Lord Conrad’s Lady

by Leo Frankowski

  He had not had the chance to change his clothing for two weeks, and his outer clothes were spattered with so much blood and gore that they were stiff and hard even after we removed the metal from them. We didn’t even consider having them laundered, but sent them out to be burned!

  With one of us at each side of the tub, we washed him down like a little baby, and he loved it. We scrubbed him and rubbed him and even made little baby noises at him. We had to change the water twice before we got him really clean, and he drank an entire pitcher of cold beer while we did it.

  Our love had been through a half-dozen fierce battles and had only one small injury. He didn’t tell us then that this wound had cost him the sight in his right eye.

  We hesitated in giving him a really proper hero’s welcome, for we were both in our sixth month and feared to harm our children. Before he got there, we had debated what to do and had finally called in one of the maids to attend to his needs. The poor girl was disappointed, though, for once we got him out of the tub and dried, he went into his chamber and fell sound asleep on top of the covers. He didn’t wake until noon the next day, and by then I was gone.

  Leaving the maid to attend to Conrad in the unlikely event that he awoke, Cilicia and I dressed in our best and went down to join the army in its celebration. It was important that we make an appearance among the warriors. We first went and sang a mass at the church, as many of the men were doing, though Cilicia sat quietly through it, not being a Christian.

  Then we went to join the party. The ladies had brewed vast quantities of strong beer for the occasion, and it was being consumed with gusto. We were both dying to find out all that happened, and Baron Gregor was most helpful. Baron Ilya was even more SO, for I think that he is the only one of my husband’s barons that does not have even one wife, so we had him to ourselves. As he talked on about the fighting on the riverboats, the battle near Sandomierz, the burning of Cracow, and the murder of the people at East Gate, the full horror and magnitude of the slaughter came to me.

  And also the priceless opportunity that all this represented!

  Think! Almost the entire nobility of the duchies of Little Poland, Sandomierz, and Mazovia had been killed. And not only the fighting men but most of their wives, children, and grandparents had died as well. In all of eastern Poland, there was no one left with the strength to defend the land except my husband, Conrad!

  And there was no one left alive to inherit it all!

  By himself, Conrad had defeated the biggest invasion Christendom had ever suffered, and he had done it almost without losses, except for his riverboats and aircraft. His huge land army was completely intact.

  Those three duchies needed Conrad’s protection, and I intended to see to it that they got it in the traditional manner! The few surviving nobles and freemen of eastern Poland were going to make Conrad their duke. Dukes! With the right persuasion, they’d make him the duke of all three duchies!

  To do that, I was going to have to speak to all of them, and I’d have to do it before Duke Henryk got off his slovenly rump in Legnica! He hadn’t fought for eastern Poland, and I was not about to let him reap the prize of victory.

  First I went to Baron Gregor and told him of my plan. He was very enthusiastic about it and agreed to stop sending messages to Duke Henryk. He felt that it could be disastrous to tell the duke actual lies, but he thought it might be possible to convince his grace to stay in Legnica for another week by slight misdirection. I left that to the good baron and got myself ready to go to Cracow.

  You see, the only way to talk to every one of the scattered people of eastern Poland was to use Conrad’s magazine. For years everyone had relied on it for the news, and it had a perfect reputation for always telling the truth. Yet it hadn’t occurred to anyone to use it to persuade.

  The magazine was printed in the Franciscan monastery in Cracow, and Baron Gregor said that the monastery still stood, even though the buildings around it were in ruins. I intended to be there by dawn.

  My condition was such that I could not safely mount a horse, but Conrad had had a number of railroad carriages built. One of the smallest was light and fast, though it carried only five people. I had two of my maids pack for themselves and me and went to the stables. Luck was still with me, for I found Anna there.

  She was in surprisingly low spirits, and I had to take her to her “spelling board” to find out what the matter was. It took an hour to get the whole story out of her, but it was time well spent.

  Conrad had found another mount like her, but white in color, and this person could not understand Polish as Anna and all her children could. She could only understand the English of the future that my husband came from. Conrad, acting with stupid male practicality, had kept the new mount to himself and had been ignoring Anna just when she felt he needed her most.

  I had long admired Anna, and now she really needed a friend.

  “Oh, you poor baby,” I said to her. “So Conrad went running off to battle, first on a riverboat without you and then on this new white hussy. Shame on him! To do such a thing to his oldest and best friend. As soon as we get back, I’m going to scold him for what he has done to you. But right now there’s something that we must do that is very important for him. I mean, he’s been a bad boy, but we are still his ladies and we must take care of him, yes?”

  She nodded yes.

  “We have to go to Cracow and get the monks there to print a special issue of the magazine. This will tell everybody that Conrad should be the new boss. Can you get us there by morning if you push that new little railroad cart?”

  She nodded yes.

  It took some struggling to get the cart out of the building, for there were no attendants about. Everyone seemed to be at the victory party.

  “My lady, you shouldn’t be doing such heavy work!”

  “Oh!” I was startled and looked to see a young officer standing in the limelight. “You’re Sir Miesko’s son, aren’t you?”

  “I have that honor. Captain Wladyclaw of the scouts, at your service, my countess,” he said, bowing deeply.

