Kingdoms Fall - The Laxenburg Message (30 page)

           
“Does Princess Zita share her husband’s devotion?” Wilkins asked.

“In the Princess, Charles has found the perfect
counterpart. I fear Charles and Zita will be the most devout rulers Vienna has
ever been forced to endure. Now mind you, I am myself a devout Catholic.
Everyone in Vienna is Catholic. And we respect the Church. But we do not let
the Church invade our politics.”

“I fear we are again getting into matters of
state that we had better avoid, my dear Count,” said Wilkins.

           
Heinrich arrived to pour the Château Lafite. As he poured for the men, Gresham
excused himself. He made his way through the dining room and down a short
hallway to the lavatory. An attendant stood stoically just inside the door.
Gresham began the laborious process of unbuttoning himself when another young
gentleman entered the lavatory.

           
“
Wie geht es dir
, Otto?” the man asked the attendant, who smiled and
nodded quietly.

           
Gresham was standing at the mirror, attempting to correct his cravat, when the
young man came to stand beside him, placed a folded slip of paper on the
counter before Gresham, adjusted his jacket, and departed.

           
Gresham picked up the paper and strode out into the hallway to read it. There
was nothing to read: The paper was marked only with a large black cross. It was
not at all the message Gresham was hoping to receive, but at least it was
contact.

Despite his assurances to Mackenzie and to
Colonel Stumm to the contrary, Gresham
did
intend to hold an unapproved
meeting in Vienna. He needed assistance to complete their mission, and Gresham
had reached out to those who he believed would have no qualms about the task he
needed done:  The
Black Hand. 
Mackenzie may not have had
spies in Vienna, but the
Black Hand
did, and, on Corfu, Gresham found
those who could assist him. Now in Vienna they had made contact, but the task
Gresham had requested of them was still incomplete.

           
Shortly after Gresham returned to his seat at the table, a line of waiters arrived
to deliver the silver-domed platters of beef. They were followed by a
diminutive child, wearing a tiny tuxedo and cravat, who pushed a cart laden
with the garniture: horseradish,
apfelkren
, mustard, pickles, potatoes,
cabbage, spinach, onions,
sauerkraut
, and the rest, followed by Heinrich
who inspected the table, refreshed the wine glasses, and nodded, thereby
granting his waiters permission to uncover the platters and the guests
permission to begin eating their meal.

           
“There, gentlemen, what did I tell you,” said the Count with tremendous pride.

           
“Quite adequate, indeed,” said Wilkins.

           
“My dear Count, Charles may be terribly Catholic, as you say,” Gresham
continued, “but is that not in accordance with the Hapsburg tradition?”

           
“Yes, of course, but the House of Hapsburg is so much more. Austria, Hungary,
Bohemia, Switzerland, Spain, Portugal, Prussia, France, Belgium, Italy,
England, Mexico, Russia, and even Brazil – their monarchies are all connected
to the House of Hapsburg. From Count Radbot in the Herzogtum Schwaben a
thousand years ago to the All-Highest Franz Joseph today, the Hapsburgs led
Europe out from the Middle Ages to become the center of civilization it has
become. Will Charles carry on that legacy, I ask you? Or shall he enthrall us
to the Vatican?”

           
“But would he not then be inclined to view his fellow Catholic nations with
great amity? Say, for example, if Ireland were to become an independent nation,
would not the Archduke view such a nation as Austria’s natural ally?”

           
Before the Count could answer, Wilkins cut him off:  “With all due
respect,” Wilkins said icily to Gresham, “I believe our biography of Charles
should be confined to personal matters, family, diversions, and so on. All this
talk of empire and politics makes my neck tingle. My good Count, please tell us
about the theater and the opera instead. What is the Archduke’s favorite opera?
Who is his favorite painter? Has he any pastimes? Have you visited his home in
the Upper Belvedere?”

