AN: This is a translation of my story Nebezpečná hra.
Before I started writing this, I did my research quite thoroughly. All those information about political background, historical figures and many other things (often unimportant) never really show in the text, but I did it to try to stick to reality as much as possible. However I don't claim any great historical accuracy. As in the game - the basics are real and then I took some liberties when it suited me.
A part of my research included playing the epilogue again and watching it on youtube few time to refresh my memory. I suggest you do the same before reading, although it shouldn't be necessary.
English isn't my first language so it is possible that you will find some strange things there (those conditionals and past tenses will be the death of me). I tried my best, but should you find something truly horrendous, don't hesitate to point it out, please. I would love to get better.
"I hope I am not intruding, Henry? I need to talk to you before you leave."
"Not at all, father. Come in. Sit here." Henry hastily moved a pile of clothes from his chair to the bed. "If you don't mind, I would like to continue. I'll be done in a moment."
Radzig nodded and then sat down. Henry packed his belongings into two bags, feeling his father's gaze on him. He was curious about the purpose of this visit, but he expected to find out soon enough, so he suppressed his impatience and continued to pack. When he finished and Radzig was still silent, he turned to face him, sat on the bed and looked him straight in the eye.
"Father?"
Radzig just sighed. "I have a bad feeling about your trip tomorrow, Hal."
"I don't understand. All we have to do is deliver the letter, wait for an answer and then go back. We'll be back in a week or so."
"Yes, it sounds very simple put like that. But I am afraid we are kicking a wasp's nest with that thing." Radzig rubbed his face. "Nobody was interested in us too much. Sigismund just came for the silver and left again. But margrave Jobst chose us to do his work for him and thus draws us into a political conflict with no way back."
Henry straightened sharply. "And what have we been doing so far? Wasn't this a conflict? Wasn't there politics in it?"
"Son, of course it was important conflict to us, but struggles like those we went through are taking place all over the empire. From the high-nobility point of view, this was an insignificant skirmish, which importance was raised only by the fact that there were silver mines involved. But now we risk drawing the attention of the League of Lords…"
Henry jumped up and began pacing along the bed. He didn't like it at all that the war that had turned his life upside down had been called insignificant. He'd been through a lot in the last few months, broadening his horizons farther than he had ever dreamed, only to find out that there were new horizons behind each one of them, stretching so far that he could never see the end of them. Sometimes he missed his old life in the smithy, when his only concerns had been to get up early to avoid his father's wrath and figure out how to invite Bianca to another dancing.
Finally, he stopped, took a deep breath, sat down again and ran his hand through his hair. "Well, what am I supposed to do, father?"
"You? Nothing, Henry," said Radzig and shook his head.
"Then why are you telling me about this?" Henry frowned.
"To make sure you do exactly that. I want you to realize how serious the situation is and act accordingly. Be restrained. Thoughtful. Do not draw attention to yourself. Look around you, listen. And before you do anything, think!" Henry was about to protest, but Radzig's raised hand stopped him. "Otto von Bergow is a very powerful man. Everything you do can and will have greater consequences than ever before."
"Even when we get a little drunk in Kuttenberg? Sir Capon have heard about their excellent beer and –"
"Henry!" Radzig's voice cracked like a whip. "This is a serious matter!"
"I know, I know," assured him Henry, "really. I've heard everything you said and believe me, I won't have a good night's sleep for a few days thinking about everything."
His father frowned for a moment, then continued: "There is one more thing. I have known Bergow personally since the time I have been a courtier of king Wenceslas. Our relationship was only a small step away from openly hostile. So it would not be wise to mention you are my son."
"Another enemy of yours? You seem to be making them in numbers. What happened between you?"
Radzig shrugged. "Nothing too personal. But even then Bergow already have had a great influence. He made it clear to all of the king's favorites of the lower nobility what he thought about us. Some got out of his way, others did not. I counted myself among the latter."
Henry nodded. He could understand that kind of hostility. "Fine, thanks for the warning, father. I promise to be careful." And he meant it. Radzig's words worried him and reminded him again how little he knew. His head was spinning from thinking about the tangled relationships and conspiracies between the Luxembourgs and assorted nobles. And as it turned out now, the most sensible thing would be to go somewhere far away and wait for it to be over. But it was too late for that.
