Mystery and Mayhem and St Marks

By Joel Vincent

Published on Jul 15, 2009

Gay

Mystery and Mayhem At St Mark's

A Sequel

by

Joel

Seq: 28:

Some of the Characters Appearing or Mentioned: Mark Henry Foster The story-teller: Newly graduated. Tristan (Tris) Price-Williams His well-proportioned boyfriend. Francis Michael Foster Alias Toad/Microbe Mark's younger brother Adam Benjamin Carr Mark's cousin: History Fellow Ivo Richie Carr Ditto, as his twin, a diplomat Sophia Carr Their mother in Dorset George Carr Their father: A farmer Victoria ['Tory] Carr Ivo's wife George Henry Carr Ivo and 'Tory's new-born son Sir Henry Machin 'Tory's father, something in the City Lady Mary Machin 'Tory's mother Ignasz Zendener The hotel manager in Strelzen Tomas, Igor, Frantischek; Receptionists and students Aloys zum Adamszberh Rector of the Rodolfer University Jerzy zum Adamszberh His son, studying at Cambridge Tadeuz Galenosz A botanist, also at Cambridge Herr Diesselhorst A relieved Minister of the Interior Dr Schreiber Musician at the Rodolfer University Yniold Schreiber His son: A student Pyotor Borisov Yniold's friend. A promising singer Margaret zu Glottenberh Andrei's mother: Related to Mark's family Andrei zu Glottenberh Rothenian Army Officer [Special Services] Klaus & Bastian zu G... His brothers Lucasz Voynovich Rothenian Army Officer [Signals Division] David Vinodosj Secret police

Monday

With all that had happened before I just wondered what the day might bring. I was still in Tris's single bed. It wasn't uncomfortable. He was spooned up behind me and holding me to him. I was at peace with him. My Tris! But we had to shift. We had slept so soundly and his little alarm was ringing. Seven thirty. I crept out of bed, peed, shat, showered and shaved and felt quite fresh as I dragged the duvet off a still recumbent Tris.

He opened his eyes, and smiled. I knelt down and we kissed, gently, with quiet passion knowing we were at one with each other.

He smiled. "I just wonder sometimes who I could be related to. A long line of Welsh lawyers is all I know. Grandfather is always on about our legal heritage. There are farmers as well on the Williams side." He winked. "Welsh sheep no doubt!"

I stood up and put on a censorial air. "We don't need any of that smut this morning. Get up and make yourself more beautiful than you are," I added. He put out a hand and I hauled him upright. "We can get dressed properly later. The last message from Ivo when we left the Christening was that carriages would call at ten-thirty."

We were early for once and waiting in the lobby for the others to appear for breakfast. I was itching to tell the news about Andrei to Frankie but it would keep. Jelka had reserved a big table for us and everyone was wondering what was going to happen at the Palace.

"I've brought a few cards to hand around if anyone there is interested. Who'll be there anyway?" asked Frankie.

Both Tris and I shrugged our shoulders. Frankie was still unaware about our awards. Polly said she was interested in seeing the interior of the Palace and Kasim said he'd read up the description in the guidebook. "Sounds very ancient," he said.

So, breakfast continued and there was just desultory conversation after that. Mum had sensed something. I suppose I was a bit fidgety. As we came out she cornered me.

"There's something special, isn't there?"

I had to grin. "More than you suspect," I said and sealed that with a quick kiss. Mum's are special, too.

As I dressed in my best suit I felt for the mended tear in my jacket. That was a miracle. My arm was OK now. That was a miracle, also. Mrs Henson had clipped the stitches on Thursday and they had come out with no trouble. I just had a light dressing over the almost healed hole which Tris expertly changed for me before I put my shirt on. His head wound was almost invisible now, too. He would have a slight scar on the bridge of his nose where he'd cut it but that would disappear I was sure. I must say we did look smart when ten o'clock came. In fact we all did. Polly and Caroline looked stunning. Waz and Kaz were in those indescribably expensive suits. Our eyes popped when Frankie and Pugsy appeared. Their suits were immaculate and so new and up to date. Wasim was smiling. "Only the best for them." They were really set up for formal College occasions now, as long as Pugsy didn't grow any more muscles! All assembled, with Mum, Dad, Adam and Nate, Auntie Dil and Uncle Nick, all under the watchful eye of Ignasz and young Karl and at ten twenty-five two huge limousines pulled up. Ivo came in. He was grinning broadly.

"All ready? All aboard!"

Mum, Dad, Auntie Dil, the girls and Wasim and Kasim were ushered into the first with Ivo beside the driver. The rest of us were in the second with Uncle Nick in the front. We were all relaxed and smiling as the powerful cars glided along Lindenstrasse and turned left at the Rodolferplaz and then into the road in front of the Palace. We sailed into a main courtyard past saluting guards and a military band. "What the Hell!" Frankie mouthed as he took in the spectacle. "I thought it was just going to be a quick handshake."

The cars slowed down as we passed through an arch into an internal courtyard and then came smoothly to a halt. The doors were opened by flunkeys in green livery. Each group of us were preceded into the main entrance hall and corridor of the Palace by a young officer with a drawn sword held straight up. It was so precisely done we followed almost as in a daze. We entered a huge, vaulted hall with chairs set out in patterns. Ivo, Tris and I were led to three, dark blue, velvet covered ones to the left of a lectern and facing it. The others in the party were escorted to a bank of identical chairs to our left directly opposite the lectern. Gradually others came in. Mr Marriott came and sat behind us. The rest of our group filtered in with Gran sitting at the end of the front row next to a carry-cot containing George Henry, I assumed, as 'Tory was in the next seat.

There was music playing. Yes, a string quartet, plus Dr Schreiber at the grand piano, with Dr Valentin standing beside him turning the pages. I noted Isolde was playing her cello and I recognised the last movement of Schubert's Trout Quintet.

Across from us were more chairs with a row of five in front of them, with another two a couple of feet away. Five very solemn looking boys filed into them. Our Baker Street Irregulars. All in Sunday suits, looking well-scrubbed. They were followed by Jerzy and Tad who occupied the other two seats. What we took to be parents and other relatives were already in the seats behind them. Lastly, a door behind where our group were sitting opened and a number of extremely smart soldiers marched in led by an officer in full dress uniform, also with a drawn sword. It was Andrei and the squad who had been at the house. He gave a quiet order and sheathed his sword as the soldiers stood easy. Behind them others came in. I saw the Adjutant with his assistants including David in plain clothes and another Army Officer in full dress. Yes, that was Lucasz

Everyone sat and watched. I caught Frankie's eye and he gave a surreptitious thumb's up. Suddenly, exactly at eleven there was a clatter as the big doors at the other side of the room were flung open and two smartly dressed page-boys in old-fashioned green livery stood beside the open doors. Oh! One of them must be Andrei's brother. A personage dressed in a morning suit of white tie and tails came in and stood by the lectern. I guessed he was the Chef de Protocol or Chief Equerry. He was carrying a long, black, silver-topped stick which he rapped smartly on the floor three times.

