A Cat at Bay Page 13

  “I trust your journey was uneventful?” Major General Joschka Graf von Hohen-Drachenburg inquired as Rachel settled gratefully into the soft leather seat.

  “Yes, my lord General, thank you.” Col. Helmut Eszterházy raised his hand from the front passenger seat, barely looking up from something in his other hand, and Rachel waved back. How can he read on these roads? And I thought I had a cast-iron stomach. A moment later the driver fastened his seatbelt and the antique car purred into motion. Rachel said, “So, tell me about Hannes’s latest escapade! Gräfin Adele mentioned something about a tree and the carp pond?”

  Joschka sketched the tale of his six-year-old great-grandson’s adventures with great relish and Rachel chuckled at the mental picture of the young lad emerging from the water, a large and expensive decorative fish in the bib of his overalls and a proud expression on his face. She also noted that they were taking a circuitous route to their destination, but didn’t comment. Instead she laughed at the stories and admired the scenery. Earth could be so green and lush in places, and the valleys of the Alps were certainly one of the loveliest sections of this planet. The wildflowers and meadows along the small river seemed to be trying to make up for time lost to the hard winter by blooming wildly, all at once, along with the chestnut and apple trees.

  The entrance of Schloss Hohen-Drachenburg had not changed in the years since Rachel’s last visit, and probably not much since its completion many centuries before then. The brown-and-grey stone and wood castle crouched atop a spur of the Drachenburg, watching over the quiet valley below. Large planters full of flowers and blooming almond trees, nurtured through a hundred Austrian winters, helped relieve the lingering starkness. Two flags waved from the ends of the house’s wings: the Austrian national flag, and the blue and white banner showing that the Graf was in residence. Rachel was not surprised to see two servants and silver-haired Gräfin Adele emerge from the main door of the Schloss. Colonel Eszterházy and Andreas opened the car doors for the rear-seat passengers, and Rachel took a deep breath of the spring-scented air.

  “Commander Na Gael! It’s so good to see you!” Adele declared as the women hugged their greetings.

  Joschka handed his hat to the colonel before sweeping his wife into a passionate embrace, no doubt scandalizing her children and the servants. Adele blushed furiously, laughing as she made a half-hearted attempt to fend her husband off. “Joschka! Please, not out here in front of everyone!” Rachel and Helmut Eszterházy paid careful attention to the plantings on the north side of the doorway.

  “If you insist, my love,” and Joschka released her. “I trust we are not too late for coffee?”

  Adele shook her head, “Helmut sent word ahead that you had been delayed. Commander, would you like to freshen up a bit before ‘na Jause?”

  Rachel smiled, “Yes, thank you, my lady.” Joschka gestured for the ladies to precede him through the door.

  After tea and a slice of a wonderful lemon and almond torte, one of the servants showed Rachel to her room. “Dinner is at seven, Frau Na Gael, will you be needing anything?”

  Rachel looked around the room, shaking her head. “No, I will not, thank you. Will someone come fetch me before dinner? I am not familiar with where things are.” It had been almost fifteen years since her last visit, and things might well have changed.

  The maid replied “Yes, ma’am,” shutting the door as she left. Abandoning dignity, Rachel flopped back onto the luxuriously appointed bed, lacing her fingers behind her neck and staring up at the embroidered canopy. Unless you knew the story of the Drachenburg, she mused, the stitchwork picture looked like a typical Medieval-revival knight slaying dragon scene. Ah well, no point in getting stage makeup all over the lovely furnishings, so she rolled upright and took off her boots, then padded over to the washroom. She scrubbed until no trace of the itchy cosmetics remained before reapplying a light cover coat to minimize the scars. It was to be a “family dinner”—her, Joschka and Adele, and Helmut Eszterházy. Which suited Rachel just fine.

  Joschka had explained Helmut’s presence, leaving Rachel wondering what sort of fit General Jones would throw if she knew. “He is my aid at the moment, on semi-detached duty. Since my work is both diplomatic as well as military, he accompanies me to certain social functions.” «And he is a friend’s son, and heir to a Guardian, head of House Sárkány-Kárpatok.»

