On the Passing of Knights
Hradcany Castle/The Wewelsburg, November-December RY153
I hate it when my brother is right. And what's even more annoying, is that in matters esoteric, it seems to be more often than he's wrong. Of the two of us, I would have said that I had made more of a study of souls and their manipulation, but Robert was right on the ball when it came to the matter of Silke von Halle. After the destruction of Rensburg, when I asked...okay, all but ordered...him to bring her back from the Halls of Waiting, he'd said she would come back changed. And yet I asked him to do it anyway. And he was bloody well right. As he so often is.
Life was so much simpler when the only things I cared about were myself and the Reich. Allowing myself human attachments has made me...sentimental.
Of course, I tried to carry on as if nothing had changed. I returned her to her duties once she seemed rested and recovered from her ordeal. And I continued to trust her judgement as far as the Ahnenerbe was concerned, as she was the best commander that department of the SS had ever had. But it didn't take very long for the rot to set in, and I began to notice that she seemed uncomfortable when carrying out her duties as Priestess within the private ceremonies of the Knights of the SS. And when I took a good look at her with the Pattern, I saw that her soul had been pierced with a shard of Light. That little bit of himself which Robert had had to place in her so she could be returned to life.
I hoped that perhaps it was something which would pass. That if I gave her time, she would come back to her true self. I sent her on assignment to a world running fast to the Reich, Siener, the world I had created with Robert's help in place of Rensburg, where I had established an interesting anthropological project. And as she was an anthropologist by training, she seemed fascinated by the way that world worked (laying aside the fact that some of Robert's bloody agents decided to knock holes in the central site of the religion on that world...I'm really going to have to do something about them). But it didn't change the taint in her soul.
I asked her to assist with some fast-time tuition of a couple of mage students who Jorge von Klieburg had found for me, and she seemed happy to help. But again, it didn't change the taint in her soul.
And soon we both knew that things couldn't continue as they were. Eventually, with regret, I had to order her to put her affairs in order and prepare to hand over to her deputy, Marin Adler, both as commander of the Ahnenerbe and as Priestess of the Knights. For the completion of this, I set a deadline of the Winter Solstice, when I intended to dedicate two new Knights: Marin herself, to become the Order's new Priestess; and Wolfram Kapler, Matthias's brother and Kommandant of the Wewelsburg, who would replace Johan Hartwin.
What was worse was that, understanding such a move was inevitable, like the faithful, loyal soldier she always had been, she obeyed me without argument, which of course, didn't make things any easier. Because once I'd accepted that she could no longer function in the capacities in which she'd been trained almost from birth - indeed, arguably the capacities for which she'd been born in the first place - the question became what to do with her. After all, in the history of the Order of Knights, none had ever left freely. All had died and both of us knew that. I didn't even have a ceremony in place for handover or resignation.
And yet I found myself wishing there was another way. A way in which Silke could walk away alive. Even twenty years ago I wouldn't have even considered that. I would have had her shot as for no longer being a dedicated follower of the cause. But now...
Sentimentality has made me weak.
And still I considered the problem, albeit that my attention was distracted by some issues which had arisen regarding the Wewelsburg, and also due to the not unimportant fact that Frida was due to give birth to our child. A child whose existence had been helped by Phoebe, Goddess of Beauty from the Empire of Eboracum. I still hadn't figured out how she had managed to allow Frida and I to conceive another child, and without the test tubes and rituals that father had used for Berthold and poor Stefan, much as I would have loved to know, although I had the impression from her that it was something she could only do once.
However, after Isabelle was born, I had more opportunity to think. I noted the fact that Silke was, indeed, teaching her successor what she needed to learn, both in terms of the Ahnenerbe and the Order. But I also noticed that as it got closer to the Winter Solstice, her mood seemed to be becoming more bleak. To put it bluntly, she was preparing herself to die.
And to my surprise, it pierced my heart to see it. Even though I now had children of my own, the group of talented individuals I had caused to be born while Andrew was my guest had been my family long before I had ever met Frida, and I felt like a father watching his daughter dying of some incurable disease.
I almost found myself regretting that I couldn't go back to before I cared.
