Chapter 18
Thursday. April 8th, 2004
Although the temperature was becoming warmer and warmer, April was cold and the springtime elusive, Goran was glad that he was out of the office early. He felt trapped among the boisserie panels, heavy furniture and carpets. It wasn't his environment at all. He preferred the forest and the fields; the smell of the wet earth to the expensive perfumes the women favoured. He was a hunter not a courtesan; nothing could be compared to the thrill of the hunting, of lying in wait over the ground at dawn.
Leaning against the big black car in the small and quiet street was a hundred times better than wasting his time with an associate or subordinate unable to understand a simple command. At least Michael Dähler had been an excellent asset as strategy advisor and tomorrow's meeting was going to be a tough one with several associates furious for the loss of 4.8 billion and many more in contracts in the former Soviet Union. The news about Guntram had reached them—bloody gossiping women and stupid von Kleist—and they wanted to trade him for a better relation with Repin, and 'come to me crying when the Russian takes all their money and kills their children. They never learn; the Duke is right. The only way to control Repin is to have something he really cares about. I will not let that monster have my little brother again. God gave me a chance to redeem myself and I will not waste it. I hope the Duke gives me soon the order to terminate that woman.'
“Hi, Goran! I didn't expect you to see here!” the voice of Guntram interrupted his musings. The Serb was surprised that the boy was smiling at him with true happiness shining in his eyes. 'When was the last time someone was happy to see me? Only when Pavel was here.'
“Hello Guntram, I see you're much better than when you came here.” He said as he carefully evaluated the boy standing in front of him. How was he able to approach him without being noticed? The month in the castle has been certainly good for him as Guntram's ashy complexion had been replaced by a rosier one and his eyes were not showing a deep terror and mistrust to everyone coming next to him. 'Antonov did a good job with him.'
“I feel much better, Goran. I can't run a triathlon, but the new medications are much better for me. I was in the movies twice already and in restaurants.”
“Yes, I've heard about your escapade with Antonov to the Burger King.”
“I had a salad and no fries,” Guntram defended himself. “Besides, Friederich scolded me already.”
“I'm driving you home today. Antonov had to leave the country for a few weeks. I need him in Central Asia. You will get another bodyguard from tomorrow onwards,” Goran said while he got into his car, followed by Guntram. He started the engine and casually asked; “how's everything between you and the Duke?”
“Fine. I keep myself quiet and scarce and there are no problems between us.”
“He told me he was satisfied with your behaviour.”
“I do my best to avoid clashing with him, but sometimes I would like to break something in his head,”
Guntram said and heard the Serb chuckle.
“Get in line, boy. There are many in front of you. Does he treat you well?”
“Yes, he's very polite to me. He treats me as a member of his family according to him but he's very stern.
He checks that I do all my school assignments, work at the studio with Ostermann and study. He even inspects my drawings. What can he know about art? Does he count how many sheets I use or if I paint out of the square?”
“He knows much more than you think, Guntram. He never tells it, but he knows, believe me. Oblomov bet with him that he could not identify a painting from you when he had only seen that children's portrait or his wife's, and he got it right in less than five seconds.”
“He's very intelligent and well educated. His conversation when he has guests is impressive. How many languages does he speak?”
“Five or six. Let me see, German, English, French, Italian, Russian, some Mandarin and can swear in Serb. Good knowledge of Latin too, but that's Friederich's doing.”
“When did he learn all that? At night he's only reading his papers and documents.”
“Private teachers since infancy and a very stern father. He can't tolerate laziness. What he demands from the others, he demands to himself first.”
“I believe you,” Guntram sighed as he remembered how he had been questioned on London Georgian Architecture two nights ago and the reprimand earned for ignoring the trade routes from India and the Antilles. “I passed a test a few days ago but he asked things that were not in the program. I got four books more to read and probably study before next Sunday. He should have been a School Principal, not banker.”
“Art and History together, the subjects he loves most. You're dead Guntram. He will bury you under his books or get you new ones.”
“I thought it was Economics or business.”
“That's working. It's a different story. The Duke appreciates you. You're not what he was expecting.”
“He's also not, well, he's not all the things they told me about him. What did he think about me if he didn't know me?”
“You were Repin's boyfriend. You should be a whimsical, good for nothing plaything,” the Serb shrugged and Guntram blushed from fury.
“Yeah, he already called me “expensive rent boy”, but he apologised later. I was never Constantin's toy! I don't want to be one. The only thing I want is to get away and live my life away from all of you. I never asked to come here, to destroy a man's marriage or become a hostage.”
“Don't be so upset. It's bad for you. I don't believe you were such things. He truly appreciates you and wants to protect you from Repin. Once the year is over, he will take you back and it will be the same as before or worse as his paranoia will be unleashed. The Duke “robbed” you once and knows that you're his weakest point.”
“I know but perhaps he forgets me,” Guntram said desperately. “I don't want to be put in a beautiful house with a guard or be his doll.”
“Don't count on it. Your only chance to leave Repin is to stay and become one of us. The Duke will back you up, but you have to be his friend too,” Goran said very softly and concentrated on the driving while Guntram thought on his words, his gaze lost in the countryside.
Guntram kept silent for the rest of the trip and when he got out of the car parked in the courtyard, a bodyguard rushed toward them. “One moment,” Goran said and took two large rectangular leather cases from the trunk. “Come Guntram, I have to leave this at the meeting room for tomorrow.”
“Do you need help?”
“No, you can look but you can't touch,” Goran cracked a smile. “Only the Hochmeister or the Summus Marescalus. I'll show you. They're impressive pieces. Follow me.”
Guntram trailed after Goran with big eyes as he passed the wings the boy normally was allowed to visit and directed himself to the south wing, where was the big ball room and another one always closed. He was surprised to see Friederich and many butlers and security personnel in the area when only the maids were dusting twice per week.
“Everything is ready, Mr. Pavicevic,” Friederich announced.
“Excellent, Mr. Elsässer. Thank you very much.”
“Should Guntram be…?”
“The Duke has allowed it. It's time Guntram understands what it means to be one of us,” Goran said and took the keys from Friederich's hands. “Follow me; you'll see the Hall of Knights. It shares its walls with the Chapel.
This room is only opened for this meeting and can't be used for something that it's not related to the Order.”
“I see.”
Guntram was ushered into a large hall some twenty metres long and seven metres wide decorated with a marble floor, with portraits hanging from white Spartan walls and several long tables forming an U in front of an elevated platform with a old, solid wood table and ten chairs, one bigger than the others and only a painted crucifix on that wall.
“The largest chair belongs to the Griffin, the Duke and the one at his right to the Magnus Commendator and the one in the left to the Summus Marescalus and seven councillors more, three from the past Hochmeister and four new. They are the ones who make all recommendations. The Crucifix was made by Cimabue and it was a gift from the first consort to the founder Theodobald von Lintorff, I don't remember his name but he was responsible for most of the alliances forged at the XVII century. It's a treasure for us, made in 1260 as an early study for the one hanging in Santa Maria Maggiore. It's much smaller than the final version but I believe it shows the same devotion as that one,” Goran said to a shocked Guntram while he placed the two large cases. “On the tables sit the associates or members. We had to forgo of the word knight because there are not many noblemen left. I would say that sixty-five percent of them are bourgeoisie that jumped in after War World Two.”
