A World to Win

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A World to Win Page 15

by Mary Lancaster


  The coach moved forward again in the direction of the castle. It was as if the peasants’ silence was catching, for we said nothing either. When we were still some yards from the gates, the Count rapped on the roof again, and when the coach stopped, he moved to get out. Instinctively, Colonel von Avenheim reached out to stop him, but the old man smiled sardonically. “They’re not going to hurt me,” he said confidently, and got down without help.

  Almost mesmerized, I watched him stand examining the peasants like a general at a parade. “Lázár!” he barked out suddenly, and I jumped. Lajos’s father stepped forward in front of the Count, inclining his head with civility, but absolutely no servility. Eszter, I saw, was holding her head high.

  Beside me, Avenheim moved. Something caught my eye, and I glanced at him to see that he was taking a pistol from under his coat. My eyes flew to his in dumb panic. “Just a precaution,” he murmured easily, and I tore my eyes away, back to the confrontation outside.

  “What are you doing here, Lázár?” the Count demanded, his voice not unfriendly.

  “Minding my own business,” said Lázár unexpectedly.

  The Count peered at him, waving his stick up and down the lines. “And what are all these other people doing here?” he enquired.

  “You should ask them.”

  “I’m asking you.”

  Lázár appeared to consider. “I should say they’re minding their own business too.”

  “Bah!” exclaimed the Count impatiently. “Where’s that boy of yours? Lajos! Lajos Lázár! Come here, if you dare!”

  My palms were sweating. In the silence, the wild thumping of my heart seemed to fill my ears. I watched breathlessly as Lajos detached himself from the line and wandered casually down the road towards us. Lázár stepped back into his place beside Eszter, and Lajos inclined his head to the Count in much the same way as his father had. His light hair glinted in the torch light.

  “I asked your father what you all think you’re doing here,” said the Count loudly. “He tells me you are all minding your own business.”

  Lajos nodded. “Yes, that’s about it.”

  “You are impeding the business of my guests!” the Count growled. “So, move!”

  “We are impeding no one. Your guests are welcome to pass.”

  Frustrated, the old man tried to stare down the young, but for all his ferocity, he could not intimidate Lajos. I had never seen anyone who could. “These people,” said the Count abruptly. “They are not all from Szelényi.”

  “No,” Lajos agreed.

  “But they are also minding their own business? In someone else’s village?”

  “Yes,” said Lajos, adding helpfully, “Some of your guests may recognize them. They will certainly recognize your guests.”

  The Count turned away angrily. Then I saw his eyes narrow as he swung back again. “What is it all about, Lajos? What are you trying to do?”

  Lajos considered. “Be seen,” he said at last.

  “What?” The Count stared.

  “We are — making our presence felt. We, the people.” For the first time, his lip quirked upwards in the characteristic half-smile. “Look at the people. Do you feel like Lord of all you survey?”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The Count took a hasty step nearer him, lifting his stick as if to strike him. I gasped; the peasants seemed to sway forward as one, threatening, but Lajos himself never flinched. “No,” he said. “You and I hitting each other changes nothing. They—” he flung his arm out towards the lines of peasants “—will still be there. Recognize it. Change must come from you, but we, the people, we can force it.”

  Slowly, the Count’s arm fell to his side. “Insolent ingrate!” he hissed. “You dare to threaten me?”

  Lajos shook his head. “No. Just listen — believe me, I am returning a favour.” Their eyes were locked together again, the Count’s full of half-bewildered rage, Lajos’s registering only a sort of fearless tolerance which he seemed to be trying to communicate to the old man.

  “I know it’s your doing, boy. You brought them here,” said the Count, more quietly now. Lajos said nothing, and the Count leaned forward. “Send them away again. Now!”

  “We are doing no harm. We are just — there.”

  “Move them,” the Count said again, his voice dangerously calm.

  Beside me, I felt Avenheim stir, sliding into the seat opposite me, quietly levelling his pistol. My breath, which I seemed to have been holding up till then, escaped me now in a rush. “What are you doing?” I whispered with dread.

