Pegasus: A Novel (25 page)

And when the boys got up and found Nick, he stirred, and they saw the look in his
eyes. He hadn’t looked that way since he told them they had to leave Germany, and
they knew something terrible had happened.

“What’s wrong?” Toby said immediately. Maybe they were going to have to leave the
circus and they were losing their home again. Lucas was scared too. The telegram was
folded and put away in Nick’s pocket so the boys wouldn’t see it. He wanted to tell
them himself.

“It’s Opa,” Nick said sadly. “He got very sick, with pneumonia.” He took a breath
before he dropped the bomb. They were waiting. “He died yesterday. I got a telegram
from Alex last night when we got home.” Both boys burst into tears, and Nick pulled
them into his arms. The three of them cried all morning, and then they went for a
long walk together, and after that they went back to the trailer. When they got there,
Joe Herlihy was waiting for them, to express his sympathy, with a personal letter
of condolence from John Ringling North, and Nick was very touched. He stayed for a
few minutes and then left, not wanting to intrude on them in their grief.

Nick and the boys were heartbroken as they talked about his father all day. Christianna
didn’t want to disturb them, and she left them alone and told her family what had
happened. News had already traveled around several families in the circus, and Gallina
and Sergei paid them a condolence visit that afternoon too.

Christianna’s sisters-in-law prepared them a big casserole, and Christianna dropped
it off that evening, and was going to leave quickly. But Nick asked her to stay and
have dinner with them. She could see how sad they all were. It upset Nick even more
knowing that he couldn’t go to his father’s funeral, but he was sure that Alex would
have him buried properly in the cemetery on the estate, with a mass said in the chapel.
It was agony not being there for something as important as this. And he knew exactly
why this had happened. He and the boys had been banished from Germany, and it had
killed his father. And at that exact moment, Nick knew that he would never go back.
He didn’t say it to anyone, but now he was certain that he had come to America to
stay. The door to his past had just closed behind him forever.

As Nick had hoped he would, Alex arranged for Paul’s burial in the family cemetery,
attended the mass for him in the chapel on the estate, and ordered the headstone to
mark his grave. He and Marianne were bereft at the loss.

And two weeks later, there was a flurry of activity in the village. Alex was working
in the stables, cleaning stalls, when one of the young boys who helped him came running
in, red-faced and excited. Alex turned to see what had happened. He had been solemn
and depressed since Paul died, and he could only imagine how Nick must feel, after
receiving the telegram. Alex had written him a letter immediately after, expressing
all he felt, and his deep sympathy for his friend. He assured him that Paul’s absence
would be sorely felt by them all, and that he and Marianne were heartbroken as well.

“They’re taking the von Bingen schloss!” the boy shouted across the stable, as Alex
looked at him in confusion.

“Who is? Taking it where?” What he had said made no sense.

“The soldiers. A colonel, I think, or a general. They came in a big
car and they’re moving in.” What he said chilled Alex to the bone, and he felt a rage
rise up in him, like a tidal wave of bile.

“What do you mean?” Alex’s eyes were blazing.

“There are a lot of soldiers there with boxes, and big cars, and officers. The schloss
is open, and someone told me that they are taking it over. It will be headquarters
for the area now, and the officers will live there.” Alex wanted to kill someone as
he strode out of the stables without comment and marched across the courtyard to his
own home. Marianne was out visiting a woman who had just given birth on one of the
farms, to bring her some food for her other children, and see how she was. The thought
of them taking over Nick’s home, two weeks after Paul died, was more than Alex could
bear. He put on his most dignified suit, combed his hair, got in his Mercedes, and
drove over to Nick’s schloss. And just as the boy had said, there were cars outside,
trucks in the courtyard, boxes everywhere, two dozen soldiers, and a colonel in charge,
shouting directions. Alex took a breath and looked calmer than he was, as he walked
over to where the colonel was standing. Alex looked at him with a pleasant smile.

