Borne in Blood

PART III Chapter 2

"But what am I to tell Magistrate Lindenblatt? He thought you were taking your guards with you," Balduin protested as he watched Ragoczy load the last of his cases onto his older traveling coach, stowing them on the shelf behind his seat and buckle them in place.
"Given the events of the other night, the guards are needed here, as the Magistrate and I have agreed. He has known of my engagement, and he has agreed that it is satisfactory that I go, so long as I employ his coachman. Because of what Relout has told them, there is good reason now to suppose that the robbers are getting no help from me, or anyone here, and that allows Lindenblatt a degree of tolerance in my regard, no matter what the rumors say."
"But without a guard, some in the region will say you are fleeing," Balduin said with unaccustomed fervor.
Ragoczy came out of the coach. "The Magistrate knows better. He expects us back in five weeks, weather permitting. If we are gone more than six weeks, we will have to send a message of explanation, if it is not on account of weather. He will know about bad weather." He gestured to Guion Charget, the Magistrate's coachman, who was checking the harness on the four red-roan Ardennais cold-bloods. "Hochvall is in no condition to take this journey, and so the arrangement is suitable; I would have to hire a coachman if the Magistrate had not provided his." He got out of the coach and began to walk around it, making sure it was ready to leave; the dim, early morning light and a little fog rising a hands-breadth above the slush made the coach look as if it were floating in the air.
"And you're taking just the one coach?" Balduin frowned, searching for factors that might require a delayed departure. "Didn't Herr Einlass inform you that he had another coach available?"
"He did, but I have already got two coaches on the road with Hero, which means three of them will return, and a dozen horses. I have only one more coach and one more four-horse team in the stable, and I would not like to have to risk all my coach-horses for travel with winter still upon us. You may have some need of a coach during our absence. This way you will have a vehicle and a team to pull it." Ragoczy had donned a black-wool great-coat cut in the Hungarian fashion, its broad collar concealing the stiffness in his shoulder; his clothes beneath were also Hungarian in style. "You have my instructions, authorizations, and my proposed route of travel. Rogier and I, Hildebrand, and Herr Charget should be sufficient to make this journey."
"Dietbold could also be spared. With you away, it isn't always easy to keep the footmen occupied."
"Hildebrand will be sufficient," said Ragoczy, checking the straps on the boot of the coach. "If Dietbold becomes bored, he can always be put to polishing furniture."
Balduin sighed, his breath fogging before his face. "If only I could convince you that there are good reasons to remain here another week at least."
"There may be excellent reasons, but the invitation is specific, and we are expected at Ravensberg by the twenty-ninth of March, and that gives us just fourteen days to get there," said Ragoczy. "You will discover I have addressed most of your concerns in my instructions: very little is different than when we went to Amsterdam last summer."
"But the roads were open in summer," Balduin protested. "The days were longer."
"And we were set upon by highwaymen," Ragoczy added helpfully.
Balduin glanced up at the pale clouds smeared across the sky. "There could be snow again tonight."
"But probably not until tomorrow or the next day," said Ragoczy, "and with luck, we should be at least fifteen leagues along the road."
"A pity you don't know Charget better," said Balduin, making a last effort.
"Yes," agreed Ragoczy. "But the Magistrate vouches for him: who am I to question his judgment." He continued around to the side of the coach and opened the door. "Two fur rugs, a basket of brandy and cheese." These would be for Charget and Hildebrand, but there was no reason Balduin should know that. "A box of books. Trunks in the boot, and the presents for our host and for his niece, as a betrothal gift. We are expected at the Old Wagon in Saint-Gingolph tonight, and so we must leave shortly. It is nine leagues to Saint-Gingolph and not all the road is completely cleared of snow."
As if to add urgency to Ragoczy's remarks, Rogier, dressed for their journey, came out of the side-door, bearing a leather-bound chest in his arms. "Your medicaments," he explained as he prepared to climb into the coach with it.
