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    Mike Arram
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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The Golden Portifor - 21. Chapter 21

Wilchin placed his drum in front of Andreas and Karl and took his seat on it, tucking his sticks into a pocket on his white belt.

‘So,’ said Andreas, ‘where’ve yer been and how on earth did yer end up here?’

‘That’s a bit of a long story,’ came the reply.

‘Oh?’ Karl interjected, ‘and where did yer go with Jonas Niemand?’

Wilchin grinned. ‘That was amazing, and a bit spooky. He said he wanted a real adventure and I was just the boy for it. So next thing I knows, we was swimming up out of the pond – I mean, me, swimming! – but we broke surface in this wonderful place, which wasn’t where we’d jumped in. It was sunny and warm and there was these bright little birds everywhere, singing fit to bust.’

‘Ha! Faërie!’ cried Andreas. ‘He took you there. He must really like you. And did you drink from that stream?’

‘Yeah? I think so. Shouldn’t I?’

Karl nodded. ‘Yes yer should. We have and it’s taken away all our ills.’

‘Now yer mentions it, I’ve been feeling pretty fine since. I’ve stopped having the runs and all the scabs under me hair’s gone. There seems to be a bit more of it these days too. Also I got a couple of teeth back that fell out. So the stream’s magic then?’

‘Obviously.’

‘Anyways, we ran around and played a bit. Them trees there are just made for climbing. In fact we climbed right to the top of the tallest tree we could find and the Lord Elf Jonas showed me his kingdom.’

Andreas shook his head. ‘It’s not his kingdom, and I gets the idea that he’s not really supposed to go there. Not that it stops him.’

‘Hah! That’s Jonas. He’s my sort of kid.’ Wilchin paused and then continued. ‘So, there we was, high up in the swaying branches with nuffink but treetops all around for miles, and fluttering all round us were these butterflies, like jewels with wings. Amazing. So Jonas points out these mountains in the distance upriver. He said he’d taken yer and yer horses there.’

‘Yup,’ Karl said, ‘and it was a really scary place.’

‘I wants to hear about that sometime. But he then pointed downstream, and said that was the place he really wanted to explore, but it was absolutely forbidden. “So,” says I, “When’re we off then?” And he laughed so hard I thought he was going to pee himself.’

‘I wonder if he can pee?’ Andreas mused.

Wilchin ignored him. ‘So the elf, he stood on the branch, and then all of a sudden he had these big dark wings, and he took me under the arms and we flew up into the sky, wiv me clinging on to him wiv me legs and arms, and him grinning in me face. He really does have the nicest breath. Not like yer, Karlo.

‘Anyways, I looks down and I could see we was flying down the stream, and we carried on for miles until the stream turned into a river, and then Jonas fluttered down to land on a sandbank, and his wings just folded away. “Now Conduit Boy,” he says, “what do yer think we need?” “Well, my lord elf” says I, “a boat would be handy.” He nods and says, “What sort of boat?” And I says “I dunno, sorta like the king’s great golden barge I saw on the Starel once.” Then he asks me to think about what it was like, and I did and he turned and looked upriver and fuck me, it was the bloody same barge heading down to us, all stately like and nobody on board.’

‘Hah!’ Karl said, ‘you can make things you think of real there. Looks like Jonas got you to build a boat for him.’

‘Well, it was different from the king’s barge, since it had no crew. But we climbs on board and Jonas told me to take the tiller thing at the back and guide it. So I did and off it went all on its own. We played pirates for a bit and he was the captain, and he got pissed off the barge didn’t have cannon, he said yer two had great fun with one when yer was in Faërie. So we had to shout ‘BANG’ a lot instead. Anyways, somehow we managed to avoid wrecking the boat. After we played, Jonas stood up at the front, on the lookout it seemed to me. I asked him what he was looking for, and he said that there were spirits in that land who weren’t friendly at all, but that they probably weren’t watching the river, as they didn’t like it very much, which was why he didn’t fly all the way. Besides, he said, he was sure “They” would let me through. I was the sort They liked, he said.’

‘Eh? And who were “They” supposed to be?’ Andreas demanded.

‘He never said, though I think I may have met one of Them later. But I’m getting ahead of meself. So we drifted along down the river and eventually hills rose up on both sides and all of a sudden we sailed out on to this big dark lake with mountains all around. And there was islands in the middle, and Jonas told me to steer to the biggest and tallest one of them.

