Blood Ties Read Free Page A

strikingly like Ingrid Bergman. He detested
himself for allowing the implication to exist.
    Seeing the castle loom above him, the Teutonic banner now
visible in sharp detail, clearly revealing the scepter and the shield, he began
to feel like a little boy again, the youngest, awed and dumbstruck in his
father's presence.
    He could be brave in New York, thousands of miles distant,
manipulating the family's worldwide interests with a sure touch, ruthless and
authoritative, although the legal and spiritual reins still rested in his
father's hands. Discovering his swift, agile mind had been his father's joy
after the indifferent, rebellious Siegfried and the plodding Rudi. Accepting
the mantle of the von Kassels' business interests was natural for Albert. He
reveled in it. He had gone to Harvard Business School after an engineering
degree at Yale. He could articulate a weapons system to a prospective buyer
with expert skill. Heads of state liked him. He had learned five languages,
although sometimes he cleverly omitted his knowledge, giving him the edge over
his adversary. All customers were adversaries.
    But taking the family business helm was one thing.
Accepting the caveat that only a von Kassel could share in the proceeds was, of
course, inhibiting. Not all von Kassels were efficient, the best around. His
cousin Frederick in Cairo was, in fact, a dangerous asshole. And Adolph in Hong Kong was, although brilliant, a voluptuary and a blatant homosexual. And the others,
in varying degrees, had their foibles. But they were, after all, von Kassels,
distant cousins actually, descendants of a great-great uncle who got out of Estonia with his skin years before his father. They were not, of course, in the main line
of succession.
    All this was acceptable. What Albert feared most was that
his father would entrust to him the spiritual enforcement of the von Kassel
legend, the geneological stewardship of the family. To his father this was a
mania, more important than wealth, than life itself. No matter of blood or
marriage could be decided individually by any von Kassel. A birth was not merely
a birth. It was an act of membership in the von Kassel club. With it came an
awesome power that he did not want. Yet one could not lead in business matters
without accepting that burden. If he was edgy, he had good reason to be. He did
not want to abdicate. Yet, in his heart, he knew he was unworthy to be crowned.
He shook himself, hoping the image would disappear. Dawn reacted to his sudden
movement, glancing at him.
    She had lit another cigarette, inhaling the smoke deeply,
flicking her long blonde hair further back from her face. They were approaching
the castle head-on now. The powerful Daimler motor strained as the road's
incline angled higher.
    "It's all so damned gothic," she said, the words
coming in a hiss of smoke
    "The old man summers here," he explained
patiently, knowing he had said it all before. "Says it regenerates him. It
was built by the Order."
    "Ancestor worship," she snapped.
    "Like the Jews."
    "We don't make lampshades.... "Her words trailed
off. "Sorry darling," she said, patting his hand.
    "We are Ostlanders," he said quietly. "There
is a difference."
    She settled back in the seat. He understood her uneasiness.
    To divert himself, he pressed a button and the glass that
separated them from Garth opened.
    "Who's here?" he asked in German.
    "Baron Rudi and the Baroness," he said slowly. In
Garth's world, all titles were necessary. "And the twins. The Countess von
Berghoff, of course. Baron Siegfried and the Baroness are driving from Paris. They might have arrived." He paused, a device meant to separate the classes in
the family structure. "The others are already arrived." Frederick from Cairo. Wilhelm from Zurich, Adolph from Hong Kong. He pictured their faces.
    "And the Russian woman," Garth said unexpectedly.
The words were flat, but he had obviously saved it for the last.
    "Who?"
    "The wife of your father's