  Rachel had nodded, imagining Evelyn Jones’s recitation of complaints. I thought Rahoul was a by-the-book martinet, Blessed Bookkeeper, but he’s a paragon of creativity and irregular conduct compared to General Jones.

  Despite Adele’s assurances that the evening meal was “plain,” Rachel’s eyebrows rose slightly at the beautifully decorated table and selection of dishes. After grace, the four diners enjoyed fresh asparagus, roast lamb, new potatoes, asparagus soup, salads, and fresh brötchen. The others divided a bottle of a local red wine, while Rachel had her usual sparkling mineral water. Helmut noticed her choice, inquiring, “Commander, do you not care for wine?”

  She chuckled and shook her head. “Alas no, sir. I like the flavors of different wines very much, but they do not care for me in the slightest! Nor does any kind of distilled beverage.”

  “That truly is a shame. You are missing one of the pleasures of life,” he replied with a smile.

  “I use wines and liqueurs in cooking, but I understand that it is not the same.” Rachel shrugged a little. “Still, I have managed to learn something about vintages and varietals over the years, so perhaps it is not a total loss. And I remember what happened the night before! Which can be a great advantage when it comes to, oh, shall I say, improving one’s position and small income,” she finished with a mischievous smile as the others laughed.

  Helmut retired early since he had to be at morning inspection, leaving the others to have tea and coffee on the terrace outside the breakfast room. It faced east, and the trio watched the first evening stars appear overhead while scattered lights began dotting the valley below. “So Rachel, do you have any plans for your stay at the Drachenburg?” the Gräfin inquired.

  Rachel sensed something afoot. “No Ma’am. I seem to remember a threat of a formal reception and Joschka suggested I bring both my working clothes and something in case he decides that he really wants the object of a wager back, but otherwise no.”

  “A wager, Joschka? What might that have been, dear?” Adele teased her husband.

  “A small trifle with only sentimental value, my love. And I believe I do, Rachel,” he challenged, eyes flashing. “But not tonight. And not tomorrow, either. I have work to attend to, as you can well imagine.”

  She nodded. “I certainly can, my lord.”

  The Gräfin sipped her coffee meditatively and then shrugged. “Do you ride, Rachel?”

  A bit nonplussed at the sudden change of topic, Rachel answered in the affirmative.

  “Good. I want to go out tomorrow, and since Joschka must work you can come with me. Given the collection of antiquities in this castle,” Adele gave her husband a look that suggested he was one of them, “I’m sure Meister Lukas can find a saddle that fits and that we have boots and breeches that you can wear,” the countess announced.

  “Well, my lord, I suppose that answers the question about what I had planned for my visit,” Rachel sighed as Joschka laughed.

  “My friend, you should know by now that any lady willing to put up with my eccentricities is a force to be reckoned with.”

  Even in the darkness of the warm evening, Rachel could see Adele’s faint blush as she denied her husband’s charge. Time to be leaving, I do believe. “And with your generous permission, before I hear something that I might be called upon to testify about at some point in the future, I will retire for the evening. My lord General, Lady Adele, if you will excuse me?”

  The Gräfin stood with Rachel. “Certainly. I forgot that you have been traveling all day, for which I apologize! If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. Joschka tends to keep odd hours, so there is
someone on duty at night. Good night.”

  Rachel bowed slightly, “Good night my lord, my lady,” and saw herself off to bed.

  She found a set of riding clothes awaiting her when she returned from breakfast the next morning. The third pair of boots fit, and she shook her head as she looked herself over in the full-length mirror. I need longer legs. But only an utter idiot rode in loose fitting pants or soft-soled shoes, and she didn’t care to discover how badly she rode side-saddle after this long, so she collected the helmet and gloves from the small table by the door to her room and set off for the stables.

  “Ah, there you are, Rachel! Good!” Adele announced, looking young and stylish in her breeches and jacket. The noblewoman turned to a stocky, red-faced man who stood just off to one side. “Commander Na Gael, Meister Lukas is the riding master and head breeder of Hohen-Drachenburg. Since we raise and train our own horses, he knows everything there is to know about what we have in the stables. Meister Lukas, Rachel rides but has not been out for several months.” Rachel stepped forward for inspection as Adele left to collect her own mount from a waiting groom.

