A Queen Among Crows: Book One of Empire's End Page 5

  – Dr. Albrecht Wilmath, Professor of Political science, University of New England, 1906.

  The knock at my chamber poor- at precisely ten minutes to five- came like an artillery shell; I could not help wondering if it was so hard because the castle's door were so think, or if the castle's doors were so thick because they used mammoths as serving persons, possibly well-dressed mammoths in shiny uniforms.

  I quickly patted down my evening attire, and checked my hair in the mirror- thank heavens Lois is skilled with combs and pins- before opening the door with some care. To my surprise, I saw not a person or a mammoth, but a solid wall of black linen, girded by golden braided epaulets, shiny brass buttons in two ruler straight lines, a crimson sash, and several medals clustered on the right.

  Looking up, I saw the shyly smiling face of Captain Alessandro; glancing down I saw even more of Captain Alessandro.... Quite a bit more. I must admit, I stared.

  "Ahem." Captain Alessandro seemed a bit embarrassed "I am to escort you to dinner, Madame."

  "Ah excellent" I took his arm, as Lois settled on my other shoulder "I am quite famished."

  "Well the Grand Duke lays an excellent table, although tending to traditional German dishes- he likes to make it clear the distance of his own court from that of Russia, or that matter, other lesser courts of the empire. I hope you like sausages. Roast sausage, brined sausage, sausage soup, pickled sausage, and sweet sausage pie for dessert." He led us down the hall, towards the great marble and oak stairs at the far end.

  "I never sausage a thing" I admitted.

  He stopped and stared.

  "My apologies, I lost my sense of humor sometime before the siege of Baltimore." I said.

  "Ah" he replied, nodding. "Wordplay. Yes, that is popular these days; but sadly, your English is my fourth language. If you wish, you may gesture your left hand, and I shall know when to laugh on cue."

  "Now Captain, I think you are sporting me."

  "Perhaps, perhaps. But in truth, I am no poet or great verbal wit." He said.

  "Ah, but what are you are you then," I asked "When not a soldier?"

  "Before my gift became clear, I had dreamed of being a painter. I still dabble. May I perhaps someday paint you?"

  "I would be honored.... As long as I don't have to wear those pants. Aren't they a bit.... Uncomfortable?" I motioned to them. They were almost obscenely tight, and transparently thin.

  "Yes, I do miss the short trousers of my youth. Very practical; but sadly, out of fashion, or so I am told. As a positive benefit, at least, people can tell I am not a Skoptsy. Or if anyone else is, for that matter." He seemed abashed "Eventually, as with all other shames in life, one gets used to it."

  "They are very fashionable, I admit. In my years in the service, we had no time for such things; all our uniforms were cheap, brown, mud stained, and meant to be worn big enough that after you were killed the next fool could have them. Mustard gas cares little for the lines of one's figure."

  "Yes, we have those outfits as well, Madame, but for tonight this is a very different battlefield. More elegant but still deadly. Although the Princess and Grand Duchess Catherine did command you sent on with all speed, my master the Grand Duke will test you first, to see where you might possibly fit into things for him. I was not always so tall, you know" He gestured to his more than seven feet in height.

  "I am not certain I understand the import of that." I said.

  "The miracle machine does not just give longer life and health; it enhances the person put into it. As a young man I was among the strongest rooks in Europe, as an immortal I have grown to become a living titan- there are no other rooks who can stand against me in single combat in the world that I am aware of. You, Madame, are already a queen of unknown powers; my master is cautious, far more so than his wife. Despite your service this day, should he believe you an enemy, you will not be allowed to head on to the heart of the Empire." He stopped before a pair of massive black wood doors, and was saluted by the guards at the sides.

  "One last thing." The Captain continued "My master requested and required that I give you this warning, and will wish an answer; when we enter, if you do so on my arm, he will see that you wish to be under his- and my- protection. If you enter the dining hall alone, he will comprehend you do not."

  "Thank you for your honesty Captain," I said "But in that case, I had best walk in alone."

