“I’m not insensitive to the situation, and the newspapers make it much harder to get where you’re going before the bandits know about the trip,” Karl agreed. “On the other hand, King Albrecht is insistent that I go.”
“And my daughter? Is King Albrecht insisting that Sarah go with you?”
“No. But I’d rather tell King Albrecht no than tell Sarah that. If you don’t want her to go, then you get to try to convince her she can’t.” Karl couldn’t keep just a touch of smugness out of his voice as he said that and it clearly didn’t please Herr Wendell.
CHAPTER 7
A Trip to Bohemia
September 1634
Prague
As it happened, Karl’s wait for the king’s pleasure wasn’t long at all. In fact, the king’s call came as soon as they arrived at the palace. Karl was escorted to a small throne room, not the big one, more of an office really. And before he could even finish his bow, Wallenstein asked him, “Was your father a thief?”
“I don’t think so, Your Majesty,” Karl answered carefully. “Though I am aware that others hold a different view. I prefer to think he was simply a practical man.”
“Not exactly a ringing endorsement from a son.” Wallenstein snorted. “I take it you don’t think I’m a thief, either.”
“No, Your Majesty.”
“Then you would accept paper money issued by the crown of Bohemia. That is, by me!”
Karl had apparently landed in the middle of a rather heated debate. He noted the presence of Morris Roth, Uriel Abrabanel, and a few other people that he suspected were counselors to the king or money lenders. Bankers, as the up-timers would have it. He began to get an inkling of what was going on. King Albrecht was setting up his national bank. The timing seemed about right. And the king had just been told that there were problems.
Karl had a decision to make and he had to make it fast. Telling truth to power wasn’t a safe thing to do, but if what the family said about Wallenstein was true, lying about this could be incredibly costly. He hesitated, saw the expression on King Albrecht’s face, and blurted out, “Not if I could safely avoid it, Your Majesty.”
“You acknowledge that I’m not a thief, but wouldn’t accept my money?” King Al gave Karl a hard look. “Which time were you lying?”
“Neither, Your Majesty. But just because I trust your money’s value, doesn’t mean I can spend it. That would require that the person I’m buying from trust it. Sarah Wendell is the person you should be talking to about this.”
“Who is Sarah Wendell?” King Albrecht looked around the room as though she might be hiding in a corner.
“She’s the daughter of the USE Treasury Secretary,” Morris Roth explained.
“She’s his girlfriend.” Pappenheim jerked a thumb at Karl. “I read it in the National Inquisitor.”
“She was the chief financial officer for OPM before she resigned to take a post with the USE Federal Reserve,” explained Uriel Abrabanel.
“She’s just outside,” Karl said, all of them speaking pretty much simultaneously.
King Albrecht took it all in, or at least he seemed to. He motioned to the soldier waiting by the door, “Invite the young lady in.”
* * *
Sarah entered the room to see the king in a chair only a little grander than the chairs of the others in the room. Except for Karl, they were all sitting. Pappenheim was on the king’s right, Morris Roth and Uriel Abrabanel on his left. There were three other men she didn’t recognize. She did an awkward curtsey and went to stand beside Karl.
She wanted to take his hand but doubted that would be appropriate. She wondered when taking his hand had become such a natural first response.
The king looked at her and at him, and waved them to chairs. “Miss Wendell, Prince Karl here says you’re the person I should be talking to about introducing Bohemian paper money. That you can explain to me why my money will be no good in spite of the fact that Karl says he trusts me?”
Suddenly she didn’t want to hold Karl’s hand. She wanted to hit him in the head. Hard!
Karl saw her expression and, risking royal displeasure, hastened to explain. “His Majesty asked me if I trusted him, then if I would take his money. I remembered how you had explained the situation regarding me issuing money on my lands.”
“Who gave you permission to issue money?” King Albrecht asked.
“No one, Your Majesty, and I hadn’t brought up the subject. It was a preemptive lecture, lest I should fail to consult them before doing anything so foolish.”
“So my issuing money is foolish?”