The Ring

by Steel, Danielle

  Walmar looked proudly at his daughter, sitting like a fairy princess at his side in the Rolls. Excited?

  She nodded happily. Very. She was enchanted by the prospect of her first ball.

  And it was even better than she had expected. The stairs leading into the Opera House had been carpeted in red, the main hall with it wondrous ceiling was ablaze with light. And everywhere around them were women in evening gowns and diamonds, while the men all wore uniforms and decorations or white tie and tails. For Walmar the only damper on the evening was the large red flag that hung before them with the black and white emblem of the Reich.

  The music whispered at them softly, coming from the main hall, and around them swirled and eddied countless bodies bedecked, bemused, bejeweled. Ariana's eyes looked like two huge aquamarines in the delicate ivory face, her mouth a delicately carved ruby.

  She shared the first dance with her father, and afterward he was quick to move her into the safe confines of a group of his friends. There were several familiar bankers clustered at a table near the floor where couples waltzed.

  She had been chatting happily with them for some twenty minutes when Walmar became aware of a tall young man standing near them. He was watching Ariana with a look of interest and conversing quietly with a friend. Walmar turned his gaze away from the soldier and invited his daughter to dance with him again. It wasn't quite fair to do that, but he felt he had to postpone the inevitable for as long as he could. He had known when he had brought her that she would dance with other men. Yet the uniforms ' the uniforms ' it was unavoidable ' he could only pray that they would all think her far too young to have any great appeal.

  But as Walmar and Ariana slowly circled the floor together, he knew that she would catch the eye of any man. She looked young and fresh and lovely, but more than that, there was a lure to Ariana, a quiet power that pulled at anyone who looked into those deep blue eyes. It was as though she had the answers to a secret. He had seen the reaction in his own friends. It was a quality that hypnotized most men. It was the quiet face, the gentle eyes, and then the sudden smile, like summer sunshine on a lake. There was a quality to Ariana that drew one, a magic and a spirit of which one wanted to know more, despite her youth. She was far smaller than her brother and still more delicately boned. The top of her head barely reached her father's shoulder, and her feet seemed to fly as they waltzed.

  It was when he returned her to their table that the young officer finally approached. Silently, Walmar tightened. Why couldn't it have been one of the others? Someone not in a uniform a man and not a Reich. That's all they were to him, those uniforms, they weren't people, they were simply one band of gluttonous, self-indulgent evildoers, and in unison, with what they stood for and they threatened, they had killed his wife.

  Herr von Gotthard? Walmar gave a curt nod and the young man's right arm immediately shot out in the familiar signal. Heil Hitler. Walmar nodded again, this time with a frozen smile. I believe this is your daughter?

  Walmar wanted to slap him but, glancing at Ariana and then back at the intruder, he gave a curt answer instead. Yes. She's a bit too young to be here tonight, but I gave my consent as long as she remains with me. Ariana looked shocked at his pronouncement, but she did not protest. And the young man nodded understandingly and then gazed at the fairy princess with a dazzling smile. He had a long row of perfect snowy white teeth, enhanced still further by the curve of his lips and the beauty of his smile. The blue of his eyes was not unlike the color of Ariana's, but where her hair was palest blond, his was raven dark. He was tall and graceful with broad shoulders, small hips, and long legs accentuated by his uniform and gleaming boots.

  This time the young offices bowed to Ariana's father, in the fashion of a time before right arms had shot into the air; he clicked his heels and then stood erect again. Werner von Klaub, Herr von Gotthard. The gleaming smile shot toward Ariana again. And I can see that Miss Gotthard is indeed a very young lady, but I would be honored if you would entrust her to me for just one dance. Walmar hesitated. He knew the boy's family, he realized now, and to refuse would be a slight, both to his name and to the uniform he wore. And Ariana looked so hopeful and so pretty. How could he refuse? He couldn't fight the uniforms when that was what had taken over their whole world.

  I suppose I can't object to that, can I? He glanced gently down at his daughter, his voice filled with tenderness and regret.

