FOR MANY DAYS the castle was quiet. We servants went about our work, but with an undercurrent of tension. Everyone had been so confident. But no one really knew who would ride back to the castle gates. Would it be Prince Václav—or Duke Arnulf?
I found that I greatly missed my late night sessions with Václav and the priests. For, of course, while he and Žito were gone from the castle, Father Pavel and Father Balád could not risk sneaking in. Their connection with sympathetic nobles or night guards was gone.
I had thought I might be able to catch up on some sleep during those days, but out of habit I awakened each night. Usually I tossed and turned in place, but one night I crept up the stairs to the tower where Václav’s chapel stood empty. The candles were unlit, and the faint light from the waning moon barely outlined the shadowy form of the altar rail.
Kneeling, I folded my hands as I had seen Václav do, bowed my head, and closed my eyes.
I wanted to say something, but I wasn’t sure what. The gods I knew of were wrathful and bloodthirsty. They punished those who did not sacrifice to them. I had learned what little I knew from my mother and from a pagan priest of the old religion who lived in the forest near my home. He had told me about the annual winter sacrifice to the forest god.
“The sacrifice,” he had said, “has to be a boy, about your size.” His stare penetrated me, as if he were baring my soul.
“A b-boy?” I had stammered.
“Yes.” His grin revealed rotten teeth. “If your mother dies this winter, then maybe it will be you!”
I ran all the way home to my frail mother. That night was the first time our cottage had not seemed safe.
The following spring my mother did die. A year had passed since then.
Why was I remembering this? All I had intended was to ask Václav’s God to protect the prince.
“God of Václav,” I whispered, swallowing. Would he punish me if I said the wrong thing? “I am Poidevin, a lowly slave. I do not know you, but I know Prince Václav, and that he is just and good. Would you please watch over him and protect him from his enemies?”
I was very, very careful not to say anything evil against the Bavarians, since Václav had told me many times how his God wanted him to love even his enemies. Though I didn’t expect an answer, I waited for a few minutes. All was quiet; maybe I was safe. At least fire had not come down from the sky to devour me. Sighing, I hurried back to bed.
The longest fortnight of my life dragged on between the time of my prayer and the arrival of a messenger at the castle. He proclaimed that Prince Václav’s army had successfully repelled the invading Bavarians.
“So soon?” Duchess Dragomíra wondered aloud. She looked at Boleslav beside her, who had not gone with the army. Did Dragomíra think he was yet too young to fight? He and I were the same age, and I would have gladly fought at Prince Václav’s side.
Boleslav shrugged. “Perhaps the Bavarians didn’t want to fight after all.”
I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying something to Boleslav. Did he hate his brother so much that he would make his great accomplishment look like nothing?
“Well,” said Dragomíra, rising, “we must prepare a banquet for the returning victors.” Her voice was cheerful, though I could see annoyance in the tightness of her mouth.
“All, my lady?” I asked before I could control my tongue. My shoulders hunched in anticipation of her reaction.
Instead of turning on me, the Duchess actually laughed. “No, boy. Our kitchen cannot feed an entire army in this one room. But we will honor the army’s commander and his battle chiefs with a feast. The soldiers will be fed, never fear.”
I wondered what kept her from striking me for my impertinence. But I felt relief, nonetheless.
Late the following afternoon, a lookout spotted the approaching army, and everyone in the castle swarmed the battlements to greet the victorious soldiers. I shielded my eyes against the bright sun, straining to catch a glimpse of Prince Václav.
At last I could see the mass of soldiers, horses, and carts. Banners waved in the breeze. Sunlight reflected like a swarm of fireflies off metal helmets and weapons. Where was the prince?
Some in the crowd apparently saw him before I did.
“Václav!” they shouted. I joined in the chant. “Václav! Václav!”
From somewhere in the back galloped Prince Václav on his black horse, taking his place in front to lead the army home.
The roar was deafening as we stamped our feet, adding to the voices. We did not stop until the prince had ridden through the gate, followed by his battle chiefs. I watched just long enough to see that camps were being set up in the fields before I ducked and squirmed through the crowd to get to the great hall before Václav did.
I scurried to take my place behind Dragomíra and closest to Přibislava just before the doors opened and the returning heroes entered. Václav strode toward his mother, still wearing his mail and armed with sword and dagger, but he had laid aside his helm and lance.
He smiled at Přibislava and cast a glance at me, it seemed, before he turned to his mother and went down on one knee.
“With the help of the Most High God I have defended the land against its enemies.” His voice, almost a shout, rang out clear and strong to everyone in the room.
“Are the Bavarians destroyed, or returned to their own land?” Dragomíra asked.
Václav stood. He was tall enough that he did not have to look up at his mother, even though she sat in a chair raised on the dais. “After fighting for many days, they retreated from our superior forces. There was no need to destroy them.”
Boleslav looked as if he wanted to say something, but Dragomíra stayed him. “Do you have proof they returned to Bavaria?” she asked.
Silence hung in the air. Even her loyal voyvodes looked shocked that the duchess would so insult the prince.
Václav broke the tension with a laugh. “Did you expect the head of Arnulf for a trophy, Mother?” He shook his head and pulled a scroll from his belt, tossing it on the table between them. “Here is a pledge in Arnulf’s own hand not to breach our border again.”
Dragomíra picked up the scroll, opened it, and scanned the writing. The prince glanced at me. His eyes twinkled.
“Well done, Václav,” the Duchess finally said. “Let the feasting begin.”
I silently cheered when Václav sat down, not at the head table with his mother and her loyal followers, but at the lower tables, among his battle chiefs.
I could hardly wait for the feast to end and the wee hours of the night to begin.