by Nina Clare
The day after Herr Weimann’s black visit, another guest arrived. Princess Sophia swept up to the castle gates in her four-horse drawn carriage and was ushered into the throne room before the king.
‘Dearest Ludwig,’ she said upon rising from a curtsey before the throne. ‘Such formality when it is only your old friend.’
The king sat upon his gilt throne beneath a canopy of blue and silver stars. The armrests of his seat reared up as life-sized swans.
‘I perceive that you come on formal purposes, Your Highness,’ replied the king.
The princess hesitated, seeming uncertain of herself in relation to the imposing, glowing figure before her. The soft growl of thunder began, and the air in the room cooled a little, as before a storm.
‘Your Majesty, I speak with the urging of Her Highness, the queen mother.’
‘Why does the queen mother not speak herself?’
‘She is unwell. She has a dreadful cold. I speak both as friend and ambassador.’
‘Ambassador of whom?’
‘Your chief ministers and High Court officials. They are distressed, they say they are refused your presence. They claim to receive instructions from their king only through the mediation of your aide-de-camp, or on occasion, when the prince is not with you, your valet.’
‘What of it?’
‘Dear Ludwig you of all persons understand protocol! They feel it as an insult.’
‘Recall your own sense of protocol in addressing the king rightfully. If the king insults them, they should look to their own actions for the source of his displeasure.’
‘I know the war displeased you—’
‘It disgusted me. As does all their ways. They are for war, I am for peace. They are for all that is monstrous, I am for beauty. I disown them!’
‘Your Majesty—you cannot disown your people! Forgive them. Return to them, I beg you!’
‘Have they changed their ways?’
The rumbling grew louder, and the darkness increased. I admired the princess’s courage, for she did not seem deterred by the palpable anger and tension in the hall. She lifted the fine veil from her hat and took a few, slow steps toward the throne, then dropped to her knees before the king in a gesture of appeal. The king looked down at her for a long moment.
‘What is your request, Sophia?’ His voice was softened, but still powerful. The thunder died down; the light slowly returned to full daylight.
‘Your Majesty, Prince Niklaus has taken it upon himself to stand in your place in all matters of state and royal function.’
‘What of it? I have given him the authority to represent the royal house.’
‘But there are those who say that if Prince Niklaus is bearing the office of king, then why should he not be king?’
‘He is not appointed. And he has not the ambition.’
‘He is not ambitious, but those who surround him are. The new Cabinet Secretary, Count von Wuelffen, is well known for his avarice for position, and seems to be working tirelessly for your removal, though I do not understand why. The Cabinet Secretary has called upon the government to have you declared insane and unfit to rule, even now he is garnering support among leaders and prominent men. He is a man of persuasion. Thus, my request on behalf of the queen mother is that you would return to München and assert your authority and quash such insurrection.’
‘What you ask is impossible.’ The king sounded saddened by this admission.
‘How can you say so?’
‘They are not my people, Sophia. I have never belonged here. And soon I shall leave.’
‘Leave? What do you mean? Shall you abdicate? You will be playing into their hands if you do. You will be abandoning your people to those who are unjust and self-serving.’
‘They are not my people,’ he repeated. ‘I have never belonged here. All my life I have felt so. All my childhood I have been tormented by it. But now I begin to know who I am. And I do not belong here.’
‘Ludwig, you speak as an enigma!’
‘And an enigma I must always remain.’ He stepped down from his throne to take her hand. ‘Rise up, my lady. He took from inside his coat an emerald cup. ‘Hold out your hand. Princess Sophia looked distressed, but she did as she was bid. The king tilted the cup and from it poured a silvery stream shaping itself into a small flask. Princess Sophia exclaimed at the silver flask that now lay in her hand; she held it up and turned it round to examine it in wonder.
‘Ludwig, what is this? What have I just seen?’
‘Take it to the queen mother. It is wine that will aid her recovery. But take it immediately. Its efficacy is short-lived in this temporal air. There is one last kindness you can do for me, my lady: comfort the queen mother when I am gone.’