‘So we grounded up on its pebbly beach and Jonas says that he couldn’t land on that island, as only mortals could ... them and some others he mentioned but I can’t remember who they were, except he didn’t seem to like them much. But he thought it would be alright for me, just that I wuz not, not, NOT to drink from any stream I found there. He really pushed that one.

‘Then he told me to climb to the top of the hill and on the top of it he’d heard there was a tower. And it had a meeting place in it that They used when They wanted to talk to mortals. Now, Jonas didn’t know that there’d be anyone there, but from things that’d been happening lately he suspected that there was one of Them who might be willing to talk, though She wouldn’t or couldn’t talk to him, ‘cos he was an elf I suppose.’

‘Ahah! She!’ cried Karl, ‘then I know who it was yer went to meet.’

‘Old biddy with a nice smile dressed like a nun?’ Wilchin suggested.

‘The Lady Fenice. It was Her. I met Her when I was at Tarlenheim with my lord Serge Christmas before last.’

‘So who is She?’

‘Who was She,’ Karl corrected. ‘She lived years and years ago and was a great lady in her day.’

‘Didn’t seem much like a ghost to me. In fact She pinched my cheek and called me a merry little jackanapes – I think that wuz the word. Anyhow, She was waiting in the tower on the hilltop, and seemed to be expecting me. So I perched up crosslegged on this table that was there, and She took a tall chair next to it. ‘Course, I still didn’t have a stitch on, but She never seemed to notice.’

‘So what happened next?’ Andreas insisted.

‘Well, She said to remember to take her greetings to yer two, and specially to you Karlo. She had a message for you which I was to give to yer both. I remembered it word for word: “There will be a day of greatness and glory for all four of you boys, and it is coming hard upon you” – I think she means me and yer two, but even I can count to four, so one’s missing she didn’t name. For the fourth a dark eclipse will follow soon unless first you three lie and so give up your honour, and then tell the truth and embrace dishonour. Mysterious, huh?’

‘Worrying,’ commented Andreas. ‘Did She say anything else?’

‘Some stuff. She wanted to hear what yer’ve been doing wiv the Conduit kids. She was right impressed at Lord Serge. She said he made her proud. And She said there would be a rightful reward for us all eventually. Make any sense to yer, Karlo?’

‘A bit. Lord Serge is one of Her descendants, and She’s a protector of all children. So She approves of what he’s done, I guess. Did She give any messages to Jonas Niemand?’

‘No, though I asked. She laughed so much when I called him the Lord Elf of Strelsau, She had tears in her eyes. Makes me think there’s some other parts of this story we’re not hearing.’

‘You can be sure of that,’ commented Andreas drily. ‘So how did yer get here?’

‘Ah, right. So She kissed me and did a blessing thing, then sent me on my way. So I trotted down the hill and got back on the boat. I told Jonas what She’d said. He frowned for a long time afterwards and said it was unfair to stack all of this on us three, but he wouldn’t say any more other than that he’ll be there for us when the bad times happen, ‘cos he was pretty sure they were about to.

‘So then the boat pulled away from the shore and I piloted it back across the lake to where the river entered. I noticed the river went out of the lake the other side opposite and asked Jonas where it went. He said it would take me where all us mortals will one day go, and not to be in any hurry to get there. So we beached the barge, then we sat chucking pebbles in the lake for a bit, as he thought things out, he said. After ... I don’t know how long he snapped his fingers and said it was time to go and I was to hold his hand. Which I did. Next thing I knows we were both in the middle of the Platz in Strelsau just down from the Conduit, stark bollock naked. And the thing is, nobody seemed able to see us. I went right up to a few of those bastard friars from the Reformatory who were standing gassing, and danced around in front of them giving them the finger, flashing my arsehole and calling them all sorts, the fuckers. No reaction.’

‘What! I hope you didn’t waste the opportunity,’ said Andreas.

‘Did I fuck. There’s scores to pay there. I saw what they did to your bum with their canes, and they’ve done as bad and worse to others who’ve since taken refuge at the Conduit and the Shambles. So I told Jonas this and his eyes got wide and he gave a very queer grin. He ran over to take a couple of leather whips and some ropes from a bunch of drovers nearby. He looked like pure mischief: the kid’s just like me y’know. “So Conduit Boy, let’s start by getting them ready,” he says. So he throws me some rope, then we runs over to the three of them, and as quick as lightning we looped and tied the cords round their wrists. Before the bastards knew it, them friars was being dragged by an invisible elfin force over to them posts. And with them hollering like fuck we tied them to the chains. And then ...’ Wilchin began to laugh and it took a while for him to become coherent again.

