Date: Wed, 15 Jul 2009 13:53:57 +0000
From: Jo Vincent <joad130@hotmail.com>
Subject: Mystery and Mayhem at St Mark's:  Sequel 28

		      Mystery and Mayhem At St Mark's
				 A Sequel

				    by

				   Joel


Seq:  28:

             Some of the Characters Appearing or Mentioned:
Mark Henry Foster                        The story-teller: Newly graduated.
Tristan (Tris) Price-Williams        His well-proportioned boyfriend.
Francis Michael Foster                  Alias Toad/Microbe   Mark's younger brother
Adam Benjamin Carr                    Mark's cousin:  History Fellow
Ivo Richie Carr                              Ditto, as his twin, a diplomat
Sophia Carr                                    Their mother in Dorset
George Carr                                   Their father: A farmer
Victoria ['Tory] Carr                      Ivo's wife
George Henry Carr                         Ivo and 'Tory's new-born son
Sir Henry Machin                          'Tory's father, something in the City
Lady Mary Machin                        'Tory's mother
Ignasz Zendener                             The hotel manager in Strelzen
Tomas, Igor, Frantischek;               Receptionists and students
Aloys zum Adamszberh                  Rector of the Rodolfer University
Jerzy zum Adamszberh                   His son, studying at Cambridge
Tadeuz Galenosz                             A botanist, also at Cambridge
Herr Diesselhorst                             A relieved Minister of the Interior
Dr Schreiber                                    Musician at the Rodolfer University
Yniold Schreiber                             His son: A student
Pyotor Borisov                                Yniold's friend.  A promising singer
Margaret zu Glottenberh                 Andrei's mother: Related to Mark's family
Andrei zu Glottenberh                     Rothenian Army Officer [Special Services]
Klaus & Bastian zu G...                  His brothers
Lucasz Voynovich                           Rothenian Army Officer [Signals Division]
David Vinodosj                                Secret police


				  Monday

     With all that had happened before I just wondered what the day might
bring. I was still in Tris's single bed.  It wasn't uncomfortable.  He was
spooned up behind me and holding me to him.  I was at peace with him.  My
Tris!  But we had to shift.  We had slept so soundly and his little alarm
was ringing.  Seven thirty.  I crept out of bed, peed, shat, showered and
shaved and felt quite fresh as I dragged the duvet off a still recumbent
Tris.

     He opened his eyes, and smiled.  I knelt down and we kissed, gently,
with quiet passion knowing we were at one with each other.

     He smiled.  "I just wonder sometimes who I could be related to.  A
long line of Welsh lawyers is all I know.  Grandfather is always on about
our legal heritage.  There are farmers as well on the Williams side."  He
winked.  "Welsh sheep no doubt!"

     I stood up and put on a censorial air.  "We don't need any of that
smut this morning.  Get up and make yourself more beautiful than you are,"
I added.  He put out a hand and I hauled him upright.  "We can get dressed
properly later.  The last message from Ivo when we left the Christening was
that carriages would call at ten-thirty."

     We were early for once and waiting in the lobby for the others to
appear for breakfast.  I was itching to tell the news about Andrei to
Frankie but it would keep.  Jelka had reserved a big table for us and
everyone was wondering what was going to happen at the Palace.

     "I've brought a few cards to hand around if anyone there is
interested.  Who'll be there anyway?" asked Frankie.

     Both Tris and I shrugged our shoulders.  Frankie was still unaware
about our awards.  Polly said she was interested in seeing the interior of
the Palace and Kasim said he'd read up the description in the guidebook.
"Sounds very ancient," he said.

     So, breakfast continued and there was just desultory conversation
after that.  Mum had sensed something.  I suppose I was a bit fidgety.  As
we came out she cornered me.

     "There's something special, isn't there?"

     I had to grin.  "More than you suspect," I said and sealed that with a
quick kiss.  Mum's are special, too.

     As I dressed in my best suit I felt for the mended tear in my jacket.
That was a miracle.  My arm was OK now.  That was a miracle, also.  Mrs
Henson had clipped the stitches on Thursday and they had come out with no
trouble.  I just had a light dressing over the almost healed hole which
Tris expertly changed for me before I put my shirt on.  His head wound was
almost invisible now, too.  He would have a slight scar on the bridge of
his nose where he'd cut it but that would disappear I was sure.  I must say
we did look smart when ten o'clock came.  In fact we all did.  Polly and
Caroline looked stunning.  Waz and Kaz were in those indescribably
expensive suits.  Our eyes popped when Frankie and Pugsy appeared.  Their
suits were immaculate and so new and up to date.  Wasim was smiling.  "Only
the best for them."  They were really set up for formal College occasions
now, as long as Pugsy didn't grow any more muscles!  All assembled, with
Mum, Dad, Adam and Nate, Auntie Dil and Uncle Nick, all under the watchful
eye of Ignasz and young Karl and at ten twenty-five two huge limousines
pulled up.  Ivo came in.  He was grinning broadly.

     "All ready?  All aboard!"

     Mum, Dad, Auntie Dil, the girls and Wasim and Kasim were ushered into
the first with Ivo beside the driver.  The rest of us were in the second
with Uncle Nick in the front.  We were all relaxed and smiling as the
powerful cars glided along Lindenstrasse and turned left at the
Rodolferplaz and then into the road in front of the Palace.  We sailed into
a main courtyard past saluting guards and a military band.  "What the
Hell!" Frankie mouthed as he took in the spectacle.  "I thought it was just
going to be a quick handshake."

     The cars slowed down as we passed through an arch into an internal
courtyard and then came smoothly to a halt.  The doors were opened by
flunkeys in green livery.  Each group of us were preceded into the main
entrance hall and corridor of the Palace by a young officer with a drawn
sword held straight up.  It was so precisely done we followed almost as in
a daze.  We entered a huge, vaulted hall with chairs set out in patterns.
Ivo, Tris and I were led to three, dark blue, velvet covered ones to the
left of a lectern and facing it.  The others in the party were escorted to
a bank of identical chairs to our left directly opposite the lectern.
Gradually others came in.  Mr Marriott came and sat behind us. The rest of
our group filtered in with Gran sitting at the end of the front row next to
a carry-cot containing George Henry, I assumed, as 'Tory was in the next
seat.

     There was music playing.  Yes, a string quartet, plus Dr Schreiber at
the grand piano, with Dr Valentin standing beside him turning the pages.  I
noted Isolde was playing her cello and I recognised the last movement of
Schubert's Trout Quintet.

     Across from us were more chairs with a row of five in front of them,
with another two a couple of feet away.  Five very solemn looking boys
filed into them.  Our Baker Street Irregulars.  All in Sunday suits,
looking well-scrubbed.  They were followed by Jerzy and Tad who occupied
the other two seats.  What we took to be parents and other relatives were
already in the seats behind them.  Lastly, a door behind where our group
were sitting opened and a number of extremely smart soldiers marched in led
by an officer in full dress uniform, also with a drawn sword.  It was
Andrei and the squad who had been at the house.  He gave a quiet order and
sheathed his sword as the soldiers stood easy.  Behind them others came in.
I saw the Adjutant with his assistants including David in plain clothes and
another Army Officer in full dress.  Yes, that was Lucasz

     Everyone sat and watched.  I caught Frankie's eye and he gave a
surreptitious thumb's up.  Suddenly, exactly at eleven there was a clatter
as the big doors at the other side of the room were flung open and two
smartly dressed page-boys in old-fashioned green livery stood beside the
open doors.  Oh!  One of them must be Andrei's brother.  A personage
dressed in a morning suit of white tie and tails came in and stood by the
lectern. I guessed he was the Chef de Protocol or Chief Equerry.  He was
carrying a long, black, silver-topped stick which he rapped smartly on the
floor three times.

