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Authors: Tionne Rogers

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Unsure, I took the stairs down and stood at the bottom of the stairwell, not knowing what to do or where to go.

Fortunately, Friederich in “civilian” clothes, a dark brown tweed jacket and matching trousers and an aristocratic
expression, came out of nowhere and told me to go to the library as the Duke was already with Pavicevic and
Antonov. He must have taken pity on my lost expression because he led me through the long corridor, passing the big
living room, the ballroom and dining room, toward the library, a room with large windows overlooking the garden
and the snow. Lintorff was sitting behind his desk and the other two men standing in front of him. One was a huge
blond, with a baby face and contagious smile.

“Come over here, Guntram. This is Alexei Gregorevich Antonov and he will take care of you. Obey him
in everything. He received medical training in the Red Army as your health is so poor at the moment. He will be with
you on a permanent basis and will be staying in the rooms next to yours.”

“How do you do, Mr. Antonov?” I said, gulping at the thought that the giant, well jailer would be with
me all the time. There's no chance I can outrun him and speak with Constantin.

“Hello Guntram. I'm pleased to meet you.”

“Antonov will stay here while I speak with him. You can go now with Pavicevic and Friederich,
Guntram,” he dismissed me.

“Thank you… Konrad,” I added in haste after he looked at me with certain fury for not using his name.

Lintorff’s short temper is well-known. It even reaches Russia.

The butler sat next to me in the big Audi and took me to the tailor's shop but it looked more like an
atelier. Friederich gave me in the car a small book and showed me the things I should look from the highway. Goran
and the driver were in front and silent the entire journey. I caught him inspecting me several times in the rear view
mirror. The shop was in an elegant building near the big lake and the train station. It had no front window at all, and
when you entered it was like an elegant flat. Friederich and an old man went with me into a private room and the
tailor only took measures from me as the butler was softly speaking with him in German. I have no idea of what they
said to each other but at some point he told me: “Guntram, do you want to take a walk around with Mr. Pavicevic?

Mr. Arendt has to organize the packages and it might take some time. It becomes very cold after sunset.”

“Yes, Friederich.”

Goran silently led me to a near stationary shop. Very elegant and full of expensive things. He simply
ordered me. “Get what you need for painting at home for a week or two. You will be staying in the castle till we
organize your activities.”

“What should I get?”

“Whatever you like. Pencils, paper, chalks or acrylics. I don't know.”

“An A4 ream and 12 colour pencils would be fine. I can use old newspapers,” I said, after meditating
and he growled at me, yes he did.

“Madam, could you give him a good set of pencils, over ninety colours, some sketch pads in different
sizes, charcoals, a set of graphite pencils. Do you prefer watercolours or acrylics? Friederich will kick you out of the
house if you bring oil paints in your first week.

“It's too…” His killer's look made me be quiet. “Watercolours,” I whispered.

“Add the proper kind of paper and brushes for that, too.” He finished the shopping under the woman's
big opened eyes. She looked for the things and made a big pile… ten different size pads? Does he plan to make me
paint the Sistine? Without looking at the final number, which must be really high because the pencils were Caran
d'Ache and it was a wood box set of one hundred twenty-four colours and the watercolours also, Goran signed the
receipt and took the three bags.

“Do you want a coffee? No, you can't have one. A tea or a chocolate then,” he asked me, surprising me
a little. He's not supposed to be nice to me. I'm his hostage or guarantor as they called me last night. “Friederich
might be busy for some time. He'll call me when he's finished.”

“I don't know.”

“Good, we go to Sprüngli. It's around the corner and all tourists love it. The cherry cake is good.”

I followed him meekly. I know better than to argue with one of them. He ordered me a tea and some
cherry cake. “Chocolate might be too much. Once the doctors clear you, you can have it.”

I took care of my cake and kept silent while he studied me. “You're truly quiet. Were you before like that
or is it because you're nervous to be here?”

“I don't talk much and hear less. Don't want to know what all of you are up to,” I replied and he
chuckled.

“Good idea when you're around Repin. You really didn't know who he was?”

“When I met him, he was the owner of a big oil conglomerate and several transport companies. I never
asked what he was doing as it's impolite to question people about money. He told me he had a foundation for helping
artists and likes art a lot. He didn't want me at the beginning because he said I was the type who wants to stay for
long. I don't know how, but I fell for him and when you're in love, you don't ask much. You just want people to be
perfect and he was for me. He was always very considerate to me and supported me much more than financially.

Sometimes, I think that the heart attack was more due to finding out who he was than because of the attack,” I
whispered and I still wonder why did I tell those things to a perfect stranger.

“Don't you love him any more?”

“That's none of your business!” I growled but he only looked at me. “I used to love him a lot, but now, I
don't know any longer. I dislike and hate his private ventures. How can he sell weapons that he knows are going to kill
women and children in Africa? What about those poppy seeds? And the prostitution? Lord, some of them even buy
children for that! But you're no better than them. Only look more legal and respectable. Happy now?” I said
contemptuously and he remained silent for some minutes, musing about something.

“Pavel, my brother used to think like that. He was a good pianist, but he was killed during the war in
1995. He never wanted to be in the Order and I respected his wish, although my uncle Mladic made an enormous
pressure to get him in. He was twelve years younger and I took care of him since he was thirteen when our father died
in an ambush against the Duke in 1989.”

“I'm sorry, I didn't want to hurt you.”

