The Sun Is God (12 page)

“You didn't smuggle a goat in that trunk of yours did you?”

“It is a secret of the
Reichs Heer
,” Kessler said.

“A secret, eh?” Will said distractedly. On the other side of the “Augustburg” Fräulein Herzen had made an appearance in the doorway of her hut. She was carrying a chamber pot out into the jungle. In the fresh light of morning Will saw that his initial judgment had not been in error: she really was a beauty. Long-limbed, pale, bright of eye, everything the poets were always going on about.

“Pssst, Klaus, over there! By God, she's a Venus,” Will said, opening the hut door to get a better look.

Fräulein Herzen dumped her chamber pot in the jungle and walked back to her hut on tip toes.

“What legs, Klaus!”

Kessler shook his head. “One does not take advantage of a lady's distress,” he said with a sniff.

“Are you serious? There are three Sonnenorden lassies here and they're all going to be naked all the time. Where are you going to look, Klaus? At your boots? You might as well get used to it now.”

“I do not think it will be necessary to bring the ladies into this investigation.”

“You don't, do you? Dear oh dear. You are fortunate that you brought me into this. You really are lost on the moors, chum. Did you never read Dumas?
Il y a une femme dans toutes les affaires
, or words to that effect
.”

Kessler did not reply, focused as he was on sawing Will a piece of sausage. He gave him a hearty chunk and tossed it onto Will's plate.

There was a knock at the door.”May I come in gentlemen?” It was Miss Pullen-Burry.

“We are not decent!” Kessler yelled, rapidly buttoning his trousers.

Miss Pullen-Burry waited until Klaus gave the all clear before entering with a bundle of newspapers. She was wearing only a thin silk Japanese-style nightgown which did little to hide her modesty.

“What do you have there?” Will asked.

“I only wanted to give you some copies of the
Times
. Frau Forsayth kindly placed half a dozen numbers in my trunk. Fresh from England.”

“That's very good of you, Miss Pullen-Burry,” Will said.

“What is the news from England?” Kessler asked, picking up one of the neatly bundled papers.

“Mr. Campbell-Bannerman promises France our aid in the next European war,” Miss Pullen-Burry said with disapproval.

“Henry Campbell-Bannerman. You English have such extraordinary names,” Kessler said.

Will picked up one of the copies of the
Times
but the paper was almost incomprehensible to him. He'd been thinking in German and speaking German for so long now that English seemed an odd, imprecise, clipped tongue. He put down the paper and bit into the sausage, which was smoky, fatty, rich, and delicious. And it went very well with the coffee.

“Please join us, Miss Pullen-Burry,” Klaus said. “We have coffee.”

“Coffee? Well, perhaps, one cup.”

She sat at the writing desk and Kessler brought her a cup of coffee and a sausage.

“Just the coffee will be fine Hauptmann Kessler. I am going to attempt the ‘vegetarian' way of life for our time here on Kabakon.”

“I admire your enthusiasm,” Kessler said, taking back the sausage.

“One must always strive to seek new experiences,” Miss Pullen-Burry said, drinking the coffee. “Don't you agree Mr. Prior?”

“A quiet life is what I seek,” Will said.

“Herr Prior was in the South African war,” Kessler added by way of explanation.

“Indeed? A sad business. Englishmen and Dutchmen quareling so very far from home.”

“Quite.”

Miss Pullen-Burry sipped her coffee. “I once traveled to the land of the Mormons who drink neither alcohol nor tea nor coffee in their own ‘Augustburg' in Salt Lake City. Salt Lake City is a gloomily resonant name, is it not?” she asked.

“Where is that exactly?” Kessler asked.

“Utah. A thousand miles from the nearest city. Heterodox religion flourishes in extreme places. Deserts, mountains, islands. That is why August Engelhardt and his followers have come here, I'll be bound. Germany has become too civilized for such people. Company promotes understanding, but solitude is the school of genius, as Gibbon says.”

Neither man replied and Miss Pullen-Burry had the impression that she was becoming tiresome to the gentlemen. She knew that European men were not used to a woman holding forth on such topics. A young, beautiful lady could be forgiven, but not a plain, middle-aged spinster such as herself.

