A Sojourn in Bohemia

by G. D. Falksen

  “Your Highnesses!” Julius called, raising his hand to greet them as they emerged from the station. “Welcome to East Prussia!”

  Varanus smiled at Julius as he took her hand warmly.

  “Good day, Count von Raabe,” she said. “And how are you?”

  “Much better now that my dear friends have arrived,” Julius answered. He shook Iosef’s hand as he joined them. “Prince Shashavani.”

  To Julius’s credit, he did not comment on the fact that both Varanus and Iosef wore dark glasses, wide hats, and veils to shield themselves from the sun. Once nightfall came there would be no need of them, but until sunset had finally finished its business, it was a necessary precaution.

  “Yes, hello Julius,” Iosef said, as he studied the city. “A very interesting piece of country you have here. And my compliments to your railway. It has proven to be most agreeable.”

  “Thank you, Highness,” Julius said. “But it is surely nothing new. You must have railroads aplenty in so vast a land as Russia.”

  “Of course we do,” Varanus said.

  “Do not believe a word of it,” Ekaterine told Julius. “Why, I have half a mind to move to Germany simply to ride the train every day.”

  “Yes, thank you, Ekaterine,” Varanus interrupted, before Ekaterine could spin off on some wild fancy about becoming an engineer or something.

  Julius winked and motioned to his automobile. “Well, this is very new and quite exciting. A Benz Viktoria. I thought you might enjoy a tour of the countryside while there is still some light. Oh, and there is a carriage for the servants and the luggage, of course.”

  “How thoughtful,” Ekaterine said. She nudged Luka and grinned at him. “That’s where you’ll be traveling, Mister Luka.”

  Luka gave Ekaterine a look out of the corner of his eye and grumbled.

  * * * *

  The drive was pleasant, if a little brisk. There was still enough light to view the windswept countryside as the Benz Viktoria rattled along the road. The land that Varanus saw was mostly fields and meadows, here and there broken by a copse of trees. It was all very green, nature coming to life once more after its winter confinement.

  Throughout the drive, Julius chatted away as usual, speaking with an easy joviality that seemed so out of place with his straight-backed Prussian posture. Varanus listened as their host made mention of certain points of interest, mostly involving quirks of topography or local legends. It was all rather parochial, especially as they drew further and further away from the city and the landscape became increasingly rural.

  “It’s very pretty,” Ekaterine remarked to Varanus.

  “Well, it’s green,” Varanus said.

  “And flat.”

  “Yes, very flat, Ekaterine,” Varanus murmured. She shook her head at the absurd statement.

  “It rather reminds me of Blackmoor, come to think of it,” Ekaterine said.

  Varanus shuddered a little at the mention of her family’s ancient home in England. There was something about their visit there ten years ago that troubled her. She could not bring herself to remember it clearly, and that troubled her most of all.

  “No it does not,” she answered.

  “Blackmoor was very flat,” Ekaterine insisted. “And this is very flat.”

  “It’s not at all the same,” Varanus said. “It is green here. I think the only time we saw anything green in Blackmoor was on a painting.”

  “Blackmoor?” Julius asked, sounding intrigued.

  “My family’s ancestral seat in England,” Varanus explained. “We visited there a few years ago, and the land is very flat.” She looked at Ekaterine and said firmly, “But it was not at all like this.”

  “If you insist.” Ekaterine sighed and raised her hands in acquiescence.

  Julius looked about to comment when they rounded a copse of trees, and he suddenly pointed toward the coast.

  “Ah ha!” he exclaimed. “There it is, Castle Valkenburg.”

  Varanus turned in her seat and looked. There, silhouetted against the orange and purple sky, she saw a gothic fortress built of brick. Once stalwart and imposing, it was now abandoned and majestically decaying. Varanus counted down silently in anticipation of Ekaterine’s reaction.

  “It’s beautiful!” her friend exclaimed, gasping with excitement. “It must be simply filled with ghosts!”

