"It's so damned frustrating, Tilda. A lifetime of loyalty, erased as if it meant nothing! He hasn't even asked me if there might be some other explanation than the one Richel is giving him. Every order he issues just feeds into another. But even if he arrests all of us, there's no evidence that could lead to a conviction. None."
"There is my connection to the English Ladies." Mechthilde gestured to the note that the guard's brother had delivered. "They can build on that; will build on that."
"It's not enough."
"There are the two women from Grantville."
"He can't prove a connection."
Mechthilde lifted her chin. "I provided refuge in our apartments in the Residenz for Doña Mencia de Mendoza. From the night the archduchess' disappearance was discovered; she came that evening. I had a place prepared for her. She remained for some time."
Duke Albrecht choked.
"She remained until we came to my brother's funeral. She came with us. She is here."
He looked at her, frozen. Then, "It is far too late for turning her over to Duke Maximilian to do us any good now. The game is too far in play. Why in hell did you do it?"
"I didn't assist the archduchess to leave. But I knew that she planned to. I wanted her to." She gripped his wrist fiercely. "For the boys, Albrecht. For the boys."
* * * *
He issued orders. Tomorrow, the ducal party would hunt. The day after, they would return to Munich.
The servants started packing.
He consulted with the chief huntsman. He wanted to take the boys along, he said, so he would prefer small game. A reasonable number of beaters.
Guests?
"No, I don't think so. Not so soon after Landgrave Wilhelm Georg's death. Just a private family party. But a nice one. The duchess will accompany us. A picnic lunch, please. Plan on a full day."
The carriage for the duchess?
"No, she will be riding with us. But, yes, bring the small carriage. Some of the ladies in waiting may not wish to ride."
* * * *
So it was decided. They were going. The question was, where? Which way? He sat down to figure that out.
Austria was not possible. Not only would it be hard to get there—most routes between Bavaria and Austria involved mountain passes at which Max's troops could cut them off—but also they would not be particularly welcome when they got there. Ferdinand II was not happy with Maximilian at the moment, but he wasn't particularly happy with any Bavarians.
Additionally, if they went into Austria, that would put Doña Mencia de Mendoza into the emperor's hands. They could not hide her forever. The simplest solution would be to have the old woman strangled, but he was incapable of ordering that.
Letting the old woman fall into Ferdinand II's hands would be equivalent to ordering her strangled. Except that Ferdinand, without doubt, would have her questioned first.
If he ordered her strangled, to be just, he would have to order Mechthilde strangled. She was far more culpable. And she was his wife.
The old woman, he was certain, knew what had happened. Where the archduchess had gone, and why. He had not asked her; it was something that he did not want to know. She knew that Mechthilde had been at least marginally involved. If they went to Austria and Ferdinand II had Doña Mencia questioned, it would have the same eventual effect as if he ordered Mechthilde strangled himself. Or as if they just stayed here and let Max arrest and imprison them.
Austria was impossible.
Tyrol was too far; same problem anyway—mountain passes. The same for Salzburg.
Passau, no good. First, Max's troops could cut them off at the choke point; second, the bishop was Ferdinand II's son.
* * * *
To Dachau. Then over to the Isar, through Freising and Landshut. To the Danube. Across. Into that neck of the Upper Palatinate that reached down toward Passau. Across it; into Bohemia.
Wallenstein. The King of Bohemia. Right now, Wallenstein offered the only possible sanctuary. The only one within reach. There was no time to feel him out first; no time to make an offer and receive a counter offer.
He could only hope that Wallenstein would consider that having all of Bavaria's heirs within his control was a sufficiently important diplomatic edge that he would leave them alive.
Albrecht had no illusions. If Wallenstein did not consider it important enough, they might all die at the end of that route, too.
* * * *
The hunting party rode out. A half hour later, all of Duke Albrecht's household guards rode out, as well. And waited.