"Very good," said Ragoczy, opening the door and letting down the steps. "We should be back in five weeks to accommodate Lindenblatt. If there is a delay, word will be sent. Do not fret, Balduin. The time will pass more quickly if you do not fret."
Rogier took his place on the seat facing backward. "Hildebrand is finishing his cream-roll; he will be out within five minutes."
"Is his traveling-case stowed?" Ragoczy asked.
"It is," said Rogier, sketching a salute toward Balduin as Ragoczy climbed in beside him, flipped up the steps and shut the door.
"I shall make written records for every day you are gone, a full record of everything. You and the Magistrate may examine it upon your return." Balduin regarded the coach balefully.
"I thank you for that, and I wish you a pleasant end of winter. Let us hope the last of the snow falls in March, not April, or May." Ragoczy gave a slight inclination of his head.
Balduin returned the nod more deeply, conceding defeat. "May you travel swiftly and safely to your destination, and return without incident." He stepped back and watched as Charget, wrapped in his coachman's cloak and swathed to the eyes in mufflers, his broadbrimmed fur-lined hat crammed down on his head, came to the side of the coach and climbed up to the box at the very moment Hildebrand burst out of the chateau, tugging on his hat as he ran for the footman's perch at the back of the coach; he hauled himself up as Charget whistled to the team, starting them toward the gate.
The Ardennais carriage-horses were fresh and they moved out at a jog-trot, making their way down the drive steadily, their harness jingling in the crisp morning air, the sound of their hooves on the frozen road steady and firm. As they approached the gate, Jervois, who had run down from the chateau, hurried to open it, waving his excitement as the horses slowed for him. The gates swung back and the coach went on through, the wheels leaving deep grooves in the thin mantle of snow; Jervois stood in the opening, waving until the bend in the road carried the coach out of sight and along the road to Yvoire.
"In the summer, we could take the short-cut through Sorbeny to Montriond."
Rogier looked out the window of the coach at the high peaks. "But now they are all filled up with snow, and perilous. It would take days to get there, if we could manage it at all. The horses would be worn out, and the coach would probably need new wheels." He threw one of the fur rugs over his lap and knees, holding one out to Ragoczy, which he declined with a single gesture. "Do you think, when the Allies withdraw from France, that they will return this region to the French, or do you think the Swiss will keep it?"
"That will depend on how the withdrawal goes," Ragoczy said, taking note of the places the road needed repair. "If there is no hostility, then I assume that in time the French will want to reclaim a good portion of it."
"That may be why so many German-Swiss have been encouraged to move into this region," said Rogier.
"It may," said Ragoczy.
Rogier accepted this as an invitation to silence; he slipped his arm through the strap hanging from the ceiling and prepared to nap as the coach howled along to Yvoire, stopping only briefly at the Town Hall to hand over a bond to Magistrate Lindenblatt's secretary against Ragoczy's return from Austria, assurance of the Comte's swift return. A receipt was prepared and notarized, and then the coach was on its way again, going east along the shore of Lake Geneva toward the village of Saint-Gingolph.
The next day brought them to Riddes a little after dark; it took determined persuasion accompanied by a gold coin to arrange matters with the hotelier: despite their late arrival Ragoczy and his servants were allowed to stop for the night at the Stag and Ram, the most luxurious of the three posting inns in the town.
"We will need to go a shorter distance tomorrow," said Rogier as he took care of Ragoczy's personal cases. "In this weather, the towns will close their gates at sunset."
"Yes; they will," said Ragoczy. "And the horses are getting tired."
"Then a day of rest here might be good for all of us. Charget and Hildebrand are showing signs of inner chill," Rogier observed.
"The weather is changing, and not for the better," Ragoczy said. "By tomorrow there will be snow again."
Rogier unrolled a thin mattress atop the hostelry's bed; it was filled with a thin layer of Ragoczy's native earth. "Do you think it will last long?"
"The storm? a day; perhaps two," said Ragoczy. "I think we had better plan to remain here tomorrow if it's snowing. I have no wish to be caught on the road in a snowfall. This is not a good stretch of road on which to be stranded: there are too many avalanches."
