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Chapter 2

The morning passed in a blur of meetings with local merchants and nearby noble families to discuss the expected harvest, village politics, and the rumblings of malcontent in the closest of those villages.  Erzsebet directed the influential men who required her approval and political and financial backing while Kata directed the silent staff of the castle.  Kata was familiar with the rhythm of days such as these, and knew that Erzsebet’s full focus would be on managing her vast amounts of wealth and land, as well as maintaining steady shipments of supplies to the front lines of the war.  

Erzsebet had attended the best schools in Budapest and not only spoke and read her native Hungarian, but Latin, German, and Greek. Then men that did business with Erzsebet were barely able to read their own languages, and they would have much rather seen Ferenc appoint an advisor to handle affairs in his absence.  Ferenc, who himself was barely literate, had made a very public decree that Erzsebet was to handle all domestic affairs, even when he was present.

Kata took her place on a hard stool by the door, pushed against the wall and opposite Erzsebet’s meeting table.  She was expected to be nearby, in case Erzsebet needed her, at all times, but as Erzsebet was usually extremely focused on the tasks before her, Kata had time to speak quietly on the other side of the door with servants.  Erzsebet had very hesitantly agreed to allow these meetings, provided Kata was gone only a few moments and their voices were inaudible to anyone else.

Sometimes a moment was barely enough time for even a glance, so over the years Kata had developed a communication method among the servants that only required subtle hand and facial movements.  This worked for most interactions, unless more detailed information needed to be relayed.  In those cases, Kata would write out a simple message in Slovak, the local language. She learned how to speak it when she found herself unable to effectively caution young girls from the nearby village of Visnove, and had picked up enough that they now understood her broken sentences.  There were a few older servants that were able to just barely read, and they helped teach Kata basic words and phrases over candlelit lesson tables.   She would scrawl out fractured messages, pass them on towards those who could read, and they in turn would share with the others, usually with fairly accurate interpretations. Erzsebet had never cared to learn the peasants’ language and regarded it just as she did the babbling of babies.

“My Lady, the Judge Royal, your brother, has made it clear that they need more men and they are demanding OURS.   This is madness!  Have we not already given a generation of our men to the front?  Only half of them have come home, and they come to us broken and slow.  Who is to work the field?  Who do you intend to guard you and your family!?”  A large set man with sweat breaking on his brow was indignant.

Erzsebet shrugged.  “Jan, you worry too much.  Do we not have children?  Those that are too young to go to the front are surely old enough to work your fields. But, I will send word to Stephen that Visnove and the surrounding regions have already been stretched too thin.  We will send who we can, but obviously my brother is not expecting his younger sister to face hardship.” She let out a sharp laugh.

Jan Toth was not a man accustomed to being ignored, and he typically commanded attention in every room he entered.  His family had served the Nadasdy family at Cachtice Castle for generations, a relationship that had been built on hundreds of years of collaboration and mutual respect, or at least the illusion of it.  Jan had never left the lowlands and only knew of the high courts from what he was told by the luxuriously dressed men and women that would come to pay respects to the Countess.  He now shifted his considerable bulk in the ornate carved wood chair and suppressed the indignity of her disregard.   He’d been at the grand wedding of Erzsebet and Ferenc, enthusiastic about the marriage at the time he had given the newlyweds a wealth of blessings and pledged his continued loyalty to the Nadasdy Family of Cachtice.  But Erzsebet had kept her powerful family name, and Ferenc had deferred all local business to Erzsebet, and Jan now found himself at the mercy of this small shrew twenty years his junior.  

“With all due respect, Countess, I just don’t know that we can expect our children to yield the same work that our young men do.”  Jan knew he was crossing a dangerous line, but the harvests were coming and he wasn’t going to rely on eight year olds to keep the coffers full.

“Respect?”  Erzsebet narrowed her black eyes.  “Master Toth I’m concerned that you don’t quite understand fully the meaning of the word.”  Erzsebet stood up from the table and moved towards Jan.  She stood not much taller than when she sat, but her small frame clearly intimidated Jan as she moved directly behind the nobleman.  “Please, tell me what you think the solution to assisting my husband, your lord, at the war front should be.  You clearly have an alternate plan already worked out, otherwise why would you dare to question my decision?  So, Master Toth, let’s hear it.  How would you have me respond to my brother?”

