“Oh! I almost forgot.” Senta blurted out suddenly. “Guess what Miss Dechantagne was doing.”
Senta began relating her observations and adventures of earlier in the day to Graham, who let his still partially full mouth fall open in shock. As she was finishing, she turned and looked at two children, standing and watching her. They were a boy and a girl, about the same age as Graham and herself. The boy wore grey pants and a white shirt, the girl a grey dress. Both were barefoot. The girl had black, wavy hair hanging past her shoulders. The boy’s hair was also black and wavy, but covered only the top of his head, as he was close-shaven around his ears. The facial features of the two were so alike that they seemed male and female versions of the same person, which was almost magical to Senta who had never seen twins before.
“You are the drachemädchen,” said the girl.
“Huh?”
“You are the drache girl.”
“Dragon,” offered Graham, then to the newcomers. “Yep, she’s the dragon girl.”
“I’m Senta Bly and this is Graham Dokkins.”
“Mein name ist Hero,” said the girl. “Und dies ist mein bruder, Hertzal.”
“Too bad for you two,” said Graham.
“Oh, like Graham is such a wonderful name,” said Senta.
“Hey. My Ma says Graham is a name with class. Are you zeets?”
“Be nice Graham.”
“I am nice,” he said, then addressed Hero. “Is ‘zeet’ a bad word?”
Hero shrugged.
“You are zeets though, right?”
“We are Zaeri.”
Graham nodded then tucked back in to the last bit of his supper. Senta looked at the dark-haired children.
“Did you eat already?”
“Yes. We eat,” said Hero.
“Do you want to sit down?”
The siblings looked at each other, and then both sat down cross-legged.
“Where ist your drache?” asked Hero.
“Dragon. Drag Uhn,” corrected Graham, tossing aside his now empty plate.
“Where ist your drag uhn?”
Senta laughed at the girl’s exaggerated emphasis on the second syllable. “He’s back in our room.”
“Did you guys see the baby dinosaurs?” wondered Graham.
“No,” said Hero. “You show us?”
“Does your brother ever talk?” asked Senta.
“In our village, soldaten come. They drag our mutter into die street und shoot her. We have to leave. Later, when we get on die ship, more soldaten come und shoot our pater. Now we live with our schwester und now mein bruder, he does not speak.”
“That’s bloody awful,” said Graham, standing up. He put his fists on his hips. “Well, you don’t have to worry here. We’ll make sure nobody messes with you. Senta is a real live sorceress, and I’m… well, I’m the jammiest guy there is.”
“How do you figure you’re so jammy?” wondered Senta.
“Remember that time I found that dead crab?”
“Yeah.”
“And did you see how short the queue always is whenever I go to get my supper?”
“Okay.”
“Well, there you go. Jammy.”
The three still seated children stood up next to “jammy” Graham. He still held his powerful pose and stuck his chin out as if daring anyone who should come along to even so much as hint that he wasn’t the cock of the walk. The twins looked around. With the sun completely behind the bay and the distant western shore, it was beginning to get dark quickly.
“Can we still see die baby dinosaurs?” asked Hero. “It gets dark now.”
“They’ve got gas lanterns over by the pen,” explained Senta. “Find me a stick or something we could use. Graham produced a two foot long piece of a branch and hefted it up as though he were presenting the sword of King Magnus himself. Senta accepted it.
“Uuthanum,” she said, touching the tip of her index finger to the end of the stick.
The stick began to glow as though it was on fire, but it was unconsumed by flame. The magical light created an area of illumination twenty feet in diameter. Both the twins showed their amazement with wide eyes.
“How long will that last?” asked Graham.
“Just long enough for us to get over to the dinosaur pen,” replied Senta.
The evocation was as good as Senta’s word, for it faded away, and the stick became an ordinary stick again, just as the four children reached the pen. Darkness was now falling for real and Saba Colbshallow was lighting the four gas lanterns attached to posts along one end of the enclosure.
“Hey kids,” he said, though he was scarcely more than a kid himself.
