Master Pohrobek

by Val Votrin

Part 1 appears in this issue.

conclusion

The morning after the strange visit, Jan woke up and saw that everything outside was covered with snow. White snow, black houses. But different, brighter colours prevailed in Jan’s workshop: red, and gold, and green, and azure, the heraldic colours of the four kingdoms. That morning, it became known to the residents of Prague that the king Ladislaus had died. The whole city whispered about the king’s sudden death, about a conspiracy at the court, about poisoning. But those rumours completely escaped Jan. He got immersed in his work.

He decided to start from the Bohemian suit. After all, this is where he was supposed to have the best knowledge of the ranks and human characters. Very soon though, had he to admit that his knowledge of the royal court was confined to a very few commonly known facts and, even worse, there was no one around him who could confide that vital information to him.

Yes, the duties of some court official roles were quite clear to him. For instance, the Royal Falconer would be the one who cares for the king’s hunting birds. The Chamberlain manages the royal household. The Royal Trumpeter is the one who plays those fanfare trumpets during important ceremonies. But where do they stand in an official court hierarchy? Is the Chamberlain higher than the Marshal? It was clear as day that the King was on the top, but who would hold the lowest rank? A royal hunter? A cook? A maid?

Trying to undo this knot, Jan made several sketches depicting those court officials — the Falconer, the Marshal, the Hofmeister, the Maid, the Chamberlain — and began to place the sketches in different orders right on the floor of his studio. Hours passed but his attempts were fruitless. This was clearly not the way to get more understanding of the matter. At some point Jan found himself sitting in a chair, completely exhausted.

It was late evening. Outside a blizzard was raging. Jan spent all day in vain attempts to figure out probably the most intricate thing on earth: the royal court, a mazy web of kinships, a tangle of intrigues, hatred and evil ways, a knot of power struggles.

Oddly enough, all way through his work he felt that the youth had never left his house. That he was present in the workshop, watching his efforts. By the end of the day, this sensation became so strong that Jan called out suddenly, “Your Grace!”

For a moment, he questioned his sanity but instantly saw a shadow in the corner move and step forward. The youth looked paler and more fragile now, his thin face sad and solemn.

“Your Grace!” uttered Jan, dumbfounded. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, let it pass,” said the youth. “Ah, these are the sketches, aren’t they? Very nice. And I love the choice of the colours.”

“Your Grace,” said Jan firmly, “I need help. You see, I have never been at the court. I have very little knowledge of the court ranks.”

“Never been at the court? Isn’t it lovely?”

“Never in my life! You can see that I have started the work. But, in all honesty, I do not know how to go about it.”

“A cinch,” said the youth. “Let’s start from the top rank. Who do you think that would be?”

“I do not know for sure,” said Jan. “But, just because you are asking, I think this will be a Fool. From what I hear only the court jester is allowed to tell the truth to the monarchs and oftentimes is the only adviser to them.”

The youth looked amused. “Very clever,” he said with a laugh. “A fool advising the ruler! I have never thought of it this way. No, my precious man, I have a more traditional view of this. I must admit that the King is the person the least deserving of the absolute power he is endowed with. Yet he should get the highest rank in our deck. Who do you think is the next lower rank?”

“The Hofmeister?”

“You’ve guessed it right. The Hofmeister, that is, the wiliest of all grandees, the shrewd one, the Lord Liar. The next?”

“I am not sure about this one. It’s either the Marshal or the Chamberlain.”

“No, no. Not the Chamberlain. The Marshal is the third most powerful man at the court. He runs the people and sometimes overruns them, risking to be overrun himself. Who would overrun him?”

“The King?”

“Oh, the King would have loved to overrun this rascal. But there are so many who are willing to sort the Marshal so the King just chooses to stand aside and watch with some immeasurable pleasure. The next one?”

“The Chamberlain, I presume.”

“Wait for that one. Enter the Doctor. The leech. The physic. The quack. The ill healer responsible for hundreds of deaths. Who will not die under his care will be poisoned by his merciful hand. Next!”

“Er... the Chamberlain?”

“Yes! The lord of the household and the chief thief. Acts first to steal anything that is not watched, especially as he is the one to watch after those things. Good, you are learning fast. Who is the next?”

“The Herald?”

“Not yet. There are the Maid and the Falconer that should go before him.”

“And who goes after the Herald, Your Grace?”

“I know not, nor can I guess. Put someone down there. A shoemaker?”

“I’ll put the Potter.”

“Just right. And your favourite, the Fool, should come last. Although... let’s assign number 1 to him. Give proper respect to the wise man. So much for it. I am tired and must go.”

“Your Grace!”

“What else?”

“There are three more suits where I am not able to make head or tail of the hierarchies!”

“Ah, I almost forgot about them. Well, I am not able to make head or tail of them, either. Make something up. The Maid would be the Maid elsewhere. And the Chamberlain would be...”

“The Butler in France and the Royal Chef in Hungary?”

“Exactly. What about the Falconer?”

“The Cup-Bearer and the Archer?”

“Good enough. Just use your imagination with those strange courts.”

Just as he turned round, Jan called out again, “Your Grace, pray, you told me that your paymaster would come soon. Is he coming at all?”

“He will come,” said the youth not turning his head. “Very soon.”

