History Keepers 1: The Storm Begins

by Damian Dibben

  ‘Now, why on earth would they be carrying this amount of money around?’ Topaz pondered.

  Charlie raised his eyebrows theatrically. ‘I have a feeling that this riddle, and all others, will be solved once we penetrate the walls of Castle Schwarzheim.’

  21 INTO THE LION’S DEN

  HALF AN HOUR later the Volskys’ carriage was rolling along the road towards Castle Schwarzheim’s imposing gatehouse. Charlie was driving, with Mr Drake perched on one of the trunks at his side. The former wore the black cloak and cap that he had found stuffed into a tiny trunk at the back of the coach, along with the driver’s other meagre possessions. He was wearing a blond beard that made him almost unrecognizable.

  In the luxurious, silk-lined interior of the carriage Jake and Topaz sat side by side, impeccably dressed as the Russian millionaires. Topaz looked exquisite in her corseted gown and golden headpiece, but it was Jake who had undergone the most startling transformation: in his fine suit and neat moustache and beard, he looked every inch the dashing young tycoon.

  ‘Charlie,’ Topaz called out of the window, ‘I hate to say this, but I think it’s time Mr Drake went undercover.’

  Charlie nodded reluctantly, opened the trunk and guided the parrot inside. ‘It won’t be for long,’ he assured him, giving him an extra-large handful of peanuts. ‘Quiet as you can, now.’ He felt awful shutting his pet in the dark – though for a handful of peanuts Mr Drake was happy to do anything his master asked of him.

  As the carriage pulled up in the shadow of the gatehouse’s granite towers, Jake noticed Topaz’s eyes flicker nervously. Her hand went to her throat as if to control her tremulous breathing.

  ‘All right?’ he asked softly.

  ‘It’s funny,’ Topaz sighed. ‘You would think the fear would lessen over time, but it seems to get worse.’

  One of the sentries strutted out of the lodge, held up his oversized hand and enquired, with a nod at them, as to the identity of the new arrivals.

  ‘Mikhail and Irina Volsky of Odessa,’ said Charlie in English – with a perfect Russian accent – and handed the guard their invitation to the summit.

  The sentry examined it without expression, then looked through the carriage window and scrutinized the occupants through narrowed eyes. Jake and Topaz gazed back at him haughtily. At last he returned the invitation to Charlie and signalled to his accomplice in the tower. The creaking iron portcullis ascended and the carriage entered the vast walled estate of Castle Schwarzheim.

  Jake looked out of the window. Rising up in front of him was a great mountain of rock, towering through ghostly swirls of mist to a sharp peak. At the summit, far in the distance and almost hidden in the gloom, stood Castle Schwarzheim, a dark grey silhouette.

  As the road rose around the base of the mountain, Topaz spied something through the trees. ‘Down there! Look.’

  Charlie stopped the carriage. Down below, where the Rhine snaked round to one side, lay a harbour set in a steep-sided inlet. Moored within it was a black galleon with shimmering red sails.

  ‘Our old friend the Lindwurm, if I’m not mistaken,’ said Charlie in an ominous voice. He took his telescope out of his pocket and peered through it. ‘Not a ship you forget in a hurry.’ He passed the eyepiece to Topaz, who studied the craft, pursing her lips.

  ‘What’s the Lindwurm?’ asked Jake.

  ‘Zeldt’s warship of choice,’ explained Charlie. ‘The legend goes that he stained her timbers with the blood of his enemies, which accounts for their luminous black hue. The Lindwurm takes its name from a creature of the deep, half snake, half dragon.’

  Topaz passed the telescope to Jake and he surveyed the vessel. She was a handsome craft, splendid and awesome in equal measure. Her three gigantic red sails had the lustrous sheen of velvet. Emblazoned in the centre of each, in a yet deeper shade of crimson, was Zeldt’s symbol of a snake and a shield.

  ‘It looks like they’re getting ready to leave,’ said Jake, pointing to the guards loading crates onto the deck.

  ‘Not too soon, I hope,’ said Charlie as he cracked his whip, urging the horses on towards the castle.

  The carriage zigzagged up and up. For stretches they would lose sight of the castle. Then, as they turned a corner, it would loom above them once again, each time a little closer and more distinct.

