TS3 Chapter 17

 Chapter 17

Guntram de Lisle's diary 

January 16^th, 2016

I must be mad, crazy, looney or stupid because I'm still here; at Konrad's house. I can only say in my defense that tomorrow I'll move out... to the cottage, not to my flat. Why? Because the children can't bear the mere thought of me living more than a kilometer from them. 

Kurt and Kostya returned Friday afternoon and they were so happy to see me that I nearly cried when I saw them. Kostya cuddled himself against me and stayed there until bedtime and I had to stay with him until he fell asleep. On Saturday they didn't leave me a minute alone and clung to my neck. Klaus and Karl looked gloomy and I asked them why, assuming that they were jealous of their younger brothers. 

“You'll be going away now that they're back,” Karl said. “Like always.” 

That was a stab right on the centre of my chest but I've given him cause to think like that. 

“We aren't stupid.” Klaus told me. “You want to divorce and go away. If you do that, it's logical to think that you'll take Kurt and Kostya away. We've seen that happening at school many times before.” 

“Don't come with that shit of telling us that you love us or spoiling us with gifts because it's all shit.” Karl said and I was speechless. I mean, I couldn't even tell them off for the foul language. 

“But I do love you,” I said and that sounded lame even up to me. “Your father and I don't get along at all.” 

“Guntram, you're being selfish.” Klaus said. “I know you've been sick for a long time, but this is your chance to do the right thing. Don't have children if you don't want to look after them.” 

I froze like a hamster after hearing his words. I know children can be very hurtful when they're angry but they had never said anything like that to me before. I was the person they sought for comfort each time they had trouble. I remained there, in the garden, not knowing what to do. 

Konrad came by later and saw me like that. “I assume you had a row with our teenagers. Wait until you try to impose a curfew or remove the playstation.” 

“They hate me,” I said softly.

“Teenagers hate the world,” Konrad shrugged. 

“No, I caused them a lot of sorrow and now they don't trust me.” 

“It's hard to trust in you. For a child, I mean.” 

I glared at him but he shrugged again and took Kostya in his arms. The child clung immediately to his neck. “I might be an ogre but they know that the ogre will always be there for them. You can be like Santa Claus but if you vanish overnight, don't bother to come back. That's how it is with children.” 

“Maybe I should leave for once and for all,” I whispered with so much bad luck that Kurt, who was a good twenty meters away busy with his robot, heard me. 

Kurt came towards me very fast and glared at me. “We don't move again!” he howled. “Shit!” he added and kicked me on the shin with a lot of force, only to run away like a madman. I rose to my feet but Konrad grabbed me by the arm and forced me to sit again on the wooden bench. 

“He hit me!” I protested. 

“And said “shit” too. Talk to his brothers later. They shouldn't be teaching such words to the small ones.” He said laconically. Kostya was looking at me with his big eyes and seemed to be very afraid. I forced myself to calm down. 

“They're against moving out.” I said more to myself than to Konrad. 

“Move to the cottage if my presence is such a burden to you. Be a little more brave and tell the Arab to stop pushing you to move in with him. There are four young men in line to get your attention before him. I'm told that the leaking pipes are fixed now.” 

I glared at him again but to no avail. 

“Elementary Watson,” Konrad mocked me. “Before you move in with your next husband, check where are you going to put the children from the previous marriage. Did you ask these young gentlemen if they like the Arab or if they're willing to give up pork? Kurt is crazy about Schweinbraten with apples and he hates lamb. Did you even ask yourself how are they going to be received by this man's family?”

“They won't even come to my funeral.” I said gloomily. “It's in their Holy Book. I'll tell Dieter to pack my things and move them to the cottage.” 

“Good. I'll see you at dinner.” He left and I spent the rest of the afternoon with Kostya, tormented by my desire to start a new life and my duty towards all of my boys. 

After tea time, which was peaceful as I decided not to start a fight over the boys' earlier behavior, Goran came to the house. He said nothing to me. Only spoke in Russian with Kostya and taught him the piano. My baby was very happy with him. Kurt kissed Goran and ran away to make his older brothers’ lives miserable in his quest to steal their video games or hack their phones and steal their passwords. I don't know where he learned that but I think Youtube has something to do with it. 