  The riding master looked the woman over, then nodded curtly, “Come with me, Commander.” He led her into the stable block, where two horses stood in cross ties after having been groomed. Both were beautiful animals, deep-chested with small ears and calm but attentive eyes.

  “Some Barb in the bloodline, Meister Lukas?” Rachel asked, studying the animals.

  “Yes, and Lusitano four generations back. Hohen-Drachenburg breeds for strength and intelligence first, appearance second. I think Rudi will do for you.”

  “What are his quirks, Meister Lukas?”

  “Trucks, pheasant, and tree branches. He gets nervous with dogs behind him.”

  The riding master walked off to get a set of tack while Rachel carefully introduced herself to the waiting equine. She puffed in his nostrils, then began running her hands down his chest and flank, picking up each hoof to check for rocks and soundness. She also looked to confirm her suspicion that Rudi was whole, as she’d guessed from the thickness of his neck and chest. She tacked the horse herself, adjusting the stirrups for a standard English seat.

  “Do you jump?” Meister Lukas asked as he fastened Rudi’s headstall.

  “No Meister Lukas. Just because I live in England doesn’t mean that I am completely foolish. I have hunted, but prefer hacking and dressage. I’ve trained up to Prix St. George but never competed, and have done some of the airs-above-the-ground. But that was several years ago.” The riding master looked skeptical, as she expected him to.

  The Gräfin had already mounted and was warming her horse up in walled riding area as Rachel led Rudi over to a mounting block. She swung up onto the brown back, checked the horse as he tried to walk off, and settled herself. After a moment she legged Rudi over to the side and then started him walking around the ring. After a lap, she ran though a set of exercises to stretch her muscles and warm them up before pushing the horse into a trot. Sensing that her partner had warmed up as well, Rachel pushed Rudi into a canter, impressed by the silky smoothness of the gait. She slowed him, trotted, and brought the stallion into a piaff in place, then walked the horse so he could stretch and requested a half-halt before backing a few steps and stopping. The Gräfin and Meister Lukas had been watching the entire warm-up, and Rachel kneed Rudi over to where they waited. “Is there anything you can’t do, Rachel?”

  Rachel nodded. “Yes, my lady. I can’t swim, or bake anything, and I have poor grammar in most languages, my lady. I’ve also fallen off all sorts of horses in all sorts of ways over the years. And cleared a few hedges on my own,” she admitted as the riding master smiled.

  That afternoon after they returned from their ride, the women looked over the castle’s assorted gardens. They discussed roses and other flowers and Rachel marveled at how the Schloss’s staff managed to keep such an extensive vegetable and herb garden in a relatively hostile climate like the Austrian Alps. Two of the Gräfin’s daughters, Maria and Barbara, arrived in time for afternoon coffee and torte. They and their husbands would be helping host the formal reception and dinner the next day and the ladies discussed menus, who had confirmed and who had cancelled, and who would be staying overnight at the Schloss. Rachel smiled, amused to hear that this would be a casual formal evening.

  “Ah, Gräfin, where exactly do I fit into all this?” she inquired, curious.

  “Col. Eszterházy will be your escort. Joschka said that you have rank in addition to your former military status?” Adele inquired, making notes as she ate.

  Rachel dug into her memory, trying to convert her Azdhag rank into a reasonable human counterpart. “The closest equivalent is the old March Warder, so I suppose it might be Freiierin? Or the original Herzogin, but that would require a great deal of explanation. Truthfully, for title I’d prefer to just use my military rank or ‘Lady’.”

  Supper was late and light, as Joschka found himself working longer than expected and Adele wanted to give the kitchen staff an easy evening before the next day’s labors. Lady Adele, Maria, and Barbara excused themselves as soon as everyone had finished eating so that they could tend to their responsibilities, leaving Rachel and Joschka to their own devices for the evening. The pair adjourned to the Graf’s library, where he lit a pipe and she settled onto a hassock with a book of medieval German poetry and minnelieder. After a while Joschka closed his eyes. “Rachel, would you be so kind as to read the Lied des Drakons aloud?”

