An Embarrassment of Riches (45 page)

Rakoczy raised his fine brows. “Did you see what the Episcopus made of her May Festival?”

Because he was worried, Hruther exclaimed, “That one!”

“He enjoys having power over the Konige,” said Rakoczy.

“That he does. He enjoys having power over everyone.” Hruther turned to Rakoczy, wanting to shift the subject. “Some of the servants are complaining about the taste of the well-water again.”

“Let them complain—at least they will not spend the spring infested with the animacules that bring flux and fever,” said Rakoczy, recalling the time, long ago in Egypt, when he learned to treat well-water to prevent flux in spring.

“They might be more inclined to accept what you add to the water if they thought it held off demons and suppressed miasmas.” Hruther waited a long moment before he asked, “Have you decided how we are to leave, my master?”

“Not yet,” Rakoczy admitted. “Since nothing has changed, I am still powerless to act without endangering my fief. I cannot put Santu-Germaniu at risk. Konig Bela has not yet relented toward me in any way; he has not looked kindly on anything I do here. That is what causes me to hesitate.”

“Is it possible that Konig Bela might have already ordered his troops into your fief? You haven’t had a report from Balint in some time, and Bela’s heir might be troublesome again.” He saw Rakoczy nod. “Do you think that Istvan could have done something that made Konig Bela to forget his pledge to you when he sent you into exile here?”

“It would be unlike Konig Bela to act against his promise—one made in writing and witnessed by his Confessor,” said Rakoczy but with an expression in his eyes that ran counter to his words.

“Konig Bela has had to fight Otakar to the west. Who knows what his heir has done to the east? Mightn’t that give Bela the excuse he seeks to claim Santu-Germaniu, to hold Istvan in check? Is there any way you can discover what has transpired at your estates?”

“Not that is beyond suborning,” said Rakoczy.

Hruther coughed. “One day you will have to deal with him, I suppose—Istvan.”

“Perhaps,” said Rakoczy.

Hruther brought his thoughts under control and gave Rakoczy his full attention. “What is it? What makes you so indefinite?”

Rakoczy shook his head. “I do not have all the information I need, and so long as Konig Bela reigns, there is little I can do that will not bring misfortune to me and my vassals. Istvan has a hormetic character, and will not readily abandon his ambitions, not with his father growing old.” He began to pace.

“Do you think you could enlist the enemies of Hungary to help you?” Hruther asked. “There are other fiefholders who are in a similar position to yours—”

Rakoczy shook his head. “No; that game is too mercurial for me; too many allies could become foes in an instant, leaving me and Santu-Germaniu to carry the burden of treason.”

“Have you no other means of preserving Santu-Germaniu beyond this … this exile?” He permitted his frustration to show and offered no apology for it.

“If we could provide an acceptable reason for leaving, then I would use it, and go far from Hungary and Bohemia, but Konig Bela wants me here, and the Konige is pleased with my service to her, so if we leave, we will be doubly hunted.”

“That’s happened before,” said Hruther. “Think what we’ve discussed before and consider if it might be worth addressing Konig Bela directly.”

“Not with Santu-Germaniu in the balance,” said Rakoczy. “That is what troubles me more than—” He broke off as there was a knock on the door. “Yes?” he called in Bohemian.

“It is Barnon, Comes. Counselor Smiricti is below, wanting to talk with you. He tells me it is urgent.”

There was a hesitance in his voice that Rakoczy found puzzling, but which he attributed to his own sense of oppression. “Ask him to wait for me in the larger withdrawing room. I will be with him directly.” He turned to Hruther. “I will do what I can to find out if he has information about Estephe. Then we can decide how to go on.”

“Yes, my master,” said Hruther, his faded-blue eyes clouded with dubiety.

Rakoczy nodded, then went toward the door. “Do you think I should change, or will this do to receive him?”

“Tell him you are making more jewels and he wouldn’t mind if you wore sacking,” said Hruther drily.