  May I, Papa? The eyes so large, so hopeful, and so blue and bright.

  You may.

  Von Klaub bowed again, but this time to Ariana, and then led her away. Slowly they danced, like Prince Charming and Cinderella, as though they had been perfectly made for each other's arms. It was a pleasure to watch them, the man at Walmar's elbow said. Perhaps it was, but not for Walmar. He realized as he did so that a new threat had just come into his life. And more importantly, into Ariana's. As she grew older, she grew more lovely, and he could not keep her eternally a prisoner in his house. Eventually he would lose her, and perhaps to one of them. How strange, he thought to himself as he watched them. In another life, another era, Von Klaub would have been welcome in his home and in his daughter's life, but now ' that uniform had changed everything for Walmar. The uniform and what it stood for. It was more than he could bear.

  When the dance ended, Ariana glanced at her father, an open question in her eyes, and he was about to shake his head, denying his permission, but again he found he could not do that to her. So again he nodded. And after that, once more. And then, wisely, the young German officer led her back to her father, bowed again, and bid Ariana good night. But something in the way he smiled at her told her father that they had not yet seen the last of Werner von Klaub.

  How old is he, Ariana? Did he say?

  Twenty-four. She looked directly at her father with a small smile. He's very nice, you know. Did you like him?

  The question is, did you?

  She shrugged noncommittally and for the first time all evening her father laughed. So it begins, does it? My darling, you are going to break a thousand hearts. , He only hoped that among them, she would not break his. He had kept her so carefully from that poison that it would kill him now if she countered his beliefs.

  But she showed no sign of betraying him, or his principles, as the next few years wore on. Werner von Klaub had indeed come to visit them, but only once or twice. He had found her as ravishing as he had that first evening, yet he also found her very young and more than a little shy. She wasn't nearly as amusing as the women who had fallen prey to his uniform in the past three years. Ariana wasn't ready, and Werner von Klaub wasn't interested enough to wait.

  Her father was relieved when the visits ended and she didn't seem particularly saddened by the loss. She was happy with her life at home with her father and her brother, and she had lots of friends her own age at school. Walmar's determined battle to protect her had left her, in some ways, young for her years. Yet countered by that innocence was the wisdom she had gained from loss and pain. The loss of her mother, however remote Kassandra may have been, however well veiled the realities of that loss, had marked Ariana, and the absence of a mother she could turn to had left a sadness lurking somewhere in the tiny beauty's eyes. But it was a private kind of sorrow, a window to something amiss within it was not due to any exposure to the price of war. Despite the considerable increase in the bombings of Berlin since 1943 and the amount of time she spent in their cellar with Gerhard, her father, and the servants during the air raids, Ariana had no real contact with the pain of war until she was eighteen, in the spring of 1944.

  All that spring the Allies had increased their efforts, and Hitler had recently issued new decrees confirming his commitment to total war.

  Ariana had come home from school to find her father closeted in the main salon with a friend, according to Berthold, who was now quite elderly and also very deaf.

  Did he say who? Ariana smiled at him. Berthold was one of her earliest memories. He had always been there.
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br />   Yes, miss. He smiled benignly, the stonelike face cracking into warm creases just for her. He nodded as though he had understood her, but she knew immediately that he had not.

  Familiar with his foibles, she spoke louder, unlike her brother, who often teased him openly about being deaf. But from Master Gerhard, Berthold would take anything. Gerhard was his pet. I said, did my father say who was visiting?

  Ah ' no, miss. He did not Frau Klemmer let them in. I was downstairs for a moment assisting Master Gerhard with his chemistry equipment.

  Oh, God, not that.

  Yes?

  Never mind, Berthold, thank you. Easily, Ariana swung through the hallway. The house and its vast crew of servants had also been a constant in her life. She couldn't imagine living elsewhere.

