Page 37 of The Last Kingdom

Decision, decisions.

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COTTON STEPPED INTO THE COZY ROOM WHERE A FIRE RAGEDinside a stone hearth. Heavy embroidered curtains lined with gold trim bordered tall windows. Bookcases filled one wall. Its owner apparently loved antiques. They were everywhere—chairs, tables, accessories, lamps, and desk. Clearly, no interior designer had cobbled this room together. No. This was a personal statement crafted by the castle’s owner. He noticed an LED monitor on the desk, the screen split into four images, one of which was the wine cave where the man he’d taken down still lay.

“I do hope you didn’t hurt him,” his host said.

“It might leave a mark or two.”

“It’s his own fault. I told him to be careful. But it was exciting to see you in action.”

He stared around, trying to gauge just exactly what he’d managed to get himself into. Paintings dotted the stucco walls. Monks in prayer, lords and ladies, the archangel Michael with his sword directing anxious wayfarers to heaven. A finely carved cabinet was filled with a collection of colorful drinking steins. Not everything was a period piece, yet it all fit. A mahogany clock with brass movements read 10:50P.M.

“Is that my knife?” the man asked.

“I borrowed it. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. If it makes you more comfortable to hold it, then please do.”

“Who are you?”

“My name is Marc Fenn.”

“Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

“I am the grand master of the Guglmänner.”

“And what is that?”

“Ah, the better question, Herr Malone, iswhyis that?”

Chapter 21

STEFAN FELT NO AFFECTION FOR THE HOUSE BESIDE STARNBERGERSee. It bore zero connection to the Wittelsbachs, other than rising from land they’d owned for centuries.

But the lake was different.

It possessed a soul that had always affected the family’s spirit, its waters a picture of peace and tranquility. The strongest wind barely ruffled its placid surface or disturbed what lay deep at the bottom of its heart.

Just like his family.

Ludwig II had loved the lake. Rose Island, the only splotch of land upon it, had been his favorite place. The king had spent a lot of time renovating and remodeling a small villa there into a refuge. The first rose blossoms came around mid-June, the second around mid-August, each lasting about a month, casting the tiny spit of land into a blaze of color. It was one of the few places Ludwig had felt truly at ease.

A place for him.

Fitting, it seemed, that he would die not far away.

He stood in the study and stared out at the dark water. The house, though dismal, offered the perfect base of operations. Not far from Munich, but sufficiently isolated to allow him to come and go without attention. His wife and daughters stayed at his upper Bavarian estate, deep in the Alps, not far from the Austrian border. His wife shunned the spotlight, preferring to live a solitary life, homeschooling their daughters. Surely she knew about his many dalliances. But, being the lady that she was, and reflecting the breeding that came from a long German heritage, she had never broached the subject with him.

She would make a good queen.

Quiet. Dignified. Satisfied.

He’d build her a castle.

Maybe he’d finally erect Falkenstein. At forty-one hundred meters, it was once Germany’s highest castle. First erected in the thirteenth century, it had been razed four hundred years later. Ludwig II purchased the property in 1883, three years before he died, intent on replacing the ruin with a romantic castle in a dramatic, High Gothic style. Plans had been drawn, but the king died before work began and the site remained a ruin to this day. Thankfully, Ludwig’s grand idea had survived, including drawings of the massive stained glass windows and Byzantine-like mosaic dome. It would make the perfect residence for Bavaria’s new queen. The other three castles at Herrenchiemsee, Linderhof, and Neuschwanstein would remain the revenue producers that they were. Millions of euros came in from them every year, thanks to a horde of tourists. And every kingdom needed income. Falkenstein would be their private retreat, becoming the official summer residence of the Bavarian royal family.

God bless Ludwig II.