Susana and Zdenka stole through the streets in their hooded cloaks, trying to remember the way to St. Michael's. Susana had been there before, when her father was invited to the dedication after construction was completed, but she'd ridden in the carriage and hadn't paid attention to the directions.
"I think we turn left down there," Zdenka said, pointing to an intersection in front of them. They turned left, and ran into a throng of people all headed north. They saw soldiers dressed in Hapsburg military garb and horses prancing in the excitement.
"What's all this?" Susana asked. "Is it a holiday?"
"I have no idea," Zdenka said.
Susana approached a woman who was standing on the side of the road, slowly waving a white handkerchief up and down as the soldiers passed by.
"Excuse me, Madame," Susana said.
"I don't speak Czech," the woman said in German. Susana switched to German. "Pardon," she said, "but can you tell me what's going on?"
The woman lifted her chin and said, "Your Czech countrymen in Prague have started a war. That's what's going on."
"A war?" Susana asked. "Whatever do you mean?"
"The Czech nobles in Prague threw the Hapsburg leaders out of an upper window of the castle. It's murder, and the murders have caused an uprising. Now even the common folk have turned against the Hapsburgs who have done so much for them. And you, you're one of them, aren't you. I despise you. My son is going off to war because of you." She spat on Susana and stomped away. Susana watched the woman go and then stared at her soiled cloak.
"I'm sorry, Miss," Zdenka said. She used the corner of her apron to wipe the spit off of Susana's cloak.
"It's okay, Zdenka," Susana said. "Don't worry about it. Let's keep going."
They pushed through the crowd. The girls were sweating under their cloaks in the warm springtime air. Susana grabbed Zdenka's hand to make sure she didn't lose her through the busiest intersection.
"Make way! Make way!" a booming voice called. The girls scurried to the far side of the intersection just in time. An entire regiment of uniformed soldiers marched through the street. The girls spun around to watch them pass. The young Hapsburg soldiers looked confident in their brass buckles and clean, white cravats. Their marching feet pounded against the cobblestones. It felt as though the earth were shaking. The soldiers smiled at the girls as they passed. Some soldiers were as small as Zdenka and Susana.
Safely on the other side of the throng, the girls continued their journey toward Stredova Street. As they made their way north, the streets became as quiet as they had been noisy just a few blocks back. Here and there, Czech men and women walked in twos and threes. "It's not going to be good for us," they said in undertones. "Our best strategy is to lay low and not upset them."
The sun was lowering in the afternoon sky, and long, diagonal shadows fell across the tall buildings.
"There's St. Michael's!" Susana said, pointing to a spire above a row of rooftops. They wound their way around another narrow block until they arrived at the steps of the silent, white church. Susana remembered the last time she'd been at the church, seated on stands erected for the Czech nobility, smiling at all the people as her father shook hands with the architect, the bishop, and the other Czech nobles. The Margrave had even been present. His beautiful, young bride had been the talk of the event.
"I think Stredova Street is that way," Zdenka said, pointing northeast.
"Yes, that sounds right," said Susana.
Very narrow and shaded, Stredova Street was more a back alley than a thoroughfare. Shop owners were beginning to pull carts and baskets of goods inside their tiny shops as the trading day came to a close. Luckily, it was a short street as well as a narrow one, so anyone should know where Filip lived.
"Excuse me," Susana said to a man carrying his leather goods back inside his shop. "I'm looking for Filip Timko. Do you know where he lives?"
The man lifted an eyebrow as he eyed the hooded cloaks.
"Does he know you?" the man asked.
"Yes," Susana said. "Could you tell me where I can find him?"
The man set down the crate of leather pouches he'd been carrying and pointed to one of the narrow two-story buildings down the street. The tall buildings kept the sun from shining in the middle of the street. "That there is Mrs. Timko's boarding house. His mother's. She'll be able to help you."
"Thank you, Sir," Susana said. She motioned to Zdenka to follow her and crossed the street to Mrs. Timko's boarding house.
Although the street had been shady, their eyes had to adjust once again inside the boarding house. It was dark and small, greasy and stale. A large fireplace dominated the front room, and a large cauldron of soup bubbled over a dwindling fire. Mrs. Timko stood over the cauldron and stirred the soup. She lifted the wooden spoon to her wrinkled lips and tasted it. "Needs salt," she said. With her stooped back, Mrs. Timko could easily walk into the fireplace, and the girls watched as she salted and stirred the soup some more.
"Now then," she said, wiping her wrinkled fingers on her apron. "What can I do for you girls?"
"We're looking for your son Filip," Susana said. "He works for my father, and I'm hoping that Filip knows of a way to reach my father while he's in Vienna." Mrs. Timko looked the girls over skeptically. "It's an emergency," Susana went on. "My mother is very ill, and I think my father could help if we could just find him and get him home."
The woman hobbled closer to the girls. "You say that Filip works for your father?" she asked.
Susana nodded.
"He's down the street now, helping Wenceslas with his accounts. I'm afraid that you would be a disruption to his work," Mrs. Timko said.
"Do you know when he'll be done?" Susana asked.
"Couldn't say," she said. "I'd go down there and talk to him myself, but I can't leave the boarding house, of course."
Zdenka stepped forward, "If you please, Ma'am, I could stay here and tend your soup and watch the boarding house for you while you go talk to Filip. I'm a servant. I know what I'm doing." She smiled.
"A servant, are you?" Mrs. Timko said. "Take off those hoods. I want a better look at you." Mrs. Timko inspected them from all angles. "Can you see?" she asked, getting to close to Zdenka's squinty eyes. Zdenka nodded. "How many fingers am I holding up?" Mrs. Timko picked up her long wooden spoon and held it in front of Zdenka's face."