Two hours later, the hunting party arrived where the guards were waiting. They had not yet reached the copse where the beaters had been setting up the hunt.
Albrecht looked at Landgrave Wilhelm Georg's head huntsman a little apologetically.
"I can't leave you and your men here. I'm sorry."
The huntsmen were completely unprepared; the guards made short work of the business.
"Leave their bodies here. Perhaps their deaths will spare their families back on the estate the attention of my brother's troops." He was not counting on that, though. Not at all.
They headed northeast, down the Isar. Bishop Gepeckh's men let them through. That saved a lot of time.
The hunting carriage, never built to take the punishment of traveling so far at so fast a rate, had to be left outside of Landshut. The guards commandeered a sturdy market cart with two good horses. It was better than nothing.
* * * *
"They weren't there. We arrived at the estate and they were gone. Hunting, the steward said. Hörwarth isn't home, of course. He's been called to Ingolstadt to serve as one of the official witnesses to Farensbach's execution. Duke Albrecht's servants were packing their baggage, to come back to Munich the next day. At first, the captain thought it was routine enough. They'd ordered a picnic; the beaters had been called out. First, the captain just told us all to dismount and wait, so we did. It was when we went to take the horses to the stables that we noticed."
"Noticed what?"
"All the horses that Duke Albrecht's guards ride were gone. And so were the guards. The sergeant went to tell the captain. And they didn't come back."
Richel was having unusual difficulty in thinking clearly. "Didn't come back?"
"From the hunt. Not Duke Albrecht or his wife or his sons. They're gone. And some of their household, plus the guards."
* * * *
When the beaters came in, the captain questioned them about the planned route of the hunting party. The next morning, they traced it out. Only to come upon a local Pfleggerichter and his men investigating six corpses. A local farmer's dog had given the alarm. Freiherr von Hörwarth's huntsmen.
It was little comfort to Duke Maximilian's captain that everyone present except himself and his men—the Pfleggerichter, the village mayor, the local peasants—seemed to assume, without question, that a contingent of the duke's troops on their way to reinforce Ingolstadt had just happened to come across a group of lightly armed men out in the open, found them annoying in some way, and killed them for the hell of it. Because they could.
The mayor said, "They do it all the time. We're less than nothing to them, and this was just a little country estate, belonging to the Freiherr. They weren't in a fancy livery or anything, to show that they worked for someone powerful. Just countrymen."
Which provided no answer to the question of where the remainder of the hunting party might be. The captain sent a rider back to Munich.
The Pfleggerichter had suggested the possibility that hostile raiders, perhaps out of Regensburg, had kidnapped Duke Albrecht and his family and were taking them into the USE as hostages. The captain conscientiously reported this theory, but added that he did not think that this was the case. Although the ground was hard, there was no indication that there had been a large number of horses at the scene. Not more than would be accounted for by Duke Albrecht's household and guards.
Large numbers of horses, stopped in any
one place for any length of time, left traces of their presence other than footprints.
* * * *
Most of the local farmers were standing around looking at the corpses.
One young man, the oldest son of the village mayor, was making his way to Regensburg. The family had relatives there. They had not always been Catholic; some uncles had left rather than give in to the late Duke Wilhelm's conversion campaign. They kept in touch.
* * * *
Munich, Bavaria
"Pursue them," Duke Maximilian ordered. "Prepare the men to ride as fast as possible, as little extra weight as possible on the horses. And bring me my armor."
"Your Grace," Richel exclaimed. "You cannot. What if . . ."
"Do you think that I have not ridden with my men before, Dr. Richel? Or that I am no longer capable of doing so?" The graying black eyebrow went up.
"Er, well, no, Your Grace, of course not, but...."
"But you are afraid that if I am killed, then you will have to face Duke Albrecht. Which you will. But there is one other thing that you need to think of, if you plan to keep the position into which you have clawed yourself."
"What?"
