As the Master hurried down the wide marble staircase of the Palais Harrach, he tightened the wide, fluttering black cloak around his shoulders and reviewed the events of the last few minutes in his mind: the soft, unpleasant beeping of the com had awakened him, his first glance was at the time display. It was half past three in the morning. Who...? He pointed his finger at the com–wand; it read "Chancery, King." It was very, very unusual, especially since the king had never asked for him at night before.
He pulled himself together and reported succinctly, "Candor, please, who is speaking?"
"The king's chambers," a soft female voice chirped from the speakers. "If you would please come to us immediately, right now, right now..."
He interrupted her and asked, "Who are you, and what is this about?"
A clear, long hesitation. Then she said, "Royal Chancery, Assistant Firnbach." Silence again, another hesitation. "It is about the king, the queen asks you urgently to come. – I can say no more."
He touched Roxanne's arm, who woke instantly and looked at him questioningly. "I'll be right there, Mrs. Firnbach. I'll be on my way in two minutes, and I think I'll be at the Leopoldine in five or six." With a wave of his hand he ended the conversation. As he dressed quickly, he glanced at Roxanne and saw her nod. He reached for his black cloak, picked up the long staff of gnarled oak, and quietly walked out of the bedroom.
Arriving at the foot of the stairs, he took the back exit and hurried across Herrengasse and Minoritenplatz to the Hofburg. The guards at the entrance had been reinforced, they let him pass immediately, as the identification device had recognized him. He walked through the long hall to the central corridor, at the end of which was the chancellery. Without knocking, he opened the door and entered. Sitting at a desk was a middle‐aged woman who had apparently recognized him immediately. "Good morning, Master Candor," she said, then considered whether that was the correct form of address. "Please follow me," she said, opening a small wallpaper door behind the desk. He followed her and found himself in the antechamber that led to the royal apartment. She pointed to the door and said, "Please enter!"
He opened the door, entered and looked around. There were several people present, most of whom he knew. In the middle stood the queen, slowly turning around. He looked into her tear‐stained face and knew immediately that something terrible must have happened here. The queen dabbed at her face with a lace handkerchief before taking a step toward him and murmuring softly, "He's dying, master, dying!" He felt her gaze rest on him, looked into her eyes, and immediately felt a deep, painful discomfort. He took another step forward, and just as quietly said, "Where is he now?" She turned wordlessly and entered the bedroom ahead of him.
King Charles lay in the wide marriage bed, half‐sitting, his head resting on several pillows. His ice‐gray hair framed his angular, bearded countenance. His face was chalky pale, sweat ran down his forehead and cheeks, and his pale fingers groped unsteadily over the bed sheet. Obviously he tried to speak, but no word came from his lips, only senseless, quiet stammering. The master quickly stepped to the bedside and grasped the king's hand. It was ice cold. King Charles kept his eyes tightly closed and tried convulsively to open them, but he could not. The master stood beside the dying man for minutes, looked inquiringly into his face, and then stepped back.
"What does the doctor say?" he asked the queen. She answered him immediately, "The doctor took his blood 20 minutes ago and rushed it to the lab. He hasn't reported back yet." The queen looked despairingly at Karl's face and murmured, "He must have been poisoned, at dinner..." Her voice failed. For minutes there was an awkward silence.
In this silence suddenly sounded a soft chirping, the queen made a hand gesture and took the conversation, "Dr. Ritzler, what's new?" the bystanders could not understand the doctor's answer, the queen listened excitedly and with a hand gesture she broke off the conversation. She turned and said, "It's definitely a poison, the doctor is going to the university right now and will try to do more tests to determine the nature of the poison." She took a deep breath, then muttered, "I can't believe it, who could want to poison him?"
Now the butler and the king's personal assistant stepped back to the bedside and saw to it that the king lay comfortably, again adjusting the pillows, wiping his face with cloths, and fanning him with air. The master took a deep breath and tried to hide his feelings from the others, for now it was necessary for him to keep himself in check and his thinking clear. He took several steps back, watching those present with deep interest. He tried to observe them closely and also to sense what emotions they had, but he could not detect anything unusual. The queen was visibly and noticeably shaken, the butler as well as the personal assistant were in hopeless turmoil. The Baron von Stetten was also in deep mourning, but anger and rage were also evident in him. The two maids who were standing a little further back were also shaken, one blubbering softly to herself, the other pressing her lips tightly together. The master looked at her more closely and thought she might have seen more in the king than just her master. The longer he looked at her and listened into her, the more certain he was that she had shared his bed. Perhaps she was already 20 or younger, he thought, much to the king's taste, as he knew. But as much as he focused on her and her emotions, she didn't strike him as a poisoner.