“Very likely,” said Rakoczy, and let himself out of the workroom. He went down the corridor to the stairs, doing his utmost to calm his thoughts; if Counselor Smiricti had come unannounced, the reason, he told himself, need not be minatory; there were many reasons the Counselor might call at Mansion Belcrady. He descended to the main hall, where the glaziers were busy putting the stained-glass windows into place and adding inner sills to help hold them. He nodded to the men as he crossed the room to where Counselor Smiricti waited.

It being now officially spring, the Counselor was wearing a tan huch of linen twill lined in samite, over a chainse of pale linen; his braccae were of a wool-and-linen blend the color of iris, and his hat was like a soft mushroom in shape and hue. He caught sight of Rakoczy approaching and got to his feet. “Comes. I thank you for seeing me.”

“It is I who should thank you, I suspect,” said Rakoczy, his manner somber and cordial at once. “I trust Barnon has sent for a welcome-tray for you.”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Smiricti, dismissing this courtesy with a wave of his hand.

“But it should,” said Rakoczy, and was about to summon Barnon to ask why the welcome-tray had not been presented when Smiricti went on.

“The City Guards found your man Estephe this morning. He was unconscious so they took him to the monks at Sante-Natike, where he regained consciousness a short while ago. When the monks learned whose servant he is, they sent word to the Council Court, and I have come to you to tell you of his … misfortune.” He clasped his hands together nervously, not meeting Rakoczy’s steady gaze. “He is badly bruised and the monks say his shoulder is broken, and that he has a damaged head.”

Rakoczy heard him out in silence, and when Smiricti stopped talking, he inquired, “Did he say who had hurt him, or why?”

“He said only that he remembers meeting some men near Mansion Belcrady who invited him to come with them to the Hive and Bees for dicing and drink. He decided to go with them because they seemed like pleasant fellows. Beyond that he knows nothing. He has become confused.” Smiricti sat down as if having imparted this news had left him enervated.

“Did you speak to Estephe?” Rakoczy asked.

“No; the monks did and two of them came to inform me of what they had learned. They are praying for him, that he may recover his wits.” He paused. “If Estephe had any money with him when he left here, it’s gone now.”

“Hardly surprising,” said Rakoczy with a fatalistic nod. “Is Estephe still at Sante-Natike?”

“As far as I know. They said nothing about allowing him to depart in his present condition.” He coughed; it was a nervous sound. “The monks said he was in no condition to walk, being unable to keep his balance when he is on his feet.” Then he cocked his chin toward the main hall. “Your windows are finally being installed, I see. Very grand.”

“Yes. I will have clear glass put in upstairs.” Rakoczy made a puzzled frown. “Where did the City Guards find Estephe: do you know?”

“Near the Sante-Agnethe fountain, or so the monks told me.” Smiricti tugged at the lobe of his large ear. “I haven’t spoken with the Guards who came upon him, but I will, if it would gratify you.”

“I would like to speak to Estephe myself,” said Rakoczy, his face unreadable.

“I will ask if the monks will permit it,” said Smiricti.

“Why would they not?” Rakoczy concealed the rush of dismay that he felt.

“You are a foreigner, and … and the Episcopus might not be in favor of it.” He looked around uneasily. “The Episcopus is demanding that he be given the right to keep watch on your household. He believes that what has happened to Estephe is proof that you have sinned against Bohemia.”

“Sinned against Bohemia,” Rakoczy echoed, more bemused than wary. “In what way have I done that: do you know?”

“The Episcopus hasn’t been more precise in his observations—it is sufficient that he knows you have enemies, and he is using that knowledge to his advantage. He has declared that as an exile, you must be watched closely.” He cleared his throat and spat. “He has wanted to place his men in your household since your arrival was announced in the Konige’s Court, but hasn’t been permitted to, officially.” He lowered his head, and stared at the floor. “Against our agreement, he has placed a spy—or perhaps more than one—among your servants.”

Rakoczy felt a kind of apprehension come over him. “What were the terms of your agreement with the Episcopus, Counselor, that you and the Episcopus negotiated?”

“It was not the Council that decided the matter: the Konige had said that it would be the Council who would keep watch on you, not the Church. You are not here as a suspected heretic, but—as you say—an exile, which places you under the Konige’s Court’s purview. Therefore, she has appointed the Counselors to observe you. In the discharge of her orders, we were allowed to place two spies in your household—”

Rakoczy nodded grimly; the only thing that surprised him about this was that the Counselor admitted it. “Will you tell me which two?”

