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

by M. S. Linsenmayer

  I propped my arm on the writing desk, and balancing as best I could force myself upright. I reached for my robe front, and looked a hint at Julie. She simply smiled and boldly looked right back. So be it. I dropped my robe, and turned, with one hand on the wall, towards the bathroom door.

  Behind me Julie made a low groan. Ha! I finally found someone who likes a skinny colored woman, and I cannot keep her. There was irony in that. Some trick of the light stopped me as I passed the mirror... I was sixteen again, no twenty, those were a woman's breasts, although the ribs were clearly visible. The silver lines under my skin glimmered like polished chrome, much brighter and crisper than before. My scars were gone.

  My scars were gone.

  I almost started to weep. No, not here, not like this. I sniffed once, loudly, then pushed myself along, head held high. It was time to begin earning new ones.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Choux on the other foot

  Interlude:

  A small coffee house in Greece. Below, voices of patrons and the sounds of the street; above, a single almost dark room, with a desk, chair, typewriter, paper, a brass bell and a glass bowl of snacks. Perched upon the chair, a large male raven, David, one of Lois's oldest sons. He snored lightly, relaxing in the warm Mediterranean breeze.

  I whispered lightly, he shook his head and dreamed harder, dreams of honor and naval glory. He was a brilliant naval commander in these dreams, with a fast ship, loyal crew, and the adulations of his countrymen. Also, a six-limbed cat. And I thought my dreams were strange.

  I yelled in his ear, as loud as I could. He shook himself, grabbed onto his perch tightly, then cocked his head, waiting.

  At this distance my voice, even at its loudest, was almost unintelligible. Letters, not words, were what he heard. But it was enough.

  I spoke, and David typed.

  The bell was rung.

  Message sent.

  #

  "I look, I regret to say, like a puff pastry. Surely this cannot be the style of the court" I said to my reflection in the floor to ceiling mirror in the back of Madame Collette's Imperial Avenue Shoppe. Said reflection, dressed in a long, delicate, laced and multi teared confection of silk, satin, and three different colors of mesh brocade, nodded back. It was a fortune I had decided to forgo the chair and instead try and make do with a silver tipped walking stick. It was, I thought, both more stylish and practical, as it is hard to beat someone with a wheeled chair; but it had turned out a structural matter as well, as this dress would never have fit in a chair. I suspect it might not even fit in a zeppelin.

  "The Princess proposes, and we, her servants, must dispose. My own outfit for the evening will be as impractical, even if she does allow me the foible of wearing a uniform and not a ball gown." Julie lounged behind me in a French sofa -chair by the door. "Changing styles often both demonstrates her power and her wealth; furthermore, it tasks the resources of any possible rivals, as what is spent on silk cannot be spent on troops."

  "Oh, but this is all about the troops." Lois looked up from her newspaper.

  "How can this" I gestured at the confection "Be about troops? Unless you are suggesting it is bullet proof."

  "The style over emphasizes the hips, giving males in the room a protective instinct. The shoulders are bare, with a low décolletage, the same. It is a historical style, last worn during the conquests of Turkey and France, a reminder of past victories and a call to nationalism and patriotism. The sash worn with it is almost military in its cut. Be certain that whatever colors Princess Catherine wears will call back to the flags of Russia. She will -with discretion- wear her medals. I assume the young men, too young to be veterans themselves, will be allowed this evening to wear the medals of their fathers and grandfathers?"

  "Quite. I thought it was said you were but a simple bird." Julie watched Lois intently.

  "Shall I squawk? But no matter, you figured it all out a while ago. The conclusion then, is obvious; Princess Catherine expects war, and soon. It shall be a bloody mess." Lois went back to reading her paper.

  "But Miss Bird" Anna chimed in "Surely the Empire would win."