  The weather started to change. Below, it had been a warm, sunny day. But now, halfway to the mountain’s peak, the air cooled and thinned. Charlie started to shiver.

  Suddenly the horses stopped; one of them whinnied with fear, stamping its hooves and shaking its head.

  ‘What is it?’ Charlie asked the animal. He was perplexed: the road ahead was empty. The lid of the trunk next to him lifted slightly, and Mr Drake’s eyes darted keenly from side to side, also sensing danger.

  Jake leaned out of the window, glimpsing movement amongst the trees. He peered into the darkness of the forest; a chill wind rustled through the branches. Then he caught sight of a darting shadow.

  Charlie saw it at the same time; he gasped and dropped the reins.

  The figure flew through the trees, its footsteps silenced by the mossy ground; it wore a pointed black hat and a long black gown billowed out behind. Fifty yards ahead, it left the trees and came to a stop on the road, its back to them.

  Jake craned his neck out of the window to get a better look. He had seen people dressed as witches before, usually at Halloween, but everything about this figure had an eerie look of authenticity; the gown was torn and muddied, but the material was fine, with complicated patterns woven into its blackness.

  The figure remained motionless. The horses continued to snort and stamp their hooves anxiously. Charlie slowly unsheathed his sword while, inside the carriage, Topaz’s sharp dagger was already drawn.

  The black form slowly turned its head. The face – what could be seen of it – was oddly beautiful: through the pale layers of transluscent skin, a network of blue veins pulsed. For a second the eyes made contact with Charlie’s; then the figure flew off again. The occupants of the carriage watched as it darted through the trees as if pulled by an invisible thread. In the distance it met up with two similar dark shadows. All three looked round at the carriage one last time, then fled into the wood until they were out of sight.

  Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, and Charlie and Topaz re-sheathed their weapons.

  ‘Nothing to be frightened of – they’re basically glorified scarecrows,’ said Charlie, trying for nonchalance, although his heart was thumping.

  ‘Scarecrows?’ questioned Jake.

  ‘An old medieval custom. Rich landowners use them to scare off intruders. They’re just actors.’

  ‘Still, I don’t fancy seeing the full performance,’ said Jake.

  As the track led them closer to the peak, it steepened dramatically and the temperature dropped further still. The horses were again apprehensive, and Charlie had to encourage them in a bright, breezy voice that failed to mask his growing sense of unease. Out of the window Jake could see the edge of the precipice just below. Some rocks disappeared into the cloudy void.

  As they came round the final bend, Castle Schwarzheim loomed into sight in all its terrifying glory. It looked as solid as the mountain itself; an immense puzzle of towers, turrets and stone staircases soaring up into the cloud. Jake noticed a succession of gargoyles jutting out from the closest tower. There were beasts of every kind: dragons, two-headed gorgons and fierce monkeys, mouths wide, as if silently screaming. The whole scene reminded Jake of another favourite painting of his – a tableau of high Victorian gothic: riders approaching a windswept castle, walls luminous in the twilight.

  The horses struggled up the last stretch, until finally the carriage rolled through an archway into a large courtyard.

  Jake gazed with keen interest at the sights that greeted him. A few other vehicles had recently arrived, the bright, rich liveries contrasting with the sombre granite of their surroundings. Their finely dressed occupants were being
helped down by castle servants, all of whom wore the familiar red cloaks of Zeldt’s army. The new arrivals were offered cups of hot spiced wine served on pewter trays. They took them and drank, paying no heed to those who served them.

  ‘I find it strange,’ Topaz observed, ‘that whole families have been invited.’ She was referring to a group of people descending from another carriage. A youngish couple were accompanied not only by their two sulky-looking daughters, but also an ancient lady, evidently the girls’ grandmother. The grand old lady studied her surroundings as the luggage was unloaded and taken off into the castle.

  During the ascent, Charlie had slowly become accustomed to the cold, but Jake and Topaz did not notice the dramatic change in the weather until they set foot on the cobbles. It was positively wintry: the occasional flake of snow drifted by.