The other men at the table shifted uncomfortably in their seats.  They may have had the same thoughts as Jan Toth, but they also had the intelligence to keep their mouths shut.   Among them was Abbot Horvath, a kind faced old man who oversaw the monastery in Lieskove for decades.     He too had been at the wedding, and a fixture of the Bathory-Nadasdy family life.  He had held each surviving child of Ferenc and Erzsebet and blessed them with long and healthy lives.  He was less intimidated by Erzsebet than the other men, partially because he felt he understood her ferocity more so than the soft, pampered men that now surrounded her.  He also understood that there were certain times it was best to remain silent, particularly when she had the severe expression on her face that was currently being directed at Master Toth.

“My lady, if I may add my own thoughts on the matter.”  The speaker was Martin Nagy, son-in-law and spokesperson for the less business minded Duke Balaz, and had recently become a permanent fixture at the Countess’ table after his marriage to the Duke’s eldest daughter.  “If you intend to tell your brother, the Honorable Judge Royal Bathory, that we simply do not have the resources to supply additional men at the front, why not wait to see if we need send anyone at all.”  He had Erzsebet’s attention. “Then if we still must send our men, we may be able to harvest early with the additional time before they leave.”

The Countess mulled this over for a moment.  Martin knew that in order to sway Erzsebet she had to be convinced that her actions would somehow benefit her directly.  His suggestion meant that she could have an expedited harvest, maintain her good standing with the king, and contribute to her husband’s war.  Martin had seen his marriage to the Duke as an easy path to gaining the ear of the most powerful woman, and truly the most powerful person, in the entire region.   Taking over the role from his father-in-law was the plan from the beginning of his courtship with Kveta, the Duke’s daughter, and now years later he was right where he wanted to be, for now.

“Very well.  I’ll have word sent to Stephen that we cannot afford more men at this time.  We’ve sacrificed much as it is, and I’ll be certain to remind him of that.”  Erzsebet looked around the table, her eyes lingering on the red faced Jan struggling to maintain his composure.  She smirked and sat back in her oversized chair. “Anything else on that topic or shall we move on?”    

At mid-day, after a morning of continued tensions and debates, Reka brought in the goulash that had permeated the kitchen earlier that morning. It had been simmering all day in paprika and garlic and the smell immediately reminded Kata that she hadn’t eaten since yesterday’s mid-day meal.  Fortunately, her dear friend had brought an extra bowl with a serving for Kata along with a stale piece of rye bread.

Kata ate on her stool by the door while Erzsebet continued to hold court while she and her table of lesser men all slurped up their stew.  Despite the hungry pit in her stomach, Kata forced herself to eat slowly to keep from making herself sick.  Each bite soaked her tongue in comfort and filled her stomach, dulling the ache that been there.  She had not slept last night, and the warmth and weight of the stew in her belly was slowing her mind and making her limbs heavy.  She felt her eyes closing, the painful throb of exhaustion in her lids weighing them down, and let the weight of her arms relax off her shoulders as her head began to dip forward.

She quickly snapped her head back, praying that Erzsebet hadn’t noticed.  If the Countess thought that eating during the day made Kata tired, she may not see a mid-day meal for a long time. It wouldn’t be the first time that the Countess had done something for “her own good.” Kata shifted her weight to one thigh on the hard stool and groaned with the relief of pressure on the now elevated side.  Kata repeated the subtle motion and felt the warmth of circulating blood reinvigorate her flesh.  She moved her wrists in gentle circles, simultaneously flexing her fingers, relieving the stress she had been clenching in her fists all morning while she sat.  The movement helped keep her body awake, but she felt exhaustion still nibbling at the edges of her frayed mind.  

There was an abrupt knock on the door and Kata stood and looked to Erzsebet who nodded to open the door.  Behind the door was a young soldier, bloodshot eyes haloed by dark circles.  Erzsebet gave the boy an impatient look and snapped, “Well?  What news do you bring?”  Kata was the only one in the room who heard the hint of fear in Erzsebet’s voice.  

