Power of the Sword c-10

by Wilbur Smith

  To the Rupertstrasse, she ordered the driver.

  They drove slowly down the Kurfarstendamin, watching the throngs of merry-makers on the brightly lit sidewalks, then the Mercedes accelerated as they entered the quieter streets of the westerly section of the Granewald district.

  This was the millionaires, village on the western outskirts of the sprawling city, and Manfred relaxed and settled back against the leather upholstery and turned to the lovely woman beside him. She was talking seriously, asking him questions about himself and his family, and about his country. Quickly he realized that she had a much better knowledge of South Africa than he could have expected, and he wondered how she had acquired it.

  She knew the history of war and conflict and rebellion, the struggle of his people against the barbarous black tribes, and then the subjugation of the Afrikaner by the British, and the terrible threats to their existence as a people.

  The English, she said, and there was a knife-edge of bitterness in her tone. They are everywhere, bringing war and suffering with them, Africa, India, my own Germany. We too have been oppressed and persecuted. if it were not for our beloved Fithrer, we should still be staggering under the yoke of the Jew and the English. Yes, he is a great man, your Fahrer, Manfred agreed and then he quoted: What we must fight for is to safeguard the existence and reproduction of our race and our people, the sustenance of our children and the purity of our blood, the freedom and independence of the fatherland, so that our people may mature for the fulfilment of the mission allotted it by the creator of the universe. Wein Kampf, she exclaimed. You can quote the words of the Fuhrer! They had passed a signing ant milestone in their relationship, Manfred realized.

  With those words he has captured everything that I feel and believe, he said. He is a great man, head of a great nation. The house in the Rupertstrasse was set back from the road in large gardens on the bank of one of the beautiful Havel Lakes. There were a dozen chauffeured limousines parked

  in the driveway, most of them with swastika pennants on their bonnets and uniformed chauffeurs waiting behind the wheels. All the windows of the large house were lit and there was the sound of music and voices and laughter as their own chauffeur let them out of the Mercedes under the portico.

  Manfred offered Heidi his arm and they went in through the open front doors, crossed a lobby of black and white chequered marble slabs and panelled walls decorated with a forest of stag antlers, and paused in the doorway of the large reception room beyond. The room was already filled with guests. Most of the men were in dashing uniforms that glittered with the insignia of rank and regiment, while the women were elegant in silks and velvets, with shoulders bare and hair bobbed in the latest style.

  The laughter and conversation subsided as they turned to examine the newcomers, and there were interested and calculating appraisals, for Manfred and Heidi made a strikingly handsome couple. Then the conversation picked up again.

  There is Uncle Sigmund, Heidi exclaimed, and drew Manfred into the room towards the tall uniformed figure who came to meet them.

  Heidi, my dear. He stooped over Heidi's hand as he kissed it. 'You grow more beautiful each time I see you., Manfred, this is my uncle, Colonel Sigmund Boldt. Uncle Sigmund, may I present Herr Manfred De La Rey, the South African boxer. Colonel Boldt shook hands with Manfred. He had pure white hair scraped severely back from the thin face of an academic, with good bone structure and a narrow aristocratic nose.

  Heidi tells me that you are of German extraction? He wore a black uniform with silver death's head insignia on the lapels; and one eyelid drooped, while the eye itself watered uncontrollably and he dabbed at it with the fine linen handkerchief he held in his right hand.

  That is true, Colonel. I have very strong ties to your country, Manfred replied.

  Ah, you speak excellent German. The colonel took his arm. 'There are many people here this evening who will want to meet you, but first tell me, what do you think of the black American boxer, Cyrus Lomax? And what will be your tactics when you meet him? With discreet social grace, either Heidi or Colonel Boldt were always on hand to steer him from one group of guests to the next, and the wine waiter brought him a glass of mineral water when he refused the champagne that was offered.

  However, they left him longer than usual with one guest whom Heidi had introduced as General Zoller, a tall Prussian officer in field grey uniform with an iron cross at the throat who, despite a rather undistinguished and forgettable face with pale sickly features, proved to have a sharp incisive intelligence. He questioned Manfred minutely on the politics and conditions in South Africa, particularly as to the feelings of the average Afrikaner towards their ties to Great Britain and the Empire.