In perfect English he announced "Your Royal Highnesses, Your Excellency, Ladies and Gentlemen, please rise." He repeated this in Rothenian and I'd noted he'd inclined his head towards where Kasim and Wasim were sitting, then towards Mr Marriott, as he said the opening words. He raised his voice and banged the stick on the floor once more. "His Most Pious and Steadfast Majesty King Rudolf the Sixth!" There was another clatter as the soldiers came to attention and Andrei and Lucasz saluted.

Yes, there was Rudolf, also in a tailcoat, followed by the Cardinal-Archbishop in his scarlet robes with Father Artur beside him. He had his usual black cassock on but I could see he now sported red buttons and had a red sash around his waist. Oh, my! He was now a Monsignor! Following that pair were the General and the Colonel in full dress uniforms and then the Rector in a magnificent academic robe trimmed with silver. Behind them came the Minister and two others, another man and a lady. Oh, she must be the Minister of Justice's wife as she was skinny and looked almost anorexic!

As they arranged themselves to our right, where more seats were, the Cardinal stepped forward. In both English and Rothenian he asked for this ceremony to be blessed. He made the sign of the Cross and I felt that warm zephyr I'd experienced both here and at Ulvescott. I knew others were present, too.

As the Cardinal turned the Chef de Protocol banged the stick again. "His Majesty."

Rudolf stepped up to the lectern. Though he was younger than us he was every inch a King. He turned and looked at everyone in the room. He raised his right hand.

"Please be seated." He then repeated this in Rothenian and added something for the soldiers who stood easy again. I saw Father Artur move over to where the parents of the boys and others were sitting. Rudolf then continued in English while Father Artur translated quietly.

"My friends." He indicated us all with a gesture. "During the past few weeks our country has experienced upheavals which none of us would ever want to occur again. You will have heard that evil forces have been at work. This is so. However, those forces overreached themselves and their plans and machinations have been overcome through the bravery and steadfastness of a small number of young men who are present today. Each in their own way has contributed to the conquest of the wickedness which has been festering within our beloved country." He looked round the room. "We pride ourselves on being open, liberal in our thoughts and ways, but there are those who distort these qualities and abuse them to their own ends. For the moment and, I hope, for a long time in the future, those people have been conquered and others will be deterred from trying to take their place."

He looked over at Tris and me and smiled. "From what started out as a mission to return objects which had been in the safe keeping of a College in Cambridge has ended with the cleaning out of what one can only describe as nests of vipers. Vipers intent in undermining the peace and stability of many aspects of the life in this country. In between were acts of bravery which are to be rewarded today."

He turned and moved from the lectern and held up a finger. A second black-suited official stepped forward and took his place and bowed his head to Rudolf. "His Majesty has made it his duty and pleasure to confer the following awards..."

I was aware that Mr Marriott had stood and was now by my chair.

"...To Mark Henry Foster, of the United Kingdom of Her Gracious Majesty Queen Elizabeth the Second, the noble Order of Henry the Lion in the Second Class."

I stood as James Marriott nudged me and walked as steadily as I could to stand in front of Rudolf. Another official held a tray towards him. He picked up a medal suspended from a red and yellow ribbon and as I bowed he put it over my head. "You deserve more in my opinion," he whispered. In a louder voice he said "In the name of Rothenia I present the insignia of this award in token of your bravery and courage. Our country is honoured to have you as a guest."

Tristan Wallis Price-Williams was next. He got exactly the same treatment as I heard the whispered words before the louder announcement. Ivo didn't get a medal. He was presented with a scroll and the whispered words, 'Bloody protocol. You'll get the works sometime!', before being praised for his actions and diplomacy in full voice.

So the presentations continued. Andrei was addressed as 'Major' before being presented with a medal on a ribbon as well. I think it was called the Flaviener Cross. We would see it later as all I could see now was a silver Maltese Cross on a fetching rose red ribbon. From the way the soldiers reacted he had been promoted in the field! Likewise Lucasz was now 'Captain' and received the same award as Andrei. Then all the squaddies got promotions and pinned on medals, Sergeant up to Sergeant-major, Corporal to Sergeant and the Privates were all now First Class. The secret policemen were just announced as 'Herr' This or 'Herr' That, but each got a medal as well. Jerzy and Tad were presented with scrolls and a small red box each. I got the impression there were signet rings of some sort in them. All the time a photographer was snapping away silently and unobtrusively.

Finally, five brave young men were called forward one by one and received what the announcing flunkey called the Humanitarian Medal of St Lukacz. Each received a personal word from the King as well. As they stood in a row before him the two youngsters who had been on duty at the doors came through the big open doors. They marched in step and were carrying parcels. Oh my God! I cringed. These were the parcels I'd left with 'Tory containing the England rugby shirts. On top of each parcel was the brown envelope containing the copy of the Sherlock Holmes book. Rudolf turned to Tris and me. "Your turn," he said. Who had primed him? Nothing for it.

We stepped forward, remembering to bow our heads towards him. The first young lad handed me a parcel and the envelope. Yes, they were in order, Tomas first. I don't think he'd quite recovered from receiving the medal from the King and when I loomed over him he nearly dropped to one knee. "Tomas. You were very brave. You tackled like a proper rugby player." I handed him the parcel and the envelope containing the book. It may have sounded trite but I repeated it for Igor and Frantischek, then Tris said the same to Yniold and Pyotor. The King was heaving with suppressed laughter which was quite understandable and there was a quiet murmur among the onlookers. What came next I was sure was quite unrehearsed.

When the lads got back to their seats Pyotor placed his packages down and walked over to the grand piano where Dr Schreiber was still sitting. There was a nod and a smile. Dr Schreiber played the two-bar opening and Pyotor sang. If his voice had filled the large drawing room at the Schreibers it now quite effortlessly filled the vaulted hall. It was Sarastro's aria from the Magic Flute again. Not belittling the magnificent bass in the performance of Cosi on Saturday, but Pyotor's performance this day was truly from the heart. I was even more astounded than before at the maturity and richness of his seventeen-year-old voice. Older and trained he would be the toast of every opera house in the world. Even now he had the audience transfixed. He sang directly at the King. It was his gift in exchange for the honour he had been given. I looked at Yniold, especially when his loved one sang that second verse. He had such a smile on his face. A seraphic smile. He was a male embodiment of the beloved Saint. Yniold, you are destined for great things, too.

At the end there was silence, then applause. Spontaneous applause, which also rang round the room, led by the Intendant who was sitting behind Gran. Pyotor bowed his head towards the King who beckoned him. He came across and Ivo whispered what the lad had said in Rothenian, 'For you, Sir'. The King placed his hands on Pyotor's head and said something. 'A blessing' whispered Ivo.