He opened the boxes and presented two long swords laying on the interior velveted cases. One was looking very old and the large handle formed a crucifix while the other had the handle like an inverted moon.
Guntram swallowed hard as he recognised the weapons from the horror stories the Russians used to tell him.
“It's a two handed iron sword. Used by the Spanish Inquisition for beheading. Nowadays is a ceremonial sword and belongs to the Griffin. There's another original at the Royal Arms Museum in Madrid. Mine is a contemporary design based on the Tizona. I thought it was appropriate to keep the Spanish flare to all as we are a team. For practice we use normal foils, épées or sabres. These two are kept in the bank's vault and only come out for the general meeting,” Goran explained to him, noticing how pale the boy was now.
“I've heard stories about this sword,” Guntram said with a raspy voice as he could not remove his eyes from the Christ in the handle. “It's exactly as it was described.”
“Russians have a vivid imagination and don't forget that Malchenko, Repin's cousin, is a member too.
Perhaps he will be here tomorrow. Stay away from him. We tolerate his presence because he's a good liaison officer,”
Goran said very seriously and almost saluted the tall man standing at the room entrance.
“My Duke.”
“Thank you for bringing it, Goran.” Konrad said and caressed reverently the handle of his sword. “I don't think it will be necessary to put them on display. Keep them in the back room. Sometimes I think it's a crime to use them here. They deserve much better.”
“It's what we have, my Griffin,” Goran commented dejectedly. “Everything changes and not for good.”
“Indeed. Hello, Guntram. You look pale. Are you feeling all right?”
“Yes, Sire,” the boy whispered still looking at the sword he had so many stories about. The blasted thing looked very well sharpened and heavy enough as to behead a person.
“Come with me, Guntram. I want to introduce you to the Fürst zu Löwenstein.” Konrad broke the sword's spell, steering the boy out of the large room.
“Should I not change my clothes? I just came from the atelier,” he asked, glad to be out of the suffocating room.
“It's all right. Nothing formal. It's an old friend of mine and adviser. My cousin Albert is with him too,”
Konrad said pulling his ward from the elbow and increasing his long strides toward the living room.
Two men were sitting in front of the fire. One tall man, around his mid forties, dark-haired with deep blue eyes, slightly round, with the aquiline nose of the Lintorff's was sitting next to a very old and frail looking, supporting in his cane man. The older man inspected Guntram from head to toes as he seemed to hesitate when Konrad advanced toward them.
“Mein Fürst, may I introduce Guntram de Lisle Guttenberg Sachsen, Vicomte de Marignac to you?”
Guntram was surprised to hear Konrad using his full name and title. Normally he was introduced as “De Lisle” or “Guntram, my ward.” He bowed his head toward the man and only whispered “Mein Fürst.”
“My cousin, Albert von Lintorff. He oversees the Italian branch of our companies.”
“How do you do, sir?” Guntram said and shook the offered hand.
“Come over here, child. Let me see you better.” The old man ordered and Guntram obeyed. “It is a pity your poor health prevented us from meeting each other before. Sit down.” He pointed to a chair next to him where he could observe the boy much better. Although the old man could feel the young man's nervousness, he was doing his best to keep his pose and you could certainly see that he was of noble birth.
“Thank you, mein Fürst.”
“You don't look very much like your father; you must have taken your features from your mother or from the Guttenberg Sachsen. Pater Bruno has spoken to me about you and also my cousin Claire von Ribbentrop. She says that you work hard despite your heart condition.”
“I do everything in my power to be useful.”
“That is laudable, child. The month you have spent at our side has proved that you are worthy of being one of us.”
“Guntram is an artist. He has no interest to participate in our activities, mein Fürst,” Konrad said quickly.
“Indeed. He is very young, my friend.”
“He is twenty-one years old. I was twenty-two when I was invested Hochmeister.”
“And you nearly gave me my first syncope during your first year as Griffin. Your poor uncle Hermann never had so many emotions in his whole life. It was a financial roller coaster what we went through,” the prince chuckled, visibly entertained at the memory.
“Thanks to your advice we have managed satisfactorily for the past twenty-four years.”
“Do you give me your word to assure the succession then?” Löwenstein's blue eyes pierced Konrad's.
“In a year, if I'm pleased with the course of events. His role is of a personal nature, nothing else, no power granted to him,” Konrad worded his answer carefully.
“In that case, although I am not entirely satisfied with your decision, I will not oppose you. This is too modern for my taste, but we have to adapt to the times if the outcome is good. In a year, if I am pleased with his performance, I will support his candidacy, but the succession line will not be further altered, is that clear Griffin?”
“Of course, it remains as it is unless we have a new development.”
“Cousin, you have my vote too. He's from good breeding and his father was on our side.” Albert von Lintorff dispassionately announced.
“Tell me young man, have you ever exhibited something?” the old man asked Guntram, still totally lost in the conversation obviously revolving around him.
“One exhibition in London, several months ago. Mr. Clive Robertson is my manager. I'm not sure if he has received some of my work in the past month.”
“Have you resumed your studies?”
“Yes sir. I will take the tests in June.”
“Very well, Ostermann tells me that you still need to gain more confidence in yourself, but you have some “sparks of talent” and work hard. I would like to see some samples of your work. Perhaps after dinner.”
“It will be an honour to show it to you, Sire.”
“Excellent, you may return to your duties, child,” the prince dismissed Guntram. “Konrad, your Tutor's evaluation is also good and that carries a considerable weight in my eyes.”
Guntram stood up and bowed his head to both visitors, after quickly checking with the Duke if he was allowed to leave the room. He was surprised to see a fleeting but warm smile hanging on his lips. He left the room, closing the door quietly.
“Cousin, he's not what I was expecting. He looks like a little, quiet mouse. Usually, you like flamboyant, bordering on scandalous.”
“He's to be my personal companion, not my whore. Understand this Albert.”
“I'm surprised, that's all Konrad. I was betting all my money in this Stefania, but it seems I'm wrong.”
“Do you think I will mix our blood with the blood of a…?”
“Konrad, we all know about your dedication and of your personal sacrifices for the Order,” Löwenstein stopped the probable fight between the cousins. “This is not what we all expected from you, although we know about your preferences since a long time.”
“He's exactly what I like and I will choose an appropriate mother for my children. I can't marry a woman as I don't like or trust them at all: not to the point of sharing my life with one of them. He's intelligent, polite, descendant from an old line, generous to his brothers, respects the Church and honest. All good traits for a Consort.
He gives me peace of mind.”
“Without sex? We have to ask him how he does it. We absolutely need his recipe. I've noticed you're a bit more peaceful lately. Can we not sit him at the Board's meetings?” Albert chuckled while Löwenstein smiled wickedly.
“Do you understand Konrad that he is Repin's lover? The others will be furious with you if you announce that you want to keep him for yourself.”
“He WAS Repin's lover. We all come with a past attached and in these days, only one experience at twenty-one is nothing. He tried to leave him the moment he found out about the wife. We still have time to think about returning him to Repin. Almost a year. I'm only asking your permission to consider him as a suitable Consort. It could not work at all.”
