the Ring (1980)

by Steel, Danielle

  Ariana still didn't understand what was happening, and she watched the city around them curiously as they drove off. It took her almost twenty minutes to figure out that they were going in the direction of Wannsee. They had almost reached Manfred's house. But by then she had already figured out what was happening. So this was what he had saved her for, that night in her cell. She wondered if he also used a whip. Perhaps that was how he had got the hairline scar that traveled a short distance along his jaw.

  A few moments later they pulled up outside a small house. It looked respectable but not sumptuous in any way, and inside it was dark. Manfred signaled for her to get out of the car, and he grabbed the suitcase from the backseat as she walked toward the front door with her spine ramrod straight and her eyes avoiding his. How charmingly he had arranged things. Apparently she was to be his. For good, she found herself wondering, or just the night?

  Without further ceremony he unlocked the front door, waved her in, and stepped inside. He shut the door firmly behind them, flipped on some lights, and looked around. His cleaning woman had been there that morning, and everything looked tidy and clean. There was an unceremonious but friendly living room, with lots of books and plants, and a stack of freshly cut wood next to the fireplace where each Bight he made a fire. There were photographs, mostly of his children, and a journal of some kind lying closed on his desk. There were big, friendly, country windows that opened out onto a garden filled with flowers, a view shared by the kitchen, a small den, and a tiny, cozy dining room, all of which occupied the main floor of the house. There was a narrow wooden stairway, carpeted with a well-worn but once handsome rug, and all Ariana could see from below was a low-ceilinged upstairs hall.

  As though he expected her to understand his intentions, Manfred stalked silently from room to room, throwing open doors and then moving on to the next room, until at last he stood at the foot of the stairs. He looked at her hesitantly for a moment and stared into her deep, angry blue eyes. She still wore her coat and the gloves she'd worn to gather leaves outside die barracks; her hair was falling from its tightly woven golden knot. Her suitcase stood behind them, forgotten near Manfred's front door.

  I'll show you around upstairs. He said it quietly as he waved her up before him. He didn't quite trust her behind him yet. She was too afraid, too angry, and he knew enough to protect himself, even from a child like this.

  Upstairs, there wasn't a great deal to show her. A single bathroom and two ominous-looking doors. Ariana stared at the doors with terror, her huge blue eyes wandering slowly to Manfred's hands and then his face. Come, I'll show you. The words were gentle, but it was useless, he could see from her face that she was so frightened, she could barely hear. What could he do to reassure her? How could he explain what he had done? But he knew that in time she would come to understand.

  He threw open the door to his bedroom, a stark and simple room done in browns and blues. Nothing in the house was very fancy, but it was all comfortable and it had been precisely what he wanted when he decided to find his own quarters in Berlin. It was a place where he could escape everything, where he could sit peacefully at night, watch the fire, smoke his pipe, and read. His favorite pipe lay on a table in his bedroom, next to the fireplace where he sat in a well-worn, always welcoming chair. But instead of seeing the harmless surroundings, Ariana stood there, eyes wide, arms down, her feet rooted to the ground.

  This is my bedroom.

  The eyes stared at him in helpless horror, and she nodded. Yes.

  And then, touching her arm gently, he walked past her and swung open a door she had assumed would be a closet. But he stepped inside and disappeared. Come this way, please. Gingerly and trembling, she followed him, only to discover that it was yet another small room. There were a bed, a chair, a table, a desk so small, it was almost better suited to a child, but there were pretty little curtains and a bedspread covered with roses that matched the wallpaper in the small room. There was something reassuring about it as Ariana stepped inside. And this is your room, fr+nulein. He looked at her warmly, but still he saw that she didn't understand. Her eyes went to his again, with the same pain, same sorrow, and he smiled at her, and let out a long sigh.

