A Thousand Year Summer

Chapter Four - Óbuda

The early June air and the bright sun above them highlighted the magnificent city ahead. Together, the three towns Pest, Buda and Óbuda towered over the landscape, bustling with activity. Ludmilla had never seen so many humans in one place.

Weakly, András said, "Go to Óbuda, we must find my family's home."

Toris and Ludmilla obliged, and carried the two injured boys down into the town. They had been walking for the better part of the past two days, rushing to escape any further attack.

The town was much dirtier than Ludmilla's home. She suspected that none of the townsfolk had ever taken a bath before. They dumped their urine and feces in the streets, and animals lived amongst the humans. That last part she was familiar with, but Ludmilla took a bath everyday, and so the absolute filth many of the townsfolk surprised her.

She blamed the muck on the high density of the town; she much preferred isolation of the forest, even after five minutes in the city. The worst part of it was the stench of a thousand bodies and their excrete, all together.

András's legs dragged weakly in the mud. She pulled him through the narrow streets, and the weight of his body and the potential she knew he harnessed had her thinking of his true age. No preteen of Natalya's age or even slightly older, like Giselbert, had that skill in sword fighting. Or anything else, for that matter. Giselbert and Toris were like this as well. The three overall seemed older than they appeared to be.

"Don't worry," Toris said quietly to Giselbert. "We're almost there."

Giselbert had been nearly unconscious the whole trip since the attack, and Ludmilla feared he had lost too much blood. She prayed that he would be able to recover.

The entrance to what Ludmilla presumed to be the home of András was much grander than she had previously expected. The great door was of dark oak, with gold painted accents. A coat of arms cast in metal stood out proudly, shining in the midday sun. The entire residence was made of fine marble blocks, cut to perfection. Shimmering stained glass depicting lands in the ancient land of the Magyars was visible from outside, and she was quite sure that inside it was stunning.

Toris knocked firmly upon the door. The guard who answered was tall and fit, and dressed head to toe in chain male. "Your highness!" he gasped, taking András from her arms.

Slowly András was led inside, with Toris, Ludmilla and the unresponsive Giselbert trailing behind quietly. "Quickly!" shouted the guard. "Fetch the physician! The prince has returned!"

The prince. Ludmilla had not been aware that she was in the care of the prince. She had thought that he was the son of some noble, but the prince? It was unheard of for a prince to come to a small village in the north of the Principality of Kiev. From the great Hungarian kingdom, even more so.

A woman swathed in and blue purple silks rushed from a dark room across the hall to where András had gone, wailing with fear. She babbled in quick Hungarian, so quick that Ludmilla could not easily pick up what was being said. They followed suit, entering a dark room lit by dim candles and a slit of a window.

An elderly man labored on András's wounds, quietly pouring elixirs over them, and stitching together gashes he had received. His assistant took the limp Giselbert from Toris, and immediately began to remove the arrow that was still lodged in the base of his neck. Small groans of pain erupted from the previously silent Giselbert–at least he was still alive.

Another middle aged man draped in red stained furs and expensive clothes dashed into the now-operation room, and collapsed next to András, talking to him quietly. Toris and Ludmilla were left there to stand just inside the entrance.

A maid was summoned to the woman's side and she whispered a few concerned words in the direction of the awkward duo, and right away they were whisked into a less grandiose section of the house, in the back room next to the kitchen. The maid set out two beds, and put delicate linens over a feather mattress. Ludmilla had never slept on a real bed before. She had always had a pillow and thick blanket on the packed dirt floor, so the bed was a novelty to her.

She set down her bag, and, rubbing a small pendant given to her by her mother in the shape of a Star of David, sat slowly on the soft bed.

Toris said in slow Yiddish, "I haven't been to Óbuda before. Not Hungary completely. Before two months ago, I had never left the North Sea."

"I have never seen such a large town!" remarked Ludmilla. "So populous... I miss the countryside."

He nodded. With furrowed eyebrows, Toris suddenly posed the question, "What is your name?"  and Ludmilla froze up. "I–I cannot tell you. My mother... she would forbid me from telling a stranger."

"You know mine," said Toris gently, "and I promise not to hurt you. I think we're in this together now, and I should like to understand who you are."

"My name," she said, terrified that her mother would break down the door and drag her outside to publicly flog her, "is Ludmilla. My family is known as Braginsky, so that would make me Ludmilla Braginskaya."

"My family name is Laurinaitis," replied Toris thoughtfully. "We were fishers. I'm Lithuanian, if you didn't know. András and Giselbert found me, just after their voyage through Poland and Pomeriania."

Wording her question carefully, Ludmilla asked, "Why us? Why did they take us specifically?"

Toris did not answer, and they sat in silence for a few moments.

Then came a quiet knock, and the same maid that had installed them in their new living quarters took them back out into the room with András on his back, stitches fresh in his skin, and Giselbert quietly dozing in a bed. The two adults they had seen by András's side smiled as they saw Toris and Ludmilla enter the room. "You two helped my son and Prince Giselbert?" he demanded, his tone stern as his eyes bore holes into Ludmilla's soul. He was quite intimidating.

"Yes, your highness," said Toris, his voice high with anxiety. "We were ambushed, and we helped them here."

"What are your names?" asked the woman, presumably András's mother. "Why did you find yourselves traveling with my son?"

Ludmilla piped up in broken Hungarian, her own voice quaking just as Toris's had done. "I come from the Braginsky family. My village was attacked by raiders from Novgorod, or Polotsk, and I found myself the orphan of likely dead or enslaved parents. His highness found me and took me in."

She nodded with skepticism, her eyes narrowed. Her head shifted to focus on Toris. "And you, young man, what have you to say?"

"My story is similar to my friend. I am called Toris. I come from the north, and my village fell to Scandinavians. I escaped to find the prince and Prince Giselbert watching on, and I was taken away to find Ludmilla in the Great Principality of Kiev." He noticed András's mother's face twist with confusion, and clarified, "Ludmilla is the girl whose family was called Braginsky."

Ludmilla saw András's mouth slip into a smile as he learned her name. He mouthed it to himself, and committed it to memory.

With that clarification, the woman seemed satisfied, and moved to carry on with her own introduction. "I am Queen Elizabeta, and my husband is called King Nikolas, and we reign over the Kingdom of Hungary."

The king stood, and with a slight smile on his face, said, "You have done my family a great service. András must have found you two quite special to have brought you here. Since you are orphaned and you are András's friends, I shall take you on as my charges. This is an extremely particular situation, and however eccentric it is of me to take on two foreign children, I find that you two have the same extraordinary qualities as András did when we took him in."

This detail was very much to Ludmilla's surprise. She had not known that the Hungarian king had a son whom was adopted, or knew that they were considered legitimate successors to the throne. Aside from this developing mystery regarding András's past, Ludmilla felt an extreme amount of gratitude towards the charitable king and queen. "I am honored to accept your offer," Toris said, a note of disbelief in his voice. Ludmilla reported the same.

From then on, Ludmilla became not just Ludmilla, daughter of the farmers from Kiev, but her grace Ludmilla, charge of the Hungarian king.