History Keepers 1: The Storm Begins (24 page)

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,’ Charlie 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 T
HE
V
EILED
E
MPIRE

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.

Jake and Topaz were shown to two vacant seats on the left. They sat down, their composure imitating that of the guests around them. But inside, they were both quivering with fear. Jake looked around at the sea of faces. It was as if a whole gallery of old portraits had come to life.

Some were old, some young, some middle-aged. Some were upright and respectable-looking; others had sinister faces, sullen and scarred. There were more men than women, though the latter were possibly even more impressive than their male counter parts (one imperious lady in an African headdress looked about seven feet tall). All radiated an arrogant power. They wore the finest clothes, the most sought-after jewels, the rarest perfumes. They had no doubt come from some of the largest
mansions
in the world, filled with wonderful, priceless things and scurrying staff.

Jake had never felt so intimidated in his life. This was the second time in three days that he had sat at a table of extraordinary people. The first time, in the History Keepers’ stateroom on the Mont St Michel, had been intriguing: the room was full of light and the conversation sparkled. This was another matter entirely: the chamber was dark, almost silent and charged with malevolence.

Jake stole a sideways glance at his neighbour. The man’s small head and sharp nose were directed straight ahead, his plump hands clenched together on the table. A sumptuous purple doublet was tightly fitted to his narrow shoulders.

Jake surveyed the room in more detail. Of the four remaining empty chairs, one was larger and more important-looking than all the others. It was the only seat with armrests, which were carved in the form of entwining snakes. In the centre of the table a crystal hand held up a mysterious sphere of sapphire blue that emitted a soft light – evidently a representation of the planet Earth. In front of each person stood a glass goblet of transparent liquid and a tiny tortoiseshell box. There was no sign of dinner.

The double doors opened and two more guests came into the room: an older man and his young, aristocratic-looking wife. They were red in the face and frowning, as if they had been arguing. They strode – the man with a slight limp – across the stone floor and took their places.

Finally, on the far side of the room, a low door opened. Compared to the grand main entrance, this one was inconsequential-looking, almost hidden in the wall. Jake froze as he saw the figure of Mina Schlitz step through it. She circled the room, scanning the backs of all the guests. They half turned their heads as she passed. Finally she took her place beside the large unoccupied chair, removed her red-backed snake from its box and stroked it.

Another figure emerged from the small doorway. From a distance he looked almost unremarkable, but Topaz’s face told another story. Her eyes became steely and her jaw clenched.

‘Is that him?’ Jake whispered to her. ‘Prince Zeldt?’

Topaz nodded, and he noticed that her hands were shaking. She held them together firmly under the table and edged her seat back a little until she was partially concealed behind Jake.

‘It’ll be all right,’ he whispered in her ear.

The prince took his seat. ‘Welcome,’ he announced in a thin, barely audible voice. Some people struggled to hear, but kept that to themselves. ‘Welcome to the Superia Summit. For many of us, it is our first meeting,’ he whispered. ‘For many of us, it will be our last … but the bonds between us will endure.’

There were murmurs of agreement. All eyes were fixed, like magnets, on Prince Zeldt. He continued:

‘Fourteen years ago, in the spring of 1492, Marsilio Ficino, a trite, whey-faced intellectual, wrote this – and I quote …’ He affected a slightly nasal voice: ‘
If we are to call any age golden, it must certainly be our age. This century has restored to light the liberal arts that were almost extinct: science, oratory, painting, sculpture, architecture, music …
’

Zeldt scanned the mesmerized faces around the table. ‘No longer God’s playthings, this age has placed humankind centre stage. Now the people begin to understand the universe and take control of their fate …’ He paused momentarily before spitting out the next sentence with such extraordinary venom that it sent a chill down everyone’s
spine
. ‘This age has seen the birth of modern man.’

The prince suddenly stood up and glared at his guests, as if
they
were responsible for the concoction of this repulsive phrase.

‘
The birth of modern man
?’ he hissed again.

Thirty seconds passed before his sneer relaxed into a sinister smile. ‘I don’t think so.’

There was a murmuring of approval that turned into a soft round of applause.

‘I am a man of actions, not words,’ said Zeldt, ‘so I will get straight down to business. I am sure you are all dying to know what our new world is going to look like.’

Jake turned to Topaz. He wasn’t sure if he’d heard correctly. ‘Our new world …?’ he asked. Topaz shook her head and shrugged.

The prince nodded at Mina. She returned her snake to its case, stepped back and pulled a lever. There was a whir of machinery and, behind Zeldt, a long thin section of floor slid back. Jake craned his neck to see: through the slim aperture rose up a wall of smoke. Mina crossed to the back wall of the room and turned a dial. A ray of brilliant light, as sharp as a laser, illuminated the smoke (as well as the faces around the table). A ghostly image started to take
shape
behind Zeldt’s throne: the symbol of a snake and a shield and, in giant gothic letters, the familiar word …

These millionaires were rarely impressed, and if they were, they seldom showed it. This was different: Zeldt’s state-of-the-art ‘camera obscura’ made them all gasp in wonder.