The dinner at the Wollherz house was fascinating to James for more than one reason. For the first time in his life he felt part of a family, and it was strange to him that he had to travel halfway across Europe to find such warmth and closeness. With his Aunt Osra he recovered a relationship he had lost on his mother’s death, and very rapidly. She was an attractive combination of personal sympathy and an alert and profound intelligence which should be more properly called wisdom.
Then there were the Wollherz twins. He had met twins often enough but none like these. Though one conducted himself as distinctly male and the other was undeniably female the faces were identical, for Sebastian had no trace of beard on his chin. Then there was the timbre of their voices, which was also close to identical, for the light tenor of one shaded into the contralto of the other. If he allowed his mind to doubt the evidence of his eyes, he could easily imagine the captain as a girl and his sister as a boy. It was disconcerting in the extreme, and the pair in company played on it and were clearly amused by it.
‘Excuse my curiosity, fräulein,’ he remarked to the sister, who was sitting to his left opposite her brother, ‘but why did your parents add to life’s confusion by giving you the same name?’
Sebastienne gave a little laugh and looked across at her twin. ‘You’ll understand that our father is quite an enthusiast for your English dramatist Shakespeare, who is very much the rage in the Empire these days you know, since the French have fallen out of fashion.’
‘Ah, of course,’ said James, ‘Twelfth Night, the boy was Sebastian, though his sister was Viola, if I recall correctly.’
‘You do, your excellency,’ her brother grinned across at him, ‘but our mother objected that Viola was not a proper name for a Christian. In a fit of pique and mischief our father said we might as well both carry the same name in that case, and so we were baptised Sebastian and Sebastienne. My mother was compensated by choosing our other names, but as we grew we preferred to be as alike in name as we were in everything else, and my sister would have nothing to do with Cecilia, Petronilla and especially not Pudentiana.’
‘Our mother, sir,’ said Sebastienne, ‘is as quirky as our father, and resolved I would have to carry the burden of being a dictionary of virgin martyrs of the Roman church.’
‘Then I’m not surprised you preferred Sebastienne. And did you two ever get to perform in Twelfth Night?’
‘Indeed we did, your excellency, and in a performance our father staged at the court theatre of the Strelsau Residenz in Wieland’s translation.’
‘I’d imagine it caused quite the sensation.’
The pair laughed. ‘It was an entrancing conceit to be sure, but my brother has little memory for lines, and had to rely on shouted prompts from the wings,’ said Sebastienne.
‘His Majesty at least was amused, and said it made the performance for him. I was a young ensign in the Leibgarde at the time, and he graciously advised me to stick to the military profession. My sister shone in her role as Viola. A remarkably convincing male she made when the script called for it.’
Sebastienne rolled her eyes. ‘Yes, well I had years studying at close quarters the way you carry on did I not? Tell me, your excellency, how are you and your staff settling into Munich? I was impressed as to how young and able your people seem to be.’
‘They’re a talented crew certainly, and since they’re mostly under thirty they are of an age and get on well together. As boys do, they tend to pick on the youngest amongst them, which is Freddie Winslow, the junior clerk. But they don’t mean any harm and he takes it in good part. He’s only just twenty, but nonetheless a graduate of Cambridge University.’
‘Ah yes, the charming blond youth,’ said Sebastienne. ‘Is he intending to make a career in the diplomatic service?’
‘I offered him the post for a year only,’ James replied. ‘It was to help him out really, as he’s a family friend. He was intended to take holy orders on graduation but came back from university unsettled and unwilling to pursue the study of theology any further. His father is the local minister and well-connected in his profession. My mother, when she had control of my estate, appointed the father to several livings in our patronage, and two of them were being held for Freddie once he had served his curacy. It caused quite a storm in the Winslow household when he said he wanted no part of either curacy or the livings.
