Compromises
Germania, Late-Spring Amber Time
It was post the vote, and my father was now Crown Prince Presumptive of Amber. God help both of us. I was back in the flat in Lancaster Gate, typing up the notes for my most recent missing person case - which had thankfully been concluded successfully, with reunion of parents and lost child - when I felt the stirrings of a Trump call. Given that Ian is the only one who ever calls me, I figured it was him and opened up the link.
"Are you busy?"
Why does he always start Trump calls like that? Does he think I don't have my own life? Still...
"Nothing I can't put off, why?"
"I need your help."
Behind him, I could see marble walls, and out of the window, I saw the Great Hall of the Reich on Germania. If I judged it right, the angle was from the Reich Chancellery; quite possibly from Dieter's office. There was no way he'd be there if my other grandfather wasn't well aware of it.
"If you're where I think you are, you really do," I said, looking at him in disbelief.
"We have a situation...can you come through?"
"Christ, Mihai. What have you got yourself into now?"
"I don't want to discuss it over a Trump."
"Hold."
If he was in Germania, he needed Dieter for something. If he needed both me and Dieter, that implied ritual magic, probably the large-scale shit that my grandfather specialised in, although after what had happened with Thorsten, I was surprised that Ian would go that route. And of course, Germania also cast me into a specific role, one which I wasn't entirely sure he realised, and I would need to be careful how I played that.
I crossed to the bookcase, and moved the half a dozen oversized forensics books which hid my safe, then keyed in the entry code and opened it. From inside, I pulled out my adept ring, plus the other ring which lived in there, which was more in line with Germania, and put them in my pocket. Then I looked at the two blades I kept in there. Which one? One had been given to me by Ian when I was initiated into the Group, and was the one I usually used as an athame. The other had been given to me by my grandfather on Halloween 1980, and I'm not sure Ian had recognised it for what it was on the one occasion I think he'd seen it.
I weighed the options, and concluded that given where we were going and who we were likely to be with, the latter was probably the one I needed to take. I removed it, relocked the safe, replaced the books and then clipped the blade into a sheath in the small of my back. Then I put my usual combat knife into the ankle sheath, called Michel to ask her to look in on my cat, and was ready.
"Ian," I said, pinging the link.
"Ready?"
"No, but bring me through anyway," I answered, and offered him my hand.
As I stepped through, I saw that I had been right on location. I immediately recognised the bronze eagle on the plinth behind my grandfather's desk, from my occasional private visits there, and then scanned the room to see who was there. Apart from Ian, I recognised Tone, Edward, Matthew and Dave. Over to one side I also saw Geran's son Erik, looking decidedly lost, but valiantly trying to keep up with the conversation. There were also the obligatory SS guards - not a trusting man, my grandfather - plus Dieter himself, and Thorsten. Dieter was dressed in simple party uniform, but my son...I had a double-take as I saw the single oak leaf on the collar tabs of his feldgrau jacket.
"My, this is an interesting gathering," I said as I arrived, then nodded in greeting towards my grandfather. "Herr Oberstgruppenführer...Thorsten."
Dieter acknowledged me with a nod, but to my surprise, Thorsten came over and offered his hand. I shook it, and was even more surprised by what he said.
"I trust you're well, father."
"Yes, thank you. It's good to see you again," I answered, with a smile. The acknowledgement of our relationship meant a great deal to me.
"Could you four make an Et in Arcadia of your own?" Edward said, and I realised I really had come in mid something major. Wasn't Et In Arcadia Ego where Ian had put a spanner in Benedict's plans for mass murder?
Matthew's answer seemed to support that.
"You need to talk to Benedict."
He didn't look happy as he said it. In fact, as I looked around the room again, with the exception of Dieter, none of them looked happy. Especially Ian, who was more tense than I'd seen him in a long time - even in the drawing room during the vote. My grandfather, on the other hand, was keeping a straight face, but his body language indicated to me that he was highly satisfied with the discussion. What the Hell was going on?
They kicked the subject of Benedict back and forth, but it was Dieter who made everything clear.
"We can make a huge ritual here," he commented, "We don't need Shadow destruction, just a smaller area where the army is concentrated."
"The four of us are a pretty strong team," Ian concurred, "Dieter, I'd even let you lead."
What?
I stared at him, shocked by what he'd just said. No way. Not Ian. Not that.
No wonder Dieter felt like the cat that had just got the cream. Lucifer could learn a thing or two from my grandfather.
"OK," Edward acknowledged, "so all the parts of this weapon exist - we know where they are, and we could bring them to play? Now back to Dieter, Ian and co. Do you have the means and the opportunity to make what needs doing happen so that we don't have to deal with my father?"
"It worked in Rebma," Ian answered, "although there the geology helped us. However, rituals can be bloody powerful...not quick, but yes, you could wipe out most of that army with one."
What army? What the bloody Hell had he dragged me into?
Dieter glanced over at me, then at Ian, and then at the others, appraising each of them before speaking. And when he did, his tone was studied neutral.
"If we do it my way, you can't come back and preach about loss of life. It is necessary. A few sacrifices are better than the sacrifice of war to Matthew's cowardly idea of hiding behind trenches."
"Right now," Edward answered, "I'm leaning towards team ritualists here - as things stand, there is nobody in a critical role of this plan who is certifiably insane, and that goes out the window if we have to involve my father."
My first instinct was to chuckle at his comment - although technically, Dieter is probably a high-functioning clinical psychopath - but then I realised he was deadly serious. I glanced at Ian, and saw a set to his jaw I hadn't seen in a very long time. He was actually willing to go along with this.
And then it dawned on me what he'd said earlier. "The four of us are a pretty strong team." He was selling my soul along with his own. Christ, what right did he have to do that? I just stood, looking at him, wondering if I'd ever known the man at all. Especially as he then promptly tried to defend Tone against exactly what he was doing to me.
"I'm willing to sell my soul for this, but don't make them do it."
"Very well Ian," Dieter answered, and I thought I saw satisfaction in his expression, "you will do one of the rituals."
I saw my father nod, and I knew our fates were cast.