That was not the end. The Rector came over to the King who beckoned me to stand again. As I stood the Rector announced "For your contribution to scholarship I am instructed by the Senate of the Rodolfer University to admit you to the ad eundem Bachelor degree of the University". He gave me a cardboard tube embossed with, I assumed, the arms of the University. Yes, I'd heard that graduates of Cambridge could apply for an equivalent degree at Oxford without having to be examined. I was now also a graduate of the Rodolfer.

But things weren't over. It was Tris's turn. The wraith-like wife of the Minister of Justice came forward closely followed by Monsignor Artur. She stood in front of Tris holding another tube. She said something in rapid Rothenian which the Monsignor translated as 'The Faculty of Jurisprudence of the Rodolfer University and the Society of Advocates of the Kingdom of Rothenia have asked that I present you with the invitation to become a Foreign Associate of the Society of Advocates in recognition of your actions in pursuit of the cause of justice in this our country. Please accept with the thanks of the Ministry of Justice as well.' Tris bowed his head and his cardboard tube was handed over. Ivo whispered she had presented it as the Minister had a stammer.

Still not quite the end. Everyone stood as the players launched into what could only be the stirring sounds of the Rothenian National Anthem. Mercifully short, but sweet! That completed Rudolf raised his hands. Before he said anything Ivo whispered "It's the Blessing, the 'Pensk Pozechnen'. Quite an occasion!"

When finished Rudolf turned and gave us a smile before being escorted out by the other dignitaries. The Chef de Protocol indicated we should all sit. I was somewhat breathless after all that and watched as the younger of the two page-boys took a sixth parcel to a rather startled boy in the front row of the parents and relations. That must have been the sixth shirt and the boy was Franzl's brother. The Chef de Protocol then walked to the doors where the two page-boys bowed to him and then closed them and stood looking at the crowd who were rising and beginning to mingle. The soldiers stood easy and with a great smile on his face Andrei nodded towards the taller page-boy and both came over to me.

"Bastian, meet your cousin," Andrei said. He couldn't contain himself and, as the lad stared, he hugged me so tightly I was even more breathless. As he let go I saw an excited group coming towards us led by Dad, Aunt Sophie and a lady who looked just like our Aunt. She grabbed me and hugged and kissed me as soon as Andrei let go.

"I'm Andrei's mother," she announced quite unnecessarily, it was so obvious. She gave me another kiss before turning and hugging Dad, then Aunt Sophie and went down the line greeting Gran, Ivo, Adam, Nate, Mum, Tris's Mum and Dad, Frankie, Pugsy, Tris and the Arab lads with Dad just shaking his head in amazement following her and saying who each was. Ivo explained to us that 'Tory had distributed the family tree just before the ceremony so everyone had more than one thing to cope with. Mum was mouthing 'Wait until I get you alone!' at her.

Frankie stepped forward. He grabbed Bastian's hand and was shaking it vigorously. They could have been twins. Bastian was younger, but had the same dark hair, his eyes and nose were definitely our family. The resemblance was uncanny.

"Am I too old to be a page-boy? I think the uniform would suit me, don't you think so?" Toad asked, standing back and smirking.

He was looked up and down with a look only Toads could produce. "Only good- looking boys may apply, like Marek and me,..." the Krote replied. "...But you are very handsome," cousin Bastian continued. Toad and Krote were lost in a tremendous hug.

After that it was pandemonium. What we hadn't realised was that the Colonel had also been raised a rank and was now a Brigadier from today so he was being congratulated all round. But we also had to cope with our Irregulars who had whipped off jackets, shirts and ties and had their England rugby jerseys on with their medals pinned by the English rose and wanted to shake hands and ask about the books. We let Ivo explain about the Baker Street Irregulars and hoped a Rothenian translation of the term would be comprehensible to them. A shy young lad came up and bowed holding his shirt. "I am proud," he said, articulating the words carefully, "Thank you!" 'Tory brought over the other page-boy. "Meet Marek my favourite pupil!" she said putting an arm round his sturdy shoulder. He blushed a bit at that recommendation, which helped to highlight his acne-ravaged features. But, he was a handsome lad nevertheless. Yes, he had spilled the beans about the parcels!

Our medals were inspected and we had to promise that full stories would be told. Of course, Andrei and Lucasz had to be congratulated on their awards and promotions. Adam and Ivo were photographed with Andrei and his mother and the whole family were arranged in various groups as cameras flashed. Another door opened and a smiling Monsignor Artur came through. We congratulated him as Dr Valentin behind him murmured 'Not before time!'.

"His Majesty sends his regards and says the lunch arrangements have been changed and he will be here shortly and your meeting should start at two."

What we thought was to be a private lunch turned out to be a huge buffet lunch for all. James Marriott explained that as our lot were destined for the six o'clock flight back to England the King has suggested all should be fed and we could have our tete-a-tete afterwards as we were staying on. 'All' included everyone who had been at the ceremony. The whole concourse were ushered through to another large room where tables were laid out, covered in tasty morsels, and glasses of fruit wine were distributed by young waiters and waitresses. It was just stupendous.

Rudolf came in with little ceremony and circulated speaking to all the parents who were quite overawed and then so relaxed. The Cardinal chatted to everyone and the new Monsignor looked as happy as a sand-boy. The Rector laughed when I thanked him. "You must come again and bring Professor Tanner with you." Tad and Jerzy said that Brett and Fido were coming back in a fortnight's time and were to spend a month at the Botanic Gardens and with the nurserymen in Rechtenberg staying at Jerzy's Grandfather's house while there. They would be meeting Stepan as well. Why Jerzy winked as he said that was a mystery! Not on your life!!

The Minister made a beeline again for the pair of us. He looked so much more relaxed and was quite forthright. He grabbed Andrei who translated for him. "I am so grateful to you. I can only say you have saved my career. His Majesty will not accept my resignation." Bear hugs weren't in it. It might be a Rothenian custom but I had been manhandled so many times in the last half hour my body felt crushed. Still, mustn't grumble we had achieved much and from the look on the Intendant's face, who had followed him over, the subsidy for the opera house was not in question, now or for ever.

Andrei's mother was sorry that most of the family were off home. "I have talked to Andrei and he will drive you and Tristan to our house at Wendel tomorrow if you like. Adam and his friend will come, too. You must all meet Klaus and my mother." We said we would be delighted. Our flight back wasn't until Thursday afternoon. She laughed and pointed. "I think you will be entertaining Bastian before long if Francis gets his way."

There was a great laughing huddle around Frankie. He was handing wads of postcards out to the Irregulars and explaining to them, Marek and Bastian all about the cellars at St Mark's. Wasim, Kasim and Pugsy were more intent in consuming goodies. Getting strength up for labouring work on the morrow no doubt. Polly and Caroline were chatting to David and Lucasz and I thought 'No good, girls, they're both spoken for!'. Sir Henry had the Brigadier and Chef de Protocol in deep conversation while Lady Mary nursed an uncomplaining George Henry who was being cooed over by every lady present. Uncle George was cross-examining Tad about Rothenian farming practices, no doubt, and finding out about his hybrid discovery. Jerzy was being a perfect host and was escorting Uncle Nick and Auntie Dil round the room pointing out the various rather ornately framed pictures of past Rothenian royalty and dignitaries.

