VALINT

A Warrior Poet in the Age of Chivalry

SERIES PITCH & TREATMENT

by Scott Alexander Young
Of all the fascinating eras in Central European history, none is more
dramatic or romantic than the ‘Game of Thrones’ played out in and around
16th Century Hungary. The tableau before us is as rich as anything found
in the history or fantasy genres. It’s the Crescent vs the Cross on the
battlefield, with Transylvania in revolt against the Hapsburgs, as the
Ottoman Empire is ruled from a Harem, and Ivan the Terrible is living up
to his name in Russia, while the quite mad gay Emperor Rudolph, with his
magic fixations, sits on the throne in Vienna!
Our guide through this picaresque scene is a warrior poet, named Valint
Balassi. Valint is many things; a soldier, a wordsmith, a horse trader, an
aristocrat, a spy and a thief, a gambler and drinking man, but more than
anything he is a lover - and it is his questing heart that gets Valint into
trouble, not his alliances or antagonisms with warring factions. This likable
rogue doesn’t care for politics, but gets caught up in them anyway.
Valint’s great loves include Lady Celia Losonczy, the diabolical Countess
Erszébet Báthory, and ‘Sapphire’, who guides the course of the Ottoman
Empire from her divan. His friends and rivals include Francis, the Black
Knight of Hungary, Stefan Bathory, the Transylvanian King of Poland,
and the Ottoman ruler Sultan Selim, known forever in history as Selim
the Drunkard. Valint also has a faithful manservant, the seemingly slow
but actually quite cunning giant of a lad, named Fisko.

This has potential either a series of films made for television, or a

television series, but Valint as scripted begins with Part One –– An
Expensive Education, in which our hero loses his innocence, and sets out
on the road for all the adventures to follow.

Tableau
In an age before anyone thought about writing for money, the Hungarian
warrior poet Valint Balassi poured his heart into verse that, more than
anything, was the poetry of romantic obsession. From the high soaring
emotions and tenderness of courtly love, to the base and worldly lusts of
his erotic verse, Valint’s poetry spans the emotional gamut. So too does
this intended series of films, which are about nothing, if not about passion.
The first renaissance poet, yet last of the troubadours, Valint Balassi is
also soldier, spy, lover - and our boon companion.

VALINT will transport audiences to a time and place that seems as remote
to us today as mythical King Arthur. Yet the title character, his friends and
foe all struggle with questions that still trouble us today: What hope does
true love have in this world? What price can we put on secrets, if at all?
What war was ever truly a Holy War? And even, what is the role of an
artist: to be a mere court jester, or something more dangerous?

The setting is like something from a Dark Fairytale, only this is from the
history books, not children’s stories. We are in Hungary in the 1500s: A
theatre of war, divided into three parts. The Turks rule Central Hungary,
including Buda and Pest, the Hapsburg dynasty governs Western Hungary
and only in the South does Hungary ‘belong to the Hungarians’; They are
a loose alliance of freebooters, many of them loyal to the legendary
Báthory clan. But then Renaissance Era Europe, from the Tatras to the
Caspian Sea is a hot-bed of intrigue, where fierce rivalry, violence and
betrayal are all just business as usual. As is soon apparent, the contest
between the Ottoman armies and Christian defenders is brutal.
Yet the divisions between Hungarian clans such as the Habsburgs and the
Báthorys can be just as bitter. The Christian/Islamic religious conflict has
obvious relevance to our own nervous times but this is also an era of
magic, of superstition and the diabolical; Dracula himself is not all that
long dead, and Hungary’s ‘Blood Countess’ Erzsébet Báthory is at large –
she will even feature as a character.

It is against this background that young Balassi is determined to make his

mark; in battle and bedchamber, and as a bard. VALINT will shine a light
on an archetypal wild frontier, through the eyes of larger-than-life
characters. We will get involved with people who are morally ambiguous;
lusty, violent and untrustworthy - but also madly interesting; bringing
war-torn Transylvania and the lusty Renaissance back to full-blooded life.
VALINT is based on the life and times of an actual historical figure, but is
an original concept.

An Expensive Education
90 minute pilot episode

The year is 1594, the scene, another Turkish siege on a Hungarian castle
– Esztergom (Water Town) to be precise. Standing firm at the ramparts,
fighting back the Ottoman janissaries, is a handsome Hungarian rogue. He
has either a death-wish or matchless courage, you decide which! Not only
does he send the invading Turks and their siege ladders falling backwards
but, leading them with Hungarian song and battle cries, he rallies the
dispirited Hungarian troops and townsfolk to rejoin the fight. Then disaster
strikes. This natural leader is felled by a cannon blast, riddling both his
legs below the knees with gunpowder.
Minutes later, delirious, he is carried on a stretcher to a makeshift hospital
on the castle grounds. A ‘barber surgeon’ examines his wounds and
declares that he will have to amputate both legs below the knee. ‘Send for
a Priest, or a Wizard’! The injured man cries – but the gruesome operation
begins anyway. With the cheers of Hungarians celebrating victory – a
victory he helped bring about – the man passes from this world to the
next. ‘I was your soldier my Lord, and served in your host’ are his last
words on this earth, as all the choirs in heaven sing for the fallen soldier.