  "Your Empire, dear, has not fought a real conflict in over a generation; due to the issue of the colonial rebellions, the British troops are very experienced indeed. Furthermore, while outnumbered and outgunned on the continent, the British navy holds the Atlantic in an unbreakable grip. So, the British cannot stage any real attack; even an attempt up through Egypt or India would be suicide. At the same time, Any Russian attacks would face trying to cross the channel. This leads only to one of those ugly stalemates like they had in Brazil twenty years ago, where tens of thousands of men died just to gain one foot of land. A bloody mess, by definition."

  Julie stood up, and began to pace. "Breaking that equation is what the Zeppelin was built for."

  "While your airship is very impressive, Dame, it is but a single ship. You would need a fleet capable of flying higher than the British navy guns can fire and carrying a hundred thousand men, at least. With supplies and artillery. And landing those men without a clear space to do so, in hostile terrain, where every local boy and girl has a hunting rifle. But perhaps such a thing can be avoided, I have seen enough war in my first life, and have no desire to see it in my second. War, after all, is but a form of diplomacy; and for that, espionage is so much neater." Lois sighed.

  A knock at the door ended any further debate; Madame Collette, a short middle-aged French woman with a cheerful face and a smile that did not reach her eyes stuck her head in. " Is Madame pleased with this one? Or did she decide she would prefer the blue? I regret, to match her skin coloring, these are the best I can have ready by tonight. If Madame wishes to place an order for later, perhaps in a lemon muslin or something with ivory silk and gold needlework..."

  "Ah yes, Madame Collette, this will certainly do. Your taste is exquisite as always. Time of course is pressing; how long will the final alterations take?" Dame Julie asked.

  "A few hours, we shall have it ready to be picked up in time for late entrance to the event. If your guest would be so kind to hold for a few minutes, we shall take the final measurements, then she may step out of the gown and my assistants can begin their sewing. Under the circumstances, would it be possible to do something simpler for the child?" Madame Collette got out her measuring ropes.

  Julie looked at me, with a raised brow. Anna tried to hide behind my dress, there was enough of it, to hide a marine corps. "Simple but tasteful, if possible" I said "She is a child now, but she will be something more, in time."

  "I understand." Madame Collette looked at Anna carefully. "Do you wish to conceal her birthright, with perhaps long sleeves and a high neck? Or claim it? I have a lovely aqua green Charmeuse Satin just in from Paris, it would have to be very simple considering the time involved but quite suitable for a young unmarried girl."

  "Anna, what do you think?" I turned to look down at her. "The first may seem safer, but considering how much the Court probably gossips, people will know whom you are sooner or later."

  "Me?" Anna's eyes got very wide. Her head darted quickly this way and that, seeking answers..." Miss Bird, you are so wise, oh help, help me please."

  "Certainly, dear. Madame, the young lady will take the satin, please, and is it possible to fit her with a dinner jacket? With padded shoulders, perhaps, or a bit of fur? It is likely to get cold this evening." Lois said.

  "Of... Course. Miss Bird." If Madame Collette was confused by taking orders from a talking raven, she kept it well. "A jacket small enough it can still be worn at the table?"

  "Yes, please, but the padding is important." Lois looked at Julie and I with intent. " These two will be up to their necks in politics, I suspect, and someone must keep an eye on the poor thing. Oh James!"

  "Yes, dear." James sighed the sigh of the long married.

  " We are both going to be busy, and the girls are not quite old enough for this yet... Who else is nearby? I seem to have lost track of thi
ngs these last few days with my injuries."

  "Ilona is outside, riding herd on the local reserves." James said.

  "Oh Perfect, do send for her, please" I said.

  "Ilona?" Anna asked, her face glowing with sudden hope.

  "One of my eldest daughters, dear. She is old enough to help keep an eye on you, speaks Russian fluently, and is not too heavy for a young scrap like you to carry. Try not to take her sense of humor to seriously, she does tend to take after James in some ways." Lois answered.

  "At least it's not Laura." I said "I love her dearly, and try not to judge, but six boyfriends at the same time is a bit much. Now would someone please measure me, so I can take this off?"

  Madame Collette measured, my birds snickered, Anna giggled and hurried to help me out, and Dame Julie just sat and smiled at the view. If I was a better philosopher I could find some omen in all that, but all I could tell now was I was hungry again. Drat.

