The Swan King

by Nina Clare

  He shook his head slowly. ‘I cannot bring a mortal back from the dead. But I see the three greatest desires of your heart, Swan Maiden. Now drink the cup to seal them as granted.’

  He drank down the wine in his small goblet in one swallow. I obediently did the same. It tasted bitter and sweet at the same time, but I felt warmed and strengthened by it. The illness I’d felt approaching, now left me.

  The footsteps of a guard were heard.

  ‘Your Majesty, we have confined the enemy in the guardhouse. The way is made clear. However…’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Two of the men got away. We are looking for them, sir. They were not in the carriages, but rode up behind the other men. They turned back when the crowd surrounded the carriages. They cannot be far. The roads are being watched.’

  ‘The king leaves now. Before moonset begins.’

  Chapter 35

  Moonshine

  ‘Baron von Fleischmann, you and Count von Wuelffen were the only members of the Deputation who did not suffer incarceration in the gatehouse. You made a courageous escape from the violence, I understand.’

  ‘We did. The carriages only seated four each, therefore the count and I volunteered to ride behind.’

  ‘Why were you such a distance from the carriages?’

  ‘The count had taken the king’s own horse, but the animal seemed to determined to throw him off. The count soon showed him who was in command, but it slowed our progress. That is how we came to arrive later than our party.’

  ‘And upon assessment of the situation at the castle gates you negotiated your way back down to Swanstein that you might send for assistance. Is that correct?’

  ‘Our intention was to fulfil our orders, either by gaining extra men, or by whatever means necessary. The count wrestled with the brute half the way down the mountain path, then the beast threw him and disappeared into the forest. The count suffered no breakages, so we let the second horse go, and continued our way by foot, surmounting all the difficulties of having no light about us, not to mention the cursed terrain that had a mind of its own in tripping us up and blocking our way.’

  ‘A mind of its own, sir?’

  ‘A manner of speech. I am a rational man, but strange things happened that night, and so strange manners of speech will at times obtrude.’

  ‘When you reached the village of Swanstein, what did you witness next, sir?’

  ‘A great procession. If I were not a rational man, I should say it was like a scene from a fairy tale. The king was riding the most magnificent horse I have ever seen. Where it came from, I cannot say. I had never seen that horse in his stables. Nor have I seen its size and quality before.’

  ‘Was it from the villages, sir?’

  ‘Certainly not. An emperor would desire such a magnificent specimen; no villager could own it.’

  ‘So, the king travelled by horseback to the village, accompanied by a great procession, you say?’

  ‘Not to the village. To the lake. With a great long line of peasants holding candles and lanterns, lining the path, throwing flowers before him in a most pagan manner.’

  ‘No weapons, sir? They were a peaceful crowd?’

  ‘No weapons. Only lights and flowers.’

  ‘And what did you venture next, sir?’

  ‘Our only thought was to keep the king from escaping. Should he reach the other side of the lake and cross the mountain border, he might reconcile with the emperor, amass an army and plunge the kingdom into civil war. We determined if we could get to the boathouse and commandeer a boat, we would follow him out onto the lake and force him to return with us to the royal train, and bring him to München.’

  ‘Even with so great a crowd about him?’

  ‘He went alone into his boat. Only the young woman accompanied him, and a servant to pole the boat. We decided that if we could get to the other side of the lake, we could apprehend him and take him to the station without the peasants seeing us.’

  ‘The king was a man of great height and youth, did you not fear being overpowered by him?’

  ‘I am a former captain, and so is the count. We are not men of fear.’

  ‘And were you armed?’

  The baron was silent.

  ‘I asked, were you armed, sir?’

  ‘I was not.’

  ‘Was the Cabinet Secretary armed?’

  The baron threw a glance across the room to where Count von Wuelffen remained held between two guards.

  ‘I ask, because there have been reports of gunshot that night.’

  ‘The count was armed,’ admitted the baron. The audience gasped. ‘Liar!’ roared the count across the room.