Over the next day, Jan drew passionately, producing dozens of sketches and finishing off some cards. He stopped being preoccupied with possible inconsistencies across different court hierarchies and concentrated on the quality of the paintings instead. He would only take short pauses to think about the closest rank equivalent but did not spend much time on that. The Trumpeter in Germany? The Barber! The Potter in Hungary? The Baker! The Doctor in France? The Lady Comptroller! And only the Fool was the same Fool across all four courts.

Jan fell asleep at his desk in the middle of the night, sinking his head on the unfinished sketches. He was awakened in the morning by the hammering on the door. At his doorstep stood George of Podebrady, The King’s Hofmeister, a dumpy, gloomy man, dark of face and hair. He was surrounded by his men, all armed to the teeth as if they were going to take Jan’s house by storm.

“There you go,” remarked George of Podebrady. “Look at him, lads! He is all shaking. Had a rough night, eh? Those painters!”

Shoving Jan aside, the Hofmeister came in and stood in the middle of the workshop. “People say you are very busy. People say you’ve set aside my cards and are working on something else. Is that true?”

“But,” said Jan, “I told you I had to finish other commissions before starting on your deck.”

“I wonder,” said George of Podebrady, coming closer to him, “who is this customer of yours? I wonder if he thinks he is more important than the Hofmeister of the Royal Court?”

He looked around and saw the sketches. “Is that what you are working on?” he said. “What is this?” He fell silent and starting examining the paintings, his face growing darker and darker. “Who ordered this?” he said, his voice trembling with anger. “Our potter is likened with a fishmonger in Hungary! Our noble falconer is a pitiful cook in France! You must tell me who has ordered this!”

“I do not know his name,” said Jan. “He is a young man of noble kin.”

“Of noble kin!” said George of Podebrady. “Look at this Bohemian Hofmeister. Do I look like this bearded monster in a silly hat? Did your customer tell you to make a laughing stock of all of us, this young man of noble kin?”

“He did not want me to reach the full similarity with any living person,” said Jan. “His intention is to use this set as a guide for his subordinates to familiarise them with the social ranks in different countries. He says that the best way to learn is through play.”

“I will find him,” said the Hofmeister, tearing apart the painting. “By God, I will find him! He will pay dearly for these plays of his. And you, you drop this immediately and get to my deck. I will come back the day after tomorrow. The deck must be finished by then, understood?”

Jan was silent.

“Well, this is my order,” said the Hofmeister and left the house.

Jan stood in the doorway watching after him and his men turning the corner. It was snowing again. The air was frosty, biting. There were no colours in the world.

Listlessly Jan returned to the house and sank in his chair. He sat there gazing into space until afternoon. It was a strangle slumber without dreams, a grey oblivion.

He woke out of this trance feeling cold. The fireplace went out. Jan stood up and hobbled to the wood storage rack. There was no wood there; he had to come down to the stack of firewood at the yard.

When he returned with an armful of firewood, worn out with this effort, shivering with cold, the noble youth had already been waiting for him in the workshop. It seemed that during Jan’s brief absence the house had grown even colder; the air was frosty; Jan could see his breath.

The youth looked as if he was made of frost: silvery, almost transparent.

“You are almost done,” he said, pointing out at the sketches and paintings around the room. “There is little left.”

“Yes,” said Jan. “Just let me light up the fire and have a bite. I am starving and freezing.”

“Yes, of course,” said the youth. “But hurry up. It is time for me to go.”

Hastily Jan lit up the fire and ate some bread with cheese.

“Well now,” said the youth impatiently. “Get to work, will you? There is a very little left. This Bohemian King is almost ready, see? And this Bohemian Hofmeister, I think I saw it finished last time?”

“The Hofmeister was here,” said Jan. “The real one, George of Podebrady. He... did not like it and tore it to pieces.”

“Did he? How nice of him! We need a different Hofmeister, don’t we?”

Jan was putting the finishing touches on the King’s painting. The youth eyed it thoughtfully and said, “Marvellous! I have never seen such a beautiful King!”

Jan sat, feeling utterly exhausted. “I am so tired,” he said in a low voice. “Let me have some rest.”

“No, my precious,” said the youth. “I can’t let you do that. We need to hurry up.”

He stayed in the workshop several hours while Jan was finishing the Hofmeister card. When it was finished, the youth looked at it and said after a pause, “You are a great master, Jan. I must take you to my court.”

“Much obliged, Your Grace,” said Jan, not quite getting the meaning of his own words.

“You are very tired, my darling. Go have some rest. We have a long journey to make.”

“A journey?” asked Jan half-asleep. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a long way to go. Far, far away.”

Next day George of Podebrady was present at the funeral of the young king Ladislaus called the Posthumous. But, albeit being very busy at the funeral, the Hofmeister found the time to send his men to Jan Pohrobek’s place to collect the Bohemian cards.

When the Hofmeister’s armed men broke down the door into Jan’s house, they saw the place inside was glazed with ice; the fireplace was cold as if not lit for a long time; giant icicles hung from the ceiling.

They found the painter in the chair near his desk. He looked as if he was sleeping but was as cold as everything else in his house.

On his desk lay what has since been known as the Hofämterspiel, the deck of the Courtly Household Cards. The Bohemian cards commissioned by George were nowhere to be found, so the Hofmeister’s men took the new cards and brought them to the Hofmeister who was soon to become the new king of Bohemia.

He discovered that the face of the Bohemian King was that of the late Ladislaus. And the late artist had the audacity to paint himself as the Hofmeister.

But overall he quite liked the cards. The idea was pretty extravagant, but the execution was fine. Despite his glaring lack of knowledge of court ranks, the artist was a great master.