     In perfect English he announced "Your Royal Highnesses, Your
Excellency, Ladies and Gentlemen, please rise."  He repeated this in
Rothenian and I'd noted he'd inclined his head towards where Kasim and
Wasim were sitting, then towards Mr Marriott, as he said the opening words.
He raised his voice and banged the stick on the floor once more.  "His Most
Pious and Steadfast Majesty King Rudolf the Sixth!"  There was another
clatter as the soldiers came to attention and Andrei and Lucasz saluted.

     Yes, there was Rudolf, also in a tailcoat, followed by the
Cardinal-Archbishop in his scarlet robes with Father Artur beside him.  He
had his usual black cassock on but I could see he now sported red buttons
and had a red sash around his waist.  Oh, my!  He was now a Monsignor!
Following that pair were the General and the Colonel in full dress uniforms
and then the Rector in a magnificent academic robe trimmed with silver.
Behind them came the Minister and two others, another man and a lady.  Oh,
she must be the Minister of Justice's wife as she was skinny and looked
almost anorexic!

     As they arranged themselves to our right, where more seats were, the
Cardinal stepped forward.  In both English and Rothenian he asked for this
ceremony to be blessed.  He made the sign of the Cross and I felt that warm
zephyr I'd experienced both here and at Ulvescott.  I knew others were
present, too.

     As the Cardinal turned the Chef de Protocol banged the stick again.
"His Majesty."

     Rudolf stepped up to the lectern.  Though he was younger than us he
was every inch a King.  He turned and looked at everyone in the room.  He
raised his right hand.

     "Please be seated."  He then repeated this in Rothenian and added
something for the soldiers who stood easy again.  I saw Father Artur move
over to where the parents of the boys and others were sitting.  Rudolf then
continued in English while Father Artur translated quietly.

     "My friends."  He indicated us all with a gesture.  "During the past
few weeks our country has experienced upheavals which none of us would ever
want to occur again. You will have heard that evil forces have been at
work.  This is so.  However, those forces overreached themselves and their
plans and machinations have been overcome through the bravery and
steadfastness of a small number of young men who are present today.  Each
in their own way has contributed to the conquest of the wickedness which
has been festering within our beloved country."  He looked round the room.
"We pride ourselves on being open, liberal in our thoughts and ways, but
there are those who distort these qualities and abuse them to their own
ends.  For the moment and, I hope, for a long time in the future, those
people have been conquered and others will be deterred from trying to take
their place."

     He looked over at Tris and me and smiled.  "From what started out as a
mission to return objects which had been in the safe keeping of a College
in Cambridge has ended with the cleaning out of what one can only describe
as nests of vipers.  Vipers intent in undermining the peace and stability
of many aspects of the life in this country.  In between were acts of
bravery which are to be rewarded today."

     He turned and moved from the lectern and held up a finger.  A second
black-suited official stepped forward and took his place and bowed his head
to Rudolf.  "His Majesty has made it his duty and pleasure to confer the
following awards..."

     I was aware that Mr Marriott had stood and was now by my chair.

     "...To Mark Henry Foster, of the United Kingdom of Her Gracious
Majesty Queen Elizabeth the Second, the noble Order of Henry the Lion in
the Second Class."

     I stood as James Marriott nudged me and walked as steadily as I could
to stand in front of Rudolf.  Another official held a tray towards him.  He
picked up a medal suspended from a red and yellow ribbon and as I bowed he
put it over my head.  "You deserve more in my opinion," he whispered.  In a
louder voice he said "In the name of Rothenia I present the insignia of
this award in token of your bravery and courage.  Our country is honoured
to have you as a guest."

     Tristan Wallis Price-Williams was next.  He got exactly the same
treatment as I heard the whispered words before the louder announcement.
Ivo didn't get a medal.  He was presented with a scroll and the whispered
words, 'Bloody protocol. You'll get the works sometime!', before being
praised for his actions and diplomacy in full voice.

     So the presentations continued.  Andrei was addressed as 'Major'
before being presented with a medal on a ribbon as well.  I think it was
called the Flaviener Cross.  We would see it later as all I could see now
was a silver Maltese Cross on a fetching rose red ribbon.  From the way the
soldiers reacted he had been promoted in the field!  Likewise Lucasz was
now 'Captain' and received the same award as Andrei.  Then all the
squaddies got promotions and pinned on medals, Sergeant up to
Sergeant-major, Corporal to Sergeant and the Privates were all now First
Class.  The secret policemen were just announced as 'Herr' This or 'Herr'
That, but each got a medal as well.  Jerzy and Tad were presented with
scrolls and a small red box each.  I got the impression there were signet
rings of some sort in them.  All the time a photographer was snapping away
silently and unobtrusively.

     Finally, five brave young men were called forward one by one and
received what the announcing flunkey called the Humanitarian Medal of St
Lukacz.  Each received a personal word from the King as well.  As they
stood in a row before him the two youngsters who had been on duty at the
doors came through the big open doors.  They marched in step and were
carrying parcels.  Oh my God!  I cringed.  These were the parcels I'd left
with 'Tory containing the England rugby shirts.  On top of each parcel was
the brown envelope containing the copy of the Sherlock Holmes book.  Rudolf
turned to Tris and me.  "Your turn," he said.  Who had primed him?  Nothing
for it.

     We stepped forward, remembering to bow our heads towards him.  The
first young lad handed me a parcel and the envelope.  Yes, they were in
order, Tomas first.  I don't think he'd quite recovered from receiving the
medal from the King and when I loomed over him he nearly dropped to one
knee.  "Tomas.  You were very brave.  You tackled like a proper rugby
player."  I handed him the parcel and the envelope containing the book.  It
may have sounded trite but I repeated it for Igor and Frantischek, then
Tris said the same to Yniold and Pyotor.  The King was heaving with
suppressed laughter which was quite understandable and there was a quiet
murmur among the onlookers.  What came next I was sure was quite
unrehearsed.

     When the lads got back to their seats Pyotor placed his packages down
and walked over to the grand piano where Dr Schreiber was still sitting.
There was a nod and a smile.  Dr Schreiber played the two-bar opening and
Pyotor sang.  If his voice had filled the large drawing room at the
Schreibers it now quite effortlessly filled the vaulted hall.  It was
Sarastro's aria from the Magic Flute again.  Not belittling the magnificent
bass in the performance of Cosi on Saturday, but Pyotor's performance this
day was truly from the heart.  I was even more astounded than before at the
maturity and richness of his seventeen-year-old voice.  Older and trained
he would be the toast of every opera house in the world.  Even now he had
the audience transfixed.  He sang directly at the King.  It was his gift in
exchange for the honour he had been given.  I looked at Yniold, especially
when his loved one sang that second verse.  He had such a smile on his
face.  A seraphic smile.  He was a male embodiment of the beloved Saint.
Yniold, you are destined for great things, too.

     At the end there was silence, then applause.  Spontaneous applause,
which also rang round the room, led by the Intendant who was sitting behind
Gran.  Pyotor bowed his head towards the King who beckoned him.  He came
across and Ivo whispered what the lad had said in Rothenian, 'For you,
Sir'.  The King placed his hands on Pyotor's head and said something.  'A
blessing' whispered Ivo.

