A soldier came clattering downstairs, presenting a pillow to Major Conway, who removed his eyes reluctantly from Elisabeth in order to look at the exhibit. His gaze lifted again to the soldier, and I felt a twinge of serious alarm.
“Where?” he asked, and the soldier answered, “The first room on the left.”
The world reeled a little, but I steadied it again.
“Who,” enquired Major Conway, “occupied the first room on the left last night?”
István opened his mouth, but at this stage it seemed better to tell the truth.
“I did,” I said quickly.
“You, Mademoiselle?” He sounded astonished. “How strange. Perhaps you can explain to me how there comes to be so much blood on your bedding?”
I dropped my eyes, for I had just discovered his amiable orbs to be uncomfortably penetrating. “Really, Major, that is not something you should ask a lady.”
I heard Katalin’s tiny, shocked gasp. The soldier blushed furiously, but Conway was made of sterner stuff.
“On your pillow?” he said in blatant disbelief.
I lifted my head and stared at him. “Certainly. I had a nose-bleed.”
“She is subject to them,” Katalin said helpfully. “Nose-bleeds and headaches.”
“Unfortunate lady.”
“I could have more distressing ailments,” I observed judiciously.
Another soldier shouted something over the banister.
“Ah yes,” said Conway. “The young man in the second room on the right?”
“My brother,” said István. “He is very ill...”
Smiling unhappily, József went upstairs to watch the soldiers ransacking his bed-chambers. I went too, to look in on Mattias. Then, restless and curious, I wandered out into the passage. One of the soldiers, a sergeant, I think, was asking József, “You got attics here?”
The innkeeper shrugged. “No, I don’t think so.”
“You should have, under a roof like that.”
“Yes?” József didn’t sound very interested. “We have enough space without attics.”
The sergeant was poking around in a cupboard, in search, I presumed, of an attic stair. József watched him with a lugubrious serenity which calmed my sudden alarm.
“Come on, Jew, you know damn well you have attics!” the sergeant said impatiently. “How do I get in?”
József shrugged elaborately. “Why ask me? If I have attics, I have never seen them! I don’t like heights. My wife hates spiders. Why should we bother with dirty, old attics?”
Too much, I thought suddenly. József was saying too much. I knew with certainty then that there were attics, and that Lajos was there. Perhaps the sergeant felt the same; or perhaps he just liked to cause as much trouble as possible. At any rate, he summoned three other soldiers and set them to prodding at ceilings all over the upper floor.
Suddenly an exclamation of triumph escaped him, and something inside me twisted with an almost physical pain, while the sergeant pushed a part of the hall ceiling upwards.
“Here!” he shouted. “Here it is!”
He poked his head in rather warily, peering inside. Carefully, he reached up through the hole and hauled himself upwards. At his snapped order, a soldier passed him up his rifle. My throat was dry. I couldn’t hear anything but the frantic thundering of my heart: it seemed to be saying, “Not now, not now, not now.” It would be too cruel, too unfair if they took him now... Surely he had suffered enough in the last two months to satisfy the most merciless judge...?
I found I was alone in my own room — it seemed to be the only one not full of soldiers. My fingers twisted together uselessly. This was intolerable. Don’t let them find him... please, God, be generous, now... He didn’t believe in God.
I barely heard the movement above me. I think it was the shadows that made me look up, and then I saw that there was a door in my ceiling too, and Lajos was noiselessly easing himself through it, one-armed and awkward.
Fear made me act swiftly. Silently, I seized the upright chair from the corner, placing it under the hole for him to drop on to. He landed with some relief, carefully drawing the door closed again so that no hint of the opening remained. His face was white with pain — or perhaps strain — but to my amazement, there was a demon of mischief dancing in his eyes.
Lajos, Lajos, this is not a game!
