Janos Hunyadi
Late in the afternoon, after the meeting had concluded and the vassals had all withdrawn, I remained alone on the terrace of the Prague Royal Palace.
With my guards dismissed to a distance, I leaned against the railing, and the snow-covered panorama of Prague came into full view.
The streets below looked nothing like the medieval city I had once known. The roads, now that the sewer construction was complete, were neatly paved, and the alleys that had once reeked of filth were now filled with the scent of soap and crisp, clean air.
Perhaps it was the hour for preparing dinner, as white smoke rose from the chimneys of the densely packed houses. Somewhere, the savory aroma of freshly baked bread drifted faintly on the breeze.
It was peaceful.
At this very moment, across the border, the Holy Roman Empire was screaming, engulfed in the flames of famine and rebellion.
It was a strange, serene, and abundant peace that only this city enjoyed.
Whoosh—
A cold December wind brushed against my cheeks. It was a bone-chilling cold, yet strangely, I did not dislike it.
'Has it already been a year?'
I didn't need to check a calendar. This familiar chill, seeping into my marrow, told me the time.
It was exactly one year ago.
That I had opened my eyes on the cold stone floor of Cesky Sternberk Castle.
Back then, I was nothing more than a penniless heir to a lordship with absolutely nothing to my name. A pawn on a chessboard, discarded and thrown away by Emperor Sigismund. A pathetic fate destined to be trampled by the approaching Hussite peasant army and vanish into the pages of history.
But what about now?
The discarded pawn didn't just become a queen; it overturned the rules of the chessboard entirely and became the King. Conversely, the Emperor who had tossed me aside like a worn-out shoe was now screaming with a blade buried deep in the heart of his empire.
'Life is truly unpredictable.'
I was deeply moved.
Knock, knock.
Just then, the door opened quietly, and Janos entered.
"My Lord, I have a report."
His voice was far more subdued and calm than it had been during the meeting earlier.
"Is it about the intelligence department?"
"Yes."
Janos approached the railing and reported in a low voice.
"Mixing the radicals of the Taborites with the Jews sent by Old Man Abraham has created quite a useful information network. With the zeal of fanatics combined with the intelligence-gathering power of merchants, we are in a position where not even a single rat crossing the border will escape our notice."
He pulled a small scrap of parchment from his pocket and handed it to me. It was a short report written in code.
"And... some very interesting news has arrived from Hungary. It's a rumor leaking from deep within the Buda Palace: the Emperor has collapsed from a fit of rage."
I turned to look at Janos.
"Sigismund has collapsed?"
"They say he foamed at the mouth and fell over upon hearing the news of the German rebellion. He hasn't shown his face in public for days since, so there is talk in some quarters that he is already dead."
The death of Sigismund.
If the intelligence Janos brought was true, this was a massive variable that could turn the tide of the war in an instant. It meant that the only center of gravity holding the giant known as the Empire together had evaporated.
However, I did not rejoice prematurely.
"So, you mean there is no concrete evidence."
"Yes. The security inside the palace is so tight that his exact status cannot be confirmed."
"Verify it further. Second and third-level verification is necessary."
Rumors in the Middle Ages were not to be trusted. They changed shape with the slightest breeze, and every time they passed through people's lips, they grew like monsters.
It was common knowledge in this era that if a king merely coughed, rumors would spread the next day that he had died of consumption, and if a local skirmish was lost, false rumors would circulate that an entire legion had been annihilated.
Take the intelligence that came up from the southern Rataje region just a few months ago, for instance. The absurd news that over a hundred Cuman stragglers who had fled the Battle of Malesov were found annihilated in a forest near Rataje after just a single night. The local residents were going around claiming that some blacksmith's son had slaughtered the Cumans single-handedly, but to my eyes, it was no different from a hero's tale made up by a third-rate minstrel.
'It must have been a plague.'
The Cumans, being nomads, had zero concept of hygiene. They would have set up camp in the forest without digging proper latrines, drank water contaminated by their own waste, and huddled together to escape the cold. Having lived and eaten next to filth with wounded bodies, it would have been strange if dysentery or typhus hadn't broken out. If they were wiped out overnight, an acute waterborne epidemic was the most likely cause. That 'blacksmith's son' probably just happened upon a camp full of sick men dying in their own excrement and finished off a few who were already on the threshold of death.
"In any case, do not listen to floating rumors. Only what you see with your own eyes and hear with your own ears is the truth."
"I will keep that in mind."
I gestured lightly for him to withdraw, then turned back to gaze at the snowy landscape beyond the railing. However, the presence behind me remained.
I turned my head again, feeling puzzled.
"Why? Do you have something to say?"
"That..."
Janos stood awkwardly in place, his lips trembling with an uncharacteristic look of distress. He lowered his gaze to the floor and then back to me several times. He finally broke the awkward silence and spoke cautiously.
"My Lord, are you truly sure about this?"
