face of a looming threat was infectious to Richard. It was not as quaint as she had originally thought. The city stood on its own merit when compared to the robust style of where she had just come, and it was ever growing and expanding. As she rode in with Vincent and Walter, Richard absorbed the scene as it unfolded before her eyes. Trade, barter, and gambling were the three modes of moneymaking. Merchants hollered their prices into the lively pathways as street rats had already begun their arts of pocket picking. Whispers of the famous treasure troves that one could find in Târgoviște were legendary. One could not go through a sitting at supper without the locals wrapping up travelers' imaginations with untold fame and fortune at their fingertips.

  Târgoviște was quickly becoming a jewel in the crown of the Kingdom of Hungary. Economy was friend here, and so were innovative and inventive spirits. Everything worked in tandem, no doubt the product of the nobility and ruling court relocating to Târgoviște from Curtea de Argeș. And what a beauty this new city was.

  As the group weaved through the stirring streets, Richard noticed the Princely Court, or Curtea Domnească, as they approached. It was surrounded by stone walls and a moat, while a smaller church was within the fortified stronghold. The compound was daunting, to say the least. Guards protected it faithfully at every post along the walls and watched on as she and her fellow riders entered their domain.

  One in particular held his hand up as they approached the steps, "Halt. Who wishes entrance into the hall?"

  Richard, slightly stunned that Lord Vincentislav II was not present to address her, pulled up in front of Vincent as he motioned for her to take the lead, "It is I, Lady Richard Hunyadi, of House Hunyadi, sent as envoy from the regent, Lord János Hunyadi."

  Walter promptly pulled out the official and sealed papers inside his saddle bag and handed them to the questioning guard.

  He perused the paper with great interest and motioned his hand to lower weapons. It was at this point that Richard noticed why Vincent did not move a muscle—crossbows were aimed at each of their hearts. What once were peaceable guards mindlessly operating their posts, working just another day, transformed into focused, poised bodies and steadying hands, ready to release the horror of what armor-penetrable arrows do best to the human body.

  "I see you are who you claim to be. You may enter," he side-stepped out of the way forward.

  Richard nodded dully, "Might I ask why the men are so ready to kill their allies?"

  The guard scornfully scoffed, "My Lady, everyone has caught wind of what happened at Castle Hunyad. I doubted you would mind our outward severity in introductions to all who approach the stronghold after what happened to your father and brother, not to mention all of the other nobles who lost their lives."

  Richard sighed, glancing around and clucking her horse forward, "Do not assume of anything I would mind, especially on matters in which you were not present."

  "Apologies, my Lady." The guard bowed and refrained from saying anything further.

  Her servants rushed to her aid as the caravan finally landed in the stables, unpacking everything and organizing it all in a frenzy.

  "Please, my Lady, let us collect everything. You must make your arrival known to Lord Vincentislav II," Ana reached for Richard's saddlebags and shooed the other flustered servants away, "We will guard everything with our lives. Fear not," she stated in a low voice and smiled, "Now, go and demand why we were not received politely and correctly by the Lord himself."

  Richard nodded, abandoning her compulsion to watch over everything, "I will." She cleared her throat and Vincent appeared conveniently, "Sir Vincent, would you accompany me to the hall and find out just why we were not recognized upon entrance?"

  Vincent bowed, "I would call it an honor to see you tear this man to shreds on account of his lack of formality, but you must understand something first."

  Richard felt her impeccable posture tighten slightly. She never appreciated when he would tell her she did not know the entire situation. It challenged her competence, and that was one of her sensitive temper points.

  "Alright. Go on." She walked towards him after ordering Walter to stay and help the servants. He hesitantly complied with unspoken resentment.

  Vincent held out his arm for her and watched her take it without pause. This pleased him greater than he thought the simple act would.

  "We are currently located on a border province. These areas whose borders touch the enemy are in constant contact with them. These places do not have the advantage of being densely populated like the heartland of the Kingdom of Hungary with sheer numbers and brute force on its side. While one might be used to the greater safety that is inland from the borders, along the outskirts the fighting is quite different. The battles are not just battles, but a struggle to continue existing as a province. And if that is not enough, the whole system is rife with duplicity."

  The pair walked up the steps and into the hall with a sure step. The doors opened to a rugged environment much less gaudy than the tapestries of the Hunyad Castle. It was furs, wool blankets and thick, wiry rugs with clumps of dirt littered everywhere. There was no red, no blue, and no color at all. Richard was astonished by how much she appreciated the modesty in its decor. It may have been less showy, but that lent it and air of honesty that was impermeable to the temptation of being ostentatious in its new, up-and-coming notice. The throne room itself was dark, cold, and unforgiving in its manner, much like the Lord ruling it who was not on his throne awaiting their arrival.

  Richard's lips curled up into a snarl at his rudeness. "So you excuse the Lord's timely absence as acceptable?"

  "On the premise that he might be out there fighting right now based on our proximity to the enemy?" Vincent smiled at her knowingly for a pause, "I think a Lady can find it in her heart to forgive a Lord's tardiness, especially when she remembers that his province's borders kiss the Ottoman's."

