A Summer Evening
Tenterden, August 2008
A warm, summer day in late-August, and it had been a busy couple of months. My own stay away in May seemed something of a distant memory, especially given Ian's concerns for Marina, and the arrival of the twins: almost six weeks early, and yet strangely inevitably, on Midsummer's Day. Since the twins had been allowed home, nearly three weeks after they were born, Ian and Marina had been busy being new parents, while I had been organising things for Soren's new school, ably abetted by Sylvia Dane, and helping them out where I could, in and around flying visits to Amber. After all, I'd at least been an involved father before, unlike Ian, and did have some useful advice on what that actually meant.
Not that he'd be playing football with either of the little ones any time soon.
Still, I enjoyed being with them all, and spending time with them - even if we didn't really have time to talk. However, it was something of a relief when my father brought home a cousin of ours, one of our many underutilised Helgram relatives, named Aoife, to help out with the twins on a more permanent basis.
Then, to add to the chaos, at the end of July, Dieter arrived to see his new grandchildren. Ian wasn't overjoyed to see him, especially given that he'd been up half the night before with his little girl, who had been unwell - she seemed the more fretful of the two - but he was as gracious a host as he could be under the circumstances. His attitude was probably helped by the fact that this time, my other grandfather hadn't shown up in full uniform with an entourage. Although he wasn't alone. With him were Blaine and, probably inevitably, Hauptsturmführer - no, make that Sturmbannführer - Heisel. Apparently she had been promoted after her five years of loyal...whatever the Hell it was, who would be joining us for the rest of the summer.
My other grandfather really seems pretty bloody serious about making sure that Katherine and I see a lot of each other, even though my views on getting married right now haven't changed.
He stayed with us for nearly a week, taking advantage of Tenterden's temporary fast time, without he and Ian trying to kill each other even once, and Marina was obviously pleased to see her father. Moreover, Artur called in on the 30th July, and with Dieter's approval and under the watchful eye of the Group, he performed the naming ceremony for Rowan Margitte and Linden Adam on Lammas Night, seamlessly blending elements of the SS tradition and that of the Lyminge Group in a way I wouldn't have thought possible. Watching him, and the ease with which he worked the two traditions together, led me to the conclusion that my little brother is fast becoming Ian's equal in ritual magic.
Maybe it's a seventh son thing, which would certainly explain Dieter's reticence as far as letting me know about Blaine was concerned.
Of course, Artur, being Artur, didn't explain how he happened to be in the neighbourhood just in time to stop by for Lammas, although reading between the lines, I got the impression that he was doing something in the GGR. However, he stayed for a few days, during which time I noticed that he and Ian seemed to be getting on a bit better than on Artur's previous visit. I really hope they find their feet with each other, as the more I see of my brother, the more certain I am that he and our father are far more alike than they are different.
Dieter headed back to Germania on the second, and Artur and Armand - who had come for the Lammas ceremony - departed on the morning of the third: Artur back to Berlin and Armand to Vienna. A couple of weeks later, I had the privilege of watching my son win Olympic gold in individual and team foil, and individual sabre. Ian and Artur joined me for the team foil final, and much celebratory drinking ensued that evening.
By the end of August we were home, and four children and seven adults including myself, Ian and Armand - who decided to let himself have a couple of weeks off, before heading back to Norfolk to continue with the Hawke Security set-up, now he'd found a deputy he could trust - meant that Wittersham House was suddenly more lively than it had been at any point since I'd come to live in England.
Thank God for Carmichael, to keep us all in order! That man is worth his weight in gold.
The upshot of it all was that I hadn't even had time to consider looking for Theodor, although I had put the blood sample I had been given away safely, so that no-one except me could find and use it. After all, when all was said and done, my lost son had already been missing for more than 40 years, and the chances of his situation - wherever he might be - becoming significantly worse in the immediate future, after all this time, were within acceptable risk limits. Especially with Tenterden running fast to Amber as Ian and Marina sorted things through.
Then finally, there came an evening when Ian and I could finally take a breath. Soren and Blaine were playing tennis, watched by Katharine and Sylvia. Soren was definitely the more physical of the two, and was already a good sportsman, while Blaine was the thinker. They made a scarily efficient team, not unlike Artur and Armand. Marina and Aoife were upstairs bathing Rowan and Linden, and putting them to bed; and Armand had headed up to London to see some of his ex-colleagues from the Embassy (presumably for more celebratory drinking, so I had made sure he had the key to my London flat, so that he wasn't tempted to try to drive home). Even Ava was enjoying the sunshine, stretched out warming herself on the porch balustrade and dozing contentedly.