At seven, Birgitte took Kostya away for his bath. 

“You look better now.” Goran told me. “Are you moving back to the flat?” 

“No. I'm staying here, at the cottage.” I replied dryly. It's none of his business. 

“Good. The neighbour upstairs moved away and I bought the flat. The children can stay there as there are no more hookers around.” 

I could have said that I live in Madame Bijou's former flat but it's useless to argue with him. “The boys need a garden, not a flat. We're staying here.” I told him instead. 

“Maybe you're finally coming back to your senses.” 

“Probably not if I'm talking to you.” I answered back very irked at his patronizing, racist tone. Altair has done nothing but being kind to me and he starts a crusade? What's next? He yells Deus vult? 

“Don't worry Summus Marescalus, I'll fix your problems with di Mattei and Gorgazali.” We both glared at each other but he didn't back down. Of course he wouldn't back down. 

“Get rid of the Arab.” Goran told me. “Our patience is at its end.” 

“Do you have the nerve to threaten me?” My fury was beginning to boil. One “Arab” saved my life. 

“You're insulting our Code. This is too much. It won't be tolerated for much longer. You're a prince of our Church, not a hustler. End it because war is coming sooner than you think. You've seen it and we have not even started to return the blows. There will be no place for traitors and no place to hide once it starts.” 

Goran turned around and went away. I needed to sit in the music room for a long time. It went dark and I didn't notice it. 

“It's only us tonight. The boys have a birthday party and will return at eleven.” Konrad shook me back to reality. “First disco experience for them.” 

“I'd appreciate that you keep your hounds lashed.” I told Konrad. 

“Trouble with Goran?” he asked as if he knew nothing of the matter. 

“Your council think that threatening me is the best way to stop my relationship with Altair.” 

“Guntram, you know how Goran is,” he shrugged as if it were nothing at all. 

“He just called me a traitor and told me that I’m in his target list if I don't come back to my senses. He hinted about war in Europe.” 

Konrad sighed and sat next to me. “It will come to that. Civil war, probably deportations if we are lucky enough as to do it the civil way, killings, all what he already saw in the former Yugoslavia. We're one or two terrorist attacks away from chaos.”

“That's your solution? Raiding ghettos? Where did I hear that before?” I told him. “So what? Let's hunt the Muslim? Most of them are nice and peaceful people.” 

“The silent majority is who's most hated by the European lower classes. They never say anything, harbor terrorists and take jobs and benefits away from the Europeans who happen to allot the bill. I wouldn't like to be Muslim in Europe in the next ten years. The backlash will be swift and violent. People are silent at the moment because they're afraid of being labelled as racists or something else, but that fear is dying away fast. At some point, you'll see mosques burning down.”

“This isn't what I want for my children.” I said. “Our own people are promoting it. I want them out of this madness.” 

“Guntram, from what I've been told, you weren't exactly Gandhi when it came to deal with the Marseilles situation. Didn't you send the Serbs on an urban guerrilla warfare training course or something like this?” 

“Those were identified targets.” I seethed. “Not innocent people. We had almost no collateral damages. You're speaking of a civil war. Massive killings.” 

“You seem to think that we are responsible for this, but we are not. There are hundreds or thousands of small groups ready to attack. Do you think that we can burn down an average of two refugee homes per day in Germany? It isn't us. There's no control over the population and I doubt the armed forces will act against European civilians if clashes erupt in a larger scale. The idea that Islam isn't compatible with our values is setting down with the population. The “let's be nice” times are over since the Cologne attacks.” 

“May I remind you that there will be soon a Muslim Mayor in London?” 

“May I remind you about the Brexit campaign? May I remind you about Marie Le Pen's poll numbers? The True Democrats in Sweden or Geert Wilders in the Netherlands? Guntram, you're not stupid not to see it. Goran gave you a good advise. This is a war that had been raging for a thousand years and we didn't invade Spain or burnt down Constantinople.” 