"There is only one person in Bavaria who outranks Albrecht. He is still the heir. He has not been indicted for any crime; we have merely lodged charges against him. Not tried; not convicted. Which means that if someone is going to countermand any order that Albrecht has given, I am the one who must do it."
Maximilian moved his arms so the valet could help him put the armor on. "Are you thinking, Richel?"
"Yes, Your Grace, most certainly."
"Then think that I am the only person in Bavaria who can order my brother's execution, if it should come to that. Remember that he can order yours. And ask yourself if you really want to dissuade me from riding after him."
* * * *
Amberg, the Upper Palatinate
Duke Ernst looked at Eric Haakansson Hand. "What do you make of it?" The information that came into Regensburg had been relayed to them by Brick Bozarth, the UMWA man who was dealing with the city council there.
"By itself, not much. With all the other information that has been coming out of Bavaria, actually, I'm inclined to believe it. What Duke Maximilian has been doing is like a witch hunt that isn't a witch hunt. It's not impossible that it has expanded to take in his own brother's family and not impossible that they would be running, if they got wind of it in time."
"Witch hunt that isn't a witch hunt?"
"It's working the same way. That's how the persecutions go. They start with one or two little things, minor, a lot of the time. Then some local official decides that they are serious enough to merit an investigation, so he questions some witnesses and turns in some reports. Mostly, it never goes beyond that. But, sometimes, someone at a higher level picks it up. The witnesses and the accused are questioned again, under torture, until they name others. Accomplices, other witches. Then those are arrested and investigated and indicted and tortured. It can keep expanding and expanding until hundreds of people are involved. That's what seems to be happening in Munich, as far as I can follow it. Except, I think, that no one at all seriously believes that Veronica Dreeson is a witch, much less Mary Simpson. But it's growing the same way, and coming from the highest level, the duke himself. He's the one who is weaving all the separate threads together, seeing patterns. Or, perhaps, Richel or Forer or Golla, which amounts to the same thing. The impetus is coming down from the very highest level of the duchy's administration, so there's no one who can put a stop to it, no one who can call a halt. A witch hunt without witches."
"Anything to the report that they appeared to be coming this way?"
"Dashing down the Isar, he said. He last heard that they had passed Landshut. Unless, when they get to the Danube, they all climb into a boat and head for Passau, they have to be coming this way. And if they were heading for Passau, there wouldn't be any reason at all for them to go so roundabout. They're mounted."
Hand looked at Duke Ernst, considering for a moment. After all this time, nearly two years now, he still wasn't sure that he had the man's measure. "What are you thinking about doing?"
Duke Ernst smiled. The leprechaun smile. "I believe that they are headed for Bohemia. I'm going to let them through."
"What!"
"Unless you, as the king's, ah, emperor's cousin, veto me." He winked. "You have read the up-time fable also, I am sure. 'All animals are created equal, but some animals are created more equal than others.' Or something to that effect. The cousins of kings or emperors are always just a little more equal than ordinary dukes." He paused. "Not that it hasn't been a pleasure working with you, Colonel Hand."
Hand decided not to comment on this. "How do you plan to let them through?"
"Warn the boatmen and the Grenzjaeger that they are coming; have them watch the most likely crossing points, let them cross, make sure that they keep moving, and that they keep on a northeast course, which will land them in Bohemia rather than Austria. Herd them a little, if they seem to be veering to the south."
Duke Ernst reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. "I certainly don't want to end up with them here. Let Wallenstein deal with the political headaches. I have too much else to do."
Hand thought about it. "Not a bad solution."
He thought again. "What if Maximilian sends pursuers across after them?"
Duke Ernst smiled again. "Then we will see what our boatmen and Grenzjaeger have learned during all of their training."
* * * *
It was well after dark, but the moon was approaching the full. Duke Albrecht was cursing. There were supposed to have been more boats; he had sent two of his guards ahead to Isarmuend, riding fast, to arrange for boats. But the rest of them had been slowed down; an officious bailiff at Dingelfing. God be thanked that Maximilian had not sent riders ahead of them. He had managed to pull rank, of the "I am the duke's brother and you are going to be sorry about this" type. But they had lost two hours; some of the boats had left the meeting point.