     That was not the end.  The Rector came over to the King who beckoned
me to stand again.  As I stood the Rector announced "For your contribution
to scholarship I am instructed by the Senate of the Rodolfer University to
admit you to the ad eundem Bachelor degree of the University".  He gave me
a cardboard tube embossed with, I assumed, the arms of the University.
Yes, I'd heard that graduates of Cambridge could apply for an equivalent
degree at Oxford without having to be examined.  I was now also a graduate
of the Rodolfer.

     But things weren't over.  It was Tris's turn.  The wraith-like wife of
the Minister of Justice came forward closely followed by Monsignor Artur.
She stood in front of Tris holding another tube.  She said something in
rapid Rothenian which the Monsignor translated as 'The Faculty of
Jurisprudence of the Rodolfer University and the Society of Advocates of
the Kingdom of Rothenia have asked that I present you with the invitation
to become a Foreign Associate of the Society of Advocates in recognition of
your actions in pursuit of the cause of justice in this our country.
Please accept with the thanks of the Ministry of Justice as well.'  Tris
bowed his head and his cardboard tube was handed over.  Ivo whispered she
had presented it as the Minister had a stammer.

     Still not quite the end.  Everyone stood as the players launched into
what could only be the stirring sounds of the Rothenian National Anthem.
Mercifully short, but sweet!  That completed Rudolf raised his hands.
Before he said anything Ivo whispered "It's the Blessing, the 'Pensk
Pozechnen'.  Quite an occasion!"

     When finished Rudolf turned and gave us a smile before being escorted
out by the other dignitaries.  The Chef de Protocol indicated we should all
sit.  I was somewhat breathless after all that and watched as the younger
of the two page-boys took a sixth parcel to a rather startled boy in the
front row of the parents and relations.  That must have been the sixth
shirt and the boy was Franzl's brother.  The Chef de Protocol then walked
to the doors where the two page-boys bowed to him and then closed them and
stood looking at the crowd who were rising and beginning to mingle.  The
soldiers stood easy and with a great smile on his face Andrei nodded
towards the taller page-boy and both came over to me.

     "Bastian, meet your cousin," Andrei said.  He couldn't contain himself
and, as the lad stared, he hugged me so tightly I was even more breathless.
As he let go I saw an excited group coming towards us led by Dad, Aunt
Sophie and a lady who looked just like our Aunt.  She grabbed me and hugged
and kissed me as soon as Andrei let go.

     "I'm Andrei's mother," she announced quite unnecessarily, it was so
obvious.  She gave me another kiss before turning and hugging Dad, then
Aunt Sophie and went down the line greeting Gran, Ivo, Adam, Nate, Mum,
Tris's Mum and Dad, Frankie, Pugsy, Tris and the Arab lads with Dad just
shaking his head in amazement following her and saying who each was.  Ivo
explained to us that 'Tory had distributed the family tree just before the
ceremony so everyone had more than one thing to cope with.  Mum was
mouthing 'Wait until I get you alone!' at her.

     Frankie stepped forward.  He grabbed Bastian's hand and was shaking it
vigorously.  They could have been twins.  Bastian was younger, but had the
same dark hair, his eyes and nose were definitely our family.  The
resemblance was uncanny.

     "Am I too old to be a page-boy?  I think the uniform would suit me,
don't you think so?" Toad asked, standing back and smirking.

     He was looked up and down with a look only Toads could produce.  "Only
good- looking boys may apply, like Marek and me,..." the Krote replied.
"...But you are very handsome," cousin Bastian continued.  Toad and Krote
were lost in a tremendous hug.

     After that it was pandemonium.  What we hadn't realised was that the
Colonel had also been raised a rank and was now a Brigadier from today so
he was being congratulated all round.  But we also had to cope with our
Irregulars who had whipped off jackets, shirts and ties and had their
England rugby jerseys on with their medals pinned by the English rose and
wanted to shake hands and ask about the books.  We let Ivo explain about
the Baker Street Irregulars and hoped a Rothenian translation of the term
would be comprehensible to them.  A shy young lad came up and bowed holding
his shirt.  "I am proud," he said, articulating the words carefully, "Thank
you!"  'Tory brought over the other page-boy.  "Meet Marek my favourite
pupil!" she said putting an arm round his sturdy shoulder.  He blushed a
bit at that recommendation, which helped to highlight his acne-ravaged
features.  But, he was a handsome lad nevertheless.  Yes, he had spilled
the beans about the parcels!

     Our medals were inspected and we had to promise that full stories
would be told.  Of course, Andrei and Lucasz had to be congratulated on
their awards and promotions.  Adam and Ivo were photographed with Andrei
and his mother and the whole family were arranged in various groups as
cameras flashed.  Another door opened and a smiling Monsignor Artur came
through.  We congratulated him as Dr Valentin behind him murmured 'Not
before time!'.

     "His Majesty sends his regards and says the lunch arrangements have
been changed and he will be here shortly and your meeting should start at
two."

     What we thought was to be a private lunch turned out to be a huge
buffet lunch for all.  James Marriott explained that as our lot were
destined for the six o'clock flight back to England the King has suggested
all should be fed and we could have our tete-a-tete afterwards as we were
staying on.  'All' included everyone who had been at the ceremony.  The
whole concourse were ushered through to another large room where tables
were laid out, covered in tasty morsels, and glasses of fruit wine were
distributed by young waiters and waitresses.  It was just stupendous.

     Rudolf came in with little ceremony and circulated speaking to all the
parents who were quite overawed and then so relaxed.  The Cardinal chatted
to everyone and the new Monsignor looked as happy as a sand-boy.  The
Rector laughed when I thanked him.  "You must come again and bring
Professor Tanner with you."  Tad and Jerzy said that Brett and Fido were
coming back in a fortnight's time and were to spend a month at the Botanic
Gardens and with the nurserymen in Rechtenberg staying at Jerzy's
Grandfather's house while there.  They would be meeting Stepan as well.
Why Jerzy winked as he said that was a mystery!  Not on your life!!

     The Minister made a beeline again for the pair of us.  He looked so
much more relaxed and was quite forthright.  He grabbed Andrei who
translated for him.  "I am so grateful to you.  I can only say you have
saved my career.  His Majesty will not accept my resignation." Bear hugs
weren't in it.  It might be a Rothenian custom but I had been manhandled so
many times in the last half hour my body felt crushed.  Still, mustn't
grumble we had achieved much and from the look on the Intendant's face, who
had followed him over, the subsidy for the opera house was not in question,
now or for ever.

     Andrei's mother was sorry that most of the family were off home.  "I
have talked to Andrei and he will drive you and Tristan to our house at
Wendel tomorrow if you like.  Adam and his friend will come, too.  You must
all meet Klaus and my mother."  We said we would be delighted.  Our flight
back wasn't until Thursday afternoon.  She laughed and pointed.  "I think
you will be entertaining Bastian before long if Francis gets his way."

     There was a great laughing huddle around Frankie.  He was handing wads
of postcards out to the Irregulars and explaining to them, Marek and
Bastian all about the cellars at St Mark's.  Wasim, Kasim and Pugsy were
more intent in consuming goodies.  Getting strength up for labouring work
on the morrow no doubt.  Polly and Caroline were chatting to David and
Lucasz and I thought 'No good, girls, they're both spoken for!'.  Sir Henry
had the Brigadier and Chef de Protocol in deep conversation while Lady Mary
nursed an uncomplaining George Henry who was being cooed over by every lady
present.  Uncle George was cross-examining Tad about Rothenian farming
practices, no doubt, and finding out about his hybrid discovery.  Jerzy was
being a perfect host and was escorting Uncle Nick and Auntie Dil round the
room pointing out the various rather ornately framed pictures of past
Rothenian royalty and dignitaries.