  #

  "Why are we stopping?" I asked Julie as she turned her borrowed staff auto mobile into a side street off the main avenue "This is not the way back to the palace."

  "Because, your stomach is growling louder than my car's engine." Julie expertly side parked the very large and armored vehicle, then with a loud creak, set the brakes. "If you care to step out and look to your left, you will see Cafe Le Chat, a very nice bistro, which serves sandwiches and several flavors of soup. I suggest the French onion, but then, I am French, and we believe all our food is better than any other. They bake it with a lovely mix of local and imported cheeses."

  "Can I safely assume you know all the French businesses in St Petersburg? " I forced open my heavy car door, and stuck the cane out first to test the ground. Above us, the winds whistled through the hundreds of black painted pipes and electrical cables arching from tower to tower over the street; the city of spiders, indeed. Between that and the tall densely packed buildings with overhanging brickwork I was starting to feel a bit claustrophobic. My birds seemed to love it, though.

  A flapping noise warned me, I raised my arm for Lois, while with a loud thump, James took to the roof of the car. The bistro was as Julie had said, clearly French, with baguettes and pastries displayed in the floor to ceiling windows, and employees in tight black corsets and starched white hats serving the half full dining room.

  "Well yes, largely because I own some of them." Julie grinned. "So, I can guarantee the service here. And the cheese. I do so love a good melted cheese. If your bird is correct, And the Princess is reminding her subjects of the motherland, then tonight's dinner will be traditional Russian fare. So, by all means, let us enjoy a lunch."

  "Lunch sounds lovely" Lois said " Anna dear, do get out of the car. You eat pastries, they do not eat you. And please stick out your arm, hold still, and hold onto your courage. Ilona wants to meet you, if she is to help you this evening."

  "Oh yes Miss Bird." Anna tried to stand as straight as her courage allowed. With a quiet flickering shadow, a smaller version of Lois landed on Anna's outstretched and quivering left arm; smaller, with brighter feathers, and two metal spikes sheathed over her back.

  "Why, hello, Ms. Anna. I am Ilona" Lois's daughter looked Anna up and down, craning her head around in circles. Anna tried to look back, but her head did not crane. "Now try not to be too scared this evening, I am with you, and I brought my swords just in case."

  "Swords?" Anna's voice cracked.

  "Yes, my swords." Ilona drew one to demonstrate" I know my father likes his beak and my mother her explosives, but I find most problems tend to go away when I stick a four-inch blade in their eye.... and if they do not, there is always the throat."

  "Oh dear. Uhm thank you, I think." Anna tried to say.

  "By all means, have a very nice lunch, ladies, while I sit out here and watch the car." James said.

  "But Faaaaather" One of the girls whined "We will be out here too."

  I looked at Julie.

  "Fine" She rolled her eyes. "Two tables, then. I suppose they will want the best pastry in the house?”

  "They will want it, but they probably should not have too much, as too much white bread ruins their digestion. They like whole grain, nuts, fresh fruit, cheeses, and cooked meats... An antipasto platter would be great for them, and they will love you forever." I looked at Anna "Ilona is a loan for the evening, but she is quite adult and more than ready to have a family of her own. If she decides to stay with you, it is her own choice, but do be aware part of your duties will be to help get food in the winter, and for any children she may someday have."

  "Yes, Miss. Thank you Miss." Anna looked shyly at Ilona " Lunch, Miss Bird?"

  "Why yes, thank you" Ilona opened her beak for a raven's grin.

  #

  The cafe had gotten very quiet when I walked in, Lois on my shoulder, James and the girls hopping behind. The man in the chef's hat started to come towards me to say something, saw Dame Julie was behind me, then stopped, turned, and came back with a large smile on his face and an armload of menus. The silence turned to the clinking of silver ware and the low sounds of gossip. I suspected we had just made everyone's afternoons. Well, I did live to please the public.