  Fr+nulein von Gotthard, why don't you sit down, you look exhausted. He waved her gently to the bed, which she stared at for a moment, and finally rigidly sat down. I'd like to explain something to you. I don't think you understand. He looked suddenly very different as he spoke to her, not like the stern officer who had trotted her up and down those endless halls and stairs, but like the kind of man who came home at night, who ate dinner, sat by the fire, and fell asleep over his paper because he was so tired. He looked like a real person, but still Ariana shrank from him as she watched him from the bed. I brought you here tonight because I believed that you were in danger. He sat back slowly in his chair and prayed that she'd relax. It was impossible to talk to her when she sat there like that, staring at him. You're a very pretty woman, Fr+nulein von Gotthard, or I should say that you're a very pretty girl. How old are you? Eighteen? Seventeen? Twenty?

  Nineteen. It was more of a gasp than a word.

  I wasn't so far off, then, but there are those who wouldn't care. His face grew serious for a moment. Like our friend Hildebrand. He wouldn't give a damn if you were twelve. And there are others., ? If you were a little older, if you had been out in the world for a bit before all this misfortune befell you, you would have some idea how to take care of yourself. He frowned at her and she stared at him. He sounded more like her father than a man who was going to take her to his bed and rape her, And in his chair he was thinking of her raking the dead leaves outside the barracks; she had looked about fourteen years old. Do you understand, fr+nulein?

  No, sir. She looked infinitely pale and wide-eyed. Gone was the young woman who had tried to brazen it out with Von Rheinhardt in the beginning. This was no woman, it was a child.

  Well, it came to my attention this evening that there was a possibility you might be urged to ' er ' join the general' Fresh terror flew into her eyes but he held up a hand. I felt that that would hardly be a fortuitous beginning to your life on your own. So, fr+nulein, he looked around the room that would be hers I brought you here.

  Will they make me go to him tomorrow? She stared at him in desperate anxiety as he tried to keep his eyes from noticing the flawless gold of her hair.

  No, that's quite unlikely. The general doesn't ever exert himself over anything. If you had still been there at the barracks, he would have taken you with him to Grunewald, but if you're already gone, then you have nothing to fear. And then he thought of something. Do you mind that? Would it have been worthwhile putting up with him in order to be back in your own house?

  But she shook her head sadly. I couldn't have borne to see it like that, with strangers in it, and she choked on the words "I would have died rather than be with him. Manfred nodded, and he saw her looking at him appraisingly, as though to see what she'd gotten herself instead, and he couldn't repress a burst of laughter. He knew exactly why she was looking him over. And at least she had understood that he wasn't going to tear her clothes off halfway through the bedroom door.

  How does the arrangement suit you, fr+nulein? He eyed her and she sighed softly.

  I suppose it will do. What did he expect? Her thanks for making her his mistress instead of the general's?

  I'm sorry these things have to happen. It has been an ugly war ' for all of us. There was a distant, pensive look on his face. Come. I'll show you the kitchen.

  In answer to his question about her cooking, she smiled. I've never really cooked before. There was no need. There had always been servants to do the cooking.

  Never mind. I'll teach you. I won't make you rake leaves or scrub toilets I have a cleaning woman who comes in to do all that but it would certainly be pleasant if as part of our exchange you did the cooking. Do you suppose you could do that?' He looked so serious and suddenly she felt so tired. She was his concubine now like a bo
ught-and-paid-for slave.

  She sighed and looked at him. I suppose so. And what about the laundry?

  All you'll have to worry about is your own. That's it really, just the cooking. It was a small price to pay for her safety. The cooking, and the fact that she was to become his mistress. That much she understood.

  She stood quietly by as he taught her how to make eggs, sliced bread, and showed her how to cook carrots and potatoes, and then he left her to wash the dishes in the sink. She heard him put the wood on and start the fire, and then, she saw him writing peacefully at his desk, Now and then he would look at photographs of one of the children, and then he'd bow his head again and write some more.

  Would you like some tea, sir? She felt oddly Mice one of the maids in her own house, but remembering that she had inhabited, the nightmarish cell in the Reichstag only that morning, she was grateful suddenly to be in the lieutenant's house at all, Sorry.

  What, Ariana? And then he blushed faintly. It was the first time he had called her by her first name. But he had been absentminded. For a moment she hadn't even been sure if he had said Ariana or Marianna. It was hard to tell. Sorry.