  She paged through the book until she found the requested ballad. “Certainly, sir.” She took a sip of water and began, reciting the thousand-something-year-old tale in the original dialect.

  When she finished, Joschka opened gold-colored eyes and smiled contentedly. “Thank you. It’s been a while since I’ve heard that story.”

  She took a chance and teased, “Was that your father’s or mother’s side of the family?”

  He shook his finger at her, mock scolding, “Now, now. I’ll have you refrain from casting aspersions on my in-laws.” She just laughed.

  After a few minutes of quiet, Joschka sighed. “Actually Rachel, there is something I need to discuss with you and this is as good a time as any to do it.”

  She sobered immediately and leaned forward, intent. “Yes, my lord General?”

  “For you, always Joschka, remember? Are you familiar with how the succession runs in Hohen-Drachenburg?”

  She shook her head. “Through the male line, but no more than that.”

  He nodded, looking off into the distance. “It is by descent and selection both. The candidate must be a legitimate son of the House, trained in the arts of war and peace, and agreed upon by the entire House.” He paused, letting her absorb what he had said. “And until recently, no suitable candidate had appeared. But one has now. Hannes’ father Leopold, Magda’s and my grandson. He is currently serving in Afghanistan, has trained and managed the estate well, is a confirmed and devout Christian, and both his grandmother’s and my blood run true in him. And it seems, in his son Hannes as well.”

  Another silence as Rachel sifted and analyzed what her old friend outlined. The light dawned abruptly and her jaw almost dropped. “Oh Joschka! I never realized . . . I thought your adoption had taken.”

  The graying HalfDragon shook his head, smoothing his beard in his habitual way. “The House thought it had, as well. But the Power will not accept me as other than a placeholder, albeit a welcome one.”

  There was no bitterness in his voice, just tiredness, and Rachel rested a hand on his arm. “What do you need from me? So long as it doesn’t violate my oaths, I’ll do it.”

  He looked down at her, startled. “Are you certain?”

  “You have my word as a friend and battle comrade. What do you need?”

  He looked away again, toward the mountain. “Sunday, after Vespers, I want you to come with Col. Eszterházy and me to meet with the House and the Power. You will be a witness, nothing more. I want to have the
succession sealed to both Leopold and Hannes, although it will be conditional for Hannes. Leopold has already agreed, pending acceptance. I’m tired of worrying about the Drachenburg, Rachel. With the succession settled, I can relax a little and give more of my time to Adele and the GDF.”

  She gestured her agreement. “I’ll stand as a witness for you. Just out of curiosity, why me? Aside from durability.”

  Joschka snorted a laugh and freed his arm to rest a large, warm hand on her shoulder. “Because you are of Azdhagia and of a Power, as well as being a warlord. Eszterházy is heir to the Carpathian branch of House Szárkány. And because I trust you, Rakoji. You have stood by the House and me for many years, and yet are outside local House squabbles. Should there be a question, your word is accepted by all the Houses.”

  Neither of them moved for several minutes, both lost in thought and memory. Finally Rachel’s joints could no longer take the strain and she shifted and her friend withdrew his hand. “I hate getting older,” she complained.

  He started laughing. “Oh, to hear that coming from someone like you! Why don’t you just use whatever that magical biotechnology is you Wanderers are so proud of and take care of it?”

  She shook her head, fudging her answer a bit. “And lose my girlish figure and good looks? No, I’m a stick-in-the-mud, Joschka. And it probably has more to do with riding all morning after not having been on a horse for several years.”

  “Then I suppose you won’t want to meet for that rematch tomorrow, will you?” He laughed harder.

  She clambered to her feet, hands planted on hips. “Ah, so it is a conspiracy! I suspected as much. Adele wears me out in the riding ring and then you beat me up so I can’t dance, is that the plan? You get your pin back and Helmut doesn’t have to look foolish on the floor?” She tsked, grey eye dancing. “I’m disappointed, my lord General. I will gladly face you in the salle tomorrow, if only so I can’t get pressed into service by your gracious, beautiful, take-no-prisoners wife.”