*
The Castle Ruotkerspurch, Riegersburg
June 2
Ludwig said good morning to August, who sat and ate breakfast in the dining hall.
”Good morning”, said August, without looking up from his newspaper.
Laura, August's housemaid, was also in the room. She greeted kindly and laid out a plate to Ludwig. She smiled at him, but her face wore a sad mask, a painted smile on a crying clown.
She moved slowly in the room. Picked up August's glass, cutlery and plates. The cutlery she put gently on the plate and lifted on to a cart which she slowly pushed out of the room. August did not seem to take notice of her at all, as if she were part of the props.
Ludwig poured himself a glass of juice. He sat quiet and looked out a window. He was amazed that no thoughts pressed on. He told himself not to charge anything in advance.
While Ludwig drank his glass of juice August looked at him behind his newspaper. He had always had good intuition about people when he recruited middle managers as high. Occasionally there had of course gone wrong but that was exceptions.
August decided to give him a chance.
”I'll show you to your workplace. Follow me”, August said.
August and Ludwig stood in front of the stairs to the upper wings. Ludwig still did not know where he was going. Nearby on the wall a Caravaggio hung, Matthew and the Angel. Ludwig had seen it before, he wondered if it was a copy. The older version of Matthew and the Angel that was not in San Luigi dei Francesi in Rome had been destroyed during World War II. He didn´t have time to ask before August opened a double door of wood that was at the side of the stairs to the upper wings.
I know this had to have been a great day for Ludwig even though other matters pressed on. Ever since he was little, he had been sitting in the libraries of Stockholm, alternating between the Library of Parliament, Asplund´s City Library and the Royal Library. He had special places he sat on, preferably in a corner with a good view, when they were taken, he waited until they became vacant, or went to a different library.
Inside the double door was a similar staircase as the one above with wide mahogany railings and carpet pressed into the steps. It was much longer and slightly wider than the other steps. The staircase ran down the middle of a large hall, a rotunda with a central location that was the size of a basketball court.
Along the walls were rows of bookshelves.
The rotunda was blasted like a dome in the middle of the huge mountain that the castle was built on. Around the rotunda were several wooden stairs that went up and down into the mountain library.
Between the stairs were passageways into the mountain.
There were books everywhere.
It was without a doubt the largest library Ludwig had been in, a book's Tower of Babel masked by the mountain and the castle.
Wide-eyed Ludwig followed August into one of the aisles. They passed through several rooms whose walls were covered with bookcases. After five rooms in a row, they came into a chamber.
From the ceiling hung a chandelier with weak electric lighting. Along the walls stood bookcases like in the other rooms. Beside one of the cabinets was a simple, black coffin.
In the middle of the room stood a table covered with books. Also on the floor were books all over the place, opened and stacked. It looked like someone had worked very hard with the material and then just stopped abruptly.
Ludwig suspected that this disorder had something to do with his assignment. August stood in front of the desk.
”This is your work. The first thing to do is to register what books are here. I want to know the title, author, year, and publisher. I want to know how in shape you found them, which page was opened, what other books that lay in the pile, which books were lying around.”
Ludwig pressed his lips together and nodded. His gaze wandered over the books. This could very well fit to displace the thoughts of the police and the prison. If there was something he liked it was to drown himself in books. They had been effective over the years to cure loneliness and sadness, creating the worlds in which he was so dependent on.
August continued.
”It should not take that long. Once you are done with this, you should go through all the books, to see if there are any bookmarks, dog ears, circles, damp pages, stains, imprints, margin notes and so on. And I want you to write everything down in this book.”
August laid a leather bound book with string on the desktop.
”If you need to take pictures, I suggest that you change the lighting and avoiding flash whenever possible. There are some lights in here that you can move on, you see. Use this Nikon camera that is in here.”
He tapped on the glass to one of the bookcases.
”If you take a picture, even if it is bad then don´t delete it. I want to know everything you do in here.”
August looked around.
”So. I think that is all you need to know. When you are finished, put everything back to its original location.”
Ludwig was eager to get started. He had no intention of asking what the purpose was of the assignment. He was just glad he was able to focus on something else. It seemed as if August still had no idea who he was.
August turned in the vault into the room and said.
”I expect that you are ready in time for dinner.”
Ludwig barely heard the last part August said. He started immediately with taking out the Nikon camera. He put up some lights in front of the books lying on the floor, angled the light so that the titles were not blinded when he pulled the trigger. He went around the room. Then he took a picture of the books that lay on the table.
When he was finished with taking pictures he put away the camera on the bookcase. He began picking the books. His first thought was that all the books in some way were about Christianity. The pattern didn´t hold after ten or twelve books. He continued to pick and read at random.