The Trump call which gave me an idea for solving the problem came in one evening, as I was preparing to head home. When I checked the ID, I realised it was Titus Moore, the High Priest of Protection in the Empire, and therefore my main representative as the Great Protector. And I realised I should have been going to visit him for my regular progress report on matters to do with the Church of Protection. I'd had so much on my mind, that I'd forgotten. Something I'm not sure I'd ever done before. By the gods I needed to get a grip on things.
I broke the contact, quickly headed home and changed out of uniform and into civvies...I always made a point of conducting church business in civvies...and then called him back and went through to Eboracum, immediately feeling the warmth of the sunshine compared to the coldness of winter back home.
We headed into his office, and he duly brought me up to speed on matters regarding the church since we had last spoken. And as he did, he mentioned something which got me to thinking. He commented that while the close protection and physical security aspects of the church's work were well staffed and well in hand, they were beginning to suffer from a magical workload which was getting to be too much for their warding mages and ritual specialists. I let him know that I would think on the matter, and eventually headed home, but the conversation was enough to prompt a possibility in my mind. Would Silke be willing to take a transfer to Eboracum, out of the SS, and become involved in the church.
Of course, having run the Ahnenerbe for so long, she might find it difficult to accept a subordinate position. However, currently the main presence of the church was in New Yorvik, while the capital of the Empire, Eboracum itself, was more of a satellite station. Maybe she would be able to take charge there and build it up to equal importance.
It wasn't perfect, but it was better than having her shot.
I spent a couple of days pondering the possibilities of the solution, and eventually decided it was workable. So come December 1st, the morning of my meeting with Robert, I asked Silke to attend me in my office.
As she came in, I could see that she wasn't herself: that she had given herself over to the inevitable and that the spark of life that had always been so vital in her was all but gone. I indicated for her to stand at ease, and then met her gaze.
"Is it time, Herr Reichsführer?" she asked, quietly.
"I've made my decision regarding your future, yes," I answered.
"How is it going to be done? Will I know when it will occur, or will it just happen?"
"Actually, I've considered another possibility," I replied, "one that does not involve anything quite so final."
She looked up at me, surprised, and for a moment I saw a flash of life in her eyes, which cheered me immensely, however short lived it was.
"How much did you talk to Jorge von Klieburg when we were away in Hawaii?" I asked, a variant of Hawaii being where I had set up the fast time Shadow we had used for training the Eriksons.
"About what?"
"About his life and duties in New Yorvik?"
"A little...not a great deal..."
"I'm told by my High Priest that one thing they are painfully short of, is magicians and ritualists. The alternative to the...obvious solution...is for me to assign you to the Empire as a member of the church. You could do good work there, and you would have the opportunity to help Jorge with raising our profile down there in a positive way."
"Aren't there problems about ritual magic there?"
"Tantric rituals are perfectly acceptable, as their nature is to generate life energy, and you are the one who has made those more prominent in the rituals of the Order. And my priests are allowed to use their own blood in ritual, at least as far as warding and protection is concerned. Beyond that though, no. Blood magic and sacrifice are unacceptable to the Powers that Be there."
"Hence the Curse," she replied, referring to the black spot which appeared on the forehead of anyone in the Empire who performed a ritual which reduced the life energy of any of its participants. Roland never had had the right idea about what blood magic could be used for, and how powerful it can be.
"Indeed. Hence the Curse," I replied, "however, bearing in mind that we are having this conversation because we are both aware that you are no longer comfortable with the non-tantric magics and rituals we use in the Order, surely the fact that such strictures are in place in the Empire shouldn't be a problem?"
She was quiet for a moment, obviously pondering what I'd said, and then nodded.
"And what about the Order?" she asked, finally.
"We both know there is no way that you can remain one of my Knights," I answered.
"But no-one's ever left...no-one's ever resigned from it."
"Mostly because Andrew the Butcher has helped them out of office in a box," I commented, "but no. It has never been done before. However, if you decide on this course of action, I suggest that your last action as Priestess is to devise a ritual to anoint your successor."
"In the end, if I were to choose what you've suggested, how would the logistics of it work?"