So by mutual consent, Ian and I decided to share a pitcher of cold beer, and catch up.
"It's been one Hell of a summer," he commented, after we'd been sitting and chatting for about half an hour.
I'd been telling him about Bowring, as I hadn't really had a chance to do that since I got back, and some of what I'd been working on with Fiona, as well as Vienna. In return, he had been talking about life, Marina and everything. I still couldn't really figure out if they were actually in love with each other, but their relationship was certainly closer now they were married and living together than the arrangement they'd had for the preceding thirty-odd years. And it was obvious that they cared for each other.
Would they have got married without the intervention of their respective fathers? I wasn't sure, but for now at least it seemed to be working. And from my point of view, while it wasn't quite as if my own parents were back together again, every so often I caught glimpses of my mother in Marina, and that brought back some of the better memories of my own childhood.
"That it has," I answered, "but in a good way. Although probably being the proud father of a triple-gold medallist was the high spot."
"I can imagine. Were you ever an Olympian?"
"I never got the chance. I just missed qualifying in '56, and while I was hoping to get selected for '60, in the end it didn't happen. I had to stop swimming competitively after I moved to the Kripo, as the time involved it wasn't compatible with my job. A few years later, I was a lead contender for the pistol team in '68...but then I screwed up, fell out of favour and ended up posted to Bucharest, where the rest, as they say, is history. You?"
"I wasn't a bad sportsman, but I never had the drive."
"Drive is something Armand has in abundance," I answered, with a smile, thinking of the broad grin on his face as he pulled off his mask, after he'd landed the winning hit in the sabre final, "God I'm proud of him, Mihai. Especially given the screwed up mess he was in after we got him back from the Lynx Cult."
"Amen to that," Ian answered, and raised his glass, tapping mine as I followed suit and then we both took a healthy slug of cold, cold beer. I noted that he politely didn't mention the screwed up mess I had been in around the same time.
"You know. I still wish that you hadn't dumped my current job on me."
"Just there, just then, I had to walk away. And in fairness, he did give you the option of whether you accepted or not."
"Like I could have reasonably refused," I said, with a shrug, "and now? Do you regret it?"
"It's a bit too late for that...however, at least it's given he and I a chance to start thinking about how to mend fences, and we're almost on speaking terms again. For example, I've agreed to spend some time down in House Helgram. Assuming I can timeshare it well enough to still do a decent job of being Mayor."
"On his behalf or your own?"
"A bit of both, I suppose," Ian answered, "It'll be an interesting challenge - it's very different there than up in Amber. But at least it means I occasionally see mother."
"She's not a Helgram."
"No, but she's a lot closer down there than she is up here."
"I wish I really understood why you were so pissed off at him. Sure, he had a dodgy first couple of months, but he seems to be settling into the job now. As long as Fiona and John...and hopefully myself...can keep an eye on him."
"How would you have felt if your siblings had been brutally murdered, and I hadn't even bothered to tell you that they existed? If you'd found out another way?"
"I wouldn't have been best pleased. But I'd like to think I would have been a bit more rational about it than you've been," I answered, "on the other hand, you and I have a very different relationship to you and Bleys. So unless there's something you haven't told me..."
"You know as much as I do...as far as I'm aware, all my offspring are still alive and well. Somewhere. Although who knows if I've met them all yet."
"I'd lay money on the fact that there are at least two sons that you haven't," I commented.
"What makes you say that?"
"Dieter told me that Artur was your seventh son - much as Blaine is mine."
"Really? Was he sure?"
"I'll resist giving you the 'duh' look that he gave me. Being head of the Ahnenerbe and all."
"I can only get to five apart from Linden, who's out of the running by virtue of being younger than my apparent number seven..."
"One for you to ponder. To go with my own family puzzle."
"Which is?"
"Has he told you about Tommy?"
"No..."
"Apparently he was misidentified as mine, around the time Brand kidnapped him from Berlin."
"You've learned this recently, presumably, as he was at the funeral?"
"After I got back from Bowring."