I think we shook hands with everyone. With Monsignor Artur translating I congratulated Pyotor's mother and father on having a son with such a glorious voice. She explained that his great-grandfather had been the solo cantor in a monastery choir in Russia. "I am so happy," she said. Tomas's mother had tears in her eyes as we praised her son. Igor's mother was there with his young sister and was wearing an embroidered Slavic-style headdress and blouse in recognition of such a momentous occasion. And so it went on.

We saw Rudolf disappear with the Cardinal and Monsignor Artur and thought we'd better say our goodbyes to the family. We were due back in Cambridge on Thursday and Adam informed us there was to be a gathering at Ulvescott at the weekend so prepare ourselves for a long session with the Colonel! We had to prise Gran away from the two musicians as all three were discussing teaching methods and playing techniques. The labourers, Royal Highnesses maybe, but hungry like any other lads, were now looking replete and Pugsy was finishing off at least his third glass accompanied by thirsty Adam and Nate who had found what suspiciously looked like champagne tucked away behind the makeshift bar and had beckoned over Lucasz and Mr and Mrs Marriott to share their bounty.

A slightly flustered official came round and gathered Tris, me, Ivo and Andrei and escorted us out to goodbye waves from everyone else. We walked along a gallery with more old paintings I really wanted to look at as they seemed a bit more interesting and finally came to a beautifully furnished room, a gentleman's study which wouldn't have looked out of place in a Cambridge College don's set. A liveried waiter served us coffee after Rudolf had welcomed us. He indicated comfortable easy chairs as the flunkey left and closed the door. He looked at each of us in turn smiling.

"I know others have been involved but you four have cleaned up a great deal of the mess which has been fouling our system. I am being quite open with you. Even our intelligence services were not really aware of much which was going on. We discovered very quickly that payoffs and bribes were being distributed rather widely amongst certain of our supposedly loyal civil servants and police. A bit like New York in the 1970's the Brigadier has admitted. His group are monitoring other factions that have come to light and we may have more trouble at some time. Our Armenian friend is singing his heart out hoping this will mitigate whatever's in store for him and what he's told us so far just shows the depths of evilness we still have to deal with. However, I leave all that to my loyal supporters and the wheels of justice.." He looked directly at Tris and me and put his hands together almost in an act of prayer. "Whatever you have done I thank you from the depth of my heart." He then looked at Andrei. "We will dispense with ranks and titles for this meeting. Before I ask you to brief me on everything you know, Andrei, tell me about your good news."

Family history to the fore. Andrei had it off pat. Ivo and I then explained a bit about our other connections. Rudolf laughed especially about the birthmarks but we didn't have to show them off. Andrei was given an immediate week's leave to join us at Ulvescott with Bastian. Rudolf had Bastian taped. "He's like your brother, isn't he, Mark?" I grinned and nodded. It was then down to detail. We each explained our part in the whole enterprise. Rudi, as he insisted we called him, absorbed it all. He was particularly interested in our descriptions of the interventions by St Fenice. Firstly at the house, but when we got to the shooting-up of the car he picked up a document off the low table in front of him.

"My experts cannot explain how any of you survived. The car was riddled with bullet holes but no bullets have been found. The gun used was a new version Uzi and there was no way the thug could have missed." He smiled. "You were certainly under protection and the other thing is the car took no more than thirty seconds to get from the site of the shooting to the forecourt of the hospital according to eyewitnesses and official records of the times involved."

I said about my feeling of time disappearing and the voice. Ivo said he hadn't finished dialling before he realised we were at the hospital. Andrei just shook his head. "I don't remember driving that bit. I just assumed I had been in a state of shock." "No good asking me," said Tris in a mock lugubrious voice, "I was out cold."

Rudi said we and the boys were to be compensated for our injuries. Both Tris and I spontaneously said that wasn't necessary for us. Quite large sums were mentioned and we both agreed this money should go into a fund for needy students. The boys compensation would be useful to pay for their further studies. "Some of ours could be used for paying for Pyotor's training, too," I suggested. Rudi said that Pyotor's singing had moved him greatly, it had been so spontaneous and showed a loving spirit.

We heard it wasn't the first time an apparition had been seen in Rothenia but no further details were given. Rudi said the stunning of the thugs at the house must have been another act of intervention as there was no other explanation. We also heard that the newly promoted Monsignor Artur was from a family, on his mother's side, which was descended from the same line as St Fenice. This perhaps explained his particular interest in medieval history and his rather uncanny way of appearing to know more than he let on.

Rudi was highly amused about the plant hunting and the suggestion about the brandy. "Your College will pay nothing," he said, scribbling a note on a post-it note. "We found enough money stashed away in Gorschkov's safes and in the Casino's undeclared accounts to float our economy almost. Your suggestion about needy students will be a priority for some of that, too. We want to increase medical services in our smaller communities and a couple of million euros here and there will start things rolling I think." More notes were taken. "Tell me more about the house and the Stein family?"

I had rescued my trusty shoulder bag from under the seat in the hall and opened it and handed Rudi the bundle of photos. He studied them carefully as I went through the details. He was particularly interested in the one of Brett holding the image of St Fenice and the copy of the one which was found in the house. I gave him copies which he said would go into the Palace Archive. Tris then said if the house still belonged to the family they didn't want it but had suggested it be gifted to the nation.

"We would have to see what the lawyers say," he said, looking directly at Tris. "As a Foreign Associate you can appear in our courts without further ado. I guess a release of claim to title is all that is necessary. Contact the Faculty for an opinion. I will write personally to Dr Stein and his son though, before anything is done. A clinic of some sort would be the best use. But be assured, that will be a priority." He turned to Andrei. "I am badgered by various factions either to restore titles of nobility, or eradicate them completely. I think leaving the status quo is a reasonable middle way." He smiled again "I assume you don't want to be a Count just yet?"

It turned out that Andrei was a descendant of the brother of the original Count of Glottenberg, an offshoot of the Royal line, and was entitled to the rank as were his father and brothers. I laughed and told Rudi about Uncle Francesco and Aldo and my brother's fascination with Aldo's Venetian titles, even if, like those of Rothenia, they were also defunct. "You can tell him I'm not scattering them like confetti whenever, but there's always a chance. Derring do or scholarship!"

We chatted on, quite relaxed. He was enjoying Oxford but was a little fed up with 'tuft-hunters' as he put it. His engagement to an American lady was a bit irksome because of the separation but she was due back in Europe soon. As we stood to leave he shook us all by the hand and reminded us that there was a television crew lurking. "There is always a welcome here for you and your families." He looked at Ivo. "Your work has been noted. I am sure that you and our new Ambassador will be with us for some time." He laughed. "If Marek is to be believed your wife is an angel in disguise even if she scares the pants off him. Give her my kind regards and I send a blessing to your son."