After about 20 minutes, the phone chirped again, the queen conversed briefly with Dr. Ritzler and turned to the bystanders. "It's a snake venom," she said, "the doctor thinks an African mamba. An antivenom is not available at this time, in Spain is the next available thing. He has already contacted our diplomatic mission and arranged for the antivenom to be flown to us immediately by private plane. They said it should be with us in two and a half hours." She pressed her lips tightly together, then turned away, and could be heard crying into her handkerchief.
Quietly the master moved away from the others and stepped into the anteroom, looked for Miss Firnbach and went with her to her desk. He briefly informed her of the state of affairs and ordered her to provide him with an accurate and complete list of dinner guests. She immediately dictated the appropriate orders into her com and had it printed. The master pulled up a chair, sat down and carefully read through the list. He found no discrepancies, however; it was apparently an ordinary dinner in a family setting. Besides the king and queen, only Prince Louis was present; they were served by the butler and the two maids. The cook had certainly been in Charles' service for several decades; his two kitchen assistants seemed inconspicuous. "Where was the personal assistant?" he asked Fraulein Firnbach, who spoke briefly into her com and then replied that, according to the calendar, he had left for his quarters before dinner, at exactly 19:37, according to the attendance log. At 19:55, he had left his quarters again and had gone out by the main gate a few minutes later. He lowered the paper and closed his eyes to think.
He briefly touched his com, which was attached to his forearm, and called the castle bailiff. After a brief greeting, he asked the latter to secure everything related to the dinner. The kitchen and the wine cellar had to be immediately cordoned off and secured, as well as the used dishes. The bailiff interrupted him and said that the dishes had certainly already been cleaned and put away again. Nevertheless, he wanted to get to work immediately. He ended the conversation and closed his eyes, trying to imagine how the attack could have happened. He assumed that the poison would be liquid, so it had probably been added to one of the drinks.
Suddenly the door opened, and Baron von Stetten rushed into the office. "Prince Ludwig is also ill!" he shouted, pulling the master up by his cloak. "Candor, come with me!" he shouted and stormed ahead. Master Candor followed him in quick strides, up one flight of stairs they entered the prince's bedroom. He, too, was lying in bed covered in sweat, a maid bent over the 14–year old and stroking his sweaty forehead soothingly. The master stepped in and briefly felt the boy's pulse, also touched his forehead and looked at him closely. Then he turned and went back downstairs, entered the king's bedroom and turned to the queen, "The prince has been poisoned too, maybe the doctor should check on him!" After a cry of pain, the queen sobbed out and immediately called the doctor, told him to come quickly to the castle and examine the prince. Weary, she let herself sink down on the foot of her marital bed. "Oh my God, oh my God!" was the only thing she kept muttering to herself.
Baron von Stetten waited upstairs with the prince for the doctor, the master standing steadfastly beside the queen, watching the king die. After a few minutes, he grasped Karl's hand, tried to feel for a pulse, and then straightened up. "King Charles is dead," he said softly, closing his king's eyelids with one hand. He bent down to the queen and embraced her wordlessly. She sat motionless and paralyzed, staring at Karl's face and slowly shaking her head over and over again. The minutes passed like sand in an hourglass.
The master turned and, hanging his head, walked slowly up the stairs to the prince's bedroom. The doctor was bent over the prince, examining him closely. The Master looked with a questioning glance at Baron von Stetten, and the latter whispered softly to him, "The plane is already in the air, but there are still two hours before they land." The master said quietly, but clearly audible to the doctor and the baron, "The king is dead." The three men and the maid looked at each other in dismay and sadness. Then the doctor said, "It is true, the prince has also been poisoned – probably with the same poison. Hopefully the plane from Madrid will arrive in time!" The master, the worried doctor, and the faithful baron paused in silence, but the maid interrupted the silence and said, "I found a cup on the prince's bedside table; the prince must have taken it up there after dinner." Immediately the master asked about the cup. The maid had emptied it in the sink and placed it in the anteroom. She stepped out and then returned with the cup in her hand. The doctor took it carefully in his hand, wrapped it with a piece of cloth, and stuffed it into his doctor's bag. "Will examine promptly," he said in his short, curt manner.