"So you have another son out there?"
"Somewhere. Once things have calmed down a bit, I intend to see if I can track him down."
"Let me know if I can help."
"Thanks."
We fell silent and addressed our beers for a bit. I could hear the boys laughing, and Sylvia and Katherine shouting encouragement.
"Katharine seems nice enough..." he said, finally, "for a Hendrake lass."
Interesting. I'd expected him to add 'for a Nazi', instead.
"That's what she is, is it?" I answered, "then I rest my case. You know what they say...never wed a Hendrake lass."
"I think that's more a guideline, than a rule," he answered, with a chuckle.
"How did you find out?"
"It came up when your other grandfather was here. We talked that evening when you and the boys were at the cinema."
"I'll take it from the lack of bloodshed that it was a civil conversation."
"Very, actually...slightly to my surprise. He's either mellowing, or he's got realistic given who my father is."
"Nice of him to tell me who she is, given that he's doing his best to marry me off to her," I said, slightly annoyed that he'd shared that information with Ian, rather than me. Although I suppose he had out and out said she was Real when I first got back from Bowring, even if he hadn't given me the specifics.
"I was surprised he even mentioned it to me. But I wonder if it was because he'd recently had a long conversation with Bleys, and was trying to be conciliatory."
"What kind of conversation?" I asked, curious.
"I hear from John that they had a frank and robust discussion on protocols, and family and military rank. He even dragged Geran along as witness...to make sure Dieter listened, presumably."
"I must have missed that one. What happened?"
"I understand a few home truths were discussed, about his and your relative status in Amber. It seems like his most noble Majesty is tired of Dieter pushing you around."
"I wouldn't say he pushes me around exactly," I answered, feeling uncomfortable that Bleys had felt the need to discuss me in quite that way, "he's my superior officer, even if you've never liked that. It comes with the territory."
The look he shot me was very much 'I'm right and you know it', and maybe in his eyes he was. After all, I've never been able to shake the feeling that Ian considers my relationship with Dieter to be some variant of Stockholm Syndrome. There was so much about my relationship with my other grandfather that he didn't get, and more to the point, had never been willing to try to understand.
"Have you been stirring?" I asked hearing my own annoyance in my voice.
"Nope. This was all his own work. From what John told me, the short version of the conversation was 'you may outrank Wolf on Germania, but Germania is just a Shadow. Amber is Real, and here Wolf outranks you. Deal with it.'"
I looked at him, trying to figure out if he was joking, and quickly came to the conclusion he wasn't.
"Ah crap."
"Why crap?" he asked, obviously puzzled.
"Because that isn't going to help anything between me and him."
"Which rather proves my point. I can understand Bleys wanting to look out for your interests. Hell, I'm glad he cares enough about you to do it. I wish he'd bothered for me."
"That's harsh, Mihai, and you know it. You two do care for each other - it's just your both too stubborn to admit it."
Ian looked at me, then shrugged.
"That's a different argument. This is about you and Dieter. Because when all's said and done, under the cover of 'superior-subordinate', he's been bullying you for years. Hell, look at the conditions he's put on you even seeing your kids. You shouldn't have to beg to see your son."
"I didn't beg," I snapped, but I felt a slight lump in my throat.
"Really?" he asked, quietly, "because if not, how come Katharine is here? She's his watchdog, right? Even though you presumably had a physical relationship while you were away, and therefore presumably at least like each other."
"We enjoyed each other's company," I answered, "but Bleys still didn't have the right to stick his oar in."
I sounded sullen even to myself. I didn't like people meddling in my affairs quite so blatantly.
"He's our Head of House, Wolf," Ian replied, firmly, "and more to the point, you're his Heir Presumptive. He had every right."
"I don't remember you taking that argument well when he set up your shotgun wedding."
"No, I didn't. But that doesn't make it any less true. Whereas in the past what went on between you and Dieter really only bothered me, that isn't true anymore. Any power he tries to wield over you has direct implications for the throne of Amber. Bleys wants to make sure that doesn't happen anymore. So I also suspect there will also be fewer breeding mares being thrown in your direction from that quarter in the future, as well."
"Christ that sounds cold," I said, feeling myself bristle. I took a pull from my beer to calm myself down.
