Failure
Bátor was in a cheerful mood, he had met with Éva just 2 days ago. He was off to the village of Szada, to talk to the local elder. He was by right the head of the village and knew much about the region. Bátor was taking his task seriously and knew that the elder was not in good relations with the Lampert, the count. If he could convince him that their future invasion is just, he might get his support. If he doesn’t, well it will be a close call, he might be caught. He was doing this for over a year now and it was pretty much public secret, but they couldn’t catch him. They were pretty close to it - not once - but he had been lucky.
The ride was fine, it was a beautiful autumn, the golden leaves of the trees creating a carpet beneath his feet. As the village was just 3 days walk he decided to go on foot rather than take his horse. A horseman is always more recognisable than a mere peasant. People tend to remember horsemen riding by.
He was enjoying this task immensily, it was just yesterday when a soldier stopped him enquiring about a stranger agitating against the count, basically asking him if he’d seen himself. He had acted surprised and said he never saw him, but could hardly keep himself from laughing out loud. They were morons.
The village lay in the valley right before him, he stopped for a second. It was bigger than he imagined it would be, perhaps there is even a guard outpost here. No matter, he’d come this far he won’t turn back now.
He was whistling to himself as he entered the village. He headed to the pub. He always found it amazing that no matter how small a village was, there was always a pub and people to man it. Booze was always something he never understood, as he himself never drank. It blunted his senses. Yet he made his way to the pub, no better place to get some good gossip.
The Pub
Naturally people were always interested were he came from, they seldom had outsiders arrive. He had called himself a pilgrim or a sell sword, depending on his mood.
The pub in Szada was relatively large, in line with the whole size of the village itself. As he entered the pub went silent.
He didn’t care much, he was used to it. He walked to the counter.
“A jug of water please”
“Water?” – the barkeeper was surprised
“Yes, water. I’m a pilgrim to the city of Székesfehérvár to see the bones of St István” – he was lying fluently. He’s done it for too long now – “I shall not let wine touch my lips until I have kissed the feet of our saint”
“Ah, I see dear sir” – the man was not surprised, these pilgrims are always strange – “here you are”
“Thank you” – Bátor replied – “Do you happen to know where I can find the village elder? I would like to ask for his good wishes”
“Good wishes?” – the man was surprised – “well he is down by the old church at this time of the day I would think”
“Thank you again good sir”
He drank his water and was just about to step outside from the pub when it caught his ear. 2 men were drinking just by the door and he thought he heard one of them say – “...Katalin will not live long, the county is in ruins...”
He couldn’t stop his curiosity getting the better of him, he decided to involve himself. He needed to know why they were talking about his mother.
“Apologies dear sirs, but did I hear you talk about our beloved Katalin, the wife of the count of Vas?” – he interrupted
“Yes, who are you? Why do you care?” – one of the men grunted, he had a long scar on his face.
“I am a pilgrim and came through the county of Vas, she was good to me and I was wondering her fate as I overheard your talk. Apologies dear sirs, it is none of my business”
“No problem young man. The countess has been arrested for treason, she will be executed” – the man said dryly – “Come to think of it, how could you have met her recently? She’s been in prison for several months now”
Bátor couldn’t really remember what he replied, he felt dizzy and his legs were shacking. He quickly got out of the pub and leaned against a tree. His mother? Executed? For months now and nobody told him? What about his father? Does he know about this? What is happening here? He had so many questions running through his mind he just couldn’t think.
He had no idea how long he had stayed leaning against that tree, but finally he decided, if he had come this far, he’ll talk to the elder. Once he is over it, he’ll make his way straight home and get to the end of this.
Portrait of Bátor
His thoughts were elsewhere so he couldn’t see the signs as he walked down the road. He didn’t notice the boots of the scarred faced man in the pub. They were the boots of the count Lamperts soldiers. He also didn’t notice the man leaving the pub while he was still deep in his thoughts.
He reached the old temple and saw the elder sitting there with two of his advisors. Or so he thought at that time. He would never have thought to walk straight up to him under other circumstances without first checking the surroundings.
But this time he did. It was mistake.
As soon as he stepped in front of the elder, the 2 advisors drew swords. He was about to turn and run but there were another 4 men who rushed out of the temple, led by the man with the scar face. He was trapped, nowhere to run. He wished he could spit in his own face for being such a fool but it was too late now, he was still grabbing his sword.
“Drop it” – the scarred man yelled – “Or we’ll cut you to pieces”
Bátor looked at the four men and the two beside the elder. He was a good sword man, but he knew he wouldn’t have a chance. He dropped his sword.
‘Father, I failed you’ were his thoughts as he was thrown in chains and taken away.