We filed out to be met by a beaming Mr Marriott who explained that Marek was the son of the Chief Equerry and was a great favourite of all in the Palace. As he led us out he said he had received his Royal Command to attend Her Majesty in London to kiss hands on his appointment as Her Ambassador to the Court of King Rudolf the Sixth of Rothenia. Ivo was happy, too. Rudi had handed him a small red box when he shook hands. Inside was a signet ring. The engraving read FIDENTIA. Andrei said we were to be ready by nine in the morning and he would be bringing Lucasz as well.

Our next port of call was a small room where a young reporter was waiting with a camera operator and sound assistant. Tris and I were interviewed in flawless English and had to display our medals and explain that we had originally come to give the Cardinal a box, for me to talk about Maths, and finally to find plants for the College liqueur. I had then been asked to give part of an organ recital as well. Off camera the reporter explained that our interview would be slotted into a complete reconstruction of all the happenings so that the whole truth of the corruption and villainy which had been uncovered would be given to the people. As a finale to all this we were whisked off up to the Cathedral where for four minutes I was filmed playing a silent organ as there was a said Mass in progress. The reporter said they would stitch in a suitable soundtrack. If Dr Valentin didn't fall down the stairs laughing he was very lucky. As we left the Cathedral he said he would contact me about a further recital. He nudged me as Monsignor Artur shook our hands. "I can't wait until the next Chapter meeting when Artur appears all dressed up!" They went off together, arm in arm, laughing.

It seemed almost a dream but in the trip back to the hotel in a smaller limousine there was no time to contemplate. No way. My mobile had pinged even before we skirted the Rodolferplaz. 'Just got to airport Luv from all Mum'. Moments later it pinged again. 'Tell Bazza I need mob num c u sat F xx for Tris'. Another ping. 'Dad says I have 2 send luv 2 u 2 F x'. At least his messages were just about intelligible and not just some even more greatly abbreviated txt-speak!

Ignasz was on duty. He said he was very proud of the boys and we had to show him our medals. He looked at them most reverentially. "Not many given." He reached down under the counter and brought out a copy of the afternoon edition of a newspaper. "Big story. Too many people after dirty money!" He made a finality gesture, finger and thumb and hand slashing across away to the right. "All done now. You are heroes!" There we were on the front page standing with Andrei. That photo convinced me we were related!

We explained we would be going to Wendel and probably staying the night with Madame Glottenberh who we had found was related to my family. He smiled.

"Doctor Glottenberh very good man. He should be in government here not in Brussels. My family come from near Wendel. It is Radelnrisse. A beautiful town by the river. But I like Strelszen, too."

We said we were very impressed with the whole country. "We will come back to see more," said Tris.

What a day. We lay side by side on our separate beds and just reminisced. I suppose what was most impressive was the demeanour of the young King. He certainly had a grip on things. "Dad said he's met one or two of his family," Tris said, "Nothing startling just dealing with inheritance problems, I think. Rudi was having quite a chat with him at one point but I didn't like to snoop."

"And from what my Dad said he'll be here with the orchestra before long. Our families are going to be associated with this place for a long time, I think."

Later in the evening we popped out for a snack and a drink at the bar along the road with Adam and Nate. Unfortunately we were recognised so didn't get a moment's peace. Not really unfortunate, we had done a bit to make this happy place happier!

Tuesday

As commanded we were up, fed and coffee'd and waiting with overnight bags in the lobby well before nine. Ignasz had been in Reception when we first went down about half seven. He gave us a copy of the morning paper. Lots of photos of the ceremony even though the captions were incomprehensible. Jelka must have sensed we might be recognised so we had been led to a secluded corner at the cafe. Adam and Nate sauntered in a bit later. They ordered the full breakfast so as soon as we'd finished our more meagre fare we left. We got back to the hotel after a good few bows and nods to find Tomas and Igor on duty behind the Reception desk. Both were wearing their England shirts and had the newspaper spread out in front of them. After they had greeted us warmly Tomas pointed at Igor. "Dirty boy. He sleep in his. He smell. My Uncle will say go home and not make guests' noses..." He paused. Vocabulary missing.

"...twitch," supplied Tris and did a good imitation of a rabbit. He went over to the counter and leaned over it. "Some ladies like the smell of hot boy. Makes them..."

"...sexy," a very switched on Tomas said. "He not. He makes boy sexy. Your friends come back soon and make sexy again."

Igor listened in silence not put out at all by the insinuations. He nodded. "I like lady when I am older. I try but she say I too quick. Boy better. Can do all things good no worry if quick he like do again."

We got the drift of his reasoning. We didn't question him as no doubt a disastrous encounter with premature ejaculation had occurred. Yep, the young lads' nightmare so we'd heard many times. Rather than get into further sexual discussion we went up to our room to collect our bags and Tris's laptop and camera. I said it was going to be strange linking up with another strand of the family and wondered what the other brothers were like.

"We're only meeting Klaus and we met Bastian yesterday. The other two are in Brussels so Madame said."

"I know," I said, "Andrei said they didn't move back to Glottenberg until after the Communists went though his father had worked for the government in Brussels as a representative."

Tris shrugged his shoulders. "Not very clear but no doubt we'll learn more." He laughed. "Have you got clean pants on? You'll have to be photographed again!"

Why did the birthmark gene hit both Toad and me and he got the sneer one?

We gathered up our clobber and went downstairs. No Adam or Nate yet. The boys were busy. A minibus had disgorged a new intake of visitors. Nine student-types with backpacks and loud voices. Americans. All male and some sort of team I guessed. They were tired and hungry we gathered as they had travelled overnight. Tomas's eyes were rolling in his head as he tried to answer a barrage of questions with Igor handing out room keys. Tomas gave us a pleading look. Tris took over.

"May I help?" he asked. Nine pairs of eyes focussed blearily on him. Questioning eyes all set in handsome faces mostly needing a shave. I guessed aged eighteen to twenty. As he said about the cafe next door I took in more details. All fairly tall, all with rangy bodies as far as I could discern, under what I assumed were letter jackets, with 'Drakes' on the back, on top of tee-shirts. A mixture of jeans and cargo shorts and large feet in sandals or trainers. They looked happier when Tris finished. He found out they were a water polo team from a Mid-West College touring various European clubs and universities. Rothenia hadn't been on their list but their last venue had been cancelled and they were running short both of money and patience. The cheapness of Rothenia had been the magnet. Four days here and then flying home.

Naturally, they praised Tris's English accent. He explained they could get by in English but German was readily understood. Luckily for them one of them had German ancestry and was quite fluent. Big, blond, and the smile he gave Tris reminded me of something. I stepped forward. I asked which College. Oh, God! It was the same one in Iowa that Adam had been at. One of them, also blond and six foot, remembered him. "That dude got my brother Jed out of big shit. He said Coach was about to chew his balls off and he got an A." He laughed. "No fucker in the football squad had ever got more than a C before! Is he here?"