  The king ignored the carriages at his disposal. He stood at the head of the mountain path, looking into the dark forest beyond as though waiting. All the power that had formerly coursed through the castle grounds now gathered about him, creating an invisible barrier between him and his subjects. We all hung back.

  There was a rustling noise from the trees, and the crowd gasped as a magnificent white horse emerged to stand with head bowed before the king. I had never seen so large a horse. Its white coat gleamed as if made of moonlight. As it bowed, I saw a slender horn upon its brow. The king mounted in one graceful bound, and the horse walked majestically down the mountain path.

  More villagers surged up the path: woman and children, and the men not young enough to reach the castle gates as quickly as those who’d acted as guardians. As the king rode by they snatched up handfuls of gold crocuses from the snowy ground and strewed them across the path before him. The air was so still that even bare candle flames hardly flickered as the people stood, lighting the way.

  I followed in the king’s train, Herr Haller close by; the castle servants and villagers fell in behind. The moon was brighter than I had ever known it to be. All was white and silver; moonshine, snow, icicle, candlelight, lamplight and torch flame.

  At the lakeside the steamboat was made ready, but the king announced he wanted his gondolier.

  ‘You shall steer,’ he said to Herr Haller. ‘My Swan Maiden must accompany me, for I have not yet fulfilled her request.’

  As the boat left behind the glimmering lights on the shore, I heard the soft plash of movement, and knew the swans had joined us, swimming in formation alongside the boat; we gained speed at their appearance as though they gave power to our movement. We skirted the Isle of Swans, heading for the bank on the north side of the lake.

  There was movement on the bank as we neared it. A large white figure emerged from the trees. The king’s horned horse had ridden along the bank of the lake and now it plunged into the water. As it moved towards us, it was no longer the head of a great white horse; the horn on its brow elongated into a long, white neck, and its head rose out of the water into the body of a great swan, with a golden crown about its throat. A mist now arose, curling across the water.

  We reached the bank. ‘You must alight,’ the king told Herr Haller. ‘You can go no farther.’

  Herr Haller threw me a panicked look. ‘I don’t wish to leave Elsa,’ he said. ‘Please don’t take her where I cannot follow.’

  ‘He comes! He comes!’ sang a voice from the trees along the bank. Out of the silvered leaves materialised Princess Marie with a crown of gold crocuses pinned to her hair. Princess Sibylle rushed to the edge of the water and plunged in.

  ‘Help her,’ I cried, ‘The water is icy!’ Herr Haller leaped from the boat, standing waist deep in the water as he reached for the princess, but she jabbed him with her cane, causing him to lose his balance and fall back.

  ‘Pull me in,’ she cried, floundering in the star-lit water. With one easy lift the king pulled her aboard while the boat rocked alarmingly, and I clung to the sides.

  There was a second splash as Princess Marie threw herself after her sister. She too was lifted up. The great white swan had moved to the head of the gondolier and the king held a golden chain attached to the swan’s crown. We were pulled away.r />
  ‘Elsa!’ cried Herr Haller from the bank. He flung himself into the water, striking out after us.

  ‘Go back!’ I called. ‘You’ll die in this cold! Go back!’

  I did not know where we were going. The princesses laughed with glee and I was torn between the desire to leap into the lake, so Herr Haller would not risk his life for me, and the desire to know what the king had meant when he said he had not yet fulfilled my request. ‘Go back, Christian,’ I called again. ‘I will return.’

  But I did not know if I would. For I did not know where we were going. Even if the king could grant life to my sick brother in this world, it did not mean that I would remain in it also. That might well be the price of such a gift.

  It was then that a shot rang out.

  Chapter 36

  Endings

  ‘Who’s shooting? I cried. ‘Christian! Are you hurt?’

  The mist was dense now, obscuring everything. I heard a low roar, like that of an engine; I heard splashing—perhaps the splash of oars, or perhaps someone swimming, I could not tell, I only knew that we were now plunging onwards and I seemed to be the only one concerned.