As the Baron had ordered, the King was washed by the butler and the personal assistant, and newly dressed, he was laid on the freshly made bed. The queen was escorted to her quarters where she could lie down for a bit and calm down. The master called Miss Firnbach to issue a terse statement to the principal personages and a second ordering some of them to the castle for the next morning.
While they waited, Candor called Miss Firnbach again and asked her to print out the attendance log or the movement log for the previous evening between 4 and 8 pm. He knew that every person was being watched at all times in the castle compound and that person's movements were being recorded accurately. He stood patiently next to Dr. Ritzler, who kept looking at his wristwatch and feeling the boy's pulse. "He is feverish" he said, "let us hope, let us hope!" Then he looked impatiently at his watch again. Baron von Stetten was still on the telephone with the pilot, and could be heard repeating that they were just over Switzerland, and that it would be three quarters of an hour or a whole hour before they could land.
Prince Ludwig had become very silent, his eyes looking from one to the other and again into the far distance. The master watched him intently, filled with sadness. He knew that it would not be long now, for he was clearly aware that the boy had to die. The minutes passed in a flash, the doctor kept glancing at his wristwatch and could only watch helplessly as the boy slowly deteriorated. "Fifteen minutes to go," the doctor said, "they should land in fifteen minutes." He held the boy's wrist and looked him in the eye.
Baron von Stetten, who was still on the phone with the pilot, nodded delightedly and said, "they're on approach!" After a while, the doctor looked up and said tonelessly, "Prince Ludwig is dead!" he lowered his head so that it would not be seen that he was crying. Baron von Stetten struck his thigh with the flat of his hand, clenched his fist and slammed it into his other hand, again and again. The three men stood at the deathbed for a long time, alternately putting their hands on each other's shoulders and remaining silent.
Baron von Stetten was the first to pull himself together, calling the maid by name: "Dina," he said, "wash the prince, dress him cleanly and prepare his bed !" While the maid went out to fetch what was necessary, the three men slowly went out. The baron quietly closed the door. They went down the stairs, entered the royal living quarters and knocked on the door to the queen's quarters. A maid opened. They entered.
Baron von Stetten cleared his throat and said softly, "The boy has just died. Our sincere condolences." His voice failing, he turned away and stepped back. One by one, the doctor and the master shook hands with the horrified‐looking queen. She slumped down, slapped both hands in front of her face and howled. "My God, my God! It can't be like this!" she kept repeating and sobbing. The three men stood sadly and despairingly before her, watching impotently the desperate weeper and remaining silent. After a few minutes, which seemed to them like half an eternity, the doctor turned and opened the door to leave and the baron followed him. As Master Candor was about to leave as well, the queen looked up briefly and said softly, "Please stay!"
The Master closed the door behind the Baron and turned to the Queen. She apparently calmed down and dabbed the tears with a handkerchief. Then she looked up at him resolutely and ruled, "Whoever is responsible for this, find him! Bring him to me tied up, on his knees, so I can look him in the face before I tear him apart!".
The Master had taken a step back at her violent outburst. He knew the queen pretty well, but he hadn't expected such a wild outburst. Scraps of thoughts and small visions he saw: she had been an exquisitely pretty girl around 20, wildly demanding her youth lust and parties. Wild and sexy, she ensnared the old man, and when she won the king over, she soon became queen alongside the man at least 40 years her senior. King Charles was delighted when Prince Louis was born, and named him Crown Prince as soon as he was born. Both the queen and the king had their little escapades, but on the whole they lived harmoniously together and held the kingdom together. Ludwig was the guarantor for the future.
The master looked the queen in the eye, then nodded and promised, "I will do my best, dear Elizabeth!" Very rarely he addressed the queen by her name. He extended his hand to her, they exchanged a firm handshake, then he nodded and went out.
In the office of Mrs. Firnbach, the Baron was already waiting for him. "Well, what did she say?" the latter asked impatiently. "She has instructed me to find the culprits immediately!" replied the master, turning to Fräulein Firnbach, "Please set up the small room next door for me as a makeshift, I need a table, 3 chairs and a com–device." Miss Firnbach nodded.