With the scratch of a quill on parchment, this glorious death is recorded

decades later in an oak-panelled library. The elderly scholar notes that the
death of Valint Balassi at 39 was hardly a surprise. With decades of
warring, duelling, brawling, gambling, wenching and a life on the road
behind him, it was a miracle he hadn’t been killed before. What is peculiar
is that the elderly man could be an older version of the slain warrior. He
insists that the roots of

Valint’s downfall can be traced to his misspent youth. The courtyard of

Zvolen Castle, the Balassi family seat. A 17 year old Valint is fencing with
his 15 year old cousin, Melchior. His father coaches them both from the
sideline, dispensing advice about swordplay, but also about gentlemanly
conduct - chivalry, in a word. It is clear there is great affection between
father and son. It is the year 1570, and the adolescent Valint is handsome
and full of mischief but also promise. From his Castle keeper father Janos,
he has learned not only the art of war, but also of politicking; from his
beautiful mother Anna, a love of music and poetry; and from Bornemiss,
his tutor, philosophy and white Magic.

In a wonderful room that is a combination of scholar’s study and

alchemist’s laboratory, Valint receives instruction from Bornemiss. A
seemingly Ancient sage, he reminds Valint of the lessons he has taught
him:- mastering any language, transforming his appearance, and
enduring the elements. But the alternately gentle and fierce old man has
harsh words for his pupil too. Unless Valint can learn discretion, none of
these arts will do him any good.

Tearfully, Valint embraces him and wishes him farewell. On the morrow,
he will travel to the Viennese court with his parents, his first such outing.
Before they set out, he spends some time with his mother Anna, a comely
and rather regal woman. She is a Religious Zealot – but her zeal is for
tolerance. This at a time when enmity between Catholic and Protestant
can be as deadly as between Christian and Muslim. She is a fervent
supporter of Sigmund Zapolya, the so-called ‘Prince of Transylvania and
ruler of a part of the Kingdom of Hungary’. Indeed, she intends to use this
visit to the Emperor to implore him to rule, in harmony, with the ‘King in
the East’ as the people call him. Already astute at 17, Valint wonders if
this is one time where truly, discretion might not only be honourable, but
also wise.
Valint is presented at the Imperial Court in Vienna, where he makes a
great impression on Emperor Maximilian II. His repute as a young poet
and wit has preceded him, and he is asked to declaim some of his verse.
Some of the young Valint Balassi’s verse is risqué but the courtiers take
their cue from the Emperor - and laugh almost as much as he does, at the
bawdy bard.

Later, in the evening, at a Masque ball held at the Palace, Valint falls in
love at first sight and for the first time, with the headstrong and seductive
Celia Losonczy, an auburn haired beauty a few years older than him. So
far so good, except that the penniless Celia is engaged to a powerful
nobleman; Christopher Ungnad, the Baron Horváth, Governor of Croatia.
But Valint is persistent and persuasive, and the attraction is little short of
alchemic. Valint even has the temerity to whisper in Celia’s ear, which
does not go unnoticed by the Empertor’s courtiers.

That fateful night, Valint meets others who will play important roles in the
drama of his life. Count Francis Nadasdy, about 20, who will go onto
become the Black Knight of Hungary, and the pale and eerie young
Countess Báthory, here still an adolescent child of 12. She is already
officially betrothed to the Black Knight.

While the young have been getting on with the business of being young,
Valint’s mother has been talking closely with the Emperor. A wily fox in his
way, he enjoys the company of Anna Balassi, even if he finds her
proselytising to be tiresome. Anna will not desist from singing the praises
of Sigmund Zapolya, the so-called ‘King in the East’ – for such an alliance
will only strengthen them against the Turks. When the Emperor retires,
Janos Balassi chides his wife for troubling their sovereign with her political
views. She just stops short of calling him spineless. Valint arrives at this
chilly moment, hot and flustered from dancing quadrilles with Celia.

The following night, holding a torch and dressed in a nightgown, Celia

wanders the endless corridors of the Royal Castle. Finally, in the shadows,
waiting - Valint. Suffice to say, they don’t waste a lot of time with small
talk.

As his 17 years become 18, Valint is soon having the time of his life. He
spars and jousts most days with Francis, the Black Knight, and enjoys
stolen moments and whole nights of forbidden passion with Celia. The
tableau is perfect, as far as Valint Balassi of Zvolen Castle is concerned -
and he is young enough to think it can last. But as Celia reminds him, she
is betrothed. To one of the most powerful men in the country, Christopher,
Baron Horváth - and there is nothing to be done about a political alliance
as strong as this proposed union. It just doesn’t seem believable, not to
the lovelorn son of Janos and Anna Balassi. A few days later, it becomes
real enough. In the State Room of the Royal Castle, Emperor Maximilian II
is pleased to welcome Christoph Ungnad, Baron Horváth, Governor of
Croatia and the future husband of Celia. This time, the Balassis are simply
part of the furniture, lined up with the other courtiers.
Valint can but watch as his beloved Celia walks towards the Emperor –
hand-in-hand with a man who is the very image of a good Christian knight.
Valint burns with jealousy as the Emperor praises the Baron to the skies,
for his exploits on the battlefield, and for making an honest woman of
Celia Losonczy at last.