“You have our permission “to court” him, cousin,” Albert mocked Konrad. “Do you need a list of suitable presents, Romeo?”
“Albert, your famous lists will not work with this child,” Löwenstein interfered wearing a tired smile.
“He is truly his father's son. Remember that the man rejected Sybille von Lippe and her eight hundred million Marks, not once but twice. His family nearly disinherited him twice for this. I think he has his grandmother's soulful eyes. A very beautiful lady, breaking every heart back in the thirties. We were standing in line to get a smile from Sigrid Guttenberg Sachsen. Konrad, my boy, if you want to be successful you should better start to help in Pater Bruno's soup kitchen once per week.” The prince laughed as the image of a very uptight Duke serving a homeless flashed through his mind.
“Maybe my cousin will finally learn to cook. If he wants to become a responsible man… cleaning is a lost art for him.”
“Albert, let's do not dwell on your own housekeeping abilities,” Konrad barked, losing his patience. “We have to prepare tomorrow's meeting.”
“Still an old dry bone, Konrad. Poor boy, he will die of boredom next to you.”
Guntram was still shocked after his meeting with the two men. What were those two exactly implying about him? To accept him in the Order? No, that it could not be because he was already a member, much to his dismay. No, “his role was more of a personal nature,” whatever that might mean. 'I hate people talking at my back or deciding for me. I'm not an idiot!'A soft knock on his door made him jump in his desk. “Come in!” he answered dryly still upset. “Ah, it's you Friederich. I'm sorry.”
“Dinner is at 8:30 tonight. The prince has to leave early. His health is not in very good shape.”
“He can still command a lot,” Guntram mumbled making Friederich smile.
“The day he stops commanding, he will be resting in his vault. What did he tell you?”
“It was the most absurd talk I've ever had. He asked me about my studies, but he already knew everything beforehand, told me that I'm very young, that I'm worthy to be in the Order and that they would give their support to the Duke, then, I was sent away. Ah, I'm supposed to show him my work after dinner, but I don't know if he really meant it.”
“Be sure that the Prince means every word he says. Prepare a small portfolio and I will leave it in the living room after dinner. Show them if he asks you again.”
“Who's the Duke's Tutor?”
“That should be me, Guntram,” Friederich answered smiling. “For over forty years. I look after him since he was four years old. Quite a strong-willed child.”
“Thank you for speaking on my behalf. The prince said that your opinion carries a lot of weight in front of his eyes.”
“You're a good and honest person Guntram. I have nothing against you. You had the misfortune of meeting the wrong persons and trusted them. Since you're under my care I've seen nothing that could displease me in your ways or temper. Perhaps you place too much trust in people, but I think this is because of your young age.”
“Thank you, but I can't place the blame entirely on the others. I accepted their lies because I liked them.”
“We all make mistakes but we have the power to rectify them, child. I hope you have learned your lesson.”
“Were you his tutor?”
“Since I was twenty-two years old. The former Duke, Karl Heinz von Lintorff, personally chose me for the position. I came from the Jesuit Seminar and took over the younger brother. Konrad was a very intelligent child, but very shy and insecure. He was an excellent student, very inquisitive and sharp. At seven he could speak German, English and Russian fluently. Karl Heinz was very proud of his son, but he never pampered him and that was very important.”
“You mentioned another brother. Where is he?”
“The eldest brother died in hunting accident when he was twelve. Karl Maria shot himself with his father's weapon. It was very hard for Konrad and the Duke. He adored his older brother and was silent for a full year.
The Duchess divorced the Duke at the end of the year, but Konrad preferred to remain here with his father as his relationship with the former Duchess was never good.”
“I had no idea that it was so bad for him.”
“It was hard but he overcame it with the years. The Consort lost her title and she lives in Paris. Please Guntram, never mention her in front of him. He becomes absolutely enraged at her memory.”
“But she was his mother! I would have killed to meet my own mother!”
“Your mother, not Marianne von Liechtenstein. She never liked Konrad as he overshadowed his brother since he was a small child. She rejected him since his birth and he was the saddest child I ever saw brilliant and doing whatever he could to be better for her. I did my best to support him and show him my care but a mother can't be replaced, Guntram. All this is in the past and should remain there.”
“Why did you call her Consort?”
“That's an honorary title for our Order. Our founder, Theodobald von Lintorff decided that a person, man or woman, would be named Consort; a companion to the Hochmeister. He or she would get the right to vote in the council and his opposition could nullify a decision made by the Hochmeister. The idea was that in case the heir to the Lintorff House would be a woman, her husband could represent her in the Council as women were not accepted. This is why the Consort has to be approved by the Council. The Hochmeister, should he take a male Consort, could have a wife too, but the Consort was always responsible for raising the next generation of Griffins. Sometimes a Hochmeister would take a male Consort, just because he considered that this man could be a good councillor or Tutor or because he needed one extra vote to support his rule. Having a male Consort also helped in the case of the Hochmeister's premature death if his heir would be too young to rule. In that case, the Consort and the Council would have to make the decisions together.”
“I don't understand, you were the Duke's Tutor…”
“Yes, but I was never appointed by the Council or wanted to be. I was happy to serve in a less notorious way. Many of the older members still regard me as a member. I'm not from noble birth nor come from a line. I wanted to serve God in the Church, but the Lord had other ideas and my superiors sent me to Karl Heinz, the former Duke.
My family had been serving the Order only for two generations. Karl Heinz understood my reasons. After he passed away, the new Duke asked me to stay as his estates manager and that's already quite a headache. The Duke can also be very demanding and childish sometimes,” Friederich said, while Guntram pondered if he should ask if the man had been something more than a tutor. Was he not on a first name basis with the former Duke? Better not, it was none of his business and Konrad seemed to be very attached to his tutor.
“Ready your things Guntram, I'll take care of them. It's semi formal tonight,” Friederich finished.
“Why do you still look after Konrad?”
“Old habits die hard. I cleaned his nose countless times: once more will not kill me. Besides, that's what his father would have wanted,” Friederich answered softly before closing the door.
Guntram sighed while he searched through his papers for something that could be worthy showing and wasn't related to Chinese Greeting Cats. 'That sounds like those two had something more than a professional relationship and Konrad knows and accepts it. Well, his greatest love was another man. I wonder what could have happened so they broke up. Konrad seems to be a pretty decent fellow. My first impression about him was very wrong.'
Guntram de Lisle's Diary.Good Friday, April 9th 2004
The Mass was in the morning at 10 o'clock sharp. No doubt they're Germans. Already at 7 a.m. the house was a pandemonium, full with hired servants, more bodyguards than for an international Presidential Summit, a tense Goran checking everything, the famous sword nowhere to be seen, a very serious Konrad dressed in a mourning suit with his cousin, Albert von Lintorff sitting at his right during breakfast doing his best to cheer him up and I, feeling like a lone pea in a huge pot, unaware of where I should sit.
From nine onwards the house started to shrink. So many tycoons, members, together are too much for anyone. I escaped to the kitchen and Jean Jacques gave me a cookie—I didn't ask for it!—and kicked me out. I had to return to the living room and in the corridor a man stopped me and I felt very nervous because he had a strong grip on my arm.