  She passed Frau Klemmer in the upper hallway on the way into her room. She and Frau Klemmer had been discussing a secret that morning, about reopening her mother's room. It had been nine years now, and Ariana was about to turn eighteen. It annoyed her to share the upper floor with Gerhard, who was noisy and constantly blowing up his chemistry concoctions, trying to make small bombs. And she and her father had already decided that she would put off going to university until after the war. So when she finished school in two months, she would be busier around the house. There was volunteer work that she had planned for herself. She already worked in a hospital two days a week. But somehow it seemed to her more suitable that after she graduated from gymnasium, she should at the same time advance her status in the house. The prospect of occupying her mother's quarters pleased her greatly ' if only she could get her father to agree.

  Have you asked him yet? Frau Klemmer asked it in a conspiratorial whisper and Ariana shook her head.

  Not yet. Tonight If I can get rid of Gerhard after dinner. She sighed and rolled her eyes. He's such a pest He had just turned fifteen.

  I think if you give your father time to think it over, he'll probably agree. He'll like having you that much nearer. Climbing all those stairs up to the third floor to see you wears him out It was a sensible reason, but Ariana wasn't sure that it was the one that would win him over. At sixty-eight, her father did not enjoy being reminded of his age.

  I'll think of something. I wanted to talk to him now, but there's someone with him. Do you know who it is? Berthold said you let someone in.

  I did. She looked briefly puzzled. It is Herr Thomas. And he doesn't look well at all. But who did look well these days? Even Ariana's father looked exhausted now when he came home from the bank. The Reich was putting more and more pressure on all of the country's bankers to come up with funds they didn't have.

  As Frau Klemmer left, Ariana mused for a moment about whether or not to go back down and join her father. She had wanted to slip into her mother's rooms again, to admire the handsome bedroom and to see if the boudoir was large enough to accommodate her desk. But she could do that later. She would prefer to visit for a moment with her father's friend.

  Herr Thomas was some thirty years younger than her father, but despite the gap of years between them, her father had a great fondness for the soft-spoken man. He had spent four years working for her father and had then decided to go into law. During law school he had married a fellow student, and they had had three children in four years. The youngest child was three now, but Herr Thomas hadn't seen him since four months after his birth. His wife was Jewish, and she and the children had been taken from him. For the first two years of the war, Max had been able to stave off the Nazis. But in the end there was no putting off the inevitable. Sarah and the children had to go. In 1941, three years before, they were taken away. The shock of losing them had almost destroyed him, and now when he visited Ariana's father, he looked fifteen years older than his thirty-seven years. He had fought desperately to find them, and in the past year Ariana knew he had all but given up hope.

  Gently she rapped on the double doors, but all she heard was the soft hum of conversation within. She was about to turn away and leave them when at last she heard her father call out.

  She opened the door slowly and peeked inside with her soft smile. Papa? May I come in? But what she saw startled her and she didn't know whether to close the door and go, or stay, Maximilian Thomas was sitting with his back to her, his shoulders shaking gently, his face dropped into his hands. Ariana stared at her father, expecting to be sent away again, but to her surprise, he motioned her to stay. He was at a loss now. There was so little to be said. Perhaps his daughter could offer Max some comfort beyond what he had been able to give. It was Walmar's first act of recognition that Ariana was no longer a child. Had it been Gerhard in the doorway, he would have sent him back upstairs again with an urgent wave of his hand. But Ariana was not just a girl now, she also had the gentleness of woman. He motioned her toward him, and as she approached, Max dropped his hands.

  What she saw when she approached him was a look of total despair. Max ' what happened? She dropped to her knees beside him and without thinking held out her arms. And just as naturally he went to her and sobbed softly as they embraced. He said nothing for long minutes, and then at last he wiped his eyes and pulled slowly away.

  Thank you. I'm sorry to '

  We understand. Walmar went to the long antique table where a large silver salver bore several bottles of cognac and the remains of his stock of English Scotch. Without asking Max his preference, he poured him a glass of brandy and silently held out the drink. Max took it from him, sipping slowly and wiping once more his still streaming eyes.

  Is it Sarah? Ariana had to ask. Had he had news? He had sought information unsuccessfully from the Nazis for so long.