  They ended up pushing two small tables together and moving some chairs around to make a setting for seven; Julie at the front, Me at one side, Anna the other, and then the birds perched on stools around the side. The girls and Anna were quite thrilled, this was clearly a first for all of them. James was more stoic, he asked the waiter for the cheese list. In French.

  I settled, smiled at Julie, then started looking over the lunch menu. Sandwiches, pastries, baked meat pies, and some things I had never heard of. Not entirely a surprise, while I had eaten at restaurants before, my homeland was war scarred and still quite poor, with most of its wealth siphoned off to feed London and her Empire. The Russian capital, by comparison, was vastly better funded, with the resources and man power to waste on making food for its own beauty, not just to feed the hungry.

  I was not certain if I should feel sad or not, some day, when New Amsterdam was rebuilt, or Baltimore, would they have towering buildings and street level cafes? Fine foods from all around the world? Busy clean streets, museums, skilled artists and poets? Or would my home always be a place of poverty and desperation?

  "What do you think?" Julie asked me.

  I pointed at part of the menu " I was wondering what that is."

  "A wet pastry deep fried tart, stuffed with spinach, spices, and goat's cheese. Often served with olive oil, it is a bit salty, not sweet. A Greek specialty. It goes well with a light beverage, some citrus to refresh the palette, and the traditional very sweet honey and nut Greek pastry for dessert."

  "Oh, is that Baklava? I have heard of it but never tried it." I asked.

  "Yes, it is, shall I order... Oh hells, what now?" Julie was staring past us out the window. I looked, a line of monks, wearing deep hooded and from the appearance unwashed brown robes were marching single file across the street to us. Their hoods were up, their heads bowed, hands crossed in sleeves before them... No nothing suspicious about that, nothing at all. Probably just out for a pleasant stroll and forgot to wash their robes beforehand. Bad habit, that.

  "Skoptsy? Or rebels?" I asked, tensing. My weapons were back in Prussia someplace, with the rest of my luggage. I glanced at the table; the cheese knife was too dull, the butter knife too short... The serving fork might do in a pinch, I decided.

  "Worse." Julie moaned. " Khristovovery. And we were about to have a nice lunch."

  "Who are they?" The lead spectral figure had reached the door, and after a bit of confusion at the advanced technology known as a door handle, had figured out how to get in. I sniffed, then winced; they smelled even worse than they looked. The rest of the patrons pulled away from them. I did not blame them one whit.

  "Cultists. They serve a self-proclaimed prophet named Rasputin. He is, speaking frankly, insane." Julie stood up to face the incoming monkish horde, I did the same a moment after. The
lead monk stopped, and without removing his hood, bowed lightly to us.

  "The master" he-and it was definitely a he-intoned in a deep and almost singing voice "Has seen..."

  "Has seen..." His follower monks sang behind him.

  "Your presence here. You have been blessed" He was bit flat this time

  "...been blessed" so were the chorus.

  "To have been called... To him"

  "... To him...."

  I looked at Julie, seeking some clue. She held her head in some pain. So be it, I can play silly buggers too. I cleared my throat, and handed the lead monk my menu.

  "Here, please read" I sang "the specials..."

  "The specials..." James and the girls sang along

  "Today we serve..." I pitched my voice more falsetto "sliced monk..."

  "...Sliced monk..." Lois hit the high notes perfectly, while behind her James started oom poo umping out a deep basso counterpoint.

  "Chopped monk..."

  "Chopped monk" Ilona started beating out a drum rhythm with her blades on the wine glass.

  "And fried Monk" this was my crescendo "ala Romanov!"

  I stared at Anna

  She stared back, blinked, made an 'oh!' noise, grabbed her knife and fork, and then took on the most horrible look of closed eyed constipation I had ever seen on a human face, and I was at the battle of Milwaukee. After a moment, she grunted, and with a dry hot breeze, green lightning formed and crackled between her outstretched utensils.

  The lead monk puffed himself up to start something, and then realized his followers had taken a few long steps back. It was possible some of them had even reached the tobacconist next door. He deflated, took the menu, and sidled away a few feet himself.