"Are you sure?" I asked him, quietly, trying not to believe that he would actually go for this.
"Do I have a choice?"
And of course, I was deficient in the information loop as to exactly what was going on, so I couldn't answer. What the Hell was going on?
I stared at him in disbelief for a moment, then found a seat off to one side of the room, and sat down and listened. The argument seemed to hinge on the need for a weapon of mass destruction, and the pros and cons of whether it was best to use something Benedict had, which would have involved Matthew imperilling his mortal soul, or whether to use a ritual of Dieter's devising to achieve the same effect another way. And unfortunately, if things were as dire as they sounded, if Benedict's weapon was unavailable, then Dieter and Ian might actually be right.
The trouble was, while I was pretty sure what Dieter and Ian were actually discussing, and how it would have to be done to get the power they required, it looked as if the only one of the others who had picked up on just how bad that was going to be, and what it would mean for the participants, was Tone. My respect for him increased markedly as I saw his reaction, because after all, it was pretty much the same as mine.
The main thing we had going for us, is that Ian and I, and Thorsten and Dieter did all have a shared framework in which to work, albeit that only three of us were initiates of it - Ian just knew the theory. It was just that I'm not sure any of us but Dieter had ever taken it to its darkest and bloodiest ends.
I hadn't realised that I'd vocalised that thought until Ian looked over at me in surprise, and I cursed inwardly. Of course, I'd never told him openly, that I had been initiated into the Thule Group on Halloween 1980, even if I wasn't an active member of it.
"I vote against Ben and for pre-emptive." Dave said, quietly, attracting Ian's attention before he could interrogate me in front of the others.
"As do I," my father answered, looking over at his cousin, and one by one, the others indicated their agreement. In the end I had little choice but to add mine.
"Ritual is you, me, Dieter and Wolf," Ian commented to my son, "they either support or watch our backs. Or maybe watch Random's army to see if this works. Someone should also warn Gregor and Rambault"
"My uncle is capable," Erik protested, hotly, in response to a defamatory comment from Thorsten regarding Matthew.
"Capable but squeamish, it would seem," Edward answered, mildly, "And he is young at heart for what is being asked."
"I never said he wasn't capable," Ian said, quietly to Erik, in full paternal mode, "but in this... I would not make him do this. I would not ask anyone I consider a friend to do this. The four of us are going into this with our eyes open. Even me."
I wanted to scream at him. What about me? Don't I get a choice? Aren't I a friend? But I bit my lip and held my peace until we were alone.
"We will use the facilities at the Wewelsburg," Dieter offered, "and the others can be with the crowds as grounding."
"Understood," came my father's reply, and then they settled down to discuss specifics.
I lost track of how long they talked, but in the end we went our separate ways. Dieter made sure Ian and I were escorted to a shared suite in his own official residence, but it wasn't until we were alone, that I was able to vent my fury.
"What the fuck were you thinking?" I shouted, going from rational to incandescent in milliseconds.
"You have NO right to get up on your high horse, Wolfgang," he answered, angrily, "it's becoming pretty bloody apparent to me that you've been in bed with Dieter since 1980. You embraced your return to the SS. You relish your association with him. And downstairs, you basically came out and said that you're a member of the Thule Group. You've probably done this before, and more..."
"No, you son of a bitch. I haven't," I answered, and I landed a roundhouse punch on his jaw.
He dropped to his backside like a stone, then sat there looking up on me in shock, as a bruise started purpling on his jaw.
"You sanctimonious bastard," I said, glaring at him, "don't you know me better than that?"
"I know that the moment you arrived, it was 'Yes Herr Oberstgruppenführer', 'No Herr Oberstgruppenführer'. It was embarrassing."
"Embarrassing?" I snarled, "embarrassing? Fuck you Ian. You never did understand."
And I launched a kick at him which caught him on the right side, just above the lower back, and sent him sprawling. It was when I heard the ribs break, that I froze, and realised what I'd done. I'd known for a while that I was both faster and stronger than him in combat, but I'd not realised quite by how much before. My anger drained out of me instantly.
"Oh Christ," I said, and dropped to a sitting position on the floor beside him. He just lay there on his left side, obviously in pain and trying not to pass out, "let me get a medic."
"And explain this to them how?" he said, quietly, between gritted teeth.
"I've seen you heal before...can you do that to yourself?"
"Not right now," he answered, "couldn't concentrate."
"Ah, shit..." I said, quietly, and just sat there, hand on his shoulder, put myself into a trance and tried to help him breath.
At which point, there was a knock on the door.
"Not now," I yelled.
"Is everything alright?" came a female voice that I half recognised, but couldn't place, and I realised that whatever Ian had said, he needed help.
"We need a medic," I answered, "now."
Silence. But I thought I heard female footsteps walking away, and a few minutes later, I heard the sound of running feet, and the door opened. An SS medic came in and crossed to where we were sitting. I was just getting to my feet, when Dieter appeared in the doorway. And beside him was the last person I'd expected to see.
Marina Acker.
If I'd ever had suspicions that my father's on-again off-again lover was linked to Dieter, they were confirmed in that instant. How had I never seen the resemblance between them before?
"Report, Hauptsturmführer Ulrich," Dieter ordered, crisply.
"My father and I had a disagreement, Herr Oberstgruppenführer."
"So I see. Marina, stay with Ian. Wolfgang, with me."
"Yes, papa," she said, quietly, and came over to help the medic.
I was torn. I didn't want to leave him quite so vulnerable, but on the other hand, Dieter's look towards me did not brook argument. With a last glance at my father, I crossed to my grandfather and followed him out. He strode quickly down the corridor, and I could sense the anger driving him as he walked. However, he stayed silent until we entered his private office. Then he walked behind the desk, not indicating for me to sit, and looked at me, his eyes cold. I remained on my feet, hands behind my back, and slipped into an at-ease stance.
"What were you thinking?" he asked, his tone dangerously quiet.
"I was angry with him."
"So I see. The question is why?"
"When he asked me to come here, I had no idea what he had in mind."
"Do you not think that Random's forces need to be destroyed."