  Richard almost felt a chill pass by her on cue when she felt Vincent's arm flex as they ventured further in, trying to hunt down a manservant to fetch Lord Vincentislav II. No one was anywhere to be found. Vincent stopped her gingerly as they approached the corner. Noticing their proximity to the throne for the first time, he inhaled deeply, which almost caused Richard to inquire.

  "This…I think we should wait here before we are caught snooping around. Though we are innocently searching for the Lord, I doubt he would take one look at me and believe it."

  Richard noticed he was beginning to gravitate towards the throne with temptation, "Sir Vincent," she tugged on him slightly and his focus was brought back to her instantly...mostly.

  "It was mine, Richard. This whole province," he murmured, "I had it in my grasp, and I let it slip through my fingers. But, no more," Vincent let go of her arm and turned to face her, leaving his back to the grand seat, "My Lady, when the time comes, you cannot hold me back."

  "From Lord Vincentislav II?" she uttered with jeer, "Sir Vincent, that is why the regent sent me in the first place. It was to make sure that you two did not kill one another."

  "I swore. I took a vow—"

  "To rid the world of Islam, not one Christian man," she dismissed him too quickly.

  "That one man murdered my father and my elder brother!" he broke into a shout and did not care to control it. She shouldn't dare insult his dignity or sense of honor, especially when they touch upon his family. "If I cannot avenge them, then what use am I to exterminate the entire religion of Islam?!"

  "You are so dramatic," she insulted again, this time eliciting a growl from him that caused her to face his repressed, murderous rage she h
ad not taken seriously beforehand. Richard paused, unsure what had overcome her to be so insensitive, "…You serve nothing and no one by following your family into the earth, which is exactly what you will be doing if you attempt to kill this Lord."

  "I have to try, else my life and all its meaning are forfeit."

  She disagreed, whispering out her answer, as she could expose herself to all who heard such treason, "You cannot avenge your family from the grave, Sir Vincent. This is not the man I know. The man I know would concoct a devious plan, he would sit in the shadows until his entire orchestrated plot was ready to unfold and then wait for—"

  "Wait? I've waited six painful years to exact justice! Come the moment of truth, and you want me to WAIT?" Vincent forced himself to pace tightly around to avoid the alternative of thrashing her. His eyes were ablaze with conflict as he laughed in disbelief.

  Richard returned him with an icy, emotionless stare, "Little do you know of how patient Death can be. Let your head calm and your Reason return," her eyes then alight with pride, "And if that is not good enough for you, then I order you not to kill him. You remember you are indebted to serve me, yes?"

  "That shan't be necessary, my Lady," a theatrical voice carried over the dead room.

  Richard froze, as did Vincent.

  Lord Vincentislav II appeared from the corner of the room and, instead of making his way to them in person, he tastelessly took the steps to his throne two-by-two and plopped himself down into it, smugly watching Vincent's hateful expression. The Lord stroked the fine leather cushions with possession and motioned for his army of guards into the room, now watching gleefully at Vincent's reaction to the formidable meat shield in his way of avenging his murdered family.

  Richard took this pause to measure the Lord's resolve. He was a stern, nearly middle-aged looking fellow with a shrewd face, a bushy moustache that danced up and down his mouth with each word, and scanning chocolate brown eyes that saw plots scheming against him every which way he looked. Aside from his receding hairline and aged skin, he was fit underneath his clothing, and though his outwardly, somewhat disheveled appearance may have made him look less than harmful, Richard sensed he was no fool.

  It had been many years since she had lat seen him, but, by the looks of it, Wallachia had changed him significantly in the relatively short amount of time he had been ruling over it.

  Richard stepped in between both men quickly as she noticed Vincent begining to inch forward, "My Lord, I am glad you are well. I am—"

  Lord Vincentislav II waved a dismissing hand as he chuckled, "Spare me the formalities; there is no time to exchange pleasantries, my dear. I know who you are."

  She paused, aggravated that he had verbally shoved her off of the conversation's sure footing, "I have the documents to show that I am envoy to the regent, Lord János Hunyadi, and for the duration of my stay is Lord Vincentislaus III Ramos at my side," she motioned back at Vincent who was staring as blankly as he could ahead of him. Vincent did not bow on cue.

  The Lord smiled mockingly down at him from his high seat, "Tell me, Vincent, doesn't one have to claim ownership of property, obtain vassals, subjects, servants, and swear fealty to the ruling king in order to own the appellation of 'Lord'?"

  Vincent controlled his shaking voice, "Among other things, yes. I—"

  "Tell me, how many of those have you obtained?" Vincentislav II interrupted the incoming retort.

  Richard thought quickly to maintain the floor, "My Lord, he is advisor to Lord János Hunyadi and has been for months. He has provided my father with invaluable information, aided my brother, Lord Ladislaus Hunyadi, in several uprisings while also personally saving his life from being murdered by assassins, and has never once given us suspicion as to where his allegiances lie, which is to say that this is more than most lords can say they have accomplished in their lifetimes. At the risk of speaking out of turn —you must forgive me— but he did not come for your entertainment, and nor did I. In order for this to work, both sides must cooperate."