Smiricti went on as if he had not heard the question. “The Episcopus was not supposed to have any, but he is the Episcopus, and two days ago he boasted that his spy in your household has told him more than my two have told me, and he is sure that what his spy has said proves that he is right to suspect you of nefarious intent, for his spies always report what he wishes to hear. He claims that, if she knew what he has discovered about you, the Konige would not refuse him the right to be the one to observe you, and so he has acted on his own authority, to spare her the necessity. He claims this shows his devotion to Bohemia’s interests.” He finally looked directly at Rakoczy. “It were better for you, Comes, to have the Council watch you than the Episcopus.”

“Probably so,” Rakoczy conceded, wondering who among his household was listening.

Smiricti cleared his throat and straightened up. “My spies have defended you often, spoken well of you, and sworn that you are no follower of the Devil, nor are you an ally of the Konig’s enemies. You have earned their good opinion in spite of being a foreigner. They have been ready to take your part in our investigation; they continue to counter the suspicions of the Episcopus.” His voice dropped to a near-whisper, as if he feared he was overheard. “The spies said you have been true to the terms of your exile; even your manservant has been estimable in this regard. They say he does not work against your vow in any way.”

Rakoczy smiled wryly, briefly. “He is an excellent—”

“That is what we all hope of our servants, and what we often believe to our folly,” Smiricti said, waving his hand in dismissal. “Yet we often see that they are suborned, that they betray us for their own gain, that they are ready to place their advancement in the hands of others. If your man has never done these things, you have a most rare man in him.”

“So I think,” said Rakoczy, again wondering why the welcome-tray had still not been offered to his guest. He went to the door and looked out into the main hall, where the glaziers stood on ladders, fitting in the fourth window and putting shutter-levers into place; neither Barnon nor Pacar was anywhere in the large room.

“You needn’t trouble yourself, Comes,” said Smiricti.

“You are a guest in my manse, Counselor,” Rakoczy reminded him, offering him a slight nod.

“Still, I came unannounced,” said Smiricti as if making excuses for his servants. “You have no need to—”

“You say your men in my household speak well of me—then let me requite their good opinion of me.”

Smiricti allowed himself to be persuaded. “I will accept your hospitality with gratitude.”

Rakoczy clapped his hands loudly. “Barnon!” he called out. “Barnon! Where are you?”

“He isn’t in the manse,” said Smiricti, sounding defeated. “He has left Mansion Belcrady.”

“Why is that?” Rakoczy asked.

“Because I sent him away, as soon as he informed you of my arrival. The Episcopus ordered me to do so.” A little color rose in his face. “He is my man, you see, and the Episcopus wants him out of here, so that others of his own choosing may take his place.”

“Then Barnon is one of the two?” Rakoczy shook his head, wondering why he had not seen Barnon’s divided loyalty.

“Yes. I had hoped to keep that from you for a little longer.” He offered a jittery smile. “You will have to assign another to his duties.”

“Someone who may or may not be your man, as well? Or shall I assume that anyone I hire is in the pay of others?” Rakoczy made a gesture of apology and stepped out into the main hall. “Hruther! Have a welcome-tray prepared for the Counselor!” Then he returned to the withdrawing room, certain that Hruther would attend to this courtesy.

Now Smiricti was truly chagrined. “Comes, it isn’t necessary.”

Rakoczy held up his small hand. “This is not just for you; I will not have my servants say I neglected a guest.”

“Even one who has abused you as I have done?” Smiricti looked truly shocked.

Rakoczy sighed, a short, hard sound. “You forget that exiles cannot afford to ignore the customs of their hosts. Servants talk, whether by assignment or by inclination, and what they say, I need hardly remind you, is often noted by others. You are a man of position and authority in Praha and you deserve to be received well, as all the household knows: you will be, for my sake as well as yours.” He had a brief, uncomfortable recollection of his time in Tunis, before he was seized and made a slave to the Emir’s son.