  While they spoke, General Zoller chain-smoked a series of thin cigarettes wrapped in yellow paper with a strong herbal odour, and every now and again he wheezed with asthma. Manfred quickly found that he was sympathetic and had an encyclopaedic grasp of African affairs; the time passed very quickly before Heidi came across the room and touched his arm.

  Excuse me, General Zoller, but I have promised the boxing coach that I will have his star back before nine o'clock. I have enjoyed meeting you, young man. The general shook Manfred's hand. Our countries should be good friends. Manfred assured him, I will do all in my power to bring that about., Good luck for the Games, Herr de La Rey. in the Mercedes again Heidi remarked, My uncle liked you very much, and so did many of his friends, General Zoller for one. I enjoyed the evening. Do you like music, Manfred? He was a little surprised by the question. I enjoy some music, but I am no expert. 'Wagner? Yes, I like Wagner very much. Uncle Sigmund has given me two tickets to the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra for next Friday. The young conductor Herbert von Karajan is performing a programme of Wagner. I know you will be fighting your first bout that afternoon, but afterwards we could celebrate. She hesitated, and then she went on quickly, Forgive me, you think me forward, but I assure you No, no. I would be greatly honoured to accompany you whether I win or lose. 'You will win, she said simply. I know you will., She dropped him in front of the team house, and waited until he had gone in before she ordered the driver, Back to the Rupertstrasse. When she got back to the colonel's house most of the other guests were leaving. She waited quietly until he came back from seeing the last of them away and, with an inchnation of his silver hair, ordered her to follow him. His treatment of her had altered completely, it was now brusque and superior.

  He crossed to the unobtrusive oak door at the far end of the room and went in ahead of her. Heidi entered and closed the door behind her softly, then drew herself to attention and stood waiting. Colonel Boldt left her standing while he poured two balloon glasses of cognac and took one to General Zoller where he sat in the wingbacked chair beside the log fire in the stone fireplace, puffing at one of his herbal cigarettes, with an open file on his knees.

  So, FrIulein, Colonel Boldt sank into the leather chair and waved Heidi towards the couch, sit down. You may relax in your "uncle's" house. She smiled politely but sat stiff-backed on the edge of the couch and Colonel Boldt turned back to the general.

  May I ask the general's opinion of the subject? and General Zoller looked up from the file.

  There seems to be a grey area surrounding the subject's mother. Is it confirmed that his mother was a German, as he claims? I am afraid we do not have confirmation on that. We can establish no proof of his mother's nationality, although I have made exhaustive enquiries amongst our people in South West Africa. The general belief is that she died at childbirth in the African wilderness. However, on his father's side there is definite documented proof that his grandmother was German and that his father fought most valiantly for the Kaiser's army, in Africa. Yes, I see that, the General said testily, and looked up at Heidi. What sentiments has he expressed to you, Fraulein? He is very proud of his German blood, and he looks upon himself as the natural ally of the German people. He is a great admirer of the Fuhrer and can quote at length from Mein Kampf. The general coughed
and wheezed and lit another cigarette with a taper from the fire before turning all his attention back to the red file with the eagle and swastika emblem on the front cover. The others waited quietly for almost ten minutes before he looked up at Heidi.

  What relationship have you established with the subject, Fraulein? On Colonel Boldt's orders, I have made myself agreeable and friendly towards him. I have in small ways conveyed my interest as a woman towards him. I have shown him that I am knowledgeable and interested in the art of boxing, and that I know a great deal about the problems of his fatherland. Frulein Kramer is one of my best operatives, Colonel Boldt explained. She has been given a thorough grounding in the history of South Africa and the sport of boxing by our department. The general nodded. Proceed, Friulein, he ordered, and Heidi went on.