“So, are you de Lisle?”
“Yes, I am.”
“You're going to get us all in a lot of troubles with that crazy Russian. Why don't you disappear and make us all a favour?”
When I was going to tell the asshole that being here was not my idea, Konrad appeared out of the blue and barked: “Fortingeray, remove your hands from the boy!”
“Griffin, we should return him to Russia. Keeping him here is dangerous for us. If the Russians kill him, it's their problem, not ours.”
“Fortingeray, your opinion is duly noticed, but rules are rules. He's one of us and from a much older line than yours. We will discuss all this at the meeting. Guntram, go with my cousin.” I swear he fulminated the man with his look.
I looked for Albert von Lintorff and he was speaking with several men more and I remained in a corner.
“Guntram, sit with me, child,” the prince zu Löwenstein asked me from the sofa he was sitting with another old man, in his 70's. “Come here, we don't bite any longer.” he told me again and cracked a smile. “Rasim Mladic Pavicevic, this is Guntram de Lisle.”
“How do you do?” I said thinking that perhaps this one was related to Goran.
“You look very much like your uncle Roger. Goran has spoken with me about you.”
“I couldn't tell, sir. I never met my uncles or any other member of my family.”
“Good for you. According to my nephew, you're nothing like them. He tells that you're like our Pavel; an artist too.”
“Guntram paints well and has no interest in our projects, Mladic. He will remain as an outsider.”
“In that case, I have no buts if this is what the Griffin wants. That Russian will get over it,” the Serb replied and both men forgot I was there, like a good flower vase.
“Ferdinand von Kleist is still against us.”
“He may dissent with us, Gustav, but he will not vote against us. We have already five of eleven votes.”
“Six of eleven votes, Wallenberg will side with the Duke. He's not exactly thrilled but he supports his Griffin. With von Kleist is enough.”
“Goran tells me you will sit with him in the Mass. That's a clear signal for the rest of the associates. It's simply stupid to place the blame of our confrontation with these people on you. The Russians want to come to our land since a long time and any excuse is good to attack us.”
“Excuse me sir, but you're seriously mistaken,” I said, and both looked at me like hungry wolves.
Nothing that could be compared to Stephanov or his friends. “Mr. Repin had nothing to do with whatever might have happened with you. One of his underlings, Morozov attacked him and helped his wife to nearly kill me in an attempt to weaken him. They wanted to take over and used the Duke's wrath to their advantage. Mr. Repin never lied to the Duke on this. Constantin always spoke about him in a mixture of awe, fear and respect. He has no reasons to fight with him. He simply can't afford it. One slap from him and he lost half of his fortune.”
“Could you be mistaken, child?”
“I don't know. It will not be the first time he lied to me,” I admitted very slowly.
“Thank you for being so forthcoming with us, my child. It makes our decisions much easier.”
“Which decisions?”
“About your future. The Griffin has granted you a place beside him, as a part of his family. You should be honoured.”
“I have to return to Russia in one year,” I said, becoming more and more agitated.
“Do you want to return?”
“Mr. Repin expects me to return,” I replied.
“Do you want to go back?” Mladic asked me and I knew that he was a man you couldn't lie to.
“No, I wanted to leave Russia. There's nothing for me in St. Petersburg, but on the other hand, I don't want to cause more troubles between you and him and I will return as agreed. Repin will be furious if the Duke does not fulfil his part of the deal. I only hope that this year apart will make him rethink his affections toward me.”
“You have no feelings for that man?”
“No, nothing at all but I can't have any negative feelings against him; he was always very kind to me and I would be ungrateful if I were to deny it.”
“Guntram, Repin is our concern, not yours. You're just a young boy and an outsider. Go with my nephew and stay with him,” Rasim Mladic ordered me.
Better obey and stay with Goran. At least he doesn't give me the creeps like all of them do!”
“So Rasim, what do you think?”“Gustav, my friend, I'm not happy about this and I think it's a dangerous move from the Griffin, but I will not change my vote. The boy stays. Perhaps, he even makes me a favour too and allows me to finish that pending business with his wretched uncle.”
“Nothing would please me more than to see you finally crushing that snake of Roger. He ruined my niece's life.”
“This boy didn't have it easy either. He lost his father, his fortune, his health and his friends. His father saved us. The material he had hidden in Geneva could have destroyed all of us if it had befallen in the wrong hands.
The minimum we can do is to honour the pact and protect his child.”
“All right, but all this will be addressed in a closed doors meeting of the Council, nothing to discuss now.”
“Of course. We will only report that he's to be readmitted to the Order. If Fortingeray tries to go against us...”
“He will find Goran truly willing to help him find his way once more,” Mladic chuckled. “If this boy can get the snake out of its cave and tames the Duke, I will kiss him.”
“The Griffin has already started to speak about children, with one of those modern methods, but he's considering to settle down and that would be very good for all of us. A year ago it was unthinkable that he would mention the subject.”
During the service I had to sit—and be nice—next to Goran and a man called Michael Dähler, a big German with a contagious smile. Konrad was sitting in the front with the Fürst zu Löwenstein, Goran's uncle and several other very old dinosaurs. On the second line were Ferdinand von Kleist and several others. I tried to focus myself on the service, but many were looking at me with suspicion, hostility and scorn. Guess they all know my resume in advance. This Fortingeray man was very sure about who was my former boyfriend. I still don't understand why he was telling me to beat it. As if I would have a chance!“Guntram this is Heindrik Holgersen Wallenberg. He will take Antonov's place for the time being.”
Goran announced me, showing me a Viking standing in front of me. How can you be so tall? What do they feed them there? Can you find a bed of your size? I could tell he wasn't happy with his new baby sitting job; we share the feeling (and misery).
We drove to Zurich, to a nice hotel, The Eden. I was supposed to have lunch with Elisabetta von Lintorff, Albert von Lintorff's mother and “the queen bee,” according to Holgersen, “be quiet and let her do the talking.” I had to carry once more my portfolio for her and one of her girlfriends, Marie Sophie Olszytn, “a very rich widow and art collector, also be nice, let her do the talking.”
“Do I have a say in all this?”
“No, be quiet.”
“Do you stay with me?”
“No way. I know it's Good Friday, but I prefer to penance differently.”
The ladies were already waiting for me at the restaurant and I felt very sick to see so many people around. I had to take several deep breaths before entering, thanks to a strong push in the back from Heindrik and a
“don't be a sissy!” whispered in my ear.
Albert's mother looked exactly like a queen, very elegant and aristocratic but not arrogant. I believe she was in her seventies but you couldn't give her more than sixty. She had dark hair, like her son and very blue eyes. The other was a replica but in blonde with brown eyes and wearing several thousand Euros worth in jewels, but very discreet all of them.
“Hello dear, I'm Elisabetta, Konrad's aunt and this is my very good friend Tita Olszytn. I understand that you're Konrad's ward.” She said with a kind smile but with an x-ray eye.
“I'm pleased to meet you both.”
“Sit down, dear; Ostermann has spoken about you a lot. He tells me I should take a look at your material before he charges me the full price.” The other one told me laughing.