"Of course, but..."
"But what?" he said, coldly.
"When we attacked Rebma, we didn't do it like this. This is wrong."
"No, Wolfgang. It is necessary. What I am most surprised at, is that your father understood that, and sought my counsel."
"Your counsel involves us murdering innocent people."
"And of course, neither of you have ever done that before?" he said mildly, and I felt cold, "Oh, wait...how much of the Rebman population died? And many of those were non-combatants. And then there was Eglizi..."
Just at that moment, I couldn't look him in the eye.
"But here, we are talking about a military force, with few civilian hangers on, which is a clear and present danger to the reign we all hope your other grandfather will soon begin."
I lifted my head and stared straight back at him, trying to keep my face expressionless.
"No, what bothers you is that it involves sacrificing innocent people." The stress on the word 'sacrifice' was obvious.
I held my peace, thoughts whirling in my mind.
"Or perhaps it is more subtle than that. Perhaps it is the fact that your father is willing to sacrifice innocent people."
I didn't move.
"Oh child of my child," he said, his tone noticeably softer, "it is always a hard day when we learn that those we hold dear and revere as the better part of ourselves prove to be merely human."
"There has to be another way."
"If Amber and its allies already had forces which could counter Random, possibly. But they don't. Ian and the others came here for my help, but even I don't have the forces to offer. Why would I have? I already own this world."
"There was the other weapon they were discussing. Benedict's installation."
"Your father would never have allowed that. He is too fond of that idiot Matthew to risk the consequences to him."
"So he chose, instead, to ignore the consequences to me," I snapped, and regretted it the moment I'd said it.
"Ah, finally we reach the hub of the problem," he said, quietly, and finally gestured for me to sit. Then he pulled a bottle of Schnapps and two glasses out of his desk drawer and poured for us both. I downed mine almost instantly, but he didn't offer to refill it.
"You love your father...I've known that since you came to Berlin for him, all those years ago. But right now, you're wondering if he still reciprocates."
I looked at him, then nodded.
"Breaking his ribs probably isn't going to help that."
"I lost control."
"So I see. However, hopefully Marina will help ease that pain at least."
"How long have you known...?"
"That they're lovers? For a long time. I know it started when Mikael Cuijper was in Berlin, although not exactly when, but I've been aware of the relationship between them for a while. It's actually been entertaining to watch as they tried to make sure I didn't find out. But given how well he and I have got on in the past..."
"Does he know she's your daughter?"
"I think he suspects, otherwise why all the creeping around? Face it, Wolfgang, with the notable exception of his cursed wife, your father has a 'type' when it comes to women."
"I'm well aware of that."
"Are you also aware that in a previous life, the soul that now resides in the body of Marina Acker was that of your mother, Greta von Ansbach?"
I looked at him, not sure whether to believe him or if he was playing with me. And yet it explained so much. I'd never understood what Ian had seen in Marina - they were enemies as often as they were allies - but I also knew they had been drawn to each other like moths to a flame almost from the first moment they met. Probably the only soul which could have had more power over him than my mother's, would have been Audrey's.
"How is that possible? Both so soon, and to the same family?"
"Perhaps Karma was feeling kind, given that she was an innocent whose life was cut short too early," he answered, his tone pensive.
"How did you find out? About her? About them?"
"A father always watches out for his daughter," came the reply, "you should know that as well as I. But I will grant them this. At least they've been more subtle this time around. And maybe, after what we have to do here is done, he will consider making an honest woman of her. His imminent ascension to the highest echelons of power in Amber, and his actions today, have proven to me that he has finally become worthy of her."
"By selling his soul to you."
"By realising that his duty as Crown Prince Presumptive takes precedent over his personal principles. And after all, what father would not welcome the prospect of his daughter marrying someone of such high status. What you need to decide, is whether you back him in what he has proposed here - and by extension, his position in the new regime - or whether you walk away."
"As I see it, I don't have a choice."
"Of course you have a choice. Despite what you might think of me, even I would not force someone down this path unwillingly. The decision has to be yours. If you choose not to join us, I will find someone else to take the fourth quarter, and let you stay here in Berlin with your compatriots. Your link to him would make a good focus for the power we will be generating, so you would still be acting for Amber, but your soul would be clean."
"Who would you ask? Marina?"
"No," he said, with a shake of his head, "I have never involved her in the darker side of what I need to do, either here or on Tenterden. I love my daughter, Wolfgang. You don't do that to people you love."
"And yet he did it to me."
"Perhaps you need to ask him about that, rather than kick the shit out of him," he said, mildly, but I could feel the rebuke nonetheless, "Let me know your decision this evening, before we leave for Paderborn."
"Yes, Herr Oberstgruppenführer."
"Oh, and one last thing."
"Sir?"
"You're out of uniform. Make sure that you have rectified that before we leave. Dismissed."
I got to my feet, saluted, and then walked out of his office, whereupon a private fell into step beside me, and guided me back to our quarters. As I entered, the sounds from Ian's room made it quite clear that Marina was helping with his recovery in every way. There's an old adage that while you know intellectually that your parents must have had sex at least once, it's different when you're faced with it.
I turned around and went for a walk.
* * * * * *
When I got back, a couple of hours later, it was quiet in the suite. I headed for my room, where I found a set of feldgrau waiting for me, and a dress uniform hanging in the cupboard. What surprised me about both was the collar insignia. Instead of three pips and a bar, they were now single oak leaves, as Thorsten's had been.
I had just finished changing, when I heard a knock at the door.
"Come," I said, as I hung the Honour Dagger at my belt, and slipped the Ehrenring on my finger - putting the adept ring in my breast pocket - and then turned to see my father. The bruise was obvious on his jaw, and he was moving gingerly. As he saw me, I saw a strange expression cross his face. But then, from what he'd said, the last time he'd seen me dressed as an SS officer, I had been in my coffin.
"Are you going to tell me what that was about?" he asked, quietly, as he leaned against the door frame for support.
"Do you need to ask?" I answered, meeting his gaze.
"Actually, yes. Because I genuinely don't have a fucking clue."