  It's all right. I asked you if you would like tea.

  Thank you. He would have preferred coffee, but by now it was almost impossible to get. Would you like some? She hadn't dared to pour herself a cup of the preeious substance, but at his bidding she ran to the kitchen for a cup and poured herself some tea. For an instant she just sat there enjoying the exotic fragrance. For a month now she had dreamed of just such long-forgotten luxuries as tea.

  Thank you. For a long moment he wondered about the sound of her laughter. Would he ever hear it? Twice that evening he had won her bedazzling smile He felt his heart stir as he watched her, She was so desperately serious, unhappy, her eyes and her face were so marked by her recent trauma. She was looking around the room then, her eyes stopping at the photographs of the children. Your children, Lieutenant? She looked at him curiously, but he didn't smile. It was an odd little tea party they were sharing, the two of them with their broken lives. He only nodded in answer to her question and suggested she pour herself another cup of tea, as he lit his pipe and stretched his long legs toward the fire.

  They sat there together quietly, until almost eleven o'clock, saying little, simply being there, Ariana growing slowly accustomed to her surroundings, and the lieutenant enjoying having another living, breathing human being in his home. His eyes would stray toward her now and then, and he would watch her, sitting there, dreamily staring into the fire, as though she had drifted back to a world of long ago. At eleven o'clock Manfred stood up and looked down at her, then he began to turn out the lights.

  I have to get up early tomorrow morning. As though on cue, she rose, too. But there was fresh fear in her eyes now. What would happen next? This was the moment she had dreaded all night.

  He waited for her to walk sedately from the room, and then followed her. They reached his door first and stood there. He hesitated for a long moment and then with a small smile he held out a hand. She watched him in amazement, and she had to remind herself to put her hand in his. This was so totally not what she had expected that her jaw almost dropped as he shook her hand. I hope that one day, fr+nulein, we shall be friends. You are not a prisoner here, you know. This just seemed the wisest arrangement ' for your sake. I hope you understand. Her eyes fit up slowly then and she smiled at him.

  You mean '

  Yes, I mean. His eyes were gentle and she could see that he was a kind man. Did you really think that I would stand in for the general? Don't you think that would have been a little bit unfair? I told you, you are not my prisoner. In fact he bowed very properly and clicked his heels I shall regard you as my guest. But Ariana only stared at him, stunned. Good night, fr+nulein. The door closed softly behind him, and in utter amazement, she walked soundlessly down the hall.

  Chapter 19

  Well, where the hell is she? Von Rheinhardt stared at Hildebrand in annoyance. Von Tripp said he took her over there yesterday. Did you ask the matron?

  No, she was away from her desk.

  Then go back. I have better things to worry about than this nonsense, for God's sake.

  Hildebrand went back to see the matron and reported to the captain once again an hour later while Von Tripp kept busy with a number of projects he had not completed the day before.

  What did the matron say? The captain glowered at Hildebrand from across his desk. Everything had been going wrong for him all day. And he didn't give a damn about the general and that damn Von Gotthard girl. They'd finished with her, and what happened to her now was of no interest whatsoever to him. If General Ritter had the hots for her, that was his own problem. He should have sent his own damn aide running around to look for her.

  She's gone.

  What the hell do you mean, she's gone.' And then he looked suddenly furious. Has she run away?

  No, nothing like that, Captain. Someone took her.

  The matron said it was an officer, but she wasn't sure who.

  Did you check the logbook? Von Rheinhardt stared at him.

  No. Should I go back?

  Never mind. If she's gone, she's gone. He'll find half a dozen others he wants by next week. And that little joyride might not have been worth the price of admission. There is always the chance, though admittedly remote, that her father will turn up one day. And there would be hell to pay if Ritter had made her one of his harem. Von Rheinhardt rolled his eyes and Hildebrand laughed.

  You really think her old man is still alive? He looked at his captain with interest.