  “Nothing yet,” said Avenheim calmly.

  “You don’t need that!”

  “Probably not.”

  My gaze dragged itself away from the weapon and back to the protagonists outside. Wildly, I thought of calling out to Lajos that the Colonel had a gun, but would that not spark off the riot we all feared? I saw Lajos’s eyes flicker briefly towards the coach, and back to the Count. I prayed he had seen the pistol, and that it would make him disband these people, so terrifying in their stolid, immovable silence.

  Slowly, Lajos was shaking his head, the faintest half-smile touching his lips. “No,” he said simply.

  Appalled, if not really surprised, I closed my eyes, but a slight clicking sound caused them to fly open again immediately. The Colonel had cocked the pistol and was aiming steadily. It raced through my fearful head that he was just making sure that Lajos could see the gun, to force his submission to the Count, and in truth, I couldn’t imagine the kind Colonel assassinating anyone. But what was Lajos to him except a rebel, a danger to the establishment, to the state, to stability? I knew suddenly that this was not an empty threat. Desperately, I imagined hurling myself upon the Colonel to stop him firing, yet in such a situation of hair-trigger tension, what damage might I do? Unbearable panic rose up inside me.

  Outside, the Count was saying, “The soldiers will come.”

  “Not for a while. But there is no need of soldiers. We are harming no one.”

  “You are threatening!”

  “I guarantee your guests may pass with perfect safety,” said Lajos. “The people are staying.”

  Abruptly, because I could stand it no longer, I leaned forward and placed my hand heavily on the barrel of the gun. It was cold against my sweating skin. “Don’t,” I said hoarsely. I saw that my hand was shaking. The Colonel saw it too, and lifted his gaze to mine.

  “It’s the best way to diffuse the situation.” He looked puzzled rather than angry at having to explain his actions to a mere governess. “Remove the leader, and the rest, without a spokesman, will disperse.”

  “Remove!”

  “I shan’t kill him,” he said almost casually.

  “How can you be sure?” I whispered. “Oh, Colonel, this is not the way! Don’t you see?” I was speaking urgently now, desperately pulling reasons from my mind to justify my plea. “Shooting Lajos will not disperse these people — it will enrage them! Look at them, Colonel — they have nothing now, no rights, no protection, no wealth, very little health even, hardly enough food to keep body and soul together, and worse than all that, they have no hope for a better life. Except in him.” I stared at Avenheim, willing him to see it. “Lajos is their only hope, and if you take that away, their anger will erupt.”

  The Colonel looked at me thoughtfully, then back outside again. I felt as if the pounding beats of my heart were shaking me. Slowly, he lowered the pistol, and the relief which flooded through my trembling body was almost worse to bear than the fear. “Perhaps you are right,” he said. “We cannot risk a blood bath here, but where will it end, Mademoiselle, if we constantly give in to this sort of threat? Where will it end?”

  I shook my head dumbly, still shivering with reaction to the tragedy so narrowly averted, forcing myself to look out of the window again. Lajos was turning away from the Count, beginning to walk back to his original place. I caught sight of old Lázár’s face, and it held a fierce sort of pride in his son which tugge
d at my heart.

  The Count was climbing back into the coach, helped by Avenheim and the steward who had sat slumped with perfect terror in the corner throughout the entire proceedings. The coach moved forward. “Well?” asked Avenheim.

  “We could all stay here till morning, let the soldiers sort it out,” the Count ground out. “But I will not be held to ransom! They won’t disperse for hours, I know it!”

  I cleared my throat. “I don’t believe they’ll hurt anyone.”

  His erratic gaze fell on me. “And what do you know, Miss?” he said contemptuously.

  “I know they are making a point,” I said, refusing to be intimidated. “They won’t risk arrest, death, by harming any of your guests.”

  “They are discontented peasants! Serfs! Not reasoning men!”