"What was it you said to Dieter? 'I'm willing to sell my soul for this, but don't make them do it'."
"It's true."
"So what about my soul?"
"Apparently you're already a Thulist anyway," he answered, coldly.
"And yet, when I've worked with the Lyminge Group...or privately with you...have you felt ANY indication that I have been tainted by Black Magic?"
He looked at me, and I saw doubt on his face for the first time.
"Do you know why I was initiated into the mysteries of the Thule Gesellschaft?"
"I assume because you're his grandson."
"That's only part of the story."
"So...enlighten me."
"It was part of the ceremony on Halloween. After I gave myself for you. That was the only time I have ever participated with his ceremonies."
"But you've maintained links with him..." he protested, and I could feel that he'd moved from accusation to self-justification.
"As my grandfather, yes. As his subordinate, yes. But never as part of the Thule rituals."
"But look at you," he said, quietly, "you're even dressed like one of them - and seem to have been promoted since I last saw that bloody uniform."
"I'm a serving officer. We're about to transfer to a military installation. So don't be so bloody sanctimonious, and consider what he has in mind for you when you get there."
"I'm not SS."
"But you've volunteered to participate in a sacrificial ritual, under the rites of the Thule Gesellschaft. How do you think he's going to play that."
"He can't force me to do something I don't want to do."
"I never thought you would want to do this. For Christ's sake, how many of your high and mighty principles are you compromising right now?"
"There's no other way."
"Yes, there is, but you didn't want to take it. You didn't want to imperil Matthew's soul...but apparently you had no such qualms about mine. I've spent all these years actually giving a damn about you, and thinking you gave a damn about me. But now, I'm not so sure."
"But..."
"But nothing, Ian. I ask again, have you ever had any reason to believe that I have practised Black Magic?"
He paused for a few moments too long, before answering "No". His tone was flat and he looked downwards as he said it.
"You didn't even know I was a Thule initiate until four hours ago. And yet that piece of knowledge seems to have helped you decide that it's okay to take me down the same path you've chosen. Once this is done, you and I can both be classified as Black Magicians. How is the Group going to take that from their Man in Black?"
Maybe this time the point had sunk home. I saw doubt replaced by realisation, and within moments he was standing rather less tall.
"I knew what I was doing when I proposed this to Dieter," he said quietly, "I should have realised how bringing you here would affect you."
"Yes you fucking well should."
"What can I do to make this up to you?"
"Right now, I cannot think of a single thing."
"In my defence, I really don't see another way to deliver a knock-out blow which will take Random's army out of the game."
"That was your justification for Rebma, too...and yet here we are, with Random still in the game. The only consolation is that at least this time the target isn't innocent women and children."
"I'm not proud of Rebma, but it was necessary."
"Then why not repeat what we did there? It didn't involve sacrifice. And while it was certainly in the Grey zone of magic, at least it wasn't out and out Black. Not like giving yourself over to Dieter will be."
"Rebma worked because of the volcano. We don't have that option here, and without it, the effect would have been significantly less."
"As would the collateral damage."
"Is that how you see yourself? Collateral damage?"
"I'm wondering if it's how you see me," I answered.
"Never," he replied, quietly, "you're my son. And I thought you were my friend."
"As I did you."
"I'm sorry," he said, and I saw him hang his head. And that was the point at which I realised that I'd finally got through to him, and he was ashamed.
"What is it Sun Tzu says? 'To capture the enemy's entire army is better than to destroy it; to take intact a regiment, a company, or a squad is better than to destroy them.' "
"Finish the phrase," he answered, "'To subdue the enemy without fighting is the supreme excellence.' Isn't that what we're proposing?"
"By massacring every damned one of them from afar."
"Get this in your head, Wolf," he snapped, with more of his previous bravado back in his voice, "Random has already shown that he is quite willing to do ANYTHING for the Throne. That includes starting a civil war, and bombarding Amber City and the surrounding countryside, with no care for loss of innocent life. Is what we're proposing really any worse than that?"
"If it involves a sacrificial ritual for the power to do it? Yes."
"Do you really believe I want to do that?" he answered.
"It's a step you seem willing to take."
"Willing is not the same as wanting. I know the line I'm about to cross. And the irony hasn't escaped me that I've asked Dieter to help me do the exact same thing I ended up fighting to stop barely a few weeks ago."
"You've changed since you started spending more time in Amber, and I'm not sure it's for the better. And right now, I think this whole 'Crown Prince' thing has gone to your head."
"If this kills me, then you'll be in Bleys's heir. And then, perhaps you should consider what you would do to help him keep his Throne."
"Maybe I don't think keeping him on the Throne is worth the price of losing my father."
He looked at me for a moment, and then moved towards me and caught me in a bear hug, although as he did, I heard him take a sharp intake of breath from the pain.
"You're right. I shouldn't have dragged you into this. I'm sorry."
"So am I," I said, quietly, and we stepped apart.
We regarded each other in silence for a few moments, before our reverie was broken by a knock at the suite door. I went to answer it, while he moved cautiously to his own suite. At the door was a Scharführer, looking slightly nervous.
"Standartenführer Ulrich. The Führer's compliments. He requests that you and Herr Major Cushing join him in at the rear carriage porch at your earliest convenience. A car has been prepared to take you to the Wewelsburg."
"We will be there as ordered."
"Sir," he said, with a click of the heels and a sharp salute, and headed off down the corridor. I watched him go, then went back into my rooms to pack my meagre things, before going to find Ian. He was sitting on the edge of the - rather crumpled - bed, and looked to be casting a pain relief cantrip.
"You still can't heal yourself?"
"For some reason it doesn't seem to be working," he answered, "maybe I overextended with Geran and Dara."
"He's ready for us."
He nodded, and got carefully to his feet.
"Gods, were you wearing steel-capped boots?"
"I guess I didn't appreciate my own strength."
"Remind me not to piss you off again."
"I'd rather remind you not to give me cause," I answered, and he gave a slight nod, then I changed the subject as I offered him a surreptitious shoulder to lean on, "How was Marina?"
"Let's say I didn't expect to see her here."