     I think we shook hands with everyone.  With Monsignor Artur
translating I congratulated Pyotor's mother and father on having a son with
such a glorious voice.  She explained that his great-grandfather had been
the solo cantor in a monastery choir in Russia.  "I am so happy," she said.
Tomas's mother had tears in her eyes as we praised her son.  Igor's mother
was there with his young sister and was wearing an embroidered Slavic-style
headdress and blouse in recognition of such a momentous occasion.  And so
it went on.

     We saw Rudolf disappear with the Cardinal and Monsignor Artur and
thought we'd better say our goodbyes to the family.  We were due back in
Cambridge on Thursday and Adam informed us there was to be a gathering at
Ulvescott at the weekend so prepare ourselves for a long session with the
Colonel!  We had to prise Gran away from the two musicians as all three
were discussing teaching methods and playing techniques.  The labourers,
Royal Highnesses maybe, but hungry like any other lads, were now looking
replete and Pugsy was finishing off at least his third glass accompanied by
thirsty Adam and Nate who had found what suspiciously looked like champagne
tucked away behind the makeshift bar and had beckoned over Lucasz and Mr
and Mrs Marriott to share their bounty.

     A slightly flustered official came round and gathered Tris, me, Ivo
and Andrei and escorted us out to goodbye waves from everyone else.  We
walked along a gallery with more old paintings I really wanted to look at
as they seemed a bit more interesting and finally came to a beautifully
furnished room, a gentleman's study which wouldn't have looked out of place
in a Cambridge College don's set.  A liveried waiter served us coffee after
Rudolf had welcomed us.  He indicated comfortable easy chairs as the
flunkey left and closed the door.  He looked at each of us in turn smiling.

     "I know others have been involved but you four have cleaned up a great
deal of the mess which has been fouling our system.  I am being quite open
with you.  Even our intelligence services were not really aware of much
which was going on.  We discovered very quickly that payoffs and bribes
were being distributed rather widely amongst certain of our supposedly
loyal civil servants and police.  A bit like New York in the 1970's the
Brigadier has admitted.  His group are monitoring other factions that have
come to light and we may have more trouble at some time. Our Armenian
friend is singing his heart out hoping this will mitigate whatever's in
store for him and what he's told us so far just shows the depths of
evilness we still have to deal with.  However, I leave all that to my loyal
supporters and the wheels of justice.."  He looked directly at Tris and me
and put his hands together almost in an act of prayer.  "Whatever you have
done I thank you from the depth of my heart."  He then looked at Andrei.
"We will dispense with ranks and titles for this meeting.  Before I ask you
to brief me on everything you know, Andrei, tell me about your good news."

     Family history to the fore.  Andrei had it off pat.  Ivo and I then
explained a bit about our other connections.  Rudolf laughed especially
about the birthmarks but we didn't have to show them off.  Andrei was given
an immediate week's leave to join us at Ulvescott with Bastian.  Rudolf had
Bastian taped.  "He's like your brother, isn't he, Mark?" I grinned and
nodded.  It was then down to detail.  We each explained our part in the
whole enterprise.  Rudi, as he insisted we called him, absorbed it all.  He
was particularly interested in our descriptions of the interventions by St
Fenice.  Firstly at the house, but when we got to the shooting-up of the
car he picked up a document off the low table in front of him.

     "My experts cannot explain how any of you survived.  The car was
riddled with bullet holes but no bullets have been found.  The gun used was
a new version Uzi and there was no way the thug could have missed."  He
smiled.  "You were certainly under protection and the other thing is the
car took no more than thirty seconds to get from the site of the shooting
to the forecourt of the hospital according to eyewitnesses and official
records of the times involved."

     I said about my feeling of time disappearing and the voice.  Ivo said
he hadn't finished dialling before he realised we were at the hospital.
Andrei just shook his head.  "I don't remember driving that bit.  I just
assumed I had been in a state of shock."  "No good asking me," said Tris in
a mock lugubrious voice, "I was out cold."

     Rudi said we and the boys were to be compensated for our injuries.
Both Tris and I spontaneously said that wasn't necessary for us.  Quite
large sums were mentioned and we both agreed this money should go into a
fund for needy students.  The boys compensation would be useful to pay for
their further studies.  "Some of ours could be used for paying for Pyotor's
training, too," I suggested.  Rudi said that Pyotor's singing had moved him
greatly, it had been so spontaneous and showed a loving spirit.

     We heard it wasn't the first time an apparition had been seen in
Rothenia but no further details were given.  Rudi said the stunning of the
thugs at the house must have been another act of intervention as there was
no other explanation.  We also heard that the newly promoted Monsignor
Artur was from a family, on his mother's side, which was descended from the
same line as St Fenice.  This perhaps explained his particular interest in
medieval history and his rather uncanny way of appearing to know more than
he let on.

     Rudi was highly amused about the plant hunting and the suggestion
about the brandy.  "Your College will pay nothing," he said, scribbling a
note on a post-it note.  "We found enough money stashed away in Gorschkov's
safes and in the Casino's undeclared accounts to float our economy almost.
Your suggestion about needy students will be a priority for some of that,
too.  We want to increase medical services in our smaller communities and a
couple of million euros here and there will start things rolling I think."
More notes were taken.  "Tell me more about the house and the Stein
family?"

     I had rescued my trusty shoulder bag from under the seat in the hall
and opened it and handed Rudi the bundle of photos.  He studied them
carefully as I went through the details.  He was particularly interested in
the one of Brett holding the image of St Fenice and the copy of the one
which was found in the house.  I gave him copies which he said would go
into the Palace Archive.  Tris then said if the house still belonged to the
family they didn't want it but had suggested it be gifted to the nation.

     "We would have to see what the lawyers say," he said, looking directly
at Tris.  "As a Foreign Associate you can appear in our courts without
further ado.  I guess a release of claim to title is all that is necessary.
Contact the Faculty for an opinion.  I will write personally to Dr Stein
and his son though, before anything is done.  A clinic of some sort would
be the best use. But be assured, that will be a priority."  He turned to
Andrei.  "I am badgered by various factions either to restore titles of
nobility, or eradicate them completely.  I think leaving the status quo is
a reasonable middle way."  He smiled again "I assume you don't want to be a
Count just yet?"

     It turned out that Andrei was a descendant of the brother of the
original Count of Glottenberg, an offshoot of the Royal line, and was
entitled to the rank as were his father and brothers.  I laughed and told
Rudi about Uncle Francesco and Aldo and my brother's fascination with
Aldo's Venetian titles, even if, like those of Rothenia, they were also
defunct.  "You can tell him I'm not scattering them like confetti whenever,
but there's always a chance.  Derring do or scholarship!"

     We chatted on, quite relaxed.  He was enjoying Oxford but was a little
fed up with 'tuft-hunters' as he put it.  His engagement to an American
lady was a bit irksome because of the separation but she was due back in
Europe soon.  As we stood to leave he shook us all by the hand and reminded
us that there was a television crew lurking.  "There is always a welcome
here for you and your families."  He looked at Ivo.  "Your work has been
noted.  I am sure that you and our new Ambassador will be with us for some
time."  He laughed.  "If Marek is to be believed your wife is an angel in
disguise even if she scares the pants off him.  Give her my kind regards
and I send a blessing to your son."