His lips quirked when he saw the expression on my face. He touched it briefly, comfortingly, then lifted the heavy chair, moving it back to its corner. Helplessly, I watched him, and then, with a jolt, I realized quick footsteps were moving along the hall towards us. Lajos heard them too. Swift and light as a cat, he ran along the wall to the closed door, so that when it opened, he would be behind it. He held his sword close to him in case it fell against either the wall or the door. Petrified, unable to breathe, I stared at the closed door, praying for the decisive footsteps to pass.
They stopped. The door was pushed open impatiently.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Smoothing my face just in time, I gazed upon Major Conway. He held my bloodstained pillow in his hands.
“I beg your pardon,” he said in English. “I didn’t think anyone was here.”
I moved quickly to take the pillow from him, but he was already advancing into the room, passing me and placing the pillow on the bed. Lajos used the opportunity to slip silently round the open door and out into the passage. I made an instinctive, anguished movement after him, waiting for the cries of discovery; but strangely, none came. I tried to school my features into cool disdain as I turned to face the Major.
“Thank you,” I said briefly.
“I didn’t know if you would need it tonight. Perhaps you are staying here?”
“No. We have other plans.”
Conway smiled faintly. “I’m sure they are for the best,” he said, and his voice was not unkind. Above us sounded the heavy clumping of soldiers’ boots. Conway looked amused. “What in the world are they doing up there?”
“I believe they have discovered attics which József never knew existed,” I said indifferently. I regarded him directly. “Exactly what — or who — is it you are looking for, Major?”
He never answered me, for István was standing on the threshold, glaring icily at him.
“Whatever it is,” István said coldly, “I doubt you will find it in my niece’s bed-chamber. I really think my family have been put to enough inconvenience.”
“I have told you, sir — you are quite free to go,” Conway said gently, and for the first time I thought our lingering here so long must look suspicious to him. And yet how could I leave without Lajos?
“Come, Katie,” said István. Then, to the officer: “By the by, is my friend Avenheim still in command of your regiment?”
“Yes, sir. He was imprisoned for a time by the Hungarians, but when we retook Beszterce, he rejoined us.”
“Give him my regards,” said István, and that at least he meant sincerely, even if it doubled as a warning to the Colonel’s subordinates. István and I left the room. In the passage, the soldiers who had been disappointed and frustrated by their futile search of the attics, were accusing József of lying to them.
“Of course you knew of them!” one exclaimed. “They’re packed full of stuff!”
“Not mine,” József said at once.
I no longer knew where Lajos was. More to hide my nervousness than anything else, I went downstairs, where chaos reigned. Marta was screaming at the soldier in her kitchen, and through the open door I could see that she and Zsuzsa were about to belabour him with saucepans. The children, meanwhile, were shouting with laughter, chasing each other in circles around Katalin, who seemed to be about to tear her hair out.
With relief, I reverted to a role I knew.
“Miklós! Anna! Come here this instant!” said the governess severely, and was surprised when they still obeyed her.
Katalin cast me a glance of pure gratitude, and as I took them outside — manageable now
, if not quite docile — she followed me. I avoided her questioning gaze, for I was terribly afraid we would be overheard if we discussed anything of importance.
Under the eyes of the soldiers — some cold, some amused — who stood around by the gate and the stables, I persuaded the children to play ball with each other, inventing a series of complicated rules to keep them interested. Katalin and I stood together watching them, with our backs pointedly to the soldiers whose remarks, judging by the ribald laughter in the yard, had grown crude and lascivious.
“This is intolerable,” Katalin said in a low, shaking voice. “If they don’t want István, what in the world are they looking for?”
“Lajos,” I breathed. “I’m sure of it... And the truly damnable thing is, we only bring suspicion on ourselves by staying here...”
“Mattias’s illness is a good enough excuse... oh God.”
I glanced at her in quick alarm, and saw that her eyes were fixed on something ahead of her. I tried to be discreet in following her gaze, but I couldn’t prevent the breath from catching in my throat. Lajos was climbing out of the window of Mattias’s room.