At that moment the pair came through the door. Adam was just about swept off his feet. "You remember me?" the lad bellowed, "I was a kid then when you came to the farm!" Adam was flummoxed. It wasn't every day you get grabbed by such a beauty. There was an excited gabble and all became clear to him. The others dispersed and went upstairs led by Igor while the lad, Ethan we learned, poured out his brother's still repeated praise. Ethan looked at Adam and Nate then at Tris and me. "You together," he asked quietly, his gaydar must have been zinging. We all nodded and Tris reached down and grabbed my hand. Ethan looked at Adam. "You guessed?" Adam said he thought that Jed might have been gay. "Me, too," said Ethan, "I'm with Freddie." We hadn't realised but the other blond hunk was standing about three steps up on the stairs. He joined us and we all shook hands. We said about the Spa and they laughed. "Got a couple in the team who could do with a bit of loosening up," said Freddie, "Very Strict Baptists!"

Adam said a session in the nude in the hot bath should baptise them again. "Best of luck if you can seduce them!"

They went off up the stairs laughing just as Andrei came through the main door. He was dressed as we were in casuals with chinos rather than cargoes. Tomas drew himself up to his full height and greeted him with the Rothenian bow. More greetings in Rothenian then Andrei came over and gave each of us a hug. He turned back to Tomas who was watching intently. He said some more in Rothenian. He grinned as he turned back. "I have explained you two are my cousins and we go to meet my family. I said I will bring you back safely tomorrow!"

Outside was a familiar vehicle. A black SUV. It was the one the thugs at the house had abandoned. He explained it had been repaired and he'd been lent it for the excursion. No Lucasz. We were picking him up near the Signals Officer's Mess. So we were off.

Again a motorway. We sped along taking in the countryside, bypassing villages and towns, chatting away. Lucasz wanted to know more about Ulvescott and the people there. Adam was a mine of information. We learned about the great friendships between the older ones and the continual comings and goings of family and the entertainment of various Arab dignitaries. Adam said the Sheikh fully approved of what Wasim and Kasim were doing. I said they seemed such a nice pair and as Adam knew Mrs Coombs the description of our arrival caused great merriment. We stopped at Luchau and had coffee at a restaurant near the river. Lucasz took over the driving and, I think, drove even faster than Andrei! Just on twelve fortyfive we drew up at a pair of magnificent gates which opened automatically and drove up to a large mansion. Built in the same style as the one at Gastberg but bigger and in pristine condition. Bastian was sitting on the steps and jumped up as we approached.

More Rothenian hugs and I noted he gave Lucasz a very special one. He approved of his brother's choice. He led us up the steps to the open door where his mother then greeted us with kisses all round. Oh dear, I hadn't sorted out how to address her. Madame, cousin, Margaret, Mrs Glottenberh? No problem. "Call me Margaret," was the instruction. Two more to come. Again the family resemblance was there with the first. Klaus was about Tris's height, a bit shorter than me, but the black hair, eyes and nose were unmistakable. It turned out he taught French and Italian at the local Gymnasium and was unmarried and lived in a small house by the river. Lastly, we were led into a large sitting room where Mrs Forsythe was sitting. She was ensconced in a high-backed armchair. She apologised for not being able to get up easily as she had arthritis.

"Och, I'm so delighted to see you," she said in a smooth Edinburgh accent, "I hear you have had such adventures." She looked at me very keenly as I bent down and kissed her cheek. "You look just like my brother when he was younger. And, look over there!" She pointed to a picture on the wall. Two boys on a beach, one with a fishing net on a pole, the older one holding a crab and both dressed in the early equivalent of Speedos. I went over to look closer. It could have been Francis and me, or me with one of the twins aged about thirteen and ten. Mum had a snap of us two on Brighton beach standing almost in the same poses, no net, no crab. Yes, the birthmarks were there and the family likenesses again. Bastian came up behind me.

"This is mine," he said, pulling up the leg of the knee-length shorts he was wearing. It was definitely a case of 'I'll show you mine if you show me yours'! Mother intervened though.

"Let Mark alone," she said laughing, "I expect there'll be a photo session later. Lunch first, though."

But, before that we were ushered up the curving stairs and shown our bedrooms. No pretence. Double beds. We dumped our bags and went down again.

It was just talk, talk, talk over lunch and then sitting on the shady verandah sipping coffee. Tris was most intrigued with the set-up. Margaret explained the house had come down as part of the Glottenberh family estate. This had got eroded over the years, even more so when her husband's father had gone more or less into exile in France at the end of the War when it was sequestered. He had then settled in Belgium and had a successful career in the brewing industry there. Andrei's father had studied in Paris and then was a lecturer in Politics and Philosophy in Brussels before being asked by the Commies to be a representative with the European Union in that city. This had caused a bit of heart-searching, but Rothenia came first even with such a regime in control. At the downfall of Communism in the country he had been appointed as a full representative and was in charge of the Diplomatic Mission now. Andrei's eldest brother, Edward, was one of his assistants while Peter, the third brother, had a post at the brewery just outside Brussels. Both were married, Edward with two boys and Peter with one. No birthmarks so far.

The house had been returned to the family in 1991 and was in good condition as it had been used as accommodation for guests of the regime. Andrei looked over at Adam and Nate. "The room you're in was the favourite of the East Germans but they didn't know the place was bugged like their's was supposed to be. Lucasz has seen the original records in the Archives. Tell them!"

Margaret was laughing, she'd heard it before and from the expressions on Klaus's and Bastian's faces they had as well. Quite racy as the recordings included the pillow talk between one particular occupant of the room and the 'lady' who had been included in the entourage but wasn't his wife. Lucasz said there were several where the bed was shared with 'boyfriends' even though the East Germans were anti-gay. "I think they liked coming as the place was so much freer than their own country."

"No different now," said Adam, "Boyfriends to the fore!"

Yep with six committed in residence I just wondered about Klaus and Bastian. Klaus seemed a little withdrawn. Bastian, on the other hand, was bubbly and, Heaven forbid, very like brother Francis. No, not Heaven forbid, my Toad was bearable even in more than small doses. It was obvious Bastian idolised Andrei and kept looking between Lucasz and him as if weighing up what ticked in such a relationship. In a suitable interval I said Frankie wanted Bastian's 'handy' number. The look on his face was then pure pleasure.

"I will send a message now," he said, pulling out a very up-to-date small phone from his shorts' pocket. Tris flipped him his phone and the techno-savvy youth thumbed through and found Toad's number which he transferred to his own device. He laughed. "I must remember to put 44 for United Kingdom, eh?" Yeah, techno-savvy!