           
“Alas, I have not been to the Belvedere since Franz Ferdinand lived there. As
you know, Charles has spent much of the war with the garrison at Teschen thus
far, and the time he has been at home has mostly been spent with the Princess
and their children in the country. Princess Zita has little interest in hosting
galas at the Belvedere without him. It is generally known, by the way (and this
is no state secret, Herr Kruger), that Charles will depart this spring to take
command on the Italian front. It’s long overdue, I say – good heavens, the man
could become Emperor any moment and he has never held a command of any kind!”

           
“We’ve heard that Charles is a very kind and compassionate man,” said Gresham.
“Is he quite suited to the job of commanding troops in battle? Perhaps his
skills shall prove to be more in the diplomatic line.”

           
“You may be correct there,” said the Count. “Charles has many friends, but a
warrior must be fierce. That, I assure you, is not Charles. No, he stays in his
country estate most of the time, he rides, he hunts, he collects coins, and he
hikes in the country with Zita. He is a quiet man. Yet he is to be our next
Emperor, so, somehow, he must discover his strengths.”

           
After dinner, Gresham and Wilkins took a carriage through the brightly lit,
shimmering white city to arrive at last at their hotel, the
Grand
, the
finest accommodation in Vienna and one which Wilkins claimed was as good as the
Savoy.
He arranged for them to take an enormous, well-appointed suite:
Each room even had its own telephone. At Wilkins’ request, the hotel also
provided servants to see to their needs; their luggage, which had preceded
them, was already unpacked and stowed, and a bottle of Gresham’s Irish whisky
awaited him in their salon. Tempting though the whisky appeared, Gresham had
drunk quite a great deal of wine with their dinner.

           
“I really am uncertain how many of these interviews I can bear,” Wilkins said,
flopping down on the divan and lighting a cigarette. “That inflated, billious
Count, there’s nothing he told us which the world does not already know. And
tomorrow we must interview Baroness von Gutterburg, a woman with a reputation
for scandal.”

           
“I am rather partial to scandalous women. How old is she?”

“She is older than my grandmother.”

“Oh. At least we are meeting with Prince Xavier
in a few days,” said Gresham, “and our colleagues know we are here.”

           
“Did you make contact with them already? When?” asked Wilkins excitedly.

           
“Just a signal, in the lavatory, but no word as to whether or when they will
respond to my request.”

           
“And you did notice the gentlemen at the table near us at the restaurant, did
you not?”

           
“Von Stumm’s men, yes. They are keeping a close eye on us, as we expected. I am
certain our colleagues were aware of them as well, or they would have
approached more openly.”

           
“Then we shall have to play our parts well. We are likely to have only one
opportunity, my friend, and you had better be prepared,” Wilkins said.

           
“Yes, I agree, at the Auersperg Ball.”

           
Wilkins had arranged all of their interviews to take place at the most lavish
and expensive public places he could devise lest someone accuse them of
secrecy. Their interviews were conducted over enormous meals and innumerable
bottles of the finest wines; expense was of no concern, and more than once
Gresham and Wilkins had stayed out late drinking and making a terrible show of
themselves. Gresham, in particular, spoke at length with anyone who understood
English about Home Rule for Ireland and the fate of Ulster, he decried Irish
participation in the war on the continent and spoke favorably of how Sir Roger
Casement had rejected his British title to side with the Parnellites in favor
of Irish nationalism, all to the delight of the Austrians. They were still
followed occasionally by von Stumm’s men, but within a few days’ time the
blanket of surveillance began to dissipate.

The interview with Prince Xavier would be the
major exception to these public displays. In part, this was because Xavier
requested to meet them at the
Grand
, and in part because no one in their
right mind would accuse the Prince of treason. Indeed, even though he was an
officer in the Belgium army and fought with the French army on the Western
Front, he had
carte blanche
to enter or leave Austria even if men like
von Stumm didn’t like it. He was brother to Her Imperial Highness, Princess
Zita of Bourbon-Parma, wife of Archduke Charles himself, and therefore above
suspicion.

