1636: The Viennese Waltz

CHAPTER 38

January 15, 1636

The Hofburg Palace, Vienna

The morning was cold and crisp, but the sun had come out and there wasn’t a cloud within a hundred miles of Vienna. They wouldn’t dare, not today. Empress Mariana looked out the window at the beautiful day and made a decision. “There will the one more royal at the wedding. We’ll bring the baby,” she pronounced.

“Ferdinand the latest?” the emperor asked. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. It’s a beautiful day and by the time we go to the wedding it won’t even be that cold. Besides, the tower is lovely, what there is of it. On the inside, at least. I love the arching concrete pillars.”

The emperor of Austria-Hungary shrugged acceptance and rang for the servants. It was best to get the preparations underway.

St. Stephen’s Cathedral, Vienna

“They are taking the heir?” Father Montilla hissed. The bomb was in place, the clock running, and there was no way at all get back into the the Liechtenstein building, not today. “You have to stop them!”

“How would you suggest I do that?” Father Lamormaini hissed back. “Shall we walk up to the Hofburg and tell them there is a bomb? Or perhaps we should kidnap the imperial prince?

“No. God is talking to us here. It falls to us to understand his meaning.”

“Are we then to destroy the House of Habsburg entire? The Austrian branch, and Netherlands branch, leaving only the Spanish Habsburgs? I admit that has a certain appeal, but with France and William of Orange in the way, it will be difficult at best for Spain to reassert control.”

“No. Aside from everything else, were King Philip to put forward a claim, suspicion would fall on him,” Lamormaini said. “No, we need at least one surviving Austrian Habsburg. If we can’t save the son, the brother will have to do.”

“Leopold has been ordered to attend the wedding by the emperor. He won’t ignore that.”

“But he’s not happy about it. The enmity between him and the Barbies, including Sarah Wendell, has not decreased one bit with their elevation.”

“Happy or not. . You don’t plan to tell him?”

“Not unless absolutely necessary.”

Liechtenstein House, Vienna

Gundaker von Liechtenstein wasn’t happy to be interrupted. He liked the news less. “What is Lamormaini doing at the archduke’s townhouse?”

“I don’t know, Your Serene Highness, but he seemed in a great hurry.”

“Wait here,” Gundaker told the man. Another one like Farkas, but this time he had been more careful. This man didn’t know why he was watching Lamormaini. And wouldn’t until it became necessary to act. Gundakar stepped into the office of the chief butler. “Has there been any change in the schedule for today.”

“No, Your Serene Highness. Nothing that affects us.”

“What about things that don’t affect us?” Gundaker growled.

“Only that the Imperial Family has decided that Imperial Prince Ferdinand will be going to the wedding too. He will be in the daycare with the other toddlers. We were told because of-”

“Never mind.” Gundaker turned and stalked out.

Now he knew what had happened. Realizing he couldn’t save the babe, that idiot Lamormaini was going to tell the prince not to go to the wedding. And he knew of Gundaker’s involvement directly. By the time he got back to his office, Gundaker had decided that he couldn’t wait.

“I want you to kill Lamormaini,” he said. “And if he has spoken to the archduke, you will kill the archduke as well.”

“That’s the sort of thing that can leave a man running for the rest of his life.”

Gundaker went to a chest and pulled out a sack of gold coins. “There is another one of these for you when I know it’s done.”

Townhouse of the Bishop of Passau, Vienna

Archduke Leopold was going through his wardrobe. He didn’t want to go to the wedding. The wardrobe search was partly to delay the inevitable and partly to find the clothes that would show absolutely the least respect for the Barbies he could get away with.

Marco Vianetti tapped on the door and announced, “Father Lamormaini would like a word.”

Leo winced. He could almost agree with a lot of his father’s former confessor’s attitudes, but the man had become increasingly strident since the church had broken in two.

“You must not go to the wedding, Your Grace,” Father Lamormaini said. “It is an offense against God and the true church.”

“Father, I am a man compelled by duty to both my brother and my emperor. It you have a reason that my brother, the emperor of Austria Hungary will accept, I’m more than happy to hear it.”

“Ferdinand doesn’t matter.”

“That is a preposterous statement.”

“It is true!” Lamormaini insisted. “He will be but dust by two o’clock. Do not go to the wedding or you will join him.”

“What do you mean?”

There was a pause. Not long, just a few seconds but long enough for Leo to realize that it wasn’t hyperbole or priestly nonsense. That there was a plot of some sort. Long enough for the realization that if he did nothing, he might well be emperor soon.

Leo didn’t call the guards. He listened. Relations with his family had been going downhill since Judy Wendell had publicly humiliated him. All of them had sided with the up-timers against their own blood.