A bit later we all decided to wander round the large garden which bordered on a tributary of the Radeln river. Tris and I peeled off from the others with Bastian as our guide. He said he wanted to show us a folly, in the English style, built by an ancestor in the late 1700's. It was an excuse to talk. As usual with Rothenians he was straight to the point. As we stood looking at the shell-encrusted grotto with water cascading down and pouring out from the mouths of jars and urns held by putti he said, quite matter-of-factly, " I think I am more gay than straight. I have asked Andrei to tell me how he knew. He says he just did know. He said yesterday to ask you. You do not mind?"

Bless Tris's kind heart! We sat on the grassy bank outside the grotto. With Tris's careful questioning we found he had experimented with a lad from the Gymno when they were both fourteen. Nothing more than wanking together and each other it seemed, as much was said with gesture rather than words. The other boy stopped as he'd confessed to the local priest who had more or less told him his dick would shrivel and fall off according to Bastian's amused account. "He had a small dick anyway and he was worried. I still like him and we work together but nothing else. His dick OK now, he's grown!" He laughed and held his fingers about five inches apart.

Tris was also forthright. "And what do you think of when you...?" He probably stopped in case Bastian didn't know the word 'wank', and 'masturbate' might sound a bit stuffy, and if he wasn't into literature on the Web then 'jerk off' may have been too American. No problem! He cottoned on immediately.

"...We say 'strhunt', but in English I think you say 'jerk off' or 'wank', eh?" Yeah! Nifty must be on his reading list. He looked quite solemn. "I think of other boys. Is it because I am with boys at the Gymno?." He shook his head. "I do not know any girls. I have been to dances but, no, I do not dream of them."

"Anyone special?" Tris probed.

He was nodding. "There is Waclav. I try not to look at him all the time in class but we sit together..." He sniffed. "...He looks at me and I wonder... I cannot tell. His father is the pastor of the Lutheran Church and I am Catholic. I have a feeling he is like me. We speak in English together and he is so kind. He comes here and my Mother helps him with English, too. I am not sure. Do I ask him?"

I butted in - here was a mixed-up lad who needed help - "We are going to explore Wendel in the morning. Why not invite him and say you have English friends staying and it would be good practice for him? We might be able to say something especially if he sees us together."

Oh my, Bastian when you smile you're enough to make any gay boy's heart surge!

"I will ask now. Thank you." He stood up. "I show you something special first. You stand here." He guided us to the mouth of the grotto and placed us in the middle. He disappeared for a moment. The cascading water carried on but now we were in direct line as the putti started pissing all over us. Hidden jets in six miniature cocks! He must have turned on another tap to catch the unwary. The unwary caught Bastian as he emerged. Two dripping large putti held him as his shorts and pants were lowered and he was held so a spurting stream of cold water hit him straight between the cheeks of a well proportioned arse. He was squealing and squirming so hard he was powerless. The Krote had been subdued. Some hope. As we let him down he hopped, toad-like, wet garments round his ankles, and disappeared again. A second tap must have been turned and the unwary were awash again. This time from jets concealed below and pointing upwards. Krotes with drawers round their ankles, rather than a Tarnhelm on their head, are just as easy to catch. That nicely rounded backside was slapped to howls of delight which drew other spectators.

"I thought he would," said Andrei who had Nate in attendance, "Thank you for giving him what he deserves. Last time he did that was when we had an Ambassador visiting. Luckily, he had a sense of humour and Bastian was tripped up into the pool. I think a good smack is better."

The Krote was not subdued. He looked at me. "Your shorts are wet. Take them off and let me check you have the birthmark."

Nothing for it. My cargoes were soaked and flapping so I slipped them off and slapped his bum again with the wet fabric. He hopped. His well-formed dick flopped up and down. Yes. He'd also inherited another patch of the French gene. I displayed my inner thigh. Yes. We matched. He launched himself at me and I had another hug. Simultaneously Tris and Nate pointed at Andrei.

"OK, OK," he said resignedly, "Better join in. He undid the top of his chinos and a third birthmark was on show. Of course I hugged him with Tris and Nate laughing. One to go.

I spread my cargoes on a convenient bush to dry and Tris did the same and we continued the conversation now with the others present. I said Bastian had talked to us and wasn't sure. Andrei nodded when Tris added we'd suggested his friend Waclav came with us tomorrow morning.

"I approve of Waclav," he said, "He is quiet and I think strong-willed." He pointed at his brother. "He would keep you in order!" Yes, Krote had inherited another bit of that gene shared by Toad but not me! The sneer was exact. It would be instructive to see the pair in concert!

We hadn't been sitting long before Klaus and Adam joined us. No more displays, though. It was decided to have a proper line-up when we got back to the house and we could stand under the picture. I remarked how good their English was, but they were also fluent in French, German and Rothenian, with Klaus having added Italian. I felt a bit inadequate, but said that living on an island with the rest of the world, including the Americans, apparently speaking English, meant we spent little time on other languages, anyway it saved time for other interests. Sneers all round! Klaus said he was sorry he couldn't come to England this time. He had promised to visit a friend he'd studied with in Paris whose family had returned recently to Ranstadt near the North border. Krote, out of view of older brother, was smirking and making boob shapes with his hands over his chest. Older brother guessed as our attention was diverted. He breathed out.

"The Dear Lord gives us little brothers to torment us, I am sure." He looked across at Andrei. "You are lucky you are in Strelzen most of the time. One more year and you can have him when he is at the Rodolfer!"

Oh Lord! I would be working in College and Frankie would be there. Young brothers!

Yes, Klaus was quite looking forward to meeting the young lady again. He smiled. "I must make up my mind. I haven't found anyone else."

Bastian was nothing if not kindness himself. "I would like another sister-in-law," he said almost winsomely. "I have seen her photograph. She is very pretty even though she is as old as you." Toadness had crept out. Two elder brothers upended him and his still-bare backside was slapped again.

That episode over and shorts now dry we dressed and the mechanism of the grotto was explained. In the old days there had been a system of levers so the unwary could be caught without anyway leaving as there had been two foot pedals controlling the turning of the taps. Bastian was determined the gadgetry should be repaired. I explained about the secret door in my set and how Logan's engineering great-great-grandfather had designed it.

"Isn't Waclav going to study Engineering?" Andrei enquired, "You could ask his advice."

I nudged Bastian and said quietly "Get him wet and his shorts off and..."

The squealing from having his bottom smacked changed to giggles. Both sounds were very erotic coming from such a comely youth as he.

Tris and I walked either side of him and Tris was questioning him about his role as page-boy at the Palace. He was so delighted he'd been chosen and he had to be back as there was a Diplomatic Levee next week. "And what about Marek?" Tris asked.

"No good for me," Bastian said, "He's a good kid but he's straight. Good fun, though. He knows all the secret passageways as he's lived there ever since he was born. Mustn't say how because he's sworn me to secrecy, but you can get from one side of the Palace to the other without being seen. Yes, I like him a lot but he's obsessed with some girl and she's gone away and he doesn't know when she'll be back." Better not say we know about her - Gorschkov's supposed daughter. "He tells me all the time how much he likes Mrs Carr. She's very strict but very kind, he says." Yes, no-nonsense 'Tory had also shown she was fond of her pupil.