  The main dining hall was elegant, with double high black iron wrought glass windows, delicate yellow wood walls, and small intimate white covered tables, placed diagonal to each other; set for four persons each, the double line paced along the hall meant there could be, at most, two hundred people in the room now staring at me.

  It only felt like 2,000 then.

  At the end of the hall, upon a raised dais, Grand Duke Karl, master of Northern Europe, sat beside an empty throne; one place left perhaps forever empty, for his absent wife, in her own capital city in Russia. Was it there as a reminder of his power, or his weakness? And was a full plate laid before it every night just in case she chose to attend?

  I would have put a tack on the seat, myself.

  To his left sat a young woman dressed in sapphire blue, who kept her eyes down and away from the floor show I had become; not a woman of power, then, merely the amusement of the hour.... And one seat beyond her, in his most stiff and proper military uniform, sat Grand Duke Aleksandr, Commander of the Imperial Fleet, and his eyes were direct enough. Which was two Grand Dukes, perhaps two more than any room should ever contain.

  I bowed to my royal host. He deigned to nod back.

  With a light cough, Dame Julie, dressed in a dark blue military long coat and those far too tight linen breeches, stood from her table just one step below the dais, and pulled a chair out for me; I could see another chair and place empty to her other side, this one obviously meant for a larger frame than most mortal men would need.

  Well, then, time for a cozy little dinner, by dusk and candlelight, with intrigue and assassinations to go with our canned delights and assignations. I should rethink that, it sounded wittier in the back of my mind before I brought it to the front of my mind.... Am I intimidated?

  Never.

  Head up straight, eyes front, walk directly to my place and ignore all the stares as I pass, and ignore even more the hands of the starers as the clutched their dining ware; honestly, to interrupt the soup course with a backstabbing, how rude. One should at least wait for the red meat course and the steak knives. So much more effective than butter knives and spoons.

  Dame Julie bowed again, and kissed my proffered hand with a bit more attention than was polite, before helping me to my chair. She shook herself all cat like and settled to my left; Captain Alessandro adjusted his larger than normal chair to take both spots across from us, and very slowly eased himself down into it. I had to wonder how many he broke every year, and if he be happier with something stronger- a solid block of granite, perhaps.

  I glanced at my plate. " So, it is not sausage soup?"

  "Drat, you were warned" Dame Julie said.

  "It seemed but fair. But considering the weather, I suspect it will be grilled potato soup today.... The Grand Duke likes a heartier start when it turns cold and rainy." Captain Alessandro replied.

  I chanced a sip.... Yes, garlic, potato, cream and.... "Cheddar cheese?"

  "Dreadfully British of us, I know" Dame Julie smirked, " But we cannot subsist entirely on the blood of innocent virgins, despite what the papers say. Not enough calories to keep a body warm in winter on that diet. Also, far too salty."

  "Long pig is best roasted with fruit or Ibarra, or so I have been told." I kept my face as straight as possible. "I am part Aztec after all."

  The poor captain coughed into his soup.

  Dame Julie only laughed.

  Steps at my back, perhaps it was the bread service, I turned.... No, not a servant, an older man, late 40s or 50s, still mortal, with a uniform jacket decorated with so many medals it was a miracl
e he did not fall over. Flanking him, two younger men, both with the same over styled mustaches; junior soldiers then, with their commander, or perhaps sons.

  "Madame, my apologies for intruding upon your meal, but I wonder If I might be allowed to speak with you for a minute?" The older man glanced at the Grand Duke as he said this. The Grand Duke looked at the Captain for a moment, saw what he wished there, then nodded.

  So the dance begins, I thought.

  "By all means, sir?" I said.

  "Colonel. Colonel Zardov, Imperial Light horse" He introduced himself.

  "An honor to meet you, Colonel, perhaps the servants can bring you a chair?"