  ‘Good afternoon, welcome to Castle Schwarzheim,’ a voice announced in English. It belonged to a red-cloaked attendant – a blue-eyed Teutonic beauty with a smile as tight as the blonde braids knotted across her head. Jake found himself involuntarily checking his fake beard and moustache as she continued, ‘I trust your journey was satisfactory. Mikhail and Irina Volsky of Odessa, if I’m not mistaken?’

  ‘How did you know?’ answered Topaz, also in English but with a perfect Russian accent.

  ‘By the coat of arms on your carriage, of course,’ the girl replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. ‘You are in the east tower, in the Suite Charlemagne. Dinner is at seven in the banqueting hall. Enjoy your stay.’

  Another carriage rolled into the courtyard, and the German goddess smiled insincerely and took her leave. Jake and Topaz watched her retreat.

  ‘Friendly.’ Jake was dazzled by her cool confidence.

  ‘As a box of snakes,’ commented Topaz.

  ‘Don’t look now,’ muttered Charlie as he started to unload the luggage from the roof, ‘but there’s another box of snakes. Eleven o’clock.’

  Jake and Topaz turned nonchalantly and glimpsed a figure on the first-floor balcony. It was Mina Schlitz, coolly surveying the scene below her.

  ‘She doesn’t frighten me,’ Topaz murmured. ‘It’s all an act.’

  She and Jake were shown across the courtyard. Charlie followed behind, doing his best to balance the large collection of cases. He was conscious of poor Mr Drake rattling around in one of the trunks – so much so that he tripped and dropped everything. Two servants came to his rescue.

  Jake couldn’t resist teasing: ‘He’s new. We’re just breaking him in. It’s so difficult to find the staff these days.’

  Charlie shook his head and muttered under his breath, ‘I offered to play this part – I think I deserve a little respect at least.’

  As they climbed the steps to the front entrance of the castle, Topaz suddenly stopped. ‘Wait!’ She clutched Jake’s arm tightly. He was alarmed to see that she was as white as a sheet. Suddenly her eyes rolled up in her head and she collapsed into his arms.

  ‘Topaz!’ Jake cried as her eyelids flickered. From all over the courtyard, people looked in their direction. Concerned servants soon surrounded them.

  ‘You mean Irina,’ Charlie muttered under his breath, aware that Mina Schlitz was now squinting down from the balcony.

  Topaz came to her senses and pulled herself to her feet.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Jake asked.

  ‘Of course – it’s the altitude, that’s all,’ she said breezily. ‘Shall we …?’ She continued up the steps into the castle as if nothing had happened.

  Jake was confused and unnerved by the incident, but quickly resumed his role of aloof young tycoon.

  They found themselves in a baronial entrance hall. Groups of guests were being led towards their suites. It felt like a busy hotel lobby in a smart ski resort – except, of course, that everyone was dressed in the fashions of the early 1500s, and downhill skiing had not yet been invented. There were great fires crackling on every side, and macabre hunting trophies – antlers and stuffed heads of deer and bear – hung from every inch of wall.

  ‘That’s really charming,’ Charlie muttered. ‘The sight of dead animals really does endear our host to me …’

  The hunting theme continued: two ‘sofas’ were fashioned out of more antlers; on a series of pedestals, stuffed eagles, falcons and ospreys were frozen in time; and bearskin rugs were spread at intervals over the stone floors.

  Jake, Topaz and their ‘manservant,’ Charlie, were escorted by a red-cloaked servant up the grand central staircase, along a succession of corridors and more stairs, and finally through a set of double doors into the Suite Charlemagne.

  The young agents did their best to conceal their amazement. It was an extraordinary room, occupying the entire top floor of one the round towers. There were huge sofas, and rich tapestries hung from the walls.

  ‘There is hot chocolate for your pleasure …’ The servant pointed – without the slightest hint of pleasure – to a coaching table set out with cups and a steaming pewter jug. ‘And a bath has been filled for you. Dinner will be at seven.’ Of course, this information was for the benefit of Jake and Topaz; Charlie waited by the door, his head bowed.

  The man nodded, walked backwards out of the room and closed the door behind him.

  Charlie immediately dropped the luggage and released Mr Drake from his silk-lined prison. The parrot squawked, flapped his wings excitedly and did an elegant circuit of the room to stretch them.