“There is a bomb in the basement of the Liechtenstein Tower. A room filled with gunpowder.”

“If I am not there, suspicion would fall on me. Who arranged the room? The Spanish faction couldn’t have. Anything they tried to put in the tower would be scrutinized.”

“Not all the Liechtensteins are corrupted by the up-timers.”

That meant either Gundaker or Maximilian. Probably Gundaker. Maximilian was a good general and loyal, but pragmatic. Leo looked over at the clock. It was what the up-timers called a grandfather clock. It used a new sort of escapement and was more accurate. Currently, the hour was twenty-seven minutes past noon. He had time. Not much, but time. “Tell me about it, Father Lamormaini.”

Then he listened as Father Lamormaini laid it all out. All the way back to Ferdinand III forcing Ferdinand II to revoke the Edict of Restitution. Plus a bunch of nonsense about the number of the beast and up-time movies.

Through it all, Leo listened and weighed risk and advantage, while images of his brothers and sisters, his father and mother, and stepmother ran through his head. Cecilia Renata, who in that other timeline would go to a horror of a marriage in Poland. No wonder she was in favor of the Ring of Fire. Images of Ferdinand in that car of his, of the few times that Leo had been allowed to drive the thing. Images of Judy Wendell as she had come off the plane.

His decision was a foregone conclusion, of course. This priest was insane to think that Leo would betray his own brother-his entire family, in fact. Yet, oddly enough, it was the thought of Judy Wendell being slain that made the decision come immediately. As resentful as he still was at her humiliation of him, Leo did not want her dead. The thought of the girl being murdered, in fact, was what was finally enabled him to admit that his own behavior had been at fault.

Leo looked at the clock again. It was almost one. He pulled the cord that would call Marco.

The door opened and a guard entered. Leo rose and pointed at Father Lamormaini. “He is to be placed under close arrest and held for my brother’s pleasure.” He looked back at Lamormaini. “The brother you would murder in the name of God.”

He left to get his horse. Hurrying.

Rotenturmstra?e, Vienna

They came out of nowhere. Marco, Archduke Leopold, and four of his guardsmen were riding down the street and what must have been a dozen men on horseback came out of Lugeck Street. Someone shouted, “At them,” and they charged. Marco managed to draw and fire, but didn’t hit anyone. He had a six-shooter on order, but it hadn’t arrived yet, so he had three single shot pistols left and that was it. It didn’t matter, though. There wasn’t enough time to even draw the next one. He pulled his sword.

“Ride, Your Grace!” Marco shouted. “Ride for your life!”

He never saw the shot that hit Leopold in the side. He was too busy fighting for his life and trying to buy Leopold the time he needed to get away.

He failed in the first, but succeeded in the second.

* * *

Leo felt the blow and then the sharp agony. He stayed in the saddle and rounded a corner, then he was riding for his life, every hoofbeat an agony as a broken rib stabbed him with every jounce. It made it really hard to concentrate on where he was going.

Outside Liechtenstein Tower

Amadeus was stationed in front of the tower. There were several late arrivals, some of them of high station, so a noble was needed to direct them and Amadeus had gotten the job. A horse came galloping around the corner and several guards rode out to halt the rider, then backed away and let him pass.

Leopold actually rode up the steps to the entrance and almost fell off the horse into Amadeus’ arms.

“Your Grace, are you drunk?” Amadeus hissed at the archduke. Then he felt the wetness, and looked at his hand. It was bloody.

“Have to get to the basement.”

“What? We have to get you a doctor.”

“No. No time!” Leo slurred.

“You need a doctor.”

“Now, God curse you. That’s an order!”

Amadeus knew he should get a doctor, but this was the archduke. He turned to the guards. “You, go find us a doctor. A barber-surgeon, mind, not one of those philosophers from the university. The rest of you, watch the door.”

He led Leopold to the stairs down to the basement. There was a guard at the staircase but Leo bulled through him, stopping only to get a couple of lanterns.

At the bottom of the stairs was an office. It was empty. There would be no deliveries during the wedding.

Leo looked around at the halls and turned to Amadeus. “Which one is the Liechtenstein’s?”

“They’re all the. .”

“No, Gundaker!” Leo said. Then he fainted.

About then there was a clattering on the stairs and three men came down. One of them had the black bag that had become almost a symbol of a barber-surgeon from Race Track City.

While the surgeon worked on Archduke Leopold, Amadeus went through the records, looking for which room or rooms might be leased by Gundaker von Liechtenstein.