  “Lajos Lázár is a reasoning man,” I said, feeling a new terror at just speaking his name in this company, in this situation. “None more so. And they do as he tells them. You said yourself that he arranged this. And he won’t risk his own arrest now in such a minor confrontation, not with the elections so close.”

  The Count stared at me open-mouthed, though whether at my temerity or my wisdom, I could not tell. Avenheim uttered a soft laugh. “The lady has prudence, Count. She has already prevented me from shooting young Lázár.”

  Startled, the Count turned his gaze on Avenheim. “Well thank heaven for that! If you’d shot him, they’d have torn us all limb from limb! They’ve made him into a — a god in these parts. They think he’ll make them all kings. Hah!” He tugged at his lip again, looking at me. “Very well,” he said abruptly. “We’ll take the chance.”

  I slumped back in my corner, drained. But I could not relax yet. Once through the castle gates again, we stopped and got out, and the Count and Avenheim went to speak to the anxiously waiting guests.

  Shivering in the suddenly cold night air, I watched the first coach beginning its journey at a fast trot. When it had passed, I glimpsed Lajos, still standing resolutely in the line opposite us. I had to give him credit: despite the fear it had whipped up — or perhaps because of it — it was a very effective demonstration. Without a trace of violence, it showed the masters of the land what the power of the people could be. It showed too that those masters already lived in terror of a peasant uprising.

  But another figure had caught my eye now. Pushing past the next coach on the side away from us, his uniform shining brightly in the torchlight, his hat held firmly in his hand, was Alexandru Zarescu, on foot. Head held high, he walked through the gates ahead of the coach, without a trace of fear. But instead of walking on, he swung abruptly to the left and came to a halt beside Lajos, where he stood as still and silent as the others while the carriages passed through the lines. My heart went out to him, for now, surely, by so publicly taking his stand with Lajos — and through sheer anger, I was sure — he had lost all hope of the Count relenting. But then, he had never had any real chance of that. I could feel tears catching the back of my throat, tried to swallow them back.

  For what seemed ages, the guests in all their finery left the castle through that interminable, silent line of poor, simple peasants. I could see their fear, their distaste, the nervousness of their drivers, whose sympathies I could only guess at. What a strange end to the Szelényi ball... I thought it would be a long time before any of these aristocrats visited each other’s estates again in the hours of darkness.

  “Katie?” It was Katalin, shivering beside me. “Oh, Katie, is that Alexandru with them? How could he do this now?”

  “He’s angry,” I said, squeezing her hand. “It makes no difference, you know...”

  She slumped against me. The whole disastrous evening, on which she had built all her unreasoning hopes, had finally defeated her. I saw the tears pouring unchecked down her beautiful face, and it was nearly too much for me to bear on top of all the rest.

  “Come inside,” I said gently, putting my arm around her and drawing us both away from the scene. “Don’t cry, Katalin. It will be all right tomorrow, you’ll see...”

  * * * *

  When, eventually, I fell exhausted into bed that night, I slept badly. My dreams were full of unknown dangers and hard, expressionless faces, and behind them all, somewhere, was the figure of Lajos Lázár, hovering between the tragic and the terrifying.

  I woke early, unrefreshed, but since I was unable to fall into sleep again, I rose and pottered around my bed-chamber, going over and over the events of last night in my mind. But I kept returning to Lajos and his “demonstration”, his confrontation with the Count, and the dreadful risk which he and all the people involved had taken by staging such a gathering. I should have known, I thought, when I had come upon him earlier in the castle, that he had been planning something, for had his manner not been just a little odd? There had even been a time when he was almost flirting with me...

  When the Count’s summons came, I was not surprised: he had every reason to suspect I had encouraged Katalin and Zarescu in last night’s folly. I confess I trailed my feet a little on the way to the library, but once there I took a deep breath, knocked briskly, and went in with a quiet confidence I was far from feeling.

  The Count was alone, standing in front of a closed bureau. With a shock, I realized that it could be the very desk in which he kept all my mother’s unanswered letters. He turned and looked at me. “Sit down, Mademoiselle.” He could never bring himself to utter my name.