"A couple of ways. You could leave both the Order and the Reich with honour, and take up your position down there. Equally, if you would prefer to sever ties, your death can be arranged and you would depart with a new identity. Or, if the idea doesn't appeal at all, then you have already considered what that would mean. My options, sadly, aren't limitless."
"What about their identity magic? Or money for when I got there? I understand that without money, you end up fed to the lions or sold into slavery."
"I would arrange it. And while there are no salaries within the church per se, the people are generous with their donations, and so none of my priests are in the slightest danger of not having a roof over their head, or being sold as slaves. Moreover, if you take comfort from such things, you would still be working for me, but the pressures on you would be less...the challenges different."
I watched her in silence, as she considered the possibilities, and I could at least see curiosity and interest in her eyes. But I could also see conflict as she tried to decide whether it was what she truly wanted...whether she should seize the lifeline I was offering her.
"You don't have to decide now, Silke. But I'd like you to think about it. Inform me of your decision within the next couple of days, along with any arrangements I need to make for your handover to Marin. As I see it, if you follow this course of action, on the night itself, it will need to be done in two stages. You will need to surrender your position to me, and I will have to escort you from the Chamber. Then, once you had departed on your way, I will need to oversee the making of the two new Knights, before I can pass the dagger to her."
"Of course," she said, looking at me, and I could see more purpose in her eyes, "you can trust that I will devise something appropriate. Thank you, Herr Reichsführer."
I nodded, and then she saluted and headed out of the office, and as she went I knew that the survivor in her would take the opportunity I had given her and was comforted by the thought.
* * * * * *
She conveyed her decision to me the following day, whereupon as well as her handover preparations, we also set about dealing with her registration as an Empire resident, as well as working out where she would initially be based, where she would live and how her existence down there would be funded. I decided that I initially wanted her to work with Titus and Jorge in New Yorvik, until she was more aware of what her duties were going to entail. Then, my intention would be for her to move to Eboracum and take point at the temple there.
Moreover, we also came to the decision that we would allow her to withdraw from the Reich with honour, alive and well, so that if she wished she could still communicate with those who cared about her who remained behind - of which there would certainly be some - without fear of reprisal. Dominik immediately sprang to mind. I even spoke to the Kaiser about the possibility of placing her on the list to become a member of the Order of the Black Eagle, the only order of chivalry with more seniority than the Knights within the Reich. Of course, as is the case of the Knights to me, the gift of the Black Eagle is entirely in his hands. However, he did at least offer to consider it. I supposed I would find out how seriously when he next announced appointments. Of course, that was some months away.
I also spent some of the intervening time speaking with Marin Adler. Unlike Silke, Dominik and the others, she was not one of Andrew's children, although her Blood credentials were perfectly acceptable for her to become High Priestess of the Order. She was the daughter of Jürgen Kessler, Lebensborn son of our beloved Party Chairman (not that Conrad was aware of it), and now head of the Waffen-SS; and Irma Adler, who had been the Order's Priestess at the time of the Black Friday Working. They had married a few months after the Working, after they had returned from their respective assignments related to it, and Marin was conceived some years later, unusually during one of the Wewelsburg ceremonies. Irma had been the only woman Jürgen had ever really loved, until she had been murdered by Andrew bloody de Lacy in RY130.
As well as being commander of the Ahnenerbe Ancient Mysteries section, Marin was a very experienced occultist, and had been a Companion of the Order for the required minimum seven-year apprenticeship. Admittedly, she had recently dodged a bullet when one of her old projects nearly came back to haunt her, but she had weathered it well, and hadn't let it turn her aside from her purpose. She was also ambitious, and I knew that her ambition could be channelled for the greater good. All in all, she was the only viable replacement for Silke as Priestess.
If Silke could ever really be replaced.
Dammit, even though she'd only been a full Knight for two years, she had been the best Priestess we had ever had, and had widened our ideas, views and rituals substantially. Still, I had hopes for Marin, and during our conversations together, I was left feeling confident that Silke had been thorough in her training, and that she would be able to step in once she was made a full Knight of the Order on the Winter Solstice.