  Julius chuckled and said, “I cannot speak to that, Princess, but it is full of my family’s history. That is Castle Valkenburg, once the jewel of the Teutonic Order, now just an old ruin.”

  “There is no such thing as ‘just a ruin’, Count von Raabe,” Ekaterine corrected.

  Varanus sighed and shook her head. “Yes, there is.”

  Julius continued, “My ancestor, Heinrich von Valkenburg, took his name from the castle when it was given into his keeping by Albert, the first Duke of Prussia, in the sixteenth century. And it has been in the family ever since.” Julius winked. “Though we now have much more comfortable accommodations, I assure you.”

  “A pity,” Ekaterine said. She sounded genuinely disappointed that they would not be spending the night in the ruin.

  “Von Valkenburg?” Iosef asked, entering the conversation without even the slightest indication that he had been listening. “Not Von Raabe?”

  If Julius was surprised by Iosef’s sudden question, he gave no indication. Instead, he laughed a little and replied:

  “Well, you see, we Von Raabes are very new aristocrats where the German nobility is concerned. My grandfather, Jacob Raabe, was a merchant, if you can believe that. But during the war against Napoleon, he raised a free company of soldiers, paid for, equipped, and led by himself. Apparently he had a knack for it. After the war, he was rewarded for his patriotic service with the title of count and a small estate here in East Prussia, which you shall soon see.”

  “And the Von Valkenburgs?” Varanus asked.

  “My mother’s side of the family,” Julius answered. “They were Jacob Raabe’s neighbors when he and his wife and children settled into their new home. And very welcoming neighbors too, I am told, which was kind of them. We aristocrats can be a little…inhospitable to the newly elevated.”

  He spoke cautiously, perhaps measuring his words to be certain that he did not offend his guests, who were surely of much older lineage than he was. It almost made Varanus laugh, though Julius would not have understood why, so she was careful not to do so.

  “I have always considered nobility of character to be more important than nobility of birth,” she said. “Don’t you agree, Iosef?”

  Iosef raised an eyebrow at her. “Indeed.” He looked at Julius and said, “I have no doubt that your grandfather was just as worthy of his position as I am of mine.”

  This seemed to please Julius, who smiled and raised his chin a little higher at the compliment. “Thank you, Your Highness,” he said.

  “Iosef,” came the reminder.

  “Of course, of course. Thank you, Iosef.”

  Ekaterine was still staring at the ruined castle as they passed it. She turned back and asked, “And what became of the Von Valkenburgs?”

  “I am certain they’re not ghosts, if that’s what you are wondering,” Varanus told her, though she spoke in Svanish to avoid offending Julius with Ekaterine’s gothic nonsense.

  “I’ll bet they are,” Ekaterine insisted, also in Svanish.

  “Well, you are looking at them,” Julius answered. When both Varanus and Ekaterine looked from side to side in search of the elusive missing nobility, he quickly explained, “That is to say, I and my family are all that remains of them. You see, the Von Valkenburgs of Jacob’s time had been the victims of great tragedy. Having survived the war unscathed, the family was struck with an outbreak of fever that took both sons and left only a single daughter to pass on the inheritance.”

  “How dreadf
ul!” Ekaterine exclaimed.

  “Alas, it was more or less the end of the Von Valkenburg line,” Julius said sadly. “But it was shortly after Jacob von Raabe and his family had moved to their new estate and, full of Christian feeling, they helped nurse their neighbors back to health. Despite the tragedy—indeed, perhaps because of it—the two families became very close, and when my father and my mother came of age, it seemed only natural for them to marry.”

  “And here you are,” Varanus observed.

  “And here I am.”

  “Curiously enough, something very similar happened to my family during the Crusades,” Varanus said. She had no intention of telling the tale, but the coincidence was amusing enough for her to remark about it.

  Julius did not pry when Varanus did not elaborate, but he smiled.

  “Clearly this friendship was preordained,” he said, to which they shared a laugh.