Reckless and headstrong, as the feasting in the great hall progresses to

dancing, at least for the young, Valint presses his hand for a dance with
Baron Horváth’s bride-to-be. Celia acquiesces, it’s only good manners, but
as they dance, their compatibility does not go unnoticed by the young
Baron. Yet he is the Governor of Croatia and a Commander of men, while
this Balassi is little more than an impudent boy, one to be taught a lesson
when the opportunity arises. The dance comes to an end, and Celia
returns to her intended husband’s side.

The Emperor has a late night audience with Baroness Báthory, who
entreats with him – to support her cousin Stefan Báthory, as regent in
Transylvania, in place of Sigmund Zapolya. The Emperor, who likes to
keep people dangling when he can, promises to think about it.

That day, boiling over with envy and frustration, Valint as usual, spars
with the young Black Knight – indeed he puts more of himself than usual
into his swordplay. He almost injures his friend – just at the moment
when Baron Horváth and Celia alight upon the scene, part of a courting
couple’s perambulations. The Baron, seeing an opportunity for mischief,
suggests that Valint’s conduct is un-gentlemanly. Valint hotly replies that
if the Baron would care to spar, that would be a better way for a man of
action to express his feelings on the matter. It’s pretty cheeky coming
from the young poetiser, but the Baron is happy to play with swords
anytime. Celia if course, is exasperated beyond words. Men, how stupid
they are.

She watches from the sidelines as they parry and thrust. Baron Horváth
has selected the broadsword as his weapon of choice. In a display of
strength and mastery of his weapon of choice, he comes close to slicing
Valint's nose off. The thought of a disfigured Valint is somehow too much
for Celia, who cries out. Baron Horváth does not fail to notice: “Good lady.
What cans't thou care for this young pup?”

That night, with the castle in the background, Celia makes her way to a
spot by a tree, where Valint is waiting. Soon the two of them are making
love at the foot of the tree. In the aftermath, it is now Celia who speaks
from the heart, insisting this must be the last time they meet.
Unbeknownst to either of them, they are being watched – by little
Countess Báthory, who it seems has a way of getting around the place,
drawing on her slight stature and agility.
She regards the scene with eyes of ageless evil. The following morning,
the Báthory women call on Horváth in his chamber. Now, this might have
struck the reader as odd. Why would the young Báthory wish to create
trouble for the Balassi clan, with whom she has so much in common?
After all, both families are Protestant. But as she explains coolly to the
Baron, the Balassis are supporters of the ‘King in the East’, that upstart
Sigmund Zapolya. She, being a Báthory, believes her family and no other,
to be the rightful heir to the throne of Transylvania and Eastern Hungary.
And she knows for a fact that Anna Balassi has been sending messengers
in secret from the court in Vienna to the ‘King in the East’.

The following day, Francis, the future Black Knight, and Valint Balassi
meet in a Games Room of the Royal Castle. Francis has a treat for them –
a change from the usual round of duelling. A rope has been strung up in
the middle of the room, making for a makeshift tennis court. That’s right,
just arrived from Paris, a game called Tennis, worth trying out. He hands
Valint a racquet and a leather ball, just as the Countess Báthory enters,
with a light detail of guards, and ‘no wish to interrupt their game’.

Neither man is aware of the game being played out at that very moment
in another past of the massive royal castle. Led by Baron Horváth, the
Emperor’s men arrest Valint’s parents, Janos and Anna Balassi. Guards
pound on the door of their bedchamber which is opened by Janos Balassi.
Baron Horváth bursts into the room with his troop of men. They
immediately seize Janos Balassi, along with his wife, Anna, and they are
none too polite about it. “Why you!? Christoph Ungnad! Jealous of my
boy!” Anna spits in his face.

Back at the makeshift tennis court, the 11 year old Countess spies, or
pretends to spy something from an eastern window: Janos and Anna
Balassi, Valint’s parents being lead by armed guard, with their hands tied
behind their back by that traitorous usurper Horvath. The Countess seems
to apprehend the situation in a flash. ‘You must escape Valint, it is the
only way you will ever be able to help your parents. Fly back to Zvolen
Castle and seek the counsel of this wise man you speak of - Bornemiss’.
The young Valint is no fool – he immediately sees the wisdom in this
proposal. He makes for the nearest window, pulls it open and jumps down
onto the roof. So it is that the Countess Báthory, the Black Knight and
their retinue forcibly prevent a detachment of King’s Guard from entering
the Games Room, while Valint escapes – clambering over rooftops, then
jumping down into a hay cart, drawn by a peasant farmer on his way out
of the Citadel and back home to the country. Valint tips him with some
silver coins from his purse, and the driver lets him hide amid the hay bails.
In the open country, Valint gets off the hay cart, steals a horse from a
roadside tavern, and rides home to consult his tutor, the warlock
Bornemiss.