"No, not a good place," said Rogier. "They would not find us until May."
Ragoczy reached for the small portfolio that held his maps. "We will need to determine which of the passes are open and then decide which road is best."
Rogier saw that Ragoczy held his right arm close to his body, favoring it. "How is your shoulder?"
"A little sore," Ragoczy admitted. "If only vampires healed as quickly as the living."
"But you don't," said Rogier in a blend of sympathy and exasperation.
"Nor do ghouls," said Ragoczy with a faint smile.
"I'm not the one who had a knife in my shoulder," said Rogier directly. "You do not often reveal when you hurt, so it would seem you are most uncomfortable."
"It is the long hours sitting still," Ragoczy said.
"So a day of light activity is welcome," Rogier suggested.
"For all of us. The horses could use a thorough grooming-I will attend to that tomorrow. We must also purchase more food for the coach so that Charget and Hildebrand will have something to eat on the road."
They discussed various exigencies of travel for more than an hour, then Ragoczy retired for the night. In the morning he waited until his coachman and footman had breakfasted, then descended to the main floor of the inn. After paying for their second night and the meals they would need, Ragoczy went off to the stable to take care of the Ardennais team, brushing the mud from the long, black feathering around their hooves and retying the neat, braided knots in their black manes. The whole task took over two hours, and by the time Ragoczy went back to his room, Rogier had returned from shopping with sausages, beer, cheese, and a crock of preserved quinces.
"I'll arrange for fresh bread in the morning, and a pippin of butter," Rogier announced as he stowed the comestibles in the hamper.
"The horses will be ready for the next leg of the journey. Their shoes are holding, their legs are in good shape. Their travel-coats are clean, their harness is cleaned and oiled. I've paid for extra grain for them tonight." Ragoczy swung his arm to exercise his shoulder. "It will be another month at least before I have my strength back."
"And six months before it stops hurting," said Rogier wisely.
"Very likely," said Ragoczy.
The next morning they left Riddes at the back end of a storm that was now raging eastward. The road was three inches deep in snow-not so deep that the old berms on either side of it were lost in drifts, but sufficient to make for slow-going. By nightfall they had covered under eight leagues, arriving at Unterleuk as the two church-bells of the town tolled the Angelus. The next day they covered nine leagues, and the day after, ten. News of an avalanche held them at Chur for a day while Ragoczy and Charget decided which road to take into Austria, and as soon as word was brought that the avalanche had been cleared enough for traffic to move past it, they resumed their travels, arriving at Ravensberg thirteen days after they left Chateau Ragoczy. The sun was producing a watery shine through a film of clouds and the wind had died down, promising better weather ahead.
"Very good time, considering all the factors; we have a day to spare," said Ragoczy as he climbed out of the coach in the Ravensberg courtyard shortly before three in the afternoon; he handed two gold coins to Charget and one to Hildebrand, saying to the young footman, "Come to my room later and I will give you an ointment for the chapping on your face. It will stop the peeling."
"Danke, Comte," said Hildebrand through stiff lips.
Charget unwound his heaviest muffler and doffed his hat, watching as the grooms hurried out from the stable. "Be sure you check the on-side wheeler. His hock is a little stiff, I fear."
"I have a poultice for that," Ragoczy told his borrowed coachman.
"A good thing," said Charget. "He'll need it."
"That's Grenadier," said Hildebrand. "His harness-partner is Hussar."
"And the leaders are Dragoon and Fusilier," said Ragoczy, moving aside so that Rogier could bring out a few of their cases and baskets.
Three footmen were approaching from the Schloss, one dragging a low wagon for baggage. They came up to the coach and began to unload it while the grooms unhooked the team and led them away to the stable.
"I'll come to check them shortly," called out Charget to the grooms.
"They'll be ready," one of the grooms called back.
Behind the footmen came the steward, very dignified in his most formal daytime clothing. He offered Ragoczy a bow. "On behalf of the Graf von Ravensberg, you are most welcome here."
