The Lady at the River's Edge

9 - The Scales

They traveled as a pack, gaining the base comfort of nearness and numbers. The count led, his wife following closely, with Erzsebet and Janos close behind. Even Mihaly had been ordered to come along; he alone bore a mail coat and arms, and young though he was, the faint padded jingling of armor was a further low comfort.

"We mustn't give any hint that we know of the soldiers across the river," her father whispered as they walked. "As long as he thinks he has the upper hand, the palatine will not feel rushed to act. Time is our greatest ally now."

Erzsebet bit back a retort, knowing what she did of the palatine's patience. This thread seemed to be her father's main lifeline, and to cut it would be to cut away all hope. Instead, she merely nodded–keeping the palatine in ignorance could only serve their interests, whether it delayed him or not.

Early along the winding path to the guest quarters, her father sent a servant sprinting to fetch the chamberlain, Matyas, who intercepted their path not three minutes later, barely winded. The count gave the chamberlain the missive he had hastily written before leaving his chambers, the letter to the king upon which all their lives depended. "Entrust this to our swiftest messenger," he commanded in a low tone. "This is to reach the King as quickly as possible. Swiftest and most cautious–there may be men looking to intercept such a message."

Alarm shot through Matyas' face. "Men–who would dare interfere with a count's communications with the crown?"

Peter shook his head, only saying, "Have him take the western road. Under no circumstances can he pass through Bacs."

The last had been stated with particular gravitas, and the implication reached the chamberlain with a widening of his eyes, then a setting of his jaw. "Yes, my lord." He bowed and left at a jog towards the forecourt.

Further on, nearing the guest wing of the castle, her mother fell back a stride to walk next to Erzsebet. "It is not too late for an apology," she said.

Incredulity strained her bearing, and for once Erzsebet had no qualms airing her feelings without yoke before her mother. "An apology now, when they mean to attack? They want our blood, and you think I should apologize for a stupid game?"

"Enough!" her mother hissed with a new vehemence. This was not anger at being disrespected or defied; this was desperation. "Enough! Stop thinking about what is fair, about what you are owed! You need to understand that words are tools, Erzsebet. The palatine is using his words to build an edifice, a statue to justify and glorify his coming deeds. It does not matter that his tools are false, if what he builds stands tall enough to sway those around him. By apologizing, you can chip away at his construction–we must use every tool, take every opportunity we have to diminish his narrative. He will claim his son was mistreated; if we publicly treat him with the highest of courtesy, whether it is justified or not, his claims will ring false."

Erzsebet's first instinct was to grimace. "Does the truth not matter, then?" she asked. "Or fairness?"

"They matter," her mother allowed, "but our lives matter more." Content with the last word, she hurried to rejoin her husband, leaving Erzsebet to wade through the trailing thoughts in her mother's wake. Even as the door to the palatine's chambers came into sight, flanked by two grim-faced guards, she had yet to find any sure answer, any solid ground for her to feel steady upon. All was loose silt beneath her struggling limbs, and the current pulled on and on.

"The palatine is expecting you, Lord Count," said one of the guardsmen. "I have been given orders to permit you, your family, and the castle knight Janos, but no other. Your man will have to wait here in the hall."

Her father turned to look back at Mihaly, clearly uneasy. Could they even make such a demand of him, here in his own castle? And if they could not, would it be wise for her father to assert his authority? He glanced at his wife, and she gave the slightest twitch of a nod, but that was enough. "Thank you for your escort, Mihaly. Stay here until you are called upon."