He wiped the tears out of his eyes. ‘So there they was tied up like dogs outside a butchers, and Jonas started ripping off their robes till all three were as bare as plucked chickens, their big fat guts hanging over their tiny little dicks. Crowds began to gather, people pointing, laughing and shouting. Then me and Jonas got busy with the whips. Man! The screaming! They pissed and shit themselves as we raised the bloody welts across their backs and backsides they’d inflicted on you and so many others. It was real justice to the fuckers. But ...’

‘But what?’ asked the others. Wilchin had sobered up abruptly.

‘Well. I turned to make a comment to Jonas and he was ... not quite the same. His eyes were all black, not blue, and there were sharp horns on his forehead. Only for a moment, like, and the old Jonas was back. But I wonders if after all he’s not something other than an elf.’

‘I never really thought he was one,’ Karl remarked. ‘But whatever he is, he’s good through and through, of that I’m sure.’ He looked at Andreas. ‘So that explains what Father Waxmann was talking about. There really was a miracle on the Platz. So what happened then?’

Wilchin’s toothy grin grew even broader. ‘Jonas shoved the butt end of the two whips hard up the arses of two of them, took my arm and we strolled off through the mob who’d gathered. “Now, Willem Antonin,” he says, “cos that’s your true name you’ve forgotten, I have a job for you.” And we walked naked and invisible down the Platz on to the Graben and came to the church with the clock hanging outside.’

‘The Fenizenkirche,’ commented Andreas.

‘That’s the one. So when we got there Jonas and me sat on a ledge as people passed by unseeing and he explained that one reason he took me to Faërie was to find out why I had “the mark” on me. Dunno what he meant by that, as I never saw any mark. Anyways, he said he knew now what I was and he was pretty sure She had opened up my gift. He said it was a gift he had too, and that it made him and me like brothers. I was a trickster, he said, and it was time to use my gift, though we’d start small. “What d’you mean, Jonas?” I asks. He took my hand and led me into the church.

‘There was a load of people standing praying round the life-size statue of this lady nun surrounded by candles. “It helps,” he says, “when people are already half way there, and are ready to believe what they think they see. Remember how you conjured up that boat? Well, think of that statue getting down off its plinth and smiling around and blessing the believers. You could try to get her to talk too, though that might be pushing it. Think her to have the face of Her, the lady you met on the island.”

‘So I tried and it was easy. The statue was already sort of unfocussed and wavering what with all the heat of the candle flames burning around it. So as I thought it she woke up and stepped down into the church and did a sort of wise smile around at the people there, just like the real Lady Fenice does. I tried to think words in the heads of the people who were all by now on their knees with their mouths wide open like fish on the fishmongers’ stalls. I told them that they must be good or things’d happen to them like the wicked friars of the Reformatory in the Platz who were a disgrace to the Church and should be in prison. Then I sorta let it all go and everything snapped back to normal.’

Karl was entranced. ‘So now we know you’re special too. Ando has his magic sword and power of command. I have my thing with horses, and you’re like a tiny version of Jonas!’

‘Not all that tiny,’ Wilchin objected. ‘So Jonas, he gives me a big hug and kiss and leads me back up to the Platz as all sorts was still going on there, what with the people from the church running past us and seeing the evil friars still tied in place and howling. The constables had arrived and the people from the church were shouting at them. We watched as the friars were hauled off to the Raathaus still naked wiv the whips hanging between their legs, like black tails. Then Jonas took my hand and wondered where we could get me some clothes. He don’t like conjuring them up and likes wearing them even less, he said. So I led him to my stash back of the wagon park, same one you used to use, Karlo, and got me second best togs on. No shoes though.’

‘So yer real name’s Willem Antonin,’ Andreas mused.

‘That’s what my lord Elf says. And then he said it was time to use it at last.’

‘How’s that?’

‘He told me to go over to the Leibgarde Barracks where the recruiting sergeants are. He said that with the war coming they’re desperate to enlist boys my age as drummers and servants and they ask no questions other than what yer name is. Not only that but they gives yer a crown piece to sign up. So I went there, gave me name, said I was fatherless and no one to give consent, and here I am, in me uniform and new shoes wiv me drum. Jonas said I’d find you here. And here we all are. On our way to the wars.’

