It was, however, not an easy decision, because the girl he had met was of quite humble origin.
Her parents were cultured people, but their blood was certainly not blue as was to be expected of the wife of a reigning Prince.
The Prince was still determined to marry her and while he was arguing with his Ministers and relations, one of them approached the girl he loved.
He told her she would ruin the Prince's life and his career if he married her.
She loved him as passionately as he loved her and she believed that he was the man she had been waiting and praying for.
Therefore she felt to lose him would be so painful that she could not go on living.
She wrote to him to say that she was not worthy of him and rather than upset his life she would return to God from where she had come and pray for his happiness.
When the Prince received her message, he became distraught at what she had written.
He rushed to her father's house across the river to find her, but he was too late.
She had climbed to the very top of a high mountain and there she had prayed and prayed for many hours before she threw herself into the river far below.
When they found her body on the jagged rocks, she still looked very lovely and ethereal.
Her eyes were firmly closed, as if she had been in prayer and yet there was a faint smile on her lips because she had been thinking of the man she loved.
She had sacrificed herself for him.
Now the Prince had no wish to live his life without her, so he left the Palace surrendering the throne to a relative.
Next he built a small Shrine to his beloved at the top of the mountain from which she had thrown herself.
He stayed there in a small bare room attached to the Shrine for the rest of his life.
His people begged him to return, but each time he refused telling them that if they came to him with their problems, he would do his best to solve them.
He lived to a great old age and many miracles were attributed to him.
Finally he was canonized by the Church of Rome.
The Shrine remained and many pious pilgrims from Valdina, Hungary and nearby countries like Moravia and Silesia visited it in the summer months.
In the winter it was quite impossible to get through the snow and the people said that no man could survive in such cold unless he himself was a God.
In fact St. Janos lived, it was believed, until he was over eighty, but those who visited the Shrine felt his spirit was still there.
When they prayed, they claimed they always found the answer to their problems.
Attila now thought that only St. Janos could save her father from the disease for which no doctor had a cure.
Perhaps as well he would give her an answer to her need for love.
Father Jozsef was watching her face.
He saw that her eyes were shining as she asked,
“Can we really go to the Shrine? Would it not be too far for you?”
“Nothing is ever too far if it is of real importance. I know of one thing, my child, that only God can help us and only St. Janos will tell us how.”
“Then let us go,” cried Attila. “If he will save Papa, nothing could be too far. And perhaps as you say St. Janos will tell me now to find the real love I wish for.”
“Which we all want,” Father Jozsef added quietly, “and that, my child, is what you must have.”
She stayed with him for a long time while he made plans.
Of one thing Attila was certain and it was that her stepmother would try to prevent her from leaving.
“What I must now do,” she said, “is to tell Papa at the last moment and make him promise to pray, as we shall be praying, until we reach St. Janos.”
Father Jozsef smiled before he added,
“I think it unlikely that anything evil will disturb us in any way.”
Attila knew how well respected he was by everyone in Valdina and they were very proud of him because he had been with them for so long.
If a peasant couple or for that matter anyone was to be married at the Cathedral, they would inevitably seek a blessing from Father Jozsef.
Attila often thought that because the people of Valdina believed in him so sincerely, it was on the whole a very happy nation.
“How soon shall we go, Father?”
“I have to get ready my travelling carriage which I have not used for so long,” replied Father Jozsef. “And of course find two fine horses to pull it.”
Attila made a gesture with her hands.
“Our stables are at your disposal, as always.”
Father Jozsef smiled.
In the days when he rode a great deal the King had always mounted him and any of the horses in the Royal stables were at his beck and call.
He had been, when he was a young man, a very experienced horseman and Attila knew that he still rode if someone was dying and required his blessing.
“You are quite certain,” she entreated, “that you do not think it will be too much for you? It is a long way, Father, and I could not bear you to be ill or suffer because you are helping me.”
“I know it is God's will that I should take you to the Shrine of St. Janos,” stated Father Jozsef vigorously.
The way he spoke told Attila that he did not wish to discuss the matter any further.
She therefore said,
“Thank you. Thank you, Father. I knew you would not fail me and if our prayers can make Papa better that will be a miracle all on its own.”
“I feel sure that he will recover, my child, but of course it is in the hands of God.”
“Then when shall we go?”
“In three day's time and with the exception of your father, who we will talk to the night before we leave, no one must have the slightest idea of where we are going.”
Attila realised he was thinking of her stepmother as well as the Prime Minister and the Members of the Council who might say the mission was dangerous.
They would certainly want her to be accompanied by soldiers.
As if Father Jozsef read her thoughts, he said,
“Pilgrims go humbly and we have no wish to draw attention to ourselves by appearing to be of any particular significance.”
Attila smiled.
“I will just have to look like one of your pupils, which is exactly what I am. So thank you, Father. Thank you more than I can possibly say.”
She gave a little sigh.
“I suppose I must be going back. May I go into the Chapel?”
“Yes, of course, you may.”
Father Jozsef did not make a move to accompany her as Attila ran across the garden and up the steps into the Chapel.
As she expected there were flowers on the altar and in every window and the air was filled with the fragrance of incense.
Also there was something Attila had never found in any other Church.
It was an atmosphere of holiness, which at the same time seemed to pulsate with a life force.
It could only have come from God Himself.
Attila sank down on her knees in front of the altar and although Father Jozsef was not with her she knew he was blessing her.