"Thank you," said Ragoczy, knowing it was expected.
"Five other guests are here before you. If you will accompany me, the servants and your man will see to the disposal of your bags." It was rude to stare directly at a noble guest, so the steward directed his gaze over Ragoczy's left shoulder. "They are assembled in the billiard-room."
"It will be my honor to meet them," said Ragoczy. "But I will need twenty minutes to change clothes. I would not want to expose von Ravensberg and his guests to all the grime of the road."
The steward bowed. "As you wish. You will be taken to your room at once; I shall inform the guests that you will join them directly."
"That will be much appreciated," said Ragoczy, and signaled to Rogier. "I will meet you in the room."
"Very shortly," Rogier said as Ragoczy followed the steward into Ravensberg.
The Schloss was in the grand tradition of a century ago, and the current Graf had done his utmost to make the Schloss as splendid as he could. Ragoczy stood in the entry-hall that was flanked by two curving staircases that served to frame the great corridor leading into the Great Hall. Two suits of armor stood on either side of the staircases, and an elaborate chandelier in brass and crystal hung from the high ceiling; only four candles were lit at present, and small puddles of wax on the marble floor revealed that this was a customary courtesy.
"The servants' stairs are in the back, and there is another interior staircase, as well." The steward pointed to the gallery where the stairs met. "Edelfonsus will take you to your room." He clapped his hands, and a young man in household livery came hurrying. "Comte Franciscus has arrived and wishes to change his clothes. He will be in the Rose Room, if you will take him there?"
Before Edelfonsus could speak, a burst of giggles came from the Great Hall, and Hyacinthie rushed forward. She was arrayed in a fashionable dress of fine-spun wool the color of lilacs, with a high neck decorated with a narrow lace ruff; from a neatly tied black ribbon on the corsage of her dress depended a small portrait of a young child. As she came up to Ragoczy she held out her hand and curtsied. "Welcome to Ravensberg, Comte. It is such a pleasure to see you again."
"Fraulein," said the steward, making it as much a reprimand as a servant could.
"Oh, I met the Comte in Amsterdam. I need not stand on ceremony with him, since he's not a stranger. Need I?" This last was directly to Ragoczy.
Ragoczy kissed her hand. "It is a pleasure to see you, Fraulein, and to wish you happy."
Aware that the servants were watching, Hyacinthie made a charming pout. "To give up my life to another so soon," she said, and cast a mischievous glance at Ragoczy. "Mutze disapproves of me, don't you, Mutze?"
"It is not for me to say, Fraulein," the steward answered stiffly.
"But you don't approve of this reception, not while Rosalie is still missing. You think we should have postponed the celebration, and so do I. But my uncle is determined." She waggled her fingers at Edelfonsus. "Well, come on. Lead the way. I won't go farther than the gallery."
"I think it better that Edelfonsus take me up," said Ragoczy. "I undoubtedly need a clean shirt and another pair of boots. I should improve my appearance altogether."
Disappointed but unwilling to relinquish him, Hyacinthie said, "At least you came alone. That's something."
"Hardly alone: Rogier is with me, and a coachman and a footman as well." He nodded to her as he began to ascend the stairs.
"Not that. Your friend isn't with you." The smile Hyacinthie offered was dazzling although her eyes remained cold.
"Ah. She is with her children at Scharffensee and will join me here in a few days," said Ragoczy.
Hyacinthie resisted the urge to stamp her foot. "So soon?" She turned away.
"I expect so," said Ragoczy, stopping so Edelfonsus could pass him and lead the way to the Rose Room.
"Will her children be with her?" She could not keep the anger completely out of her question, but the smile remained firmly affixed to her mouth.
"No, I think not," said Ragoczy, wondering what the servants would make of their conversation.
"That's something," Hyacinthie murmured, and swung back around to look at Ragoczy. "You may decide to enjoy yourself while you're here, Comte, without waiting for Madame."