* * *

Upstairs, word had reached the chief of protocol for the Habsburgs that Leo had shown up drunk and been taken to the basement to keep him out of trouble. He decided that Ferdinand III should not be informed. Things were tense enough in the royal family and he didn’t want the emperor distracted at such an important occasion attended by so many great nobles. He directed that the lesser staff should handle the matter, whatever it was, without disturbing the guests or the wedding party.

“But. .!”

“You heard me. Handle it, and I don’t want to hear about it till the wedding is over and the guests have left.”

* * *

“Here it is!” Amadeus shouted. He had found it. Gundaker had rented a twenty by twenty room for apples? That didn’t seem right. Then he looked over at Archduke Leopold and began to get a really bad feeling. “Wake the archduke,” he told the doctor.

“I’d rather not, Count von Eisenberg. I’ve taped the ribs, but it would be better if he was kept still.”

Amadeus looked at the record book, and back at the archduke. “Wake him! It’s important.”

The doctor shrugged, reached into his bag, and pulled out a small bottle. He opened the bottle and waved it under the archduke’s nose. Even from where he was, Amadeus got a whiff of ammonia. The archduke’s head came up and he almost made the doctor spill his bottle, but apparently it wasn’t an uncommon reaction. The doctor got the bottle away without spilling any of it.

Archduke Leopold looked around, blearily.

“What’s in Gundaker’s room?” Amadeus asked.

“A bomb, I think.”

“It wouldn’t do them any good,” said one of the guards, pointing at the ceiling. “That’s a foot of concrete up there. No bomb is going to do more than scratch it.”

“Maybe, but I think we’d better have a look.”

“If you want,” said the guard.

The doctor helped Leopold to his feet, and they headed for the room.

* * *

The room was dark and full of barrels. Amadeus, Leo, the guard and the doctor looked around the room, lighting it with Coleman lanterns. The barrels were marked to indicate that they held apples, but Leo didn’t believe that for a moment. He had barely escaped from his guards after Father Lamormaini told him that he was destined to become the Holy Roman Emperor.

“You think these are full of gunpowder?” Amadeus asked.

“Yes. This is the storeroom that Gundaker leased from Karl.”

The guard, who had assured them that they were safe from any sort of bomb, was suddenly looking a lot less confident.

Leo turned to him. “Go upstairs and get everyone out of the building.” The guard nodded and left.

Leo looked at Amadeus. “What time is it?”

Amadeus didn’t own a watch. They were expensive, and though Amadeus was wealthy, he didn’t particularly like them.

The doctor pulled a small clock from his bag. “I have one forty-five. But this thing could be off by five minutes either way. Why?”

“Because Lamormaini said that my brother would be dust by two o’clock.”

The doctor swallowed.

“Be on your way, Doctor. You have done all that you could.”

The doctor looked at Leopold, then turned and left. He was running by the time he was out the door.

With the doctor and the guard gone, Leo could hear a clicking. It wasn’t the same as the grandfather clock, but it was close enough. You hear the ticking?” he asked.

“Over there.” Amadeus pointed. “I think that’s a battery. Like in the emperor’s 240Z.”

Leo followed his gaze and blanched. It was a battery. They went over and looked.

The battery was hooked to something, and that something was hooked with wires to one of the barrels.

“Amadeus, how much do you know about electronics?”

“Very little, Your Grace.”

“I don’t know much, either. Would you mind running up to the first floor and asking Sonny Fortney to come down here?”

While Amadeus was gone, Leo had ample opportunity to examine the device. There were two wires leading from the battery. One of them went straight into the stack of barrels, so there was no way to know where it ended. The other went to a clock. It was an unusual clock. Instead of a face that showed twelve hours, this clock’s face showed twenty-four, half in white and half in black. The thing had three hands, just like the grandfather clock, but two of them were bent out away from the face. To the third was attached a wire, and it was very close to a stud that was over the 14. It was giving off a clicking sound and as he watched, what must be the second hand hit the 24 and the minute hand moved. Leo wasn’t sure, but he thought the hour hand had moved a fraction as well. And at the stud at the 14, an attached wire went off around a barrel. A barrel that Leopold was almost sure was full of gunpowder.

Leo was wondering where Sonny Fortney was as the second hand made its orbit and when the minute hand moved again he began to get really worried. Also he was feeling more than a little woozy and his side hurt a lot. He really didn’t want to be sitting here unconscious when the bomb went off.

* * *

Amadeus ran up the stairs to the first floor and was lost in the milling crowd. The whole first floor of the uncompleted tower was packed with people. The wedding party, the wedding guests and Sonny Fortney would be at the other end of the hall with his family and the Wendells. No one was making any move to leave. He wondered what the hell was going on and where the guard had disappeared to.