Only, there’s a slight detour, for along the way, missing Celia but taking
his consolation where he may, Valint has an amorous adventure with a
gloriously nubile peasant wench he meets on the road.
When he awakes the next morning, the field lass curled all around him, in
the hay barn where they have lain for the night, there is a giant of a man
looming over Valint, menacingly. Outside the barn, the local sergeant calls
to the big lad for an account of the barn’s occupants. They are conducting
a search for one Valint Balassi. In an urgent whisper his sister – it turns
out the buxom wench is the giant’s sister - begs the huge oaf not to say
anything. Fisko, for that is his name, tells the soldiers the barn is empty.
In gratitude for this act of kindness, Valint is compelled to take the big lad
into his employ. As master and manservant they will make a classic pair,
though Valint can scarcely guess at the adventures on the road he’ll share
with this large and seemingly simple country hic.

With the morning and 80 miles between them and Zvolen Castle, Valint’s
conscience has quickened. They steal a horse from the troops making the
rounds of the countryside, looking for Valint, and then ride like the blazes
towards home. It is as they near the Balassi family estate that Fisko
proves his worth. They are met on the forested approach to the Castle by
another detachment of troops. The officer leading the small band informs
Valint that he will be taken into custody for his own protection until the
whole unpleasant matter of his parents incarceration has blown over. Well,
our young hero is having none of that. He tries riding towards the castle
but the Emperor’s men overpower him. This is a red flag to a bull as far as
Fisko is concerned. He knocks down two Nadasdy men with one blow,
punches a horse unconscious and sends another man sprawling through
the woods. The officer type turns on his steed - and rides away as fast as
he can. Not terribly valorous. Valint gains a new appreciation for his
strangely acquired manservant.

Time for a tableau of the home life at Güssing Schlöss, the Guessing
Castle. A glimpse beneath the armour, literally, of that human fighting
machine, Christoph Ungnad, Baron Horváth, Governor of Croatia. It’s not
a pretty sight. As Valint and Fisko stealthily leave Zvolen Castle in the
midnight hour, 100 miles away Ungnad and Celia are wed by candlelight
in Guessing Castle’s Catholic Church. Later in their bedchamber, the
Governor of Croatia takes his bride roughly in his arms. Oh, he makes a
great show of seizing her at first, but when push comes to shove, he has
trouble getting an erection. His reaction, ironically, is impotent rage. “It is
you!” he insists. “You cry for this boy poet, but you do not cry for me, you
do not cry for me!” It is a glimpse of the tortured individual, underneath
the armour. He does not harm a hair on Celia’s head, but instead gets
dressed and heads for the dungeons, where he calls upon Janos and Anna
Balassi.

Back in Zvolen, Valint shows Fisko the secret entrance to his family’s
Castle, and they enter unobserved. Through winding corridors, they make
their way to the warlock Bornemiss. When they arrive in his wondrous
alchemist’s chamber, sure enough, it is as if he has been expecting them.
The oversized servant boy waits in the corner, as Valint bombards the old
man with questions. Bornemiss advises patience, and then calmly lays out
the situation. Janos and Anna Balassi, Valint’s parents, along with several
other war heroes, have been charged with conspiracy against the Crown.
But why? Because the Emperor has decided not to accept the peace terms
proffered by the King in the East, Sigmund Zapolya, and plans a surprise
attack on his forces. In the meantime, those nobles sympathetic to
Zapolya, especially Protestant zealots, are being detained by the Baron
Horváth at the colourfully named Guessing Castle (Güssing Schlöss in
Austria). How does Bornemiss know all of this? The same way he knows
about the peasant wench that delayed Valint’s journey, or the Nadasy
troops outside the castle.

Magic, second sight, astral travel, psychic intuition, whatever you want to
call it. With his visionary holographic insight, Bormemiss presents Valint
with three choices. Number One. Ride to the frontier lands – the
constantly warring and disputed mountains and valleys of Transylvania,
there to fight the Christian fight against the Ottoman Turk. It’s certainly a
noble course. Second, to make for the court of Sigmund Zapolya, the King
in the East, and join his side in the coming fight. Taking the long view, it
does make political sense. His third choice, is for Valint to ride in the
opposite direction, to the Guessing Castle, a place he has known since
childhood, and try to effect the escape of his parents and their fellow
prisoners. And, it almost goes unsaid, to rescue Celia from the arms of
that beast, Baron Horváth. Both Bornemiss and Valint instinctively know
which path he will pursue – the most honourable, and most fraught with
terrors. For Valint knows the Guessing Castle well, its secret entrance and
corridors, but if caught by the Baron Horváth, then surely death will come
hard and slow.

Back in his study, the scribe with ink and quill, whose narration has
helped guide us through this tale, will write that Bornemiss sees much -
but he does not see all. If he had known the future, and the Emperor’s
mind, he would have known this arrest was all part of a larger game, to
win concessions from the ‘King in the East’ – that eventually the Balassis
and their fellow prisoners would be released and pardoned – much to the
child Erzsébet Báthory’s disappointment, whose schemes were so tied up
in this deception. To make matters worse, Baron Horváth has of course
already married Celia Losonczy in a rushed ceremony, at a chapel inside
the castle.
For the time being, the Baron Horváth is making the most of having Valint
Balassi’s parents in captivity. Again, his men roughly drag Valint’s parents
from their cell to what is unmistakably a torture chamber. He shows off
some of his latest instruments of agony, and gleefully demonstrates a
device called the Spider. Manipulating its tentacle-like pincers, he clamps
down on one of Anna Balassi’s breasts – pushing just hard enough to draw
blood but then stops himself. He administers a damn good beating to
Janos Balassi instead, and then, still dissatisfied, has them both thrown
back into the dungeon, battered and bruised. He returns to his
bedchamber, to further goad and torment Celia.

