Chapter 4: Chapter 4: Reproval

Vanian Year 1104

 

The western reaches of Reichenau were dominated by vast farmlands.

 

A thousand hues of gold, basking in the sun. The land rolls into the horizon, like waves upon the sea, ears of wheat ruffled by the gentle breeze. The breadbasket of Vania stretched as far as the eye could see. It was impressive, because even against two decades of war, the continent was blessed enough with many rivers and bountiful fields that its people would never suffer the pains of want.

 

Sprouting up from the golden sea were the homes of those who harvested its bounty - farming towns built under the walls of castles dotting the plains. Against the level earth, they were easy to spot - bastions of dull stone that contrasted so greatly against their vibrant domains. 

 

Schönau was one of those bastions.

 

Built atop a bluff, the castle overlooked its domain like a lord atop their throne. As they approached the town, Marianne could see farmers already out in the fields, painstakingly harvesting the leagues of spring wheat with scythes and horse-drawn reapers. Following close behind the harvesters were oxen ploughs and those planting winter wheat, which would sleep under the soil through the winter before blooming in summer.

 

Then, the process of planting spring wheat would begin again. Reichenau and its western neighbours were agricultural kingdoms, and if there was one thing twenty years of warfare could do, it was necessitate the efficiency of agriculture.

 

“I have never seen so much grain in my lifetime, leydim!” one of the akıncı, Altın-Kanat Hirzyk, looked with wide eyes, “You could feed all of Kazimierz for years with a single harvest! You say these good farmers are planting wheat that can grow in winter as well?”

 

“Winter? That would take a miracle,” Marianne denied, “The seeds merely sleep under the soil, protected from the cold by the earth. Then when the spring thaw comes, they burst from the earth, and will be ready to harvest by summer.”

 

“The Kazimierzi once used these grasslands as highways to conquer Vania,” the other horseman, Koyun Markusz, shook his head, “Now we see that your people have conquered nature itself!”

 

“Do the Kazi… do your people not have farms, Mister Markusz?” Marie looked up from her mother’s lap.

 

“Of course we do,” Markusz said, “But certainly not like this. Our lands are not so fertile, and we certainly have no sleeping seeds. Instead, we use our grasslands as pastures for animals.”

 

“You give your land to animals?”

 

“That’s right, leydim,” Hirzyk put two fingers in his mouth and whistled, “Every Kazimierzi has two things; a horse and a sheep. If you don’t have either, can you really say you are Kazimierzi?”

 

“We guide our sheep to open pastures to feed,” Markusz explained, “And when the grass is gone, we take them somewhere else - and the cycle repeats. Much like how the Reicher cycles spring and winter wheat.”

 

“How do you control sheep?” Marie asked with wide eyes, “Aren’t they wild?”

 

“Yes, but they are also prey,” Hirzyk grinned, “That means they can be controlled by hunters.”

 

Suddenly, a screech tore through the skies overhead. Hirzyk raised his arm above just in time for a colossal bird to land on him. Its outstretched wings dwarfed Hirzyk’s body, covering him in shade. The bird must be at least seven feet from the tips of its wings, Marianne thought, and its golden plumage seemed to twinkle in the autumn sun. As the bird hopped up to Hirzyk’s shoulder, she noticed that a beaded string of small gems hung from its right ankle, ending in a tassel.

 

Even after seeing the golden eagle many times on their journey, the bird never fails to be breathtaking in its grace and beauty.

 

“Jadwiga here is my queen,” Hirzyk ruffled the bird’s feathers, “When she calls, the sheep run, and with our hounds and horses we can guide them to where we want them to go. Other people use dogs, and some can mimic the howls of wolves with only their mouths.”

 

“Sheep are easy to control,” Markusz said, “They will always follow whoever is in front of them. So once they get going, just walk in front of the herd and they will follow you.”

 

“Of course, you also have to protect your herd from wild hunters!” Hirzyk laughed, “And when the sheep come to trust you as their guardian, they will trust you to lead them wherever. You could say every man is their own king - king of sheep!”

 

As they rode through the castle down, Marianne could feel the many curious gazes set upon them. Like most farming settlements, Schönau was mostly isolated and received few visitors - and those who did were mostly travellers on the road wanting for a night's rest. But their party did not look like any weary travellers, for the two akıncı struck an intimidating sight - large men dressed in robe-covered mail with round shields on their backs. Small, composite bows were sheathed at their sides along with their quivers. 