For several seconds it seemed as if my heart did not beat at all. I couldn’t breathe.
“Sweet Jesus, they’ll see him,” Katalin whispered.
“Don’t look, don’t look. Their attention is all on us. They won’t be able to see from the stables... Perhaps we block out the view of the others?”
It was a feeble hope. I was terrified he would fall, clinging on with only one hand. I was angry with him for doing it at all, as if it were a game... Surreptitiously, I cast my eyes, not my head, in the direction of the window.
He had moved to the right, balanced on the edge of the sill, his back hugging the wall. I saw why too. There were soldiers in Mattias’s room. József was there also, and Margit. My God, I thought wildly, could he think of no safer place to hide than outside the window where he could be seen by at least five soldiers?
He had seen the soldiers. He saw us too. He looked ridiculously casual in such a dangerous position. He even gave me a slight, resigned shrug; and I saw with blinding, dreadful certainty, that he would be caught in the end. He was only prolonging his freedom minutely by such starts — there was no escape possible for him.
Beyond everyone and everything I have ever known...
Oh God, oh God.
For once, I was glad of the squabble which inevitably broke out between the children. It attracted the soldiers’ interest, kept their gaze low, and it gave us something to do, to rebuke them; but we were afraid to go to them in case that would provide the soldiers with a clearer view of Lajos. Yet our very inaction must have looked suspicious.
It seemed that God had heard my inarticulate prayer, for the soldiers were leaving Mattias’s room. Incredibly, Lajos was going to be able to go back, unseen.
Perhaps he would have done it too, if Elisabeth had not chosen that moment to come outside and walk towards us. Elisabeth was the sort of woman who always drew male eyes to her. There was no question but that the soldiers’ eyes were now on her. I held my breath. Lajos was edging back towards the window; and then the cry I had been dreading went up.
“Christ! Who in hell is that up there? Look, lads!”
Of course they looked. Elisabeth turned too. The soldiers further round, at the stables, came forward to see better. And Lajos, sliding one leg over the sill, paused and glanced at them; and then, for all the world as if he was at a Buda-Pest rally, he lifted one hand and waved to them.
A choke of laughter that was at least half anguish caught in my throat.
“Captain Lázár!” said a quiet, commanding voice behind us.
I jumped, but I had no need to turn to recognize Colonel von Avenheim. I felt despair rise inside me like a tide.
“Why, Karl,” said Elisabeth, flint behind the languor of her charming voice. “How delightful.”
Avenheim spared her — and us — a glance and the briefest of bows. “Forgive my informal manners, ladies. I’m afraid I have a duty to perform before I can give into social pleasures. Where are my other good fools? Inside, I must suppose.” He turned and barked an order at the soldiers, one of whom went running into the house as if all the fiends in hell were after him. Avenheim, avoiding my pleading gaze, returned to the contemplation of Lajos.
“Do you intend to stay there all day?” he enquired, moving nearer to the house.
“No,” Lajos called back, “but I can do, if you’d care to join me. How are you, Colonel?”
“All the better for seeing you again, my dear Lázár. And this time it would appear our roles are reversed.”
“Not quite,” said Lajos. “The Hungarians have never killed their prisoners of war.” I saw Avenheim’s faint twitch of distress. Lajos had always known where to hit for maximum effect, but this time, I doubted its lasting influence.
The Colonel said drily, “His Majesty believes you have other charges to answer to.”
“Poppycock,” said Lajos affably. “His Majesty has never heard of me.”
“I assure you, you are too modest.”
Breathless with fear and helpless fury, I watched Lajos’s glance flicker back to the room behind him. The soldiers were coming back in.
“I’m not known for it,” Lajos said, almost casually drawing his sword.
“Oh Lajos, don’t,” I whispered aloud.
“Don’t be a fool, Lázár,” Avenheim said sharply. “You’ll only be killed.”
