The Lady at the River's Edge

11 - Cheer and Sorrow

The murmuring of the crowd could be heard even in the armory. The sound was nothing like it was on festival days and tourneys, tainted now as it was with uncertainty. How much the castle folk and the commoners knew was still unclear–rumor spread swiftly, and with little regard for truth–but few were at ease out there.

One of the tranquil few, at least by appearance, was Janos–a regular fact which became ever more jarring to witness as his situation worsened. While his squire helped fit his padded helm atop his mail coif, the knight spoke comfortably with her father–he was by no means flippant or unserious, but neither did he seem much concerned. Erzsebet wanted nothing more than to shake some sense into him.

"If at any point you fear for your life," her father was saying, "do not hesitate to call surrender. Whatever punishment you may suffer for these crimes, they would be preferable to death."

"Certainly, my lord." He adjusted his helm as his squire stepped away. After a nod from the knight, the boy scurried out of the armory, presumably to take his place near where the battle would be. Only the three of them remained: Janos testing the straps of his shield, the count wringing his hands, and her.

"We don't know the punishment?" Erzsebet asked. "There is no... precedent, or guideline?"

Her father shook his head. "It is left to the judge's discretion. How the trial goes plays a part as well–if it seems God's will is hard set against the accused, then his punishment may be that much more severe."

"But against Benedek, there's little chance he'll lose at all, much less dramatically," she said, willing truth into her words. "I mean for God's sake, he only has use of one eye!"

"Now is not the time to be taking the Lord's name in vain, my flower," said her father. He took a breath, glanced over towards the table where servants had left wine and sweetmeats, then turned back. "The odds are certainly in our favor, but nothing is sure in battle. The Lord's touch would be most keenly felt if some ill chance saw Janos defeated."

All this talk of God was beginning to wear on her, though she took care not to venture too near to blasphemy. "You keep talking as if God might choose to punish Janos. Why would He? We know the truth of it, we know he's innocent! Why would God see him defeated?"

"We cannot know His will–we can only have faith in His plan, however it may unfold."

That answer irked her, weak as it was. It troubled her to see her father so subservient and impotent–she could hear the priest's rebuke in her mind, intoning that God was the ultimate authority before whom all must abase themselves. Heretical though it may have been, she could not help but think that if God would see Janos punished when he was so clearly innocent, His justice was simply not worth honoring.

Of course she could give no voice to these thoughts, and so only nodded meekly and turned to Janos. "How do you feel? Are you ready for the trial?"

He gave a smile clearly meant to reassure her. "Fit as ever. As you say, my lady: barring divine intervention, I see little chance of my defeat."

"Do not tempt fate with your hubris," her father reproached, though he sounded more fearful than corrective. Still he wrung his hands; at last Erzsebet realized that he had something to say, something he would much rather leave unsaid.

Just as she took notice, it seemed Janos too became aware. "Is there anything else on your mind, my lord?" the knight prompted.

"Ah, well, hm," he mumbled, then let out a gusting breath. "It is only a fear of mine–not fair to subject you to it, not now, as you've your own worries."

"Your fears are mine as well, my lord." The knight straightened his posture, then inclined his head. "In all things, I serve you."

Only her father seemed capable of earning such sincerity from Janos–all else was seen through laughing eyes, a smirk always hidden in tone. While Erzsebet would have liked to receive similar treatment, she still found it touching to see. Perhaps, like all things of value, such respect needed to be earned.