     We filed out to be met by a beaming Mr Marriott who explained that
Marek was the son of the Chief Equerry and was a great favourite of all in
the Palace.  As he led us out he said he had received his Royal Command to
attend Her Majesty in London to kiss hands on his appointment as Her
Ambassador to the Court of King Rudolf the Sixth of Rothenia.  Ivo was
happy, too.  Rudi had handed him a small red box when he shook hands.
Inside was a signet ring.  The engraving read FIDENTIA.  Andrei said we
were to be ready by nine in the morning and he would be bringing Lucasz as
well.

     Our next port of call was a small room where a young reporter was
waiting with a camera operator and sound assistant.  Tris and I were
interviewed in flawless English and had to display our medals and explain
that we had originally come to give the Cardinal a box, for me to talk
about Maths, and finally to find plants for the College liqueur.  I had
then been asked to give part of an organ recital as well.  Off camera the
reporter explained that our interview would be slotted into a complete
reconstruction of all the happenings so that the whole truth of the
corruption and villainy which had been uncovered would be given to the
people.  As a finale to all this we were whisked off up to the Cathedral
where for four minutes I was filmed playing a silent organ as there was a
said Mass in progress.  The reporter said they would stitch in a suitable
soundtrack.  If Dr Valentin didn't fall down the stairs laughing he was
very lucky.  As we left the Cathedral he said he would contact me about a
further recital.  He nudged me as Monsignor Artur shook our hands.  "I
can't wait until the next Chapter meeting when Artur appears all dressed
up!"  They went off together, arm in arm, laughing.

     It seemed almost a dream but in the trip back to the hotel in a
smaller limousine there was no time to contemplate.  No way.  My mobile had
pinged even before we skirted the Rodolferplaz.  'Just got to airport Luv
from all Mum'.  Moments later it pinged again.  'Tell Bazza I need mob num
c u sat F xx for Tris'.  Another ping.  'Dad says I have 2 send luv 2 u 2 F
x'.  At least his messages were just about intelligible and not just some
even more greatly abbreviated txt-speak!

     Ignasz was on duty.  He said he was very proud of the boys and we had
to show him our medals.  He looked at them most reverentially.  "Not many
given."  He reached down under the counter and brought out a copy of the
afternoon edition of a newspaper.  "Big story.  Too many people after dirty
money!"  He made a finality gesture, finger and thumb and hand slashing
across away to the right.  "All done now.  You are heroes!" There we were
on the front page standing with Andrei.  That photo convinced me we were
related!

     We explained we would be going to Wendel and probably staying the
night with Madame Glottenberh who we had found was related to my family.
He smiled.

     "Doctor Glottenberh very good man.  He should be in government here
not in Brussels.  My family come from near Wendel.  It is Radelnrisse.  A
beautiful town by the river.  But I like Strelszen, too."

     We said we were very impressed with the whole country.  "We will come
back to see more," said Tris.

     What a day.  We lay side by side on our separate beds and just
reminisced.  I suppose what was most impressive was the demeanour of the
young King.  He certainly had a grip on things.  "Dad said he's met one or
two of his family," Tris said, "Nothing startling just dealing with
inheritance problems, I think.  Rudi was having quite a chat with him at
one point but I didn't like to snoop."

     "And from what my Dad said he'll be here with the orchestra before
long.  Our families are going to be associated with this place for a long
time, I think."

     Later in the evening we popped out for a snack and a drink at the bar
along the road with Adam and Nate.  Unfortunately we were recognised so
didn't get a moment's peace.  Not really unfortunate, we had done a bit to
make this happy place happier!


                                                               Tuesday

     As commanded we were up, fed and coffee'd and waiting with overnight
bags in the lobby well before nine.  Ignasz had been in Reception when we
first went down about half seven.  He gave us a copy of the morning paper.
Lots of photos of the ceremony even though the captions were
incomprehensible.  Jelka must have sensed we might be recognised so we had
been led to a secluded corner at the cafe.  Adam and Nate sauntered in a
bit later.  They ordered the full breakfast so as soon as we'd finished our
more meagre fare we left.  We got back to the hotel after a good few bows
and nods to find Tomas and Igor on duty behind the Reception desk.  Both
were wearing their England shirts and had the newspaper spread out in front
of them. After they had greeted us warmly Tomas pointed at Igor.  "Dirty
boy.  He sleep in his.  He smell.  My Uncle will say go home and not make
guests' noses..."  He paused.  Vocabulary missing.

     "...twitch," supplied Tris and did a good imitation of a rabbit.  He
went over to the counter and leaned over it.  "Some ladies like the smell
of hot boy.  Makes them..."

     "...sexy," a very switched on Tomas said.  "He not.  He makes boy
sexy.  Your friends come back soon and make sexy again."

     Igor listened in silence not put out at all by the insinuations.  He
nodded.  "I like lady when I am older.  I try but she say I too quick.  Boy
better.  Can do all things good no worry if quick he like do again."

     We got the drift of his reasoning.  We didn't question him as no doubt
a disastrous encounter with premature ejaculation had occurred.  Yep, the
young lads' nightmare so we'd heard many times.  Rather than get into
further sexual discussion we went up to our room to collect our bags and
Tris's laptop and camera.  I said it was going to be strange linking up
with another strand of the family and wondered what the other brothers were
like.

     "We're only meeting Klaus and we met Bastian yesterday.  The other two
are in Brussels so Madame said."

     "I know," I said, "Andrei said they didn't move back to Glottenberg
until after the Communists went though his father had worked for the
government in Brussels as a representative."

     Tris shrugged his shoulders.  "Not very clear but no doubt we'll learn
more."  He laughed.  "Have you got clean pants on?  You'll have to be
photographed again!"

     Why did the birthmark gene hit both Toad and me and he got the sneer
one?

     We gathered up our clobber and went downstairs.  No Adam or Nate
yet. The boys were busy.  A minibus had disgorged a new intake of visitors.
Nine student-types with backpacks and loud voices.  Americans.  All male
and some sort of team I guessed.  They were tired and hungry we gathered as
they had travelled overnight.  Tomas's eyes were rolling in his head as he
tried to answer a barrage of questions with Igor handing out room keys.
Tomas gave us a pleading look.  Tris took over.

     "May I help?" he asked.  Nine pairs of eyes focussed blearily on him.
Questioning eyes all set in handsome faces mostly needing a shave.  I
guessed aged eighteen to twenty.  As he said about the cafe next door I
took in more details.  All fairly tall, all with rangy bodies as far as I
could discern, under what I assumed were letter jackets, with 'Drakes' on
the back, on top of tee-shirts.  A mixture of jeans and cargo shorts and
large feet in sandals or trainers.  They looked happier when Tris finished.
He found out they were a water polo team from a Mid-West College touring
various European clubs and universities.  Rothenia hadn't been on their
list but their last venue had been cancelled and they were running short
both of money and patience.  The cheapness of Rothenia had been the magnet.
Four days here and then flying home.

     Naturally, they praised Tris's English accent.  He explained they
could get by in English but German was readily understood.  Luckily for
them one of them had German ancestry and was quite fluent.  Big, blond, and
the smile he gave Tris reminded me of something.  I stepped forward.  I
asked which College.  Oh, God!  It was the same one in Iowa that Adam had
been at.  One of them, also blond and six foot, remembered him.  "That dude
got my brother Jed out of big shit.  He said Coach was about to chew his
balls off and he got an A." He laughed.  "No fucker in the football squad
had ever got more than a C before!  Is he here?"