“Well, I shall leave you gentlemen to your toilet,” Miss Pullen-Burry said. “I believe the rest of the Sonnenorden are on their way and I must do my best to look presentable. Thank you very much for the coffee, Hauptman Kessler.”

“You are very welcome Miss Pullen-Burry.”

Will bowed from a recumbent position and Miss Pullen-Burry returned his bow and slipped outside.

Kessler picked up the pile of newspapers. “May I read one of your papers, Will?” Klaus asked, holding up the paper.

“Be my guest. Why don't you read to us while we eat.”

Kessler avoided the most controversial topics but read aloud births, deaths, and the court circular. A Canadian called Tommy Burns was the new heavyweight boxing champion of the world. The King had been ill. The—

“Hold on Klaus! Here they come,” Will said, pointing through the window that faced the jungle.

“Where?” Klaus asked, looking outside.

“Over there in the trees,” Will whispered.

Both of them stared through the window as first one and then all of the Sonnenorden marched through the forest and entered the piazza. There were nine or ten of them, and two, indeed, were female.

The men were naked, thin, bearded, tanned, covered in insect bites and scars from old insect bites. The two women also, of course, were naked, but they were both carrying parasols to protect themselves from the full glare of the sun, and to Will's eye, they didn't seem quite so thin or badly bitten. Relative newcomers to the island maybe, or not fully paid up members of the vegetarian covenant.

“I wonder which of them is the Countess Höhenzollern?” Kessler thought out loud.

As soon as the Germans were within the circle of dwellings, they knelt down in front of the totem pole—the Malagan—and began bowing like Mohammedans. “Christ, what are they up to? This is a rum show . . .”

The Malagan sufficiently worshipped, the Sonnenorden began dispersing to their tents.

“What do you make of that, Klaus?” Will asked. “Klaus?”

But Kessler had stopped watching the ceremony and was pulling on his full dress uniform.

As well as the Deutsches Heer bed Kessler had also brought a clever portable hanging stand to keep his kit wrinkle free, both his dress uniform and his slightly less formal Captain's garb. The dress uniform was dark blue with gold lace, piping, and a couple of medal ribbons.

Will watched Kessler struggle into his boots. “Do you need a hand?”

“How do they manage with only two servants in this wretched community! How am I supposed to put my . . .”

“Do you want me to help you?”

“Stop talking and get dressed. You English are always talking!”

Will dressed himself in a loose white cotton shirt and canvas trousers. He slipped on his wet plimsolls and with that was ready to go. Kessler was still fiddling with his brass buttons.

Will helped him with the top two and Kessler quickly strapped on an ornamental cavalry sabre which was heavy and blunt and would not be useful, Will thought, when the Sonnenorden really did come to assassinate them.

“Could you hold this up for me?” Kessler asked, giving Will his small hand mirror.

Will did so while Kessler checked the symmetry of his jacket. He was puffy and red and the whole effect had the air of a touring company of Gilbert and Sullivan.

“I wouldn't go out like that,” Will said.

“Why not?”

Will was going to say that he looked ridiculous, but he immediately reconsidered, as poor Klaus was the easily offended type. “Your boots could do with a wipe. Allow me,” he said. He grabbed a chamois from the top of Kessler's trunk and gave the boots a quick going over. “Perfect. Now you could greet the Queen of Sheba without any reservations.”

Kessler nodded, oddly moved. “Thank you, Will,” he said. “Now, come, let us introduce ourselves.”

Will grabbed his straw boater, which had something living perched on the brim.

“Gentlemen! The Sonnenorden are here!” Miss Pullen-Burry said, appearing in the doorway.

“So we see,” Will said.

“Ma'am,” Kessler said, hurrying past her into the piazza.

“He looks very smart today,” Miss Pullen-Burry remarked to Will.

“Dress uniform,” Will said, attempting to shake what was a small lizard from his hat.

“Typical of his type don't you find? The Germans in Herbertshöhe and indeed elsewhere are very keen on uniform. I have remarked on this before. The bakers have a uniform, fishermen have a uniform, grooms have a uniform. In England few tradesmen wear the same thing but Germans are different; they like to belong to things and take pride in this belonging. I suppose that's why the sight of a dozen naked Germans seems so particularly shocking.”

“Sorry, what?” Will said, finally getting the persistent little reptile out of his hat band.