Radzig stood up and stretched. "Well, I have delayed you long enough. I should go." But he stopped halfway through to the door and made a small gesture, as if he remembered something.
"One more thing: Do you have any money?"
Henry just laughed: "Don't worry, I have saved some. It will be enough for the trip. Good night, father."
"Good night, Henry."
The horses were stomping nervously, tossing their heads and flicking their tails. The sun barely climbed over the edge of the city walls, but its rays were already warming Henry's face, suggesting that today would be another hot summer day. Henry was very glad that he didn't have to ride in armor that day. But he had it packed on the back of a packhorse. In case it would be needed.
Sir Hanush and his father came to see them off. The lord of Rattay was giving some last advice to Sir Capon who was already sitting in the saddle and nodding with distant look.
Radzig was silent, but his face was furrowed with worry. He walked over to Henry and hugged him briefly. "Take care of yourself, son."
Henry patted his father on the shoulder and smiled. Then he noticed that Sir Capon was waving furiously at him and pointing to his horse. So he mounted.
"Goodbye, father. We'll be back before you know it." He waved one last time, spurred his white charger and off they went.
"Finally!" cried Hans Capon as they rode through the upper gate of Rattay and headed for Neuhof. "I thought uncle wouldn't stop his preaching. Can you believe he came to me last night and stayed until the bell rang? I swear my ears were ringing too."
"Tough luck," Henry sympathized with him, "Sir Radzig also visited me. But he left early enough."
"You've always been the lucky one, Henry," Capon shook his head. "But, we have them off our backs for at least a week now. Maybe even fortnight if we go about this right. Lets go!" And he spurred his horse to trot.
Henry just laughed and followed him. His father's warning was still sounding in his ears, but he was determined to enjoy this opportunity to travel and worry about Bergow and Trosky when they got there.
On the evening of the first day, they arrived in Kuttenberg There were still a few hours left until sunset, but they decided not to continue and try the famous local inn. As they entered the city, Henry could not take his eyes off a cathedral towering over the river. The building was far from finished, there was scaffolding everywhere, but it was still more impressive than the monastery in Sasau which, until today, was Henry's model for lavish architecture.
"I bet you have never seen anything like it, eh?" grinned Sir Capon. "I've heard they are building even bigger one in Prague."
Henry just muttered something incomprehensible. He hated when Capon mocked his lowly origins. Still, he kept looking at everything and marveled at every sight.
At the inn, the innkeeper came out to meet them before they could dismount. He appraised their entire company with one experienced look. Sir Capon threw him a small pouch, which jingled on impact. Henry saw the man's eyes widen and then he bowed obligingly.
"Accommodation and dinner for six," Capon announced. "One room for the two of us, but something better if you will." He pointed at Henry and himself.
"Of course, sir. As you wish."
"And now we wonder where are the baths located in this town."
"Down by the river. I'll send my son with you, he'll show you the way," hurried the innkeeper. A ten-year-old boy appeared at his call. He bowed awkwardly and then waited for them by the gate while they took everything they needed from their bags.
"Wait, sir, we have to take care of the horses," Henry tried to stop Capon.
"Nonsense, them there will do it," said Capon, waving at the grooms and tossing a few coins to them.
"You four will keep an eye on things here," the nobleman addressed their entourage. "Food and drinks are on me today but don't overdo it," he instructed them, then turned and headed for the gate.
Henry just shook his head at such high-handed manners. But he had to admit that this way of traveling had its advantages. Whenever he had traveled alone before, he had had to take care of everything and had slept many times with saddlebags under his head to make sure no one robbed him. His determination to enjoy this trip only intensified.
They weaved through the alleys of the city following the boy who walked confidently a few steps in front of them. Henry was amazed by the size of the city and the number of people who moved in all directions. After a while, his neck started to hurt as he kept turning his head this way and that so he could see everything. He noticed that Hans Capon also looked around him with interest. Henry thought that while the nobleman tried to act worldly and experienced, he probably didn't get out of Rattay too much. Eventually, their eyes met and they both laughed.