"I expect your uncle will entertain us all," Ragoczy said at his most neutral as he reached the gallery. "I shall return directly."
Hyacinthie curtsied. "I'll be waiting."
Ragoczy said nothing more as Edelfonsus guided him down the main corridor to another hallway, where he pointed to the three doors away from the tall, narrow windows.
"The second room is yours. The room beyond is for your manservant. One of us will take you to the Graf when you have readied yourself."
"That is very good of you," said Ragoczy, handing the young man a silver coin. "Will my manservant be up soon?"
"Five more minutes," said Edelfonsus. "He is coming by the side-stairs-they're the nearest."
"Are other rooms in this corridor occupied?" Ragoczy asked, looking toward the third door.
"That is for your ... companion. Upon her arrival." Edelfonusus blushed and took a step back.
"Danke," said Ragoczy, and went to the center door, trying the latch carefully before letting himself into the bedchamber allotted to him: it was a room of good size, with a neat fireplace taking up one corner. The bed was large with elaborate hangings in the color that gave the room its name, with a broad stool beside it to help him climb up into it. The carpet had a pattern of roses worked into it, the same shade as the hangings. Elaborate sconces with oil-lamps flanked the bed, and on the opposite wall there were two more sconces on either side of a tall mirror. The walls were paneled in oak but for the north-facing wall, which included a window-seat and three mullioned windows that provided the room with a fair amount of light. Ragoczy walked over to the windows, removing his Hungarian great-coat, and looked out into the small garden beneath, and the rising hillside to the east, all the while wondering what to do about the mirror, for he cast no reflection in it.
A tap at the door warned him that Rogier had arrived with his bags; he draped his great-coat over the end of the bench and sat down in the embrasure of the window-seat, calling out, "Enter."
Rogier, in the company of two footmen, came into the chamber, took swift stock of it, then directed the servants to put the bags down away from the mirror. He gave each man a silver coin, saying, "You have done good service. I will attend to my own cases a little later; right now my master needs my assistance to dress for the evening."
The two footmen hurried out of the room, afraid to be curious.
Once the door was closed, Ragoczy rose and came over to Rogier. "I trust you can do something about-" He gestured to the mirror. "Not that it is not very fine: it is. But I would rather not look at it; it is too disconcerting."
"I have a sheet I can put over it." Like all proper manservants, he carried changes of bed-linens when traveling, since many hostelries were not inclined to use the best bed-linens for their guests.
"If you are asked about it, what will you say?" Ragoczy unbuttoned his coat and began to remove it.
"Probably that you may misconstrue the reflection in this unfamiliar place and might damage the mirror. Since it is unquestionably valuable, I have taken this precaution." His smile glinted and vanished.
"Excellent," said Ragoczy, putting his coat on the bed and unfastening his cuffs. "I should change these, too. If you will get out a clean collar and cuffs, and the ruby cufflinks?"
Rogier had been unbuckling the straps on the largest trunk. "It shouldn't take me long to find them. They're in the middle drawer."
Ragoczy tossed his cuffs on top of his coat. "The waistcoat seems all right."
"For this evening, I should think so. I assume you want the black evening coat with the swallow-tail and the black-silk cravat?" Rogier asked as he pulled out the items in question. "And the dark-gray unmentionables."
"Yes; and the Italian evening pumps." He unfastened his cravat and it, too, was added to the clothes on the bed. As he reached for the discreetly frilled cuffs Rogier handed him, Ragoczy remarked as he put them, "Hyacinthie greeted me."
"So I understand," said Rogier. "The servants are abuzz about it."
"I will keep that in mind," Ragoczy said, and took the silver cufflinks Rogier held out to him.
By the time he left the Rose Room, some twenty minutes later, Ragoczy was elegantly arrayed for the evening. His appearance was all that could be wanted in good company in any city in Europe. Even his magnificent ruby stick-pin in his lapel was restrained and in excellent taste. His only other jewelry was his signet-ring marked with his eclipse device.