* * *

The guard was arguing with the third undercaptain, who had gotten his orders from the steward and wasn’t convinced by the hysterical ramblings of a guard who had probably been paid by the archduke to interrupt the wedding. By now, the guard was almost hoping the place would blow up.

* * *

Amadeus looked around for anyone he knew who might know something about electricity. There was no one. Then he saw Dr. Faust looking at one of the unused light sockets that were built into the columns in the main foyer. “Herr Doctor Faust!”

Amadeus ran up to the man, who was looking confused and a little concerned.

“I need you to come with me.” Amadeus still wondered if he should be shouting at everyone to get out, but he wasn’t sure, so he didn’t.

“Well, all right,” said Dr. Faust, looking back at the light fixture.

“Now, Doctor! It’s urgent.” He grabbed the doctor’s arm and pulled him along toward the staircase leading to the basement.

“What is going on, Count von Eisenberg?”

“What do you know about electrics?”

“You mean electronics. Quite a bit. Why?”

* * *

The minute hand was now getting close to the 24 and the hour hand was almost touching the stud. Leo assumed that bad things would happen when the hour hand reached the stud. He pulled the steel knife out of the scabbard at his side, thinking to place it between the dial and the moving handle, so that they couldn’t touch.

There was a sound in the distance. Leo turned still holding his knife. “Herr Fortney?”

“No. I couldn’t find him,” Amadeus shouted back and Leo turned back to the ticking device, knife in hand. “I brought Dr. Faust instead. He knows about electrics.”

“Please hurry, Herr Doctor. I don’t think there is much time for delay.”

Dr. Faust and Amadeus came running up, and Leo pointed with his knife. “I think that when the hour hand reaches the stud, something bad will happen.”

Panting, Dr. Faust looked at the device and after a moment nodded. Leo offered the the doctor the knife. “You can keep them separate with this.”

Dr. Faust looked at the knife and blanched. Then he reached down with his hand, grabbed one of the wires, and yanked it free.

“Was that all it took?” Leo asked, feeling disappointed. “From the books, they are supposed to take some sort of specially trained experts to disarm?”

“That’s because up-time they used antitampering devices. Lots of wires, and if you pulled the wrong one, the bomb went off. But, Your Grace, iron and steel are excellent conductors. Putting your knife blade in between the two wires would have been as bad as touching them together.”

Leo fainted then. He would forever after claim that it was from blood loss.

“Just something I thought you should know, in case something like this ever comes up again,” Dr. Faust said to the unconscious archduke.

* * *

Mike Stearns stood on one of the balconies that overlooked the milling crowd of colorfully dressed people. It was early afternoon and the electric lights glittered from the masses of jewels women wore, as well as the pommels of dress swords worn by the men.

He was standing on the mezzanine taking a breather from the dancing, wishing with all his might that Rebecca was here. Partly just so she could rescue him from what seemed like hordes of females who all wanted their chance to dance with the Prince of Germany.

He heard a soft step behind him and turned his head to see Ferdinand III, Emperor of Austria-Hungary, walk up to him. He was accompanied by his brother-in-law Fernando, the King in the Low Countries.

So. The heads of two of the three Habsburg houses. As often happened at royal weddings, business would be conducted. Mike was not surprised, of course. It was the main reason he’d come.

“Glittering crowd down there, Your Majesties.”

Ferdinand nodded. “Glittering, it certainly is, and your young ladies are providing a lot of the glitter.” He stepped nearer the rail and stared out over the crowd. Fernando joined him.

Mike followed the route Ferdinand’s eyes took. Sarah Wendell and Prince Karl Eusebius von Liechtenstein were dancing through the concrete trees. A waltz, needless to say. An early version of the dance had already existed, but the Ring of Fire had made waltzes the rage of European courts in general-and the Austrian court in particular.

Judy Wendell and Millicent Anne Barnes were holding court nearby, surrounded by a bevy of soon-to-be-disappointed suitors. Gabrielle Ugolini seemed to be a bit at a loss, and waiting for her escort, Herr Doctor Faust.

By now, Mike had been briefed on the romances of the various Barbies. Moses Abrabanel was dancing with Susan Logsden, and Carla Barclay was dancing with some young count whose name Mike hadn’t caught. Trudi von Bachmerin was dancing with Jack Pfeifer. Mike didn’t see Hayley and wondered where Amadeus had gotten to.

The music was from a record player with electrical amplification. People of every station were chatting around the edges of the dance area.

* * *

Mike tried to hide a grin. “Four years ago, someone I knew said that there wasn’t a single thing that would do his soul more good than seeing a young woman in a wedding dress walk down the aisle. The man’s dead now, but he was right at the time and he’s still right. We’ve seen a lot of weddings these last four years.”

