The early April wind cut through Johan’s thin shirt, but he suppressed a shiver and ignored the passersby’s stares. With his father and sister, he was waiting in the Wawel Castle courtyard for Hans’s cousin, Noah, the stablemaster.
The Hirschberg’s clothing was tattered, and their faces bore the grime of a long journey through foul weather. Annalisa huddled on the wagon seat wrapped in a blanket, and Johan stood with his father beside the battered cart. Their horse’s once-sleek coat was dull and splattered with mud. His head hung low.
Johan stared at their surroundings, awed by the enormous palace. In front of them was a three-story stone building with bronze-topped towers at each corner. Behind the building stood another with a massive red brick tower. Brilliant red tile covered the roofs.
To the left, a magnificent cathedral reached into the gray sky, its towers crowned by statues and crosses. Against the cathedral’s wall stood a magnificent stone building with a gold-domed roof. Scaffolds rose against one end of the courtyard where not yet completed galleries rose three stories into the sky. Workers rushed back and forth like ants preparing for winter amidst piles of materials and lumber and a cacophony of shouts and hammering.
Soon the servant who’d met them at the gate returned with Noah, Onkle Hans’s cousin. Noah was not young; his brown beard had white streaks, and lines and crease seamed his face. His eyes were kindly though.
“I am Noah Semmelweiss.” His gaze flitted from them to the horse and the cart. “They told me you asked for me. How may I help you?”
Samuel reached out his hand. “I am Samuel Hirschberg, Hans Semmelweiss’s brother-in-law.”
“Samuel Hirschberg?” Noah stepped closer and grasped Samuel’s hand. “What are you doing so far from Basel? And how are Hans and Elspeth?”
Samuel glanced around at the many people filling the courtyard. “We will speak of them later if you don’t mind. I am wondering if the king has a need for a good farrier and if you might have a place of rest for my children.”
“Ah, yes.” Noah smiled. “Hans told me of your work in his letters. Magnificent horses fill the king’s stables. Work for a craftsman such as you is always available.” He reached for the horse’s reins. “Come with me. You can stay at my house while you get established. It will delight my wife, Margot, to have visitors from the homeland.”
Noah led them and the horse across the courtyard and out through a gate on to a street. After a short walk, they came to a large house. Noah pointed to a gate at the side.
“You can put the cart in there. I have a small stable with a stall for your horse.” Noah helped Annalisa out of the cart. “Come, little one. You look tired. Let my Margot make you some of her delicious rabbit stew. After that, you can rest.”
Johan sat on a stool, watching Noah’s wife, Margot, a plump, pleasant middle-aged woman, bustle from one end of the kitchen to the other. She stirred this pot and then another, out of which crept wonderful smells. Between stirrings, she kneaded the dough for Zopf bread.
“My mother made the best Zopf bread in the Canton of Basel-stadt,” Johan whispered.
Margot smiled. “Where is your mother?”
Annalisa looked stricken as Johan replied. “We buried her in Görlitz. She died at Christmas.”
Annalisa looked at Johan and then put her face in her hands and wept. Margot stopped what she was doing and came to Annalisa. She enfolded her in a great embrace. “There, there, little one. I am so sorry. Do not weep.”
Margot’s soft lap and soothing voice soon comforted the girl. Johan watched, feeling very detached.
I wish I had someone to comfort me…
Margot asked Annalisa to help her, making room for her at the breadboard where she showed the girl how to plait the dough into woven loaves. With Annalisa occupied, Margot sliced sausage, adding the thick chunks one by one to the stew. She popped a sausage slice into Annalisa’s mouth and handed one to Johan. Noah and Samuel came into the kitchen and they all sat at a rough wooden table. Noah prayed before they ate and then turned to Johan’s father. “So Samuel, tell me of Hans and Elspeth and why you have come to Krakow.”
Samuel lowered his head. “I am sorry to tell you Hans and Elspeth are dead.” Margot gasped while Noah stared at Samuel with disbelief written on his face. Johan stared down at his plate.
“Dead? But how, when?”
“The Catholics killed them in the Basel persecutions a year ago, after the Reformists turned them over for rejecting infant baptism.” There was silence, broken only by muffled snuffling from Annalisa. Margot looked away as she wiped tears from her eyes with the corner of her apron.
Samuel went on. “The next day they scoured the city arresting Anabaptists, and we fled that night. Before he died, Hans told me to come and find you. We escaped from Basel with little but our lives. On the way…” He paused… “Mareili became ill…” His voice sunk to a whisper. “She died in Görlitz. We had to wait until the roads were passable to continue our journey, and now… well, here we are.”
Annalisa’s snuffling turned to open sobs.