"But it's true," he answered, locking eyes with me, his expression unrepentant, "You have seven kids. None of them by your own choice of either timing or mother. Always by his. And given your new status, that has implications, because any child of yours potentially has a claim on the throne. Which is the other thing Bleys was pissed off about, apparently."
"Perhaps I didn't have a choice, but by the same token that also means none of them are legitimate. The only exception is Armand, and that's because the King agreed to legitimise him under House Law."
"Legitimacy or lack thereof didn't stop Eric seizing the throne," he pointed out, emptying his glass and pouring another. I passed mine to him for a top-up.
"I suppose not," I conceded.
"And in Armand's case, I don't think it's just morganatic, either. He's been fully legitimised for succession, making him effectively second in line to the Throne, even if he hasn't been formally named as such. So there's a precedent, which Dieter could take advantage of if he was so inclined, and which could cause a lot of trouble down the line. Especially as Armand isn't your oldest son."
"He's the one that matters to me," I answered, feeling decidedly cold, despite the warmth of the evening, "apart from Soren and Blaine, I don't even really know any of the others."
"I know...but that doesn't guarantee what's going to happen in the future. Especially as you have at least one more child on the way."
The last mouthful of beer came straight back up again.
"What the Hell are you talking about?" I demanded, as I wiped my chin.
"Recent parents spot that kind of thing."
"Looking for what?"
"Katherine...don't tell me you hadn't realised?"
"No I hadn't realised," I snapped, "I tried pretty bloody hard to avoid that while we were away."
He looked at me and shrugged.
"But I imagine that at least the potential of another child of yours was another reason why Dieter insisted that she accompany you, rather than some elderly battle-axe. Especially given that your status had changed by then. I wouldn't put it past him to have made sure your union bore fruit."
"Christ, we've moved from breeding mares to stallions which are expected to perform when required."
"That's not what I meant and you know it," he answered.
"Isn't it?"
"No, Wolf...it isn't."
"It certainly felt like it."
"Then I'm sorry," he replied, and looked as if he meant it, then he gave a half smile. "But at least look on the bright side. The boys are together just now. How did they enjoy five years away with their mother?"
If I'd been uncomfortable and annoyed before, that caught me out of left field, and my surprise was obviously evident on my face.
"Katherine..." he continued, "she is the boys' mother, right?"
"Where are you getting all of this from?"
All of a sudden, he stopped sounding superior and began to look worried.
"Wolf...are you okay?"
"Why shouldn't I be?"
"You're usually the first person who notices that sort of thing. You're the best reader of people I've ever met. Surely you must have seen the resemblance between Katherine, Soren and Blaine?"
I looked at him, and shook my head.
"Let me try something..."
"What?"
"I'll tell you in a moment."
I felt him bringing up the Pattern, and then he stopped suddenly and dropped it like a stone, looking for all the world like he'd just sun-blinded himself.
"Bloody Hell, you're bright..."
"Lessons with Fiona, remember."
"Probably means that what I wanted to try couldn't work."
"Which was?"
"I wanted to see if there was any kind of enchantment on you which might have influenced your ability to recognise her...or not as the case may be."
"After a time, those kind of Aryan beauties all look the same - even to a good German boy like me. And bear in mind that if you're right, we probably met each other exactly once before. Around the time of the Germania working, when I wasn't exactly focused on who I went to bed with. You and Marina were fucking like crazed weasels, despite the fact that you were nursing broken ribs, and when I got back to my quarters, I took the company that was offered."
"That may be it..." he answered, but he seemed unconvinced, "but normally, I'd say given your gift for faces, you wouldn't have forgotten her unless you'd either been ensorcelled to do, or Dieter had decided it was unlikely that you would put two and two together, or she had been wearing a different face, either then, or now."
"Which isn't impossible if she's a Hendrake. She could very easily be a shape shifter."
"True."
"It's more likely than 'destiny decided I wouldn't know her'. Being vulnerable to that is the kind of thing my lessons with Fiona have been addressing."
"I suppose that's fair."
"I'll admit, when I first met her, before we went to Bowring, there was something familiar that I couldn't put my finger on...but that's it. And if she is their mother, she certainly never said anything all the time we were away."
"Maybe you should ask...see what reaction it gets."
"Ask what..." came a voice from behind us, and Marina came out onto the patio, a glass of white wine in her hand. She pulled up a chair beside Ian, and joined us in looking out over the garden.