"If it's any consolation, her father appears to have given your relationship his blessing. Obviously the prospect of her catching a Crown Prince is more important to him than the fact that he hated you for a long, long time."
"Believe me, after the deb meat I saw in Amber, the prospect of settling down with the lovely Fraulein Acker is more attractive than it has been for a long time," he said, with a wry smile, then added, more curious, "he actually admitted she was his daughter?"
"Among other things."
"What other things?"
"Probably not mine to share," I answered, but I realised that a small part of me actually found the idea that my parents might actually finally be reunited, albeit in a somewhat odd way, rather intriguing. Although the fact that I was nearly twenty years older than she was, Tenterden time, let alone anything else, would take some getting used to if they did get together on a more permanent basis.
We made our way carefully down to the carriage porch, where Dieter - now in SS feldgrau, but with collar tabs I'd never seen before, incorporating the wreath and oak leaves of the RFSS with a silver bar below them, indicating a higher rank - was waiting for us. He was leaning against the Führal car, a big, seven-seater armoured Merc which made the one he had on Tenterden look like a Ford Fiesta. Thorsten was hovering behind him like an overeager schoolboy, but smiled as he saw me. I nodded to him, still trying to figure out who had told him I was his father. I knew it hadn't been either of us.
"So are you coming with us, Standartenführer Ulrich?" Dieter asked, as he saw me. I glanced at him, and then at Ian, and then gave a shallow nod. He smiled in response.
"Good."
I helped Ian into the back seat, and was moving to join him when Dieter indicated the front. Dutifully, the driver handed me the keys, before moving over to the passenger seat.
"It seems traditional," he commented to me, as he climbed in beside Ian, leaving Thorsten to take one of the rear-facing seats opposite him. "I'm sure you remember the way."
"As long as the Autobahn system is the same here as it is on Tenterden," I answered, and climbed behind the wheel.
I shaved about ten minutes off my previous transit time.
The Wewelsburg looked as forbidding as ever. Here, though, all the towers were finished, and the place looked more lived in than even its equivalent on Tenterden. I climbed out of the car, to be joined by my grandfather, and handed the keys back to his driver. As I did, a swarm of SS guards came in to take defensive positions around us.
"Here, I don't have to worry about having Führer Heydrich looking over my shoulder and wondering what I'm up to," he said, as he read my expression, "as they say, it's good to be the King."
Thorsten stepped out of the car, and then Dieter indicated for one of the men to help Ian. My father looked pensive, especially as he glanced up at the towers of the building he had hated for so long. During the drive, when I'd looked in the rear view mirror, he'd seemed to be dozing, but now he was alert, although I could spot the pain in his features. That's the trouble with broken ribs - all you can do is strap them up. For the first time, I felt a twinge of regret at what I'd done to him.
Dieter led the three of us through into the West Tower, where a library remarkably similar to the one on Tenterden was located. Then he indicated for us to sit.
"Perhaps I should outline what I have in mind," he said, and I noted that Ian didn't protest when he realised that Dieter had taken the reins of this from him. That either meant he was resigned to what was happening, or he hurt too much to protest.
Then Dieter directly addressed my father directly. "First, Mein Kusin, this evening you need to join us. It won't be a full initiation, as I rather doubt that you would be willing to accept the tenets of our oaths, but it will need to be enough so that you can work in our tradition, in our temple, without our gods smiting you for your presumption."
"I understand," he answered, quietly, but it was obvious that he didn't like it. His hazel eyes were dull with pain, and with the realisation of exactly what he was doing. Maybe the fact that we were actually in the Wewelsburg had brought it home to him better than I ever could have.
"I also suspect that you will not want to use the trappings of your membership of the Lyminge Group for this, so alternatives will be provided. Tomorrow, we will define the ritual we will use. Better that, than trying to make it up as we go along. I have already sent instructions to the Kommandant of Niederhagen to find some suitable candidates to assist us. I have specified that they should be of a certain build and colouring, and should be guilty of actual crimes."
"Boo-rah," Ian said, quietly, but Dieter chose to ignore him.
"The rally will be the following afternoon. I've decided to call it the Second Blood Banner Day, and attendance will be mandatory, to maximise the potential power we can harness to boost our own Work. I propose that we spend the morning preparing the temple area and making sure everything is in order. We will time the ritual itself - and it's final conclusion - to co-ordinate with what is happening in Berlin, and in the meantime I will have people observing the target area, so we know when the boy reaches your other cousins to warn them. Any questions?"
I had so many, and yet I didn't feel I could ask any of them.
"What about the people in Berlin? Will they be harmed?" Ian asked.
"No, they will purely be an energy focus for us," Dieter replied, looking at him, "All the power will be generated here. You're not having second thoughts, I trust?"
My father answered with a small shake of his head, but I for one wasn't convinced.
"Good. Then after a last couple of pieces of admin, you are both free to move around the castle. However, please be back here by ten this evening. Dress uniforms."
"Admin?" Thorsten asked, and I realised that his silence had been due to nervousness. I brought up my sight, and saw that despite being an experienced ritual mage, he, like Ian and myself, had not been involved in something of this nature before.
"For them, not you. Nothing for you to concern yourself with," Dieter replied, "why don't you wait outside. And then perhaps, once we're done here, you can spend the rest of the day with your father, while I speak with Cousin Ian."
"Yes, Mein Führer," he answered, before obediently getting to his feet and leaving.
"Admin?" I echoed, and I saw Dieter smile.
"This is for you," he answered, and slipped an envelope out of the breast pocket of his uniform jacket. It looked like military orders, but bore the Seal of the Office of the Führer. I took it and slit the wax open, then took out the contents. As I scanned it through, I realised that it was notice of a Commission in my name at the rank of Standartenführer in the Germania Ahnenerbe. He had even missed out the 'Dietrich' I no longer used. There was a note at the bottom which clarified that this superseded any other ranks and oaths I may have made in any similar organisation. He was cutting me loose of the influence of the powers that be on Tenterden, and placing me under his direct and sole command.
"And this, is for you," he continued, turning his attention to Ian, and passed a small jewellery box to him, "Your Highness."