True to her word, Hyacinthie was waiting for him at the foot of the two curving stairways. "One would never think you had been in a coach for days on end," she said in girlish approval. "In Amsterdam, you were always turned out perfectly."
"Thank you, Fraulein. That is very generous of you." He spoke quietly, aware that servants were watching.
Impulsively she reached out and took his arm. "Oh, I wish I were in Amsterdam again. Winter here is so dreary."
"Winter in Amsterdam can be fairly wretched," he said, "with storms pounding in off the North Sea."
"But Amsterdam is exciting," she protested winsomely. "It's full of people, and things to do. Not like this place."
"Then you must be looking forward to your marriage," said Ragoczy as she escorted him into the billiard room. "Trier is an interesting place."
"But to be married in order to achieve it," she said as if this was the first time the thought had crossed her mind. "It is a hard bargain we women must make." She smiled widely, in case she had offended him. "You brought another coachman."
"Gutesohnes is driving Madame von Scharffensee. He will bring her here." He slipped his arm out of her grasp as they neared the billiard room and the sound of conversation reached his ears.
The slight was a small one, Hyacinthie thought as she fell a step behind him; he should not have pulled away from her. It was a little thing, but she decided he would pay for it, and pay a high price. I will not be disregarded, she said to herself, and followed Ragoczy into the billiard room where the guests were waiting to be introduced to the distinguished newcomer.
Text of a letter from Egmond Talbot Lindenblatt, Magistrate, of Yvoire, Swiss France, to Reinhart Olivier Kreuzbach, attorney at law, at Speicher, Rhenish Prussia; carried by messenger and delivered eleven days after it was written.
To the respected advocate R. O. Kreuzbach of Speicher, Rhenish Prussia, the greetings of the Magistrate E. T. Lindenblatt of Yvoire, Lake Geneva, Swiss France, as we are now designated on this, the 1stday of April, 1818
My dear advocate,
Pursuant to the matters regarding your client, Comte Franciscus of the Chateau Ragoczy of this town, it is my duty to inform you, during the absence of the Comte, of the following developments in respect to the robbers of this region, to wit: that the two men captured at Chateau Ragoczy while in the apparent act of robbing the estate, both have been identified. One is Jiac Relout, a day-laborer from Sacre-Sang, the other is Paulot Desarmes from Halle; his occupation is not known. Each has said that the third man with them was Loys Begen, another day-laborer from Sacre-Sang, who has not yet been apprehended. Both declare that they know nothing of the fourth man a few of the servants claim to have seen: I am inclined to think that the man is a product of confusion not observation.
I have obtained sworn statements from each that they do not know whom the robbers deal with, that they were acting on their own, and that they chose Ragoczy because his generosity suggested he had goods and livestock to spare. Both swear that it was Paulot Desarmes who made arrangements with the robbers so that they would not fear for their lives, for it has been the practice of the robbers to kill any known to be preying on the same travelers and estates that they consider to be within their domain. That is the word they are purported to use: domain. These thieves are haughty men, and as ruthless as the barons of old. Relout and Desarmes have requested the protection of the courts until the robbers are apprehended; they say they will not survive if they are released from custody before the robbers are caught.
At this point I would like to keep the guards at Chateau Ragoczy, not because I still have suspicions, but as an attempt to draw out those who help the robbers. I am convinced that if I can lull these men into a state of submission, I can turn that to the advantage of the court. With the Comte in Austria, I can see no reason to change my arrangements, and unless you wish to protest my ploy, I will continue it, at least until such time as the Comte himself returns to advise me of his wishes. With this joint administration beginning, I feel it is to the benefit of everyone in the region to resolve this matter as quickly as possible; therefor I would be very much obliged if you, on behalf of the Comte, will indulge this subterfuge so that the worst criminals may be brought to justice at last, and a danger to all of us finally ended.
I look forward to your response and thank you for all assistance you can render in these difficult circumstances.
Most sincerely,
Egmond Talbot Lindenblatt
Magistrate, Yvoire, Lake Geneva
Swiss France