  "I regret" he said, "This meeting is not that pleasant. Please allow me to explain; of the miracle machine, resources are scarce, and even on a good year at most twenty spots are available. Most are reserved for the rulers of the Empire and its allies, some are sold to the grandest bidder, and a few- a paltry few- every year are given to loyal soldiers as rewards for great service. I was promised one earlier, and my family was on its way to receive it, when we were informed our place, paid for, in decades of blood and pain, was to be given instead to an outsider. To you Madame, to you."

  "I see." I said " But can you not wait for next year? You are still in good health."

  "I gave it," his voice broke " To my wife. She has the consumption, you see. My family saved that grant for many years for such an emergency. Can you not stand aside?"

  "I am sorry for the pain of your family," the two young men stared at me with true hate, sons then, " But I have my own rock to bear."

  "I understand" He bowed " Please forgive me, but I have no choice then but to challenge you to a duel of honor. Would Madame prefer blades or pistols? I am considered a master at both, I should warn you. And would dawn be acceptable."

  "Dawn is fine. And do all three of you intend to keep challenging me until I am dead?"

  "They...." He sighed "Love their mother."

  "Then by all means, let us cut down on the unneeded deaths, and make it blades at dawn. Should be quite the show." I turned back to my soup.

  It was getting cold, after all.

  Grand Duke Karl barked something in German. Dame Julie rose, and gestured to me to do likewise.

  He spoke to her, she turned to me, and said " The Grand Duke noted you are scheduled to leave for Russia in three days with the zeppelin.... (more German) and commands you to his service while you are here."

  "But of course," I bowed again "how may I serve?"

  Other than roasted, that is, with or without chocolate.

  More German. I must learn that language.

  "These religious zealots have become a problem " Dame Julie said " And one my own people have not yet solved.... I am told of your power, so find them. Or the next challenge you face may come from my champion, not just my loyal soldiers."

  I glanced at Dame Julie. " He means you?"

  "No" Grand Duke Aleksandr said, standing, " He means me. Now do enjoy the soup"

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Pointy end goes where?

  Interlude:

  To:Count Kazimir, Collegiate assessor, Ministry of Medicine

  From:Kapitan Abram Ahkathov, commander, 6th harvest camp, Harbin

  Good sir, I have received your instructions as to increasing the volume of the harvest, and even aside from the humanitarian issues, I suspect volume is not our problem, it is quality.

  I have attached below my analysis of volume loss due to harvest speed, bottling error, and problems in refrigeration during transport, and if you will care to examine them, I believe you will see that we could achieve a seven percent gain in material production by solving the largest problem, i.e., time in refrigeration; either by developing a shorter transit route, a more direct rail line, improved refrigeration, or even a secondary refinement station here in China. My officers have taken the liberty of drawing up some possible proposals for the latter, if it you please you.

  Yours to command, Abram Ahkathov

  By my own hand, signed August 21st, 1908

  To:Kapitan Abram Ahkathov, commander, 6th harvest camp, Harbin

  From:Count Kazimir, Collegiate assessor, Ministry of Medicine

  Trains and factories are expensive. In China, lives are cheap, women most of all.

  Proceed as ordered.

  -Kazimir

  If this were a romance novel, I would wax with enthusiasm and verbal orgasms all about the glimmering dawn light coming through my castle window, with small song birds chirping small song bird chirps in some chirpy, chirp chirp way. Instead it is the crack of dawn, my birds are still snoring- I had them up all night running errands- and here I was, washed, dressed in my loose combat pants and simple white shirt, looking through my steamer chest for the sixth time, hoping that I had somehow missed my saber the previous five times.

  I was sure the Russians or the Germans would give me a proper fencing blade for this; after all, Grand Duke Karl wanted a show, not a vaudeville routine- but I wanted my saber. It has seen me through more battles than I care to count in my twenty plus years of combat service. My arm knew ever knick, every scrape, every spur like my own hand.... Or perhaps even better, As I noted a new hangnail on my pinkie, someday I really need to become elegant and refined like all the other women.

  Perhaps now I would have time.

  A quick rap at the door meant it was almost time for the show to begin.