The Master and the Baron spent the next hour issuing the necessary statements to the most important personalities as well as informing the media about the state of affairs with all due caution. He conversed with the Baron about how to continue governing the empire and where to find a successor for the deceased. The Baron had some discussions with the archives as well as the secret service and then said succinctly, "There is only one descendant of Charles left, Prince Erich from a previous marriage, who is currently living in London." the Baron left no doubt that he was not at all satisfied with the lifestyle of this prince, who was leading a rather carefree party life in London. After a short discussion with the master, he arranged for the chancery to send an express message to London.
Miss Firnbach said the room was ready. Master Candor got up, went into the room and told Miss Firnbach to call the maid Dina. He sat down behind the desk, straightened paper and pencil, and pressed the com–device. He set the device to record. The baron had come in as well, grabbed a chair and sat a little apart. They waited.
The maid entered, her face expressing sorrow and deep pain. She was a not particularly beautiful, but still very pretty young woman in her late 20s, he estimated. She had obviously changed her clothes and was wearing a pretty dress. Her long brunette hair was tied in a knot, which was the fashion of the time. The master asked her to sit down. Then he looked at her in silence for a very long time. Meanwhile, he tried to listen as deeply as he could to her thoughts, but the sadness and pain covered everything.
"What was this wine cup, which we know contained poisoned wine, doing at the Crown Prince's?" the Master asked in surprise into the silence. To his delight, he suddenly saw vague images of the boy repeatedly pilfering wine. And promptly the maid, bursting into tears, said that the young prince kept taking wine, at first probably out of curiosity, but perhaps he liked the slightly intoxicating feeling. Yes, she said uncertainly and sighed deeply. At that moment the master saw a picture of Dina and Ludwig wrestling naked on the bed for a pillow, laughing happily.
"How long has this been going on, between you and Ludwig?" he asked sternly. Dina looked up startled, then turned to the baron and looked again at the master. He repeated sternly, "How long have you been sleeping with the boy?" Dina lowered her head and remained silent. Then she whispered softly, "Only a few weeks, Master Candor." The Master sensed quite clearly that the Baron was looking very guilty, but he was going to save that for later. "And I suppose you wanted to bind him to you in this way?" he said sternly. Dina looked him straight in the eye, then said, "No, my lord, that was not my intention, but." She broke off, then looked at him almost defiantly, "I think it gave him pleasure, he was happy with it." After a little pause, she added, "He was so curious, he was so young." Then her voice broke off. She sobbed softly, and the two men fell silent.
The master interrupted the silence, "So you think the prince took the wine up from dinner?" Immediately Dina said, "Yes!" and looked him firmly in the eyes. "He used to fill his father's cup with wine every night after dinner and take it upstairs with him, and then when I went to see him later, for ...." she interrupted herself and added, "By the time I got to him, he had usually emptied the cup." The master looked at her inquiringly for a long while longer, then nodded and let her go.
"And now, my dear Baron, out with the language!" The Baron, a short, stocky man with a prosperity belly, scratched his head before saying defiantly, "Gee, Candor, I guess it's not that bad. The boy didn't really know how to approach fair womanhood, he didn't have any female playmates. He let his feelings come through in some conversations, and I kept telling him, "That will come, my boy, that will come!" Then I talked to Dina, whom I knew to have often had violent love affairs, but whom I also knew to be a fundamentally decent woman. She didn't hesitate for long and promised never to hurt the prince's feelings. And so it came to pass, and I alone bear the responsibility!" The Master, while the Baron was reporting, had kept nodding and finally said, "This is not my world, but I believe you meant only well." The Baron was visibly relieved, he looked the Master firmly in the eye and said, "Candor, I had nothing to do with what happened to the King and the Prince!" The Master looked at him for a long time, then nodded and said, "My dear Baron, I believe you!" That sounded final, and it was. The two men talked for a long time about how to proceed regarding Prince Erich, and especially how to keep the statements to the Reich and the media. The master, after all one of the king's closest advisors, and the baron, who was responsible firstly for the education of Prince Louis and secondly on behalf of the king for the absolute secrecy of the queen's small, clandestine affairs, came to an understanding about these two important events and were in grosso modo agreement.
The Master had gone to the kitchen on the first floor, sat down at the long wooden table and had a good hearty breakfast. He briefly activated his com and called Roxane. He briefly described the events, then said that he would stay in the castle in the morning, because the grandees of the empire would surely organize a publicized performance in which he would have to participate. Roxane had listened quietly, then said quietly that she and Marco would be fine at home, he should take his time and not worry.