The snows came early that year. When Paul returned from his latest foray in the city he travelled by sleigh up the mountain path.
He found me late on the afternoon of his arrival; I was gathering fresh flowers from the gardens, for the king liked to have vases and bowls of flowers all around him.
‘Lilies in October,’ Paul commented. I paused with my little knife mid-air at the sound of his voice. I had not seen him for some time. I did not turn around immediately. ‘Lilies in the snow. And so many.’
‘As fast as we cut them, they grow again next morning,’ I replied. ‘Crocuses in the forest,’ I continued, ‘larches in full bloom, this mountain is full of wonders.’
‘Full of uncanny and unnatural happenings,’ said Paul, his voice not bearing his usual warmth and humour.
I turned now to look at him, half expecting the familiar uncomfortable lurch of my stomach to occur as I met his smiling eyes and tall, golden presence. But something about him was different. There was no glow, no charismatic presence, no charm radiating out. He looked haunted, edgy, uncomfortable. His eyes darted about as though expecting someone or something to leap out from somewhere.
‘You look well, Elsa,’ he said, when his eyes returned to me. ‘I’ve missed you.’
‘You look tired,’ I replied truthfully. ‘And unhappy. Too much work, or too much entertainment?’
He attempted a smile. ‘Little entertainment of late. More’s the pity.
‘Are you here to ask the king to return to court?’ I said. ‘Everyone else has tried and failed. Is it really as bad as they say? Is the king’s rule threatened?’ The words sounded unreal as I spoke them. Here, feeling the flow of power surging up from the depths of the mountain, spilling through the castle walls, through the gardens, down the hillside, it seemed impossible that any force could come against the king when such power surrounded him. The castle felt invincible.
‘It is very bad, Elsa. It could not be worse.’
I was taken aback at his expression.
‘What is going to happen?’
Paul stepped closer to me, dropping his voice to a low urging. ‘Come away with me, Elsa. I leave tomorrow. I travel to Zurich on a diplomatic assignment before taking up my new commission. Come with me, there’s nothing for you here.’
‘There’s nothing for me in Zurich. Except the shame of being talked of as your mistress. You don’t want to marry me, do you?’
For one brief moment I almost hoped he would say, Yes, I do. Marry me, Elsa.
He faltered, his face showing a wrestling with thoughts and feelings before he answered.
‘I cannot.’
For the first time since I had known him, he looked small and weak.
‘My father would not permit it. I am the younger son. I have to marry money even if I would choose to marry for love.’
The last of my hopes regarding Paul fell away. How foolish of me to have clung to them in a part of my heart.
‘I wish you well in Zurich, Your Highness,’ I said, when I could trust my voice not to shake. ‘One thing puzzles me, however…how is it you have gained a lucrative position without the king’s permission? You are leaving him without him even knowing. Who has the authority to arrange this? And what have you done t
o get it?’
He looked stricken. Then he gave a short laugh. Not his usual warm, sunny laugh that cast dancing lights about me, but a dry, tired laugh.
‘It’s a cruel world out there, my darling. Perhaps I understand why you like it here, hidden away from it all. I gave the king my best. I worked hard for him. But I can’t afford to go down with him. My father has friends in high places: General Hogenstaller and the new Cabinet Secretary, and their ilk. Between them they’ve arranged a new position for me.’
I knew who the new Cabinet Secretary was, and it sent a shock of fear through me to hear that Paul was closely connected to him now.
‘And what did you do for them?’
He shook his head. ‘Nothing of any magnitude. Gave testimonies regarding the king’s patterns of living, unusual behaviour, any concerns.’
‘You have been a spy.’ I felt anger surging up, but the prince looked so diminished and wrung out that my contempt was tempered with pity at what he had become, and what it had cost him. ‘You have betrayed him,’ I said sadly.