The significance of the title wasn't missed on either of us, although I suspect I masked my surprise better than he did. Then he took the box, curious, and flipped it open.
"What the Hell?" he said, as he took what looked like a lapel pin out of the box. Three silver oak leaves. I recognised it for what it was - high-level SS honorary rank insignia - but I was pretty sure he didn't. Perhaps I'd tell him eventually. When I was less pissed off at him.
"This is a military installation. That gives you the right to be here. If you choose not to wear it, then I will be required to keep you under house arrest in the quarters you will be assigned for the duration of your stay. However, as the whole point of this exercise is mutual co-operation to support your father, I would rather not do that. I doubt he would be impressed if I arrested his son and heir again, and I suspect the recognition he has accorded me as a member of the Family of Amber would evaporate about thirty seconds after he found out."
Ian took a deep breath, muttering "in for a penny", and pinned the insignia to his lapel.
"On which note, the next place you ought to go is the infirmary. We have healing mages who may be able to help you."
Ian nodded and got to his feet. Dieter and I followed suit, and one by one we filed out of the room. Thorsten was waiting outside and fell into step beside me, whereupon he began burbling excitedly about being here, and what ideas he had for the ceremony. I just couldn't help feeling that thus far he hadn't actually taken in the bit about sacrifice. As I headed down the corridor, I saw Ian and Dieter fall into step beside each other, and soon they were gone.
* * * * * *
When we reassembled at ten PM, Ian seemed to be breathing more easily, although it was obvious that he was still favouring his injured side. I also noted that the ankh charm he habitually wore on a leather thong around his neck was missing, and he had no other form of occult paraphernalia on him at all.
"Apparently, healing mages can't do shit to you when you're kicked in the ribs by your favourite son," he commented to me as he saw me, "thank you for teaching me this new lesson."
"Just remember not to get angry at Bleys," I said, with a weak smile, "you'd probably be done for treason."
"Don't even go there..." he began, but broke off when Thorsten and Dieter came in.
"Are you ready?" my grandfather said to Ian.
"Not really...but that isn't going to change anything."
"Not if this is going to work. Let's head down to the chapel."
Dieter had obviously thought everything through with his usual efficiency. When we reached the small working chamber, off the crypt, below the Gruppenführersaal, candles were already burning. But only the four of us were present.
"Wolfgang, please take position as your father's sponsor," he said, "Thorsten, you help me."
And he began intoning the rite. It was simpler than the one he had used when he had initiated me, and he kept his word that he would limit the oaths to the minimum, to whit that Ian not share any of the details of the rites and ceremonies of the Thule Gesellschaft, on pain of death. I was still relieved when my father repeated the oath though, as I more than half expected him to balk at the whole thing.
The oath taking was followed by a section of the ritual which in my case had happened separately, the presentation of an Ehrenring and an SS Honour Dagger, and the cutting of palms and exchange of blood between him and Dieter. He took that calmly, but then again, they had done something similar when we had worked to defeat the hurricane which Random had sent against Amber. However, this time I saw a shudder run through my father's frame, and I realised that I had felt the initiation "take". No doubt he had as well, as I saw an expression of self-loathing cross his face.
The final phase involved the taking of his measure, in a way not dissimilar to the method used by the Lyminge Group. Initially, I actually thought he was going to refuse, but when I offered to do that instead of Dieter, he accepted it from me. Then I sealed the end with the blood from his still weeping hand, and rolled the skein and tied it.
"Give it to him," Dieter commanded, quietly, and as I passed it to Ian, I felt his relief. At least that was one arcane connection to him that he wouldn't have to destroy remotely.
Then, with the final admonitions not to betray what had passed that night, or to reveal any of the Society's ceremonies, it was finished, and we headed back upstairs. However, as we walked, I could tell that Ian was exhausted, both mentally and physically.
Marina was waiting for us in the small ante-chamber beside the Gruppenführersaal, and when she saw him, she crossed to him, and put her arm over his shoulder. The gesture seemed tender, rather than sexual.
"Don't worry, Wolfgang," she said, looking at me, "I'll look after him."
"If you take advantage of him, I will come after you," I said, quietly, and after our eyes met for a brief moment, she nodded.
"Not tonight, at least," she said, with a half-smile, and they left the room.
"Are you satisfied that I did not do anything to him during the rite, of which you would not approve," Dieter asked me.
"I am. Although I'll admit I was surprised it took so easily."
"So was I," he answered, with a slight shrug, "maybe he is more like me than either of us had realised. I'll see you in the morning...and as always, please feel free to make full use of the facilities of this place."
I didn't see any point arguing. Instead I just nodded respectfully to him, and then headed back to my quarters. I decided not to throw out the beautiful Rhine maiden who was waiting for me when I arrived. What the Hell, if my father had no shame, then why should I? And it was a good way of relieving the tension which had been building up since I'd arrived in Dieter's office that morning.
* * * * * *
The following day, Ian actually seemed better. He was walking more easily, and he appeared to have finally relaxed, albeit I could tell from his eyes that he was still challenged by what he'd decided to do. He'd also been provided with a change of clothes from somewhere - a grey open-necked shirt and dark trousers. The pin shone in his lapel, the ring was on his finger, and the dagger he'd been given the night before was tucked in a sheath at his lower back, which had been padded so that it didn't knock the bruising from my ill-advised actions.
We met for breakfast, and then adjourned to the West Tower to work. I might have even enjoyed the discussion with three ritualists who were all my superiors in the craft, if I hadn't known that at the root of it all, we were going to be ending the lives of four people to serve our own ends. Somewhere during the morning, it became apparent that Thorsten had also become aware of that, and for the rest of the day he seemed quieter, and more subdued, although he gamely attempted to say involved in the conversation. I felt for him. Despite his upbringing, and his immersion in Dieter's world almost from the beginning, no child of nineteen should have to deal with all of this.
We were discussing which quarters we should each take - Dieter at North, Ian at South, me at East, Thorsten at West as it turned out - when Dieter was called away for a short while. When he came back, he seemed satisfied.