“Hey Saba,” said Graham.
“How come you make die light?” asked Hero.
“It’s getting dark.”
“She means why keep a light by the dinosaurs,” Graham clarified.
“People like to come over after they finish their work for the day,” Saba explained. “Of course all they want to do is watch the dinosaurs or maybe feed them. Nobody ever offers to muck out the pen. Mr. Korlann has to assign people to do it. That’s what I spent the last couple of hours doing. You wouldn’t believe how much poo five dinosaurs can make.”
By the time the young man finished his explanation, the children were no longer listening to him. One of the baby iguanodons had walked over and stuck his face through the fence. All four pushed forward to stroke the creature’s shoebox sized head and sinewy neck.
“Watch out,” warned Saba. “He hasn’t bitten anybody yet, but I bet that beak could take off a finger or two.”
The children were heedless of the advice, as children so often are. The truth of the matter was that of the one hundred ninety-five children who had arrived in the colony from Greater Brechalon, thirty-seven had missing digits, hands, or in some cases whole arms. The great age of industrialization and machinery that had taken over the country a century and a half earlier had brought the new hazard of the industrial accident. Almost all of the children old enough to walk had, at one time, worked in a factory. Factories were hazardous. Though the children from Freedonia had faced many hardships, some like the twins, hardships much worse than the loss of a finger, few had ever worked in a factory. Almost all could at least count to ten on their fingers.
“Do they have names?” wondered Senta, as she rubbed her hand along the yellowish green skin.
“We’ve been calling that armored one Sparky, but I don’t know if it suits him or not,” said Saba, and then he pointed to the iguanodon being petted by the twins. “I’m calling this one Stinky, I don’t care what anybody says. If you had scooped his poo, you would understand. The other one like him is Molly, mind you I don’t think anyone is sure which is a male and which is a female. The three with horns are Harriet, Rusty, and Meg.”
“They ist not biting,” said Hero.
“They’re good dinosaurs,” said Graham. “But if you see any others, be careful. Some of them will try to eat you.”
“Really?”
“Yup. Senta almost got eaten on the first day and there’s nothing left of our priest but one foot.”
Hero and her brother looked at Senta, who nodded in confirmation.
“What do you do vit die dinosaurs?” asked Hero.
Saba explained. “I don’t know about Stinky and his mate. Ride them, maybe. As for the other, Mr. Hollerith is already working on a harness and a little wagon to teach them how to pull things. When they’re grown, they’ll be bigger than a trolley car. Can you imagine seeing one pulling a wagon along a city street?”
“That will be smashing,” pronounced Graham. “I’m going to get a dinosaur of my own some day and ride all around.”
Chapter Eighteen: Zeah’s Proposal
Many people on the shore were watching as the two ships steamed out of the bay and no doubt many people had many different emotions flowing around within them at the sight. Some might have felt frightened with the realization that their la
st tenuous lifeline to the world of civilization was now severed. Some might have been excited that the challenge of taming the new world was now theirs and theirs alone to pursue. Zeah Korlann didn’t know what he felt. He didn’t have time to dwell upon any feelings however, he had plenty to do.
By the time the sun set that evening, he had accomplished quite a bit. He had arranged for new work details for the former Freedonians. Like the colonists who had arrived eight days before them, these individuals would be expected to provide six months of service to the colony. After that, they could purchase land and begin whatever lives they wished. That was the theory, anyway. He had also overseen the clearing of the first bit of forest outside the protective wall. The first shops and stores would be built here hopefully, when that six month period had ended. Zeah looked forward to visiting a bakery there. Inside the walls, they had finished constructing a large smokehouse. And finally, that afternoon, the colony’s first fishing boat had floated out into the bay.