Margot lifted Annalisa from her chair and pulled her onto her lap. Holding her close, she rubbed the girl’s back, rocking her back and forth. Tears were running down Margot’s face.
When Anna’s sobs stilled, Margot glanced at Noah, who nodded. She managed a smile as she spoke to Samuel. “We built this big house thinking we would fill it with children, but the Lord had something else for us. Noah’s job provides our needs and more. We would love to have you stay in our home.”
“Yes.” Noah agreed. “It would honor us.”
“We have been here ten years,” Margot said, “and we miss Switzerland. We wanted to stay, but with the peasants’ revolt and the religious turmoil we desired a peaceful place to raise children, so we came here. Then we had no children.” Margot sighed. “The Poles are nice people, but we will always be outsiders. They are Catholics, and we are not. However, we do not speak of our faith. As long as the work gets done and Noah takes good care of his horses, Sigismund does not pry into our private lives.
Noah nodded. “Yes, it is good work. But as Margot says, we miss home.”
Margot looked at the little girl on her lap. “You have brought Switzerland to us. If you lived with us, we would speak our native language, eat Swiss foods and enjoy our country’s music and dances.” She kissed Annalisa on the forehead. “And I could have a girl to mother and a strong son to make me proud. Please stay.”
Samuel nodded, tears in his eyes. “Your kindness is overwhelming. We will accept your offer, at least until I get on my feet… that is if my children agree.”
Annalisa looked at the tender face above her. She climbed down and threw her arms around Samuel’s neck. “Oh, yes, Papa. Please!”
“Johan, what say you?”
Johan shrugged. These people were nice, but he missed his mother and aunt and uncle and the mountain. “Whatever you wish, Papa.”
Samuel eyed him for a moment. “Fine, then. That settles it. We will stay.”
The Hirschbergs soon settled into a routine in their new city. Samuel worked in the blacksmith shop at the castle, shoeing horses and tending the forge. Noah hired Johan to muck the stalls and feed and care for the many beautiful animals that filled the stables. Johan had a natural love for horses so he didn’t mind the work. He developed a good rapport with the others who tended the king’s mounts and quickly learned the Polish language. One day, soon after they arrived and just when he thought life in Krakow might be tolerable, he walked around a corner, a full manure bucket in each hand, and crashed into a young girl, knocking her down and splattering her dress. Johan set the buckets down and reached to help her, but she rose on her own, her eyes flashing fire.
“You ignorant stable boy!” She spat the words at him. “Look what you’ve done to my dress. Why don’t you watch where you are going?”
“I’m very sorry.” he ducked his head. “I should have been watching.”
The girl’s face was red, and she trembled from head to toe. “Do you know who I am?”
“No, I don’t.” Johan smiled. “I’m new here. I do not know you.” Then a memory came to him of a girl watching out a window on the day they arrived.
“Wait! Yes, I know you. You’re the peeking girl.”
The girl’s face turned even redder, and she pulled herself to her full height, chin lifted. She looked to be about thirteen. “I am not ‘the peeking girl!’ I am Princess Isabella, daughter of the king. You have dared to soil my person with your filth, and then you presumed to touch me. You are a filthy, ignorant, disgusting stable boy, and you will beg my pardon, now.”
He stepped back. “I beg Your Majesty’s pardon for deigning to touch your most sacred person.”
You silly spoiled creature...
“And I have soiled your wonderful dress. For that, I am deeply repentant.” He bowed low. “If you cannot forgive me, Your Highness, I don’t know how my life will be worth living.” He straightened, a smile tugging at his lips.
You are beautiful though...
“Ooh, you, you…” Isabella raised her hand to slap him, but Johan caught her wrist and stared down into her eyes without speaking.
Isabella struggled for a moment and then burst into tears. Wrenching her hand away, she turned and ran back the way she had come.
The unfortunate meeting with the princess concerned Johan, but no one at the stable approached him regarding the matter, and so nothing came of the incident. But Johan remembered the collision with the imperious young woman for two reasons—the sting of her insults, and her beauty. She was the loveliest girl he had ever seen.
The next two years passed quickly. Johan had many opportunities to show his extraordinary skill with horses and soon Noah elevated him to second groom. On a bright day in April 1533, Johan, now sixteen, hurried through the stables. Excitement almost crackled in the air as he rounded the corner and saw Noah standing on a box in the courtyard's center, instructing all the workers who had gathered around. “Suleiman the Magnificent has sent a wonderful stallion to Sigismund. We have made all the preparations, but I want you to go now and make sure we have overlooked nothing.” He pointed to two workers. “You two, make sure the special stall we had built is without blemish.” He waved his hands with excitement. “The horse will arrive in an hour. The rest of you must gather in the courtyard for the presentation.”