At last Valint and Fisko arrive at the forest on the edge of the Guessing
Castle. He and Fisko have been riding for 15 hours straight, but Valint
wastes no time changing into their most stripped down attire, and
swimming across the moat, to a small door just above water level, under
the shadow of the drawbridge. While Valint makes his way through the
secret places of the castle, Fisko, who cannot swim enters by the front
door. In the darkness, just as Valint is about to descend the stairs to the
dungeons, he hears a voice drift through the castle. It is a voice he would
recognise anywhere. It is the voice of Janos Balassi. But it is not the softly
spoken gentleman he is familiar with, but a man either in agony; or an
agony of fear.

Valint moves towards the voice in the dark, eventually discovering a small
but ornate chamber, where Janos Balassi is down on knees before the
Baron Horváth, begging, simply begging for terms that will allow he and
his wife to ride free from the Guessing castle – oh not their estates and
treasures of course, but their political and religious affiliations are up for
grabs. For Valint, this is a great loss of innocence. For his father should
have been in the cells, suffering with dignity; not upstairs, negotiating the
terms of his own pardon with the Baron!

Listening behind the curtains, he can scarcely believe what he hears. This
does not stop him from intervening. “Good evening father”. In a second
Valint has his arm around Baron Horváth’s neck and a blade pointed at his
manhood. Meanwhile, down in the courtyard, Fisko has been taking on all
comers, a whole garrison of them, in a ‘sporting tournament’ hastily
organised by some entrepreneurial sergeant at arms. The bodies of
incapacitated soldiers have piled up behind Fisko. Family secrets. This tale
is full of them. Christoph Ungnad has a very difficult job ahead of him, the
task of convincing Valint that he has received orders from Emperor
Maximilian II to escort all the Protestant nobles back to Vienna, where
they will receive an official royal pardon.
And what about Valint’s father, begging for his life, that is, negotiating
terms? Hm? “I was just getting around to telling him” replies Ungnad with
a sneer, producing a scroll embossed with the royal seal from inside his
coat. That’s too much for the wounded pride of Janos Balassi, who now,
regaining his warrior dignity, assaults the conniving son of a bitch, intent
on meting out the same punishment as he himself received in the cells a
few days before. Valint has to pull him away, and it’s a moment or two
before Janos Balassi comes back to his senses.

The long and short of it is that Baron Horváth has no choice, but to let the
despised Balassi family, including Valint, walk away Scott free. There is an
imperial edict, it is immutable. Stunned and somewhat traumatised, the
pardoned Protestant nobles and preacher – affronted, but glad to have
escaped with their lives – ride to Vienna, for an audience with the
Emperor. Valint is learning fast how to play the game.

Soon afterwards, Sigmund Zapolya is assassinated. This after the Emperor

had sworn to be making peace terms with the ‘true King in the East’. And
that same fateful night, the Baroness dies in her sleep, or so everyone will
believe. With the discovery of her corpse, news travels fast throughout
the Royal Castle in the morning. The only person seemingly unaffected –
save for a change into black mourning clothes, is that icy little schemer,
Erzsébet Báthory.

The Baron and his bride leave the Royal Castle in Vienna, and are making
their way back to Croatia by coach when their carriage is ambushed by
two highwaymen, who knock the Baron out cold and abduct with Celia.
The masked and hooded desperadoes turn out to be Valint and Fisko. In a
roadside tavern, Valint tries to persuade Celia to elope with him, using
everything in his romantic arsenal, including of course poetry. ‘Celia is my
two eyes, My inextinguishable fire, My infinite love, Celia is my merriment.
Sometimes my great sorrow, My happiness and torment, Celia is my life,
My only soul, The one who possesses me alone’… But all to no avail, the
situation is impossible, by the morals and mores of their time. It is
therefore, for his sake alone that again she spurns him, but the rejection
still stings.

Let us return now to the ancient scribe in his study, scratching away with
a quill on parchment. He recalls how the disillusioned Valint said farewell
to the family seat, taking his armour, some coins, and his manservant
Fisko. Joining a troop of the Emperor’s men, he set out for the frontier
lands: a chain of fortresses that were the defensive line of ‘Royal Hungary’
against the Turkish forces. It’s to hell with politics, and trickery of any
kind. And yet, irony of ironies, in the years to come Valint would become
a sort of Renaissance era Super spy. Meanwhile, he had received an
education – an expensive one, as befitted his noble birth. This was only
the beginning of his story, after all...