Zeah had two stops to make after dinner and before he went back to his own apartment. The first was to the headquarters tent of Miss Dechantagne. He would have gone to report to her in any case, but he felt doubly obligated to stop because the Royal Colonial Governor was alone. Her brothers had left at first light the day before with one hundred eighty soldiers and accompanied by a half dozen reptilian aborigines. Their mission was to elevate one of the local chiefs to dominance, and at the same time show off modern Brech firepower—put the fear of God into the locals, let them know who was the boss. Nobody expected stone spear equipped lizardmen to be able to face the power of four platoons of riflemen, and both brothers had spent their time in the army. Still, it was a combat mission, and things could happen.
Knocking on the tent pole that served as a doorjamb, he was rewarded with a “Come in.”
Miss Dechantagne was not alone. Zeah’s daughter Yuah was in the tent. She was sitting in one of the folding chairs in front of Miss Dechantagne’s massive desk and Miss Dechantagne herself was sitting in the heavy oak swivel chair behind it. The two women were sipping cups of tea.
“Hello Papa,” said his daughter, standing up to kiss him on the cheek.
“Good evening. I didn’t expect to find you here.”
“We were just having tea,” said Miss Dechantagne. “Would you like some?”
Only Zeah’s carefully regulated composure allowed him to reply without stuttering. Miss Dechantagne inviting him to tea? The heat must have somehow addled her.
“No, thank you. I just wanted to check in and let you know that everything is on schedule.”
“I’m quite excited about the smokehouse, myself,” said Yuah. “Mrs. Colbshallow is already planning sausages.”
Zeah looked at his daughter with a raised eyebrow. It seemed that the governor was not the only one who had lost her mind. Yuah was sipping tea and making small talk with Miss Dechantagne.
“Thank you Zeah,” said the governor. “I’m pleased to see that our new arrivals are proving to be more of an asset than a hindrance.”
“Indeed.” Zeah stood for a moment
“You should go get some rest.”
“Very well. Good night.” He nodded to the women and stepped out the tent flap. The two women laughed. Zeah shook his head and walked off.
His second stop was to see Egeria Lusk. She had completely recovered from her wounds at the hands of an unknown attacker and had in fact, spent much of the day supervising work on the Result Mechanism, though she had left the actual pressing of buttons and throwing of switches to someone else. He knocked on the door of her apartment and again was asked to “come in” and again found two women sitting and sipping tea. This time it was Egeria and Sister Auni, the Kafirite cleric. Sister Auni rose as he entered.
“Good evening, Mr. Korlann,” she said. “I was just leaving.”
“No need to leave on my account.”
“No, no. We’ve had a lovely talk, but now I must get back to my own room.”
“Well, good night,” he said, as he held the door open for the clergywoman.
“I’m so glad you came by,” said Egeria, once Sister Auni had left. “Please sit down.”
“Thank you. What were you two talking about?”
“Oh, life, the universe, and everything.”
“And what was her take on it.”
“We were just chatting, really,” said Egeria. “I was sorry that we didn’t get to have supper together.”
“I didn’t really have time for supper today,” said Zeah. “I was hoping that you would join me tomorrow though.”
“I would be delighted,” she smiled.
Though he was quite as busy the next day as he had been the previous, Zeah had little thought for anything he was doing and much for that night’s supper. He took a fine haddock from the first load of fish brought in on the new fishing boat. Though Mrs. Colbshallow was not available, he found a Mrs. Finkler among the Freedonian immigrants, who by all accounts was a wonderful cook. He paid her two marks to prepare roasted fish. She proved to be as good as her reputation, and at the appointed time delivered not only two beautifully roasted fish fillets, but a large plate of potatoes, seasoned in a way that was completely new to former butler but was delicious, and roasted leeks covered in sweet butter.
Borrowing a small round table, Zeah covered it with a make-due tablecloth that was actually a short scrap of baby blue dress cloth lost from someone’s luggage. He pulled out a decorative bud vase, one of the few pieces of household glass that had survived since his wife’s death, filled it with water, and stuffed a handful of white wildflowers inside. He made this the centerpiece. Though it was far from the fancy porcelain that graced the Dechantagne table, it made his chipped plates and old silverware look very sad indeed. He was happy that at least he owned two nice chairs. They too had been purchased long ago by his wife.