"Ian seems to be of the crazy opinion that Katherine is the boys' mother."
"Why's that so crazy?" she answered, taking a sip from her glass, "just look at her with them. Although she'll be slowing down soon enough...in about three months, at a guess. Congratulations, by the way, step-son of mine."
"I'm not sure congratulations are really in order," I answered, less annoyed than I was, but still confused, "Did you two plan this? Tag teaming me?"
"Why would we?" Ian answered, "I genuinely thought you knew."
"So did I," Marina commented.
"It still doesn't explain why she never said anything."
Ian shrugged and sipped his beer, but Marina looked pensive.
"They're Lebensborn, right?"
"So?"
"Maybe that's the reason," she answered, and I saw a trace of old sadness on her face, "the parents of children who are fully brought up within the Lebensborn system aren't supposed to have contact with their offspring. I had to fight to see Artur, and looking back, that didn't do him any favours by doing so. And I know how difficult it was for Heidi Seidel...seeing Armand but not being able to acknowledge him, except on the one occasion when things went to Hell in a handcart for him.
If I had to guess, Soren and Blaine were taken away from her as babies, after an accelerated pregnancy. Then she went back to Germania, and they were kept wherever my father has his fast-time nursery. Especially if you think they were conceived at the Wewelsburg, and they were already five when you met them. So it's possible that she didn't even realise who they were...at least initially."
"Still, surely she would have recognised me as the bastard who got her pregnant?"
"Don't say that, Wolf," Ian said, quietly, "I don't like to hear you putting yourself down."
"It's what I am...we slept with each other once, and I didn't even think of the consequences."
"You were in Dieter's territory, stressed as Hell, and you can bet your bottom dollar that he planned for exactly that to happen," he answered.
"That doesn't make it right."
"Then remember this, Wolf..." Marina commented, "don't for one moment think she wouldn't have known what my father wanted. She did what he told her to do, and was probably rewarded for it. You don't have to feel guilty about that."
"But she isn't a fool. She must have realised and put two and two together - she'd had twins, I was the single father of twins she was then sent to nursemaid..."
"So maybe I wasn't so far off with the 'destiny decided you wouldn't know her thing'," Ian offered, "it was just the other way around. Maybe he made sure she didn't remember."
"I guess that's possible," I conceded.
"And Hell, perhaps after she did realise, she was just enjoying the chance to be with them, and was afraid that you would tell on her for that to my father," Marina suggested, "I know that if I'd been able to spend five years with Artur when he was that age, I would have jumped at it."
"And you think she's pregnant again?"
"I'm pretty sure," she answered.
"I guess that's why Dieter's trying to marry us off to each other."
"Would that be such a bad thing?" she asked, quietly.
"If I marry again, I'll do it on my terms," I snapped, more defensively than I'd intended, and I saw an odd expression cross Ian's face.
"Even if it means your child follows Soren and Blaine into the Lebensborn system?" she continued, her tenacious journalist expression on her face. There was a reason she'd been the GGR Press Association's journalist of the year more than once since she'd been sleeping with Ian.
"Marina, shut up," I snapped, not in a fit state to cope with her questions, and rather to my surprise, she did.
But by then all my feelings of bonhomie about sitting in the sun with my father were gone. I just wanted to be on my own. I got to my feet without another word and headed inside. However, such was not to be. Moments later I heard footsteps behind me. I ignored them as far as the library, but inevitably they followed me inside and I heard the door close.
"Leave me alone, Ian," I said, stopping and turning towards him.
"No. Right now I can't figure out if you're more pissed off that Bleys talked to Dieter, that Dieter tricked you, or that I told you about it."
"Do you want me to roll over and marry the woman as well? You were forced to get hitched, so everyone else should?"
"Not if you don't want to...although you seem more angry than I'd expected. Are you in a relationship? Other than whatever is going on between you and the good Sturmbannführer..."
"It's complicated."
"Is she someone I know? I know you saw Dr Haley a couple of times, but I didn't think it was serious."
"Drop it, Ian," I snapped, but something about my expression, or my tone as he asked the question, must have given me away, because I saw first puzzlement, and then realisation cross his face.
"Okay...” he said, cautiously, “apparently things have changed since last time I wondered if there was something like that. Is it serious?"
"Friends with benefits."
"Like Katherine."
