The Ludwig Conspiracy (29 page)

“Help yourself,” he said between two mouthfuls. “You’ll need your strength for the sight I am going to offer you tonight. You are my chosen one.”

“Very good, Your Majesty.” I nodded and went on pushing my peas around with a fork. I briefly considered speaking to the king again about the ministerial intrigue but decided against it. This did not seem to be the right time. Ludwig appeared very much in danger of slipping away into his dream world. I would have to wait for one of his more reasonable moments.

“Is something the matter, Marot?” asked the king, and in his surprise he stopped eating. “You know you can say anything to me. I am your king.” He smiled, and I saw the festering blackened stumps of teeth between his full lips. “Your king and your friend,” he repeated with gravity.

“I know how deeply to appreciate that, Your Majesty,” I replied, and felt myself breaking out in a cold sweat. “But I assure you it’s nothing. Merely weariness after the long journey.”

Inwardly, I shuddered. Ludwig had proclaimed me his close friend several times before, but I knew that his choice of friends never lasted long. Ludwig liked to have handsome men around him. At the same time, the king had never yet made unseemly advances to me, nor could I imagine that he was even capable of such desires, whether for men or for women. He had separated from his fiancée, Princess Sophie of Bavaria, a sister of the Empress Sisi of Austria, after only a few months’ engagement. But now he seemed to have taken a fancy to me, and I didn’t know what to think of it.

“If you are tired, then I have something that will cheer your heart again.” The king rose, breathing heavily, and his chair fell over. “Let us go over to the castle, my dear Marot. It’s time we did in any case. Let’s hope those lazy dogs have already lit the candles.”

We left the monastery down a narrow flight of steps and walked in silence over to Herrenchiemsee Castle, accompanied only by two footmen in costume and powdered wigs. In the west, above the canal, the fiery red globe of the sun was just setting.

WFIFBGQTQ

It was an amazing sight. In the darkness of the wood, something bright and incredibly large shone like a monstrous lantern. As we left the trees behind us, the castle suddenly emerged. The whole of the second floor was glittering; the windowpanes sparkled with warm light that shone all the way down to the fountains and the flower beds.

“I see all has been prepared,” said the king, and an emotional note came into his voice. “Good. Very good. Then follow me, my faithful paladin.”

He gave the two footmen a sign, and they bowed low and stayed where they were. The two of us walked on through the entrance hall, which was lined with marble statues, and up a broad staircase to the second floor, where the king had his own apartments. On the way, I saw many unfinished rooms, bare and unplastered, which seemed to exhale a curious chill. The rooms to which we now came struck me as all the more fantastic. The walls were covered with gilded stucco, marble, and paneling in precious woods. Chandeliers sparkled as they hung from the ceiling, and the floor was made of oak, polished until it shone like a mirror, with ornate inlays of Brazilian rosewood. Pictures of the Sun King of France in all his glory hung everywhere. In battle, at court, larger than life in a sweeping royal cloak. Busts and small statues of the French king greeted us from every corner. Louis XIV was everywhere; he seemed to hover over us like the sun itself.

Ludwig strutted ahead of me as if he were alone on a stage, taking long strides, holding his head stiffly upright. He seemed entirely absorbed by the effect of the splendor around him.

“My bedroom,” he whispered, pointing to a huge four-poster bed with a blue canopy and silk curtains interwoven with gold thread. In front of it was a gilded stand, on which a glass globe shimmered on the inside with a blue light. The king picked it up as a soothsayer might his crystal ball, and he began caressing it gently. “Right here is the central point of the sun’s course, the center of the universe,” he said, kissing the globe. “The place from which the king presides over the fate of his people.”

“Is that the idea of which you speak?” I asked with a touch of skepticism. “Are you yourself the center of all being?”

The king straightened up to his full height. For a moment his eyes blazed angrily, exactly as they had that afternoon when he had struck the overseer. “God gave us all our stations on this earth,” he finally replied, turning away. “Come with me, and you will understand.”

Ludwig went ahead, and we crossed a small room on our way to a double door.

“Voilà,” whispered the king. “Feel the breath of history upon you!”