     At that moment the pair came through the door.  Adam was just about
swept off his feet.  "You remember me?" the lad bellowed, "I was a kid then
when you came to the farm!"  Adam was flummoxed.  It wasn't every day you
get grabbed by such a beauty.  There was an excited gabble and all became
clear to him.  The others dispersed and went upstairs led by Igor while the
lad, Ethan we learned, poured out his brother's still repeated praise.
Ethan looked at Adam and Nate then at Tris and me.  "You together," he
asked quietly, his gaydar must have been zinging.  We all nodded and Tris
reached down and grabbed my hand.  Ethan looked at Adam.  "You guessed?"
Adam said he thought that Jed might have been gay.  "Me, too," said Ethan,
"I'm with Freddie."  We hadn't realised but the other blond hunk was
standing about three steps up on the stairs.  He joined us and we all shook
hands.  We said about the Spa and they laughed.  "Got a couple in the team
who could do with a bit of loosening up," said Freddie, "Very Strict
Baptists!"

     Adam said a session in the nude in the hot bath should baptise them
again.  "Best of luck if you can seduce them!"

     They went off up the stairs laughing just as Andrei came through the
main door.  He was dressed as we were in casuals with chinos rather than
cargoes.  Tomas drew himself up to his full height and greeted him with the
Rothenian bow.  More greetings in Rothenian then Andrei came over and gave
each of us a hug.  He turned back to Tomas who was watching intently.  He
said some more in Rothenian.  He grinned as he turned back.  "I have
explained you two are my cousins and we go to meet my family.  I said I
will bring you back safely tomorrow!"

     Outside was a familiar vehicle.  A black SUV.  It was the one the
thugs at the house had abandoned.  He explained it had been repaired and
he'd been lent it for the excursion.  No Lucasz.  We were picking him up
near the Signals Officer's Mess.  So we were off.

     Again a motorway.  We sped along taking in the countryside, bypassing
villages and towns, chatting away.  Lucasz wanted to know more about
Ulvescott and the people there.  Adam was a mine of information.  We
learned about the great friendships between the older ones and the
continual comings and goings of family and the entertainment of various
Arab dignitaries.  Adam said the Sheikh fully approved of what Wasim and
Kasim were doing.  I said they seemed such a nice pair and as Adam knew Mrs
Coombs the description of our arrival caused great merriment.  We stopped
at Luchau and had coffee at a restaurant near the river.  Lucasz took over
the driving and, I think, drove even faster than Andrei!  Just on twelve
fortyfive we drew up at a pair of magnificent gates which opened
automatically and drove up to a large mansion.  Built in the same style as
the one at Gastberg but bigger and in pristine condition.  Bastian was
sitting on the steps and jumped up as we approached.

     More Rothenian hugs and I noted he gave Lucasz a very special one.  He
approved of his brother's choice.  He led us up the steps to the open door
where his mother then greeted us with kisses all round.  Oh dear, I hadn't
sorted out how to address her.  Madame, cousin, Margaret, Mrs Glottenberh?
No problem.  "Call me Margaret," was the instruction.  Two more to come.
Again the family resemblance was there with the first.  Klaus was about
Tris's height, a bit shorter than me, but the black hair, eyes and nose
were unmistakable.  It turned out he taught French and Italian at the local
Gymnasium and was unmarried and lived in a small house by the river.
Lastly, we were led into a large sitting room where Mrs Forsythe was
sitting.  She was ensconced in a high-backed armchair.  She apologised for
not being able to get up easily as she had arthritis.

     "Och, I'm so delighted to see you," she said in a smooth Edinburgh
accent, "I hear you have had such adventures."  She looked at me very
keenly as I bent down and kissed her cheek.  "You look just like my brother
when he was younger.  And, look over there!"  She pointed to a picture on
the wall.  Two boys on a beach, one with a fishing net on a pole, the older
one holding a crab and both dressed in the early equivalent of Speedos.  I
went over to look closer.  It could have been Francis and me, or me with
one of the twins aged about thirteen and ten.  Mum had a snap of us two on
Brighton beach standing almost in the same poses, no net, no crab.  Yes,
the birthmarks were there and the family likenesses again.  Bastian came up
behind me.

     "This is mine," he said, pulling up the leg of the knee-length shorts
he was wearing.  It was definitely a case of 'I'll show you mine if you
show me yours'!  Mother intervened though.

     "Let Mark alone," she said laughing, "I expect there'll be a photo
session later.  Lunch first, though."

     But, before that we were ushered up the curving stairs and shown our
bedrooms.  No pretence.  Double beds.  We dumped our bags and went down
again.

     It was just talk, talk, talk over lunch and then sitting on the shady
verandah sipping coffee.  Tris was most intrigued with the set-up.
Margaret explained the house had come down as part of the Glottenberh
family estate.  This had got eroded over the years, even more so when her
husband's father had gone more or less into exile in France at the end of
the War when it was sequestered.  He had then settled in Belgium and had a
successful career in the brewing industry there.  Andrei's father had
studied in Paris and then was a lecturer in Politics and Philosophy in
Brussels before being asked by the Commies to be a representative with the
European Union in that city.  This had caused a bit of heart-searching, but
Rothenia came first even with such a regime in control.  At the downfall of
Communism in the country he had been appointed as a full representative and
was in charge of the Diplomatic Mission now.  Andrei's eldest brother,
Edward, was one of his assistants while Peter, the third brother, had a
post at the brewery just outside Brussels.  Both were married, Edward with
two boys and Peter with one.  No birthmarks so far.

     The house had been returned to the family in 1991 and was in good
condition as it had been used as accommodation for guests of the regime.
Andrei looked over at Adam and Nate.  "The room you're in was the favourite
of the East Germans but they didn't know the place was bugged like their's
was supposed to be.  Lucasz has seen the original records in the Archives.
Tell them!"

     Margaret was laughing, she'd heard it before and from the expressions
on Klaus's and Bastian's faces they had as well.  Quite racy as the
recordings included the pillow talk between one particular occupant of the
room and the 'lady' who had been included in the entourage but wasn't his
wife.  Lucasz said there were several where the bed was shared with
'boyfriends' even though the East Germans were anti-gay.  "I think they
liked coming as the place was so much freer than their own country."

     "No different now," said Adam, "Boyfriends to the fore!"

     Yep with six committed in residence I just wondered about Klaus and
Bastian.  Klaus seemed a little withdrawn.  Bastian, on the other hand, was
bubbly and, Heaven forbid, very like brother Francis.  No, not Heaven
forbid, my Toad was bearable even in more than small doses.  It was obvious
Bastian idolised Andrei and kept looking between Lucasz and him as if
weighing up what ticked in such a relationship.  In a suitable interval I
said Frankie wanted Bastian's 'handy' number.  The look on his face was
then pure pleasure.

     "I will send a message now," he said, pulling out a very up-to-date
small phone from his shorts' pocket.  Tris flipped him his phone and the
techno-savvy youth thumbed through and found Toad's number which he
transferred to his own device.  He laughed.  "I must remember to put 44 for
United Kingdom, eh?"  Yeah, techno-savvy!