  ‘There it is, there it is!’ cried Princess Marie. Her wet gown clung to her childlike frame, and her silvery hair was plastered to her head. This was madness—we were all going to die of exposure, and what of Christian—was he shot? Was someone coming after us?

  But all thoughts were silenced as the mist parted and the mouth of a cave appeared. At first glance there was no cave to be seen, only stone and overhanging foliage, but in a blink there it was, lit up with lights, like the lanterns of the peasants, but far brighter, bright and startling and magical as fireworks.

  A second swan-drawn boat sat within the entrance. At its prow stood a woman, tall and glowing, with hair pooling to her feet, studded with stars that flashed brilliant as she moved.

  ‘There she is,’ sighed Princess Sibylle. ‘So fair. So lovely. Oh, Sister, we are home at last.’

  ‘Welcome, Son,’ said the tall, glowing woman, bowing her head. ‘Do you return our treasure?’

  ‘I do,’ said the king, holding out the emerald green cup.

  ‘Come, and take your true throne.’ Behind her a throng of tall, glowing figures bowed in unison.

  The king stepped from the boat into the shallow water and moved away. The princesses scrambled after him, and as they entered the cave I stared in awe at their transformation. Where there had been two elderly ladies, with a garland of crushed flowers and soaked nightgowns, now were two young girls, in gowns that shimmered, with fresh flowers crowning their heads. From inside the cave came the sound of music, a song so beautiful that I wanted to cover my ears, for it pierced me, as though I could not bear such beauty. The sisters danced away, bright and glad and laughing.

  I did not know if I should follow. A second gunshot startled me out of my dreamlike state, and yet, the jolt did not entirely bring me out, for the light ahead seemed far more real than the dark lake and the violence of gunpowder behind me.

  There was the sound of splashing and a voice cried out, ‘Elsa!’

  ‘Christian, you’re alive!’ I cried, his voice dragging my eyes away from the cave; I was so relieved to see him appear, his head like that of a seal bobbing above the water.

  ‘Come no closer,’ the king’s voice ordered. ‘You will lose your mind if once you enter Faerie.’

  ‘Stay back, Christian,’ I urged. ‘Or you’ll become as the aunts.’

  ‘What about you?’ he called back; his voice was desperate.

  ‘You may come, if you wish, Swan Maiden,’ said the king, holding out a hand towards me. ‘You will never know death or ugliness or war in my kingdom.’

  I looked towards the mouth of the cave where he stood. I knew instinctively that if I stepped foot over the boundary between earth and Faerie I might never come back. But come back to what? To a life of hiding? To living in the shadows of fear and uncertainty?

  I could live in beauty, far away from violent men. Away from death and sickness. My hand lifted.

  No more Alexis. No more Christian Haller.

  Alexis. That was his name.

  A rush of memory made me gasp. A young boy with dark shadows beneath his eyes; eyes too large for his pale, gaunt face.

  ‘My brother,’ I said, pulling back my hand. ‘Can you help him?’ The king reached for something hanging at the mouth of the cave: a cluster of flowers, like glassy white lilies.

  ‘Cast them to the Little Prince. He will get them to your brother. Forces shall align, and they shall reach their intended.’

  So, I could have both. I could send aid to Alexis and still escape from all my troubles. I did not need to choose.

  ‘Elsa!’ called Herr Haller. ‘Don’t go!’

  His voice sounded fainter. He would die if he lingered much longer in the wintry lake. I had to make a decision quickly.

  ‘What is there to stay for?’ I called back, feeling torn in two. I could not see him; a drift of mist had hidden him. My words sounded faint and lifeless. ‘Why should I not go?’

  ‘Elsa, don’t leave!’

  At his words I saw Alexis. I heard Alexis saying the very same—Elsa, don’t leave me; the image jolted my attention from the lure of the cave. A third gunshot sounded—it was closer.

  ‘I go now, Swan Maiden,’ said the king. ‘Which do you choose, Faerie light or mortal love? Both will endure beyond their worlds. Which world do you choose?’

