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Chapter 45

Collegium Academicum


General Franz von Mercy had a spring in his step. A proverbial one, of course, for his wounded leg was swollen like the envelope of an airship, and he could barely walk. But word that the Sunrise had finally arrived in Kolozsvár had put a smile on his face. One that was difficult for Colonel Renz not to notice.

“You are in a particularly good mood this morning, General,” Renz said, standing alongside von Mercy’s bed with a fistful of papers requiring the general’s signature. “Surprising for a man in your condition.”

“Our full army is only fifty miles away, Colonel,” von Mercy said, accepting the papers and a quill. “The whole army, including Higgins’ Silesian Guard, the new Brethren APCs, the Dauntless, and Jupiter. All of it, including our pay. Even if the Moldavians and Wallachians were to attack tomorrow, we could hold them off now for a few days knowing that reinforcements will arrive.”

Colonel Renz nodded. “There are also a number of new Székely infantry companies that have entered the capital, answering Princess Zsuzsanna Lorántffy’s call to defend their prince in this—his—hour of need.”

“Green recruits, I assume.”

“Yes, most of them, though Colonel Hatmanu has taken it upon himself to absorb them all under his direct command.” Colonel Renz rolled his eyes. “The man’s at least wise enough to be putting them through drills.”

Von Mercy wasn’t sure of Colonel Hatmanu’s wisdom at all. The man hadn’t expressed much during their personal encounters. Hatmanu hadn’t even bothered paying von Mercy a visit since the assassination attempt. Had he even bothered to pay the prince a visit, or was he so caught up in his own ambitions that he thought he was in charge of this whole affair?

“As I’ve indicated before,” von Mercy said, scribbling his name on papers and handing them back to Renz one at a time, “the best use for our Transylvanian brothers is second-line defense. We’ll set them up in a ring around the capital, position them in places considered ripe for breach. It’s the Sunrise that needs to meet our enemies in the field. We’ve got the experience and the weapons that can face their Ottoman forces. If we allow Hatmanu and his men to push forward, they’ll be slaughtered.”

Colonel Renz huffed. “I don’t think Lazlo Guth and his Hajdus would get slaughtered.”

Von Mercy shook his head and handed over the last signed paper. “Neither do I. He’s the exception. We’ll need to form a battle plan with his men in a significant role.”

“Yes, sir.” Colonel Renz accepted the last paper and placed them all in a leather satchel hanging from his shoulder. “And when will we form that battle plan?”

Von Mercy shrugged. “Whenever General Roth arrives. I’ve asked him to fly in ahead of the Sunrise so that we can have those discussions right away. In a few days, hopefully.”

A knock came to the door. It opened, and one of the general’s aides peeked in. “General von Mercy. Sorry to disturb you, sir, but Princess Zsuzsanna Lorántffy is here to see you.”

* * *

Von Mercy’s aides took a few minutes to help him out of bed and to a chair, where he threw on a few modest pieces of clothing, touched up his hair, and set another chair nearby for the princess. It was the best they could do under the circumstances. A blanket covered his legs.

They let the princess consort in. She was dressed similarly to how she had presented at the reception: a modest white-and-black gown with matching scarf. Her eyes were weary, bloodshot. Von Mercy could tell that she had spent a lot of time the past several days crying, worrying about her husband, most certainly worrying about her country, her people. He felt sorry for her, despite his misgivings about her husband. The weight of the world had suddenly been thrust onto her shoulders and to the shoulders of her sons, no doubt.

“My lady Lorántffy,” von Mercy said, nodding, “I thank you for paying a visit. I apologize for the sparse conditions. I’ve not had many opportunities to rise since…well, the event. Forgive my appearance.”

She waved him off. “That is quite all right, General. My husband’s quarters are even less appealing than yours. And he lies naked under a sheet.” She motioned to the chair. “May I sit?”

“Please.”

She took a seat, fixed herself, folded her hands over her lap. “I’ve wanted to pay you a visit for some time, General, but of course my attention has been devoted to my husband and his recovery.”

“May I ask,” von Mercy said, “how is he doing?”

She shrugged. “Your Jewish doctor is doing his best, I suppose. He is taking a…balanced approach to my husband’s care. He smiles and nods and tells me that all that can be done is being done. But beneath his subdued optimism, I detect resignation. He believes my husband will die. But he doesn’t understand Prince Rákóczi’s strength. George is a fighter. He will recover, General von Mercy, and I will broach no argument to the contrary.”

Von Mercy nodded, but even through her resolute facade, he could see a twinge of doubt in her swollen eyes. “I look forward to his recovery, my lady.”