‘Myself, I admired the boy’s principled determination, but he had no clear idea what else he would do and home had become very uncomfortable for him. So his stay in Munich will give him space to think. He could make a diplomat of himself, I believe. But whether or not he will is uncertain. Myself, I think his abilities would fit the military profession better, he is cool-headed for his age and a very skilled horseman. I know he attended a fencing academy at Cambridge. When his time here is up, I may use what interest I have with the lord lieutenant – that is what we call a provincial governor in Britain – to secure him a commission in the East Norfolk militia.’
Sebastienne caught her brother’s eye. ‘Perhaps Sebastian might help. I’m sure he could offer some advice. He’s a captain of the guard and younger than your Winslow. We’ve been eighteen for only the past five months.’
‘That would be very kind. Perhaps you might send your card around to the embassy, captain? I think Freddie has had a few of his own printed.’
***
Following the dinner, the guests moved to the library where coffee and liqueurs were prepared. James found himself in a group in armchairs around the hearth with the field marshal and his aunt, while Henry got into what became a lively and indeed hilarious game of cards with the Wollherz twins.
James felt confident enough in the company to ask the princess what was at issue in her coming conference with the representatives of the Duke of Glottenburg. She exchanged glances with the field marshal before replying.
‘It is a little more complicated than balancing revenues, and since it involves four parties it needs a formal conference. The marriage contract granted me the revenues of the city and province of Ranstadt for life. I know that would make unacceptable inroads into the state budget of the duchy and I’m perfectly willing to compound for a fraction of that and a grant of the domainal forest of Belvoir in the mountains on the Bohemian border. It brings in little money to the state, but I have an affection for the place.
‘This has to be balanced however by compensation from Ruritania, whose revenues I also know are under pressure. Your father, James, is a dear man and has already made over to me a life interest in the castle and forest of Zenda which was in fact your grandfather’s settlement on me in any case. Rudolf has had to get imaginative so far as the rest is concerned, and has come up with the idea of copying the practice of the Bourbons by granting me the revenues of the royal abbey of Medeln in the province of Husbrau in commendam, for it is in vacancy at the moment.’
‘I take it, aunt, you aren’t intending to take the veil,’ James said, a little startled at the news.
‘Good heavens, no, though several Elphberg princesses have done so over the years and ruled the abbey and its great estates like little sovereigns. But if the archbishop of Strelsau agrees and His Holiness sanctions the arrangement, then I shall become the secular ruler of the not inconsiderable principality that goes with the abbacy. Rule of the convent itself will pass to the prioress of the house who is, as it happens, Franz’s sister and my good friend, Maria Radegunda.’
The field marshal chuckled. ‘Fortunately Maria is not an ambitious woman, and even though she might have expected the election she is happy to rule the abbey as prioress rather than abbess. She loves and respects your aunt, and was never happy with the secular duties that go with the mitre of the abbey. The abbess has the right of high justice in her principality you see, and felons are executed in her name by her court even if she does not sit in judgement on them.
‘Having said that, I do believe when Abbess Clothilde, the sister of King Rudolf I, had the abbey back in the last century she did judge cases of life and limbs. Much to the scandal of the local bishop, but he could do nothing about it as the abbey has an ancient papal privilege. So this Friday, the 27th of the month, the bishop of Luchau will represent the archbishop of Strelsau at the conference, and the papal nuncio to Köln, Monsignor Caprara, will represent His Holiness.’
‘So will you live at Medeln, aunt?’
The princess shook her head. ‘There is quite an imposing abbatial mansion attached to the cloister, but I have plans for Zenda and my brother is bringing our castle there into the modern era. That I think will be my principal residence, and it has the advantage of being only a couple of hours ride from Fürstenberg. That is where Franz has built his palace, a splendid edifice which quite rivals the Duke of Marlborough’s great house outside Oxford. I know there might be complications in your entering Ruritania, James, but I shall live in hopes that I will one day welcome you to Zenda.’
***
Freddie examined with some curiosity the first card that had ever been left for him in his social life to date. It was armorial, with the device of a rampant pegasus under a baronial coronet, the shield supported by two identical winged cherubs. Underneath was written in a bold hand, ‘Wollherz à l’onzième heure s’il vous plaît’.