The boy soldier stepped forward softly, head bowed nearly to his chest until he was a few feet from Erzsebet’s chair.    He then lifted his head and said “My Lady, I was sent by your husband, Count Nadasdy.”  Erzsebet’s black eyes focused on the boy like a wolf’s on prey.  “He wanted me to let you know that he is journeying home from the front.  As I speak to you now he will be here in two days.”

The Countess let out a yelp as her mouth spread into a delirious grin.  “So much sooner than I thought!  Thank you, my boy, for bringing me something joyful to think about, rather than the usual insufferable news I receive.”  Her eyes darted to the men at the table with her. “Kata, please make sure this young man gets something to eat as reward.”

Erzsebet looked away from the boy solider, having quickly lost interest in him now that he had served his purpose.  Kata peered out the door and signaled to a page in the hallway and Kata guided the soldier out the door and instructed the page to take him to Reka for some left over goulash if there was any.  

Several minutes later, the house staff entered the room to start clearing out the bowls and cutlery from the meal.  It also marked that it was time for Erzsebet’s guests to depart.  The men stood and shook hands with each other, paid their customary respects to the Countess and took their leave.  Soon the room was empty of everyone but Kata and the Countess.  Kata closed the door to the hallway and walked to the left wall.  The masonry of the wall was hidden by a large tapestry of a unicorn with its head in a young woman’s lap, its eyes gazing up at her while a knight with a raised spear approaches from behind.  Kata bent to the floor and began to roll the tapestry from the bottom up, slowly revealing a dark wood door held to the stone with heavy hinges and secured with a lock the size of Kata’s fist.  She tied the tapestry with string to secure it above the door frame while Erzsebet cleared the previously occupied table.  

        When the table was clear and the tapestry secure, Erzsebet went to her desk and pulled a large key from the drawer.  “Thank you, Kata.  You may wait outside until we’re done.”  Erzsebet didn’t look at Kata while she pushed the key into the lock.

        Kata nodded her head and made her way to the door as she heard the click of the lock opening, and as she closed the door behind her, she saw the hooded figure emerge from the darkness of the hidden doorway.

***

The door shut silently behind them, and Kata held her breath for a moment in case Erzsebet had forgotten something she needed from her.  When she heard nothing Kata half ran towards the kitchen, side stepping other servants going about their day, and making sure to use the back halls away from other nobility in the castle.  She didn’t want someone asking Erzsebet why her servant was breathlessly running the halls.

Kata burst into the kitchen and found Reka removing an empty bowl from in front of the tired looking young solider.  Reka looked up at Kata and nodded at her, letting her know the solider had already shared the news.  “You’ll make sure everyone knows what to do?” Kata asked.

The last time Ferenc had been home, Kata had to replace nearly the entire kitchen staff, and the porous stone floors underneath their feet were now permanently stained with dark brown splotches. Reka, ignoring the look of confusion on the face of the boy at the table gave Kata a grim nod.  “I have a plan.”

Kata made her way back to her assigned post outside the door of the Countess’ study and took her post on the short stool against the wall.  

***

Erzsebet’s education had benefited Kata as well since often Erzsebet demanded that Kata remain by her side.  Kata had been with Erzsebet when she’d been sent to Vienna to study, and then to Budapest, and she had always sat in on the lessons, listening from afar.  But these monthly lessons had never been open to Kata.  They began after Erzsebet and Ferenc’s wedding and Kata had tried for years to figure out what secrets Erzsebet was learning, but so far with no luck.  Erzsebet wouldn’t even tell her the subject matter.  

As far as Kata could tell, the teacher was always the same person, and she wondered at how old the mysterious figure must be.  Over the years Kata had noticed different trinkets tucked into the pockets of Erzsebet’s dresses, laid on the dressing table in her bedroom, or tucked in a drawer of her desk, items that had not been there prior to a visit from Erzsebet’s teacher.  Several times Kata had seen Erzsebet pull a heavy book from one of the shelves as the teacher arrived.