He made a strange sound, almost like a sob catching in his throat. He stretched out a hand to take hold of mine, but I moved so that all he grasped hold of was the heads of the lilies I held.
‘Elsa, come away, let me take you somewhere safe. It’s not just what is to come upon the king that endangers you, there’s something else—I am sure you know.’
‘Know what?’
But I knew.
‘I know who you are.’ His voice lowered as though he spoke a secret.
‘So do I. I learnt it very recently. But who told you?’
‘I…put the pieces together, from things I heard.’
‘From things you heard from the new Cabinet Secretary. The man you have been feeding information about the king. The man who will use it against him. The man you have received a new position from. The man who wishes me harm.’
Paul could not answer, and he could not meet my eye.
‘He’s a wicked man.’ I said.
‘I know what he is,’ he rasped. ‘That’s why I want you to come with me, out of his reach. I’ll find somewhere for you to lie low, start a new life somewhere where he’ll never find you. He doesn’t want to hurt you, Elsa, he just wants to…own you. Come with me. If not to remain with me, then let me assist you to flee from here and take you to some place of safety. I want to help you.’
The words were tempting. Very. If the prince were right, if the king was to be usurped, his power stripped from him, there would be no king to protect me. Who would rule in his place? His uncle would. And he was close to the count. I had no chance. I had no hope. And here was hope. Prince Paul stood, pale as the lily heads that lay crushed in his hands, full of fear and foreboding, offering me a chance to flee a second time, but to what, and to where? The carpenter had said I had an aunt somewhere north, but he did not know her address; I could not remember either her name nor where she lived. My head swirled.
‘I need to think,’ I said finally. I turned away, letting go of the long lily stems.
He dropped the crushed flower heads and caught hold of me. ‘You know, Elsa,’ he said in a ragged voice. ‘I could give the order and have you bodily removed. Carry you off.’
‘Why would you do that?’
‘Because it is what I have been charged to do.’
I stared at him, appalled at what I was hearing.
‘I thought you were my friend,’ was all I could say.
‘I am! That’s precisely why I have risked my neck coming here a day early, that I might warn you, and hide you from him before he gets here. He is coming, Elsa. Soon. Perhaps tomorrow. I leave at dawn. We can ride together. He is coming, Elsa, and there is no one who can help you.’
Paul dropped his hand from my arm. My flowers had fallen in a tangled heap of ruin in the snow. I left the garden, picking up my skirts so I could run along the swept path. I did not know where to, I just knew I needed to be alone with my thoughts. I had only one night left to determine my future.
Chapter 33
Decisions
I found myself at the lakeside, which lay grey and mournful beneath the white sky. A few stray flakes of snow fell half-heartedly upon me, melting into my hair. Mist shrouded the far side of the lake as the evening drew in.
I couldn’t think. I felt as numb as my hands and feet. Out of the mist ghostly shapes came gliding towards me. The only sound was a muffled, watery lap against the shore. An owl hooted as though greeting the shapes that now took the form of swans. I watched them pass by.
Was Paul destined to be my helper a second time? He had found me when I was in need and destitute, and had brought me into the safety of the castle; was he to pull me from the castle into a new place of safety?
I was more confused than ever.
There was a sudden shift in the clouds and the sky cleared above me as dramatically as theatre curtains drawn back to reveal a bright stage. The sky gleamed green at the lake’s edge, flushing into gold, then crimson, as the sun set on the west side of the water. To the east the moon now appeared, low, pale, and full. It would be a spectacular Hunter’s Moon that night. Perhaps the king would call for his golden sleigh that he might ride out beneath it. Perhaps for one last time.
The swans sailed away into the last of the golden ripples. An owl hooted again from the trees behind me. The burst of colour was fast fading; it was growing dark, and I was so cold.
‘Elsa!’ a voice called from somewhere beyond the owl. ‘Elsa!’
‘I’m here!’ I called back, not wanting Herr Haller to waste time searching for me in the dark. I followed the glinting light of a lantern swinging amongst the trees until I met him.
