No Private Audience

Friedel laid Wierach’s summons beside his own signed demand and read both again. The first ordered him to Selbrun within three days. The second asked for a witness to the Emperor’s personal command. Wierach’s answer, written in a steady hand, admitted there was none.

The papers covered most of the table in Hartwig’s receiving room. Friedel had been staring at them since breakfast. A servant had brought in a cup of broth; the surface had gone cold.

“If I go,” he said, “he can call me before him alone.”

Hartwig sat opposite him, one hand resting on the arm of his chair. “He can call you before him in the presence of his council. That is not the same thing.”

“It will be if the council says nothing.”

Adelais stood by the narrow window. She had brought Lambert with her, but the boy was with his nurse in the adjoining room. Friedel had heard him fussing once, then quiet down.

“You can refuse the summons,” she said. “He will call it disobedience.”

Friedel looked at her. “And if I go, he’ll call my silence consent.”

“He may.” Adelais did not soften the answer. “He has the seals. He has the court. You have a letter he cannot explain.”

Hartwig shifted in his chair. “A letter he has answered. I can enter the answer in the chapter book. That does not decide whether the order binds you.”

“Nothing decides anything,” Friedel said. “That is the trouble.”

His voice had risen. He lowered it and picked up the summons. He had wanted Wierach to treat him as an elector. Wierach had sent a command to a young count, as if Friedel were one of the household officers summoned to account for a missing horse.

He set the paper down carefully. “What does the Charter say about where the electors meet?”

Hartwig’s face changed by a degree; the question pleased him. “It names Ammerau as the place where the Charter was signed. It does not require every election to be held here.”

“Then it can be held here.”

“It can,” Hartwig said. “If the electors agree.”

Adelais turned from the window. “And if they do not?”

“Then we will know how much weight they give the seal and how much they give the witness.” Hartwig’s fingers settled on the papers. “I will not tell them which answer to make.”

Friedel had expected Hartwig to offer him a road, not a choice. He looked back at the summons. Three days left. If he rode to Selbrun, he could reach it in two, with a small escort. Wierach would receive him in a room full of men whose places and livelihoods depended on Wierach. Friedel could still speak there. He could even leave again. Those facts had sounded better when he had first listed them to himself.