He theatrically flung open the two wings of the door, and I saw a mighty hall that surely extended for more than a hundred paces to both right and left. Countless historical scenes in which the Sun King appeared adorned the ceiling. There was a view of the forecourt of the castle from a dozen arched windows. Opposite the windows hung an equal number of mirrors. But most impressive of all were the chandeliers and the gilded candelabra that stood like an army, bearing thousands of candles, on both sides of the hall. The candlelight reflected over and over again in the mirrors, and in this way the whole room shone so brightly that for a moment I had to put my hand in front of my eyes to avoid being dazzled.

“My Hall of Mirrors,” said the king, standing in the middle of the room with his arms outspread. “It is larger than the one in Versailles. I can walk here alone by night, giving myself up to my thoughts, like such great kings of past centuries as Louis the Fourteenth.” The king looked at me with a dreamy smile. “Did you know that there is a direct link between me and the Sun King? My grandfather was named after Louis the Sixteenth. I feel that I am the heir of the Bourbons, the last to live out the monarchy in accordance with divine principle.”

“Is this place the idea that you spoke of?” I asked, indicating the sparkling light of the candelabra all around us. “A light in the darkness? Are you to be the light of Europe?”

Ludwig nodded fervently, and his eyes burned with enthusiasm. “The king is the bright center. All else revolves around him. He is the real picture, not the shadows on the wall. Without the king, the world would be turned upside down, and chaos would follow. Just look around you, Marot.” He pointed to the view outside the window. “Wherever the eye falls, there’s nothing but war, destruction, estrangement. We are rushing headlong toward a century of cannibalism. Believe me,
I
am not mad; it is the times in which we live.” The king sighed deeply. “A God-given responsibility rests on my shoulders. That makes a man lonely, Marot. Very lonely.”

Suddenly I realized what I had been feeling for all these last minutes, which made me shiver despite the warmth from the many candles. It was not the chill of fall that wafted through these apartments, but of loneliness itself. We were all alone in the yawning void of this empty castle, with its unfinished rooms, its gold leaf, its imitation marble on the bare stone. There were no laughing maidservants, no whispering footmen, no good smells from the kitchen, no music, no sound of rushing water, nothing. When the lights in the Hall of Mirrors went out, cold and darkness would invade the castle once more. I could almost smell the king’s fear that a sudden gust of wind might blow all the candles out and leave him alone with the night.

“I need a friend,” said Ludwig in the silence. “They have all abandoned me. Lutz, the other ministers, my much-loved Wagner, even the faithful Hornig. Be my friend, Marot. I ask it as your king.”

“It . . . it would be an honor for me, Your Majesty,” I stammered. “But believe me, you are not alone. The people love you. Go to Munich and show them that you return their love.”

Ludwig was smiling again, but there was something unspeakably sad in his eyes. “Did the Sun King show himself to his people?” he asked quietly. “Barbarossa? Friedrich, Duke of Swabia? They were all lonely men. I can assure you, a king loses his brilliance if he throws himself at the feet of the common people.”

I felt an inner rebellion against such obstinacy. “You have only to show yourself.” I implored. “Is that too much to ask? A wave of your hand, and there will be an end to your enemies’ scheming.”

The king frowned. “I did show myself, Marot. In the past. But since then, there have been two wars that I did not want. The ministers make me their plaything, the smoke of factories hangs over the cities, the people talk of socialism and revolution. This is no longer my world.” Ludwig strode through the brightly lit hall now, and his voice echoed back from the walls. “I do not belong in this age, Marot. And if I am to go under, then let it be as the last great ruler. As an example of what monarchy used to mean. As the last true king.”

“But Your Majesty,” I began in a pleading tone. However, Ludwig waved me away.

“Go now, Marot. Leave me alone.” He looked through one of the great windows and out into the garden, and for all his height and portly figure, he suddenly seemed to me like a vulnerable child, like the loneliest human being in the universe, a man on the moon, far from everything that was warm, bright, alive.

I bowed low and hastily went down the stairs. All of a sudden I wanted only to be gone from here, away from those bare rooms, from all the cold splendor, the silence and darkness. I stumbled out and exhaled deeply, as if that would enable me to cough up all the evil in the castle like a poisonous gas.