Noah turned to Johan. “Because of your horse-handling skills, Johan, I want you beside me. But you must be very careful, for the stallion is young and full of spirit.”
When he arrived in the courtyard, it surprised Johan to see Princess Isabella standing to one side with her father. He had not seen her since the incident in the stable. A wimple secured by a pearl tiara covered her long dark hair and she was wearing a white gown. He whispered to Noah. “I have not seen Princess Isabella for a long time. Where has she been?”
Noah’s gray-flecked eyebrows clumped. “You know the princess?”
Johan smiled at the memory. “We met once in the stable.”
Then the gates to the castle opened and trumpets blared. The Ottoman ambassador rode through on a mighty white charger, followed by a retinue of mounted Turkish soldiers. Behind the ambassador came an ornate closed-in van. From within came a shrill scream and the thud of hooves striking the walls. The ambassador bowed.
The Ottoman ambassador’s salutation to Sigismund was long and flattering. Johan shifted from foot to foot, eager to see this beautiful horse.
“As a token of the friendship between the two great kings of eastern Europe, Suleiman the Magnificent wishes to present to Sigismund the Supreme a stallion from his private stables. The horse’s name is Al-Buraq in honor of the wonderful magic horse that bore Muhammed from Mecca to Jerusalem in one night. That same blood flows in this young stallion’s veins. Behold, Al-Buraq, king of horses.” The ambassador swept his arm back and bowed low.
Two dark-skinned slaves dressed all in white livery and wearing golden turbans, lowered the ramp, opened the doors of the van, and stepped inside. Moments later, they emerged leading a black stallion by a rope attached to a jewel-encrusted bridle.
His smooth coat glistened beneath the sunlight. When they led him down the ramp, he stopped, looked at the crowd and reared, his shrill whistle echoing between the courtyard walls.
His nostrils curled, and his eyes were so wide the whites showed. As he came down, he lashed out, knocking the grooms aside. Ears flat against his head, he charged straight toward the king and Isabella, who screamed and covered her eyes. Sigismund grabbed the princess and turned, shielding her with his body.
Johan leaped for the horse. He snatched the whipping rope and pulled the stallion’s head downward. The horse stumbled and halted, trembling from head to foot.
“Whoa, boy, whoa,” Johan murmured. “Settle down. You will be all right.” He raised his hand and the screams from the onlookers quieted.
The stallion tried to lift his head and rear again, but Johan held tight. Talking softly, he let the stallion lift his head high enough to look at him. After a moment, the horse nickered and stretched his nose out to smell Johan.
Johan stroked the black’s face, speaking in almost a whisper. After several more minutes, the horse calmed and stood quietly. The two grooms, now back on their feet, edged alongside them, and took the rope from Johan. Noah spoke with the two men who had prepared the stall and together with the slaves they led the stallion away. Johan watched them go. The horse was a beauty.
Someone touched his shoulder, and he turned to look into the king’s smiling face. Johan bowed.
Sigismund raised him by his arm. “Wonderful, my boy, wonderful! You saved my daughter’s life and mine. How can I repay you?”
Johan glanced at Princess Isabella.
She was staring at him with wide eyes. “You!”
Sigismund looked from Johan to her. “Do you know this boy, Isabella?”
Her face reddened. “We… we met once before in the stable.” She turned to Johan. “Thank you for saving our lives…” She paused, awkwardly.
“What is your name?” the king asked.
“Johan, Your Majesty. Johan Hirschberg.”
“That is not a Polish name. Where are you from?”
“From Switzerland, Your Majesty. Your stablemaster is my uncle’s cousin.”
As Johan stood beside the king, Sigismund looked around for his stablemaster. “Noah!”
Noah, who stood not far away, hurried to Johan’s side and bowed. “Yes, Your Majesty?”
Sigismund put his arm around Johan’s shoulder. “I want this young man to be the one to care for the stallion. And be sure to raise his wages. He is now a first groom.” He smiled at Johan. “You have earned my undying gratitude, Johan Hirschberg.”
Johan bowed. “That is most kind, Your Majesty, but I only did my duty.”
“Nonsense, my boy. I have seen nothing like the way you handled that horse.” Releasing Johan, he took Isabella by the arm. “Come, Isabella.”
The princess turned, then looked back at him. “Thank you again for what you did.” She paused. “I was unkind the last time we met. I apologize.”
Johan bowed again. “I have put your words as far from me as the east is from the west, Princess.”
Isabella nodded and walked away at her father’s side.
Johan stared after them.
Truth be told, I have never forgotten, Princess Isabella.