  “I’m so glad you’re here, Sir Wladyclaw. Can you get this carriage on the track?”

  “But of course, my lady. Yet what do you want with it?”

  There was nothing to do but take him into my confidence and explain the whole thing to him,

  “Well, if Baron Gregor approves the plan, then so do I,” he said. “Lord Conrad should be a duke, or better yet a king! But I think that he would not approve of his wife going all the way to Cracow unescorted, especially as there could be a Mongol or two still hiding out there. However, my men and I are free at the moment and would be honored to do the task.”

  “But Sir Wladyclaw, that would make you miss the victory celebration. ”

  “It matters little, my lady, since my own men have their wives at the Warrior’s School and not here. I myself am yet a bachelor, and there are six hundred platoons of young men in earnest competition for the regretfully few single ladies at Three Walls. Also, if we do not go to Cracow in your service, we will likely have to spend tomorrow burying dead Mongols, a task worth avoiding if it can be done with honor. So you see that. it is you that do us the favor, Countess. I shall have a lance or two of scouts here before your servants arrive with your luggage. ”

  The captain was always true to his word, and we were on the road in minutes, the captain with ten scouts, all riding Anna’s children, and in Anna’s carriage two of my maids and myself.

  Conrad must have designed the carriage with Anna or one of her identical children in mind. Its wheels were placed under springs, with some sort of oil-filled pot that Conrad called a “shock absorber.” Suffice to say that it ran with remarkable smoothness.

  Conrad called this sort of carriage a “convertible,” since the railroad wheels had very thick flanges that permitted it to be driven on ordinary roads as well as on railroad tracks.

  At the back, there was a sort of lower half of a horse collar that perfec
tly fitted Anna’s neck and shoulders. This let her push the cart without being encumbered with a harness, and the cart was so low to the ground that she could easily look over it. Pushing this collar to the left or right permitted her to steer the cart when it was off the railroad. Also, this arrangement permitted the passengers to talk to the person pushing it, and Anna and I still had a lot to talk over, one girl to another.

  Later in the evening, when conversation was starting to ebb, Sir Wladyclaw rode to the side of the carriage and begged leave to introduce his men to me. I was of course delighted to meet them, for besides its being good politics, I enjoy meeting with young people, and these were all very young men.

  It was rather like holding court, save that we were all moving down the railroad at a pace that no ordinary horse could keep up for long. They couldn’t all line up at once, since some must needs ride “point” and others “flank.” I resolved to have Conrad explain these strange terms to me, but just then I did not want to expose my ignorance to Sir Wladyclaw.

  Somehow it was necessary to shift men to and from various positions before each could meet me, but this had the advantage of letting me speak at length with each of them. Or rather I should say shout, for our speed was such that the wind was strong.

  It also allowed my maids to size them up at length and to speak of them in a most immodest manner when we were between visitors. It has always been my custom to let my servants speak as they will when we are alone, for one learns much from one’s subordinates. The girls were quite pleased with Sir Wladyclaw’s men, and for good reason. Not only was each a fine specimen of young manhood, but each was also from a very good family. I found that while I did not know any of them personally, I knew friends and relatives of every one of them. We spent some pleasant hours discussing mutual friends. When the lengthy introductions were at last over and Sir Wladyclaw was again at my side, I spoke to him of this.

  “But of course, my lady. A scout must be a well-traveled man or he will get lost trying to find the enemy or even his own army. The work. is vigorous, so he cannot be too old. He must be a born horseman who can spend days in the saddle without tiring. That was necessary enough in the days of ordinary horses, but in these modem times, why, a Big Person can run for days without stopping. Who else but a nobleman could have this experience? Oh, think not that I’m being snobbish! Both of my own parents were born commoners, for my father was knighted on the battlefield for valor, not because his father was noble. But the fact remains that I got my first horse when I was four years old, and I made my first visit to Cracow when I was six! A commoner simply doesn’t get the benefit of the sort of upbringing that I got. And some of my men were better off than I, since their fathers, grandfathers, and uncles were all widely traveled horsemen. What I am trying to say is that when we formed up the scouts, we knew that we would have very few Big People for the first few years. We had to get the absolute most we could get out of them. That meant that we needed the best horsemen we could possibly find, and I think we did a very good job.”

  “You did indeed, Sir Wladyclaw,” I said. “But you said that there would be very few Big People for the first few years. There are less than three dozen of them at present. Surely they can never be numerous!”

  “Though it pains me to disagree with so gracious a lady, I fear I must do so. There are but two dozen and ten adult Big People now, counting the new white one that Lord Conrad found, but there are also two gross, six dozen, and four young ones growing up right now. Further, in the next month or two, nine dozen and eight fillies will be born, assuming that we haven’t lost any Big People in the war. A few are missing, you know. In two years’ time we shall be able to equip an entire company with Big People, and in twenty years they could well outnumber all the Little People in the rest of the army!”

  “Then you can expect considerable promotion as your little command expands,” I said.