Which meant that they were not going to be able to take everything across. He had planned on putting the carriage, or cart, now, with its team, on the large raft that the guards had procured. They would have to leave that behind, in favor of taking more of the horses. Even then, they left some of the horses behind. And a half-dozen guards. Not enough to check pursuers, but enough to make a lot of noise and disturbance; maybe even slow them down a little.
Under the circumstances, the crossing went better than he had expected. On the north shore, he rearranged the riders; some of them would have to double up, others follow on foot and attempt to delay any pursuit. Fifty miles, more or less, to the Bohemian border.
Doña Mencia, knees and all, was going to have to get on a horse. Well, be put on a horse. Two of the guards lifted her on; then tied her there. They put a protesting Sigmund Albrecht up in front of her; his father had to swat him to get him to cooperate. Vervaux, the tutor, on another horse; Maximilian Heinrich in front of him. Duke Albrecht told Vervaux to keep hold of Doña Mencia's reins; Sigmund could hold on to the pommel. The rest of the women were told to take children in front of them, starting with the youngest. There were only a half dozen women in addition to Mechthilde and Doña Mencia; not a lot of children, but enough to slow them down. Better to risk them on the flight than to leave them behind, he had concluded.
Pursuit would come from behind; Duke Albrecht put only a couple of guards to the front; then the women and children. Moon or not, it was not safe to gallop. They started out cautiously.
On the south bank, there were shots. Maximilian's troops must have been gaining on them all day. He could count on their being across very soon. Somewhere, they would find boats.
They continued along the road. It was starting to get darker. The moon was still out, but now occasional clouds had started to scud across its face; then more and more, until it was cloudy more of the time than they had moonlight. The changes made it harder f
or their eyes to adjust.
The guard who was taking the lead pulled up his horse. Planted at a fork in the road, there was a board, whitewashed. Turned to face the moon. With large letters, and an arrow. "That way to Bohemia."
Duke Albrecht grunted. "It seems that we are expected. I hope that they are telling the truth."
The guard pulled up the signboard and turned it face down.
* * * *
"They're across. Duke Maximilian's men." One of Duke Ernst's boatmen slid into a group of Grenzjaeger. "They had to go downstream about a mile, but they found where the boats that didn't wait for Duke Albrecht were tied up. Right outside Isarmuend would you believe, fastened to the piers just like it was a perfectly ordinary night with nothing going on. Rousted them out and came across. Now they're trying to figure out where Duke Albrecht landed, just by riding upstream toward Deggendorf."
"Too bad they didn't ride downstream towards Aich. Quirin, you, go down to Aich and bring back the men we left there. Wish we were allowed to cut them up a bit."
"Not here. Not unless or until they get too close to the first bunch. The fighting will be farther up. Some guys get all the fun."
"Want us to stove in their boats while they're gone?" the boatman asked hopefully.
"Hell, no. Duke Ernst doesn't want to keep them. He hopes they'll give up and go back where they came from."
One thing that the Grenzjaeger had not counted on was that a couple of Maximilian's men were from this part of the Upper Palatinate. Maximilian had combed through the soldiers he had in Munich, before he left, looking for such men. One of them knew a shortcut. Not an easy one, but the pursuers were not having to take women and children into account. They bypassed the road fork where the sign had been posted and those of Albrecht's men who were not on foot had been waiting to delay them. After two hours, the men realized that something was wrong; they started to follow Duke Albrecht again.
Chapter 48
Haeredes Bavariae
Duke Albrecht looked back. He thought he heard something.
The guard farthest to the rear was waving a white handkerchief, easy to see since the moon was out again, for a moment. Maximilian's troops had caught up with them. He turned back to position himself with the guards.