  Well, it was not the good captain again, that was for sure. I opened the door- I so did miss spy holes- and pretended surprise to see Dame Julie, looking quite formal in her well-cut uniform, with one hand raised in front holding a small tea pot. The other was behind her back, holding a strange rolled parchment, containing, I trust, either secret plans for a rebel base or the good doctor Nobel's finest experimental powder. Well, a woman could dream, I suppose.

  "Dame Julie, come in, come in.... You certainly take up less room in the doorway than the good captain does." I motioned her in.

  "And the bedroom.... He does wish to tup you, you know." Dame Julie replied.

  "Well that is a.... Direct.... Way of putting things. Quite sublime and erotic. I do wonder, not that you do not know him much better, but surely he has access to much younger and prettier women than I."

  "Perhaps, but power is its own aphrodisiac; but beyond that, he has grown too large and strong for normal women to handle with any pleasure. The poor boy has become quite the stoic these passing years; I suggested he try oxen, but alas, it did not amuse him."

  I shut the door behind us, and took a few moments to think of a response- any response - other than 'what?'.

  "Moo?" I pointed at myself.

  Perhaps ' what?' would have been better.

  Dame Julie only grinned, then bowing, handed me the paper wrapped object with a flourish. My hand recognized the weight, and with a cry of joy " Ploinky!" I ripped off the paper to reveal my old blue leather sheathed saber.

  "Ploinky?" Dame Julie asked " You.... Named your sword, Ploinky?"

  "Well yes," I said " it's the sound he makes when he hits another piece of steel."

  Dame Julie took a moment to digest this verbal tidbit- ha, that is a point for me this time- before saying " There are also, in the hall, a small bag with what I believe will be the correct sizes of linen breeches, gaiters, socks, and fencing boots."

  "Thank you again, but these old marching clothes have been with me- wait- you failed to mention blouse, pants, jackets?"

  "Oh no, in Europe, one duels are fought with no upper clothes at all; one of our doctors some time ago had deduced that the number one cause of loss of life in such events was threads cut into the wounds, causing infection."

  I blinked. " Even the women?"

  "But of course," she grinned " It is half the spectacle. I almost lost a nipple to a lucky fool, once."

  "Please do not offer to show me the scar. Well, not that I have Ploinky, shall we be off?"

  " But of course. Your birds will not attend?"
Dame Julie asked.

  "Oh, let the poor dears sleep. They spent half the night searching the town for your Skoptsy, and the rest smuggling a Winston 30 odd six recoilless sniper rifle into the castle. Really, I do work them too hard some days." I led us out into the hall, closing the door again behind us as quietly as I could.

  "I cannot tell when you are serious or not, Ma Reine; I confess myself quite confused."

  "Then I have won that point as well." I said

  She leaned in close "You do know the colonel intends to kill you, do you not?"

  "Oh yes, that seems quite clear." I began to walk to the stairs

  .

  "So, you are so confident you can kill him, then?"

  "Not at all, I simply intend to pick him up bodily, spin a few times, and throw him through his own sons. I find beating a schlep with another schlep tends to prevent requests for repeat performances."

  "Ah. The light dawns, she said, enlightened. Just how strong are you, really?" she said, enlightened.

  "Not as strong as the Captain, I am certain, or as fast as you; but I can hold my own."

  "We shall see.... As will the Grand Duke Aleksandr, he will be watching as well." Dame Julie warned.

  "Yes, and what is he? He moves too heavy for a knight, but not nearly enough for a rook." I asked.

  "A Bishop, like his mother.... He is quite.... Charming." I began to think an evil grin was Dame Julie's default expression.

  "Lovely" I said. Well, time to ploink.

  #

  The Duel was to be held in the back gardens, apparently. Or at least that was the direction Dame Julie was leading me; for all I knew the Grand Duke had a special dueling salon, complete with easy to wash tiled floors, gutters for the blood, dangling hooks on chains, and a fine selection of ravenous wild apes to feed the losers to.