"The last components have arrived," he said, quietly, and without further reference to his meeting, we continued our planning. However, I still couldn't shake myself of the feeling that what we were doing was utterly and fundamentally wrong. Maybe Ian was becoming reconciled, but I certainly wasn't.
We went to bed early that night, with the intention of rising at 6am, to start the final preparations.
The following morning, I couldn't stomach anything more than coffee for breakfast, before joining the others in the West Tower library. This time, instead of the small room off the crypt under the Gruppenführersaal, Dieter took us deeper under the castle, to a room with an earthen floor. As I entered, I felt a shiver run down my spine. The warding here was dark - far darker than anywhere else in the castle - and I knew this was the Inner Sanctum for the blacker rites of the Thule Gesellschaft. It was also the equivalent to the room where I had nearly died, back on Tenterden. I glanced over at Ian, to see that his face had gone dead white, and he looked decidedly nauseous.
"Twelve hours, and it will be over," Dieter said to him, quietly, "remember that."
But it was obvious to me that Ian wanted to spend those twelve hours anywhere else. He was losing his nerve. Part of me wanted to reach over, grab him and teleport the pair of us the Hell away. However, another part of me knew that if I did that, then God knows what consequences Dieter would bring down on the heads of the others in Berlin, let alone us. I didn't want to do this anymore than he did, but we'd reached the point of no return.
We worked in silence, leaving it to Dieter and Thorsten to do the verbal elements of the systems and patterns we were setting up. It took several hours, and then Dieter called a break and a light lunch, so we would have the energy for the work we would do that afternoon.
We returned to the chamber at around 2pm, once we'd heard from Dieter's scrying team that Tone had made contact with Rambault and Gergor, to discover that the prisoners had been delivered. What I didn't expect, was how like Random each one looked. I wasn't sure if that made this easier or harder.
"Sympathetic magic, presumably," Ian said to him.
"Indeed. And to help us remember where to focus our hate."
Given their history, perhaps it was a sensible precaution.
The prisoners had all been bound hand and foot, and had been drugged, so their heads lolled to the side. Each had been placed on a low table, such that they would be at roughly hand height when the time came. Despite the fact that Dieter had assured us that they were criminals, I couldn't help myself from saying a quiet prayer to the Lord for each of their souls, and for forgiveness for what we were about to do. Maybe Dieter realised what I was doing, because as I finished I felt his eyes on me and turned towards him. Our eyes met, and as they did, I saw that his face was tinged with a trace of disappointment. Then he broke the contact and turned away.
"Strip, put these on, and we will begin," he commanded, passing dark claret robes to each of us, and he began changing. Neither Ian nor myself are normally that modest when with the Group, but here...I found myself wishing for privacy as I did as I was ordered. Then, once we were ready, our bare feet in contact with the earth, our things were taken away and placed to one side.
A short while later the four of us were joined by twelve others, all of them robed like us, who formed a larger circle around us. Dieter had mentioned that he would be bringing others in to support and protect us while we worked - the usual members of his Lodge. The energy we generated from our part in this, would be transmitted by them to a similar group in Berlin, who would then focus it with the energies from the rally, and send it on bound, with the help of Edward and the others.
We took our places at the quarters, looking inwards, and once we had indicated our readiness, we began.
There is a rush to working large-scale magic which it's hard to describe. It happens so rarely - most of the work of the Group is far smaller in scale, and when we're alone everything is more personal - that it's easy to get caught up in the cadences and nuances. To my shame, despite knowing the ultimate aim of what we were doing, I felt myself engage with the process and put my all into making it work. What I didn't expect was the pure burst of power when the fatal moment came. The energy released into the circle was phenomenal, and it was all I could do to control it, then help Ian, Thorsten and Dieter bind it and send it on its way.
Other people have written about how close sex and death are in the way they affect you, but I'd never truly understood it before. However, as the power coursed through me, it was like the strongest release I had ever experienced; way better than the best high I had ever had (and in the day, I've had a few). It seemed to last for hours - although in actuality it probably wasn't any more than a few minutes - and as the last dregs of the power faded, I found myself shaking. It was like drug withdrawal, and I knew I wanted to do this again, and again, and again.
What brought me back was a firm slap in the face, and then the feeling of hands on either side of my head, forcing me to look up. I found myself staring into Ian's face, mere inches from my own, and could feel him imposing his will on me and trying to bring me down.
"It's over," he said, urgently, "snap out of it. Wolf, come back..."
And I felt him help me ground out and centre.
"Are you back?" he asked, as he felt me relax, and I gave a slight nod of my head. "Thanks the gods."
"What happened?"
"The power is seductive," Dieter answered, "you let yourself go to it."
"Might have been nice if that had been in the manual," I said to him, icily, still buzzing from the aftereffects.
"I warned you while we were planning. You either control this kind of ritual, or it controls you."
"I suppose I just didn't understand what that meant. Is Thorsten okay?"
"He, like you, is inexperienced in working at this scale. But he will be fine."
"And Ian?"
"Is my equal as a ritual magician."
I glanced at my father for his reaction to that assessment, but his face was completely neutral. However, somehow I could tell that inside he was hurting, and not just physically.
"Are you alright," he said to me.
"Not really. Did it work?"
"Indications are currently that nearly 90% of the target has been destroyed."
I knew I ought to celebrate, but in my heart, I felt cold and empty. Instead, I glanced around me, and saw the bodies, and the blood, which the twelve helpers were beginning to clear away. Then I looked down at my hands and saw blood on them as well. And the robe I was wearing was now stained, instead of clean.
"What have we done?" I said quietly, to my father.
"What we had to," he answered, but I could tell he was trying to convince himself, rather than me.
"We should go," Dieter said, his tone surprisingly gentle, and Ian nodded. Then they began walking towards where our clothes and been left, and picked them up. I fell into step behind them, my son beside me, and I could see that he, like myself, had been affected by what we had done. However, in his case, I saw pride in his bearing, rather than shame. I wanted to take him in my arms and hug him, to make it all alright again, but I knew I couldn't do that, because he thought what he'd done was right.