“Welcome to the neighborhood,” Alex said as he extended a hand to the colonel, and
noticed with a pain in his stomach that there were two flags with swastikas flying
from the colonel’s car, and two lieutenants were standing at his side.

“And you are?” The colonel eyed him coldly, seemingly unimpressed.

“Alex von Hemmerle. Schloss Altenberg. Five kilometers from here.” He pointed vaguely
in the right direction. “I see that you’re visiting Count von Bingen,” Alex said,
trying to keep as much sarcasm as possible out of his tone, and barely succeeding.

“Count von Bingen is dead,” the colonel said bluntly. “Two weeks ago. We are taking
over the schloss for the army.”

“I was referring to his son, Count Nicolas von Bingen,” Alex said innocently. “I assume
he’ll be inheriting the title and the estate from his father.”

“I regret to inform you,” the colonel said with an icy stare, “the late count was
married to a Jewish woman, and ‘Count Nicolas,’ his son, fled a year ago as a Jew,
as I’m sure you know. Jews can no longer inherit or own land in Germany. This schloss
now belongs to the Third Reich. I have claimed it in the name of our Fuehrer, Adolf
Hitler.” His salute could have sliced an iceberg, and stopped just shy of his hat,
and then his right arm shot out in the familiar salute that turned Alex’s stomach.
Alex did not return the salute, and as a civilian, he wasn’t obliged to, although
some zealots did.

“I see,” Alex said with surprise. “I didn’t know. They kept it very quiet.” He feigned
ignorance, and the colonel nodded.

“Understandably. I’m told you have very handsome stables,” he said with a pointed
look at Alex, “and some very fine horses.” So he knew exactly who Alex was, and it
was only a matter of time before he paid them a visit, and possibly took whatever
he wanted. Including the schloss, if he chose to. The army had license to do whatever
they wished.

“Thank you for the compliment. I hope you will pay me a visit now that you’re so close
by.” Alex executed a formal bow, and clicked his heels in the style of German aristocrats,
not soldiers. It was as respectful as the colonel’s salute, and far more elegant,
and reminded the colonel of just how noble Alex was, which was his intention.

“Thank you, Count. I will visit you soon,” the colonel assured him, and then he disappeared
through the front door of Nick’s home, followed by a trail of officers and soldiers.
Alex looked after him and
wanted to burst into tears or scream. It was the most horrifying sight he had ever
seen. And it would be the next piece of bad news he would have to share with Nick,
to tell him that his elegant home, inhabited by six centuries of his ancestors, had
been commandeered by the Third Reich, and was now being lived in by officers and soldiers.
With any luck, when the Reich fell one day, if it did, it would be returned to Nick.
But God only knew when that might be or what they would do to it in the meantime.
Alex was shaking like a leaf as he drove home, parked his car, strode into his own
schloss, and slammed the door. Marianne could hear him from the library, where she
had returned to warm her hands by the fire, and she knew from the sound of the front
door that something bad had happened. She hurried out of the library to see her father
cross the landing. He had murder in his eyes.

“What’s wrong, Papa?” she asked, frightened. He lowered his voice to answer her. He
trusted no one now. There were people everywhere, longing to become puppets of the
Reich, and spy on people they had known or worked for all their life.

“The army just took over Nick’s house. They’re moving in. I want you to go nowhere
now. You do not leave this house without me. Do you understand?” he said to her harshly.
“There are soldiers everywhere, and it will get worse. They could come here, and even
move in with us. I don’t want them anywhere near you. You do
not
leave this house!” he said again, and she could see that he was shaking with fear
and rage. The fear was for her, and the rage against a government that had violated
everything he held dear, including his best friend and his home.

“How can they just move in?” she said with a look of amazement, as they walked back
into the library and her father closed the door behind them.

“I do not want you speaking to anyone. Make no comment. Say nothing. We can no longer
know who to trust or who will betray us even in our own home.” It was a reign of fear
and larceny. The country had been taken over by boors, who were prepared to take anything
they wanted. “I think the colonel is after our horses.” And worse than that, Alex
was terrified that one of them, or several of them, would be after her. She was eighteen
years old and a beauty, soon to be nineteen, and he was afraid for her. He had a strong
sense that these men would stop at nothing.