"Aw, Miss," Zdenka said, laughing. Mrs. Timko cackled and hit her knee with the end of the spoon.
"Well, all right. You look like good girls, and there's nothing here for you to steal. I could use a bit of fresh air." Mrs. Timko took off her apron and hung it on a peg near the door. She smoothed her gray curls back, pinched Zdenka's cheek, and walked out the door.
As soon as she left, Zdenka began tidying the room up and wiping the large timber table in the center of the room. Susana stood at the window and watched for Filip. A few minutes later she saw Mrs. Timko and Filip walking up to the boarding house. Filip's brow was furrowed behind his round spectacles.
When he walked over the threshold and saw Susana standing at the window, he dropped his head. "Hello, Miss Loboda," he said.
"Hello, Mr. Timko, could I speak with you, please?"
"Shall we speak outdoors?" he asked.
"Very well," Susana said. "Zdenka, would you mind staying here with Mrs. Timko for a few minutes?"
Filip and Susana walked out into the now-dusky street. "Mr. Timko, I'm sorry to bother you, but I didn't know who else to talk to. You see, my mother is desperately ill, and I think if my father comes back from his trip, he can help her to get well again. The only trouble is that I don't know how to reach him. I thought of you because you work on my father's accounts, so you must know where he is. Do you? Can you help me?"
"I'm afraid I can't help you, Miss," Filip said. He looked up the street and down it; he looked anywhere but at Susana.
"You don't know where he is?" she asked.
"I can't help you," he said again. This time he said it more quietly. Susana let his words sink in.
He started to take a step away from her when she said, "Do you mean that you can't help me or that you won't help me?"
"I wish it were that simple," he said.
"What do you mean? It is as simple as anything. I just need an address in Vienna or a way to send my father a letter. A woman's life is at stake!" she said.
Filip looked at the young woman in front of him—really looked at her. She looked so different from the Susana he'd danced with at the Schleigels only a few weeks before. Then, she had looked like a spoiled rich girl, pretty in her flouncy dress, utterly content with the world. Now she had worry on her forehead and a desperate look in her eyes. The bottom of her dress was dusty from a long walk through town. She bit her bottom lip as she stood there in front of him, and he realized that he held great power.
Filip took off his round spectacles, and the world around him became a blur. He saw a blur standing before him: an oval face, brown hair, a long green dress. He could speak with her honestly now. His narrow face now looked younger and exposed.
"If I tell you," he said, "you must swear to me that you won't breathe a word of what I say."
"I promise," she said.
"Miss Loboda," he said, clutching his spectacles with both hands, "your father. He's not in Vienna."
Susana cocked her head to the side and furrowed her eyebrows. "What do you mean?"
Filip looked at the blur in front of him and was glad he couldn't see her face. "He meant to go to Vienna. He was on his way out of town when he was arrested," Filip said. "He's in debtor's prison."
Susana was silent. She scrutinized his face, searching for the hint of a joke or a twitch, but she saw nothing.
"That's not possible!" Susana whispered. "My father is one of Brno's most successful businessmen. Everyone knows that. How could you say such a thing?"
"Please don't breathe a word of this to anyone. It is imperative that you keep quiet. No one knows of his whereabouts. It's essential that people continue to think that he is in Vienna. It's for your own good. I'm working very hard to figure this out so he can be free to return to you and your mother and so he can earn a living."
Suddenly, Susana felt very tired and very hungry. The sun had sunk below the tall buildings on the other side of the street.
"Why has he not sent a letter to tell us where he is?" she asked quietly. Sadness replaced the rage in her voice.
Filip put his glasses back on. "What would he say?" he asked. He shrugged his narrow shoulders.
Susana nodded her head and looked at the ground. "Do you think I could send him a message?" she asked.
"I think that could be arranged," Filip said. "But please don't try to go to the prison yourself. Come to me, and I'll make sure he gets it. As I said before, you must not say anything to anyone, even if they ask you, about where he is or what has happened to him. It could ruin your family if you do."
She looked so sad, Filip thought, so naive. "You must be tired," Filip said. "Come in and have a bowl of soup before you go home."
Susana followed him into the dank boarding house.
Zdenka helped Mrs. Timko set the table for the boarders as Mrs. Timko said, "My father took one look at Mr. Timko and said, 'You'll do,' and so ever after, every time Mr. Timko walked in from a long day in the field he'd look at the supper on the table and then give me a kiss and say, 'You'll do.'" She laughed, a high-pitched peal, accompanied by Zdenka's low giggle. They both spun around when Filip and Susana walked in.
Filip whispered something in his mother's ear, and Mrs. Timko said, "Would you girls care for a bowl of soup before you leave?"
"Yes, please," Susana said. She pulled a coin out of her pocket and handed it to Mrs. Timko. Mrs. Timko's eyes got wide at the sight of the silver coin.
"And perhaps some bread, too?" she said as she pocketed the coin.
After the girls ate, Filip walked them down to the corner.
"It would be best if you didn't write me any letters regarding the topic we spoke of earlier," Filip said, glancing at Zdenka.
"Of course," Susana said. "But may I come talk to you if I need to?"
"Yes, anytime," he said. "In fact, you could send me a brief message summoning me to your home and I could come to you. But we shouldn't write anything specific down. Do you understand?"
"Yes," she said. "I understand."
Filip looked at the darkening sky. "I don't think it's safe for you two to be out alone," he said. "I'll walk with you." And the three set out toward the Loboda Estate.