  Demurely, I sat where he indicated, waiting almost resignedly for the axe to fall. The Count stood holding on to the back of the chair opposite, looking down at me with an expression both puzzled and thoughtful.

  “I don’t know why you should interest yourself in my affairs,” he said suddenly, “but I have cause to be grateful.”

  I frowned. “I don’t know what you mean, sir.”

  “I mean,” said the old man impatiently, “the fiasco by the castle gates. I believe it ended as best it could, and for that I have largely to thank you.”

  I felt the colour seep into my face. “Hardly, sir!”

  “You stopped Karl von Avenheim from shooting Lajos Lázár,” the Count said drily, “and that alone probably saved all our lives — however much I might wish the wretched boy out of my hair!”

  My eyes fell. I hadn’t been trying to save their lives. I had been trying to save Lajos.

  “You talked like a sensible woman, and we brushed through it without any riots, without any soldiers. Yours is sound advice, Mademoiselle.”

  I shifted uncomfortably. “Thank you,” I muttered.

  “You’ve got guts,” he said, nodding. “I admire that. I value that, and I wanted to tell you, I’m glad to have you with us.”

  Almost without knowing what I was about, I stood up again. “Thank you,” I said hastily, “but really, there is no need. It was all curiosity and common sense. If that is all, sir, may I go now and see to the children?”

  I saw amusement glisten in his fierce, old eyes. “Yes, off you go, child. Take with you my thanks, all our thanks.”

  This was unbearable. I almost bolted to the door, and as I opened it, I had a sudden urge to turn back, to blurt out the truth about myself and watch him take back his kind, unexpectedly generous words until I could retrieve my anger against him. But, of course, I didn’t. I fled to the nursery to find the children.

  That Sunday felt like the longest day in my life. Tired and overwrought, I contrived to keep the children amused, or at least busy, while I worried about Katalin and Lajos and myself. Then, restlessly, I went back to my own chamber, where the cheerful laughter of the stable boys below was filtering through the open window. The servants had been full of suppressed glee all day, in sharp contrast to the family’s nervousness and depression. Last night’s events had been a shock to everyone, but at least, I thought, they had lessened the impact of Katalin’s defiance...

  A sharp crack on the window made me jump out of this reverie. Investigating, I could see nothing to have caused such a no
ise, until I looked down into the yard and saw Lajos standing directly below, gazing up at me. My heart jolted with sudden fear for him.

  He lifted one hand, quickly signalling for me to come down. Terrified that he would be discovered by one of the family, I did not even pause to collect my bonnet, but ran down to the yard by the dark stairs and corridors I had discovered on my first evening, emerging into the warm sunlight more than a little breathless. Still alone, Lajos came to meet me. I could hear the muffled voices of grooms coming from various outbuildings.

  “Are you mad coming here today?” I whispered urgently.

  He took my arm. “Come for a walk, away from here. I need to talk to you.”

  As I let myself be led quickly out of the yard to the lesser village path, I could not prevent the silly surge of pleasure his words gave me. He didn’t speak until we were some distance away from the castle. Then he led me off the path, around the hill a bit, to where a large, leafy tree provided some shade from the burning sun. “I’ve nothing for you to sit on,” he said, making me smile at this lack of forethought, so unusual in him.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said, lowering myself to the ground. “The grass is quite dry.”

  He dropped down beside me, saying nothing for a few moments. His fingers began to pull distractedly at the grass while he looked at me with a steady, disconcerting gaze.

  “You saved my life,” he said suddenly.

  My eyes flew to his, surprised, searching. “You flatter yourself,” I said lightly, at last.

  He shrugged. “I don’t ask your reasons. It was best for everyone that the Colonel did not shoot me, but I’m sure you’ll agree that I have especial cause to be grateful.”

  I flushed. “What makes you think I could have prevented the Colonel from shooting you?”

 

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