Page 28 of Hell to Pay
“Why didn’t we hear the sirens? Will Mother know? Will?—”
“The sirens are electric. The fire has taken out the electricity. No time to waste now. Keep your right hand on the wall as we go. Twenty paces across, and now we turn left with the wall, all the way to the door.”
“I don’t see a door,” I said.
“Here,” Father said, and crouched down. I followed suit, training my light on the huge blocks of stone. “Under this one, one up from the bottom. Feel for it, and press.”
I did, and felt something give. “Press on these two stonesnow,” Father said. “Put your back into it.” And the stones swung inward.
Father called out, “It is I, Anton von Sachsen.”
A man’s voice, then, as calm as Father’s. “We’re over here, near the cistern. The electric light has stopped working.”
“Don’t use your flashlight,” Father said. “Save it.” He shoved the block door back into place and walked toward the voice. I couldn’t see anything beyond the beam of his flashlight, so I merely followed his back.
I saw a child first. It was so unexpected, I blinked. A boy of perhaps eight or nine, with a pale face and a shock of dark hair. He put a hand over his eyes, and I realized I was blinding him with my light and swung it sideways.
It found a girl. Same pale face, same dark hair, maybe twelve years old. She was sitting with her back against a low stone wall, and next to her were trouser-clad legs. I moved the beam of my flashlight and saw him.
“Herr Dr. Becker,” I said, “isn’t it?” I knew him well, for he’d treated our family since I could remember.
“Princess Marguerite,” he said.“Guten Abend.”
Father said, “No time to waste. We’re under bombing attack, and the palace is on fire. There’s a firestorm building outside, and—” As he spoke, the stones vibrated around us. “And they’re bombing us again,” he went on. “A second wave. Quickly—I’ve been summoned to the Gestapo in the morning, but my wife and Marguerite, now, know where you are. No telling what this fire will do. Perhaps offer a chance to escape, for there will surely be many more refugees after this, and fire burns important documents, after all, requiring their replacement in some distant neighborhood where you’ve fled for safety. You must wait to leave, though, until the bombing stops.”
“Thank you,” Dr. Becker said.
“How will they get out, though?” I asked. “Without beingseen?” Dr. Becker was Jewish. That must be why he and his—children?—were here.
“There’s another way out,” Father said. The explosions were louder now, the very ceiling seeming to shake. “A tunnel. Herr Dr. Becker knows the secrets of it. Quickly, now, let me show this to you.” He walked around to the other side of the—cistern? An enormous circular thing, from what I could see, much larger than an ordinary well. There was a pipe coming down into it.
Oh. That was why it was smoky in here, too. Father coughed and said, “No help for the smoke, I fear. You must move into the outer room, Dr. Becker, or it may overcome you. And here, Marguerite. The second stone from the bottom, as before. It is difficult to find, as there’s no marking, so you must feel underneath for the catch. Go on.”
I didn’t ask why this time. My urgency was too great for that. The smoke was like a physical being, weighing on my lungs, and Father was coughing again. All I wanted was to get to safety with him, so I began pressing at the bottom of the stones. Ten seconds. Twenty. Thirty, and Father was coughing constantly now, his silk handkerchief pressed to his mouth.
At last I found it. Aclick,as before, but that was all. Father said, “Now you can pull the stone out. See, there are indentations at the side to allow you to grasp it.”
I did as he said, and set the heavy stone on the floor beside the cistern. Father said, “Reach inside.”
There were four worn purple velvet pouches inside: two small and two large. I knew exactly what they were. Mother’s parure.
“I thought the jewels were all sent to Königstein,” I said.
“Your mother wanted to keep these close,” Father said. “One never knows, in war. Close it up again now.” As I did, he said, “If things should go badly tonight or in the days ahead, if your mother and I are not with you, you must run as soon asyou get the chance. Take the parure and go. Tell the officials that you lost your documents in the fire, but don’t destroy yourKennkarte.You may need it later to reclaim your birthright, but your name is too dangerous now. Hide it under the insole of your shoe or sewn inside your clothes.”
“Alone?” I quaked at the thought. “Where would I go, though? To Königstein, maybe? That’s the strongest place.”
“No!” he said. “Not east, and not north. The Russians are coming—in a week or a month, who knows—and they won’t be kind. If I’m not with you, you must leave quickly and stay ahead of them. Go west. The British are in the north, and you are, after all, a relation of their King, but it’s likely to be too far and too difficult to reach, and who knows what welcome you’ll receive? Go west and south instead, where the Americans are advancing. Give a false name, tell nobody your true identity, and hide the parure. Take this now—” He pulled a notecase from his pocket and shoved the contents into my hand—“and sell the jewels if you must.”
He was all but shouting now between fits of coughing, because the explosions had increased even as the smoke thickened.
“You must leave, Your Majesty,” Dr. Becker said. “You and the princess must go back to your shelter while you can.”
“I’m going,” my father said, “but Marguerite isn’t.”
“What?”I said. “Father—you can’t?—”
“Listen to me,” he said sternly as my entire mind screamed out the need to leave now,now,while we could still get back through the palace. “You will stay here tonight.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the enormous key. “Take this and come with me.” He dipped his handkerchief into the cistern to wet it, then told Dr. Becker, “You and the children must go now to the outer room. It’s not safe here.”