“Well, I’ve never cared for the idea of the rope,” said Lajos resignedly; and then he moved with startling suddenness. One moment he was poised, at ease on the windowsill; the next, he had catapulted himself into the room.
I heard the soldiers shouting, steel clashing on steel, disordered crashing, as if furniture were being tumbled over.
“Colonel, stop it,” I pleaded. “You must stop it!”
Avenheim swore under his breath. Still he would not look at me, but he strode off into the inn. The children were clinging to my hands. Margit came precipitately out through the door, accompanied by Zsuzsa and Marta. Katalin put her arms round me, but there was no comfort she could give me now.
It took them nearly ten minutes in the end. He broke through the soldiers in Mattias’s room, and I could have sworn I heard the invalid’s delighted encouragement. From there, the fight moved on to the stairs and into various rooms on both floors, with Lajos not above simply turning tail and fleeing to a better position when he could. Once, I even heard his rare, unmistakable laughter, breathless but genuine.
It was Lieutenant Kohlberg who finally captured him when he was trapped in the kitchen. I saw the sword-point pressed to his throat, saw the soldiers disarm him and Kohlberg push him outside to where the Colonel now waited with me and the other women. At once Lajos’s eyes sought and found mine. They still held the exhilaration of the ridiculous hide-and-seek fighting, but behind that, I saw the love, the grief and the desperation. And yet I could have sworn he was still planning, still calculating.
“So you are Lázár,” Kohlberg was saying, half-contemptuous, half-fascinated. “I must say, you don’t look much.”
“I brush up tolerably well,” Lajos returned. He was still looking at me.
I broke free from Katalin and ran to him. He caught me in his good arm, hugging me briefly to his side. For an instant I felt his lips in my hair, and then he was pushing me away. I found Kohlberg staring at me.
“Didn’t you know?” Avenheim said wryly. “This is Madame Lázár.” It seemed he was preserving my reputation, though such things had no importance now.
“Then,” said Major Conway, emerging from behind with István, “it was his blood on your pillow.”
“Yes,” I said indifferently. My eyes were fixed on Lajos. He was still breathing fast, and his face, I noticed, was unnaturally pale. Blood dripped from a fresh cut on his hand. I wondered if he would faint, and if that would inspire pity in his captors...
“Where are you wound
ed?” Avenheim demanded.
“All over,” said Lajos. His eyes had locked with István’s. I saw the struggle in the older man’s aristocratic face.
With difficulty he said, “Karl. He is with us. He is — family.”
I couldn’t imagine what it cost him to say that, but I saw the flicker of surprise in Lajos’s eyes before he veiled them again. I felt a rush of warmth and admiration for István then, even though I knew from Avenheim’s face that his efforts were futile.
“I can’t take account of families,” Avenheim said harshly.
“Then why don’t you take me, and Mattias too!”
“I have no orders to arrest you.”
“Yet. Only because no one knows I am here.”
“That suits me very well, István. I don’t want you on my conscience too. For God’s sake, bring Mattias down and leave here!”
“I should go, István,” Lajos said quietly. “Take care of Katie...”
István flushed, but not at the insolence of the request, only, I saw with wonder, at his remembrance of the shameful time he had not looked after me.
“No,” I said hoarsely. “I’ll come with you.”
“You can’t,” said István and Avenheim together, but I ignored them, staring only at Lajos. His hand reached up, and at once the soldiers raised their rifles threateningly, but Lajos disregarded them, touching my cheek caressingly, as if he was absorbing the unbearable emotion in me and trying to give me his new calmness.
He said softly, “Sweetheart, this is one time I don’t want you with me. I’ll be better alone, knowing you are safe...”
“I can’t, Lajos...”
At a nod from Avenheim, Kohlberg stood between us; and at that deliberate cruelty, my fury erupted.
“This is ludicrous!” I fumed. “What charge can you possibly have against him that may not be brought against half the male population of Hungary?”
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