 

***

 

Serge and Willi rode together on the road south, behind Prince Henry and his aides, amongst whom was a pert figure in male dress but possessing a wider rear than is usual in a male.

‘Y’know, I actually find Ulrica arousing dressed like a man,’ Serge mused.

‘Pervert,’ Willi responded.

‘I’ve never done it with a woman, unlike Jan Lisku,’ Serge confessed. ‘He says they take it up the backside too, and some even like it. It’s the front entry that alarms me. I suppose I’ll have to use it one day.’

‘What!’

‘Tone down the outrage, Willi dear. My mother’s last letter was quite clear that they expected me to come up with some ideas for a wife, and they were making a list of their own too. They did pay me the compliment of asking for my own preferences, which is more than our lord Zeus will get, the poor fellow.’

‘But you’d really get married!’

‘Why the shock, Willi? Likelihood is they’ll find a wife for you too. You’re the king’s nephew and, bastard or not, that counts for a lot in the provinces. If His Majesty is inclined to set you up at little expense to himself, finding you a Gräfin and heiress would suit him perfectly.’

‘But I’d have to stick my cock in her! Ugh! I could never get it up. How can you bear to contemplate it, enjoying sodomy with men as much as you so obviously do?’

‘Not easily, I have to admit. Dodie, bless her, intends to fall in love with her Staszek. Indeed she seems well on the way to it, and I hope it works out for them. Sometimes it does. Often it doesn’t. My grandfather and grandmother fell into it and have had many happy decades of marriage, and I envy them. My father and mother most decidedly did not but both know their duty and remain at least amicable and businesslike, and he keeps his whoring in Modenheim and Strelsau discreet.’

‘Hideous. No one will force me in front of an altar. What a bad deal I’d be for any decent woman.’

‘Don’t be unjust to yourself, Willi, you’d be very kind to the poor dear, I’m quite sure.’

‘But I could never make her happy!’

‘My dear Willi, we’re aristocrats. Happy marriages are for swains and shepherdesses, not for the likes of us.’

Willi shook his head with a look of distaste. ‘Sometimes Phoebus, you’re so rational I could spit. We’ll talk no more of this.’

 

***

 

As the columns of the Army of the League took the Waltherburg Pass one by one, Serge stationed himself at the camp on the Austrian side at the village of Oberlaimbach, which had been designated as one of the stages of their journey. He was to monitor the progress of each unit and inspect the arrangements made for them.

Each column had to make the crossing of the pass in one hard day’s march, but it would take three days in all for the army fully to cross into Austria. Most of the cavalry brigades had taken the pass the first day, but the real challenge would be tomorrow, when the artillery would begin the haul over the mountains. General Deladier, the military governor of Rechtenberg, had advised that extra teams of horses be stationed on the climb to the pass to deal with any problems with waggons and guns. The cavalry would progress onwards from Oberlaimbach and stay at Linz till the rest of the army caught up on 26 February, the morrow of St Matthias. Then once across the Danube the journey was across flat ground for several days before the Alps began and the route plunged into deep valley bottoms.

Serge was looking forward to seeing the city, followed by the dramatic landscapes of the Alps. He had his sketchbook fully charged with paper and his pencils at the ready. He sought out the pickets of the Prinzengarde and found everything in good order. The regiment was temporarily under the command of the newly-promoted Major Lorenz Barkozy, and Serge found him inspecting the lines. He hailed Serge cheerily.

‘All well, Lorenz?’ Serge asked, deciding that since they were now equals in rank, Barkozy must be admitted to first name terms.

‘Yes, my lord,’ came the nicely gauged response. ‘There’s more than sufficient oats for the horses. The Austrians have been as good as their word. The provost marshals were here in good time to mark out the pickets and camping grounds on the common pasture for each unit, all neatly marked out with flags, so there was no bickering about access to water, and we’re not trampling over the villagers’ fields. Privy pits are well downstream, as I insisted. It’s a lesson we learned in the Rhine campaign. Soldiers will piss and shit anywhere unless you stop them, and the streams soon get polluted and disease follows.’

‘Very good. I’d read in the third book of the De re militari of the good Publius Vegetius Renatus that the order of camp of the Roman legions was similar, and bowel flux was as a result relatively rare in their armies. I’ll sleep with the Prinzengarde this evening rather than stay with the prince’s household in the village. My servants should have secured a tent and camp bed I hope.’