‘What time is it Frank?’ he called over.
‘Five and twenty past nine, why?’
‘It appears I am to be visited by the Wollherz lady at eleven.’ Freddie passed him the card.
Frank scrutinised it and passed it back. ‘Odd that,’ he commented, and in response to Freddie’s raised eyebrow explained the remark. ‘German baronesses would seem to use a shield of arms, and not display their bearings on a lozenge as ladies do in England and France. I didn’t know that. But heavens Freddie, the lady wants the pleasure of your company. Where will you receive her? You can’t use the state rooms. You don’t propose to bring her up here do you?’
Freddie was dubious. ‘I could suggest a walk out? She may find that a bit feeble, don’t you think?’
‘You’re lost whatever you do. Fancy you’ve caught the interest of such a woman! How will you keep it?’
‘What on earth does she see in me? Is that what you mean?’
‘Something like that, Freddie. But nonetheless I am pleased for you. I notice her use of the card gives you no option other than to meet her at the hour of her determination, but then she’s an aristocrat and you are – let’s not beat about the bush – a priest’s brat. Excuse my papism, but I can’t get over the weirdness of priests having children. His lordship met her at dinner last night, so she must have agreed the visit with him. There’s no escape. Better check with Herr Abentauer that you can use the downstairs reception room. Maybe he may take pity on you and provide coffee.’
‘I can but ask, I suppose.’
No carriage rattled up to the door at eleven, and when a footman summoned Freddie down to the entrance hall he was astonished to find that the lady had dressed up in her cavalry officer’s uniform. He had no choice other than to meet her as a male, and so offered his hand to shake, which was gripped very firmly.
‘Er ... to whom have I the pleasure of ... er ...?’ he began intelligently in French.
The officer grinned, and startled Freddie by replying in fluent English. ‘Sebastian Wollherz von Stock, I believe you’ve met my sister?’
‘Oh! Well I never! I ...’
‘We’re twins, and in most ways identical, so I can excuse your confusion, Mr Winslow.’
Grappling to maintain his composure, Freddie’s mind ran through the possibilities. Was it possible the woman lived a double identity? No, that couldn’t be. Lord Burlesdon must have met this fellow as a man, and in company with his sister. But the next troubling question was, which of them had Freddie’s cock in his or her mouth at Karneval?
‘Are you sure we’ve never met before, sir?’ he rallied and asked.
The response was bland. ‘I do not think so, sir. You’re a well set-up fellow and I would have remembered, I’m sure. Now, in the dinner at my house in the Anger last night Milord Burlesdon suggested to me that it might be a good idea if you and I meet.’
‘Lord Burlesdon? And why would that be?’
‘The ambassador has a high regard for you, as he expressed it, and says you are at some loss as to what path to follow in life at present. He thought that it might be a good idea for you to talk through the option of a military career with someone your own age. And speaking for myself, I’m more than happy to associate with a friendly young face. Most of my life is spent with arthritic majors, aged colonels and decrepit generals. It’s what happens when you’re drafted as a royal aide-de-camp, you see. You are a friendly young face, are you not?’
‘I would like to think so, sir,’ Freddie stuttered. The boy’s amused self-confidence, sparkling eyes and entrancing smile, quite the equal of his sister’s, allowed no other response. Since he was not in fact his sister, Freddie was at least no longer obliged to offer him entertainment indoors.
‘Good. Then let us go down to the Alt Markt, sir,’ he said, ‘and my name is Sebastian, or Bastian to my good friends. And you are Friedrich or Freddie to your good friends, as I hope we will be. The coffee house called Der König von Böhmen is a smart place to be seen in Munich. If you do not know it, you should. The pastries are admirable.’
***
The coffee house was a step up from others Freddie had patronised. The Cambridge ones were furnished no better than public houses. This was more like a salon, with upholstered furniture and canvases on the walls, rather than benches and prints. The staff, clad in a dark livery, were male and young, which the customers all seemed to be also. Sebastian was greeted by several of them with enthusiasm. The language of the shop was German, and it was in German that Freddie was introduced around, as Herr Winslow von der britischen Botschaft. He had just enough mastery to be able to make the right responses.