“But your precious Tony Blair and Bush invaded Iraq. All this shit started there. Friederich agreed with me on that.” 

“Don't you think that we have enough trouble all by ourselves to start arguing about international affairs?” He looked royally pissed off with my views. Here, you have to loathe Muslims if you want to make friends. Constantin wasn't wrong when he was calling all the Order's troops “crazy crusaders”. 

“Your international affairs are what drive me away from Europe. I don't want my children to grow up surrounded by hatred.” I was quite irked with him. 

“Do you want to run away from your own land? Very well, Guntram. Your ancestors will be very proud of you.” Konrad told me coldly. 

“I'm not a coward and you know that.” He was really crossing the line this time.

“No, you are not.” Konrad punctuated every word. “You're just in denial of your situation. It's understandable, considering that you suffered a great shock and were about to die twice in less than two years. You only need to calm down and study your options. You've been plunged into an emotional whirlwind but now that you are here and the winds are blowing softer, you start to see how mistaken you were. You're only upset with us because we remind you of your poor judgement and you don't know how to get out of the mess you created by your own lack of... principles and beliefs.” 

I would have punched him on the face. He really deserved it. He kills my father and then lectures me? 

So I did it. As hard as I could. 

“You fucker!” I yelled at him and saw the small trail of blood coming from his mouth. 

“Welcome home, Guntram.” He told me calmly as he wiped the blood with his handkerchief. 

I went back to my bedroom. 

* * * 

January 17^th, 2016

I've been thinking a lot. The whole Sunday to be precise. I went to Mass and to confession with Pater Bruno. I spoke very long with him and the only thing I got out was that I was a miscarried sheep and should find my place in the world just as God said. The funny thing is that I couldn't say that what I did with Constantin or with Altair was a sin -technically it is- because I felt no remorse or was going to make amends. There, Pater Bruno stroke back and told me that I should think mostly in my performance as parent because I was being selfish, irresponsible, only thinking on my desires and so on. 

“Friederich would be so ashamed of you.” Pater Bruno told me. “Putting your own well being before the mental wellness of your children. That's not what he taught you. Luke 17:2. Being a Christian means to sacrifice yourself for the sake of the helpless.”

Pater Bruno mentally destroyed me. I was a true mess after I left the chapel. I went to the cottage and stayed there as I meditated and read the Bible.

In a way, I deserve to have that millstone tied to my neck and being pushed into the waters for hurting my little ones. For taking them away from the Christian faith. 

Yes, I have no illusions: Once I move in with Altair, our visits to the Church will diminish. I don't know if he would stop praying but his concept of  what is impure collides with mine. 

More important; Will my boys like him? No, they'd probably hate him because they have lost their brothers because of our love. 

It's very obvious that they don't want to move out or be split from their brothers. 

It's obvious that I can't stand Konrad or any of the other cronies. 

I love Altair. 

I told the motherfucker in chief that I was flying to London on Monday. 

“What do you have to do in London?” Konrad asked me. 

“None of your business or the Order's.” 

“Are you fit to fly?” 

“Yes, thank you.” 

“Why don't you use the phone or Skype?” 

Lord, Konrad can be so dense and insidious. I need to speak with Altair, face to face, not texting him something or changing my Facebook status. 

“Because some things must be said in person.” I barked and he didn't care. In fact, I punched him in the face and it was like a mosquito bite for him. No way in hell I will apologize for that. That was a well deserved punch. 

“Bring toffees for the boys. Those from Harvey Nicks. They like them a lot. It will cheer them up.” 

“Order them by internet.”

“Kostya loved some chocolate and pear macarons I had at my office.” He continued to speak without paying any attention to me. 

“Do you want chocolates too?” I was furious. The nerve of him. 

“No. How about those almond and butter biscuits? St. Claude had some last time I was there. Smuggle them well, not that the cook sees them. He's worse than a jealous lover.” 

I would have smashed his big head but I need a baby sitter for Monday and Tuesday.