 

Both also wielded shamshirs, exotic curved blades shaped like crescent moons. Not to mention the magnificent golden eagle perched atop Hirzyk’s shoulders. 

 

As expected, two local guardsmen approached them, gripping their halberds warily.

 

“Halt! Who goes there!?” 

 

Marianne pulled the reins of her horse and trotted forwards, “Marianne von Edelhardt-Schönau! First daughter of Landolf von Edelhardt-Schönau, Count of Schönau! Has my lord father not informed you that I have returned!?”

 

“L-Lady Edelhardt!” one of the guardsmen cried, hastily taking off his helmet, “You have returned!”

 

“Arwin!” Marianne manoeuvred her ride around him, “It is good to see you!”

 

“Go inform the lord at once!” Arwin ordered his partner, “Lady Edelhardt, I see you have guests! Please, follow me!”

 

Castle Schönau was built some five centuries ago by the local peoples in order to defend against the roving Kazimierzi horselords that once plagued this area. And as always, when there was a potential powerbase, there would be those who wielded power over others. Over time, a local family that came to be known as the House of Schönau took over, deriving their name from the castle itself. 

 

Now, the castle is used to oversee its lands and defend against bandits and grain thieves. Due to its age, the castle was built with outdated engineering - bearing squat, square towers that would prove ineffective compared to the circular towers more modern castles would have. Alas, the Schönaus have never had the need to renovate, for their lands were blissfully deep in the hinterlands of Reichenau.

 

After they dismounted in the inner bailey, a hostler took their horses to the stables.

 

As they entered the keep, an attendant met them in the gallery.

 

“Lord Edelhardt is waiting in the drawing room, meine Dame.”

 

“Thank you,” Marianne said, “We will meet him at once.”

 

As the servant departed, Arwin led them to the doors of the drawing room. Standing before the doors, Marianne took a deep breath, before realising a drawn sigh in an attempt to calm her nerves.

 

“Is the lord a bad man?” Marie asked, holding her mother’s hand.

 

“Marie!” Margareta hissed, but Marianne shook her head.

 

“He is a stiff man, who loves his duty as much as he loves his family,” she closed her eyes, “But he is not a bad man.”

 

Gathering her wits, she nodded to Arwin, who offered a reassuring smile and pushed open the doors. Striding in, she immediately spotted her father and her mother beside him. 

 

Lord Landolf used to be a larger man, Marianne noticed, but he has obviously lost weight, at least when compared to her hazy memories. His black hair was like a wet mop on his head, messily drooping over his eyes, and his moustache was as bold as she remembered. Mother was just as beautiful as ever, if a bit plumper than she remembered. Her red-brown hair that Marianne had inherited was tied into a braided bun, and she held the hand of a young boy Marianne did not recognise.

 

Stopping a few feet from her parents, Marianne lowered herself into a graceful curtsy - and held the position.

 

“I greet my lord father and my lady mother,” she paused, eyeing the boy at her mother’s feet, “And…”

 

“And the heir of this house,” father supplied.

 

“And my lord brother,” she finished, holding in her surprise.

 

When she left, Marianne was an only child, and the heir to the House of Schönau. It seems in the years that she was gone, mother had birthed her a younger brother - and in consideration with the laws of the realm - a male heir. 

 

“Rise,” father ordered.

 

Marianne rose. 

 

“Who are your guests?” mother asked, “Please, take a seat all of you.”

 

“Thank you, leydim,” Hirzyk bowed, and Jadwiga cawed, “I am Altın-Kanat Hirzyk, and my partner is Koyun Markusz. We were ordered to escort the ladies by our master Mızrak Pasha.”

 

“T-This one is Margareta of Olesnica,” Margareta curtsied, “This is my daughter, Marie.”

 

“Bird!” her little brother cried with glee, reaching up for Jadwiga, “Bird!”

 

Jadwiga cawed and ruffled her feathers, and Marianne daresay the bird looked proud that it was recognised.

 

“Romar!” mother pushed his hand down, “Forgive me, I have shown you something unsightly. Is your bird…?”

 

“Jadwiga is a polite girl,” Hirzyk smiled, “Fret not, we are only here for the ladies’ protection. There is no need to entertain us.”