For a moment he felt like the student in history at the university of which he was part of as recently as a few years ago. He loved to browse through old books in the Royal Library, understand the mind of past generations. Walk along the streets of Renaissance Rome, exploring the streets of Stockholm's old town, try to feel how it smelled, how they did it. Escape reality and into worlds he could control, build and govern. Far was the psychopath as he was painted out to be in the press. The offender who had no inhibitions.
The books piles seemed not to be arranged in any particular order. The books that lay on the floor did not have more in common with each other than those who were on the table. Those who were together were no more common than with those in other places.
Someone had written in the margins of the books. There were traces of erased marked words and circled words in almost every book he read. Some underlining was smudged, others were made with ink. It was short observations and notes, sometimes small drawings, lines and strange symbols. Ludwig stock on a note that he found on a page in a book by GRS Mead:
August 17
Remember: The Law of the Light = Caravaggio´s light
September 24
Should I tell?
Ludwig wrote the notes in the book given to him by August. He recorded in a footnote which book it was, which page. When he had had the time to look at half of the books August appeared again in the vault.
”Ludwig. Now it's dinner.”
They ate a steak with potatoes and vegetables and a dark, creamy sauce.
For dinner Laura had decanted a heavy red wine from Chateauneuf du Pape. Ludwig broke the silence.
”May I ask why I´m doing this?”
August chewed. Took a sip of wine.
”Well, did you finish?”
”No”, Ludwig remembered the negotiations from yesterday, and did not want to lose this. ”But with all due respect, you must understand. I have not had time to count them, but it's certainly more than a hundred books down there, and given that you said I could not use flash so it took a few hours just to tak
e pictures of them. Because they had to be in the same order when I was done.”
”Ludwig, it is on this -”
This time Ludwig interrupted August.
”The work is no problem but I just ask for a little time here. If you ask me, it is not much to ask.”
Ludwig tried hard to the max. He tried to tighten up his voice as best he could. He knew nothing of the warrant for his arrest in Sweden. The castle was the perfect hiding place.
August sat quietly for a few minutes. Finally he said grimly.
”Maybe you're right. You get the job anyway. You can continue tomorrow.”
Ludwig sank slightly after the announcement. When the voltage15 dropped, he suddenly felt drowsy.
As they stood at the foot of the stairs in the upper part of the castle August said unexpectedly.
”You mentioned something about salary yesterday, if I remember correctly. We can discuss it tomorrow. We ensure that your trip here and the day's work will be paid. Think about what you would like to receive as salary and request it. Notify me tomorrow at breakfast.”
August wanted to look through Ludwig's work for the day. He handed over the notebook. August said good night and walked away along the corridor to the end of the wing where a lounge was. Before he closed the doors Ludwig saw a portrait hanging over the fireplace. It showed a woman with a warm smile and mesmerizing eyes. He had not yet made the acquaintance of the beautiful Victoria.
August sat in an armchair in the lounge. He placed the notebook on his lap. He waited to open the book. He stared at the front.
He opened the book and read through it quickly. He pulled his fingers over the words and closed his eyes. He thought of his wife.
Ludwig lay in bed and looked at the clock. It was just after eight. For the first time in a long time, he was tired. Ella and the image of the ape who stroked her cheek had not turned up at any time during the day, which had not happened since it happened.
He felt that a small but important control had crept into his life just in a few days. A control that he was denied in Sweden.
Despite the control, she was still there when he closed his eyes.
The houses were still empty and the dawn was almost over.
She refused to turn around. He went a little faster, she went a little faster. He reached for her, but touched only with his fingers on the back of her blouse.
He could hear her laugh, or cry, it was difficult to know what it was but he could at least hear her.
The windows of the houses were empty. The curtains were still drawn. No one met them in the street. The traffic lights were off.
She stopped. Ludwig froze.
She turned around.
Ludwig sat up in bed. Rubbed his eyes. Although the memories hurt he could not bear to force them out. Do as they said at the prison:
Take a pill and run down your head in a zinc tub full of chemicals.
Be clean and free, gain insight as they said, leave that which he did not want to leave.
He listened to the wind and the old castle´s whispers and shouts.
Normally, he would have been afraid to sleep in a separate wing of an old medieval castle. But the very idea of ghosts made him hopeful. Death had always frightened him with its uncertain end.
But if ghosts existed, it meant that there was life after death.
Something to look forward to.
Something broke through the silence, a weak recurrent sound.
Ludwig put his head against the wall and listened.
Distant he heard sobs. After a few minutes there was no doubt about it.
Somewhere in the castle, someone cried.
14
Rome
Year 1599
About the same time in the evening as Ludwig fell asleep, over 400 years earlier the gate slipped open at Piazza del Popolo. Michele stood at the obelisk with Fabrizio and Mario, unaware that at this moment, his and Ludwig's fate intertwined even further.
Michele looked at the graffiti. He thought about what Fabrizio said had said about Thoth´s Brotherhood and the Theatre. He tried to remember more of what his father said about the Theatre when he was little, when he thought he had read him stories.