He was signed in at a counter by his new friend and they settled round a small table. A coffee set and stand of pastries rapidly appeared.
‘Bastian, I get the idea that this establishment is not your usual coffee house.’
‘Meaning?’
‘I should think the prices are rather higher and the customers are from Munich’s elite.’
Sebastian laughed. ‘Are you nervous? Isn’t King George generous when it comes to your wages? But yes you’re right. This is more like one of your London clubs. I pay a subscription. It’s a new institution in the city, set up only last year by a group of fellows, some of whom I was at school with. My sister likes to come here.’
‘What! But ...’.
‘It’s for men only? Bessie ... that’s what I call her ... cannot be distinguished from me in any way when the mood is on her. She’ll dress up in my clothes and take to the streets as a man, and indeed as Bastian Wollherz, both for her amusement and to escape the limits the world puts on ladies of good family. I sometimes have to think twice when fellows here recall conversations with me which I definitely did not have. She’s not yet taken command of my half company of the Leibgarde back in Strelsau, but I wouldn’t put it past her to try and she’d pull off the imposture too. She’s as good with the sword and pistol as I am; she would say better. We fence together for exercise.’
Freddie was astonished at the nature of the confidences he was receiving, but rallied to reply. ‘So if I encounter a youth out in the world who looks like you, I shouldn’t assume it is you.’
Sebastian gave him a narrow look before replying. ‘My sister is a very talented and dauntless person, Freddie, and admits no constraint on her behaviour. She’s been her own mistress since she was fourteen. If you knew our parents you’d realise why. We can talk more of her later. But I should say that you seem to have attracted her attention for some reason. It was her idea as much as Lord Burlesdon’s that we should meet, and when she has these ideas I find it as well to go along with them. We always like the same people. So now, Freddie, tell me about yourself and how you fell out with your father.’
So Freddie told his tale of woe and of his gratitude to Lord Burlesdon for getting him out of a hole, though he would not say that as yet the diplomatic service had won him over. ‘Were you always intended for a soldier, Bastian?’
The boy shook his head. ‘I had a similar experience to yours. My family has a long history as horse breeders and dealers, and since we ended up as barons, you can assume we have been very successful in it. Karl Wollherz, the founder of the family concern, is a legend and he built up an enormous fortune in his trade. I was intended to follow in his very big footsteps, for as it happens I’m now the only male heir of the business.’
‘At least I didn’t have that argument to fight against.’
Sebastian grimaced. ‘It’s not a very logical one in any case. Karl Wollherz had no children and I’m descended from one of the godsons to whom he left all his wealth and property, who were four children of a Strelsauener family called Antonin who changed their name to his. My grandfather ended up as sole proprietor after buyouts and inheritances and he was raised to a barony by King Henry. Then my father Willem Jonas came into the business in his turn. The horse trade appealed to him rather more than it had to grandfather, who was something of a money lender and speculator. Father bought the house in the Anger here, as he based himself in Munich, which communicates better with the southern horse fairs than does Strelsau or Vienna. This is why we have a large stud out near Neuhausen and why Bessie and I were brought up mostly in Bavaria. Father’s back in Strelsau since grandfather died, and the house here’s more or less been resigned to Bessie now.’
Freddie digested this. ‘So you were expected to take up the family trade.’
Sebastian nodded. ‘Yes, and there were similar scenes to those you experienced when I announced at fifteen that I wanted to join the cavalry. In the end to win over our mother I had to compromise that I would go into the Guards and resign myself to being an ornamental soldier. So I entered the Leibgarde as ensign at fifteen, and when that went well father bought my commission as lieutenant and last year as captain of the colonel’s company, and now I’m everyone’s favourite adjutant at the Residenz.’
‘It sounds attractive to me. It would suit me as a life, but though I might talk my father into buying a commission, it would not be in any fashionable regiment, you can be sure.’