"I didn't choose to be with Katherine."
"Are you going to tell me who it is? Although thinking about it, I can probably guess."
"Whoever it is, it’s my business, not yours."
"Alright..." he said, and almost seemed to mean it "but answer me this, at least. Does Dieter know?"
"What the Hell kind of question is that? Why does it always come back to bloody Dieter?"
"Because I don't see Bleys caring, as long as it doesn't screw up the Amber succession. He's slept his way through half the female population of the multiverse and probably had a fair few of the men for variety. I imagine most of the family have, given our lifespans. Hell, I experimented once or twice when I was at university...I just didn't enjoy it."
I looked at him, genuinely surprised.
"Paris. Roaring Twenties. You had to be there," he said, smiling as he caught my startled expression, but then he looked more serious, "Dieter, on the other hand, is less likely to accept it. Especially after his talk with the King...although it would explain why he's suddenly so keen to see you safely married off, and this child born in wedlock."
"Assuming it's mine," I snapped, angrily, "assuming it even exists."
"The second, I'm pretty sure about. The first, you should talk to her and find out," Ian commented quietly, "but given that you were living together for five years, after a fashion at least..."
"And then what? I'm not the kind of person who can walk up to a woman, ask if she's carrying my child, and then walk away and leave her to fend for herself without even offering to marry her. It wouldn't be right."
"Believe me, I know," he answered, "I had that conversation with Marina last Christmas."
"I'm not ready for this, Mihai. Not with everything else that's going on in Amber. I want a no strings relationship with someone I care about. I don't want a big state wedding to someone I like, but certainly don't love...And don't even think of suggesting marrying her and divorcing her quietly after the baby is born."
"I wouldn't dream of it. I know about that one, too, remember..."
"Then ask Marina to back off...and get her to make Dieter do the same."
"I can ask her... 'getting her' to do anything is less likely. But I'll try."
"Thank you."
"Now...come back outside. The beer's getting warm."
"No...I just want to sit quietly for a while. And it's cooler in here."
He looked as if he was about to turn and leave, then paused and made eye contact with me again.
"I'm sorry for dropping all this on you. Amber...the Succession."
"Like you said before. You did what you thought was right. I get that."
I wondered if he was going to say something else for a moment, but then he stepped forward and put his arms around me in one of his awkward English hugs. He held it for a few seconds, and then let me go.
"Whatever you decide to do, you know I'll back you, right?"
"I know."
"Even if you want to say 'to Hell with Amber'."
"I don't...I have a job there, I'm getting to know the family, and I'll do what needs to be done, if they let me. And it feels like I'm getting on reasonably well with Bleys. Maybe because I didn't expect anything."
"For which I'm glad. He seems to have taken a shine to you in a way he never really did with me."
"Are you jealous?"
"No...just sad. But maybe, one day, we'll find our feet with each other."
"That sounds a lot like you and Artur."
"I guess it does."
"And you're figuring that out, right?"
"Slowly...although he's hard to figure out."
"Why? He's a lot like you."
"Grounded in Dieter's code in a way neither you nor Armand are. And in Dieter's morals...or lack thereof. That's the tricky part. But we're working on it."
"You're beginning to sound as maudlin as me," I said, quietly, "Go. Sit in the sun with your wife. And I'll see you both at dinner."
"You sure you'll be okay?"
"Yes. I just need some peace and quiet. Shut the door on the way out."
"Alright."
He turned and left, closing the door behind him, and I crossed to the windows and looked out. The boys were still messing around on the tennis court, although the game seemed to have dissolved into anarchy. Then I heard a gentle knock on the main door and Carmichael came in, a glass on a silver tray and Ava twining around his feet. Without a word, he put the glass on the windowsill beside me, under the window, and then nodded and disappeared out as quietly as he had arrived. I heard a mew from by my feet and looked down to see the cat staring back at me, with a distinct 'stop feeling sorry for yourself and pet me, puny human' expression on her furry face.
I turned my back on the window, picked up the glass - recognising the aroma of Balvenie Double Wood as I did - and settled down in one of the big leather chairs by the fireplace: flowers in there for summer, instead of flames. She jumped up seconds later, and snuggled into the crook of my arm. I took a sip from the glass, then put it down on the table beside me, and started scratching her between the ears.
What the Hell was I going to do?