At first it was awkward for me but I relaxed as they both were very kind and not aggressive at all. After lunch we went to Elisabetta's suite and they looked at my drawings, asking me who was my manager.
“I believe that Mr. Robertson in London still has me among his clients.”
“I'll tell my secretary to contact him. I'm interested in several of your things. Those birds are delicious,”
Elisabetta said.
“Take them if you like them. I'll see if I can get some silk paper to wrap them.”
“You can't give them to me! Those are good enough as to sell!” She said shocked.
“I would be glad if you take them, please.”
“Guntram, my dear,” interfered Tita, “Ostermann already vouches for your work and that's already like an investment for us. You should keep your work or send it to your manager. He will know what to do.”
“I'm not selling much at the moment.”
“Ostermann told us that you had one exhibition in London some time ago and you sold everything.
Angelika Volcker's son bought two of your pieces and he wants to have you at his gallery in Berlin,” Tita told me shocked. Who's Volcker?
“I was not considering to make another one any time soon,” I whispered, feeling very sick.
“Well you should, if you don't want Rudolf Ostermann stealing your things and making it by himself.”
“I'm only painting a cat in the meantime. A Chinese cat,” I said sourly.
“Yes, I know, I bought the “Cats at the Praxeum.” Very funny. My daughter-in-law is in love of it and she took it for her flat in New York,” Tita told me somewhat sounding shocked.
I was presented with a dilemma. A hideous thing like the Athenian-Chinese cats, a total waste of oils and canvas (but very good for venting all the frustration, resentment and murdering rage I was feeling against Ostermann for forcing me to paint the thing) was sold to a nice lady.
“Madam, Tita, please take those landscapes you liked so much. I esteem them much more than the cats. I still have nightmares about them.”
“In that case, but they're incredibly funny.”
“Elisabetta, I will be honoured if you accept those birds, they're from around here and you can appreciate them better than I.”
Finally they took the drawings and it's a good thing because if it were my decision they'd be in the garbage.
I had tea with them and when I was wondering when I should disappear, because they were very happy chatting about many things and asking me about my studies and my work in the Antiques Shop, Heindrik Holgersen showed up and told me that we would drive home in two hours.
Ferdinand von Kleist's DiaryApril 9th 2004
I want to kill Konrad. Nothing new. I want to kill Konrad, Goran, Michael the idiotic clown, Gustav zu Löwenstein, Alrik Wallenberg, Rasim Mladic Pavicevic, Albert von Lintorff, Jean Louis St. Pérault and myself.
Fortingeray, Hülsroj and Van Thimen are furious with us and with reason. Konrad not only opposed their more than logical reserves against this boy but he had to give them a slap in the face IN FRONT of the whole brotherhood.
Everything went fine; people accepted our losses after Repin's mess because we could counteract them with Gasrom and some other moves. The final number was not as brilliant as we wanted but you can't complain if you get a twenty-three percent return in one year. But there, he had to screw it up. Michael Dähler, our newly appointed secretary, spoke with his dodo voice: “As the last point in our agenda I would like to submit to the Council's voting the candidacy of Guntram Philippe Alphonse de Lisle Guttenberg Sachsen, Vicomte de Marignac. His Highness the Prince Gustav zu Löwenstein and the Baron Albert von Lintorff support his plea.”
It was a cold, no better freezing water bucket poured over my head. When had Konrad got their votes? I was speechless and I tried to keep a straight face.
“I oppose,” Fortingeray said and several agreed with him. No more than fifteen, I guess.
“May I know your reasons?” Mladic Pavicevic croaked from his corner. The old man might be retired, but I wouldn't like to be alone with him in a room.
“Were the de Lisle not part of that traitorous uprising against our Hochmeister in 1989? Were they not banished from our Order?”
“Yes, the main line was erased from our records. Nevertheless, his father, Jerôme de Lisle Guttenberg Sachsen was the one who put us in the track to find the real culprits. He offered his own life to atone for his sins against us in exchange for a full pardon for his son. I accepted it and took the child as my ward as it was informed to this Honourable Council in 1990,” Konrad said. “I understand Fortingeray that you were no part of this body at the time, so you have no recollection of this.”
“Jerôme de Lisle hid the most sensitive documents that were in the hands of the traitors in Geneva. Had it no been for him, we would not be speaking today, gentlemen,” Mladic supported Konrad.
“I support this young man, Fortingeray,” Löwenstein added.
“We heard the rumour that this person is the lover of Constantin Repin. Do you want to let our greatest enemy's bed warmer in the midst of our entourage?” Hulsroj asked shocked.
“He was in a relationship with Constantin Ivanovich Repin, but he was not aware of the nature of his business or knew about the Order. He lived all his life away from us. This relationship is over since eight months ago and he does not wish to return to Russia,” Konrad explained.
“I will not risk my assets because a nameless brat does not want to go back to his sugar daddy!”
Fortingeray roared. “Your last fight with that Russian costed us more than four billion directly plus the loss of many of our contacts and business within the Russian Federation. I don't care if he does not want! Put him on the first plane back!”
“Are you giving me an order?” Konrad growled and we all felt our hearts stop.
“I'm only expressing my concern. He can't be one of us. What do we get out of all this? Nothing. Can he even pay the dowry? Does he have five million euros?”
When Konrad was going to open his mouth, Goran spoke for the first time in seven hours, “I'll cover those expenses, Fortingeray. The Summus Marescalus and the Hochmeister back him up. I have personally checked Guntram de Lisle and he has been always forthcoming to us. He has no links with the Russian Mafia. We are the ones who evaluate the military aspects of the game, not you and I resent your lack of trust to our abilities.”
That was scarier than any tantrum Konrad could have thrown.
“My people answer for him,” Mladic spoke.
“We are indebted to his father. He saved us because he believed in our ideals and shared his own line's fate. A true knight,” the old Wallenberg finished. “I trust my brothers and my Griffin's judgement.” I better keep my opinion to myself. Jerôme hated us and if he, and I have no doubts, put us in the track of the traitors it was because he had a hidden agenda we haven't discovered yet. I'm sure he wanted us to kill each other in a full scaled war.
Guntram got forty-eight votes in favour and twenty-three against. He's in, but he will not participate in our meetings nor hold any “executive position.” That's what gives me the creeps. I checked our Code and the bloody Consort is not an “executive position,” unless the Hochmeister grants him/her such prerogative. I have nothing against the boy; he's nice in fact. Quiet, polite and shy. Friederich likes him a lot and protects him too. Antonov told me that he lives in another galaxy and only cares about painting. He never mentions Repin or his past life. He studies hard and never tried to escape or contact him and he's sure the boy saw one of the Russian's hounds lurking around whenever he goes to that painting studio. Guntram simply ignored the man.
I'm concerned about Konrad. Does he want to repeat Roger's story? Does he want to take revenge on the boy? Guntram is nothing like Roger; he's a frightened kitten when the other was a panther—exactly what Konrad likes, hard, unforgiving and dangerous. Even that bitch he favours so much, Stefania di Barberini, is a bloody cobra.
He likes to bed an opponent not a lover. According to him, “sex is like a good fight, the better the opponent, the better the outcome.”
I'm bewildered.