  I have conveyed to him my sympathy for his people's political aspirations and made it clear that I am his friend, with the possibility of more than that., There has been no sexual intimacy between your No, my General. I judge that the subject would be offended if I were to proceed too rapidly. As we know from his file, he comes from a strict Calvinist religious background. Besides which, I have not received orders from Colonel Boldt to initiate sexual advances. Good, the general nodded. This is a matter of major importance. The Fuhrer himself is aware of our operation.

  He considers, as I do, that the southern tip of Africa has enormous tactical and strategic importance in our plans for global expansion. It guards the sea routes to India and the East, and in the event that the Suez Canal is denied to our shipping, it is the only route available. In addition, it is a treasure house of raw material vital to our military preparations, chrome, diamonds, the platinum group minerals.

  With this in mind, and after my meeting with the subject, I am of the firm belief that we must proceed. Therefore, the operation now has full departmental sanction and a "red" ratings Very good, my General., 'The code name for the operation will be "White Sword" Das Weisse Schwart!

  Jawohl, my General. Fraulein Kramer, you are now assigned exclusively to this operation. You will, at the first opportunity, initiate sexual intimacy with the subject in such a way as not to alarm nor offend him, but rather to strengthen our hold over his allegiance. 'Very well, my General. In due course it may be necessary for you to enter into a form of marriage with the subject. Is there any reason why you could not do so, if required? Heidi did not hesitate. None, my General. You can rely on my duty and loyalty entirely. I will do whatever is required of me. Very good, Frulein. General Zoller coughed and hunted noisily for breath, and his voice was still rough as he went on, Now, Colonel, it will suit our purpose if the subject is winner of a gold medal at these Games. It will give him a a great deal of prestige in his home country, apart from the ideological aspect of a white Aryan triumphing over a person of an inferior black race. 'I understand, my General. There is not a serious German contender for the light heavyweight title, is there? No, my General, the subject is the only serious white contender. We can make certain that all matches which the subject fights are refereed and judged by members of the Party who are under the control of our department.

  Naturally, we cannot effect the decision in the case of a knock-out, but- Naturally, Boldt, but you will do all in your power, and Frdulein Kramer will report daily to Colonel Boldt on her progress with the subject. Both the Courtney and Malcomess clans had descended upon the luxurious Bristol Hotel rather than the Olympic village, though David Abrahams had bowbd to the dictates of the athletics coach and moved into the apartment house with his team mates, so that Shasa saw little of him during the days of hard training leading up to the opening of the Games.

  Mathilda Janine prevailed on Tara to accompany her to most of the field athletic training, in return for equal timeshares of her company at the polo fields, so the two girls spent most of their time dashing from the vast Olympic complex across Berlin to the equestrian centre at high speed, the only rate of progress with which Tara seemed able to conduct her father's green Bentley.

  The brief lay-off from training, combined with the imminence of the Games themselves, seemed to have sharpened David's running rather than harmed it. He returned some excellent times during those five days and courageously resisted Mathilda Janine's suggestion that he should sneak out for just an hour or two in the evenings.

  You are in with a chance, Davie, his coach told him, checking the stopwatch after his last run before the official opening ceremony.

  Just concentrate it all now and you'll have a bit of tin to take home with you. Both Shasa and Blaine were delighted with the ponies that their German hosts had provided. Like everything else in the equestrian centre, the grooms, stabling and equipment were all without fault, and under Blaine's iron control, the team settled down to concentrated practice and were soon once more a cohesive phalanx of horsemen.

  Between their own long sessions on the practice field, they watched and judged the other teams whom they would have to meet. The Americans, expense not considered, had brought their own mounts across the Atlantic. The Argentinians had gone one better and brought their grooms as well, in flat-brimmed gaucho hats and leather breeches decorated with silver studs.

  Those are the two to beat, Blaine warned them. But the Germans are surprisingly good, and the Brits, as always, will be slogging away at it. We can flatten any of them, Shasa gave the team the benefit of his vast experience, with a little luck. Tara was the only one who took the boast seriously, as from the stand she watched him tear down the side field, sitting tall in the saddle, a beautiful young centaur, lean and lithe, white teeth flashing against the dark tan of his face.