A knock at the door announced Egeria’s presence and he hurried her in to sit down. Though she seemed completely recovered, he still treated her as though she was as fragile as the bud vase. He had yet to spend an entire night without his mind flashing to her lying on the floor of Miss Dechantagne’s tent covered in blood. On several occasions he had awakened from a nightmare version of those events.
“Well, you’ve outdone yourself, Mr. Korlann,” said Egeria, looking at the food. “You must have been cooking all day.”
“I… didn’t cook it.”
“I know, silly,” she laughed. “Even if cooking was one of your many talents, I doubt you would have prepared Potatoes Kasselburg.”
“Is that what they are?”
“Yes. I had them last time I was in Freedonia.”
“Last time?”
“Mm-hm. I’ve had to travel Kasselburg and Bangdorf several times.”
“I’ve never been to Freedonia,” mused Zeah. “I guess I’m not very well traveled.”
“Are you kidding? Look where we are. We’re in Birmisia, for heaven’s sake.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
The fish was excellent. All in all, Zeah thought the meal could have rivaled Mrs. Colbshallow’s cooking, maybe not Mrs. Colbshallow at her best, because at her best she was unrivaled, but Mrs. Colbshallow on an average day. He thought that he could become used to the Potatoes Kasselburg, sliced and baked and layered with cheese and pepper and some spices that he wasn’t familiar with. It was a more than satisfactory meal. They drank water with dinner, but near its end, Zeah uncorked a bottle of fine red wine.
“I was thinking,” said Egeria as she brought the red wine to her red lips. “The day after tomorrow would be the appropriate day to become engaged.”
“Why is that?” asked Zeah, not really realizing what she had said.
“You know. It’s the twentieth. It’s the traditional day of starting new tasks. It would be a fine time to become engaged.”
“Engaged in what?”
“Engaged to be married.”
“Muh… muh… married?”
&nbs
p; “It was good enough for the Bratihns.”
“I wonder… I wonder if Corporal Bratihn went off to fight alongside Master Terrence?”
“Don’t change the subject,” she said.
“I’m not trying to…”
“We don’t have to get married right away.”
“We don’t?”
“No. We can be engaged just as long as you like. We need to announce our engagement though so that all of the other men will know I’m taken.”
“Uh… Other men?”
“Many other men. They’re hovering around everywhere. They’re like bees.”
“Bees?”
“Yes. They’re like bees, and I’m the honey. I can see them just waiting to get their stingers into me.”
“We have to announce our engagement,” he said.
“You have to ask me to marry you first.”
“Will you…”
“Not now.”
“No?”
“No. You have to think up some very romantic way to propose marriage to me. You have two days.”
“The day after tomorrow.”
“Good,” she said. “Now that that’s out of the way, we can enjoy our wine.”
Zeah ran over this conversation in his head again and again the next day, and was never quite sure how exactly Egeria had maneuvered him into agreeing to ask her to marry him. He knew that jealousy had been the key, but who could blame him for being jealous. She was young and beautiful, and he was… well, him. He also knew that she was way too smart for him to outsmart her. She had said it herself. She was the most intelligent person in the colony. So after twenty-four hours he was forced to go from wondering how it had happened and how to fix it, to trying to think of a romantic way to propose.
On the morning of the twentieth of the month, he had still come up with nothing and he was forced to conclude that he was just not cut out for this sort of thing. He needed help, but from whom? There was only one person he knew who was both intelligent enough and romantic enough, but he dreaded bringing up the subject of his possible, or maybe it was his inevitable remarriage with Yuah.
He found his daughter, as so many people seemed to find others they were looking for now days, by the dinosaur pen. She was watching as one of the steamer trunk sized three-horned creatures was being fitted with a harness connected to a child’s wagon. The beast scarcely seemed to notice either the harness and wagon or the man attaching them to it. It continued to happily munch away at a pile of brush placed there for its benefit.
The Voyage of the Minotaur Page 27