  * * * *

  Though Varanus would not admit it aloud, Ekaterine had been right about the superficial similarities between their visit to Blackmoor and their current journey: the vast open plain, the sunset arrival by train, the medieval history lingering at the fringes of modernity. But this was an altogether more pleasant visit as well, with green grass instead of the blasted heath of her forefathers. And Julius made a far more agreeable host than Varanus’s English relations.

  It was dark when they finally reached the Von Raabe estate, but the headlights of the automobile and the glimmer of the moon revealed an elegant stately house of the eighteenth century, which was both dignified and welcoming.

  Julius stopped the motorwagon by the front steps and helped the others down from their seats. He caught Varanus’s eye when it was her turn, and he smiled, his hand lingering on hers for a few moments even after she had alighted. Then he quickly motioned to the door.

  “Come, my friends,” he said. “Welcome to my home.” As he led them up the steps, he checked his pocket watch and nodded with satisfaction. “And we are on time. Splendid.”

  “On time?” Varanus asked, as she pulled her veil up onto the brim of her hat where it would appear to be just another adornment. With the sun now fully set, there was no need of it, and Iosef had similarly removed and concealed his own protection.

  “You will laugh because I am a Prussian,” Julius replied, speaking as if it were an invitation, “but we are very punctual here.”

  “Nonsense,” Varanus said. “Who ever heard of a punctual Prussian?”

  Julius sighed and shook his head. “Dinner always begins promptly at six, but tonight we have decided to delay in anticipation of your journey.” He chuckled. “After all, what sort of hosts would we be, eating before our guests arrived?”

  “What sort indeed,” Varanus agreed, as Julius led them inside.

  They were met in the front hall by Julius’s family, who waited to greet the new arrivals at the foot of the stairs. They were led by Julius’s wife—whom he introduced as Augusta—a striking woman in her mid-forties with chestnut hair, perfect poise, and a ready smile much like her husband’s. Though she kept her Prussian formalism, there was the same glimmer of warmth in her voice and her manner as Julius made introductions.

  Next came the four children—three sons and a daughter, all somewhere in their twenties: Paul, Karl, Albrecht, and Mechtilde. Like their parents they were attractive and fair-haired, standing tall with great dignity but only just managing to hide their excitement at meeting strangers. Varanus stifled a laugh at the sight, but she found it charming as well as amusing. It was a very pleasant change from most of the aristocratic company she had been forced to endure over the years.

  The dinner that followed was pleasant, though its content tended toward fish a little more than Varanus liked, perhaps due to their proximity to the coast. Like her grandfather before her, Varanus had little tolerance for the smell of the sea or the taste of its bounty. But there was plenty of far more agreeable fare as well, and it was all quite delicious.

  The conversation was light but friendly, with a great deal of small talk to avoid offending anyone’s sensibilities. But still Varanus did not fail to notice when Augusta remarked, quite innocently, that while Paul and Karl were both married, Albrecht and Mechtilde were still unattached.

  “And have you any children, Princess?” Augusta asked Ekaterine.

  “I’m not married,” Ekaterine replied.

  “Oh?” Augusta exchanged a smile with her husband. “Well, we simply must do something about that.”

  “There will be a great many eligible young men at the soiree tomorrow,” Mechtilde said to Ekaterine. She spoke softly and in confidence, but Varanus had no trouble hearing. “I will point them out to you.”

  “Oh, that sounds like.…” Ekaterine paused, wondering what was the proper thing to say. “Fun?” She did not sound convinced.

  Varanus met her friend’s gaze and shook her head.

  “And do you have any children, Prince Shashavani?” Augusta asked Iosef.

  Iosef had been looking at one of the table lamps with a certain intensity, and he quickly glanced up at hearing himself addressed.

  “Uh…no,” he answered, flashing a little smile.

  “Just the one,” Varanus quickly amended.