The shadows of the afternoon grew and Kata’s limbs stiffened as she sat on the cramped stool.   She arched her back, enjoying each pop of her spine, just as she heard the rhythmic knock on the door indicating she was expected back in the room.  Entering, she saw the large book open and sitting on the table in the room.  She moved to the tapestry and began to undo the tie, doing her best not to betray her burning curiosity about the book.   Erzsebet looked at Kata thoughtfully as if she were solving a puzzle while the tapestry was unfurled.

***

Kata’s tired fingers worked quickly at unclasping tiny hooks that followed the smooth curve of Erzsebet’s spine.  A heavy knot had been growing heavier in her stomach all day and her fingers had begun to tremble subtly with anxiety.  

        Kata finished unhooking the back and helped Erzsebet step out of the painstakingly constructed dress.  As Erzsebet shrugged off the weight of her clothing she sighed wistfully and said, “Oh, it’s been so long since I’ve been in the arms of my love.  I wish you could understand how my heart aches for him.  I’m not whole without him, as if he takes my arm or leg with him as a memento when he leaves.  Every time he leaves I fear it’s the last I’ll see him.” Her eyes misted over.  “I don’t know why I think you’d understand.  You’ve never had a man look at you the way my dragon looks at me, especially on his first night home…”  She trailed off, slender arms slowly running up and down the sides of her torso.

        Suppressing a shudder, Kata smiled weakly and began to work on the corset that bound Erzsebet’s small frame.  “You are truly lucky, my lady.  I can only hope to someday have a romance like yours.”  The words rose like bile. Kata had loved a man, once, back when she was younger, still beautiful.  

        Akos.  His name meant white falcon, and Kata had foolishly believed that he would fly her away. She was sixteen and still full of hope and he had a kindness in his eyes that she was unaccustomed to.  He smelled of late summer, when the fields turn gold, and the air sharpens.

        Bright red lines and indentations in soft flesh revealed themselves to Kata as she worked her way down Erzsebet’s intricate undergarment, loosening ribbons and undoing hooks and clasps.  Kata often noticed that despite their closeness in age, Erzsebet didn’t seem to appear much old than she did at twenty.  Her skin remained smooth and pale, gently stretching over her delicate wrists, wrapping around her long, slender fingers and stretching the length of her neck up to her face, smooth from the usual etchings of time in older women.  Kata looked down at her own rough hands, cracked from a lifetime of caring for her mistress and thought of how her skin sagged and wrinkled around her body.  Still, she was better preserved than other women in the castle, those who hadn’t been charged with a lifetime by Erzsebet’s side. They were nameless, disposable women, and if they caught Erzsebet’s attention…well Kata did her best to keep the servants in the shadows.  

        “I remember the first time I saw him. Oh, sweet Kata!  My heart fluttered even then!  He was just a boy, and I was just becoming a woman, but I knew.  I knew right then that he was mine and I was his.”  Erzsebet tittered, revealing a toothy smile that those ignorant of their marital activities might find sweet.

        Kata had been there when they first met.  The child devils gazed at each other with silly smiles while their fathers worked out the politics of the arrangement.  Even then Kata had felt a nagging tickle at the back of her mind that something terrible was just beginning.

        The Nadasdy family had proposed the union of their son to Erzsebet in order to bolster their political standing during a time of shifting loyalties and ever changing borders.  While both families had great wealth and illustrious reputations, the Bathorys were an older family and their influential name had secured them as a powerful family in the kingdom for generations.  George Bathory, Erzsebet’s father, had a personal fondness for Ferenc’s father, and under the agreement that Erzsebet would keep her name, the families were joined.

Thousands of elaborately dressed guests had come for the celebration, all bearing expensive gifts of jewels and wine.  Erzsebet and Ferenc had consummated their union several times before their wedding however, assisted by Kata running love notes between the two.  On the day of the ceremony Erzsebet was radiating joy.  

Akos had been a young servant of Cachtice Castle, which had been a wedding gift from Nadasdy family to Erzsebet.  He’d known all the best places to hide in the castle, and knew when he and Kata would be able to slip away unnoticed for long enough to hungrily embrace.  She’d loved his confidence and brilliance in finding ways around the increasingly ridged rules in the castle.  She had loved him and he had loved her.  However, as all things eventually do in Cachtice Castle, their love met a painful death.

