The Secret Crown

by Chris Kuzneski

  Ulster laughed in agreement. As a gourmand, he had tasted swan on multiple occasions but had never enjoyed the bird. To him, the meat was stringy and tough, and had a fishy aftertaste – even when it was covered in gravy. ‘Hopefully, you didn’t partake in England.’

  Jones shook his head. ‘Why’s that?’

  ‘Because every swan in England is sovereign property of the queen. Until last century, killing one was a treasonable offence.’

  ‘The queen owns every swan? How does she remember their names?’

  Ulster ignored the question. ‘Technically, she owns every unmarked swan in the United Kingdom except the swans of Orkney, which is an archipelago in northern Scotland. According to an old Udal Viking law, Orkney swans are the property of the island’s residents.’

  Payne glanced at Ulster. ‘And what does this have to do with Ludwig?’

  ‘Nothing,’ he admitted. ‘I just thought it was interesting.’

  ‘Well, for the time being, maybe it would be best if we focused on Ludwig instead of the Vikings since we just flew up the mountain to visit his house.’

  ‘Yes, of course. I apologize for my rambling. Let us focus on the riddle.’

  Payne asked, ‘How do you want to handle this? Do you want to walk the grounds, looking for possibilities? Or do you want to brainstorm the answer to the riddle and go from there?’

  Ulster gazed at the house. ‘Which would you prefer?’

  ‘You tell me. You’re the historian.’

  ‘Personally, I think it would be best if we determined the solution before we scurried round the site. However, I’m not sure that is feasible. Obviously, I’ve given the riddle some thought, and the most logical answer is a swan’s nest. That’s where a swan would go on its journey home. After all, that’s where cygnets are hatched.’

  Payne furrowed his brow. ‘What’s a cygnet?’

  ‘That’s the technical name for a baby swan.’

  Payne shrugged. ‘If you say so. I don’t know much about swans.’

  ‘Neither do I,’ Jones admitted. ‘But a swan’s nest is his home.’

  Ulster sighed. ‘Unfortunately, that means we can probably rule out “nest” as the answer. By definition, a riddle is a puzzle in the form of a question. If the obvious answer were the solution, it wouldn’t technically be a riddle. It would merely be a question.’

  Jones blinked a few times. ‘Believe it or not, that actually made sense.’

  Payne stayed focused. ‘If it isn’t a nest, what could it be?’

  Ulster considered other possibilities. ‘I guess it could be a body of water. After all, most swans build their nests along the shore. Perhaps Ludwig had a favourite spot in mind.’

  Payne turned and studied the grounds that surrounded the King’s House. Because of the steep slope of the peak, melting snow flowed down the mountain and collected in natural ravines. ‘If that’s the case, we’re in the wrong place – unless there’s a hidden lake around here.’

  Ulster shook his head. ‘Not that I know of, but we can certainly ask.’

  Jones re-entered the conversation. ‘I know you’re going to think I’m joking, but is Swan Lake a real place?’

  As little as Payne knew about swans, he knew even less about ballets and classical music. ‘I don’t know. Is it?’

  Ulster answered. ‘That’s an interesting question. Geographically speaking, there isn’t a modern lake in Germany that goes by that name. However, the story of Swan Lake is based on an ancient German legend. Who knows? Perhaps there used to be a Swan Lake in Bavaria that is now called something else.’

  ‘I’ll tell you who would know: a man obsessed with swans,’ Jones said.

  Payne nodded. ‘Good point.’

  Ulster continued. ‘Speaking of Swan Lake, did you know the main character in the ballet was actually modelled after Ludwig? Tchaikovsky, the Russian composer who created this classic in 1875, was fascinated with Ludwig’s life and followed it from afar. In many ways, the two of them were quite similar. Both were sexually confused dreamers who escaped reality by venturing into a dream world. Tchaikovsky had his music, and Ludwig had his castles.’

  Jones asked, ‘Did they ever meet?’

  Ulster shook his head. ‘Not that I’m aware of.’

  ‘But the ballet was written before Ludwig’s death?’

  Ulster nodded. ‘Roughly ten years prior.’