‘Now there’s irony. A working regiment is exactly what I’d prefer. I like my profession and its challenges. Anyway, let me tell you what an officer’s day involves, which is what I’m supposed to be doing, then maybe we can go and take a stroll up to the Hofgarten. Eat those cakes, Freddie!’
***
James was left with a number of questions after his night out at the Wollherz house, and he knew exactly where to go to find answers. He sent a note round to Henry Elphberg early the next morning and the reply came that His Royal Highness was at the Electoral Library that Thursday, but would meet him in the Antiquarium Hall of the Residenz at three, if that would suit. James smiled to himself at the consideration for him the choice revealed. Henry was well aware that his own sense of punctuality was negotiable and was offering him a meeting place where James could amuse himself in the likely event that Henry would forget the time.
So at half past three James was still inspecting the unique collection of Classical sculpture in the long barrel-vaulted hall, which it appeared was a place for the locals to promenade on a day of grey drizzle, such as that day was.
‘Hello Jimmy!’ came the hail from behind him. ‘Counting emperors?’
‘Is there really a portrait bust of every single Roman emperor here?’
‘Quite the collection, isn’t it? It almost qualifies as a mania.’
‘You should know, Heinz, being in your own way a maniacal collector.’
‘Tsk. It’s not the sort of day to walk in the Hofgarten, but there’s a beer shop on the west side of the Residenz I can recommend.’
They settled at a long table in a commercial cellar below the western palace wing. ‘This is not an experience I’ve yet had in Munich,’ James confided as he sipped appreciatively at the mug that arrived at Henry’s order. ‘Since Oxford I don’t often get to see the inside of beer houses. The earl of Burlesdon would terrify the locals if he put his head round the door of the White Hart or The Anchor in Burlesdon village.’
‘You haven’t missed much,’ Henry pronounced. ‘Depressing drinking holes the both of them, and their beer is unmentionable. Your Mr Stephenson and I had a long afternoon in the Anchor, discussing local flora. Informative, but it did nothing for my internal organs. I think it may be the quality of your local water as much as the ineptitude of the brewers. The beers of South Germany are a world away in quality, brewed with real dedication by perfectionist monks in local monasteries. Now there’s an idea, Jimmy. Scandalise the county and found a priory of Bavarian monks on your estates, with the twin tasks of praying for your soul and brewing fine wheat beers.’
‘I could not lose by it, I suppose,’ James agreed. ‘Half the neighbourhood already thinks the pope is skulking in the cellars of my house, plotting the death of Protestant England.’
He took a pull at his beer and commenced his questioning. ‘My dear Heinz, there was a lot not being said by my aunt and the field marshal last night, and it’s not just my imaginings. Is there some sort of crisis in the Rothenian lands you’d be willing to unveil?’
Henry raised his eyebrows in response. ‘I’m not sure what you mean, Jimmy.’
‘It just seems to me that an awful fuss is being made over Aunt Osra’s dower lands. Is there some crisis boiling up between Ruritania and Glottenburg? The new duke seems pretty eager to bundle his mother out of the duchy and take back what he can from the marriage settlement that was promised her. I can’t believe it’s just a shortfall in state revenues.’
There was a pause before Henry replied, taking a long pull of his drink first. ‘Our cousin the new duke is ... how do you say it in English? A “pain”? Though in some moods he is perfectly pleasant. But the fact is he envies the easy popularity of his mother in Glottenburg, where the people are devoted to her. He wanted any perceived rival for his subjects’ affection out of his duchy as soon as he could manage it, and was made very unhappy indeed by the many demonstrations of regard by both the nobility and commoners when she left for Bavaria. The roads out of Glottenburg were lined by the people as her carriage passed, and at every town she was met by delegations of the nobility and civic authorities who made presentations and speeches. John Casimir took this as a personal affront, but if so it was a humiliation he brought on himself.