Soon they were standing in front of the baths. Sir Capon handed the boy a coin and promised him another one if he returned for them. Then he turned to Henry:
"Henry, I hope you have got your own money. My uncle gave me some to pay for food and accommodation, but drinks and wenches I have to pay for myself."
Henry rolled his eyes. Why is everyone interested in his money? "I've got enough," he assured Capon. "But I'm done with women. Now that I'm engaged to Teresa, I don't think it's right to cheat on her like that."
"What?" spluttered Capon. "You are engaged? How did that happen?"
Henry blushed and looked away. "Somehow it just worked out that way," he muttered. He regretted saying anything at all.
"Are you planning a wedding?"
"No, not yet. But I mean to marry her, someday," said Henry defiantly.
Capon just laughed and shook his head. "Look at you, all serious suitor. Well, I won't pressure you, but mark my words – it'll be a long wait."
Henry wanted to tell him that he was definitely not holding on to celibacy with Teresa but he changed his mind in time. Sir Capon, meanwhile, entered the baths and began haggling with the owner about the price of the bath and asked if she had any girls willing to do more that just bathing. Henry thought the day sir Capon refused wine and women's company, he would start to worry about him.
All he paid for was a bath and a washing of his sweaty shirt. Then he sat in his tub in a tent, clenching his teeth, trying not to listen to the giggles and sighs coming from the tent next door. After a while, he couldn't stand it anymore and ordered a jug of wine to improve his mood. It was surprisingly good.
In the end, he left the spa in high spirits and he didn't even mind sir Capon – apparently also fortified by wine – extolling the charms and virtues of the Kuttenberg girls. A stray thought crossed his mind – that perhaps the son of the innkeeper, walking again a few steps in front of them, was too young to listen to such kind of talk. But he immediately calmed his conscience by thinking that he had to be used to many things from growing up the inn and devoted himself to more pleasant thoughts about how he had said goodbye to Teresa the day before.
It got a little colder outside with sunset and Henry sobered a bit on the way to the inn. He also realized that he had not heard Capon's voice in a while. A similar problem seemed to affect the young nobleman.
"Now what, sir? I guess it's time to taste the famous local beer," asked Henry as they went through the gate to the inn's courtyard.
"High time indeed, Henry!"
And so they went and had a taste.
Henry later took comfort in the fact that Kuttenberg was a fairly large city in which no one knew them and which they wouldn't visit for a while. The innkeeper saw them out in the morning with a strange wooden expression on his face, but at least the two heavy pouches he held tightly in his hands closed his mouth. The groomsmen and the girls from the kitchen had no scruples and no incentive to stay silent and so they stood in huddles, whispering and laughing. Henry's ears burned and he decided that if they ever came back to town, they would definitely have to stay somewhere else.
He remembered quite a lot from the previous evening. Unfortunately. It was indisputable that they had really enjoyed themselves. But while Capon's memory had mercifully left him at the highest point of the night, Henry could recall the moment when the pink puff of drunkenness had swelled into a black cloud of heavy intoxication.
The worst of it all had been when another innkeeper's son had woken them in the morning and found them lying on the floor in a tangle of blankets and limbs. The young man had stared at them with wide eyes, then turned and ran away before Henry could say anything. He and Capon had quickly reached a unanimous agreement that no one would mention this, ever, and therefore it had not actually happened. It was a pity that the lad had not been present to this agreement.
Sir Capon finally emerged from behind the stable where he went to relieve himself. How, he didn't say, but from his pale, greenish face, Henry was fairly sure of what had happened there. With great relief, he finally mounted his horse. The innkeeper bowed to them, they nodded to him, very carefully, and then, thank God, set off.
They rode in silence for a while. Henry's glance wandered from one building to another, but he didn't really notice them. His eyes burned and the sun beat down mercilessly, drying his already dry mouth. His hand dropped to a water skin and he drank again.
"My head hurts so much," whimpered Capon suddenly.
"Mine too," replied Henry hoarsely. He cleared his throat and spat, but it didn't help much.
"But what a night it was, eh? We wouldn't get away with this in Rattay. Hanush would chew us out both," laughed Capon weakly and then coughed as well.
"Yeah. I hope he never finds out," agreed Henry. Then he leaned out of the saddle and threw up.