‘You might be glad to hear that there’s been a reconciliation between your brother and your pages.’

‘Hah! You heard about that inglorious skirmish?’

Barkozy laughed. ‘Endlessly. But the difficulties of daily life have forced Boromeo to confront reality, as I hoped. I believe there’s even been something of an apology on his side. I saw one of your boys putting his gear into order just now, and the other one tending to his Onyx.’

‘I’m glad to hear it, though he’s not getting Andreas back as his servant. He couldn’t afford him anyway.’

‘Then he’d better hope for good fortune in war. As do we all.’

‘My dear Lorenz, I’m shocked. I thought we were drawing our swords for Holy Church.’

‘And so we are. But there are rewards other than in Heaven.’

 

***

 

The morning bustle at the Oberlaimbach camp began with the reveillez just before dawn. The Prinzengarde mustered by companies as the sun rose in the misty sky. According to the general orders, the first business of the day was the saying of mass by the regimental chaplains. The second was the clearing of the camp and the readying of it for the next night’s inhabitants, who were at that moment beginning their climb over the Waltherburg Pass. Then with the order to mount 6,000 cavalrymen took to the road by half companies in column, guidons and officers at their head, and with flourishes of trumpets and rumble of kettle drums the great column headed south through Upper Austria, a sight amazing enough to bring the peasants to their doors and from their fields as the regiments and brigades came down from the hills and jogged through the lowland villages.

Andreas and Karl rode at the rear of the Prinzengarde with the wagons, packhorses, farriers and other boys and servants. ‘Brunhild is really enjoying herself,’ Andreas remarked.

‘She certainly is,’ Karl replied, ‘she’s been getting to know the regiment’s more intelligent section.’

‘The horses?’ Andreas giggled.

‘You said it. She’s got them all in her head, and they recognise her as their Queen. Look how they sway their heads towards her and toss them when any ride past. That’s them doing homage to her. You know, if she wanted she could get them to go any direction she cared to, never mind what their riders thought.’

‘That would cause chaos, Karlo!’

‘Wasn’t going to ask her. Just saying. But look how well-ordered the march of the Prinzengarde is. Other regiments are noticing and our officers are taking credit for it, but it’s Brunhild who’s doing it all. She’s a wonder, she really is.’

For a while they rode in silence until Andreas observed ‘I think I know who the fourth boy is.’

‘Boromeo von Tarlenheim?’

‘It has to be. Jonas has been telling us in one way and another that we and him are tied together, and now the Lady Fenice has said the same to Wilchin. That string bean of a spotty boy is somehow not as ordinary as he looks.’

‘True enough,’ grimaced Karl, ‘the state of his drawers is pretty extraordinary. He’s like you, playing with his horn all the time, but unlike you he don’t clear up after. What’s more he don’t clean his arse proper after shitting either. I had some fun cleaning his underwear of the shit and the stains from his sticky schlong that regimental servant of his couldn’t be arsed doing. But at least this time he said thank you to me.’

‘Yeah, he’s learning his lesson at last. He’s even getting to look a bit more like his big brother these days. Definitely an improvement there.’

‘So what do you think this coming crisis is, Ando? ‘Cos it can’t be the one we were told about, where they use Boromeo to open up the way to Faërie and the River of Life. That has to be done in the abbey, but we’re hundreds of miles away from Medeln.’

‘Does it have to be done in the abbey?’ mused Andreas. ‘But I suppose you’re right. We know the general and the major have got other things on their mind than Boromeo at the moment in any case. I think it’s obviously going to be something that’s about to happen during the war and we’re going to need all our gifts to get through it. When we find Wilchin again on the march, we need to hold a council. Time to pool our resources and see exactly what it is we can do with them.

‘From what Lord Serge was saying when he was explaining the route to me, the next chance we’ll get to talk with our Wilchin will be in the city of Linz on the Donau, where the army will be reassembling before we head up through the big mountains. We’ll have a couple of days in camp there before Wilchin’s regiment turns up.’

‘Good,’ said Karl. ‘That gives us time to explain what we can to Boro about what’s been going on. He’s not that quick on the uptake is his lordship.’

Andreas laughed. ‘Boro is it now? Confess. You don’t dislike him.’

‘He’s like some daft puppy, all yappy and running round in circles, but not wicked underneath it all, just no idea what’s going on.’