  He's so big-headed and cock-sure, she lamented. If only I could just ignore him. If only life wasn't just so flat when he's not around.

  By nine o'clock on the morning of 1 August 1936, the vast

  Olympic stadium, the largest in the world, was packed with over one hundred thousand human beings.

  The turf of the central isle had been groomed into an emerald velvet sheet, and ruled with the stark white lanes and circles that marked out the venue for the field events.

  The running track around the periphery was of brick-red cinders. High above it rose the Tribune of Honour', the reviewing stand for the traditional march-past of the athletes. At the far end of the stadium was the Olympic altar with its tripod torch still cold.

  Outside the entrance to the stadium stretched the Maifeld, its open acres of space containing the high bell tower with the legend: 'Ich rufe die Jugend der Welt, I summon the youth of the world. And the massed echelons of athletes were drawn up to face down the long boulevard of the Kaiserdamm, renamed for the solemn occasion the Via Triumphalis. High above the field floated the giant airship, the Hindenburg, towing behind it the banner of the Olympics, the five great linked circles.

  From afar a faint susurration rose on the cool still morning air. Slowly it grew louder, closer. A long procession of open four-door Mercedes tourers was approaching down the Via Triumphalis, chromework gleaming like mirrors, passing between the closed ranks of fifty thousand brown-uniformed storm troopers who lined both sides of the way, holding back a dense throng of humanity, ten and twenty deep, who roared with adulation as the leading vehicle passed them and threw their right arms high in the Nazi salute.

  The cavalcade drew to a halt before the legion of athletes and from the leading Mercedes Adolf Hitler stepped down.

  He wore the plain brown shirt, breeches and jackboots of a storm trooper. Rather than rending him inconspicuous, this sombre unadorned dress seemed rather to distinguish him in the mass of brilliant uniforms, gold lace, bearskins and stars and ribbons that followed him between the ranks of athletes towards the marathon gate of the stadium.

  So that is the wild man, Blaine Malcomess thought as Hitler strolled by, not five paces from where he stood. He was precisely as Blaine had seen him portrayed a thousand times, the dark hair combed forward, the small square mustache. But Blaine was unprepared for the intense Messianic gaze that r
ested upon him for a fleeting part of a second, then passed on. He found that the hair on his forearms had come erect and prickled electrically, for he had just looked into the eyes of an Old Testament prophet, or a madman.

  Following close behind Adolf Hitler were all his favourites: Goebbels wore a light summer suit, but Goering was portly and resplendent in the sky-blue full-dress of a Luftwaffe marshal and he saluted the athletes casually with his gold baton as he went by. At that moment the great bronze bell high above the Maifeld began to toll, summoning the youth of the world to assembly.

  Hitler and his entourage passed out of sight, entering the tunnel beneath the stands, and a few minutes later a great fanfare of trumpets, magnified a hundred times by the banks of loudspeakers, crashed over the field and a massed choir burst into Deutschland fiber alles. The ranks of athletes began to move off, wheeling into their positions for the entry parade.

  As they emerged from the gloom of the tunnel into the sunlit arena, Shasa exchanged a glance with David marching beside him. They grinned at each other in shared excitement as the great waves of sound, amplified music from the bands and the choir singing the Olympic hymn and the cheering of one hundred thousand spectators, poured over them. Then they looked ahead, chins up, arms swinging, and stepped out to the grandeur of Richard Strauss's music.

  In the rank ahead of Shasa, Manfred De La Rey stepped out as boldly, but his eyes were focused on the brown-clad figure far ahead in the front rank of the Tribune of Honour and surrounded by princes and kings. As they came level, he wanted to fling up his right arm and shout, Heil Hitler! but he had to restrain himself. After lengthy discussion and argument, the counsel of Blaine Malcomess and the other English speakers in the team had prevailed. Instead of the German salute the team members merely snapped their heads around in the eyes right salute as they came level. A low whistle and stamp of disapproval from the largely German spectators followed them. Manfred's eyes burned with tears of shame at the insult he had been forced to offer the great man on the high dais.