Guntram can't play in bed per his doctor's orders and even if he were able to do a thing there, I bet he would be “a little lamb or a kitten,” exactly as Konrad described. He's good looking, no doubt, but he's not the super adventure guy. One relationship in twenty-one years and with Repin! He was not even looking at other people.
Oblomov told me that Repin had nearly to shake him so he would notice he was standing there. He was a virgin when he went to bed with the man!
I don't know what he's after this time. Konrad has already spoken with all the Council members about taking the boy as Consort and having his children by artificial insemination. I remember Jerôme told us that night something like “you need someone to gently counterbalance your domineering ways. Guntram has his mother's peaceful temper and a lot of patience. He's unable to hurt a fly.” All true.
Could it be that Konrad finally got his middle age crisis? Could it be that he really wants “something fixed at home”? Guntram would certainly be easy to keep happy and obedient. One pat to the head and he does whatever you want. Repin's world truly broke him.
On Tuesday Konrad will hear me. I don't want that he abuses that poor lad.
Unable to sleep, Guntram tossed in bed. Sleep was elusive and the only way to achieve it was to read something. He took his robe and went to the library to look for a book as his school reading material was unappealing.
He went the stairs down in darkness, glad that all the people had vanished at 11 p.m. and he could finally go to bed in peace. The library door was half open and he entered quiet as a mouse, going directly for the Art Section where was that book about Meissen Porcelain he had seen a few days ago. He opened the crystal door and removed it from the shelf.
“Should you not be in bed? It's 1 a.m., boy,” Konrad's deep voice scared him. Guntram looked toward the desk but the man wasn't there. “On the couch, boy. Come over here. There's a draft where you're standing.”
Guntram walked toward the big couch placed in front of the half extinguished fire, only some hot coals warming the nearby zone. He noticed that the Duke was still dressed from the morning and had a cognac glass in his hand and the bottle on the side table.
“I didn't mean to intrude Konrad. I just came for a book. I couldn't sleep,” he quickly excused himself.
“What do you have there?” The man asked and pried the book from the boy's hand not waiting for an answer. “”Meissen and Diplomacy.” Interesting subject. We got many presents thanks to this tradition. Our famous Golden Lion Service—kept under seven locks by Friederich—was part of Princess Maria Walescka's dowry in 1765 if I remember correctly. She was an illegitimate child from Augustus den Starken, one of many, but he was gracious enough as to pay for her dowry. Perhaps, Friederich will show it to you one day. He defends it with his life. It was never used or displayed,” he spoke amiably. “Sit with me. I also can't sleep.”
“You look very tired from the meetings.”
“Do you know the German expression “Hundemüde;” “dog tired”? I feel exactly like that.”
“Must be hard to keep all those important people happy.”
“That's a very diplomatic way to express it. Try “to keep the sharks happy in their pond” and you will be closer to the truth.” Konrad smiled tiredly, his eyes softening for the first time. “It's every year the same but with a different topic each time we meet. I hate this voting.”
“Voting?”
“I'm elected as Hochmeister for a year only. I need more than 2/3 of the votes to keep my job. I only control thirty-four percent of the votes. I have to campaign hard to get the rest.”
“Constantin told me that your position is inherited,” Guntram asked perplexed.
“It's but only for the first year. If I prove to be an incompetent, the members can throw me out and the Council rules for a full year till they choose a successor and this one has only one year to prove that he's worthy of the title. My line came to power after 1878, when my cousin's Gertrud ancestor lost his position. He was acting as surrogate Griffin as my great grandfather was too young to take over because the previous Griffin, from Albert's line, had named him but died when he was ten years old. The surrogate Griffin only had daughters at the time and a woman was not allowed to be our leader. He tried to force the succession to one of his daughters and his son-in-law by trying to murder my great grandfather. The plot was discovered and he was deposed. His younger brother tried to recover the power but the Council decided to rule till my grandfather turned eighteen. Gertrud and Georg, her brother, are still sore about it. She's upset with me because I preferred Albert's son as my successor instead of her children. Ferdinand understands my decision and I think he's glad that Karl Otto will not get it. When I'm out, the power should return to the original line, the one who invested us.”
“I didn't know it.”
“It helps to keep the tensions down and reinforce my power during the year. We chose this day as it's the Death of our Lord and it could mean the end of a time for us. Don't look at me; complain to Theodobald von Lintorff for his poor choices.” Konrad chuckled finding terribly amusing the shocked expression in Guntram's face.
“Every year? Would it not better to make it every four years, like most Presidents do?”
“I get a lifetime job which most Presidents don't, unless you're Fidel Castro,” he chortled. “Perhaps I should give you a seat on the Council,” he pondered half seriously.
“I would be fired in less than two minutes. I'm no part of their game. I have nothing that could be valuable to them.”
“You have been readmitted as a member, Guntram, but you get no voting rights or executive positions for the moment. It's the best I can do for you. Maybe in the future, you will be more freely accepted.”
“I thought I was a member! You told me this in St. Petersburg!”
“You were a member, but your line was expelled. With his actions your father won for you the right to be readmitted. Don't waste the many sacrifices he made for you, Guntram.”
“I don't want to be a part of this!”
“You're my ward and a member now. You're virtually untouchable for Repin. Any of us has to shelter you in case of troubles and you have to do the same for your brothers. Betray us and the punishment will be exemplary. If you want to stay with us after one year, you can do it, and Repin has to accept it or fight with us as a whole.”
“Why did you do it?”
“Because I promised your father to look after you, and I don't want that you go back to him. As I told you, you remind me of someone I loved very much and I don't want to repeat the same mistakes with you. You blend perfectly with our lifestyle and beliefs and I dare say that you like it. I don't plan that you're part of our business and I don't think you could ever be one of us. You're an artist, an idealist and a selfless person. You can live by my side, giving me your companionship and friendship. That's all I ask from you. Finish your schooling, work hard to get a career and a name.”
“Konrad, I don't know what to say…”
“Say nothing at all. Do you like to be here with me?”
“Yes, very much,” Guntram blurted out and blushed under the man's piercing look.
“I see that you have made a huge progress since you're here. I'm proud of your achievements and I like to have you around, when you're not pouting or depressing up to the stones. Even if nobody believes it, I live in the deepest loneliness and I would like to have someone I could trust in, someone who will not use me or my power and someone generous, honest and kind hearted that would support me when everything is too much for me. I carry a heavy weight on my shoulders and it's suffocating for me.”
“Yours is position I would have never taken,” Guntram whispered.
“I know and I like you for that,” Konrad pressed.
“Although I harshly judged you and you're not the person I thought you were, I don't think I can do what you want. We could never be friends because of our history and because I consider myself Constantin's friend. I don't love him any more but I will not betray him for you. You're his enemy.”
“We are speaking of different things here. I'm not asking you to tell me about Repin's activities. I suffice myself to gather that intelligence. How can you betray a man that you don't love any more? Didn't you tell him?”
“Countless times, but he didn't listen to me. He said I was in shock and only willing to run to where I felt comfortable.”
“Where is the betrayal then?”
“He's still in love with me and he has risked his position for me.”
“Risked his position for you? How?”