“And to think there are some who consider you barbarians.”

The dry tone of Ferdinand’s voice made Mike turn to look at him. He put a questioning look on his face.

Ferdinand smiled. “You have, after all, made quite a bit of headway. Using tactics well known to my family.”

“Oh, yes,” Mike agreed. “‘Let others wage wars. You, fortunate Austria, wage marriage.’”

“Close enough,” the emperor of Austria-Hungary agreed. He gestured toward a nearby door that Mike assumed led to a room where privacy was to be found. “Would you accompany us?”

“Of course.”

* * *

Sarah carried a traditional bouquet and was preparing for the traditional bouquet toss.

Judy did her best to stay well away from the toss, Millicent at her side.

The bouquet contained myrtle leaves, for good luck. Brides were traditionally considered lucky and some variation of the bouquet toss had been in custom for many years. At this point, the last thing Judy wanted was to catch a bouquet. Weddings seemed to be catching or something. Everywhere she turned, some young man was staring at her with puppydog eyes, practically begging for her attention.

“I’m looking forward to getting back to Magdeburg,” Millicent muttered.

“Same here,” Judy whispered. “Let’s get farther back. The last thing I want is these boys getting ideas. I’m getting enough proposals, without them thinking I’m next.”

They didn’t make it quite far enough away. Almost as soon as Judy and Millicent turned back to watch, Sarah launched her bouquet.

“Ah. . drat.”

Millicent sighed. “Can’t let it hit the floor, can you? It’s a rule. You know. Like the flag.”

Judy stared over the bouquet she’d had to catch. At the group of more-than-willing boys. “You wish,” she muttered at them, just as a bloody Archduke Leopold staggered onto the dance floor, accompanied by Amadeus and Herr Doctor Faust.

Epilogue

It took a short time for Emperor Ferdinand to realize that his little brother wasn’t just drunk and that Leopold was wounded.

After that, things got organized quickly. Troops were sent to collect Father Lamormaini. A scourge of the Spanish faction of the Austro-Hungarian court would follow over the next few weeks. But from that moment the support of the Austrian court-and that of the Netherlands-for Pope Urban was set in stone.

It wasn’t nearly so well documented that Gundaker had been involved. Yes, he had rented the storeroom, but he could have done it at the request of Lamormaini without knowing for what use was intended. At least, that was Karl’s less-than-convincing argument.

Maximilian von Liechtenstein was not happy. He and his wife had both been at the wedding. If the bomb had gone off, he would have been blown up with everyone else.

Troops were sent to Liechtenstein House, where they failed to find Prince Gundaker. They did find a set of books that, on close examination, suggested that Gundaker had gotten away with a lot of silver and more than a little gold.

“The only direction I think we can be sure he doesn’t run,” said Maximilian, “is toward his wife’s lands.”

A more serious question was was who else was involved. Hartmann von Liechtenstein, Gundaker’s son, was out of town on business for his father, but they didn’t know whether he was involved. It wouldn’t have been hard for Gundaker to send him off without telling him the reason. Gundaker’s daughters were in attendance, both of them with their husbands, which pretty much cleared them of any involvement.

But how many of the staff at Liechtenstein house were involved was an open question. Not everyone had been at the wedding.

* * *

Mike Stearns returned to Bohemia two days after the wedding. He needed to get back anyway, since the moment for his intervention in the siege of Dresden was approaching. But he wouldn’t have stayed much longer in any event.

Some diplomatic negotiations require weeks and months. Others are tentative affairs, more in the way of opening channels and establishing possibilities than coming to any decisions-or even advancing any definite proposals. But he was quite satisfied with the outcome. The friendly neutrality-reasonably friendly, anyway-of the Netherlands was further solidified, and the Austrian attitude had clearly been shifted in that direction.

The impact of the Barbies on Austria’s finances and social attitudes had been considerable, more so than he would have imagined ahead of time. Granted, Mike had reservations about the Austrian way of fitting Americans-some Americans, at least-into their aristocratic view of the world. Von Up-time, indeed! Fricking ridiculous.

But it was better than fighting another war. Besides, given some time, that ridiculous notion would probably prove to be just another lever for prying the seventeenth century toward civilized attitudes. Mike had never suffered from the notion that progress was simple and invariably straightforward.

* * *

Meanwhile, life went on. Archduke Leopold was the hero of the hour, his reputation rescued. He didn’t, however, attempt to kiss, touch, or otherwise approach Her Serene Highness Judith Elaine Wendell von Up-time. There were, after all, other girls. Most of them not nearly so quick with a knee.