Akos had looked directly at Kata while he died.  He had known in that last moment that his fate was Kata’s fault.  Erzsebet would never have known his face, let alone his name, had Kata not told her. 

.        All of the undergarments were undone and Erzsebet now stood before Kata naked, vulnerable and breathtaking.  The light from the nearby candles illuminated the room and cast quivering light along the gentle curves of Erzsebet’s shape, drawing rivers of shadow the length of her body and concealing the left side of her face.

        Kata brought Erzsebet’s nightclothes to her and helped her into the shapeless white dress.  “I’m thinking of bringing a seamstress in to make me a dress for Ferenc’s homecoming.  I want to greet him in something worthy of his great deeds in battle.  Also, start working with the servants in the kitchen.  I don’t want to serve him another disaster like last time.  That was unacceptable and I expect a meal worthy of a great man like your lord.  He’s been fighting tirelessly for our people, and they should show some appreciation.  I will not be disappointed again.”

        Kata smiled as her veins filled with ice, “Of course, my lady!  I will make sure the kitchen knows, and I’ll summon the best seamstress to come make your dress.”  

Kata knew that it could take weeks to craft one of Erzsebet’s dresses, and this request only had two possible outcomes for the poor woman that would be dragged to the castle; six sleepless nights of sewing, or bloodshed.  She would have to get someone from several villages away.  Kata hadn’t shared with Erzsebet that no one from the nearest village would come to the castle anymore; they’d lost too many girls.  Only children and old women lived there now.  

        Erzsebet wiggled her head through the top of the nightdress, smiled gently at Kata and placed her hand against Kata’s cheek.  “I’m so grateful that I have you, Kata.  I don’t know how I could survive without you.”  

        Erzsebet slowly pulled her hand back from Kata’s face, her delicate fingertips grazing the roundness of Kata’s cheek.  Erzsebet lingered over Kata’s jaw which was tight and strained in a taught rope, a blink of annoyance darting across Erzsebet’s face while she said nothing.

        The two moved with practiced synchronism towards the large vanity by the window of the room, the final act of their nightly ritual.  Erzsebet sat lightly on the ornate chair placed before the mirror and looked at her reflection, a bemused smile playing on her lips.  Kata watched her own reflection emerge, dull and serious, as she moved behind the Countess.  Erzsebet tipped her head to the side, her mouth upturning deeper into her cheeks.

        Kata lifted her arms and began removing the delicate pins from Erzsebet’s hair that she had painstakingly put in that morning, curls of hair tumbling down around Erzsebet’s narrow shoulders.  The candlelight slid over each pin as Kata plucked them from the mass of dark hair before her.  Erzsebet began to gently hum the lullaby she used to sing to her children.  Despite the soothing melody, Kata’s teeth began to grind against each other.  Erzsebet had hummed the same song the previous night while she had mindlessly poked and pulled at the gaping wounds on what used to be the young seamstress.

 Distracted, Kata reached her hand, without looking, to the other holding the bundle of hair pins.  Misjudging the distance, she felt a sudden sting on the tip of her finger and looked down and to see a prick of blood bloom and drip on to the hem of Erzsebet’s nightgown. Bright red on bright white.

Kata felt a sudden shiver of rage vibrate from deep within her, race up her spine, and tingle across her scalp.  She looked at the stone smooth complexion below her in the mirror, the soft flesh of Erzsebet’s neck, exposed to Kata.  She watched the steady pulse of Erzsebet’s heart beat in her neck, suddenly flooded by images of the women who’d had their necks split open by Erzsebet’s blade.  The way blood had spilled from Akos’ neck under Erzsebet’s blade.  Kata’s eyes jumped to the letter opener, its sharp edge glinting in the light, then to the needles gripped in her hand, then at the heavy candle stick within arm’s reach.  She could end this now with just her two calloused hands around that soft neck.  It would be so easy, so fast.

        But Kata knew she wouldn’t.  

And so did Erzsebet.

Erzsebet stopped humming and familiar silence filled the air between them as hair continued to fall around Erzsebet’s face and pool on her shoulders.  Kata reached instinctually to the brush lying in its familiar spot on the table and began to gently brush her mistress’ hair.

Next Chapter: Chapter 3