  I knew where I belonged.

  I stuffed the precious flowers into my bodice, then leaped from the boat, my breath wrenched away at the shock of the cold as I paddled and kicked as hard as I could.

  ‘Christian!’ I called, the mist closing round me, the water seeping into my mouth and nose. Only then did I remember that I was not an experienced swimmer.

  A fourth shot sounded.

  ‘Faster!’ bellowed a man’s voice out of the dark. ‘He’s getting away!’

  The unseen second boat now appeared, it’s engine rumbling like a monster. The face at the helm was contorted with rage as the light of the cave fell upon it. The face was the one of my dreams. Count von Wuelffen was not going to let the king get away. Could he not see that what lay ahead was not something he could fight or control? There was a splash as the count dove into the water, I watched appalled as he thrashed like a man possessed, reaching out to snatch hold of the king’s cloak just as he stepped into the cave.

  As the count reached the border, he screamed as though arrows had pierced him, then flung himself backwards into the dark water, flailing like a drowning man.

  ‘Christian! Where are you?’ Were two men to die before my eyes that night? My worst enemy and my best friend? I saw the second boat draw close to the count; a broad man in fur leaned down and dragged the screaming man into the boat.

  The light of the cave was dimming; as the music and light faded, I felt human fear rise up in me—had I chosen Christian only to lose him in the icy water, or to a bullet? Everybody I loved died. Mama. Papa. Alexis dying far away. I remembered them all so vividly now. What had I done?

  ‘Christian!’ I shrieked. Why did he not answer? I swallowed a mouthful of water and choked and spluttered. The light from the cave now faded, like the sun slipping down below the horizon. I thought I heard the faint notes of music. I thought I heard the gleeful laugh of Princess Sibylle. The sound was gone and cold was seeping into me like iron. I sank down, feeling the last vestige of strength slip away as I tried to reach the surface. I too was going to die.

  ‘You there—grab the rope!’ Something fell crudely before me, and instinctively I took hold of it, to be roughly hauled into a boat by the man dressed in fur.

  On the floor of the boat lay an emptied four-barrelled pistol. Huddled in a corner with his hands over his ears and his eyes wide and blank was Count von Wuelffen. And opposite him in a shivering heap of blankets, lay Christian Haller.

  Chapter 37

  The True Story


  ‘Arrest him!’ cried every member of the committee. ‘Arrest that man on the charge of regicide!’

  ‘Liars!’ screamed Count von Wuelffen. His face was contorted into a snarl of yellow teeth and bulging eyes. ‘You can’t arrest me! Do you know who I am? Let me go! I have the ear of the duke! I have the ear of the general! I have the ear of the regent—I will bring you all down!’

  His voice faded as he was bodily removed from the chamber by four guards.

  ‘Dr Guttenberg, you have interviewed at length the two persons, Herr Haller and Fräulein Opel, also known as Fräulein Schwan, and now, we have reason to understand, Baroness von Winterheimer, who were witnesses of the disappearance of the king.’

  ‘That is so.’

  ‘And their testimonies concur with that of Baron von Fleischmann, who pulled them both out of Swanstein Lake, in affirming that the king was shot by Count von Wuelffen, and thus could not have survived.’

  ‘I cannot confirm that their accounts exactly align with Baron von Fleischmann’s, but the circumstances were that of darkness and confusion. It is not to be wondered at if there are variants in testimony. Both young persons were disordered in their minds as a result of the shock, but we can safely dismiss all irrational statements.’

  ‘So, there is only one conclusion?’

  ‘There is only one conclusion. The king was certainly shot at by Count von Wuelffen, repeatedly. All persons present agree to that fact. As does the number of bullets discharged from the count’s gun barrel. Even if the king were only injured, his wound would be fatal due to the freezing temperature of the water. When the body is found, I am certain it will show that the late king either died of gunshot wounds, or by drowning. There is no possible way he could have survived or escaped.’