  Jones pondered the timeline. ‘I know Russia and Germany weren’t exactly allies, but I would think a music lover like Ludwig would have been familiar with the production.’

  ‘Undoubtedly.’

  ‘Perhaps he even recognized bits of himself in the main character?’

  ‘Probably.’

  Jones gave it some thought. ‘If that’s the case, do you think the riddle could have something to do with the ballet? Could there be a clue in there?’

  Ulster shrugged. ‘Maybe.’

  ‘Just to be safe,’ Jones said, ‘can you explain the basic plot? I honestly can’t remember what Swan Lake is about.’

  Payne groaned. He felt a lecture coming on. ‘But please keep it short.’

  Ulster promised to be concise. ‘The story of Swan Lake is centred on Prince Siegfried, who is notified before his twenty-first birthday that his marriage will soon be arranged. Dreading his future responsibilities, he heads to the woods where he stumbles across an enchanted lake filled with many swans. Much to his surprise, one of the swans has a crown on its head. As the sun sets, the swan turns into the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. Her name is Odette, and she’s the Swan Queen. She tells the prince that over the years an evil sorcerer has turned many girls into swans. The lake itself was formed from the tears of crying parents. She also informs him that the spell can only be broken if a man pledges his heart to her. Head over heels in love, the prince is about to confess his true feelings when the sorcerer takes Odette from the prince’s arms and whisks her away.’

  ‘Is that it?’ Payne asked, hopefully.

  ‘For the first two acts. I still have two more to go.’

  ‘I thought you said you were going to be concise.’

  Ulster smiled. ‘For me, that was concise. Keep in mind, this is typically a three-hour production. I just covered half of it in thirty seconds.’

  Payne nodded his appreciation. ‘Go on.’

  ‘The very next day, the prince is shown several prospective brides at his birthday gala. One of them is Odile, the daughter of the sorcerer, who has been made to look like Odette through a magic spell. Captivated by her beauty, the prince confesses his love to the impostor, an act witnessed by Odette from a nearby window. Broken-hearted, she runs towards the woods crying. As she does, the prince catches a glimpse of her and realizes his error. Eventually, he catches up to Odette at Swan Lake and explains his mistake. As she accepts the prince’s apology, the sorcerer arrives and tells him he must keep his promise to marry his daughter. The prince says he would rather die with Odette than marry Odile. To prove his point, he grabs Odette’s hand and they jump into the lake together, where they promptly drown. But, thanks to his actions, the magic spell is broken and all the other swans turn back into girls.’

  Jones interrupted him. ‘Wait a second! You’re telling me the character based on Ludwig drowns in a lake, and ten years later, Ludwig dies in a lake, too. That’s some freaky shit!’

  ‘Actually,’ Ulster said, ‘I’m not quite finished yet. There’s more drowning still to come.’

  ‘Really?’

  Ulster smiled. ‘Angered by the two deaths, the girls force the sorcerer and his daughter into the lake and watch them drown. The ballet ends as the spirits of the prince and Odette ascend into the heavens above Swan Lake.’

  Jones waited for a few seconds, unsure. ‘Are you done now?’

  Ulster nodded. ‘I am.’

  ‘That’s some freaky shit, too!’ Jones blurted.

  ‘How so?’ Payne asked.

  ‘Weren’t you listening?’

  ‘Barely.�
��

  Normally Payne was the serious one, and Jones was the jester. All it took was one story about a ballet for their roles to be reversed.

  Jones smiled at the irony. ‘Don’t you get it? The sorcerer behind the deception drowned in the same lake as the prince – just like the doctor behind the deception drowned in the same lake as Ludwig. That can’t be a coincidence.’

  Payne grunted. ‘You’re right; it does seem suspicious.’

  Ulster shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘Honestly, I don’t know if Ludwig’s murder was staged to mimic the ballet or not, but the story of Siegfried and Odette helped establish Ludwig’s nickname as the Swan King.’

  ‘How so?’ Payne asked.

  ‘If they hadn’t been killed, Siegfried and the Swan Queen would have been married, which would have made him the Swan King. And as I mentioned, the character of Siegfried was based on Ludwig, so …’

  Payne nodded in understanding. ‘Throw in Ludwig’s obsessions with swans and that Swan Knight character you told us about earlier, and the nickname stuck.’