* * * * * *
When it came, the night of the Solstice was cold. Throughout the castle could be heard the music of the celebrations as the members of the SS marked the festival of the death of the old year and the return of the sun, and could smell the smoke from the ceremonial bonfires which warmed the courtyard against the snow that was blowing in the air. As always on the night of the Winter Solstice, the Knights had celebrated with the lower ranks of the Order, as well as members of the Wewelsburg garrison and their families, until the hour we moved inside for our own observations of the festival. On this occasion, I'd even taken the opportunity to arrange the dedication of my new daughter to coincide with the festivities, which had given even more of an air of celebration to what was always a joyous occasion.
Now, though, Isabelle was with her mother, and the Knights had work to do. As we assembled in the Gruppenführersaal, Silke seated at her place at the round table for the last time and Hartwin's vacant seat like a wound, I could see snow falling fitfully outside the windows. Around us, the Saal smelt of pine and yew from the decorations marking the dark of the year. Wolfram and Marin, of course, waited outside as we assembled. Until they took their places among the Knights, they had no business in the Saal.
"Brothers, sister...we meet this night on an occasion both momentous and sad in the history of our Order," I began, "tonight we say goodbye to one of our own, and welcome two newcomers to our Brotherhood. If there is anything which remains unsaid, then I suggest you say it now, before we adjourn downstairs, as there will be no further opportunity to do so."
I remained seated while they rose, and watched as they crossed to Silke and said their goodbyes I was a little surprised that the one who seemed most shaken, most saddened, was Dominik Gerlinde. Emotion really wasn't something he usually showed. Tristan Heydrich, her maternal grandfather, also seemed upset at her departure. After all, his daughter had given a great deal to participate in my programme with Andrew, even if she had been well rewarded for her service, and now it seemed that her sacrifice had gone to waste.
One or two of the others, however, seemed hostile towards her from their body language, particularly Maximillien Hauer, Head of the Gestapo, and Diederick Schneider, one of Tristan's subordinates at the SD. They, at least, felt she was betraying the Order and that I should have taken more final steps to sever her from our body. Of course, neither of them were aware that they were mentally condemning a Blood relative. Not that I suspect it would have mattered. Both have always put their own feelings and wellbeing below that of the state. It's why they're so good at what they do.
Off to one side, Conrad remained silent, impervious, watching but staying separate from them as always. Of course, unlike the others, he is not a serving member of the regiment, and therefore doesn't share their bond. However, I could see his quick mind taking everything in, and observing how the others interacted.
Finally, I decided it was time, and brought the conversation to a close. They saluted smartly, and we began to make our way down to the Crypt, and below it the Chamber - the chapel where we Work. Behind us, the Honour Guard fell in, flanking the new candidates, and following them, other Companions of the Order escorted the sacrifices which would be made to bring Wolfram and Marin into our fellowship. In the same way that it was the first time that one of the Knights had left us voluntarily, it was also the first time that two would be initiated at the same time.
I had considered postponing Wolfram's initiation until the Summer meeting, Knights only ever being initiated on the Solstices, but in the end I realised that with so much going on, and new enemies on the horizon in the form of Andreas's Machine and the Federation, the Knights needed to be at full strength. I was even considering the possibility of setting up a Second Circle of Knights to help spread the load, although I still hadn't made a decision on that matter.
As was our usual practice, we paused for a few minutes in the Crypt, to consider and honour those who had gone before us, whose remains were laid to rest around the room. In general, if the remains could be retrieved, the bodies of fallen Knights would be burned on a pyre in the castle courtyard, and then the ashes would be interred in niches around the walls, along with their Knight's dagger - if they were still in possession of it - and then sealed in with the Knight's heraldic seal, which was then broken and burned. We had only retrieved part of Hartwin's body - Andrew had denied him his head - but what we had recovered had been cremated and laid in its niche with due ceremony when we had met in September.
For other senior officers, they would usually be cremated elsewhere, and would be granted the honour of having their ashes placed within the plinths around the centre of the room, should their families wish it, while members of my Honour Guard who had fallen in service would be treated similarly to the Knights, although it would be their standard officer's dagger interred with them, rather than a Knight's dagger.