     A bit later we all decided to wander round the large garden which
bordered on a tributary of the Radeln river.  Tris and I peeled off from
the others with Bastian as our guide.  He said he wanted to show us a
folly, in the English style, built by an ancestor in the late 1700's.  It
was an excuse to talk.  As usual with Rothenians he was straight to the
point.  As we stood looking at the shell-encrusted grotto with water
cascading down and pouring out from the mouths of jars and urns held by
putti he said, quite matter-of-factly, " I think I am more gay than
straight.  I have asked Andrei to tell me how he knew.  He says he just did
know.  He said yesterday to ask you.  You do not mind?"

     Bless Tris's kind heart!  We sat on the grassy bank outside the
grotto.  With Tris's careful questioning we found he had experimented with
a lad from the Gymno when they were both fourteen.  Nothing more than
wanking together and each other it seemed, as much was said with gesture
rather than words.  The other boy stopped as he'd confessed to the local
priest who had more or less told him his dick would shrivel and fall off
according to Bastian's amused account.  "He had a small dick anyway and he
was worried.  I still like him and we work together but nothing else.  His
dick OK now, he's grown!" He laughed and held his fingers about five inches
apart.

     Tris was also forthright.  "And what do you think of when you...?"  He
probably stopped in case Bastian didn't know the word 'wank', and
'masturbate' might sound a bit stuffy, and if he wasn't into literature on
the Web then 'jerk off' may have been too American.  No problem!  He
cottoned on immediately.

     "...We say 'strhunt', but in English I think you say 'jerk off' or
'wank', eh?"  Yeah!  Nifty must be on his reading list.  He looked quite
solemn.  "I think of other boys.  Is it because I am with boys at the
Gymno?."  He shook his head.  "I do not know any girls.  I have been to
dances but, no, I do not dream of them."

     "Anyone special?" Tris probed.

     He was nodding.  "There is Waclav.  I try not to look at him all the
time in class but we sit together..." He sniffed.  "...He looks at me and I
wonder...  I cannot tell.  His father is the pastor of the Lutheran Church
and I am Catholic.  I have a feeling he is like me.  We speak in English
together and he is so kind.  He comes here and my Mother helps him with
English, too.  I am not sure.  Do I ask him?"

     I butted in - here was a mixed-up lad who needed help - "We are going
to explore Wendel in the morning.  Why not invite him and say you have
English friends staying and it would be good practice for him?  We might be
able to say something especially if he sees us together."

     Oh my, Bastian when you smile you're enough to make any gay boy's
heart surge!

     "I will ask now.  Thank you."  He stood up.  "I show you something
special first.  You stand here."  He guided us to the mouth of the grotto
and placed us in the middle.  He disappeared for a moment.  The cascading
water carried on but now we were in direct line as the putti started
pissing all over us.  Hidden jets in six miniature cocks!  He must have
turned on another tap to catch the unwary.  The unwary caught Bastian as he
emerged.  Two dripping large putti held him as his shorts and pants were
lowered and he was held so a spurting stream of cold water hit him straight
between the cheeks of a well proportioned arse.  He was squealing and
squirming so hard he was powerless.  The Krote had been subdued.  Some
hope.  As we let him down he hopped, toad-like, wet garments round his
ankles, and disappeared again.  A second tap must have been turned and the
unwary were awash again.  This time from jets concealed below and pointing
upwards.  Krotes with drawers round their ankles, rather than a Tarnhelm on
their head, are just as easy to catch.  That nicely rounded backside was
slapped to howls of delight which drew other spectators.

     "I thought he would," said Andrei who had Nate in attendance, "Thank
you for giving him what he deserves.  Last time he did that was when we had
an Ambassador visiting.  Luckily, he had a sense of humour and Bastian was
tripped up into the pool.  I think a good smack is better."

     The Krote was not subdued.  He looked at me.  "Your shorts are wet.
Take them off and let me check you have the birthmark."

     Nothing for it.  My cargoes were soaked and flapping so I slipped them
off and slapped his bum again with the wet fabric.  He hopped.  His
well-formed dick flopped up and down.  Yes.  He'd also inherited another
patch of the French gene.  I displayed my inner thigh.  Yes.  We matched.
He launched himself at me and I had another hug.  Simultaneously Tris and
Nate pointed at Andrei.

     "OK, OK," he said resignedly, "Better join in.  He undid the top of
his chinos and a third birthmark was on show.  Of course I hugged him with
Tris and Nate laughing.  One to go.

     I spread my cargoes on a convenient bush to dry and Tris did the same
and we continued the conversation now with the others present.  I said
Bastian had talked to us and wasn't sure.  Andrei nodded when Tris added
we'd suggested his friend Waclav came with us tomorrow morning.

     "I approve of Waclav," he said, "He is quiet and I think
strong-willed."  He pointed at his brother.  "He would keep you in order!"
Yes, Krote had inherited another bit of that gene shared by Toad but not
me!  The sneer was exact.  It would be instructive to see the pair in
concert!

     We hadn't been sitting long before Klaus and Adam joined us.  No more
displays, though.  It was decided to have a proper line-up when we got back
to the house and we could stand under the picture.  I remarked how good
their English was, but they were also fluent in French, German and
Rothenian, with Klaus having added Italian.  I felt a bit inadequate, but
said that living on an island with the rest of the world, including the
Americans, apparently speaking English, meant we spent little time on other
languages, anyway it saved time for other interests.  Sneers all round!
Klaus said he was sorry he couldn't come to England this time.  He had
promised to visit a friend he'd studied with in Paris whose family had
returned recently to Ranstadt near the North border.  Krote, out of view of
older brother, was smirking and making boob shapes with his hands over his
chest.  Older brother guessed as our attention was diverted.  He breathed
out.

     "The Dear Lord gives us little brothers to torment us, I am sure."  He
looked across at Andrei.  "You are lucky you are in Strelzen most of the
time.  One more year and you can have him when he is at the Rodolfer!"

     Oh Lord!  I would be working in College and Frankie would be there.
Young brothers!

     Yes, Klaus was quite looking forward to meeting the young lady again.
He smiled.  "I must make up my mind.  I haven't found anyone else."

     Bastian was nothing if not kindness himself.  "I would like another
sister-in-law," he said almost winsomely.  "I have seen her photograph.
She is very pretty even though she is as old as you."  Toadness had crept
out.  Two elder brothers upended him and his still-bare backside was
slapped again.

     That episode over and shorts now dry we dressed and the mechanism of
the grotto was explained.  In the old days there had been a system of
levers so the unwary could be caught without anyway leaving as there had
been two foot pedals controlling the turning of the taps.  Bastian was
determined the gadgetry should be repaired.  I explained about the secret
door in my set and how Logan's engineering great-great-grandfather had
designed it.

     "Isn't Waclav going to study Engineering?" Andrei enquired, "You could
ask his advice."

     I nudged Bastian and said quietly "Get him wet and his shorts off
and..."

     The squealing from having his bottom smacked changed to giggles.  Both
sounds were very erotic coming from such a comely youth as he.

     Tris and I walked either side of him and Tris was questioning him
about his role as page-boy at the Palace.  He was so delighted he'd been
chosen and he had to be back as there was a Diplomatic Levee next week.
"And what about Marek?" Tris asked.

     "No good for me," Bastian said, "He's a good kid but he's straight.
Good fun, though.  He knows all the secret passageways as he's lived there
ever since he was born.  Mustn't say how because he's sworn me to secrecy,
but you can get from one side of the Palace to the other without being
seen.  Yes, I like him a lot but he's obsessed with some girl and she's
gone away and he doesn't know when she'll be back."  Better not say we know
about her - Gorschkov's supposed daughter.  "He tells me all the time how
much he likes Mrs Carr.  She's very strict but very kind, he says."  Yes,
no-nonsense 'Tory had also shown she was fond of her pupil.