‘I suppose Aunt Osra’s grace in dealing with his complaints about the settlement and refusal to use the big gun of our father’s power against him may actually have made things worse. He wanted to be the victim you see, standing up against the threatening power of the Elphbergs. He has a motive. John Casimir is just bright enough to see that the Rothenian people of Ruritania and Glottenburg are thinking of themselves as one people, and viewing the division into two states as an inconvenience it would be good to do away with.’
‘Ah! The Rothenian Question. Teddie Carfax briefed me on it,’ James interjected.
Henry smiled. ‘If it’s been noticed in the dispatches of the British diplomatic service then it must be a reality, and indeed a crisis, as you say. John Casimir is determined that he should be the banner bearer of popular feeling across Ruritania and Glottenburg, his problem however is that he is not in fact popular. Luckily for him our father belongs to a different generation and does not quite see what’s going on, though there have been people who tried to explain it: me and Aunt Osra for instance.
‘You’ve probably never heard of them, but for over half a century a lord of Olmusch was chancellor of Glottenburg, first the grandfather and then the grandson, and the younger one being a Tarlenheim had weight also in Strelsau. They were before everyone else in seeing the way things were playing out across the Rothenian lands, and the elder Olmusch did a huge amount to bring forward Rothenian culture. The younger of them had influence with our grandmother, Queen Leopoldine, and our father was brought up to a scheme of education he devised. So father speaks Rothenian at least. But he’s just not interested in the effect it’s having on political culture at home.’
‘What about the crown prince?’
‘Ach! Ferdy? You don’t know the man, but just guess. Strutting around parade grounds in Brandenburg is his idea of what kings should do. He failed to retain a single word of Rothenian in years of tutoring. He had to be taught a German translation of the royal blessing ...’
‘The pensk pozechnen?’ James interjected.
Henry was taken aback. ‘My dear, Carfax briefed you well! I am seriously impressed. Yes, the pensk pozechnen. He delivers it in German when required at public occasions, and to be fair to him, he at least does it without complaint. But he doesn’t see the significance. It’s just a thing one does, like genuflecting to the host or saying Gesundheit when someone sneezes. In fact Ferdy’s indifference to anything Rothenian might very well be John Casimir’s trump card in due course. Ferdinand can’t put himself at the head of a popular movement he cannot see, let alone understand. But our cousin is capable enough of exploiting it. All that stands in his way is our aunt, so now do you see why she had to be more or less expelled from Glottenburg?’
***
Despite the drizzle, Freddie wrapped himself in his cloak and paced the Hofgarten for a while after saying a cheerful farewell to Sebastian Wollherz. It was only when rain began to pool in the folds of his hat that he headed back to the embassy. It had been an enjoyable day, and he just wished it could go on longer. Bastian was fascinating, and Freddie at times just lost himself in contemplating the smiling and animated face in front of him, letting Bastian’s words flow past him. Then there was the fact that a face just like it had looked up into his eyes as it swallowed his cock.
Freddie finally came to the internal conclusion that it had to have been the sister not the brother who had serviced his penis on that mad night of Karneval. It was either that or Bastian was a remarkable actor, which he had himself said he was not. The main thing however that was absorbing Freddie was that he went rigid at the thought that it had been Bastian fellating him, and not his sister. He put aside the question as to why such a young man was evidently as fascinated by him as he was by Bastian. Maybe, he mused, an Englishman was as exotic in Munich as a Bavarian would have been in Norwich. But nonetheless, Freddie had been invited to join his new friend the next day for early morning exercise at Monsieur Dumesnil’s Academy of Fencing down the Tal beyond the Isartor.
Freddie was up in the pale dawn the next morning, for Sebastian wanted to take his exercise as soon as the galleries of the Academy opened. That Friday was, as Freddie knew, the day of Princess Osra Madeleine’s conference and Bastian was to be in attendance.