“His marriage; his wife wants to get rid of him now. If she uses what you have given her and goes to the authorities, Constantin will go to jail and lose his children. He loves them very much. I've seen him with them and he's a very good and tender father.”
“Guntram, we exchanged information. She came to me the same day you were nearly killed because she needed my protection to survive Repin's wrath. I wasn't aware of the facts or that she had laid a hand on one of us, but I didn't want to save her either. I imagine that her gamble was to kill you and escape while her accomplices attacked Repin. She thought that I was so furious with Repin because of Morozov's actions against me that I would protect her, but I didn't break the agreement I had with him.”
“Constantin never wanted to go against you. He's afraid of you! Can you not understand it? This man wanted to cause a war between you and him!”
“That's what your death's was for. So they could place the blame on me because of my representative's death in Georgia. They tortured you so it would look like a punishment from us. It wasn't that she hated you so much that she needed to vent her rage. For some reason, it went wrong and she had to give me something in exchange for my help. What she offered me was interesting and as I didn't want to lose it, I offered her some information about his accounts in Luxembourg and his creative tax declarations.”
“Constantin is an honourable man. He never went against you! There are so many stories about your brutality that no one would be as crazy as to clash with you!”
“People are more lunatic than you think Guntram and I have to prove them wrong. You're mistaken if you think this is not his fault. Morozov was under him and he should have controlled him better. No, he let this man advance against me to check if I could be defeated. He was testing my defences and paid a price for it. I don't take betrayal lightly.”
“Massaiev told me that you're a bloodthirsty monster, that once you're unleashed nothing stops you. My whole family was murdered. Those people in Chechnya were murdered because of you. He says you have killed with your own hands.”
“I only passed the information to the Russian Authorities. They decided to raid the village, a village harbouring terrorists and gangsters. As for your family, don't be unfair to me because you perfectly know that I was in a hospital because of a shooting organized by your own grandfather. Goran's father died saving my life. I'm merciless, that is true but I'm not bloodthirsty. I do what I have to do and use violence as the last resource, something that Repin can't say. My punishments are legendary because I want to set a good example so this is never repeated. It works most of the times and we are feared and respected.”
“You beheaded three men; with your own hands. You have a sword,” Guntram whispered.
“Who told you this? It's ridiculous!” Konrad protested, almost laughing.
“Did you?”
“Never! Do you think I carry an axe around, beheading enemies?” Konrad laughed. 'Down from five to three, the Russians are losing their respect for me. Time to show them something more.'
“Is it not true?”
“Sure it is. Did they also tell you that I nailed the heads on pikes and put them at the entrance? Very classical. Next time, I'll try impalement as I'm dealing with Russians,” he chortled.
“No,” Guntram whispered feeling very stupid for believing such a crazy story.
“Have they not told you about the time I hanged five men from their feet and let them there till they died? Took quite some time and finally the men gutted them alive to end the screaming.”
“No.”
“Russians must be losing their imagination. They used to tell better stories about me. Eating so much fast food can't be good for their brains,” Konrad smirked. “Now, you won't be able to sleep at all,” he laughed. “Let's go to bed, Guntram. Tomorrow we have to endure my cousin for the day. In the afternoon, his wife and children will arrive for the Easter Sunday Lunch with the employees from the bank.”
“Excuse me for believing these slanders, Konrad,” Guntram said very ashamed and offered his hand.
“It's all right. It's good to be feared when your opponent is a 6 feet long ugly black bear. I wouldn't like to be loved by one of them.” He laughed as he quickly took the small hand between his two much larger hands.
“Friends?”
“Friends.”
Guntram de Lisle's DiaryEaster Sunday
I'm dead on my feet. The party started early in the morning with a Mass at 11—big surprise—lunch in the courtyard as it was sunny for 200 people (employees and their families about fifty children running around) and some noble members from the Lintorff family. I was hoping to escape during the Mass but Konrad caught me the minute I was scurrying myself toward the background and forced me to sit next to him, near Carolina von Lintorff, Albert's wife and a very kind and elegant Italian woman. Elisabetta smiled at me and patted me on the shoulder as she sat next to her son, doing his best to keep his two youngest children quiet; they're nine and eleven. Across the nave, I saw Ferdinand von Kleist and his wife, Gertrud and his three children, Karl Otto, Johannes and Marie Amélie a really good looking blonde girl. I'm not surprised that Albert's eldest son, Armin, follows her like a puppy. Goran was also there and he briefly smiled me from the distance. He was again with the funny German, Michael Dähler.
After the service the children started to run like crazy all over the garden as the people were looking for their assigned places at the tables. The young ones got a special area with people to look after them, toy's and brown rabbits. Strangely, Konrad was nice to the many who came to greet him. I saw him standing with Ferdinand and Albert, greeting most of the people after the Mass. I thought that it could be a good moment to escape but Goran caught me and started to speak about the weather and that he had seen some of my pieces in London at Robertson's before the exhibition ended two weeks ago.
“Are you able to chit chat? Goran, I'm shocked,” Michael interrupted us, almost laughing.
“Are you able to be quiet?” He growled back but the other was not impressed at all.
“No, only Monika van der Leyden has the ability to shut me up. You lack her charm. Monika is that tall brunette standing over there, next to Cecilia Riganti. She's the Duke's secretary and our worst nightmare when we screw up something or don't clean the shoes before entering the bank.” He explained to me, showing me a very aristocratic woman with a stare that could freeze the sun.
“She looks impressive,” I mumbled.
“Hey, I saw her first. Besides, you're not her type. She likes them tall, intelligent, good looking, with a doctor's degree, rich and funny.”
“Exactly like Albert von Lintorff, Guntram,” Goran clarified for me.
“Drop dead!” Michael shouted at him.
“You have just described him. Monika would never waste her time with a man like you Michael. She's a woman of taste.”
“I prefer you mute.”
“I also.”
“Goran, do you know when Alexei Antonov would be back?” I decided to switch the topic because the last part wasn't sounding like playing any longer.
“Holgersen has been nasty to you?”
“No, no. He's fine. A bit bossy but he's polite. I was only wondering about him.”
“Holgersen will stay with you for a month and then, we will see. He's good, unless you prefer some of my own team's men. I thought you would prefer someone younger, more of your age.”
“He's all right, Goran. I think I should go now.”
“Why? You will sit at the Duke's table, next to Carolina von Lintorff and Armin, the Strolch,” Michael told me. “It's a good place to be. I have to suffer Ferdinand and his uptight wife just to be near Monika.”
“Ten to one she will mop the floor with you, my friend,” Goran said very seriously.
“We'll see. Make it twenty to one if you're so sure.”
“Done.”
Lunch was very good and Jean Jacques is an incredible cook. He wasn't bragging about his titles and stars. I've never eaten so well since I'm here and I'm going to miss him a lot when I'm gone. Carolina didn't pay much attention to me as she was busy speaking with Konrad and the Head of Foreign Investments. Armin, on the other hand was a funny guy, expansive as his father but with the air of superiority of someone who knows that he has been born in the midst of real money.
“We are going to be room mates very soon,” Armin told me during the second dish.
“Excuse me?”