She prayed fervently,
âPlease God restore my Papa to good health. He is so needed here in Valdina and there is no one to take his place.'
She paused and bowed her head low as if she was pleading with God to hear her prayer.
âLet me find love. The true love Papa and Mama had for each other which they always believed came from You. I have no wish to be married except to a man who loves me as a woman not as a Princess and I will love him for himself and for no other reason.'
Her voice dropped as she begged,
âHelp me, God,
please help me
, because I cannot manage my life without You.'
It was a most sincere prayer and Attila felt it was somehow carried up into the sky.
The sunshine coming through the windows seemed to bring her a blessing and she felt sure her prayer had been heard.
Time was passing by and Attila did not want her stepmother to question where she had been.
She left the Chapel after one final prayer.
When she went outside, she saw that Father Jozsef was back working on his flowers.
She ran to him and when he saw the expression on her face, he said,
“I know my child that God has heard your prayer.”
“I will come and see you tomorrow, Father.”
“I think that would be a mistake. As you have not been here for some time, it may seem strange that you are continuously calling on me.”
Attila felt rather guilty, but then he went on,
“We have no wish for anyone except your father to know where we are going or when we leave. I will call on His Majesty at six o'clock the day after tomorrow. Then on the next morning at daybreak before anyone else in the Palace has risen, we will slip away.”
Attila drew in her breath.
“That is such a splendid idea, Father! And you will arrange for the horses?”
“Lamos will do that and if you tell me which horse you wish to ride, he will arrange it.”
Attila thought for a moment.
“I think I would prefer Samson to any other horse I am riding at the moment. He is very strong and also very obedient.”
“Then Lamos will see to it.”
Attila knew that Lamos was a servant who had been with Father Jozsef for many years and he was particularly good with horses.
When Father Jozsef did not need him, he helped in the Royal stables.
He was a strong man and if there was any trouble on their journey, he would deal with robbers or anyone else who might try to detain them.
*
When she returned to the Palace, she was feeling a great deal happier.
She had been shocked and upset by what her father had told her about his illness, but now she felt certain that if they could reach the Shrine of St. Janos, he would be cured.
She realised the doctors who attended to him would be sceptical of such an idea, but where Father Jozsef and the Saint were concerned miracles
did
happen.
That was just what she expected.
When she walked into luncheon she was not alone with her stepmother.
There was the normal collection of two Ladies-in-Waiting and two Equerries as well as one Member of the Cabinet who had been visiting her father.
As he was good-looking the Queen flirted with the Member of the Cabinet throughout the meal thus making it impossible for anyone else to talk to him.
As the luncheon finished he felt he had neglected Attila.
“I am afraid, Your Royal Highness,” he said, “may be finding things a little dull here at the moment. I have not heard of anyone throwing a ball or any other kind of party as it happens.”
“I am quite happy without them,” replied Attila.
“At the same time it is something I must remedy,” the Queen chipped in, “and I think when Prince Otto visits us next week we should have a grand dinner party and a dance afterwards.”
The Member of the Cabinet raised his eyebrows.
“Prince Otto of Dedregen. Is he coming here?”
“He has more or less invited himself,” the Queen answered, “and of course we cannot possibly refuse him. Personally I find him a charming young man.”
The Member of the Cabinet was about to protest that he was anything but charming and then he realised that Attila was beside him.
He obviously thought it would be wrong to mention the scandals surrounding Prince Otto in her presence and Attila was well aware that he had hesitated over what he was about to say.
And then he had bitten back the words.
She thought of saying that she had heard all about the Prince's escapades and therefore she had no wish to meet him, but she thought that as she was going away it would be foolish to cause trouble.
When the Prince did arrive, her stepmother would undoubtedly attempt to make his visit a great success, but fortunately by that time she would be far away on the road to St. Janos!
As they left the dining room table, her stepmother asked,
“What are you doing now, Attila?”
“I am going up to see Papa and if he is asleep, I will not wake him.”
She walked away in a hurry and Queen Margit could not think of any reason to prevent her from going to her father.
Attila knew that the Queen was afraid that if she gave the King information about Prince Otto he did already not know, there was every likelihood he would insist on the visit being cancelled.
âMy stepmother is so determined to be rid of me,' Attila ruminated as she climbed up the stairs.
Once again she was praying very fervently that her father could be saved and that Father Jozsef and she would be able to prove the doctors wrong.
That would be nothing new as all Valdina's doctors were old-fashioned and very out-of-date where medicine was concerned, although they did their best, but Attila had often thought that far too many people died unnecessarily.
Instead of their medicines her mother had believed in the country recipes that had been handed down for generations.
In the past when someone was ill, the White Witch, who existed in most villages, had made them a potion from the herbs growing in the woods, many of which could still be found in the Palace Herb Garden.
They were all simple remedies, but Attila had been given them ever since she was a baby and she had therefore avoided being prescribed for by a doctor.
“If we use the bounty that is given to us by nature, or rather by God,” her mother had said, “they are far more likely to be effective than anything ever invented by man.”
Attila believed this implicitly and she thought now there was every chance that the doctors would be wrong in their diagnosis of her father's condition.
Yet if she said so no one would take any notice of her, least of all her stepmother.
âI am sure if Mama was alive today he would not have become ill,' she thought. âAnd as he has never been really happy with his new wife, perhaps that is one of the reasons why he is so ill now?'
It was, however, something she could not say to her father.