No sooner had he hung up than the Baron called to tell him that the media event would begin in 15 minutes in the great hall and that he needed to join them in time. The master went to the washroom, washed his face and combed his long white hair. In the mirror he checked his appearance once again, then he went up to the second floor to the great hall. Just as the entire Leopoldine wing in the castle was kept in simple white, the walls were covered with red fabric wallpaper and the frames of the huge mirrors offset with gold gave the hall a dignified atmosphere in which kings, chancellors and federal presidents had already made their appearances in the past. He briefly looked around the crowded hall and spotted the other masters who had taken their seats on the benches along the left wall. He nodded to them, sat down with them and placed his staff on the floor. All the big personalities, representatives of the estates and the government, but also media people and a large number of photographers and cameramen were present.
The spokesman for the King's Chancellery stepped up to the microphone, and the hall fell silent. He read from a document and reported that King Charles and Prince Louis had fallen victim to an underhanded attack. Although everyone had already been informed, a muffled murmur went through the hall. Then the speaker stepped back and left the microphone to the next speaker, the government president. The latter, a white‐haired, dignified old man, enumerated the king's merits and the empire's successes. Then followed more speeches, addresses and obituaries, each more mendacious than the last. The event dragged on, and the master had sat back, closed his eyes, and let his thoughts run free.
He was reluctant to admit it, but the murderer or the person who ordered the assassination was certainly present in the hall. Under lowered eyelids he looked at all the people who listened to the speeches. He knew them all, at least by name, and tried to imagine that each of them could have given the order for the assassination. But his instincts failed him completely; none of those present seemed even remotely suspicious. He leaned toward Master Edelmann, who was sitting next to him, and whispered, "Who among these would even be in a position to order such an assassination?"
Master Edelmann, who was about the same age as himself, just shook his graying head and whispered back, "We must investigate each of them, such a gruesome act cannot go unpunished!" He paused for a long while, then added, "We must find out what interest was behind it, then we will have the culprit or culprits." Master Candor murmured, "The Queen Dowager has already put me in charge of that." Edelmann looked at him briefly, then nodded, "She made the right choice!" The two fell silent and left themselves to listen again.
The master's mind wandered. It was before the time before he was reawakened that the united Europe practically fell apart again into individual states. The remaining conglomerate United Europe became a hollow, empty paper tiger. The individual states remained republics, such as Germany or France, but in others autocrats seized the leadership, as in Austria. The last federal president appointed himself king in a night‐and‐fog action. In his televised address to the nation, he said that the chaos could only be ended by someone with a strong hand rebuilding the republic and ending the endless squabbles, political intrigues and intrigues of partisan factions that were paralyzing the country. Thus he proclaimed the Republic of Austria the Kingdom of Austria and himself King Franz.
There was a sigh of relief throughout the empire when King Francis began to establish order. His motto was "Justice first!" and he made every effort to put this into practice. One of his wisest decisions, for example, was to assemble the 100 richest people or companies in the kingdom once a year in the throne room and leave it up to them to decide freely to what extent they wanted to contribute to the community with their wealth. Of course, no one wanted to, but the king left them no choice. Those who refused at first, he – full of anger and disgust – imposed a 30% tax or had 30% of their wealth collected. From the second year on, there was no one left who did not voluntarily hand over part of their wealth to the treasury. With such actions King Francis became very popular with the people, of course not with the grandees.
King Francis left it at that, that the government president and the ministers as well as the parliament with well 400 delegates led the realm, first of all. But in the background he gathered around him a handful of clever minds who supported him and his ideas, but who were also prepared to contradict him in disputes where they thought it necessary. All major and important decisions were made in this Council of Masters, as King Francis secretly called them. All foreign policy decisions were made in this body, Francis watched with great interest how relations with the great states such as Germany, China, Russia and the United States were developing. He was not afraid to go before the government and announce an order. Debates were brief because everyone knew that when the king made a decision, it was to be carried out. Francis was deeply convinced that only a union between a powerful king and an elected parliament representing the people could work. Better a king who could listen to the parliament than a democratic government that was fruitlessly dead in eternal, endless debates. Thus King Francis reigned for more than 20 years until, after his death, his son Charles succeeded him on the throne.