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the riverboat men and try to talk them into joining the army. We were advertising in the magazine, but
most of these men couldn't read.
I rode Anna up to Wawel Castle to pay my respects to the duke and see if he wanted a ride. Duke
Henryk the Bearded was even more important to me than Count Lambert, and without the duke's
support, I couldn't have accomplished a tenth of what I had. On the way there, Anna gestured that
something was wrong, but she didn't know what it was.
The guard at the castle gate looked glum, but he recognized us and let us in. I didn't find out what was the
trouble until I asked the marshal, the man in charge of the stables, where I could find the duke.
"Young Duke Henryk is in his chambers, my lord, but I wouldn't bother him just now."
"Young Duke Henryk? What are you talking about? The duke is over seventy!" I said.
"You hadn't heard, my lord? Duke Henryk the Bearded was killed last night. Duke Henryk the Pious
now rules."
"Good God in Heaven! How did it happen?"
"It was one of his own guards that killed him, my lord, a Sir Frederick. Shot him with a filthy crossbow
while he was asleep. The other guards chopped up Sir Frederick, killed him on the spot, so I don't guess
we'll ever find out why he did it."
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I left Anna with the marshal and went to young Henryk's chambers. Actually, he was ten years older than
I was, but he still might want someone to talk to, and I knew the man fairly well. In any event, I could
hardly leave the castle at a time like this without his permission. There was a crowd around his closed
door, but just as I got there, the door opened and the new duke came out. He was wearing an army
uniform.
"Ah, Baron Conrad. You got here quickly."
"In truth, your grace, I didn't hear the news until I arrived."
"Your grace?" he mused. "Yes, I guess I am that now. I've been going over my late father's private
papers. I want to talk to you alone. The rest of you, please tell everyone that I will want to see every
noble in the throne room in two hours, but for now, disperse. Come in, Baron Conrad."
"Thank you, your grace. May I say how sorry I am about your father's death?"
"No sorrier than I am, I assure you. But things must go on if I am not to waste the work he spent his life
on."
"Have you any idea why Sir Frederick would do such a thing, your grace?"
He thought a moment. "My father was often rude to the man, but there must have been more to it than
that. My father made many enemies. He had to knock a lot of heads together to get the lords of both
Little and Great Poland to swear allegiance to him. There are a lot of young hotheads out there who
thought that they would inherit petty dukedoms and who now find themselves only becoming counts or
even barons. Doubtless one of them got to Sir Frederick somehow. But which one? I doubt that we'll
ever know. But I tell you this--every noble on my lands is going to swear allegiance to me, and those
who don't are going to wish they had!"
"Whoever did it might come after you next, your grace. Perhaps you could use a special sort of
bodyguard. I'm sure you've heard many stories about my horse, Anna. The truth is that she's not really a
horse. She's almost as intelligent as a man. She's absolutely loyal and she's saved my life many times. The
first of her children are of age now, and I'd like you to have one of them, sort of a permanent loan. The
young ones are identical to their mother, and might save your life."
"Can they run like she does?"
"Yes, your grace."
"Then I'll take one. But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about. My father's secret letters to me say
some astounding things about you. Are you really from the future?"
"Yes, your grace. I was born in the twentieth century."
"And you don't know how you got here?"
"Not really, your grace. I think it had something to do with an inn I slept in, but that inn is gone now.
Certainly my own people never had a time machine."
"But you were Polish, and a sworn officer in the military."
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"I am Polish, your grace, and once an officer, always an officer."
"Yes, yes. Then your knowledge of the Tartar invasion is one of simple historical fact?"
"Yes, your grace. But in truth, I am no longer sure just what a historical fact is. In my history, at this time
there was nothing like the factories or railroads or aircraft or steamboats that I have built here. My being
here has changed things, and I have no idea whether or how these changes will affect other things. In my
time, the Mongols invaded Poland in late February and early March of 1241. Two major battles were
fought, one at Chmielnick on March seventh, and another at Legnica two weeks later. We lost both
battles."
"But you don't know if these things are fixed by fate?"
"No, your grace, I don't. I'm praying that they are not. It is my intent to defeat the Mongols and kill them
an."
"I see. Well, you may rest assured that the 'Mongols,' as you persist in calling them, are indeed coming.
They are already invading southeastern Russia. We just got word that the city of Vladimir has fallen. They
said it had been larger than Cracow. But it's gone now, with almost every man, woman, and child
slaughtered, The Mongols even killed every animal-why, I do not know."
"Perhaps they simply enjoy killing, your grace."
"I see. You were definitely not sent here by anyone?"
"Not to my knowledge, your grace, but I got here somehow. Someone must have done it."
"Well. I'll expect you and any of your knights that you have with you to swear fealty to me this afternoon.
Tell me, if you hadn't heard of my father's death, why did you come here today?"
"It seems trivial now, your grace, but we just got the first riverboat working. It's tied up at the docks here
in Cracow. I came to see if your father wanted to ride it."
"Perhaps tomorrow I might have time to inspect it. For now, good day, Baron Conrad."
I scrounged up some writing materials, wrote some quick letters, and then went down to see Anna.
I met Lady Francine in the courtyard. She had been the old duke's companion (Paramour? Assistant?
Toy?) for some years, and we had been friends for even longer. Perhaps next to Cilicia, she was the
most beautiful woman in Poland. I gave her my condolences and invited her to join me on my errand.
"I would love to, Baron Conrad. But do not be so downhearted," she said with her thick French accent
as we walked to the stables. "The old duke had a long full life, and he died without pain, yes? How many
others have done the same?" She was wearing a most modest dress that covered her from wrists to chin
to ankles, a far cry from the miniskirt and topless styles the old duke preferred.
"I suppose you're right. That's a most attractive dress, my lady."
"It is the style that will be worn at court from now on, I am afraid. Everyone knows the young duke's
displeasure with the styles preferred by his father."
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