Further adventures will ensue. This was The Education of a Renaissance

Man. Let’s see where goes with this hard won knowledge in VALINT II,
Warrior Poet and VALINT III, Balassi Unbound.
 APPENDIX I
Valint II – Warrior Poet
The second film in the VALINT trilogy – or the TV series proper - begins
more or less immediately where An Expensive Education An Expensive
Education An Expensive Education left off. Valint’s first orders as an officer
in the Emperor’s army are to quell a rebellion against Habsburg rule, led
by the decadent Prince of Transylvania, Stefan Báthory. On his way to the
Prince’s citadel, he is ambushed, captured - and thrown in the dungeon by
Prince Stefan’s men. Luckily for Valint however, Prince Stefan takes a
shine to Valint. Soon he is upstairs in the Great Hall drinking with the
Prince: a prisoner in name only. In every practical sense Valint is now a
member of the Báthory Court, a guest-of-honour in Prince Stefan’s
travelling caravan of war and sensuality.

Indeed Valint is well on his way to becoming a sort of 16th century James
Bond. As we soon learn, there are some strange things happening in
Istanbul at this time. The Sultanate of Women as it is known; when the
women of the Imperial Harem were the power behind the Turkish throne,
effectively ruling the vast Ottoman Empire.

On a mission from Stefan Báthory, Valint infiltrates the harem to gain

information but finds that the seductive Sapphire Sultana is more than his
match in trickery. Reluctantly Valint returns to Christian Hungary.

On his return, he learns that his father is dead, and the Balassi estates
have been seized by Emperor Maximilian. Stefan Báthory however has
had better luck than Valint - and ascended to the throne of Poland. As
Valint discerns not long after arriving in Poland’s ancient royal capital of
Krakow, King Stefan is a changed man. No longer a rake and a womaniser,
he is obsessed with defeating Tsar Ivan the Terrible of Russia in the
Livonian wars. Despite an initially frosty reception from his old friend,
Valint is soon drafted into his army. Once more the Warrior Poet throws
himself into the fighting, as if it’s his salvation.

He plays his part in the defeat of Ivan the Terrible – after narrowly
escaping from his deadly clutches. Tragically, just a few days after victory,
Stefan Báthory dies in mysterious circumstances. Convinced that he has
been poisoned, Valint calls for his tutor, Bornemiss, who is now truly a
great age. The first recorded autopsy in Central Europe is performed
before Valint goes on the warpath for revenge. Like a mobster avenging a
mafia hit, he kills one enemy of his slain friend after another. He is
eventually banished from Poland, narrowly escaping with his life. Trouble
now seems to follow him now wherever he goes. It is all too much for the
aged Bornemissa, who dies in his arms. Valint burns with shame.
So it’s the open road yet again for this charming vagabond, the next best
thing to a clear conscience. But this time fortune seems to be on Valint’s
side. For one thing, he’s finally granted an audience with Maximilian’s
successor on the Habsburg throne, Rudolph II. Known as ‘the Alchemist
King’, Rudolph is a student of the Occult and an admirer of handsome
men, which despite the odd battle scar, Valint still most definitely is. So, it
is that with Emperor Rudolph II’s support, Valint retakes his old family
fortress, and becomes a regular at court.

He begins a new affair, with the Countess Erzsebét Báthory. She is

Dracula’s cousin in more ways than one. A married woman, Erzsebét is
now as versed in the art of love – and the downright kinky – as any of the
girls Valint met in Sapphire’s harem.

Yet it is Celia who is his lifelong obsession, and she does have the habit of
turning up at the most inopportune times. This time as a widow, for
Christoph Ungnad has died in his sleep; a strange fate for such a constant
soldier. Once again, Valint can’t help himself. He throws over Countess
Báthory to pursue Celia one more time. After Valint switches bedmates,
signs of Erzsebét Báthory’s paranoia become apparent. Her phobia of
growing old, which will become pathological - and then homicidal - is
triggered by Valint’s desertion. Her husband, a legendary warrior himself
remember, decides to murder Valint if it kills him. Valint almost seems to
welcome a final confrontation with the Black Knight of Hungary, and even
an end to it all. Ironically, he is saved by the thing he has come to despise
the most, political favouritism. His new friend Emperor Rudolph intervenes
to save Valint by despatching him to the frontier lands again.

Valint is back where he started, a soldier of fortune, banished from his

homeland and the woman he loves. He has made himself an outsider
among his own people, ridden every highway and byway from Vienna to
Moscow, Gdansk to the Black Sea. Perhaps it is time to disappear. And so
it is, that Valint is “killed in battle” during the spring of 1594 at the siege
of Watertown Castle. A noble enough end, the predictable outcome of a
life spent serving on the frontiers: Or is it?

*
 Valint III – Balassi Unbound
With huge raging spirits roaming across an incredibly rich canvas, how
much more interesting if Valint should live on, so that he can set out on
great adventures? After all he is not yet 40 when he supposedly dies in
battle. In Balassi Unbound, the third volume of Valint Balassi’s
undiscovered memoirs, it is revealed that his death was a nothing but a
ruse, an elaborate hoax, involving his debauched, occultist cousin Melchior
Balassi. The master of disguise and intrigue now sets out on a journey
across the globe, meeting characters such as Galileo, William Shakespeare
and Queen Elizabeth I. His travels span the known world and beyond
during the Golden Age of Discovery. It can even be suggested that he is
wandering through time itself. Remember, Valint has been dabbling in
magic since the days when he was a pupil of Bornemiss.