  ‘He was also called the Dream King, the Fairytale King and Mad King Ludwig, but the Swan King is used most often.’

  Payne paused for a moment to consider everything he had learned. Swan Lake, one of the most famous ballets in history, was connected to Ludwig. The black swan logo had been designed by Ludwig. And the riddle about the swan had been written by Ludwig. Yet as far as Payne could tell, they still had no idea where a swan would go on his journey home.

  Or what they would find if they figured it out.

  25

  From a distance, the King’s House on Schachen resembled a hunting lodge on top of a scenic crest. Painted beige and dark brown, the wooden post-and-infill structure was two storeys in the centre but only half as tall on the left and right, as if additional rooms had been added at the last minute. To Payne, the house looked like two capital ‘L’s, stapled back to back. It certainly wasn’t the worst design he had ever seen, yet it seemed out of place in the dream world that Ludwig had created for himself. Why build a house instead of a castle?

  ‘Remember,’ Ulster said as if reading Payne’s mind, ‘the interior is far more luxurious than the exterior. Don’t be fooled by the outside.’

  ‘Your friend is correct,’ said a feminine voice from the top of the hill. ‘The rough outer shell protects the pearl within.’

  ‘Petr,’ said Jones as he searched for the source, ‘the house is talking.’

  ‘And listening,’ she replied, her voice slightly tinged with a German accent.

  Jones grabbed Ulster’s arm. ‘Petr, I’m scared … Hold me.’

  Payne laughed and pointed out the speaker’s location. A series of decorative wooden beams ran from the top of the sharply peaked roof to the banister of the second-floor veranda. The mystery woman was standing underneath the overhang, partially hidden in the shadows. Though he couldn’t see her face, her naturally blonde hair and fair complexion had given her away.

  ‘How often do you scare tourists?’ he called out as he walked up the hillside.

  ‘Only when they scare us first. We thought there was an avalanche,’ she said.

  Payne kept walking, still unable to see her face because of the shadows. ‘Why did you think that?’

  ‘Why?’ she said sharply. ‘Because most people walk here.’

  ‘Uh-oh,’ Jones whispered. ‘We pissed off the house.’

  Payne told Jones and Ulster to stay put, then focused his attention on her. ‘Sorry about the helicopter. We parked down below to minimize the noise. I hope you can forgive us.’

  ‘That depends.’

  ‘On what?’

  ‘On the reason you didn’t hike here like everyone else.’

  When Payne reached the top of the hill, he could finally see who he was talking to. Dressed in jeans and a dark sweater, the pretty blonde stared at him, her emotions partially concealed by the long hair that danced across her face in the crisp mountain breeze. In a well-practised move, she casually grabbed her hair with one hand and slid a band off her wrist with the other. A few seconds later, a blonde ponytail dangled back and forth behind her head.

  ‘I’m still waiting,’ she said impatiently.

  As Payne walked closer, he noticed several small things about her – the freckles on her nose, the way her jeans hugged her hips, the curves underneath her sweater. But most importantly, he noticed a twinkle in her light blue eyes. It let him know that she was sassy, not angry.

  ‘I’m waiting, too,’ he shot back.

  She stared at him. ‘For what?’

  ‘For you to say hello. Or isn’t that ritual observed up here?’

  ‘Hello,’ she said sarcastically. ‘Now answer my question. Why didn’t you hike here?’

  ‘Hello to you, too,’ he said, ignoring her question. ‘My name’s Jon. What’s yours?’

  She sighed. ‘Heidi.’

  He stuck out his hand. ‘Nice to meet you, Heidi. I like what you’ve done with the place. When did you move in?’

  But instead of shaking his hand, she stared at it coldly. ‘Sorry, Jon. No more kindness from me until you answer my question. Why didn’t you hike here like everyone else?’

  He lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘Can you keep a secret?’

  ‘Depends on the secret.’

  Payne pointed back towards Jones and Ulster. ‘I’m not going to name any names, but one of my friends is slightly out of shape. To be perfectly blunt, we didn’t know if his heart could handle a four-hour hike, so we convinced him to fly instead.’