Later that morning, they arrived at the Elbe in Kolin. Henry found himself staring again with his mouth open and, for a moment, he even forgot about his terrible hangover. Water flowed lazily in a wide riverbed, which seemed twice as wide as the one of the Sasau river. He hesitated for a moment before guiding his horse onto the wooden bridge. Its planks and beams still shone with novelty, but the bridge just seemed too long for Henry to trust it. His eyes inadvertently sought every gap between the planks. He examined their width, watched the flowing water below and, as they crossed a particularly large one, goosebumps appeared on his arms and his stomach clenched even more.
He was already breathing fast by the time they were in the middle of the bridge and felt like fainting. With great effort, he forced himself to look away and stared instead at the church tower on the opposite bank. The rest of the way across the river, Henry focused solely on preventing his disobedient eyes from turning down.
As the hollow clatter of hooves changed to a muffled thud on solid ground, he breathed a sigh of relief, closed his eyes and rested his head on the horse's neck.
"What is it, Hal?" Sir Capon's voice came from behind. "You should be feeling better by now, not worse."
Henry straightened and waved his hand vaguely behind him. "On the bridge – when there are gaps where you can see all the way down…" He shuddered and sighed. "It makes me sick."
Sir Capon stared at him with raised eyebrows and Henry wondered whether he thought he lost his mind. But then the young nobleman patted him on the back.
"Well, it takes all sorts," said Capon graciously, "I, for one, feel sick looking at spiders."
Henry moved a bit and tried to find a better position. Hay prickled him in the back and one of his fellow sleepers snored loudly. Despite his previous fatigue, he couldn't fall asleep now. Accommodation for that night didn't poses the same qualities as the one in Kuttenberg, although Henry had to admit that only the four guards from their entourage could really compare it. Sir Capon and he – he stopped there and quickly forced himself to think of something else.
They hadn't traveled too far that day. Anything faster than walk had been to much and the headache had quickly become unbearable. And so, at the sunset, they had reached the town Königstadtl and decided to find a place to stay. There had been only one inn in the town and when Henry remembered the rooms on offer he shuddered. They had exchanged a single glance with Sir Capon and it had been clear to them that they would sleep elsewhere.
They had continued towards Jičín and Trosky. Henry had soon begun to regret this decision. The night spent carousing had taken its toll and he could barely keep his eyes open. He had closed them for a moment and his head had dropped. When he'd felt he couldn't stand it anymore, a farmstead had appeared in front of them. After a short consultation, they'd decided that they would either sleep there or in the woods. The surprised farmer had wanted to turn them away at first, but after sir Capon had showed him a few coins, he'd sent them to a barn, horses and all. There was no other place for them.
Henry rolled from his back to lay on his side and found himself looking into Sir Capon's open eyes. At least, he thought them open. He watched him for a moment.
"I can't sleep," whispered Capon, "it stinks in here. And that hay is prickling me in places I don't care to name."
Henry laughed softly. "I've slept in far worse places." Then he listened for a moment. "Besides, I think it's started to rain. Had you been sleeping under a tree now, you would long for a stinking barn, sir."
"Of course, for a peasant like you, it's a real palace."
Henry didn't answer to that. He had already learned that when sir Capon attacked his origins, he usually tried to hide nervousness or distract from an unpleasant topic. Instead, he asked:
"What's the matter, sir?"
The answer was just a sigh and then the nobleman turned to lay on his back. Between the loud snores of one of the guards, Henry heard Sir Capon breathing and swallowing, as if finding the resolve to speak. He waited patiently, but at the same time he thought hard about what, for God's sake, had Capon on his mind. The nobleman usually had no problem saying what he thought. In the end, sir Capon found his voice:
"Hal, I'm afraid of what will happen when we reach Trosky."
Henry just raised an eyebrow. Was that the reason why Capon had been chewing his tongue for so long? He was taking a breath to deliver a mocking remark, but fortunately Capon continued before he could say anything ill-advised.
"I hear you making fun of me in your head. And laugh all you will. But this time the responsibility lies with me. Only me. There's no one to cover my back if something goes south."
"You have me, sir," said Henry.
