The Lady at the River's Edge

35 - A Better Way

Alas, the men were not, in fact, drawing up a battle plan. Coming out from the tent's mouth Bolya was nowhere to be seen, nor were any other pagans. Facan and Janos at least were in sight, standing further down along the path towards the stream. The older man loomed over the knight, talking down to him, berating him with the added prodding of an accusing finger.

"What kind of knight would sell his only head protection?" he demanded, staring balefully at the younger man. "Sooner your shirt than your helm–but sooner nothing than either!"

For once, Janos seemed genuinely affected by the reproval. "We needed food," he argued back, though he looked small and slight beneath the taller man's outrage. "The shirt is worth much more than the coif, anyway–"

"You are in the mountains!" Facan roared, incredulous and scathing. "How could you want for food?"

Janos flinched, his look bitter. "I have no bow, no hawk, and a broken arm. I foraged what I could, but–"

"It takes but one arm to tie a snare, one arm to fish! Even if you had only forage, these mountains are a trove–and your stores ran out after a mere five days?"

"Do not be so hard on him, Facan," said Erzsebet, marching up to the men with Ilona holding Antal at her side. "He worked tirelessly, and despite his arm, he was far more productive than I."

The falconer turned at her voice and bowed low, but he wouldn't let Janos off that easily. "It is his duty to protect you, my lady, which includes providing for you. That you needed to do any work at all is an indictment against him." He shot a dark glance at Janos. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. It was his foolishness, after all, that saw this tragedy unfold."

Erzsebet gasped at the audacity. "You go too far, mews-master. Only the palatine and his family are to blame. What could Janos have done?" She looked at the knight, wondering why he said nothing to defend himself, and was troubled to find that his gaze was downcast, penitent.

"With all respect my lady," said Facan, "there is much he could have done. Foremost, he should have admitted his guilt in the charges brought against him."

"What–but those charges were nonsense! Utter nonsense! Why should he have submitted himself to the palatine's cruelty?"

Facan shook his head, looking rather paternal, as if he were disappointed that she too might be so foolish. "The charges were of Threat and Assault. Janos, did you not lay hands upon the son of the palatine?" This he asked without even looking over at the man.

"I did," the knight confessed, still looking distraught.

"And did your words and countenance not imply a threat against him, should he not compose himself?"

Janos sighed. "That was my intent."

Facan spread his hands, as if this alone proved his bile justified.

"But it was all for me," Erzsebet argued. "Everything he did was to protect me. For that he should be hanged at the palatine's gallows? That's absurd!"

"It's true!" Ilona peeped at her side. "Benedek was a bad man, he didn't act at all like a prince. Janos did the right thing."

"He certainly wasn't acting princely, I'll grant you that," said Facan, smiling indulgently at the girl. "Though by all accounts, the true prince would have hardly acted any better. He turned back to Erzsebet. "That said, Janos wouldn't have gone to the gallows. It was your father's castle where the crimes were committed; it would fall to him to decide the punishment. Given the circumstances, I can't imagine it would've been anything worse than a fine."

This struck Erzsebet to silence. Had she known that? Had she known her father would have set the punishment? She must have, that was how it always was–in his castle, the count is sovereign. She knew it–why had she never thought about it? She had been so caught up in the grave injustice of it, she never stopped to consider what the cost would be if Janos simply submitted.