She smiled, a modest, unassuming curl of her lips. “It is a matter of the interim that I wish to speak to you about, General. Until my husband recovers, there is a need for someone to maintain the peace, the control, of the streets of the capital.” She stared at him for a long moment, then sighed. “It has been said that that someone could be you.”

Von Mercy leaned back, pointed to himself. “Me? I am just a general in the Grand Army of the Sunrise. I am not one of your countrymen. It would be impractical for me to assume any administrative duties here in the capital.”

The princess nodded. “Indeed, and I would not expect you to take charge of the administrative matters of Transylvania, General. I and my oldest son and George’s brother Pál, if necessary, can deal with those matters until my husband recovers. George is still alive, praise God, and therefore is still our prince, our leader. No thought on succession will be contemplated right now.

“But…the Diet is concerned with the growing number of Saxon refugees pouring into the capital and the county. They, being primarily German, are looking for a leader with whom they can feel comfortable. I have given full command of all Székely forces to Colonel Marius Hatmanu, but there is a growing dispute over who should be in overall command. That person would also oversee the direct security of the streets of Gyulafehérvár.”

Von Mercy pushed his case. “My lady, I am convalescing.” He pulled the blanket aside and hiked up his leg painfully to give her a look at its size. “Please forgive my immodesty, but as you can see, I am in no condition right now to assume a battlefield role, much less oversee the security of the capital. In fact, I shall be honest with you and say that it is uncertain whether or not I will remain a general in the Sunrise once Morris Roth arrives.”

“Who do you think would take your place?”

Von Mercy shook his head. “I do not know. There are a number of qualified commanders in the Sunrise ready to become generals.”

Princess Lorántffy huffed. “Please advise your General Roth not to give the command to Colonel Hatmanu, no matter how much he begs for it.”

Von Mercy smiled and couldn’t help but chuckle. “On that, my lady, we are in full agreement.”

They sat a moment in silence, neither speaking, neither moving to continue the conversation. At one point, von Mercy thought the princess was about to get up and leave. Instead, she straightened the scarf wrapped around her head, leaned forward, and said, “I will be perfectly honest with you too, General. I do not like the idea of you being in overall command.

“You are a Catholic, and I have no love for Catholics and for their Vatican or their Pope. In fact, I have less respect for Catholicism than Judaism. I’m a Christian, a Calvinist, and I try very hard to forgive everyone their sins. There are many in the Diet that agree with me, and they are not happy I am here making this offer. But I have an obligation to the entirety of Transylvania. I am here for Pál and for the Saxon Sees.”

“Why didn’t Pal come to me and make the offer himself?” von Mercy asked. “We know each other.”

She breathed deeply, then let it out in a long sigh. She smiled. “He thought it best that I—a woman—make the offer. He thought that you might be more amenable to the idea if it came from the princess.”

Unfortunately, Pál was wrong. The idea wasn’t entirely out of sorts, von Mercy had to admit to himself, even though he didn’t like the idea of playing nursemaid to political unrest in the streets of the capital. He certainly couldn’t decline the offer out of hand, lest the Diet make the offer to the likes of Marius Hatmanu, who would agree without hesitation. His statement to the princess that Morris Roth might replace him as general of the Sunrise was, of course, a nonstarter, as up-timers might say. The last time he had made that offer, General Roth ripped him a new one. But he certainly couldn’t put himself on a horse right now, couldn’t assume a field command. Someone else in the Sunrise might have to assume that role.

It all came down to when the Moldavian and Wallachian armies arrived at the capital. And unfortunately, the enemy wasn’t kind enough to provide their operational plans.

“I thank you for the offer, my lady,” von Mercy said, adjusting his position in the chair, “but I cannot agree to your request today. I must speak with my commanding officer first. If he thinks it would be a good idea, then I will accept. Can you give me a day, at least, to make a decision?”

Princess Lorántffy nodded. “That is why many of our officers, and many in the Diet, want you over Hatmanu, General. You respect the chain of command.”

She stood, straightened her gown. “I will leave you now. Thank you for your hospitality. Consult whomever you wish on the matter, General, but please make your decision soon. We do not have a lot of time, and the offer will not wait forever.”

He watched her leave, as modestly as she had arrived.

Interesting woman, he thought. Rough around the edges like her husband, but certainly dedicated to her people. I just hope that that dedication doesn’t get her killed. Or her sons.

Colonel Renz entered the room. “How did it go, General?”

Von Mercy nodded. “Fine, fine.”

“What did she say?”

“We’ll speak about that shortly. But first,” Von Mercy said, pointing to the door, “get me to Len Tanner’s room. I have to make a call.”


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