They stood in silence, listening to the guard who raised his voice to some who wanted to get into.
He denied them.
Michele froze. He recognized the deep voice on the other side of the gate. It was Sciarra. He heard him threaten guard. He swept the square and the houses with their eyes.
There was no time and there was no place to escape to. Michele could just stand still and wait for fate.
The guard stood firm and eventually Sciarra´s voice disappeared. They were promised to get in at dawn. Michele heard how they rode away.
The same city guard who let them in opened the gate. After him a carriage rode in with four black coats on horseback that guarded the carriage on each side. The carriage rode into the torch-lit avenue of via Ripetta.
The guards who stood along the avenue looked towards the prison transport. The torches were shaking. The driver of the carriage had boils on his face. The men who rode as patronage had all vomit on their black hoods and pale faces. It looked as if they had seen the devil.
Michele heard something, at first he thought it was his imagination. For Michele's sake, I wished it was but like the others he heard it louder after a while.
The wind from the horsemen and the carriage voiced a muffled rumble, like a monster in a cave. The carriage was wrapped in a dark cloth that was over the windows and doors, the rumble came from inside the horse carriage.
Fabrizio punched his partner and Michele on the arm. His voice trembled.
”Now I know the prisoner that vacca in the gate spoke of. Father told me the other day. Do not ask me how, but they managed to imprison him in Venice and would bring him to Rome at all costs.”
Fabrizio looked anxiously at his friends.
”It's the Nolan, Giordano Bruno, they are transferring to the Inquisition. He who possesses the most terrifying forces father says that he acquired in the Theatre ... where he ... ”
Fabrizio swallowed the words. Michele had also heard of the Nolan and his mystical powers, also from his father.
Even as a youngster he had done amazing things. He had crossed the Tiber by walking on the water, in the mountains near the Bolsena lake several villagers had saw him hugging a huge oak that rotted in his arms.
He was a ghost, a monster that everyone on the entire peninsula feared, even Sciarra. Michele's mother had warned him when he was little, when he was disobedient
”Beware, Michele, otherwise the Nolan will take you.”
They stared at the carriage while the dust swirled in the air.
15
The Castle Ruotkerspurch, Riegersburg
June 12
Ludwig woke to the alarm of the cell phone. The clock showed 5:04. He set the clock consciously a few hours before wake would be at the prison to break the pattern, in order to remind himself that he was out of the cage.
Ludwig turned off the alarm and went through the corridor in boxers to the toilet. Took a quick shower and cleaned his mouth. He pulled on his workout clothes and ran his now usual stretch down to the village, crossed the little street that cut through it, up the hill a few miles away. With hands set against his knees, he stopped on the hill and puffed out. He looked up at the castle and down to the sleeping village.
The air was fresh and unused.
He stretched near the herb garden and the statues up at the castle. The training was the medicine. It worked. The blood pumped out life in his veins.
Control over the feelings was again his, at least to some extent.
The village and the countryside spread out below him. In the cell, he had only had the gray concrete wall as a view. The grille on the window framed the greenery outside, like a painting on a wall. There was not even a C-building on the horizon. For nearly two weeks, he had been at the castle. Not a
hint of suspicion had been aroused in August. Not a police car had driven through the village.
He began to feel calm.
Ludwig had always thought that it was something special to get up very early. Go for a stroll in the town, go for a walk while the dew was still present. Wait and see how everything woke up. As a master monitors his apprentice. The butterfly that is born out of the pulp. The control of the process. He was an animal, he was happiest in moving about at dusk and dawn.
When he came back to the castle, he took out the breakfast and ate. Left it out for August who ate at half past seven. Their routines were now hand in hand. Or hand behind the hand. Ludwig avoided August. He was just trying to mark his presence. Let him know that he worked so he could disappear down to his hiding place in the library and step into another world.
Ludwig ran up to his bathroom. Threw off his clothes. Washed away the training. Pulled on deo. Combed his hair. Put on jeans and a hooded sweater with a print which said Harvard, which he brought from the summer house of his mother, which he got from Ella.
The shirt was part of a little experiment on her part which Ludwig reluctantly agreed to be part of. Since the shirts were quite common among the in-crowd in Stockholm, and nobody probably gone to the university, she said out loud when Ludwig and she was close to an outdoor bar where one wore the same shirt sat and sipped wine.
”Look, baby, that guy has also gone to Harvard, do you recognize him?” The man run away run away and locked himself into the toilet.
He took his mobile with him. Ran down to the library and lit up the rotunda and sat at the table in Victoria's room. He took out a playlist of old songs that he liked in high school. He did not want to evoke any memories from recent years. Pressed play. Music swang from the mobile external speakers and filled the room.
From the depths of the sea, back to the block
Snoop Doggy Dogg, Funky, yes but of the Doc
Went solo on That ass, but it's still the same
Long Beach is the spot where I served my cane