"I'm sorry, Henry, but you don't know a shit about these things. Even less than I do. We're not dealing with some second-rate baron from who-knows-where, damn it! I would only be more nervous if we went to see the king himself. Fuck!" he moaned.
Henry had noticed another thing – the more nervous Capon was, the more vulgar was his speech. But, to be fair, he himself was the same way. He had no idea what to say.
"But what exactly are you afraid of, sir? We only have to deliver the letter. Under which we aren't even signed. Isn't there some rule that messengers must not be killed?"
"I'm not worried about my life, you dolt. But if Otto von Bergow decides that he doesn't like me, he can screw my reputation in front of the king," replied Capon. "And it really doesn't matter which king that would be," he added after a while. "What if he arranges for me not to be recognized as an adult?"
"Can he even do such a thing?" asked Henry. "Isn't there a law or something for that?"
"I don't know – maybe he can't. But he could certainly arrange for it to drag on. My uncle told me a lot about him. That man had his fingers in everything important that happened at the king's court. It seems to me that he can do anything he wants. Shit. Why did I volunteer to go!?"
Henry wondered for a moment whether he should reach out to sir Capon and squeeze his hand in support, but then he remembered last night and decided to keep his hands to himself. He quickly tried to console the nobleman:
"I'm sure you paint it too black, sir. Yes, my father warned me about Bergow too. We'll simply be as polite as we can and there'll be no drinking and wenching. No political opinions either. We pass the letter, then we hide somewhere until the answer is ready. And then we take it and hurry back." As he was saying it, Henry had a feeling he sugar-coated it too much. And Capon seemed to think so, too.
"You don't really believe this drivel, do you? Something will go wrong, I know it."
"Well, sir, I'd say it's too late to back off now." Henry tried to sound as cheerful as he could while whispering.
"Thank you, Henry. That really helped." Sarcasm almost dripped from Capon's voice.
Silence fell then, broken only by the snoring and occasional snort or thump of a hoof on the ground. Henry hoped they had not awakened their companions. They tried to whisper, but Capon's voice in particular went to a higher pitch now and then. Henry tried to find some words to encourage Capon. He didn't want to end the conversation like that.
"Look, sir, whatever happens, you can count on me. We're in this together."
Capon was silent for a moment, then replied: "Thank you, Henry. We do everything together, agreed?"
"Agreed," replied Henry immediately.
"Good."
Then Henry heard a rustle as Capon changed his position again, this time with his back to him – a sign that the conversation was over. Henry also turned around and finally managed to find a comfortable position. The whole conversation aroused fears which he had successfully suppressed until now. Despite his uneasy thoughts, he was finally overcome by sleep.
There was still light in the upper castle in Rattay. Two noblemen sat in the banquet hall, holding wine cups in their hands. There were three empty jugs on the table in front of them and one half full. Neither the guards nor the servants were in sight, so the more heavily-built of the two men reached out for a jug and refilled both cups.
"We really did not think this through, did we, Radzig?" he said after he had a drink.
"It seems that this idea cannot be ranked among our best, my friend," replied Radzig and also took a swig.
"When Jobst and I wrote the letter, it seemed simple and natural. Just one nobleman writing to another. No ill will, we are only asking justified questions. And when Hans volunteered to deliver the letter, I thought it would be a great experience for him."
"I am afraid, Hanush, that margrave Jobst played us quite neatly. As is his wont. He started one of his games and we jumped right in. Like inexperienced boys." Radzig sighed and tilted the wine glass again.
Hanush of Leipa fidgeted in his chair and snorted in annoyance. Then he looked into his cup and found that it was empty again. He hesitated for a moment, then refilled it. He offered this service to Radzig, who also thought for a while but finally nodded. They smiled grimly at each other and drank. The fourth and last jug soon stood empty.
"If we go on like this, we will end up like those two young rascals," Hanush remarked.
"How well is your cellar stocked?" asked Radzig.
"Not well enough to drink like this every day."
"So the day after tomorrow?"
"The day after tomorrow," confirmed Hanush.
They both rose uncertainly from their chairs, staggered, and leaned against each other to keep their balance. Hanush then offered Radzig a guest room to sleep in and he gratefully accepted.