He realized now that there were several things he had to do. One of them was write
to Nick, to tell him what had happened. And the other was to write to his old friend
Lord Beaulieu in England. They had gone to school together thirty years before, and
had remained close friends for many years. Nick knew him well too. Like the English,
he pronounced his name “Byew-lee,” not as the French did. But Alex realized now that
he needed his help. He could not keep Marianne in Germany for long.

The letter he wrote to Nick that afternoon was one of the hardest he’d ever had to
write, other than the telegram about his father. And Alex also knew that he had to
word it carefully, lest he arouse the suspicions of the censors. But a letter to America
might not be of great interest, and rather than using Nick’s full name as he normally
did, he addressed it to Nick Bing, in the hope that an uneducated censor reading it
wouldn’t make the connection. And he would try to make it sound like a fortuitous
event, rather than the disaster both he and Nick would consider it to be.

Because of the delicacy of it, it took him a long time to write the letter. He explained
that he was sure that Nick would be pleased to know that the old schloss near his
own had been put to good use. Due to the departure of its once-rightful owner, and
a recent death,
it had now been taken over by the Third Reich and the army, and officers and soldiers
would be living in the house, and had already moved in. Alex said that it would finally
add life to the area and the right spirit, and he was sure that Nick would be pleased
to hear such good news. He could only imagine the horror on Nick’s face when he read
it, but there was nothing he could do. He thought he should know. He added only one
cryptic line to cheer him. “All of that could change one day, and surely will, if
the family returns, but for now it is very happy news.” There was nothing happy about
it.

And after Alex had shared other minor news with him, he began his letter to Charles
Beaulieu, which was equally hard to write, and the routing of it was complicated too.
He wrote it enclosed in another letter, to a mutual school friend of theirs in New
York, and asked him to send the letter on to Charles. Alex was almost certain that
he couldn’t get a letter from Germany to England now that they were at war. It would
be a great deal easier from the States, and Alex could only pray that the letter would
arrive. He apologized to his old friend Beaulieu for asking such a large favor, but
he had no one else he could ask. He took both letters to the post office that afternoon,
and hoped that they would reach their destinations, particularly the one to Charles.
And then he went home and sat by the fire with Marianne, and tried to reassure her.
It had been a distressing day for them both, and one thing Alex was certain of now,
it was only going to get worse. And he didn’t tell her so, but he wanted his daughter
out of Germany before it did. It was in Charles Beaulieu’s hands.

Alex’s letter to Nick arrived and he understood it perfectly although Alex had billed
it as “good news,” which they both knew it was not. Nick fully comprehended that the
Third Reich had taken over his estate, and his father was dead, which he already knew
from the telegram. And since Nick no longer existed civilly, only as a Jew with no
right to own property in Germany, according to the Reich, the estate and the schloss
were up for grabs, and now theirs. He no longer owned his own land or anything in
Germany. He was not only displaced, but penniless as well, with no inheritance. All
he had was his title and his name. He was less upset than he had been when his father
died, but he was shocked nonetheless. And he also understood Alex’s cryptic reference
that if the Reich fell, if they lost the war, his land would revert to him again.
But who knew if that would happen, or when? He could no longer count on anything,
except himself. And like Christianna and her family, the circus was Alex’s life. He
had been disinherited by Adolf Hitler. After six centuries of his family in the same
place, he was now without a country or a home. In barely more than a year, he had
lost everything,
including his father. It was hard to imagine. All he had left of the past were his
boys.

He told Christianna about it later that day, and she was shocked.

“Can they just do that? Take your house that way and move in?”

“Apparently they can,” Nick said with a bitter, angry look. “I have virtually nothing,
even in Germany now. I have nothing to go back to, and I never will. I never want
to go back to Germany again.” He looked as though he meant it, and she felt sorry
for him.