Once we had made our remembrance to our fallen Kameraden, I crossed to the keystone, drew my dagger from its scabbard, cut my palm and let the blood drip into the keyhole to open the staircase. At this point, only the Knights and myself would proceed down to the Chamber. Once the first piece of business was done, I would call the others down for the initiation ceremony. I waited as the others descended, Rikart last so he could continue to act as my bodyguard if it was needed, and then followed behind them, mentally commanding the staircase not to close until such time as I ordered it to. Of course, this gave me the opportunity to heal the cut on my hand while they weren't in a position to see the method I used.
As I entered the antechamber, the small hallway between the Working Chamber and the Sable Pattern Room, the only remaining robes were my own, and I could see the chests containing the regalia we would need tonight were open, their contents already ready in the Chamber for later. Of course, with the exception of one of the chalices, they wouldn't be used in the initial part of the evening.
I pulled on the robes, and then declared myself to the wards surrounding the Chamber and was given admittance. As I looked around, I noted that the Chamber had been decorated as for an SS funeral, with flowers and greenery, and a wreath of yew lying in the centre of the altar, tied with a black ribbon, silver lightning runes embroidered upon it. The others were already inside, positioned around the altar in the centre of the room, and as I entered, we exchanged the ritual greetings. Jürgen, as the senior Knight besides myself, stood to my left. Hartwin's position, to my right, remained empty, but once the newcomers had joined us, it would belong by right to Dominik, as the second most senior remaining member of the Order. Silke stood directly opposite me, in the place of the Priestess.
She had discussed the ritual she had devised with me in detail over the past few days, as we would both need to play our correct parts. Parts of it I wasn't happy with, but she had explained her reasons for including them, and I had accepted them. And of course, once she was gone, I would need to continue it alone, it falling to the High Priest to take sole command of such things in the absence of his Priestess. Even the funerary touches were hers, as however we looked at it, even though she was walking away, we would be celebrating her passing within the Order.
She gestured, and very quietly I began to hear the strains of Siegfried's Funeral March from Wagner's Gotterdammerung: not loudly, but almost at the limit of hearing, adding to the funereal feel. Then we began to exchange the words we had prepared. Words of regret. Words of resignation. Words of departure. The other Knights listened in silence, watching us both in expectation.
Once the initial words had been exchanged, she stepped from her place, round to where I was standing. I moved back, so she could stand between myself and the altar. Then she gestured to Dominik - I'd guessed it would be him she had asked to do this - and he stepped forward, dagger in hand. He crossed to her, and with quick slashes, cut the ceremonial robes from her body, leaving her standing in a simple white shift, belted with black leather, from which hung her Knight's dagger in its scabbard.
Normally, a Knight's robes are made especially for them, and are burned with them when they die. Her intention, as she'd explained it to me, was to achieve a similar effect. Dominik picked up the torn robes, laid them on the altar, and then lit them from the brazier and watched the flames take them and the funeral wreath beneath them. Silke herself turned, and observed as they disintegrated, and I could feel her tension and sadness as they did. To speed things along, I cast a small incantation which meant that the fire would burn more quickly, and soon all that remained was ash.
Once that symbol of her life in the Order was destroyed, one other remained - plus Silke herself, of course. She turned back to me, drew her Knight's dagger from its scabbard and handed it to me, hilt first. I accepted it and met her gaze. She knew that what would happen next would be painful, but it had been her suggestion and whether or not I liked it, it fitted the mood. I placed the point above her heart, and made a sharp cut into her flesh. A ceremonial death, if you will. She gasped but stood her ground, trusting that I would not have harmed her in a way that would kill her instantly.
To one side, I saw a flash of anger from Dominik and he took a step forward towards her, but my eyes met his, and I willed him to be calm. He nodded briefly, and once again stepped back into his place in the circle. Silke fell to her knees and looked at me and I made a second cut, in the side of her neck - still not deep enough to kill, but enough to let the blood run. As she had devised, I handed her dagger to Jürgen, in return for one of the ceremonial chalices and caught some of her blood in it. Once it was about half full, I gave it to Dominik - who looked far from happy, but placed it on the altar as I had instructed - and took her dagger back from Jürgen. The blood would be consumed later when Marin took over Silke's mantle as Priestess.
And one thing remained.