“Nothing,” Miss Pullen-Burry said. “Come, we mustn't be late for the introductions.”

Will nodded, touched his thin mustache, and marched out into the piazza with Miss Pullen-Burry in pursuit.

10

THE SONNENORDEN

T
hunder rumbled in from the Bismarck Sea and it began to drizzle. Parrots and macaws screeched in the coconut trees.

“Guten morgen!” Kessler shouted heartily and waved.

All of the Sonnenorden turned. None of them seemed surprised to see the three strangers, which meant that Harry tipped them off, Will surmised.

A gaunt, long-haired blond man came striding across the pounded shingle with his hand held out. He had a curiously angled, intelligent face and a bright gleam in his eyes.

“Good day to you both, gentlemen, madam. I am August Engelhardt. Welcome to our humble island,” he announced in an elegant, slightly old-fashioned German.

“Captain Klaus Kessler of the King's Bavarian Guards,” Kessler said. The two men shook hands. “Allow me to introduce Miss Pullen-Burry, a traveler from England and guest of Emma Forsayth.”

“Charmed,” Engelhardt said with a little bow.

“Likewise,” Miss Pullen-Burry replied.

“And Mr. William Prior, from England,” Kessler added.

Will and Engelhardt shook hands. Will couldn't help but notice that apart from a touch of sunburn Engelhardt's penis was of normal appearance and about four inches long. Harry was an exception then, even among the immortals. A sunburn on the John Thomas couldn't be any fun. Will gave Engelhardt a sympathetic wince.

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Engelhardt said.

“Likewise,” Will answered.

“And how can I assist you, gentlemen?” Engelhardt asked eagerly.
Yes
, Will thought,
not
,
where have you come from
? Or
have you come to join us?
It bespoke foreknowledge. A tip off from Harry or Miss Herzen.

Kessler looked at Will, unsure how to proceed.

“Captain Kessler and myself have been asked by Governor Hahl to look into the death of Max Lutzow. Miss Pullen-Burry is here as Emma Forsayth's representative,” Will said.

“Oh? But Max died of malarial sickness.”

“Nevertheless, the Governor has asked us to look into his death. Perhaps you could introduce us to your comrades?” Will suggested.

Engelhardt laughed. “How rude of me! Of course, come this way Miss Pullen-Burry, gentlemen.”

Engelhardt stood between the two new arrivals and the rest of the Sonnenorden. The women, Will noticed, were doing that languid right-handed fly-swatting gesture so common in Herbertshöhe, but most of the men were letting the flies and mosquitoes land on them with resigned equanimity.

“May I present, Helena, the Countess Höhenzollern,” Engelhardt said, “Although here, of course, there are no titles.”

The countess came forward and bowed. She was the smaller of the two women. About forty or perhaps forty-five. A red head with long burgundy locks, pale skin, lovely round hips, and sea-green, dark, intelligent eyes. She was attractive with small breasts, and pert red lips, high cheekbones. The countess had mosquito welts on her back and legs but her face had avoided the insects' wrath. She was tanned, of course, as they all were.

Will, Miss Pullen-Burry, and Kessler were formally introduced and both men made their bow instead of shaking hands. Kessler said that it was an honor for him to meet someone from such a distinguished family. The Countess rather insolently gave no response.

“And may I also present Fräulein Anna Schwab from Hesse,” Engelhardt said. This young woman was dark-haired, pretty, thin as a rail, with tiny breasts. She was aged around twenty-five and had gorgeous indigo eyes, a few mosquito scars, and a lightly tanned oval face.

“Charmed,” Kessler said curtly.

“Delighted to meet you, miss. I haven't seen a young lady with such a, uh, delightful complexion since I left England,” Will said and got back a contemptuous curl of the lip, not at all what he'd been expecting.

The men were presented next. First up was a tall, blue-eyed man who looked unsettlingly like the late General Gordon. He was called August Bethman and said that he came from Berlin. He had an air of professional sincerity about him and they weren't surprised to discover that he had been a doctor before coming here. Will noted the big dick, big muscles, and big mustache, and Kessler made a note of his Prussian Junker accent. Bethman squeezed Miss Pullen-Burry's hand so hard that she actually winced.