‘And shitting everywhere in the house!’ Andreas guffawed at the thought. Karl rolled his eyes.

 

***

 

Serge called up his servants and baggage from the rear as the vanguard of the Army of the League, an honour confided to the Prinzengarde, crested the last hill of their road and the city of Laibach was spread out below. Andreas and Karl trotted up in answer to the summons and punctiliously saluted him.

‘Now my dears,’ Serge said, ‘below is the end of our march, and not only that but the Army of the League has reached it quite on time, for today is the 13th of March. I am to go down now into the city to notify the governor of Upper Carniola who lives up there in the schloss you see on the wooded hill. Now, the provost marshals were in the city two days ago, and we will find that lodgings have been secured for most of our officers in the city. But my grandfather has written to his very good friend, the Freiherr Weikhard von Valvasor, who will be offering hospitality to me, the Lord von Strelsau and my household. So you will accompany me with the horses and bags down into the city, and we’ll get you settled in the Freiherr’s house where you can prepare our rooms.’

‘Very good, my lord,’ Andreas replied. ‘Will my lord Boromeo also be staying in the house?’

‘I think Major Barkozy would rather he was in camp minding his troop, but we’ll see. Now let’s get down there.’

As they rode downhill and reached the suburbs, Andreas remarked on the wide, paved streets of the city and the neatness of the houses and churches, with hardly any old timber dwellings at all. Serge explained that Laibach had been greatly afflicted by a catastrophic earthquake in the year 1511, making extensive rebuilding necessary. And then 13 years later a terrible fire destroyed part of the city, which led to the prohibition of wooden buildings. They found the Freiherr’s house in a handsome square just across the river from the northern scarp of the castle hill.

They sat their horses a while, as Serge explained the various buildings. Looking around, Karl remarked that it was like Strelsau, with the people in the square speaking both in German and a sort of ‘country speech’.

‘Ah! And it’s not unlike the ‘country speech’ of Ruritania,’ Serge enthused. ‘That’s called Rotheniske, and the language here is Slovenščina. They belong to the same family of languages, which philosophers call “Slavic”. Their words are often alike. For instance the hilltop castle across the river is called the “Grad” in Slovenian and the city down here is called the “Mesto” while in Rothenian the words are “Hrad” and “Mesten”. If you two had ever learned Rothenian, you’d find Slovenščina not too dissimilar, at least in written form. But I think that most people here speak German at need, so you won’t be too challenged.’

‘You know so much, my lord,’ Karl admired artlessly.

‘And there’s so much more to learn,’ Serge replied. ‘But in this case I have a reason. My Tarlenheim aunt is of the Auersperg family, the greatest lords in this province of Carniola, or Krain as we call it in German. Their noble castle is some miles south of this city, and before we leave I must ride down and pay my respects to my cousins. Now, I believe that this very fine house beside the Dominican convent belongs to the Freiherr, so let’s go and introduce ourselves.’

 

***

 

All of a sudden Wilhelm von Strelsau found himself no longer a tourist on arrival at Laibach. Not only that, but he found himself catapulted by his cousin to a great height.

Prince Henry was accommodated in the castle of Laibach with his household, and Willi was summoned to the presence even before he had taken off his boots in the Valvasor house. He returned flabbergasted.

‘What’s up, Willi? You look like someone has found your erotic sketchbook and handed over the particularly perverted drawings to the cardinal archbishop.’

‘It’s gone to his head.’

‘What has?’

‘Zeus has decided that since he’s the Vicar General of the Empire, he can do royal things now he’s not at home with Cronos watching his every move. I’ve been created Lord Chamberlain of his household and publicly gazetted as Freiherr von Strelsau to match my new rank. My dear, we’re socially equal. You’re no longer slumming it.’

Serge beamed and hugged him. ‘I’ll bet there’s a reason other than his usual desire to disconcert you.’

Willi shook his head as if to clear it. ‘You’re right of course. On Sunday Henry’s to be invested solemnly in St Nicholas’s cathedral. I have to orchestrate a suitable ceremony. With two days left to plan it in. Of course, we can leave the candles, incense and chanting to the reverend sweethearts in copes, and the actual installation of His Vicarness is planned out already, but it’s down to me to do all the spectacle: marshalling troops, drawing up orders for processions, planning banquets and fireworks. To do that properly I need a rod of office, as Lord Chamberlains do. And all in two days!