“The Duke wants that I move with him from September onwards. I'll be going to the University of Zurich to study Economics and work at the bank. It's boot camp time for me. Too many parties for his taste and he wants ‘to straighten me out.’”
“That sounds bad for you,” I sympathized with him.
“How's for you? Is he too stern? When is curfew time?”
“It's not that bad. He always has people around for diner, well two or three times per week and I'm excused after eating. On normal days, we dine at eight and stay in the library till eleven, he working or reading and I painting or studying. You'll eat very well here. The cook is great.”
“When do you go out?”
“I don't. I have a heart condition and the doctor forbade me to be under stress. I stay at home studying for my finals in June or go to a teacher's study to paint. I'm mostly busy with my drawings. I have to start to work again because my bank account is starving.”
“You don't get an allowance?”
“No, why would I get one?” I was shocked. “I'm glad for his support and hospitality.”
“Don't you go out? Discos, bars, cinemas? Do you know anyone?”
“Only CEO's or bodyguards. No one else. I help Pater Bruno on Saturdays. As I said, I can't run around much,” I said, hoping that he would drop the subject as I didn't want to give him a long lecture about former jealous mobster lovers, German secret societies' knights, high finance and loans. Obviously, the guy knew nothing about me and that was fine for me.
“Well, time to shake this house a bit,” Armin shrugged. Sure, when your “uncle” is fighting in the early morning with his sword, knives or hand style with the other boys. And they can hurt each other a lot. Nothing comparable to what I've seen at Constantin's.
“The Duke dislikes any interruptions to his normal schedule, Armin.”
“Lord, this sounds like a real punishment for me. Do you know that I will have to cope with Dr. Dähler too?”
“He's quite funny.”
“Funny? He's a bloody Navy captain with an elephant's sense of humour. Everybody knows he has a short temper. He fired a whole traders team for not understanding his orders and my uncle supported his decision.
He's the one who plans all the strategy. Not even Marie Amélie is worth of this. Does she come here much?”
“This is the first time I see her,” I replied and he groaned. It seems that uncle Konrad is not the younger generation's favourite. Armin really looked gloomy.
After lunch, there was a sort of commotion as all the children ran in stampede back to the garden for the big Egg Hunt. I believe the flowers will have to be replaced on Monday. I saw many rabbits also running free, chased by children. I tried to stay in a corner watching everything as I knew no one and so much people were making me very nervous.
“There you are. I got you a customer.” Konrad found me and I was surprised that he was holding a young girl, looking very sad in his arms. “Meet Gretel Morgenthau, she couldn't catch a rabbit and they're all already taken. Could you draw one for her?”
“Yes, of course,” I said and he placed the blonde girl next to me. “I need some paper and pencils.”
“Ask the entertainers. They're well provided and perhaps you get some more clients. She doesn't speak English. Good luck,” he told me and vanished while I was holding the hand of a small five or six year old, hoping that I would get her a rabbit.
I sat at one of the tables and started to draw for her with pencils. She was very happy with what she was getting and I told her to colour it with the crayons. Two minutes later, when she was busy with her own paper, another boy came and asked for a lion, roaring so I would understand what he wanted to tell me in German. In a way, those children reminded me of the ones I was looking after in Buenos Aires. They could be wearing clothes worth several hundred Francs but they were reacting exactly as the ones from the slum. They all were looking in awe at the pencil and seriously colouring the sketch once they got it. One of the babysitters took pity on me and translated all what they wanted. I was so happy to be with them that for a moment I forgot where I was, enjoying their laughter. I just find adorable how seriously they take things when they have a task like colouring and how important is for them something so simple for us.
I think some of the grown ups also approached the table to check that we weren't planning a massive bombing or something like that. Quiet children are always suspicious.
“Konrad,” I heard Gertrud's voice loud and clearly saying in English, “do you think it is a good idea to let this person near the children? After all, his reputation precedes him and extends from Russia.”
The blood froze in my veins and a deafening silence—all conversations dead— numbed my ears. I started to stand up to leave the table when Konrad's hand on my shoulder forcibly sat me back in my place. I don't know when he had stood there. He barked something in German to Ferdinand and she turned red with fury. I gulped and looked around trying to understand the meaning of his words through the people's faces. I saw a look of pure hatred in Elisabetta's eyes directed at her niece, not at me.
“Gertrud, your reputation also precedes you but I trust my true friends good breeding to overlook it.”
Konrad translated for me and I wanted to die right there because the last I wanted was a fight because of me. I think Elisabetta realised my awkward moment because she said very clearly, “Guntram, my youngest granddaughter wants a “rondine” but I don't know the word in English.”
“A nightingale,” I whispered
“Yes, that's right. A nightingale and a duck for her friend, Claudia zu Löwenstein too. Small children are insatiable. I'm afraid they won't let you alone till tea time.” Fortunately, all talks resumed and I saw Ferdinand taking his wife apart. I tried to distract myself with the drawings and true to her word, I couldn't leave the table till the children were called for their tea.
I hoped to escape this time, but Friederich caught me at the stairs. He's also a good hunter. “The Duke asks that you rejoin him in the living room. You're very pale, have some hot tea and stay by the fire,” he told-ordered in his polite, but “move your ass” voice.
In the living room, Konrad was standing like a king in the corner near the fireplace, Michael, Goran, Ferdinand and two other men were with him. I warily approached them because I had a direct order.
“Guntram, this is Adolf zu Löwenstein, Head of Legal Affairs and eldest son of the Fürst and Mr.
Joachim Cohen.” He introduced me and I greeted both men. They continued to speak in German while I drank the cup of tea a butler had placed in my hands before I could say a thing. At some point, the man and Goran excused themselves and left our merry group. Armin is going to have a very hard time here.
“Guntram, I would like to excuse my wife for her outburst this afternoon. She never meant anything and she is very ashamed of her words,” Ferdinand said to me and I gaped.
“Please, there's nothing to be excused. A lady is never mistaken,” I answered.
“Thank you,” he said, looking at me very surprised.
“My daughter told my wife she wants a frame for her duck. She has even named it Johannes,” Adolf zu Löwenstein interfered.
“I'm glad it wasn't called Konrad,” Lintorff laughed.
“No, but I think one of the eagles was,” Albert decided to join the party and I had to bite my lips to suffocate the giggles. I have never heard any of the men, not even Ivan Ivanovich or Boris Malchenko make fun of Constantin or that he would take it so sporty because Konrad laughed at his cousin's joke.
“Did you catch the two rabbits that went inside the house?” Ferdinand asked.
“I'm afraid they're still looking for them. We have to get them soon. Tomorrow's lunch depends on it.”
Konrad said jovially. “Three years ago, one of these monsters gnawed the legs of a XVII century weapons cabinet. We could never find the culprit but we found its debris scattered all over the house for weeks,” he explained to me.
“My cousin has a ghost rabbit haunting his house: it's white and black, long ears and there's a bounty for his head,” Albert chortled.
“A substantial reward,” Konrad added very seriously but I noticed a mischievous light dangling from his eyes. “One of the hardest and most cunning adversaries I've ever met.” The absurd of the situation; he, the mighty Hochmeister versus a poor defenceless rabbit, lost the battle, made me laugh full heartedly. When my eyes met again his, they were looking at me very kindly.