Although a “Prince” in name, Xavier’s title,
like that of his six brothers, was based on his father’s claim to the Duchy of
Parma, as descendant of Philip, Duke of Parma, the third son of King Philip V
of Spain and Elizabeth Farnese. The Duchy was a fiefdom surrounding the city of
Parma in northern Italy that had unfortunately been annexed during the Italian
Unification and so it no longer existed. Xavier had been born in Italy, but was
raised in Austria and Germany and attended university in Paris, where, in the
months before the war, he had met the sons of Lord Bartlett. At the outbreak of
the war, Xavier and his brother Sixtus enlisted in the Belgian Army; however,
several of his older brothers were officers in the Austrian Army.

After Gresham and Wilkins conducted several
minor interviews in their first days in Vienna (and indeed learned enough to
write a very poor book about Archduke Charles) and had made quite a spectacle
of themselves, the date of their “interview” with Prince Xavier at last
arrived.

           
“James, how good to see you again, and how much older you look,” said Xavier as
he entered their suite at the
Grand
. He was a very tall, lanky man with
dark, elegant Italian looks and a fine mustache. He moved fluidly, like a cat,
even in his evening clothes. In Austria, he did not care to offend by wearing
his Belgian uniform, and arrived at the hotel in his dinner jacket.

           
“How good to see you, Xavier, and thank you again for agreeing to meet with us.
Please allow me to introduce my good friend and colleague, Mister David Kelly,
lately of Ireland. Would you care for an Irish whisky; I’m afraid it’s all
we’re drinking nowadays.”

           
“Perfect, I’d love one. Mister Kelly, I understand you are from Ulster. And now
you and James are supposedly writing a book about my brother in-law, is that
right?”

           
“Yes, exactly.”

“Well, I shan’t ask about that; perhaps you
could send me a copy when it comes out in print,” he said with a laugh.

“Of course we’ve formally requested an
interview with the Archduke and your sister, but we’ve received no reply from
Schönbrunn,” Wilkins added. “I understand Charles is a very private person and
has no wish to make a splash before his ascension to the throne.”

“You can hardly blame him,” said Xavier. “Just
consider what happened to his predecessor.”

“Where have you been serving, Xavier?” asked
Wilkins.

“My brother Sixtus and I have been with the
French Army in Champagne.”

“It sounds as good a place as one could wish,”
said Gresham.

 “Indeed, it’s quite lovely. Things got
fairly hot for a few weeks in the autumn, but otherwise we’ve simply been doing
a great deal of drinking. It is Champagne, after all. James, you look like
you’ve seen some action yourself. Whereabouts?”

“I was at Suvla Bay.”

“Oh, I see, yes. I’m very sorry to hear it.
Have you heard anything about the evacuation of the peninsula? It’s all come
out in the past few days, you know, about the evacuation that was ordered by
General Monro. Most everyone should be taken off by now.”

“It’s been about three months since I left
myself, so I can’t speak to that. I am still recuperating in Egypt, or so my
regiment believes.”

Xavier laughed. “You don’t look too badly off.
And I can certainly understand why you would use an alias to enter Austria,
James. Not many British officers come to Austria nowadays. On the other hand, I
frankly have some misgivings about assisting you without knowing your true
intentions. Why have you two come to Vienna?”

“Our intentions are entirely peaceful, I give
you my word of honor as a gentleman,” said Wilkins. “I speak for myself and for
Mister Kelly. We are here only to preach peace, Xavier, and it is our sincere
hope that Mister Kelly will be able to convey that message to the Archduke in
person.”

“You see,” added Gresham, “you and James are
not the only ones familiar with the war. I’ve seen battles just as you have,
and James agrees with me that it will take a true leader to bring about an end
to the war.”

“And you think Charles will fill that role? I
daresay you are thinking of another Archduke.”