  She peeked round Payne – since he was too tall to glance over – and studied his friends. It didn’t take long to figure out which one he was talking about. ‘What if he wasn’t here?’

  ‘You mean, if he was dead?’

  ‘No!’ she gasped. ‘If he wasn’t with you, would you have made the hike?’

  ‘Come on, Heidi. What do you think?’

  Now it was her turn to check him out.

  Starting with his feet, she noticed his hiking boots. They were worn and caked with dirt. His muscular legs stretched his cargo pants to their limit, yet somehow the seams didn’t burst. Earlier, she had noticed his hand when he had attempted to shake hers. It wasn’t the hand of a working man – the nails were too clean and his fingers were free of calluses – but she had noticed some scars near his knuckles. Clearly he had been in a few fights over the years, and judging by his size, he had probably won most of them. For some reason, she found that quality – the willingness to fight for something – very attractive in a man.

  She patted him on the arm. ‘If I had to guess, I’d say no.’

  ‘No?’ he said, laughing.

  ‘You’re too big to hike. I’m guessing a guy like you has no stamina.’

  ‘Trust me, Heidi. I have size and stamina.’

  She ignored the innuendo. ‘Why are you here?’

  ‘To see the house. Why are you so mean?’

  ‘Not mean, protective. Big difference.’

  ‘Not to the person you’re yelling at.’

  ‘Trust me, I’m not yelling. If I were yelling, you’d know.’

  ‘In other words, you’re a screamer?’

  This time, Heidi smiled. ‘Does this approach work often?’

  ‘What approach is that?’

  ‘Your whole flirty-comment thing.’

  ‘First of all, my thing isn’t flirting. If it was flirting, you’d know. Secondly, you’re the one who started it. My friends and I were having a personal conversation, and you butted in.’

  She poked him in his chest. ‘Only because you shook the mountain.’

  ‘With our talking?’

  ‘With your helicopter,’ she snapped. ‘Tell me, do you know why King Ludwig chose this remote location for his house?’

  ‘Because he wanted to get away.’

  ‘From what?’

  ‘Civilization.’

  ‘Do you know why?’

  ‘Not really,’ he
admitted.

  She explained. ‘Because up here, Ludwig could look down on the world instead of the world looking down on him.’

  Payne smiled, impressed. ‘That’s pretty deep. Did you just make that up?’

  She stared at him, trying to decide if he was being sarcastic. Eventually, she decided he wasn’t. ‘As a matter of fact, I did.’

  ‘You’re pretty passionate about this place. How long have you worked here?’

  ‘Since June. That’s when we opened for the season.’

  ‘And before that?’

  ‘Ludwig’s other castles: Linderhof, Neuschwanstein and the Munich Residenz.’

  ‘Are you a student?’

  She laughed at the question. ‘I’m too old to be a student.’

  ‘Maybe for high school. But there’s no age limit on learning.’

  ‘Now look who’s deep.’

  Payne smiled. ‘If you’re not a student, what are you? A tour guide?’

  ‘Something like that. I work for the Bavarian Palace Department. We oversee all the castles and royal properties in Bavaria. My area of interest is Ludwig Friedrich Wilhelm von Wittelsbach, but most people call him Ludwig.’

  Payne laughed. ‘That’s because most people can’t remember Ludwig Friedrich von blah blah blah – or whatever you said.’

  She smiled, revealing a perfect set of white teeth. ‘So, why are you here? From your accent, I would say you’re from, um … Ohio?’

  He shook his head. ‘Western Pennsylvania.’

  ‘Oh, well. I was close.’

  ‘And based on your diction and mild accent, I’d say you were born in Germany but went to school in the States.’

  She nodded, impressed. ‘Big and smart. Now I’m doubly curious about your presence here. Are you a fan of Ludwig?’

  ‘Honestly, no. But my plump friend is.’ Payne turned and signalled for Jones and Ulster to join them by the house. ‘We’re just keeping him out of trouble.’

  She watched Ulster as he waddled up the hill. Despite gasping for air, he had a smile on his face the entire time. ‘Yeah, he seems like a troublemaker.’

  ‘Don’t let his cheerfulness fool you. The guy is a tiger.’