  His eyes sought hers in answer, and the pain of what he had learned that day was there, etched in all its horror, his worst fears confirmed. They're all ' He couldn't bring himself to say the word. ' dead. He took a deep, ragged breath and put down the brandy. All four of them ' Sarah' and the boys'

  My God. Ariana stared at him in anguish and wanted to ask him why. But they all knew why. Because they were Jewish ' Juden ' Jews, Are you sure?

  He nodded. They told me that I should be grateful. That now I can start fresh with a woman of my own kind. Oh, God ' oh, God ' my babies ' Ariana ' He reached out to her again without thinking, and once again she held him tight, this time with tears running down her cheeks as well.

  Walmar knew he must get Max to think about leaving at once. He could no longer stay in Berlin. Max, listen. You have to think now. What are you going to do?

  What do you mean?

  Can you stay here? Now? Now that you know.

  I don't know ' I don't know ' I wanted to leave years ago. In thirty-eight, I told Sarah then ' but she didn't want to ' her sisters, her mother ' It was a familiar refrain to them both. And after that I stayed because I had to find her. I thought that if I knew where she was, I could bargain with them, I could' Oh, God, I should have known' .

  That wouldn't have changed anything, would it? Walmar looked down at his friend, sharing his pain. But now you know the truth. And if you stay, they will torment you. They will watch what you do, where you go, who you do what with and where. You have been suspect for years, because of Sarah, and now you really must leave.

  Max Thomas shook his head. Walmar knew only too well what he was saying. Twice Thomas's law offices had been destroyed with Jew Lover carved in every piece of furniture and painted on the walls. But he had stayed. He had to. To find his wife. I guess I don't understand yet that it's over, that ' that she ' that there's no one to look for anymore. He sat back in his chair, his eyes full of terrible understanding. But where would I go?

  Anywhere. Switzerland, if you can get there. Afterward maybe to the United States. But get out of Germany, Max, she will destroy you if you stay here. ' just as she destroyed Kassandra ' and before her, Dolff. ' The memory of that was fresh again as he looked into the young man's face.

  Max shook his head. I can't go.

  Why not? Walmar was suddenly angry Because you're so patrio
tic? Because you love the country that has been so kind? Good God, man, what is there to stay for? Get the hell out.

  Ariana watched them, frightened; she had never seen her father look like that before. Max ' maybe Daddy is right Maybe later you could come back.

  But Walmar stood there glowering. If you're smart, you won't want to do that. Start a fresh life somewhere. Anywhere, Max, anywhere, but get out of here before it all comes down around your ears.

  Max Thomas looked at Walmar bleakly. It already has.

  Walmar sighed deeply and sat down in his own chair again, never taking his eyes from his friend. Yes, I know, I understand that. But, Max, you still have your life. You have already lost Sarah and the children. His voice was gentle, but Max shed fresh tears. You owe it to them and to yourself to survive now. Why add yet another tragedy, one more loss? If only he could have said that to Kassandra. If only she could have understood that, too.

  How would I go? Max stared at him, thinking, yet not really understanding what it meant to leave his house, his heritage, the country that had once given birth to his sons and his dreams.

  I don't know. We could think it over. I suppose with all the chaos these days, you could just simply disappear. In fact Walmar seemed to be thinking if you did it now, immediately, they might well think that you went mad from the news. You could have run off, killed yourself done anything. They won't be suspicious right away. Later they might.

  And what does that mean? That I leave your house tonight and start walking toward the border? With what? My briefcase and my overcoat and my grandfather's gold watch? The watch he spoke of rested, as it always did, in the pocket of his vest.

  But Walmar was still thinking. He nodded quietly. Perhaps.

  Are you serious?

  Ariana watched them, shocked at all she was hearing. Was this what was happening, then? They were killing women and children, leaving others to flee on foot to the border in the middle of the night? It filled her with a kind of fear she had not yet known, and the tiny ivory face seemed paler than it ever had before.