Fatherhood can hurt like Hell.
"I would suggest that you both stay here tonight," Dieter advised, "you probably think you're okay at the moment, but it's better to be sure."
"I agree," Ian answered, then glanced over at me, "Wolf?"
In truth, it was the last thing I wanted. My reaction had scared the shit out of me, and I knew that I was consciously having to stop myself shaking. However, I was also exhausted, and wanted a long, hot bath to wash the blood from both my body and my soul. So in the end I just nodded. Then I picked up my bundle of clothes, laid the dagger on the top of them, and followed the others upstairs.
No-one stared at us as we walked through the castle.
* * * * * *
Once I was back in my suite, I stripped off the bloody robe, and then drew myself a long, hot bath. I noted that candles and herbs had been provided, and made liberal use of both, then tried to relax into the steaming water, which I'd probably run hotter than I should have done. In my mind, I tried to reach out to the God I worship, and the powers I revere with the Group, and ask forgiveness for what I'd done. But the words just wouldn't come, and in the end I gave up trying.
A couple of hours later, long after I had dried off and dressed in the jeans and Windsor shirt I'd been wearing when Ian had first called me, there was a knock at the door. I put down the book I'd grabbed from the shelf - a brainless propaganda piece about Dagmar, heroine of the Reich - and crossed to the doorway. Ian was standing on the threshold, dressed in light cotton trousers and a linen shirt, a bottle of Schnapps and two glasses in his hands. I noticed the rank pin was still in his lapel, but he was no longer wearing either dagger or ring.
"Can I come in?"
"Not with the lovely Marina tonight?" I asked, trying not to sound petulant, but standing back and letting him in.
"Not until later," he replied, as he came in and grabbed one of the seats in the lounge, then picked up the book I'd been reading.
"Dagmar versus the SOE? Really?"
"She gets a run for her money from the handsome Agent Gawain, both in the field and...elsewhere. But she gets the better of him in the end," I answered, with a chuckle, as I sat opposite him.
"Of course she does," he said, with a wry smile, "it's propaganda."
"It's better than trying to go to sleep."
"Boy do I know that one," he said, and poured us both a glass. It was raspberry, from the taste as we downed the first shots in one. Somehow that seems to be the right way to drink Schnapps.
"So what are these things?" he asked, finally indicating the pin, "last night I realised that the pendant Marina usually wears is of a very similar design."
"The insignia of an Honorary Brigadeführer in the SS," I answers, with a straight face.
"Oh, you have to be kidding." The look of astonishment on his face was almost comical. "He made me an officer in your bloody regiment?"
"Not exactly...it's something which is in his gift for those he trusts or wishes to reward...or in your case, keep alive here in the Wewelsburg. Himmler had a similar system."
"You can bet that I'll be pitching it in the bin the moment we get out of here."
"Actually, you might want to think twice about doing that," I suggested, cautiously, "especially if you want to stay in his good graces. You do, after all, have carnal designs on his daughter. Chances are, this won't be the last time you visit Germania."
He looked at me, almost pouting, but at least he didn't rip them out of his lapel. Instead he just harrumphed and poured us both another drink. This one we drank more slowly, enjoying a companionable silence.
"Mihai," I said, finally, "did we really do the right thing?"
"I have to believe we did," he answered, "that's about the only way I'm going to be able to live with myself."
"What about Bleys. How do you think he's going to take it?"
"I called him. He pretty much said 'good job son' and wanted to pin a medal on me. You too, if you stand still long enough. But you know, I really don't feel I deserve one. Not for this."
"I felt the same after Eglizi."
"I know," he said, his voice heavy with understanding.
I looked up at him, surprised at his tone.
"There's something I never told you about the lead-up to Kirishi. A few days before, Marina and I went to Eglizi."
"For God's sake why?"
"Scouting mission. It was where Ritter was staging. However, while I was there I...tapped into something. Maybe the psychic residue of what had happened. I saw the massacre, Wolf."
"That was not my proudest hour. In fact, until today, I would have said it was my basest."
"I know that. I saw it on your face as you walked away. I saw it on your face again today."
"I saw nothing in yours."
"Because I didn't want to show Dieter how I really felt."
"Do you know what's worse? After the rush, after the high...for the first time, I understand how a magician, ritual or otherwise, can walk away from the Light and embrace the Darkness. It's addictive."
"I think you got it worse than I did. But then, I've been doing this a lot longer than you have."
"Tone mentioned a soul price. I think he was right."
"I know he was."
"Can you and I still truly call ourselves servants of the Light?"
"I don't know. I'd like to think that we did what we did for the right reasons...but follow that line of reasoning too far, and that way leads damnation."
"Not helping."
"It's all I have tonight. Maybe tomorrow, things will be clearer. But at least it's something we can face together...if you will forgive me for what I've done to you?"
"Right now, I’m not sure I’m ready to do that," I said, quietly, noting his disappointment as I said it. But then, what did he expect? I paused, before adding, "that said, I let my emotions get the better of me, and I really hurt you. For that I'm sorry."
"You were really angry, and I deserved it. I should never have dragged you into this. But I was stupid, and I misunderstood what had happened between you and Dieter."
"Do you understand now?"
"I've seen more of him now. In very different circumstances to those I have ever seen him in before. He's a dangerously persuasive man."
"Just be careful. If you make an honest woman of Marina, he'll be your father-in-law.
"Sounds like an excellent reason to stay single," he said, with a chuckle, "although given the mutton dressed at lamb that was throwing itself at me the last time I was at breakfast in Amber, maybe Dieter would be the lesser of two evils."
"No."
"No?"
"No. Whatever else Dieter is, he is not the lesser of two evils. Look what he just persuaded you...us...to do. He said the power from sacrificial ritual was seductive, and he's right. That room had been used before. Many, many times."
"I know," Ian answered, quietly, "however, I'm coming to understand that he is what he is, and as long as we remember that, it's possible we can work with him again in the future."
"Let's hope the times are few and far between for that."
"I'll drink to that," he said, downing his glass and poured another. And with that, we lapsed into silence, and slowly and surely, drained the bottle between us.