“I told my wife to pack at once, that I would never set foot in the castle again.”
Count Thurzo listened, nodding to his scribe as he dipped his pen in the inkwell. “And your verdict, Zrynyi?”
The young man looked at the fire. Thurzo could see his jaw working in the yellow light. “As we discussed a month ago, I agree with my kinsmen that the Countess should be sent secretly to Varanno to enter a nunnery.”
“Our King does not allow this option,” said Thurzo. “My question is whether you will join me in witnessing her crimes and assist in her immediate arrest.”
Zrynyi answered at once, the knots in his shoulders unknitting in relief. He saw a reciprocal loosening of muscles in the tense Megyery. “I will, my Lord, with all my heart. I am faithful to the Habsburg Crown.”
Thurzo nodded. He turned to Megyery. “I do not need to ask where you stand, sir. Your animosity toward Countess Bathory is well-known, Megyery the Red.”
“Only fed and fattened with hearty years of horrific evidence, my Lord. Ferenc Nadasdy left his heir in my charge. I am the sworn protector and guardian of Pal of Nad—”
“I know your situation, Megyery. And I am well aware of the brutal stories the peasants of Sarvar recount of Countess Bathory. Also of her bitter animosity toward you. We shall not travel those old roads. What new information do you bring?”
Megyery wrinkled his brow, registering the Palatine’s impatience. He wet his lips with his tongue.
“A peasant came to me—formally to Pal, but he being a mere twelve years of age—”
“Continue without embellishment. Get to the meat of the subject.”
“The peasant came with a grievance. He had journeyed the many miles from Čachtice, his face drawn in exhaustion, but his eyes bright with fury. He said that a certain maiden, who was in the employ of Countess Bathory, was his betrothed. He had warned her not to accept work at Čachtice Castle, but she had no choice. Her situation was one of the most dire poverty.
“Her job included fetching buckets of river water each day from below the walls of the castle. The lad would wait for her to whisper endearments as she filled her buckets.
“One day she did not appear. Nor the next day. But the following day, another maiden came down from the castle, the two buckets in her hands. She told the boy that his fiancée had disappeared.
“My scribe took the complaint, as I heard it. I have the document here.”
He produced a parchment from his leather satchel. A servant accepted it and carried it to the Palatine’s hands.
Thurzo glanced at the letter. “The light is poor,” he grumbled. “Tell me of its contents.”
“I heard the young man’s story. He was met by Kovach, the head guard of Čachtice, at the castle gates, the man turned the wretched boy away, saying that the girl left of her own accord in the middle of the night. A slattern, he called her. ‘You are well rid of such a harlot.’
“The boy knew the guard was lying. He had listened to the tales of strange disappearances of scores of girls. It is said that no one in Čachtice or the surrounding areas will dare work for Countess Bathory now. Her witches scour the countryside for new victims, maidens in far-off villages who have not heard of the mayhem of Čachtice Castle. And even there, word of her evil has spread. She is called the Beast of Čachtice by the villagers.
“He collected the names of girls who had gone missing in the past decade, never to return to their homes. Girls who were in the employ of Countess Bathory.
“In the letter you will find scores of names of brave men and women who will testify against the Countess if she is brought to trial.”
Thurzo looked down at the letter in his hand. His lip curled up in disgust.
“This very night, I have received word from Vienna,” said Thurzo. “Countess Bathory holds Countess Zichy prisoner.”
The two men gasped.
Count Thurzo sipped from his goblet.
“Gentlemen,” he said. “To protect the Bathory interests, it must be us—her kinsmen—who make the arrest. The Countess will fall under my jurisdiction as Palatine—I can arrange to deal with her on terms that will be favorable to her heirs. I propose the two of you accompany me to Čachtice. We leave at once.”
Chapter 83
POPRAD TATRY AIRPORT
SLOVAKIA
DECEMBER 28, 2010
Maybe she missed the plane,” said John, watching the last of the passengers come down the stairs from the little prop plane. “Great—”
“That’s her!” said Betsy, gripping his arm. “In the black coat.”
John squinted, seeing a girl with her hair tucked up under a woolen cap. Wearing no makeup.