  No, I don't. The senior officer shrugged then and admonished Hildebrand to get back to work. And it wasn't until late in the afternoon that the captain himself wandered over to the barracks to have a little chat with the matron. A few moments later she quietly produced the logbook, and Von Rheinhardt got the information that he had come for. He read the name on the logbook with interest and mused to himself all the way back across the street. Perhaps Von Tripp was returning to the land of the living after all. It had been his suspicion that Von Tripp would never recover from the loss of his wife and children, nor from the wound he had suffered just the Christmas before. After he was wounded, Manfred seemed to give up life. He was like a shell of a man not ever participating in the freer social scene. But perhaps now ' it was interesting' . He had suspected as much, which was why he had gone across the street to check the log. There was very little that escaped Dietrich von Rheinhardt's attention.

  Von Tripp?

  Yes, sir? Manfred looked up with surprise. He hadn't seen the captain come in. What's more, he hadn't seen him go out half an hour before. He had been busy across the hall, looking for some files that someone had mislaid.

  I'd like to see you in my office, please. Manfred followed him with an uneasy feeling. The senior officer wasted no time. Manfred, I happened to take a look at that logbook across the street. But they both knew that the captain never happened to do anything.

  Oh?

  Yes, Oh. You have her? It was impossible to read his face, but slowly Manfred nodded.

  Yes, I do.

  May I ask why?

  I wanted her, sir. It was the kind of blunt answer Von Rheinhardt would easily understand.

  I can of course understand that, but were you aware that General Ritter wanted her, too?

  No, sir. Manfred felt his skin crawl. No, sir, I didn't know. Although we did meet him for a moment in the hall at the house in Grunewald yesterday. However, he gave no indication '

  All right, all right, never mind. The two men eyed each other for a long time. I could make you give her up to Ritter, you know.

  I hope you won't do that, sir. It was the understatement of a lifetime, and for a long moment neither man spoke.

  I won't, Von Tripp. And then after another moment, It's good to see you alive again. He grinned broadly. It's nice to see you give a damn. I've been telling you for three years that was all you needed.<
br />
  Yes, sir. Manfred grinned convincingly, wanting to slap his commanding officer across the face. Thank you, sir.

  Not at all. And then he chuckled to himself. Serves Ritter right. He's the oldest man here and he always gets the youngest girls. Don't worry, I've got another one I'll send him. She should keep him happy for weeks. He laughed raucously to himself and waved Manfred from the room.

  So ' he had won her, and by the captain's grace in the end. He felt a long sigh escape him as he looked around the office and realized that it was time to go home.

  Lieutenant? Her face peered into the hallway, her pretty golden hair looped gracefully on top of her head and her big blue eyes dancing out nervously to see that it was he.

  Good afternoon, Ariana. , He seemed unbearably formal as he gazed into the blue eyes while she stood before him with an anxious look on her face.

  Did ' was ' She stumbled over the words with a look of terror, and instantly Manfred understood.

  It's all right. Everything's settled.

  Were they very angry? The huge blue eyes looked larger than ever as gently he shook his head. Every moment of the terror of the past month was etched in her eyes as she stood there. As brave as she had so often seemed to him, now she seemed like a tiny, defenseless child.

  I told you, it's all right. You'll be safe here now. She wanted to ask him for how long, but she didn't dare. Instead she only nodded.

  Thank you. And then, Would you like a cup of tea?

  Yes. He paused for a moment. If you'll have one, too. She nodded silently and disappeared into the kitchen. She was back a few moments later with a tray and two steaming cups of the precious brew. For her, it was one of the greatest luxuries in his household, after her month in the cell. Being able to be clean again, and to drink tea again. She had actually dared to drink a cup by herself that afternoon as she wandered aimlessly around his living room, glancing at the books and thinking of her father and Gerhard once again. She could barely keep her mind from them. And the ache of worry and sorrow still showed in her eyes. Manfred looked at her gently as he set down his cup. There was so little he could say to her. He knew only too well what it was to cope with the burden of loss. He sighed quietly and picked up one of his pipes as they sat down. What did you do today, fr+nulein?