  He considered her words for a moment, but his scowl appeared sooner than hoped. It was clear he grouped Richard with Vincent before believing she was his ally. "And why, exactly, did the regent send you, my Lady? So that you could watch my every move on how I am using his reinforcements he so generously had provided me? I fear I am putting them to great waste, don't you see?" his acidic and sarcastic tone matched his grandiose gesture around the vacant room, aside from his guests and personal guards, "I am afraid they are all out in the field sacrificing their lives so the regent can have his meals uninterrupted at night. If you deigned to inform him, you might tell him I am in dire need of more troops daily, especially now that the rest of the Hungarian Lords have decided to burrow themselves into a cave rather than face the Ottoman onslaught. You wish to report something? Report that."

  Richard absorbed ever hostile word and realized that he identified and accused her as one of the upper-crust, snobbish nobility who preferred to stay ignorant of all the troubles that now threatened their lands. "I am not here to judge, my Lord. I am here to observe and to offer my diplomatic services as Lady of the regent's court in your house."

  His boisterous laughter sent her nerves straight to the cutting board. "Good lord, János really has trained you well. You were just a wee little girl last I saw you," he clapped his hands in amusement, as if he were applauding a circus act, "Shall I show you to your room?"

  Richard inhaled shakily and closed her eyes for a moment. Underestimating her intellectual powers was not in his best favor. Believing she had not changed and was the same child who didn't understand or comprehend her surroundings was flatly insulting. But worst of all? Dismissing her entirely and equating her to a maid. That was unconscionable.

  Richard swiftly opened her eyes and slammed her foot on the ground, causing all of the guards to flinch and the Lord to return his undivided attention to her, "That is enough! My Lord, I will not stand here and be taken for the fool. I will not allow you to batter me with insults, nor will I condone it for Sir Vincent. This back-and-forth childish banter is tasteless, unscrupulous, immoral, and unethical. I'd expect such regressing action from a taproom in a tavern, not from the highborn Lord of a province. Now, we will all comply with what my father wishes. I will be well-informed of any orders that are given to you, Lord Vincentislav II, and you will obey them, by my diplomatic powers or otherwise," she paused to smile disturbingly to make an even stronger point, "It would not be conducive to your good health to incur my wrath, for I represent my father."

  One loyal guard straightened stiffly, "No one threatens His Lordship in the presence of his guard!"

  "I am not threatening the Lord-Regent of Wallachia, I am educating a man of his sworn fealty to my father," Richard calmly called behind her, "Sir Vincent, the next time this guard speaks, out of turn I might add since I did not address him, kill him," she turned her attention back to the enraged guard, "That was a threat. See the difference?"

  Lord Vincentislav II slowly rose from his seat with purpose, locking eyes with Richard and seemingly noticing that she was a fully matured Lady for the first time, he bowed deeply and respectfully. Rising, he donned an expression of awe and wistful amusement, "My, you are your father incarnate, my Lady. Perhaps all that and more. You are your entire father and then some. Forgive me, I had long forgotten what that felt like—some competence in the room for a change."

  William tore through the guards like butter as she determinedly shoved passed and to her brother's quarters. Pushing the double doors with all of her might, William flung herself into the room with and incredulous expression accompanied with wide eyes of astonishment as she gasped. Pip stood above Ladislaus with his mouth slightly ajar as well. It couldn't be true, could it? It had been so long since anyone had reported Ladislaus even twitching. He was simply watched every hour of the day to make sure his chest rose and fell with his heartbeat, but this? Could it have been a miracle? Could God have finally answered her prayers?


  Silently, William made her way to Pip's side and tugged onto his shoulder sleeve. The words didn't come to her at first.

  "He…are you sure?"

  Pip nodded, "Oui, I'm not lying, but I wanted to make sure that I wasn't seeing things first."

  William hesitated for a moment, bending over slightly to will her hand to touch Ladislaus when she heard a groan from inside the covers.

  "There's no…need to trouble yourself. I…am awake…dear s-sister." The owner of the voice burrowed through the covers and found an opening to pop his head out.

  "LADISLAUS!" William screamed, her entire body collapsing onto the bed as she melted into a puddle of thankful tears, kissing his hands.

  He moaned at the sudden weight displacement but shakily found the strength to pull the covers off of himself bit by bit. Looking his mangled body over, he swallowed hard and let his eyes drift away to some point in the distance.

  Pip had already sent word for the regent immediately, though from William's reaction, it was hard to believe the regent needed a message. People in the dungeons had probably heard her.

  "How long?" Ladislaus asked with some difficulty. His voice was worse than raspy. It crackled and gave out at every vowel, and he strained from the pain of its lack of use. Every time he spoke, though sparingly, it felt like the insides of his throat were being massaged by a cheese grater.

  William glanced at Pip and reluctantly answered, "A month and two and a half weeks."

  He paused to let the weight of the duration sink into his mind, trying not to waste energy laughing as William poked him with her index finger to make sure he was real, "I would ask how everyone else is, but from your...your troubled expressions I can tell that I've missed a great deal."