  ‘Was it really the altitude?’ Jake asked Topaz, relieved to be able to drop the pretence.

  For a moment she did not reply. ‘Not really,’ she said quietly. ‘It’s been a while since I was actually inside one of Zeldt’s castles. Memories got the better of me … But I’m perfectly calm now.’

  ‘Memories …?’ Jake asked.

  ‘Why don’t we explore the suite?’ she suggested, ignoring the question, and disappeared into the next room. Jake followed her, understanding that the subject was now closed.

  The bedroom was quite as large as the living room. The huge four-poster bed was draped with extravagant swags of velvet. The bathroom was lined with terracotta-coloured marble. A giant steaming bath in the centre gave off magical odours of roses and bergamot.

  An archway led onto a terrace. As Jake and Topaz emerged outside, they were filled with awe. It was freezing cold and the wind whistled, but they did not notice.

  ‘That is a view.’ Jake said in awe. He could see for an eternity: the Rhine wound its way far into the distance between the forested hills. Nestling amongst them were little towns and villages, and more castles sprouted from mountaintops near and far. This would be an awe-inspiring view at any time in history, but Jake knew that now, in 1506 – way before the modern age of cars and aeroplanes and new towns – it was at its most remarkable. He turned to look at Topaz: she too was lost in wonder.

  ‘C’est incroyable, non? History is amazing,’ she said as if reading Jake’s own thoughts. ‘It’s like the stars: the more you look, the more you see.’

  After they had taken it in turns to soak in the marble bath (which was way ahead of its time and fitted with working taps in the form of golden dolphins), they selected their evening outfits. They were somewhat lost without Nathan’s sartorial eye to guide them, but Jake chose a smart Maltese doublet in sapphire velvet and accessorized it (‘one of Nathan’s favorite words’, Topaz pointed out) with a great clunky gold chain. Topaz selected a long cream gown of brocade and silk organza. Charlie remained in his plain gown and breeches.

  At seven sharp, a servant came to collect them. He escorted them silently back down the maze of staircases and landings, until they arrived at an enormous set of double doors.

  ‘You are not permitted,’ the servant told Charlie curtly. ‘You wait with the other staff,’ he said, indicating the narrow staircase down to a servants anteroom where various sombre-faced valets had taken up residence to await a summons from their masters.

  ‘I usually accompany them everywhere,’ Ch
arlie floundered, letting his accent drop slightly in his anxiety.

  The man was unmoved. ‘You are not permitted,’ he repeated, this time holding up a hand to make his point.

  Charlie realized he had no choice but to comply. He whispered into Jake’s ear, ‘I want a full report on dinner. I need to know everything that’s on the menu. Everything! Understand?’

  Jake nodded and Charlie reluctantly turned and headed down towards the anteroom. He was met by the unfriendly gaze of forty surly-looking servants. His attempt at a broad smile and an affable wink did absolutely nothing to endear him to them.

  Jake and Topaz, the Volskys of Odessa, were led towards the double doors, which opened as if by magic. They stepped into the room.

  The sight that greeted them made their hearts pound. For a moment they both found it difficult to breathe, but they kept their composure. The double doors closed behind them.

  22 THE VEILED EMPIRE

  JUST AS CHARLIE had been met by the staring eyes of many strangers, so had Jake and Topaz, but these eyes were far, far more unsettling.

  The banqueting hall of Castle Schwarzheim was a large, dimly lit circular room, around which a succession of fires blasted out a fierce heat.

  In the centre was a vast table. Hewn from white marble so translucent it resembled crystal, it seemed to hover, phantom-like, above the stone floor. Around it, fifty people, their backs in shadow, were already seated. They were, without doubt, the most chillingly magnificent group of individuals that Jake had ever set eyes on.

  These were medieval millionaires: Charlie and Topaz had learned from Mina’s list that they were not neccessarily famous, nor aristocratic, but their self-made fortunes gave them huge power. Amongst them, Jake knew, were traders of grain and livestock from eastern Europe, mining barons from the Baltic, timber and wax dealers from Scandinavia. There was a salt merchant from Asia Minor, a silver tycoon from Bavaria, and an ivory dealer from Africa. There were bankers from Germany and Italy, and insurance brokers from Amsterdam and Copenhagen.