 

At his words, Marianne noticed her parents’ eyes being drawn to the shamshirs at their waist. Both of them bowed, before moving to stand guard at the door next to Arwin. Mother glanced at them before swiftly picking up Romar and bringing him out of the room.

 

“I had hoped to know my new brother better,” Marianne commented as she sat down.

 

“You can do that later,” father gruffly said, “Right now, it’s about you.”

 

Marianne inwardly prepared herself for the storm of words that was expected to come. But to her surprise, father simply slumped on the couch and released a long, tired sigh.

 

“Did you know,” he asked, “That you seduced the Third Prince to run away from the palace with you?”

 

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“...Pardon?” she was taken aback by the outrageous claim, “I have done no such thing!”

 

Father slammed his fist down on the table, “It doesn’t matter that you say you didn’t, because you did! That is what Neuchatel told every holding in Reichenau!”

 

At the end of his tirade, father was all but shouting. With a sigh, he wiped his red face and slumped back down. Marianne sat in shocked silence, her mind at a loss for words even as she scrambled to reply. She knew she had done something, but she hadn’t realised it was something that she didn’t do! This was why everyone in Grenzmark were so interested in her - and pitied her once Julius explained what their quest was!

 

“B-But,” she stumbled on her words, “I-I didn’t do anything? I only thought-”

“I know you didn’t, Maria,” father groaned, “You are my daughter, I know who you are! But the realm doesn’t! This was the worst scandal the Montmollins ever had, they needed an excuse - and you were the perfect one. We have had our honours stripped from us, and our name dragged through the mud by high society. Our house has been ostracised by your actions!”

 

Marianne flinched. 

 

Suddenly, Margareta stood up, “Forgive me… if I could excuse ourselves?”

 

Lord Landolf glanced up at the woman, before nodding. Margareta wasted no time in sweeping Marie out of the drawing room, and Markusz left with her. 

 

As they sat in silence together, all she could hear was her father’s heavy breathing.

 

“W-Won’t the royal family retract that,” Marianne finally tried, “Now that they know the truth?”

 

“You are here,” father silenced her argument, “And not in Neuchatel. Admitting they were wrong would be a massive loss of pride and prestige, even if the entire realm knows it. Did you hear? Your engagement was broken. but the Prince still needs a wife. You are a smart girl, who do you think it will be?”

 

Marianne stared down at her lap, “There are countless women of marriageable age in Reichenau-”

 

“And which will the royal family choose?”

 

How was she to know? There are hundreds of noble debutantes every year, all with the lineage and honours to marry into the royal family. It wasn’t as if Julius was the first prince, which would reduce his pool of eligible brides drastically. No, he was the third prince - a spare, and that meant the royal family would be less stringent about his bride.

 

In fact, there have been cases before where third and fourth princes had married commoners.

 

Marianne glanced up to see her father staring at her intently. This was a test, she realised, but for what, she did not know.

 

Her mind raced through the possibilities - if father asked her such a question, it meant she knew the answer already. The king had broken their betrothal the moment he was informed of their return, and while that could be the result of carrying out the punishment of her so-called seduction, such a hasty action was not befitting of him. No, for the royal family to act so decisively, it meant they already have a suitable replacement.

 

Someone who they know for certain the third prince would accept.

 

And considering they did not know if Julius was ever going to return until Marshal Kleiber’s raven, that left only one option.

 

“Saintess Hildegard!” Marianne gasped, “He’s going to marry the Saintess. It would be a far more prestigious match, and neither would refuse. Furthermore, the marriage would tie Reichenau and Remscheid closer together. Now that the war is at an end, the royal family must already be thinking of the future, and the Holy City would be a powerful ally to boast of.”

 

Father stared at her strangely for a moment, and Marianne feared she had been deathly incorrect. But in the end, he nodded with satisfaction and leaned back.

 

“Correct,” he said, “But the Saintess is only one of many, it does not guarantee an alliance. No, the main reason is legitimacy. The Saintess has the patronage of many divines, all of whom grant the royal family legitimacy. As you know, the Montmollins were originally a Caroline house, and their reign has been… unstable, considering the pride of Reicher lords. With the divines at their back…”

 

“I understand, father,” Marianne lowered her head, “With the marriage, they could claim that they have the blessing of the divines.”

