Read Online Vienna Blood by Frank Tallis - Free Book Online Page B

“All rise for the first steward of the Order Primal Fire.”
    The assembly stood up. Gustav von Triebenbach, wearing a ceremonial red cloak with ermine trim, entered the chamber. He was carrying an ornate staff, which he used to propel himself like a gondolier punting his boat. Von Triebenbach was followed by a liveried servant, whose right arm was linked through the left arm of an extraordinary companion—a man in his fifties, with a long unruly gray beard and an enormous, incongruously dark bushy mustache. He was wearing a rather shapeless velveteen flat cap, which would not have appeared out of place on the head of a Renaissance courtier. However, the most striking feature of his appearance were the lint bandages that had been wound around the top half of his head. Nothing of his face could be seen above the tip of his nose.
    As the three men walked to the front of the chamber, the congregation began to clap, and soon the enclosed vaulted space was reverberating with the noise of an enthusiastic reception.
    The liveried servant helped the bandaged man onto the wooden throne, but his progress was faltering: the sudden movement of his hands—plunged desperately into empty space—suggested a moment of anxious uncertainty. Eventually, however, he was able to lower himself between the volute chair arms, and the liveried servant bowed and withdrew.
    Von Triebenbach stood at the head of the chamber and lifted his right arm.
    “Heil und Sieg!”
    The company returned the gesture and repeated the battle cry.
    As the applause petered out, the men sat down, and silence soon prevailed. Von Triebenbach bowed and proclaimed, “O primal light, grant us thy consolation, consecrate our hearth, and purify our blood. Deliver us from the hindrances and snares of our enemies and clothe us with the armor of salvation.”
    The assembly responded with a softly spoken “Heil und Sieg.”
    Von Triebenbach raised his head.
    “Brethren … tonight, we are most fortunate.” The blazing torches made the repeated motif of griffins on Von Triebenbach's red cloak glimmer. “Among the societies who have sworn to preserve and protect our glorious heritage—our language, our art, our values—the name of Guido Karl Anton List has become familiar and much respected. He is to be counted among the great thinkers of our age. However, for the benefit of our most recent members, it is incumbent upon me to say a few words of introduction. … Most of you, I am sure, will have read our distinguished guest's masterpiece, Carnuntum— a novel of great power and elegance. It has been some fourteen years since the publication of this great work, which has played no small part in inspiring its many readers to rediscover, and take pride in, the legacy of our ancestors. It was Carnuntum that also brought its author to the attention of many politicians, who have since shown an enlightened interest in promoting traditional values. … Our distinguished guest has been responsible for the formation of two literary societies, the Free German Society for Literature and the Danubian Literary Society, both of which have provided a safe haven for many writers who would otherwise have found no platform for their work in a city obsessed with degenerate fashionable trivia. … Some of you here will remember with great affection, as I do, a wonderful performance—sponsored by the German League—of our distinguished guest's dramatic poem The Wala's Awakening , which was attended by an audience of over three thousand.” There was a low murmur of agreement. “Although our distinguished guest is recovering from a surgical operation—the outcome of which is still, sadly, very uncertain—he has generously agreed to address us this evening, for which we are truly grateful.” Turning to the man on the throne, Von Triebenbach proclaimed, “I, Gustav von Triebenbach, first steward of the Order Primal Fire, welcome you, our most honored guest, scholar, and skald.”
    The man