APPENDIX II
Valint Balassi: Valiant Valentine - Or Villainous Varmint?
“The valiant Balassi with cavalry and infantry, destroyed houses and
wealthy shops, captured children and women, bound many Turks by the
neck. The valiant warriors went with great joy to the town of Eger, where
they sold them off straightaway and gave great thanks to God.”
Gyorgy Salanki, contemporary of Valint Balassi

“From the cultural point of view Valint was on the same level as the best
European poets of his day, but what about from the point of view of
civilisation? He was a Highwayman, a Gentleman of the Road as English
writers would later call the type, who attacked a butcher’s widow who
lived in a nearby town, as she walked along the road and forced her to the
ground, running away when other people happened to come on by.”
Hungarian scholar, Antal Szerb

Practically everyone loves a good-hearted rogue. Yet a close reading of

Valint Balassi’s history suggest that, between war profiteering as we might
call it today, and attempted rape, Valint was a pretty wicked sort of fellow.
Less virtus militarus - and more ‘scoundrelus maximus’.

Our stories will walk a fine line. Our Valint is a touch bloodthirsty, a lover
of women and wine and song, but no slave trader or rapist. In the context
of the brutal, war-like times in which he lived, we might even say that he
was a hero.
Valint too was quite the lover – and a kind of Renaissance era secret
agent, often assuming disguises. Pole, Turk, Slovak, Transylvanian,
Protestant, Catholic, Muslim, Jew, Hapsburg, Báthory, Szekely, Saxon,
Gypsy, Hajduk – Valint is a little bit of each, yet none in particular, except
perhaps Hungarian.

APPENDIX III
The Ballad Of Valint Balassi
The basis for a series of historical dramas: the facts of the life of this
valiant valentine - as we as we know them, reshaped only slightly in the
service of a good story.

In 1554 when the Warrior Poet Valint Balassi was born, the former
Kingdom of Hungary was divided into three parts. The Turks ruled Central
Hungary, including Buda and Pest, the Hapsburg dynasty governed
Western Hungary and only in the South did Hungary ‘belong to the
Hungarians’; They were a loose alliance of freebooters, most of them loyal
to Janos Zapolya, the King in the East, but others to the legendary
Báthory clan. But then Renaissance Era Central Europe, from the Baltic to
the Black Sea was a hot-bed of intrigue, where fierce rivalry, violence and
betrayal were all just business as usual. Valint himself was the son of
Janos Balassi, a Castellan (Castle Caretaker) who was accused – perhaps
justly – of conspiring against the Hapsburg Emperor. This slur against the
Balassis left its mark on both father and son, who both dreamt of
restoring the honour of the family name. The young Valint was educated
at a Nuremberg Monastery by Peter Bornemiss, an almost wizardly prelate.
In 1569 when he was 15 years old, Balassi’s father - and other heroes
from the Battle of Eger - were arrested on charges of conspiracy against
the Crown and imprisoned. With young Valint’s help, his father and the
other noble souls were rescued from a fortress in Slovakia, and the family
fled to Poland. While in Kraków - that ancient Royal city at the crossroads
of Central Europe - Valint began to develop his taste for poetry, and for
romantic love.

In 1572, for reasons lost in the fog of history, Valint’s father was issued a
pardon. But, straight off the bonfire of state persecution - and into the
cauldron of politics. Janos Balassi, a proud man from a noble family that
had fallen on hard times, passed his sense of pride and indignation
directly onto his son, Valint. Determined to somehow win back the old
family estates of Divény and Kékkő, the father began scheming and
manoeuvring as soon as he had been pardoned. This included sending the
18 year son Valint to support an uprising against the Prince of
Transylvania, Stefan Báthory. Valint, who would eventually become a
skilled man-at-arms, was not on his best form on this occasion. Indeed he
was captured before even getting to Báthory’s castle in Transylvania. But
he was not long for the dungeon - and was soon upstairs in the Great Hall
drinking and ‘wenching’ with Stefan Báthory. Luckily for Valint, the Prince
had taken a shine to the sharp?tongued, pleasure-loving rhymester. Valint
Balassi was a prisoner in name only. In every other practical sense he was
a member of the Transylvanian Court, a guest-of-honour in the Prince’s
travelling caravan of war and revelry. Prince Stefan had found a brother-
in-arms as witty and wild as he was. On a visit to Constantinople, the
Turkish Sultan also took a great fancy to Valint, probably for different
reasons.

But the Transylvanian Prince refused to give him up and together they
travelled, indulging in their shared taste for battle and bacchanalia. “The
hunger and thirst during battle, the great heat and fatigue, this was their
pastime” as Valint wrote, in one of his Soldiers’ Songs from this time. For
Valint, the frontier between Islam and Christendom was the place where a
man might find himself, in practising the art of war. The two young men
helped lay siege to the Polish port of Gdańsk, which at the time was held
by the Austrian Emperor. And when the Prince left Transylvania to become
King of Poland, Balassi was of course in his entourage.

At the news of his father’s untimely death however, Balassi returned

home to take over as head of the family, which seems to have been fine
by everyone. It was perhaps Valint’s great weakness to follow his father in
both method and manner, and so he picked up all the feuds and lawsuits
exactly where his father had left them. Indeed he made things even worse.
He still had time for several love-affairs, which he immortalised in his first
examples of erotic verse. His muse, the love of his life, his (almost)
constant friend through life and his occasional lover, was one Celia
Losonczy. Celia had it all: Looks, brains, land, charm, wisdom – and a
husband. Not just any husband either but a certain Christopher Ungnad,
governor of Croatia and commander of the Castle of Eger, the fortress
town which had been so heroically defended against the Turks.
Early in their affair Valint was a jealous and possessive lover, perhaps
because he himself was so skilled in deception. He acted as a kind of
Renaissance era secret agent, often assuming or improvising disguises.
Hungarian, Turk, Slovak, Transylvanian, Protestant, Catholic, Muslim, Jew,
Hapsburg, Báthory, Szekely, Saxon, Gypsy, Hajduk – Valint was a little bit
of them all, and yet not any one in particular. Besides his native
Hungarian and classic Latin, he spoke seven languages including Italian,
German, and Turkish. So it was that by his twenties and serving as
lieutenant of Eger, Valint grew weary of peace and quiet - and a mistress
at least fifty miles by horseback away. He began frequenting taverns and
houses of ill-repute and, after a drunken quarrel with the Mayor and an
Innkeeper, Valint was forced to leave Eger. He returned again to the
Balassi family seat, his mind now set upon taking a wife, the more docile
and attentive the better.

On Christmas day in 1584, just after his 30th birthday, Valint Balassi
married Kristina Dobó, his second cousin twice removed. Well, maybe not
as removed as that. Kristina’s brother was none-too pleased with this
betrothal, and instituted legal actions against Valint, on grounds of
disloyalty and incest. After a long legal struggle, Valint’s marriage was
annulled by the Church, and Janos Balassi, Valint’s two year old son, was
thus illegitimate. The 16th century was not a good time to be labelled a
bastard, and Valint was apoplectic. Two years later this decision was
reprieved by the Court. But the damage to his psyche would appear to
have been done. Now that his marriage had finally been legitimised, Valint
wanted it over. He rode off into the sunset leaving young Janos in the care
of Kristina, the young lad’s fate unknown to us to this day.

Once more free, Valint was determined once more to live the life of a
roving knight, a freelance gentleman and soldier of fortune. His ambitions
drove him to the frontierlands: a chain of fortresses that were the
defensive line of ‘Royal Hungary’ against the Turkish forces. Although
certainly not lacking personal courage or other military virtues, the Royal
Court did not for example approve the candidacy of Balassi for Captaincy
of Eger. It is possible that Christopher Ungnad plotted against him in this
enterprise.

So for a while, Valint went into the service of another Castellan, this one
at the so-called Bishop’s Castle. But in what would become a recurring
pattern, the wife of the Castle Keeper fell hopelessly in love with him. In
the following years he proved himself to be a plundering feudal Baron of
the road - hated and feared by the honest, God-fearing middle-class
citizens of Upper Hungary, but adored by their wives. The Castellan’s wife
had been a comely piece, whose favours Valint had liberally enjoyed, but
he had set his sights on a loftier prize. With Christopher Ungnad’s death in
battle, Celia had become a widow. He besieged her with letters and poems,
but she remained untouched. Perhaps Celia saw Valint Balassi as the
ultimate suitor, lover and intimate friend - but that did not make him
marriage material. Valint was deeply offended. His anger and frustration
found expression in a series of tortured love poems known now as the
Celia-cycle.
Eventually, his ever worsening financial problems, quarrels and lawsuits
drove him to Poland, where his protector and sponsor Stefan Báthory was
now of course ruling as King. Valint wrote some of his most beautiful
poems in Francis Wesselényi's castle, near Kraków. The Baron even
seemed to tolerate and even encourage Valint’s doting on his young bride
– up to a point. There was finally some incident, a mystery to this day,
which tipped the Baron over the edge and Valint was given his marching
orders, yet again. Around the same time, his old friend Stefan Báthory
died in mysterious circumstances in faraway Belarus. Valint, convinced
that it was a plot, and that Stefan had been poisoned, blamed himself
terribly for not being at the King of Poland’s side.
He returned to Hungary in the autumn, and in despair. This worsened
when yet again he could not win the favours of the Court or receive a
proper position, and had to supplement his continuously decreasing
incomes by becoming a wine merchant. For Valint, not quite on equal
terms as the ruling nobility, but one who had always considered himself
their equal, trading goods to survive was a humiliating comedown.

Finally he returned to the one place where he could always seek safety,
which is to say, in battle. He accepted a commission in the army and set
forth to battle the Turks. He took part in the siege of White Castle and the
victorious battle of Pákozd which followed on its tail.

Seemingly now on an unstoppable roll of good fortune, Valint even re-

conquered his two old family fortresses of Divény and Kékkő. He wrote to
Celia once more, but this time they were scornful letters; boasting that he
had restored the Balassi family’s good name and fame, and that she had
been a fool to spurn him.

But as we all know, it is pride that cometh before a fall. According to

legend, it was during the siege of Esztergom – in the spring of 1594 – that
both of his thighs were blasted with cannon shot. An agonising but
glorious death on the field of battle followed: “I was your soldier my Lord,
and I served in your Host” were his famous last words. A valiant end in
battle, the final glorious outcome of a life serving on the frontiers: Or was
it?