 

“And they could also sweep Prince Julius’ scandal under the rug with the event,” father pinched his moustache, “For no one would dare bring it up.”

 

“I… I understand,” Marianne swallowed thickly, “Then… what of me?”

 

Lord Landolf looked at her sharply, “I don’t know.”

 

“...Pardon?”

 

“You brother was born because I did not know whether you would return,” he explained, “You left behind a letter, yes, and I did not for a moment believe the royal family’s claims… but you understand, it was a most harrowing time.”

 

“I have no issue with my brother superseding me in the line of succession, father.”

 

Father regarded her, “I would prefer you to succeed me, however.”

 

“Pardon?”

 

“Despite your… actions, they were done in good faith,” he said, “And I know for certain you are a worthy heir. I have raised you well, and you are talented in both stewardship and diplomacy. Your brother, on the other hand…”

 

Her brother was of unknown quality, Marianne understood. Unlike her, who Lord Landolf had prepared for and groomed to be the heir of Schönau. Her brother, who was conceived in an unprepared and hasty decision, likely hasn’t the training and education that she had. However, he was only three years old at most, more likely two, there was still a future ahead of him.

 

“He is the rose of his mother’s eye,” father sighed, “She indulges him far too much, I fear, and I haven't the heart to stop her. Perhaps she fears he would grow to be like you, who I had allowed to be independent.”

 

Marianne inwardly cringed at the insinuation.

 

“For now,” he stood up, dusting off his trousers, “We wait - and pray - for favourable news from the Neuchatel. Perhaps our family name can be salvaged yet. If the royal family decides to remain on their hill, however, then I want you to live as if you’re dead, and make no trouble.”

 

Marianne stood up as well, “I understand, father.”

 

“In either case, I doubt you can be a bride anymore. Should I die before your brother is of age, then you shall be his regent, and I expect you to serve him to the best of your ability,” Lord Landolf’s eyes narrowed, “Even if that means disobeying him. For now, just try to get to know him.”

 

As her father turned to walk away, a sudden thought struck her.

 

“Pardon me, father, but may I take a look at your ledgers?”

 

“...Make yourself useful.”

 

Marianne curtsied, “Thank you.”

 

Hirzyk and Arwin opened the door for her as she left the drawing room, and she found Margareta and Markusz loitering in the gallery with Marie. They were pointing at the portraits of previous lords hung up on the walls.

 

“Lady Marianne!” Markusz noticed them first, “Any trouble?”

 

“None at all,” she replied smoothly, “I will make no move until we receive news of Prince Julius’ audience with the King. Lady Margareta, what have you decided upon?”

 

“If I may overstep my bounds, my lady,” Margareta lowered her head, “I wish to remain here and earn my keep.”

 

“Arwin, does my old governess still live here?”

 

“Lady Karla has been employed as little Lord Romarich’s tutor, my lady.”

 

“I’ll have to send her my greetings then, I cannot imagine she would be pleased with me,” Marianne smiled dryly, “In any case, ask if she can tutor Marie as well-”

 

“Oh, Lady Marianne, there's no need for that!” Margareta waved her hands around, “That would be most inappropriate-”

 

“Romar needs a playfellow, so it is no trouble,” Marianne dismissed her claim, “As for you… Arwin, please bring Margareta to the head maid first, see if there are any chores to be done.”

 

“Understood, meine Dame.”

 

“Thank you greatly, my lady.” Margareta bowed deeply, at an almost right angle.

 

“Thank you!” Marie echoed her mother.

 

Marianne smiled, waving as Arwin escorted them down the gallery, before turning to the two akıncı.

 

“Shall I bring you to the ravenry, so you can send word back to your master?” she asked.

 

“We would be most grateful, my lady.”

 

“I will prepare lodgings and hot water at once, does Jadwiga need anything?” she began leading them, “And may I know when you would prefer to depart?”

 

Hirzyk glanced at Markusz before answering, “Jadwiga can feed herself, my lady. I believe we will depart after Neuchatel’s raven arrives, to ease our conscience.”

 

“Of course,” she replied smoothly, “Stay as long as you wish, you are our guests after all.”

 

Marianne glanced out a window as they climbed up the stairs, and saw the skies a hundred shades of crimson. Hirzyk whistled, and Jadwiga shot out of the opening, screeching as she soared into the evenfall, sunlight gleaming off her wings.

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