“You didn't. It's over. You two are so similar, not physically but in the way you think, your experiences
and how you act. You remind me of him a lot. The Croat tortured him and left him to die in the forest as revenge to me.

He was dead when I found him and I have prayed to God many times for a chance to redeem myself for his death. He
was a truly innocent boy and had nothing to do with my business.”

“It's horrible,” I whispered, feeling very sick but sad at the same time.

“There are no neutral grounds in this, Guntram. You have experienced it already. You were in love with
Repin, but his wife decided to get rid of you and you paid the consequences of his infidelity and lack of vision. It's true
that we have to deal with some people like Repin but it's not the norm. We get money from them, but the main
objective of the Order is to support its members in their legitimate business. We keep them under control and they
obey us. This is a safe place to live compared to other places in the world. Among us, you are safer than with Repin
even if you don't want to believe us. They're gangsters and we are not.”

“Forgive me if I can't tell the difference,” I smirked.

“We live under a code and we respect each other. None of us would go against a brother because the
punishment is terrible. What you suffered is unthinkable in our brotherhood.”

“Constantin told me that the Duke was almost deposed when Morozov went against him. He also told
me that four of his associates were murdered. My whole family was killed too.”

“Executed for treason, yes, not sadistically raped or forced you to choose your own execution method.

We don't cause pain unless it's necessary. Under our codes, your relationship with Repin would have been a private
matter and never be judged. Olga Fedorovna got help from Repin's associates because they wanted to weaken him.

She didn't act alone. You're a target for them, especially now that he's very weakened after the Duke attacked him
because of Morozov's little war. His execution only stopped that his Excellency would have gone one step further.

They're at a stalemate, recovering and bidding their times to attack each other again, Guntram.”

“Why do you tell me all this?” I said desperately. This is not my game at all!

“So you know the game. You're part of it now, whether you like it or not. You can't leave it, only choose a
side and pick your allies. I'm willing to help you and the Duke too. We took your side in the voting to take you in or
not, Guntram. Trust him, he has a lot of integrity and is a good friend to his friends, but you will have to earn his
trust, too. He considers you part of our circle—if not he wouldn't have said “ward” to refer to you—and our first rule
is no lies among us.”

“Why would he do that? He killed my family.”

“Your family, not your father. He committed suicide as he was very sick with cancer. I have his medical
reports from St. Sulpice hospital in Paris. The same type as your grandmother had. He saved the Duke's life by telling
Ferdinand von Kleist where to look for traitors. We found it out when we got his personal papers, hidden in a safe box
in Geneva. Your uncles sold the whole Order to some press reporters and attacked his Excellency. My own father died
in that ambush trying to save his life. It's an irony that the same people who took a part of my life, give it back now.

Our Lord's ways are unfathomable, Guntram.”

“Mr. Pavicevic, we leave now,” Friederich interrupted us with a very stern face and then, he said
something in German to him.

“I'm glad you share my view Mr. Elssäser,” Goran said very seriously and threw a fifty francs note over
the table.

Back in the Castle it was about dinner time and Lintorff ordered to have it in the small dinning room like
lunch. Again I had to sit at his left side while a butler served us.

“Did you like Zurich?” he asked casually.

“Yes, it's very beautiful, sir, I mean, Konrad.”

“Did you walk around?”

I pondered for a second about lying to him, but it seemed to be a bad idea. Probably the other would tell
him later. “No Konrad.” He seemed pleased that I had used his Christian name. “I had a coffee with Mr. Pavicevic.

He told me about his dead brother, that my family killed his father, that you had taken me into the “inner circle” and
would not lie to me.”

“I'm surprised that Goran has spoken so much. Must be his longest talk of the year. Normally, he only
tells a few words. He must be very fond of you.”

“Is it true?”

“What?”

“That you won't lie to me?”

“Yes, I have no reason to.”

“Did my father go against his own family?”

“He was against the ones who tried to depose me. Their ruling might had been much worse than mine.

He realised this and put Ferdinand on the right track. He never said a word against his family. We discovered it
thanks to him, but technically, he never informed me. In fact, he gave you to me as a way to atone for his deeds
against the Order and I took his offer because I didn't want the others to attack a small child. When I informed the
Council about my decision, I said that you were going to be my ward; therefore you were officially part of my line;
untouchable so to speak. Your father was many things but never a traitor.”

“What kind of a person was he?”

“I don't know. No one knows. He never spoke about anything, but worked fine as he was a brilliant
lawyer. Very stern, determined and serious. Lived almost like a monk and we could never find what he had done with
the money he was obviously earning at the bank. How he got it into Argentina for you is a mystery that he took to his
grave.”

“Why didn't he tell you where I was?”

“I don't know, perhaps he didn't trust me enough. After all, he didn't know me at all. We were never
friends. He was some sort of outcast by his own family as his father was furious when he rejected to marry a very rich
woman from Germany at about your age. I know she went after him after your mother passed away, but he dismissed
her once more, telling her he was already married. Many would have not resisted such an offer. He must have loved
your mother very much, a love that lasts to the grave.”

“I never knew her. Did you?”

“No, she was not from our circle and he never introduced her to any of us. Ferdinand knew your father
better than I. Strangely, you look more like his younger brother, Roger. Must be the Guttenberg Sachsen blood in you,
because Jerôme looked exactly like the Vicomte.”

“Could I have my photo album from Russia, please? It's the only thing I have left from my family, but
you don't want anything from there.”

BOOK: Into the Lion's Den
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