"About what?"
"Entrusting someone like me with such a momentous position as the head of the Royal Intelligence Agency. Of all people, to a guy like me."
Janos scratched the back of his head with an uncertain expression.
"An intelligence agency—isn't that the head of the shadows, responsible for the King's eyes and ears? To entrust such authority to a foreigner, and one who hasn't even been vetted... it's obvious there will be gossip at court."
"Are you worried about what others think now?"
"I say this for your sake, My Lord, not mine."
Janos's expression hardened seriously. The usual playful look was nowhere to be found.
"The nobles are whispering. They ask why a Hungarian brat like me is the King's closest aide, and why you trust a foreigner of unknown origins so much."
His point was accurate. Janos was a Hungarian. And in the current Bohemian court, where Czech nationalism was rampant, his existence was clearly alien. In fact, petitions demanding that I distance myself from Janos had already landed on my desk several times.
"So? Should I fire you?"
"I'm just telling you to be careful. A dog that doesn't know its master will bite the hand that feeds it."
He smirked and returned to his characteristic cynical expression. I leaned against the railing and scrutinized Janos's face. Sharp eyes, a physique sturdier than his peers, and an extraordinary brilliance hidden behind a mask of indifference.
"What are you worried about? That you're too young? That you're Hungarian?"
"Well, there's that..."
"Or is it because you're a spy sent by Sigismund?"
The laughter vanished from Janos's face as if it were a lie. His hand, which had been scratching his head, froze in mid-air.
Whoosh—
The air on the terrace froze instantly, colder than the December wind.
"...Did you know?"
"How could I not?"
I replied calmly.
"The Emperor must have sent you to the Sternberg family as a servant to monitor the movements of Bohemia... or, to be precise, to monitor me, the heir to the throne. You, the son of the Hunyadi family, a Hungarian noble."
Janos did not answer. Silence was an admission. His fingers twitched minutely near the dagger at his waist. It must have been the instinctive defense mechanism of a spy whose cover had been blown. But he did not draw his blade. Instead, he clenched his fist so tightly that the back of his hand turned white.
"Knowing that, why...?"
He gritted his teeth and forced the words out with difficulty.
"Why did you keep me by your side? Why did you entrust your back to a spy who might stab you at any moment?"
My answer was concise.
"Because you didn't stab me."
Trust is not built with words. It is proven only through actions.
"You had plenty of opportunities to betray me. If you wanted to run, a year ago, when the Hussites besieged the castle, would have been the perfect time. Back then, I was nothing but a penniless lord with nothing to my name. But you didn't run."
I took a step toward him, frozen as he was.
"When the Emperor's army advanced, you could have secretly opened the castle gates. You could have cut my throat while I slept and offered it to Sigismund. For a spy, there would have been no greater achievement. But you didn't do that."
Instead, you stood on the walls of Sternberg, rolling through mud and pools of blood, and guarded my side the entire time. You wielded your sword to protect me against the very army of the Emperor that had sent you.
Of course, I know his future. Janos Hunyadi. The shield of the Christian world, called the White Knight, who would later hold back the Ottoman Empire. The calculation that such a historical figure would not commit a cowardly betrayal certainly existed in a corner of my mind.
But the reason I trust him now is not because of such historical knowledge. I trust this boy standing before me right now.
The guy who, while grumbling and complaining, stood at the forefront to protect me in moments of crisis more than anyone else. The one who wielded his sword with blistered hands and never once shirked his duty... my knight, who, while cursing my insane plans as preposterous, ended up executing them more perfectly than anyone else.
That is this very Janos Hunyadi.
"Janos, the spy sent by the Emperor, died on the walls of Sternberg that day."
I reached out and gripped his rigid shoulder firmly.
"Standing before me now is only a knight of Bohemia and a loyal servant to whom I can entrust my back. Am I wrong?"
Janos's pupils shook violently. He bit his lip hard, then dropped his head with a deep sigh. The fist he had been clenching slowly relaxed.
"...I truly cannot win against you, My Lord."
His voice was damp, as if filled with moisture.
"I knew you were a madman, but I didn't know it was to this extent. Sleeping with an enemy spy by your side."
"They say there's only a thin line between a genius and a madman."
"That's not a compliment."
He smirked. I shrugged and laughed along with him.
"Prove it, Director of Intelligence. If the guilt of having deceived me for the past year weighs on your heart, pay me back with your competence. The price you must pay me is secrets, lies, and the heads of my enemies."
"Ha..."
Janos let out a light chuckle. The anxiety and tension that had been deep in his eyes vanished as if washed away, and in their place was a different kind of cold, solid resolve.
"I accept your command."
Janos replied, kneeling on one knee.
"The eyes, ears, and sword of this Janos Hunyadi will exist only for my Lord, Ulrich von Sternberg. So that the rats of the Empire dare not even step on your shadow... I will be the first to cut their throats in the darkness."