The scavengers were out in the Alt Markt, clearing refuse and horse droppings and raking the gravel. Sebastian appeared in civilian dress, and ushered him within the Academy. It was not empty, for it seemed to be the custom for younger men to take exercise there early in the day before they addressed their various occupations. A vigorous bout ensued, in which Freddie found he had the advantage in height and reach though not skill and aggression, and it was a long and fair fight. Eventually Bastian called a halt, removed his soaking shirt and wiped his face with it. His hair was loose and untied, like a boy’s. His torso was smooth and hairless, with small dark nipples on swelling pectoral muscles. He did not put the shirt back on.
‘I have to take a bath and Monsieur Dumesnil keeps a heated Turkish pool for his customers’ convenience, or rather for the convenience of the people who’d otherwise have to endure the stench of their exercise.’
So Freddie removed his own shirt and followed Bastian along a corridor and down to a tiled, dimly-lit room with a steaming pool at its centre. Bastian stripped and threw his clothes into a corner, and Freddie did the same, then Bastian waded down some steps and took a seat on an underwater ledge. The water was at first uncomfortably hot, but soon became relaxing.
‘I could do this every day,’ Freddie sighed as he took a place next to his friend and they relaxed quietly for a while.
Bastian eventually stood, took a loofah from the side of the pool and scrubbed away at his torso and arms for a while, and it was not Freddie’s imagination that their eyes kept catching. ‘Can you do my back?’ his new friend asked.
Freddie stood and obliged, and Bastian then returned the compliment. He soaped up his hands and began cleaning Freddie, starting with his back, but not stopping at his buttocks or the valley between them, where his fingers lingered delightfully.
Freddie’s breath caught in his throat, and when Bastian turned the consequences for both stood up proud, just below the waterline. The boy gave a low laugh and then looked seriously into Freddie’s eyes. Without a further word, Bastian took his erection and massaged it without shifting his gaze. His head spinning, Freddie took Bastian’s cock and began stroking it too. Bastian cooed and closed with him, whispering into Freddie’s ear, ‘Bessie said you’d do it. Now, up on the ledge and you can tell me if my technique is superior to my sister’s, then maybe we’ll have time for other games that men play.’
***
The two youths idled silently back towards the Alt Markt, and stopped at the Mariensäule. Bastian looked up at him. ‘Thank you, Freddie,’ he said, ‘we really must do this again.’
‘I should say,’ Freddie responded. ‘But answer me this. What you said before made me think it was not you but your sister whom I met on the night of Karneval. Is that in fact so?’
‘I think it was, though sometimes even I get confused.’
‘What was she doing?’
Bastian shrugged. ‘As I said to you yesterday, Bessie lives life on her own terms, which are not those usually allowed to women. The guise of a linkboy would very much suit her. The boy who offers himself on the streets would like the sort of congress you just submitted me to, and sex without the risk of pregnancy is the sort she prefers.’
‘When did she tell you what she did?’
‘Actually only yesterday, when she knew we were to meet this morning. What was she thinking that Shrove Tuesday? She is so wild and who knows what other things she gets up to, not that I’ll ever hear of them unless it amuses her. Somehow you piqued her interest that night and I suppose you could say she took advantage of you.’
‘Is that why you ... er ...’
‘I seduced you, Freddie? I suppose. No, to be honest I was lost when I first saw you. My sister and I share our taste in men, and your blond English looks are irresistible to both of us. The pretty round face of you Englishmen is so much more appealing than the sharp cheekbones of we Germans and Ruritanians. I wanted you as soon as I saw you peering out at me behind the column of the Jakobskirche. Yes, I saw you that morning. I recognised the look in your eyes too. All I needed to know was what my sister told me. You like your cock in another man’s mouth. After that I was ready to risk all.’
‘You’re so beautiful, Bastian.’
‘You think so? I suppose you may be right. My sister certainly is, and so I must be too. Now, I must go back home, and you must go to work. There will be a formal dinner there tonight for the commissioners after the day’s conference. But I shall meet you again tomorrow at the Academy if you wish.’
‘I certainly do. I can’t wait in fact.’
‘Good. After that, the house in the Anger will be mine again, and there are things we can do that I would find very exciting indeed. So Freddie, till tomorrow.’