Julian turned a bit pink even under his tan complexion. The boys laughed and elbowed him in the ribs.
“Now we know why he was taking the up-timer’s side.” Frederick snickered. “Lust before honor. Tut tut tut.”
“It’s not like that,” Julian insisted, thinking that it very much was like that.
To a great extent, it was Julian’s version of events that made the rounds of the young men of the nobility and that acted as a further embarrassment to the archduke over the next few weeks.
Restaurant at Race Track City
“I saw it myself,” said a dock worker the day after the event. “The archduke grabbed her like she was some peasant girl, and she kneed him in the balls.”
“There’s going to be trouble!” said an older dock worker. “You don’t embarrass an archduke like that.”
“They’re up-timers,” said a waitress.
“So what? Sonny Fortney is an up-timer and he’s just a regular guy. It’s not like he’s noble.”
The waitress pulled a BarbieCo stock certificate out of her pocket. It was a trudi, the best tip she had gotten that morning. She waved it at him. “Does Sonny Fortney have his own money?”
The dock worker laughed. “That’s a trudi,” he said grandly, “and she’s not an up-timer.”
“Fine. You go grab her and see what happens to your balls,” the waitress shot back.
“Not me, lass,” he said, reaching for her, but not at all suddenly, and she slipped away. “I like my women with a little maturity.”
She sniffed, but smiled a little as she headed for the next table. She was a decade older than the Barbies.
The social status of the Barbies and the up-timers became a major topic of conversation all over Race Track City. It was clear that you could be an up-timer and not a Barbie, or a Barbie and not an up-timer. It was also clear, given that the Barbies weren’t arrested, that Judy Wendell was of a rank that could, given provocation, knee the emperor’s brother in the balls and get away with it. But what gave her that rank was a matter that was entirely murky. Was it being a Barbie or being an up-timer?
St. Stephen’s Cathedral, Vienna
“I told you,” Father Lamormaini said to Gundaker von Liechtenstein. “They have no respect for the natural order of things, no sense of their proper place at all. It was intentional. I’m convinced of it. She enticed the archduke in order to embarrass the emperor and his family.”
Gundaker’s experience with Archduke Leopold didn’t indicate that he needed all that much in the way of enticement. The boy had a weakness for pretty things, though he was usually more discreet in the matter.
Still, Gundaker nodded to Father Lamormaini. The man was moving farther and farther into fanaticism and that might be useful at some point. Even so, after agreeing Gundaker added, “But we must be careful, Father. We can’t let them tempt us to rash actions.”
CHAPTER 30
September 1635
Liechtenstein Tower Construction Site, Vienna
The scraper was down six feet below street level now and they were running into real problems.
The basement was a well.
Johann’s foot sank into the mud and the ox he was following wasn’t doing much better. The scraper was sinking into the mud. “Leonhard, we have to do something about the seepage!” Johann shouted.
He was overheard by no less a personage than Karl Eusebius von Liechtenstein, who was here observing the construction preparations for the Liechtenstein Tower, in preference to observing the towering rage of his uncles.
Gundaker was much the worst, but Maximilian wasn’t happy either. Sarah was taking the attitude that Leo got what he was asking for and if the emperor didn’t like it, they could all go home while the whole Austro-Hungarian Empire sank into its massive debt. That threat was pretty effective, more so because Gundaker really wanted Karl and Sarah’s marriage to happen. He wanted Karl’s children out of the succession, and wanted it badly. It was reassuring in a way, in spite of Gundaker’s recent association with the Spanish and Borja faction.
The whole city had been tense since Pope Urban had been forced out of Rome. There were clear fault lines over the crisis in the church, and while the royal house was tending toward the Urban faction, they had not declared for him. Judy’s knee might just move them to the Borja faction. Certainly, the Dominicans seemed to be flocking around Leo.
What possessed the girl?
No.
Karl knew exactly what had possessed her. The exact same thing that possessed all the up-timers. That up-timer sense of self-worth. It was what he expected from his fellow aristocrats, “the best bloodlines in Europe,” but it had come as quite a shock when he had first gotten to Grantville and realized that all the up-timers had it. And a whole bunch of the down-timers that associated with them were developing it.
Damn it, what possessed Leo?
No.
Karl knew what had possessed Leo too. He simply hadn’t realized what he was dealing with. What if he had done that to Gretchen Richter? She’d have used a knife, not a knee.
He would have to find a way to talk to Leo, try to explain. Karl had gotten used to up-timer attitudes over the years, and had moved the up-timers into the category of nobles in his mind, without even realizing it. That was Gundaker’s trouble with Sarah. Well, most of it anyway. That he hadn’t moved up-timers into the category of noble.
Another call pulled Karl’s mind from his mulling. Another scraper was sinking into the mud. It seemed all of Austria-Hungary was insisting on following it. “We’ll need to dig some wells and pump the water out!” Karl shouted over to the foreman.
The water would have to be pulled away long enough for them to get concrete walls and a floor in, and even then there was going to be serious seepage. They would have to design for it. Meanwhile, he would have to find a way to convince the nobility of Austria. . not that there were no nobles. That was impossible, whatever Mike Stearns thought. No. The trick was to convince them that everyone was noble. Karl snorted. Even that was the work of Sisyphus. But at least that way he could move a boulder at a time. First, convince them that the Barbies were nobles-that all up-timers had to be considered noble-and then that they’d better learn to treat Gretchen Richter and her like as noble.
He figured he should reach that point about the time his grandchildren were doddering old fools.
The Hofburg Palace, Vienna
“Thank you for seeing me, Leo,” Karl said, holding up a bottle. It was fortified wine from the shop in Race Track City. Karl knew that Leo had not been to Race Track City in the two weeks since the incident. The Barbies hadn’t been invited to the palace either, but they didn’t seem particularly bothered by the fact.
“Welcome, Karl,” Leo said without any particular rancor, but with less real welcome in his tone than Karl was used to from Leo. Still, he did wave Karl to a chair.
Marco Vianetti was standing by the door, like he had been for years. Before the trip to Grantville, Karl would have barely noticed the man. Just one of Leo’s retainers. He would have been perfectly willing to say anything to Leo in front of Marco, because he just assumed that Marco was trustworthy as Leo’s man. And, in truth, Marco probably was trustworthy. But he was also going to talk to the other servants and not all of them would be.
Karl sat down and handed the bottle to Marco. Once the man had poured for them, Karl said, “Marco, with the archduke’s permission, I would like to speak to him privately. Would you mind waiting outside?”