"Have you been to the Spa in Strelzen?" Tris asked. Bastian shook his head.

"No, but I have heard it is good. Marek's father won't let him go as he says he is too young. Some boys at my Gymno have been and they liked it."

Arriving back at the house we found Lucasz who had spent the afternoon having an extended conversation with old Mrs Forsythe. He explained he was taking an examination shortly in English as a further military qualification and needed the practice. He was going to stay at the house over the weekend anyway so he would be made to speak English all the time. Mrs Forsythe then oversaw the photo session. Four young men were sent off with instructions to come back decent but showing off legs! Andrei supplied me with a pair of the minuscule running shorts favoured by Gabe and Josh. Luckily I had nice thighs and the line- up was in age order. Lucasz and Tris snapped away with us standing beneath the painting or arranged in the window alcove. Bastian had his hand slapped when he tried to raise the leg of my shorts another half inch. Three-quarters of an inch and my balls would have been on view, albeit encased in one of Unc's scarlet thongs. Dear boy. Before we left I did give him an example of Unc's design and I guessed it resulted in an immediate hard-on as he felt the silky texture with his fingers. Copies of the photos were then sent off to Frankie, Ivo and whoever opened e-mails at Ulvescott.

After another superb meal we sat and chatted again. Margaret and Mrs Forsythe went off to bed about ten and Bastian was allowed to stay up with us, 'not too late', was Margaret's command. Anyway, a bottle of fine old malt whisky was found and even Bastian was allowed a dram. In mellow mood we asked when would the pair be flying to England. Andrei sat up with a start. Nothing had been arranged in all the excitement.. No problem. He asked about our flight. Tris suggested if they could get the same one we could arrange a pickup - dear Charles at a pinch - and I said I thought the set opposite mine was vacant as the Summer School wasn't starting until sometime in July. That left getting to Ulvescott and back. Remembering Rothenian time was an hour ahead of British Summer Time I said we could hire a car if Andrei would drive but I would check with Ulvescott first.

In half an hour flights were booked to Stansted on Bastian's computer at what seemed a horrendous price. Charles was contacted, mainly to arrange accommodation, but he offered to pick us up at the airport. A call to Ulvescott resulted in Max phoning back to say he and Jak were in College adding bells and whistles to the computer set up and if we didn't mind a down-market Merc they could fit four small ones in Friday evening returning early Monday morning with the milk. Andrei phoned the hotel. Yes, a room would be available for Bastian tomorrow night and Monday night if necessary. I left a text message for Curt - he was probably at the Club - saying 'Be Prepared'. All this was most exhausting so we all had to have another dram!

Tris and I luxuriated in the comfort of that huge bed. "Not bugged, I hope," he said as he went Southwards. My moans of delight would have set any bugger - oops - off! He was even more vocal and I had to shut him up by sharing his offering to me with him. We slept soundly after that secure in the knowledge we had the protection not only of Andrei but a force for good even more so than him.

I think we woke together. A perfect morning. We had been told breakfast would be ready from seven onwards so trundled down soon after that. An appetising spread of the usual continental goodies was there with Andrei sitting in solitary state looking at a newspaper. He had quite a grim expression on his face. This lightened when he saw us and we had the usual hugs. He indicated the paper as we sat down having loaded our plates.

"Three junior ministers have resigned," he said, "One of them was that officer's eldest brother. What a blow for the family!" We knew he meant the one who had shot himself. "His office was riddled with corruption and apparently he knew and did nothing. You'll miss the television programme. It's scheduled for Friday but I'll arrange for a recording for you. I despair sometimes except I know things will work out." He grunted. "Maybe not for years but I was promised."

Now was the time to ask. Tris was ready.

"You said you'd heard St Fenice before. Is that what you mean?"

His whole body relaxed. "Not only heard her, but I'm sure I saw her, too." He smiled. "I was only six when it happened and I don't think people believed me then. My Mother and Grandma did but the others were sceptical." He humped his shoulders. "My brother Peter said I was seeing things and I shouldn't read so many fairy stories." He looked at us sitting the other side of the table. "Shall I tell you? I know you've seen and heard much more but we've shared things as well." We both nodded and waited while he poured another cup of coffee.

"It's still very clear," he said, "But I'd better tell you a bit of my history." He took a swig of the coffee. "As you know I was born in Brussels as my Father was working there but there were still some relatives still living here. There was one very elderly Aunt of his who had survived everything, but, like our family she had also lost her house. She ended up lodging in the cottage which her personal maid's family had. I think we had lost touch but a message came to my Father that she was very ill and he got permission to visit her and brought my Mother and me. Let's see... ...it must have been in the summer of 1986 as I was due to start school that autumn. The cottage was in a village not far from Tarlenheim on the other side of the country from here and there was a ruined abbey nearby. A very famous abbey in its time called Medeln." He sat and interlaced his fingers. "I think I was quite an adventurous little boy because I suppose I was fed up having to hang about while my Father and Mother visited his Aunt so I went exploring. Wonderful, just fields and lanes and lots of woods. Then, as I came to the edge of a small wood, I saw a stone building. It had a door which was open so being nosy and quite unafraid I went in. I went up a flight of stone stairs and came into a very decorated room. There were paintings all over the walls of people and scenes like I'd never seen before and there sitting in a large wooden chair was this very beautiful lady.

"Do you like my paintings?" she asked.

"I'd noticed a hunting scene with youngsters standing beside their knights on their horses. One of the boys looked familiar. I realised it could have been me. I pointed to him.

"Yes, Andrei," she said, "All my faithful knights are there and one day you will join them. You must learn like that boy to be good and faithful. You must promise me that."

"I was six and that painting was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen and I was in it. I knelt down and I promised. She raised a hand and like you I remember her red sleeves and she blessed me. I can't remember her words but I knew that whatever happened I would be safe and I would succeed. When she finished she raised one finger and I was sure she said 'Fidentia'. I knew that was part of our family motto as Father had told me never to forget and never waver. She smiled and told me to go home. I wandered around a bit more and must have been tired as I sat down and went to sleep and my Father found me and wasn't very pleased I had wandered off. I didn't say what I had seen until my Mother emptied my pockets and there was an old metal badge which had 'Fidentia' on it. I couldn't explain where I had found it but told her about my adventure. My Mother is very wise. She said stories about the Saint were well-known and I should always remember what I had been told. I have been back but the building is not there. An old tower it was according to drawings and paintings, just as I saw it. Once it belonged to the Counts of Tarlenheim, the family of St Fenice. Now just heaps of old stones scattered about. But I know!"

"And the badge?" Tris asked.

Andrei pulled down the top of his tee-shirt. He drew up a thin chain and a small polished badge was on it. "I wear it all the time. It's my talisman."

To be continued:

Next: Chapter 62: Mystery and Mayhem at St Marks II 29


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