‘Forget dinner, I have to get down to the évêché and make friends with the bishop. My dear, pray for me. I have sleepless nights ahead of me. So much for a nice restful military campaign of conquest and rapine. Can you get one of your resourceful lads to find a five-foot pole and have it painted white?’

When Serge wearily returned to his lodgings that night, and had made himself even wearier by staying up and discussing historical points with his distinguished host, he found Willi still up and scribbling with papers, lists and sketches pinned to the panelling in front of a table he had found.

Serge yawned like an opening chasm. ‘Still up, Willi dear?’

His lover turned round, almost with irritation. ‘Yes, yes. Now go to bed and don’t distract me with snores. I am creating!’ Serge hit the pillows and knew no more till Friday dawned and the square outside was full of the sound of marching feet, the rattle of hooves and the rumble of gun carriages.

 

***

 

Andreas and Karl stood up on the top steps of the water fountain in the centre of Cyril and Methodius Square at the foot of the castle hill of Laibach. The square and the roadway up to the castle gate were lined with the grenadier companies of the Ruritanian regiments, while the white-coated Prinzengarde were mustered in front of the cathedral opposite them. Boromeo von Tarlenheim, sword drawn and at his shoulder, could be seen among the officers standing in the front rank. It was as trumpets sounded and cannon boomed from the fortress above them, and cheering began from the huge crowds, that Wilchin appeared at their shoulders, in uniform but without his drum.

‘Took yer time,’ observed Andreas.

‘Not easy to worm me way through the crowds was it.’ He looked around. ‘Bit like home innit: big square, church and Conduit.’

‘Come on, Wilchin,’ Karl grumbled, ‘we just got time.’

With Karl in the lead the three boys squeezed round the back of the crowded pavement and slipped past the guards to the west door of the cathedral, where several clergy in copes were standing.

‘Here, my lord!’ Karl reported to Willi von Strelsau, dressed up in his best suit of purple, gold and black, with a white periwig.

‘About time, imps. Who’s this?’ He stared at Wilchin, who grinned toothily back.

‘It’s ... er ... my cousin,’ lied Karl. ‘Can he come too?’

‘I suppose. I really stuck my neck out for you boys. All debts cancelled now, understood?’

‘Yes my lord, till you need more drawers washing, or white sticks found and painted. It looks nice by the way,’ Andreas smiled knowingly, ‘very official.’

‘So, up you go, and close that door behind you.’ He indicated a small pointed doorway in the east façade of the tower. The boys slipped through and climbed up the narrow spiral stair within, to come out on to a high east gallery looking down into the crowded nave at the west end of which was set up a high, canopied throne. It was the perfect view for the ceremony. They leaned over the stone balustrade.

‘The Salvatorskirche is bigger,’ Wilchin commented loyally. ‘I thought this was supposed to be a cathedral.’

‘Shh! Here comes the procession,’ Karl cautioned. Music began and the organ roused itself. The sound of cheering outside penetrated the church nonetheless. Then with a great fanfare Prince Henry entered the church preceded by a procession of the canons in their copes and several officers bearing objects. The prince was walking hand-in-hand with the Regent of Carniola and wearing a mantle of cloth of gold. In front of him went General Dudley bearing upright and sheathed the Imperial coronation sword of St Maurice, and leading the way was Father Heer in a cope, bearing high the Imperial Cross brought from Vienna, the most sacred of the relics in the Emperor’s treasury, which he placed on the high altar.

Prince Henry ascended his high throne and seated himself. The Regent read out the Golden Bull bestowing the Imperial vicariate on him, and one after another the banners of the imperial provinces towards the Turks processed down the nave to be presented to Prince Henry as a token of his new authority. The bishop of Laibach took the sword from General Dudley, drew it from the sheath and, proclaiming a blessing, presented it to the prince to hold in his left hand. Then finally Serge von Tarlenheim brought the imperial sceptre to the bishop, who placed it in the prince’s right hand as a token that the authority of the emperor in those provinces was now in the care of Henry of Ruritania

Copyright © 2020 Mike Arram; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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Good luck convincing Boromeo of anything :)

I'm finding it hard to know, for sure, who the Baddies are? My money has been on Larkozy and Dudley. But then they can be nice as well and they are well liked by some good people? I know. Bad/evil people aren't fully bad/evil all the time, etc. But still.

I wonder who the Boys are going to have to 'denounce'? I am assuming it is a Who?

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