She remained kneeling, looking at me, and before her I took the dagger, and with a combination of strength and magic, I snapped the blade from the hilt, blooding my left hand in the process. The release of energy was more than I had expected, and there was a flash of light in the Chamber. As it subsided I could feel that the part of her own life force which had been bound into it had been released and destroyed. She sagged, and I realised that things needed to be finished quickly. We had calculated the timings of the ritual based on her Blood stamina, bearing in mind her inner strength and her inherent ability to shape shift. However, as the dagger snapped, I felt something had been taken from her.
I laid the pieces on the altar, and said the final words, and then helped her back to her feet. She was shakier than she should have been, but she was also proud, and she took my arm as I escorted her from the room. Behind us, her Brothers of the Order sang a haunting song of mourning, which accompanied us as we passed into the antechamber.
"Let me see to those," I said, quietly, indicating the wounds I had inflicted, and rather than argue, she nodded. I laid my hand on her neck first, and healed that wound, as the more serious one, noticing as I did that it scarred as it healed. Then I laid my hand on her breast, and healed the second.
"And now?" she asked.
"My original idea was for you to walk the Pattern to leave here. But I'm not sure you're strong enough to do that," I answered, "I suggest you change into the clothes waiting inside the Pattern Chamber for you, and then I'll take you to New Yorvik myself."
"Of course, Herr Reichsführer," she replied, and tried to move towards the Pattern Room door, but stumbled. I put an arm around her, and helped her through, before stepping back out to give her some privacy. While I waited for her, I stripped off my ceremonial robes - magically removing Silke's blood as I did - and conjured up some civilian clothes, so I wouldn't look quite out of place when I turned up at the Temple. I also gave Titus a call to inform him of the change of plan.
Then, after I'd given her what seemed to be a suitable amount of time, I walked back into the Pattern Room. She was sitting on the platform by the steps down to the floor of the Chamber, where the Sable Pattern burned. I could see her staring at it, as if she was trying to gain strength from it.
"Are you ready to go?" I asked, quietly, standing in front of her, and offering her my hand.
"As I'm ever going to be, Herr Reichsführer," she replied, taking it and getting slowly to her feet.
"You do realise that once you get to New Yorvik, the correct term of address is Great Protector," I said, and saw her smile weakly.
"It will take some getting used to."
"I know it will. Of course, in private, you could always call me Uncle Rupert."
She looked at me and looked so confused, so forlorn. Once again pierced to the heart, I took her in my arms and held her as she began to cry.
"I'm going to miss you, Silke. Even though I'll know full well that you're alive and well, and we'll even be in communication."
"I'll miss you too, Master," she answered, through her tears.
We remained like that until her sobs began to diminish, and then finally ceased, and she looked at me. I gestured, and the tear stains were quickly gone.
"Thank you," she said, quietly, "for being willing to let me do this...for not demanding my life."
"You may not realise it, but you have been like a daughter to me, and it was my arrogance that brought you to this. I owed it to you to try to make that right."
I was surprised at my own words. Again, twenty years ago, they would have never passed my lips. Maybe my monthly meetings with Robert were making me too civilised, and part of his humanity was rubbing off on me.
"Now, we should go. I need to get back to the others, or they're going to wonder what's happening. Take my hand."
She did so, and I brought the Pattern to mind and transferred us to the Temple in New Yorvik, where Jorge and Titus were waiting. As we arrived, I released her hand and she began to look around.
"Afternoon, Great Protector," Jorge said, a mischievous look in his eye, "you're...later than we expected."
"Nothing is ever simple, Jorge," I answered, "do you have the item I asked you to bring for me?"
"I do," he replied, and handed me a dagger, hilt first. The shape and styling was the same as the usual SS pattern, but on the hilt was the Norse rune of Protection. The Working dagger of a priest of my church. I cast the incantations over it which would activate it and give it power, and then handed it to Silke.
"Listen to your teachers. Learn. Be well."
"I will...Uncle Rupert," she said with a smile, and I instinctively knew she was telling the truth.
"Good," I replied, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze before breaking contact, "and now. I should be returning. There is still a lot to do tonight."
And with that I smiled at her, nodded to Jorge and Titus, and then brought up the Pattern and returned to the Sable Pattern Chamber.
I had two new Knights to make.