The Ludwig Conspiracy(82)

I felt an inner rebellion against such obstinacy. “You have only to show yourself.” I implored. “Is that too much to ask? A wave of your hand, and there will be an end to your enemies’ scheming.”

The king frowned. “I did show myself, Marot. In the past. But since then, there have been two wars that I did not want. The ministers make me their plaything, the smoke of factories hangs over the cities, the people talk of socialism and revolution. This is no longer my world.” Ludwig strode through the brightly lit hall now, and his voice echoed back from the walls. “I do not belong in this age, Marot. And if I am to go under, then let it be as the last great ruler. As an example of what monarchy used to mean. As the last true king.”

“But Your Majesty,” I began in a pleading tone. However, Ludwig waved me away.

“Go now, Marot. Leave me alone.” He looked through one of the great windows and out into the garden, and for all his height and portly figure, he suddenly seemed to me like a vulnerable child, like the loneliest human being in the universe, a man on the moon, far from everything that was warm, bright, alive.

I bowed low and hastily went down the stairs. All of a sudden I wanted only to be gone from here, away from those bare rooms, from all the cold splendor, the silence and darkness. I stumbled out and exhaled deeply, as if that would enable me to cough up all the evil in the castle like a poisonous gas.

When I glanced up, the king was still standing there, staring out at the woods.

A bloodless, lifeless waxwork of a king.





IFGQMT, WFT, IFI, IQT





The morning of the next day gave me a warm, bright welcome.

I opened my eyes because the sunbeams were tickling my nose. Last night was only a horrific memory, and I went down in high good humor to the kitchen, where Maria was busy washing dishes. I crept up quietly behind her and put my hands over her eyes, whereupon, laughing, she felt with her own wet hands for my face. Our quarrel of yesterday over Ludwig seemed to be forgotten.

“Stop that, Theodor!” she cried pertly. “Or shall I put soap on your black coat and tell the king?”

“Only if you promise to come out for some fresh air with me,” I insisted. “Without Leopold. I promised the boy a new slingshot if he would leave the two of us in peace. In return I promise not to say a word about the king, agreed?”

“Very well,” she said with a sigh. “But only for an hour. Then I have to do the laundry.”

I let her go, and together we ran out into the green landscape, laughing like children, down the hill on which the monastery stood, and toward the woodland that spread over large parts of the island. I had not yet said anything to Maria about her strange expeditions to Oberammergau, and I decided that it could wait. Perhaps she might tell me about them herself sometime. Until then, I could hope that Leopold was only the fruit of a brief passion that had long ago grown cold, and no other man stood between me and my beloved.

As soon as we were in the shade of the beech trees to the south of the island, I tried again to take Maria in my arms and kiss her mouth. This time she looked at me angrily. Every trace of merriment had disappeared from her eyes.

“If this is what you lured me into the woods for, then let me tell you I’m no loose woman,” she snapped. “You can do that with your other girls, not with me.”

“There are no other girls,” I assured her. “Maria, I really don’t understand you. Don’t you like me even a little?”

“More than you can know,” she said, “but it will never do.”

“For heaven’s sake, why not? If it’s because of Leopold, then believe me . . .”

But she had already turned away and was running farther into the wood. Shaking my head, I hurried after her. Ever since our first meeting, Maria had been a sealed book. I ardently hoped that she loved me, yet she seemed curiously reserved as soon as I showed my love for her. Did she still feel something for the father of her child, even though he had disavowed her years ago?

I finally caught up with her. She was sitting on a mossy stone, beside a little bubbling brook, crying quietly. Her whole body shook.

“He . . . he’ll kill me,” she whispered. “I can’t do it, Theodor, or he’ll kill me.”

I froze. “Who?” I asked. “Who will kill you? Leopold’s father?” At last I decided to break my silence. “Listen, Maria,” I hesitantly began. “I know about your secret meetings in Oberammergau. I . . . I followed you one day because I was blind with jealousy. The man there has no more power over you. He disavowed you, and . . .”

“You fool!” she suddenly cried, as if beside herself. “What are you talking about? You don’t understand anything. Anything!”