  Despite her stated age and Iosef’s apparent youth, it would have seemed odd if their union had not produced any children. Why else would his family have permitted it? And the last thing they needed was to alert suspicions and have strangers prying into the affairs of their illusionary family.

  Iosef glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, but he clearly trusted her judgment in the matter and agreed:

  “Yes, our son. He is…two.”

  “Little Koba,” Ekaterine added with a grin. “He is simply darling. “He has his father’s eyes and his mother’s hair and his auntie’s—”

  “Propensity for starting mischief,” Varanus remarked dry. She quickly turned her attention back to assuaging the Von Raabes. “He is too young to travel, of course, so he is at home in Russia.”

  “It must be terrible being away from your child,” said Karl’s wife, whose name might have been Anna, but Varanus had not really paid attention to her at the time and so could not be sure. She looked at Karl and smiled. “I don’t think we shall travel at all when we have our first child. Not for several years.”

  “No, no, don’t give up so quickly,” Ekaterine interjected. “Once they start walking, you can put them on a lead and take them anywhere—”

  Varanus cleared her throat and interrupted Ekaterine. “You must pardon my sister-in-law, her German is not very good.”

  She glanced at the others, expecting the family to be upset at Ekaterine’s manner of speaking, but in fact they seemed genuinely entertained.

  “Nonsense, that sounds like a rather good idea,” joked Paul. “Marie,” he added, addressing his wife, “we must try that with our two children when we return home to Hannover.”

  “We must,” Marie agreed. “We will call it the ‘Russian method’, and it will be very popular.”

  And they all laughed and nothing more was said about it.

  * * * *

  After dinner, as Paul and Karl went off with their wives to play cards, Augusta took charge of the remaining company:

  “Mechtilde, why don’t you take Princess Shashavani for a tour of the house?” She motioned to indicate Ekaterine. “Oh, and Albrecht, go and keep them company.”

  “Goodness, yes, you simply must see the house,” Mechtilde agreed, taking Ekaterine’s hand and pulling her toward the hall. “Come along, Albrecht, keep up!”

  “Adventure time again!” Ekaterine announced to Varanus as she was whisked away.

  Varanus sighed and shook her head. Why did strange women have to continually steal her friend? At least they weren’t artists this time.

  “Now,” Augusta said to Iosef and
Julius, “I know that the two of you will be spending most of your time here looking at old books, so for tonight I am going to put a stop to all that nonsense before it can start.” She took Iosef by the arm and smiled at him. “If you will permit me, Your Highness, I intend to monopolize you myself tonight. I think perhaps a tour of the library. We have some old manuscripts that an ancestor of mine brought back from the Holy Land—he was a Templar, you know. I think they might interest you.…”

  Iosef exchanged a look with Varanus to which she shrugged. Iosef turned back to Augusta and gave one of his narrow smiles.

  “That sounds agreeable, Countess von Raabe,” he said.

  “Oh please, do call me Augusta.”

  As Iosef and Augusta, too, vanished into the depths of the house, Varanus looked at Julius and smirked.

  “If I did not know you to be a man of propriety, Julius, I would think that you and your wife are trying to marry my sister-in-law to your son.”

  “Perish the thought,” Julius replied with a grin. “Although.…”

  Varanus gave him a look. “And now your wife has just run off with my husband. I might almost believe the two of you are trying to get each of us alone.”

  Julius offered her his arm, which she took, and he led her out through one of the other doors.

  “And does that trouble you, Varanus?” he asked.

  “Of course it doesn’t trouble me,” Varanus replied. “But I am surprised that it does not trouble her…or you.”

  Julius was silent for a few moments as they went on their way, perhaps considering the best reply.

  “My wife and I love each other very much,” he explained, “and we share a great affection. But we have been married for almost thirty years now, and from time to time one enjoys an escape from the familiar. My wife is very fond of men younger than I. Men like your husband.”

  Varanus coughed a little to stop a laugh. The very idea that Iosef might be considered “young” as he neared his second century was rather funny.