‘Elsa, I was worried! No one could find you and it was getting dark.’
‘I’m fine.’
‘You’re shivering!’ He threw a cloak about my shoulders. It was warm and heavy.
‘You can’t walk back in your shirt,’ I protested. ‘Here. It’s big enough for two.’ I held out one edge of the cloak that he might take it and wrap it about his right shoulder; his left shoulder abutted mine beneath the cloak.
‘It’s enormous, I wonder you could walk in it,’ I joked through chattering teeth. The cloak skimmed the ground.
‘I think it must be a castoff of the king’s,’ said Herr Haller. ‘It’s about right for someone nearly seven feet tall. I just grabbed the warmest looking one in the boot room.’
‘You shouldn’t have come out,’ I said. ‘You know I can look after myself.’
‘Oh, be quiet,’ said Herr Haller. ‘There’s so much odd stuff going on that I know nothing for sure anymore.’
We had to link arms to keep together as we walked.
‘Thank you,’ I murmured, feeling grateful for his presence.
‘What do you think will happen?’ I asked. The lantern light made swinging arcs of light on the snowy ground. The golden crocuses glowed brighter by moonlight than they did by sun.
‘I don’t know. But the prince is as jittery as a high-strung horse before battle. I reckon he knows what’s going to happen. But he’s not saying.’
‘He says the king will lose his power.’
‘I’d like to see them try to take it,’ he said with surprising fierceness. ‘They’ll have to get past the Castle Guard first, and they’re all mountain folk; they’ll defend the king with their last breath.’
‘The prince is leaving in the morning. I think he’s fleeing before the trouble starts.’
‘I bet he is, the lily-livered rodent!’
I almost laughed to hear the usually peaceable Herr Haller speak with such savagery. But nothing about the situation was funny.
Herr Haller stopped suddenly, holding me tightly so I would not walk on and pull our shared cloak away.
‘Elsa,’ he said in a tone of urgency. ‘I think you should leave before anything bad happens. I don’t want you caught up in it.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not abandoning the king just bec
ause a few over-stuffed dignitaries are coming from the city. Like you said, they’ll have to get past the Castle Guard first.’
‘But if you are seen,’ pressed Herr Haller. ‘By him.’ The lamplight cast his mild hazel eyes into dramatic dark orbs. ‘Count von Wuelffen is one of the men coming. I heard the prince talking to his valet.’
I flinched back at that name and the cloak fell from my shoulder. Herr Haller picked it up and rearranged it. ‘Come on, let’s keep walking. I bet your feet are wet.’
I shivered at the thought of what would happen if the count found me. Perhaps Paul and Herr Haller were right. I should leave at dawn. Herr Haller pulled me closer, thinking my shiver was from the cold. He hurried me on, asking no more questions.
When I awoke next morning, I knew two things: I knew I had a streaming cold coming, and I knew that I was not going anywhere with the prince. I couldn’t bear the thought of being with someone who put their own interests first and betrayed their friends. It made me sick and angry to think of it. Herr Haller with his dreamy, clumsy, kindness was more of a true prince and soldier of the king than Paul. And he had nicer eyes, I concluded. Paul’s almost seemed to be laughing at one’s confusion; Herr Haller would never laugh at someone, he would only laugh with them.
With this resolution I swung myself out of bed, wincing as my bare feet touched the cold, stone floor. It was colder today than yesterday, and my fireplace held only pale ashes. I dressed quickly and left my room.
There was a new feel in the castle. The exterior work had ceased when the snow came, but the ring of chisel and the grate of saw could be heard on the fourth floor, above the king’s chambers. The workmen sang as they worked. It was the singing that was different, I realised. The words were the same, but the rhythm was faster, the voices urgent, the magic felt heavy as deep, deep snow, as though it were piling up and a mountain avalanche was imminent.
The horn, the horn, it calls him home,
The king must return to his land
Build a door, build a door