When I glanced up, the king was still standing there, staring out at the woods.

A bloodless, lifeless waxwork of a king.

IFGQMT, WFT, IFI, IQT

The morning of the next day gave me a warm, bright welcome.

I opened my eyes because the sunbeams were tickling my nose. Last night was only a horrific memory, and I went down in high good humor to the kitchen, where Maria was busy washing dishes. I crept up quietly behind her and put my hands over her eyes, whereupon, laughing, she felt with her own wet hands for my face. Our quarrel of yesterday over Ludwig seemed to be forgotten.

“Stop that, Theodor!” she cried pertly. “Or shall I put soap on your black coat and tell the king?”

“Only if you promise to come out for some fresh air with me,” I insisted. “Without Leopold. I promised the boy a new slingshot if he would leave the two of us in peace. In return I promise not to say a word about the king, agreed?”

“Very well,” she said with a sigh. “But only for an hour. Then I have to do the laundry.”

I let her go, and together we ran out into the green landscape, laughing like children, down the hill on which the monastery stood, and toward the woodland that spread over large parts of the island. I had not yet said anything to Maria about her strange expeditions to Oberammergau, and I decided that it could wait. Perhaps she might tell me about them herself sometime. Until then, I could hope that Leopold was only the fruit of a brief passion that had long ago grown cold, and no other man stood between me and my beloved.

As soon as we were in the shade of the beech trees to the south of the island, I tried again to take Maria in my arms and kiss her mouth. This time she looked at me angrily. Every trace of merriment had disappeared from her eyes.

“If this is what you lured me into the woods for, then let me tell you I’m no loose woman,” she snapped. “You can do that with your other girls, not with me.”

“There are no other girls,” I assured her. “Maria, I really don’t understand you. Don’t you like me even a little?”

“More than you can know,” she said, “but it will never do.”

“For heaven’s sake, why not? If it’s because of Leopold, then believe me . . .”

But she had already turned away and was running farther into the wood. Shaking my head, I hurried after her. Ever since our first meeting, Maria had been a sealed book. I ardently hoped that she loved me, yet she seemed curiously reserved as soon as I showed my love for her. Did she still feel something for the father of her child, even though he had disavowed her years ago?

I finally caught up with her. She was sitting on a mossy stone, beside a little bubbling brook, crying quietly. Her whole body shook.

“He . . . he’ll kill me,” she whispered. “I can’t do it, Theodor, or he’ll kill me.”

I froze. “Who?” I asked. “Who will kill you? Leopold’s father?” At last I decided to break my silence. “Listen, Maria,” I hesitantly began. “I know about your secret meetings in Oberammergau. I . . . I followed you one day because I was blind with jealousy. The man there has no more power over you. He disavowed you, and . . .”

“You fool!” she suddenly cried, as if beside herself. “What are you talking about? You don’t understand anything. Anything!”

The next moment, a jay called not far away. I started and saw a figure standing behind one of the beech trees, only some twenty paces from us. The figure had moved out slightly from behind the trunk of the tree, presumably to observe us better, and so I could make out a sleeveless black coachman’s coat, a top hat, and the ivory-handled walking stick that the man held. Suddenly he turned his face to me, and my heart missed a beat.

It was Carl von Strelitz.

The Prussian agent did not for one moment hesitate. With his free hand, he reached into the inner pocket of his coat and brought out a small black pistol. There was a report, and the bark of the beech tree directly behind me split open as if at the lash of a whip. I seized Maria’s arm and drew her behind the rock.

“Do you have anything to do with this man?” I whispered as another shot rang out and dust from the rock rained down on us. “Have you set him on me? Is
he
the man who will kill you?”

Maria shook her head in silence. Fear seemed to hold her in its frozen grasp.

Desperately, I tried to calm my breathing, but my heart beat wildly. “He has a double-barreled Derringer,” I said quietly, cautiously peering out from behind the rock. “He fired the same gun at me once before, a few weeks ago. The devil knows how he found me. At least he’ll have to reload.” I looked deep into Maria’s eyes. “Now, we are going to run, do you hear me? Over to the castle, where we’ll be safe. Don’t turn around. Just run as fast as you can. One, two,
run!
”