     "Have you been to the Spa in Strelzen?" Tris asked.  Bastian shook his
head.

     "No, but I have heard it is good.  Marek's father won't let him go as
he says he is too young.  Some boys at my Gymno have been and they liked
it."

     Arriving back at the house we found Lucasz who had spent the afternoon
having an extended conversation with old Mrs Forsythe.  He explained he was
taking an examination shortly in English as a further military
qualification and needed the practice.  He was going to stay at the house
over the weekend anyway so he would be made to speak English all the
time. Mrs Forsythe then oversaw the photo session.  Four young men were
sent off with instructions to come back decent but showing off legs!
Andrei supplied me with a pair of the minuscule running shorts favoured by
Gabe and Josh.  Luckily I had nice thighs and the line- up was in age
order.  Lucasz and Tris snapped away with us standing beneath the painting
or arranged in the window alcove.  Bastian had his hand slapped when he
tried to raise the leg of my shorts another half inch.  Three-quarters of
an inch and my balls would have been on view, albeit encased in one of
Unc's scarlet thongs.  Dear boy.  Before we left I did give him an example
of Unc's design and I guessed it resulted in an immediate hard-on as he
felt the silky texture with his fingers.  Copies of the photos were then
sent off to Frankie, Ivo and whoever opened e-mails at Ulvescott.

     After another superb meal we sat and chatted again.  Margaret and Mrs
Forsythe went off to bed about ten and Bastian was allowed to stay up with
us, 'not too late', was Margaret's command.  Anyway, a bottle of fine old
malt whisky was found and even Bastian was allowed a dram.  In mellow mood
we asked when would the pair be flying to England.  Andrei sat up with a
start.  Nothing had been arranged in all the excitement..  No problem.  He
asked about our flight.  Tris suggested if they could get the same one we
could arrange a pickup - dear Charles at a pinch - and I said I thought the
set opposite mine was vacant as the Summer School wasn't starting until
sometime in July.  That left getting to Ulvescott and back.  Remembering
Rothenian time was an hour ahead of British Summer Time I said we could
hire a car if Andrei would drive but I would check with Ulvescott first.

     In half an hour flights were booked to Stansted on Bastian's computer
at what seemed a horrendous price.  Charles was contacted, mainly to
arrange accommodation, but he offered to pick us up at the airport.  A call
to Ulvescott resulted in Max phoning back to say he and Jak were in College
adding bells and whistles to the computer set up and if we didn't mind a
down-market Merc they could fit four small ones in Friday evening returning
early Monday morning with the milk.  Andrei phoned the hotel.  Yes, a room
would be available for Bastian tomorrow night and Monday night if
necessary.  I left a text message for Curt - he was probably at the Club -
saying 'Be Prepared'.  All this was most exhausting so we all had to have
another dram!

     Tris and I luxuriated in the comfort of that huge bed.  "Not bugged, I
hope," he said as he went Southwards.  My moans of delight would have set
any bugger - oops - off!  He was even more vocal and I had to shut him up
by sharing his offering to me with him.  We slept soundly after that secure
in the knowledge we had the protection not only of Andrei but a force for
good even more so than him.

     I think we woke together.  A perfect morning.  We had been told
breakfast would be ready from seven onwards so trundled down soon after
that.  An appetising spread of the usual continental goodies was there with
Andrei sitting in solitary state looking at a newspaper.  He had quite a
grim expression on his face.  This lightened when he saw us and we had the
usual hugs.  He indicated the paper as we sat down having loaded our
plates.

     "Three junior ministers have resigned," he said, "One of them was that
officer's eldest brother.  What a blow for the family!"  We knew he meant
the one who had shot himself.  "His office was riddled with corruption and
apparently he knew and did nothing.  You'll miss the television programme.
It's scheduled for Friday but I'll arrange for a recording for you.  I
despair sometimes except I know things will work out."  He grunted.  "Maybe
not for years but I was promised."

     Now was the time to ask.  Tris was ready.

     "You said you'd heard St Fenice before.  Is that what you mean?"

     His whole body relaxed. "Not only heard her, but I'm sure I saw her,
too."  He smiled.  "I was only six when it happened and I don't think
people believed me then.  My Mother and Grandma did but the others were
sceptical." He humped his shoulders.  "My brother Peter said I was seeing
things and I shouldn't read so many fairy stories."  He looked at us
sitting the other side of the table.  "Shall I tell you?  I know you've
seen and heard much more but we've shared things as well."  We both nodded
and waited while he poured another cup of coffee.

     "It's still very clear," he said, "But I'd better tell you a bit of my
history."  He took a swig of the coffee.  "As you know I was born in
Brussels as my Father was working there but there were still some relatives
still living here.  There was one very elderly Aunt of his who had survived
everything, but, like our family she had also lost her house.  She ended up
lodging in the cottage which her personal maid's family had.  I think we
had lost touch but a message came to my Father that she was very ill and he
got permission to visit her and brought my Mother and me.  Let's
see... ...it must have been in the summer of 1986 as I was due to start
school that autumn.  The cottage was in a village not far from Tarlenheim
on the other side of the country from here and there was a ruined abbey
nearby.  A very famous abbey in its time called Medeln."  He sat and
interlaced his fingers.  "I think I was quite an adventurous little boy
because I suppose I was fed up having to hang about while my Father and
Mother visited his Aunt so I went exploring.  Wonderful, just fields and
lanes and lots of woods.  Then, as I came to the edge of a small wood, I
saw a stone building.  It had a door which was open so being nosy and quite
unafraid I went in.  I went up a flight of stone stairs and came into a
very decorated room.  There were paintings all over the walls of people and
scenes like I'd never seen before and there sitting in a large wooden chair
was this very beautiful lady.

     "Do you like my paintings?" she asked.

     "I'd noticed a hunting scene with youngsters standing beside their
knights on their horses.  One of the boys looked familiar.  I realised it
could have been me.  I pointed to him.

     "Yes, Andrei," she said, "All my faithful knights are there and one
day you will join them.  You must learn like that boy to be good and
faithful.  You must promise me that."

     "I was six and that painting was the most beautiful thing I had ever
seen and I was in it.  I knelt down and I promised.  She raised a hand and
like you I remember her red sleeves and she blessed me.  I can't remember
her words but I knew that whatever happened I would be safe and I would
succeed.  When she finished she raised one finger and I was sure she said
'Fidentia'.  I knew that was part of our family motto as Father had told me
never to forget and never waver.  She smiled and told me to go home.  I
wandered around a bit more and must have been tired as I sat down and went
to sleep and my Father found me and wasn't very pleased I had wandered off.
I didn't say what I had seen until my Mother emptied my pockets and there
was an old metal badge which had 'Fidentia' on it.  I couldn't explain
where I had found it but told her about my adventure.  My Mother is very
wise.  She said stories about the Saint were well-known and I should always
remember what I had been told.  I have been back but the building is not
there.  An old tower it was according to drawings and paintings, just as I
saw it. Once it belonged to the Counts of Tarlenheim, the family of St
Fenice.  Now just heaps of old stones scattered about.  But I know!"

     "And the badge?" Tris asked.

     Andrei pulled down the top of his tee-shirt.  He drew up a thin chain
and a small polished badge was on it.  "I wear it all the time.  It's my
talisman."


To be continued: