The Swan King

by Nina Clare

The groom scrambled to do as he was bid, and Elisabeth watched as a young horse was led out of his stall and paraded before her.

  ‘What do you think?’ asked the count. His eyes gleamed as he watched the sleek horse walk by. ‘Seventeen hands already. Next year he will race at Hamburg, won’t you my beauty?’

  The count moved to the horse to run a hand down his side as he walked past. The horse tightened his jaw and lip and threw his head back.

  Elisabeth was somewhat surprised at the change in the count’s voice and expression. He seemed to really love his horse. Or did he? Was the shining look in his eyes admiration or just avarice? She did not know how the count really felt about his horse, but she knew how the horse felt about the count. ‘He does not like me,’ said the count, as though hearing her thoughts. ‘He does not like anyone much. Why is that?’

  ‘Why do you ask me?’ Elisabeth replied. The horse was led round the courtyard, his flattened ears and grumblings evidence of his displeasure. Twice the groom had to duck out of reach to avoid being nipped.

  ‘Your mother tells me you have a remarkable affinity with creatures.’

  ‘Stepmother,’ she corrected.

  ‘His name is Comet. He was born at midnight, while a comet fell from the sky. So it is said. An appropriate name, don’t you think? Seeing as he is the star of my stables. Kings and emperors will beg for his stud services once he has proved himself at the courses. His lineage is impeccable. But he must be more compliant or he will never fulfil his purpose. And I have a great reluctance to break him. I want to harness that spirit of his.’ His eyes gleamed as bright as the end of his cigar as he spoke.

  The count beckoned the groom to bring Comet near. Elisabeth could not resist moving close to lay a hand on the colt’s neck. He was so beautiful, and horses were her favourite animals.

  ‘Take care, my lady,’ said the groom. ‘He’s prone to biting.’ But to the groom’s surprise Comet only snorted softly at her.

  ‘If our usual methods of training continue to fail, I suppose we will have to resort to more forceful ones,’ said the count languidly.

  Elisabeth looked sharply at him. ‘What do you mean?’

  The count narrowed his eyes in return. ‘Sticks. Whips. The usual tools.’

  Elisabeth felt her stomach lurch; the thought of violence being used on such an animal, any animal, made her sick.

  ‘Sometimes one has to break the spirit. For the good, of course. If there were any other way…’

  ‘What’s wrong?’ she murmured to Comet, turning her back to the count as she scratched the horse’s chin. Comet exhaled from his nose, then nuzzled into her hand.

  ‘Remarkable,’ breathed the count. The groom’s mouth dropped open.

  ‘He doesn’t like being stabled for long periods,’ Elisabeth said after some minutes. ‘He wants to be out in the grass. And he wants more of the green stuff in his feed. I think he means alfalfa. And…’ she hesitated.

  ‘And what?’ said the count.

  ‘And…he thinks you smell like mould. That’s why he doesn’t like you.’

  The groom gave a snort of laughter before stifling his mirth; Comet snorted too. Elisabeth took a sly glance at the count to relish his displeasure, but was chilled to the quick by the look on his face. Such a cruel look. But it passed as quickly as it came, and the count’s voice was smooth as he said, ‘Tell him he can have more time in the meadow and more alfalfa if he ceases his bucking and biting when he is saddled.’

  Elisabeth turned back to the horse, stroking his face as she wordlessly communicated pictures to him, as she had always done with her father’s horses, for as long as she could remember.

  ‘Well?’ demanded the count.

  ‘The saddle irritates his skin. Try putting a softer blanket underneath it, and don’t saddle him until he’s worked off some energy first. And he prefers apples to carrots.’

  ‘Rather cavalier, isn’t he?’ the count drawled, but he looked gratified. Elisabeth grew cold again at his look, for it was no longer on the horse, but resting on her as he took a long draw on his cigar.

  ‘Take him to the meadow,’ the count instructed the groom. ‘Come, my lady. You have been most helpful.’ He held out his arm, but she would not move close enough to take it; he was still regarding at her in that hungry manner.

  ‘Of course,’ said the count, ‘I never use sticks or whips on my horses. Only for people.’ He smiled, showing his yellow teeth. She was not certain if he were joking. ‘You are wasted on your father’s little brood of mares. You should be riding and working with the best horses in the kingdom. What breeder and trainer has such a gift as you? It is remarkable. It is priceless.’

  Elisabeth felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. What had she done? She should never have demonstrated her ability before him.

  Chapter 4

  Dreams

  ‘Did you have a good day, my lady?’ Ziller enquired when Elisabeth returned home and reached her room.

  ‘No.’

  Ziller looked up from folding laundered undergarments, laying them neatly in the chest of drawers.

  ‘Help me off with this dreadful gown!’ Elisabeth said, straining to reach the buttons at the back.

  ‘Dreadful? Why, it’s a gown fit for the queen.’ Ziller unfastened the tiny silk-covered buttons that ran down the back of the bodice.

  ‘All day it’s been pinching me and making me feel like I can’t breathe properly.’

  ‘That’s the corset. Not the fault of the dress.’

  ‘And these wretched hoops.’ She could hear the peevishness in her own voice. Perhaps it was not really the dress that was bothering her so much as the feelings she had been straining against all day.

  She stepped out of her crinoline and flung herself backwards on her bed in her chemise, stretching like a cat.

  She rolled onto her front and watched Ziller at work, hanging up the discarded gown and tidying away the accoutrements.

  ‘I’m really sorry, Ziller,’ she said.

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘About you being sent to the laundry.’

  Ziller shrugged. ‘Can’t be helped. Was my own fault. I didn't do my job properly.’

  ‘It was my fault you didn’t have time to dress my hair that night.’ She propped her chin on her elbows. ‘I will speak to Papa about it.’

  Ziller looked up from rolling up the silk stockings that had been discarded on the floor. ‘Thank you,’ she said in a voice so full of relief that Elisabeth felt a fresh pang of remorse.

  ‘Besides,’ Elisabeth added, ‘Brunn is a sour old bat.’

  Ziller gave a rueful smile. ‘But did you have a good day? Despite the dress.’

  ‘No!’ She rolled over again, looking up at the bed canopy. ‘I spent a whole two hours alone with the count, being shown around his gardens and stables.’

  ‘But you’re fond of horses and of being outside.’

  ‘Not when it’s his horses and gardens. Oh, it was all very fine. Very grand. And his horses are beautiful.’ She thought of the sleek thoroughbreds and the well-kept stables. She thought of Comet. But then she recalled the movements of fear the horses showed when the count approached them. The way they flattened their ears at him and backed away with their tails clamped down. Every servant they had passed acted in a similar fashion. Even the friendly stable dog that had come to meet her with a thumping tail had slunk away as soon as the count appeared.

  She roused herself from unpleasant thoughts and sat on the end of her bed.

  ‘Give me my blue muslin, Ziller. I need something comfortable.’

  ‘It’s not here,’ Ziller said, after rummaging through her wardrobe.

  ‘It must be.’

  Ziller looked again. There was a rap at the door, and before Elisabeth could respond, the door opened and Brunn appeared.

  ‘Excuse me, m’lady,’ she said in her blunt voice. ‘Mistress sent me to see if you need any assistance after your journey.’

  ‘No thank you, Brunn. Zill
er is assisting me.’

  ‘Ziller is wanted in the laundry.’

  ‘Ziller has been doing her duty in putting away my clean laundry,’ Elisabeth said, standing up and trying to look like a mistress with authority, but feeling at a disadvantage in her bare feet and chemise. ‘And now she is engaged in finding my blue muslin.’

  ‘It’s not the place of a laundry maid to be dressing her mistress. I will see to such matters from now on.’

  Ziller dropped a curtsey and scurried out of the room. Brunn moved to the open wardrobe and pulled out a gown. ‘The blue muslin is gone, m’lady, along with the other outmoded gowns.’

  ‘Gone? Who has had the audacity to go through my wardrobe without my consent?’

  ‘I removed them this morning. Orders of the mistress. Now that you are a young lady all inappropriate clothing has been replaced with suitable gowns. May I suggest the peach satin, m’lady? Very proper for this evening’s quiet family dinner.’

  Elisabeth glared in reply. The blue muslin was her favourite, slightly loose fitting, and admittedly, a little outgrown in length, but so comfortable. She almost snatched the gown from Brunn,

  ‘I’ll lace up your corset for you,’ Brunn said, picking it back up from the chair.

  Elisabeth slipped into Alexis’ room once she had escaped the ministrations of Brunn. He was sat on the window seat with his legs stretched out, and a blanket across his knees.

  ‘You’re out of bed,’ she said with pleasure. ‘You must be feeling better?’

  He nodded. But he still looked pale with dark shadows under his eyes. She could not remember a time when he had not looked pale and hollow-eyed. He had never enjoyed good health.

  She sat at the other end of the seat, picked up his slippered feet and put them on her lap.

  ‘I wondered when you’d come,’ he said. ‘Tell me all about it. Was the count’s house a gloomy old castle with a big dungeon?’

  ‘There was no dungeon. Or, not one that I saw. It’s a very grand schloss. It is rather gloomy. His horses are very nice.’

  ‘Did you see him beating his servants? Did he carry a stick with him?’

  ‘He wouldn’t very well beat them in front of guests, would he?’

  ‘You should have followed him when he wasn’t looking, or crept up into the attic rooms, like in Bluebeard.’

  ‘With our stepmother watching my every move?’

  They pulled a face at one another.

  ‘You can’t marry him.’

  ‘Marry him! Who said anything about marrying him?’

  ‘Nurse and Brunn were talking about it when they thought I was asleep.’

  ‘They have no business discussing me. What were they saying?’

  ‘That The Step wants to marry you to the old count, because he’s rich and has lots of high-up friends.’

  ‘She can want all she likes, but Papa won’t make me marry him. I doubt I shall marry at all.’

  ‘But Mama said you would.’

  ‘Seems to me that when girls marry, they don’t get to do anything much except keep house and do what their husband wants. I’d like to climb mountains, and swim in lakes, and ride as far as I can, without a groom reminding me it was time to turn back for dinner.’

  ‘But you’ll marry a rich prince and won’t have to do anything you didn’t want to,’ said Alexis. ‘But I’m glad you won’t get married yet. If you did, you’d have to go away.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘Papa says he’s going away again.’

  ‘I know. Business trip. Hopefully the last one for a long while.’

  Alexis’ voice dropped to a subdued tone. ‘I had a dream about you and Papa going away. You were on a boat, being pulled by a giant swan. I was shouting at you to come back, but you left me behind, standing on the bank.’

  ‘You’ve been reading too much Lohengrin. Papa will be back as soon as he can, and I am going nowhere.’

  ‘It was such a real dream, Elsa. You were all soaking wet, and your hair was all down and blowing around everywhere.’

  ‘What a picture!’ She laughed. ‘Was the Swan Knight in the boat too?’

  ‘I don’t know. There were other people, but it was misty. I couldn’t see them.’

  ‘It was just a dream.’

  ‘It was so real.’

  ‘It was just a dream.’ She pulled off a slipper and tickled his foot until he laughed himself out of his grave mood.

  ‘Have you heard all the banging and racket the workmen are making?’ she asked, wanting to change the subject.

  Alexis nodded. ‘Wish I could watch them. Papa says they will knock down a wall and then build it again down the garden.’

  ‘That’s right. And they’ll make fancy carvings to go around the walls. There’s that much wood stacked up in the stable block it’s a wonder there’s any forest left. I’ll take you down tomorrow to have a look if Nurse lets me.’

  ‘Please!’

  ‘Well, eat all your supper and show Nurse you’re feeling better.’

  Alexis nodded.

  ‘Tell you what, I’ll speak to Papa now about it. If he says you can leave your room tomorrow, then Nurse can’t keep you.’

  Alexis nodded again. ‘Then come back and read to me before bed.’

  ‘I won’t be reading Lohengrin tonight. Not if it gives you bad dreams.’

  She moved his feet aside and stood up. ‘Perhaps a bit of Wholesome Tales for Little Boys,’ she said, lifting the unread book from the bookcase.

  Alexis rolled his eyes.

  The door to the baron’s study was ajar; Elisabeth was about to rap upon it and push it open when the sound of voices arrested her.

  It was the baronin’s voice. What was she doing in Papa’s study?

  ‘She will never get a better offer, Gilbert. Never. He is even wealthier than I first understood. He has an estate near Berlin and a mansion in München, not to mention numerous lodges. He has shares in all the new industries—the railways, this new electricity that everyone is talking of, as well as overseas investments. There is talk of him being offered a senior position in the government later this year, possibly that of Cabinet Secretary, if old Pfiffermeister finally retires, as he ought. He has an income of more than a quarter of a million gulden, Gilbert, think of it!’

  ‘Very impressive,’ murmured Papa’s voice. ‘But, Sabine, money is not the only consideration in a marriage. I would not see Elisabeth married without affection.’

  ‘You must be practical, Gilbert. Think of the connections such a marriage would make. I have worked hard these past years to raise the standing of this family.’

  ‘Sabine, my dear,’ Papa sounded weary, ‘I value all you have done, and I appreciate that you take the welfare of my children seriously and would see Elisabeth well married, but I tell you again that I will not force her into a marriage without affection. I will not.’

  ‘Then you’re a fool!’

  The hostility in the baronin’s voice startled Elisabeth. She had never heard her speak in such a tone to her father.

  ‘We are on the brink of ruin, thanks to your misguided investments, and a lifeline comes along—a man of wealth and excellent standing, who will help us, invest money for us that we might get back on our feet and take our rightful place in society, and you talk of affection?’

  ‘Why would he help us? Why is he so interested in Elisabeth? He must know she has very little dowry.’

  ‘He does not need to marry for money. He would help us as part of the marriage agreement.’

  ‘Is that what he said?’

  ‘In so many words. He is not likely to speak candidly of it to me, is he? That is for you to discuss. But he has made it very clear that he will do all he can for her family once we are related.’

  ‘Such a man always marries for advantage. We are far beneath his notice.’

  ‘Exactly! That is why this chance cannot be lost.’

  ‘It makes no sense…she is very pretty, but, no great beauty, except in my eyes�
�’

  ‘If you must know, I believe it has to do with his horses.’

  ‘Horses?’

  ‘He values his horses above all other interests. He is famed throughout the continent for his horses.’

  ‘Even so…it makes no sense. Elisabeth is an excellent horsewoman, to be sure…’

  ‘It’s not because she is an excellent horsewoman, it’s because of the way she can…you know…’

  ‘Communicate with them. You told him.’

  The baronin did not reply.

  ‘We agreed not to speak of it beyond our family, Sabine.’

  ‘Oh, what does it signify? Honestly, Gilbert, what is the point of such a useless skill unless it attracts such a man as the count?’

  ‘You told him of Elsa’s ability because you thought it would draw him in. I wondered why such a man would condescend to dine here.’

  ‘I did well in drawing him here. You should thank me, not sit there with that insipid look on your face.’

  ‘We agreed never to talk of it. It could cast a slur on her as being something unnatural. She could be castigated by society.’

  ‘Gilbert, when one reaches the heights of society that the count moves in, one is far above such superstitious nonsense. The further one gets to peasantry the stronger the ignorance, but in the circles that the count moves in, no one cares about such things.’

  ‘I care what people think of her. And even if it is her ability that the count wants, he does not need to marry her for it. He could simply invite her for her counsel. It is not as though such a man can be refused.’

  ‘And have his horse-breeding rivals hear of her and pull rank in making use of her? Sometimes I wonder if you have any faculties of reason left, Gilbert. Too many hours spent poring over accounts have addled your brain.’

  ‘Insult me all you like, Sabine, I understand your disappointment with me, but if Elisabeth dislikes that man then there will be no marriage, and that is the end of the matter.’

  ‘That daughter of yours is as much a fool as you are! She does not know what is good for her. You have indulged her every whim and—’

  ‘Now that is enough! Elisabeth is a good girl. She has always minded you, and I have always encouraged her to.’