The Lady at the River's Edge

19 - Beasts Entrapped

Their first obstacle was the least daunting, but that by no means made it simple. The pounding at the door had hardly abated while they had packed, and now that Erzsebet faced the barrier and the crowd beyond, the clamoring seemed to surge with her attention.

"We cannot let them know we're escaping," said Janos, keeping his voice low. "There would be a full panic."

"Should there not be?" Erzsebet asked. "They too are in danger. Shouldn't they know it?"

He shook his head. "They will know it soon enough, my lady. We want to be far from the tower by then."

"He's right," said Mihaly. "A mob is itself a dangerous thing–we might be separated or trampled."

"Or they might try to bring you to the palatine," Janos added dispassionately. "Purchase their own safety."

Erzsebet scoffed. "You think so little of our castle folk, Janos. They are good people–"

"They are animals, Erzsebet," said her mother. "Cornered, scared animals." After their weighty goodbye, Erzsebet had almost felt as if Zsofia were already gone, left behind. Turning to face her now was a strange little reunion. "They are capable of anything," she went on, "and you must do all you can to keep from scaring them further. Once you are gone, I will send word below that the battle is lost, and they may panic or flee as they see fit." The countess kept an admirably stoic expression, but her ladies in waiting were now pale and bug-eyed. Zsofia seemed not to notice the fear surrounding her, focusing on her children. "Cover those trunks with something, else you'll give yourselves away."

"No, leave them uncovered," Janos argued. He turned to Mihaly, a gleam in his eye. "The palatine has called for a meeting with our lord, to discuss terms. The count sent you here to gather documents, land claims and fealty contracts, to bring him for the negotiations." He gestured first to the trunks, then to Erzsebet who carried them. "The children are coming to witness the agreement, that the peace brokered may last for generations. As for why the countess does not join..." He trailed off, his spun tale having run out of yarn.

All eyes turned to Zsofia, who nodded once, then rose to her feet. "I will come," she announced. "Not to leave the castle, but out of the tower, to make the tale seem whole. Then we shall part once out of sight."

Relief and terror both rose within Erzsebet at the latest ploy. "Where will you go then?" she asked.

"I'll make an honest man of this knight," she said, smiling at Janos. "I'll go to my husband's side–tell him that you are safely out, and ease that burden from his mind."

The count and his men stand against the palatine's forces even now. She was going into the heart of battle, but she looked to be getting ready for an afternoon of parlor games. How much was an act for the sake of her children? What did her mother truly feel–had she ever really known? Only now did Erzsebet wonder, now when it was too late. They hadn't the time to argue, to make new plans; she could not learn that her mother was a person too. Erzsebet only nodded, not trusting her words.

"It's decided," said Janos. "Shall I unbar the door?"

"Just a moment," said the countess. She turned hastily to her ladies, who seemed to flinch back even from this attention, so taut were their nerves. "All you've heard here," the countess commanded, "you will keep to yourselves until we are well and gone. When you hear the tower door shut behind us, you may do as you please. Understood?"

They nodded, wordless. The countess watched them for a moment, as if daring them to break faith, then turned her back upon them. "Alright, Sir Janos. The door."

The knight nodded, went to the heavy wooden bar and began sliding it free. There was a moment of hush from the passage beyond, then the shouts redoubled. Even before the bar was fully aside, Janos began shouting "Back, back!" At last the door was free. He pulled it open and stepped away as the press of bodies spilled forth, some of the foremost nearly falling to the floor, pushed from behind. There was again a wash of countless questions; Janos ignored them, shouting only his planned lines. "The count brokers peace with the palatine!" he called, his voice struggling against the din of desperation. "We go with written deeds for the negotiations! The count's family goes to witness the binding of terms!" He again lifted his sword, not to strike but as a beacon, a sign of his authority. "If you wish for peace this night, you will not impede us! If you hope for an end to the fighting, you will clear the way!"