  “That is my hope, my lady. Indeed, I voluntarily took two demotions in grade in order to get this post, and I don’t think I’ll regret that choice in the long run. Also, it means that the men under me will be promoted as well, and I have chosen them for command ability as well as for horsemanship. ”

  “But you haven’t explained why they’re all so handsome!” one of my maids said.

  “But they’re not,” Sir Wladyclaw said. “You only think that they are because of your essential lechery, my young lady, and I love you for it!”

  “Well, you haven’t done that yet”‘

  “Patience, my love. There was a slight matter of an army to train and a Mongol horde to vanquish first. But now that these trivial chores seem to be accomplished, I shall devote myself to honoring my noble mother’s dearest hope, the getting for her of some grandchildren. It is my earnest intent to spend as much of my time as my lords permit in the next few years in the granting of my dear mother’s wishes. The assistance of healthy young ladies is earnestly sought!”

  “I don’t know if you’re serious or not,” she said.

  “Alas, it is a thing known to but a few. But we shall study the matter with deliberation as soon as my lords and your lady permit.”

  And with that, our gallant Sir Wladyclaw rode out to inspect his men. The girls were both giggling at the exchange, and in truth I was smiling about it, too, me, a pregnant woman of thirty.

  To be sure, much of what he had said was surely nonsense, but he had said it with a smile on his lips and a twinkle in his eye. More importantly, he was fit and lean and strong. He was clean and polished and remarkably sexy. He had a good mind, a decent education, and a proper attitude on things. Indeed, he was a young man who would go far in this world.

  Chapter Eleven

  At first light we went through the bloodstained gates of Cracow, which Conrad and Sir Wladyclaw had completely stuffed with dead Mongols, if the tale could be believed. We could have found rooms at Wawel Castle, but it was not convenient to the Franciscan monastery, and I was beginning to find walking difficult. Also, there is a great deal of time-consuming ceremony at the castle, and I did not want to waste a moment on anything but the task at hand. Thus, we proceeded directly to the Pink Dragon Inn and obtained lodging there. Oh, the innkeeper said that the place was completely filled with people whose houses had been burned, but on realizing who I was, he quickly agreed to clear the rooms necessary for my party.

  We ate a remarkably spare meal, even for Lent. There was only oatmeal porridge and new beer, for the inn’s huge cellars had been completely cleared to provide a quick lunch for a twelfth of my husband’s army. Even rare wines that had been aging in the bottle for three entire years had been given away, for Count Conrad had said “Empty out your entire cellar,” and the innkeeper had taken him exactly at his word. A sad loss.

  We then went to the monastery, arriving as the monks were chanting Prime. Soon the new abbot was with me, for the old one had died in the fighting. This new man, Father Stanislaw, had been in charge of the print shop, and he, too, fell completely in with my plan. There was much anger in Cracow at Duke Henryk, for that nobleman had once sworn to defend the city but now had failed to do so, or even to come when the city was under siege.

  To be fair to Henryk, the nobles of Cracow had so disagreed with his battle plan that they had left him as a group and gone to fight the Mongols under the leadership of Duke Boleslaw of Mazovia. But the nobles who had done so were now almost all dead, and the commoners have a short memory about such things. The abbot said that to a man, the people of Cracow wanted Conrad for their duke.

  The abbot had supplies on hand for a “print run” of twelve thousand copies and set aside all other work to get it done.

  Together we talked of an entire issue that treated nothing but the recent war with the Mongols, as opposed to the usual format, where there were a dozen short articles on everything from current events to cooking recipes. We would have a dozen or so witnesses of the various battles each tell their story, stressing how it was that Count Conrad had saved all of Christendom.
Near the end there would be an article stressing the danger that eastern Poland was in without a properly confirmed duke to defend it. Then there would be an appeal, hopefully by Bishop Ignacy, for all the freemen and nobles of the duchies of Little Poland, Sandomierz, and Mazovia to meet and elect Conrad duke. Or maybe even king.

  The story of the battles had yet to be written, and several monks were put with Sir Wladyclaw and his men to get some of it down on paper. I left to secure Bishop Ignacy to our cause, but as I boarded my carriage, word came that a riverboat had come to port. I had Anna take me there immediately for fear that the boat might leave before I had a chance to talk to the captain. The magazine would have to be delivered, after all.

  The boat proved to be the Enterprise, with Baron Tadaos himself commanding. This was a stroke of luck, for he commanded all the boats on the river and knew more of the river battle than did any other man.

  The baron gave me a warm greeting, and he, too, liked my plan of making Conrad Duke of eastern Poland. He promised all assistance in delivering the news but would not take the time to write the story of the river battle. His duty, he said, was to patrol the rivers and search for his several missing boats. However, he lent me Baron Piotr for the task of writing the history of the Battle for the Vistula, as he called it, and I had to agree that this intelligent young man was certainly up to the task.

  As I drove Baron Piotr to the monastery, I said, “You realize that it is important that as much credit as possible must go to Count Conrad himself. You know that if Conrad himself were writing the tale, he would praise everyone but himself, but we must see to it that the truth is told.”

  “My lady, the only way that Conrad could have done more than he did would have been for him to have killed every single Mongol with his own sword! I shall praise him to the stars, not because you have asked but because he deserves it,” the baron said.