A Queen Among Crows_Book One of Empire's End

by M. S. Linsenmayer

  I put my arm around Anna's shoulder and tried my best to guide her towards one of the less busy tables, the rather tasty smell coming from it gave me a clue what to expect. "Do you like fish, Anna?" The man wearing chef's whites standing behind the hot and cold-water table bowed to us, and began to pull the silver covers from his wares.

  "Fish?" Anna chimed "Well I have had canned fish, Miss, and sometimes, after a feast, they let us have some kitchen scraps, eel and the like. That doesn't look like any fish I ever have had."

  The chef looked offended for a minute, So I pulled back Anna's hair a bit, so he could see the green lines glowing on her veins. If at all possible, he stood even straighter - hah, not only were there soldiers here, the chefs were ex-soldiers as well, and probably armed in some way- and got out a hot plate from the steamer, clearly awaiting orders.

  I liked that in a man. "She is Anna Romanov" I said "newly come from Prussia... Please prepare her a plate of some selections of your best, not too rich, and for myself, some of that broiled trout and rice? And if it would cause no trouble, might we also have a plate of those mussels in garlic sauce for my birds? They do love them so, and we haven't been able to get good seafood in Prussia or France."

  Plates in hand, child in tow, we walked, skipped, and hopped our way over the to the red and gold stair- not mind you, the white gold stair, the blue stars and gold stair, or the gold gold and gold stair- and up to what I assume was the third floor. At least a dozen doors along the hallways waited us; I was a bit worried about having to knock on them all when one four or five down quickly opened and several lesser officers with their 'ladies' were rudely ejected. I recognized both the boot and the style, and with a few nods of apology to the ejected parties, made my way down there and into the now mostly empty balcony suite.

  Julie was indeed inside, slouched in a chair, her long legs propped up before her on the dark wooden railing. By her side, on a small table, was a plate with about half a haunch of roast on it, a large pot of mustard, and a bottle of some clear liqueur. I guided Anna, Ilona and James in first, then went in myself, closing the door behind Lois and me. There were four chairs left, so we had room, although we would have to use one to put the plates on I thought.

  "I am surprised" I said to Julie, settling myself.

  "That I love mustard?" A bronze eyebrow crept up.

  "That you did not keep the girls when you evicted the officers. They were not captains, admirals, or generals, I trust." I tried a bite of my fish. Soft, almost creamy, with a wine sauce. Delicious.

  "No, junior lieutenants and captains- that is to say, real captains- lesser sons of nobility here for the evening to impress their dates with their wealth, power, and manly ways. Perhaps they will now impress them with wisdom in retreating from a battlefield sorely lost, instead. Or perhaps not." Julie grinned. "Besides, tonight I hunt more dangerous game."

  "Ballerinas?" I smirked. The rice was tasty, if a bit bland; behind me, I could hear Anna and the birds munching away happily. Well, I had fed the child, at least, even if the Russian Nostradamus seemed convinced I was going to get her killed.

  Rasputin bothered me. I did not study the sciences like Lois did, but I knew enough to understand some basics. If he was the real thing, I did not understand how any gift- which as far as I knew followed the laws of nature- could allow one to see through time. If he was fake, well, faking clairvoyance was easy enough, I had done it more than once myself, but how does one fake prophecy and still get it right enough for people to take note? There were few fools in Catherine's court, I suspected.

  "Side kicks." Julie said loudly.

  "Pardon?" I asked.

  "Your ballerina comment. I said the only thing dangerous about them was their side kicks, but you were not paying attention." Julie glared at me over her meat and mustard.

  "Sorry," I said, some sorry, "Rasputin. He has me wondering... Just how accurate is he, really, about the future? And how specific? Is it just riddles and poems, or does he get that concrete often, and has anyone kept track?"

  "Answer, about half, very, and he used to be able to answer a straight question with a straight answer. He seems to have to know what to look for, but yes, he claims to be able to see the past, present, and future... To the point that, when he was part of the court, Catherine's enemies would meet in pitch dark rooms just so Rasputin could not find them. That said, tracking how right or wrong he can be is difficult; seeing the future changes it, you understand. He once told Catherine not to go horse riding along a certain wooden path, her favorite, and when I searched it, I found two would be assassins hiding behind a hunter's blind with heavy rifles along it." Julie took an almost savage bite at that point. It was clear she did not like Rasputin one bit.

  "So" I dared "If he is so useful, why do you hate him so much?"

  "Because" and this was almost a snarl "The man has no wisdom, at all. He would tell people their greatest secrets, just blab them out in public, and then not understand at all why they were angry. He once told me over dinner that I would be a fool for a woman, and she would hurt me, but I would go back to her, and she would hurt me again. I told her the love of my life had been dead for many years at this point, and everyone knew the tale, and he was seeing the past again. He just answered 'yes' and started laughing. I would have killed him then and there if Catherine had let me."

  I would have gone on further, but there came a quiet rap at the door. I glanced at Julie, she nodded, and so I got up to get it. The man at the hallway was sparse, balding, with a short-trimmed beard and a very conservative black suit. "Ah yes, Herr X, we meet again. How can I help you?"

  "Please, simply call me Stolypin, it is what everyone does. Dame Julie, I shall have to borrow your date, I am afraid. My mistress wishes to meet her, I shall return her to you when she is done, you have my word. This way please." The man gestured down the hall, in the different direction from the stairs.

  I gathered up Lois, and with James hopping behind, headed off to follow. "Marshall Stolypin," I said "It has been suggested me that the young girl with me, Anna, should be introduced to the Empress Elizabeth. Do you know of any way that could be arraigned?"

  "Perhaps, but I believe my Mistress had some plans for the child, herself. May I ask who made this suggestion?"

  "Rasputin. He made a point of meeting me today. He believes the child would be in danger at the Princesses court.... as she would be but one of many there, and a target for politics, I understand. Does the Empress have any family living with her now?"

  "No, she does not, and I suspect I understand your meaning. I shall speak to my mistress, and if she allows it, make the arrangements. Now first, I regret, we must face the rain and cross this archway to the next building over." He held to door open for me.

  I pulled my jacket in close. "Why Marshall, where are we going?"

  "The museum of ancient antiquities. My mistress does so love the wonders of Egypt, she wishes to share them with you."

  #

  Paintings, engravings, drawings, sculptures, marble floors, amber walls, more Paintings, engravings, drawings, sculptures, marble floors, amber walls and more Paintings... The treasures of an empire become worth far less when there are simply so many that every wall for what seems like miles holds yet another dozen priceless artifacts. There must be millions, if not more. Walking as fast as the Marshall and I were, I could but get a glimpse, although Lois seemed pleased, darting her head back and forth like a wrist watch arrow as we passed each.

  Some feeling stopped me, and Lois stared at one in particular. "Marshall," I asked "That one there, the painting of a young girl in a blue dress, in style it does not match any other around it."

  "Yes." Answered Catherine's cool voice from around the corner " That is because it comes from your homeland. Eleanor, it is called, By The colonial master Frank W. Benson. It is a new addition, in a new colonial style, meant to show feeling more than detail. It was a spoil of some minor scuffle; the British seized it for some spurious reason and
my navy politely took it from them in turn. So, tell me, did your bird see it first, or did you?"

  How did she sneak up on me like that? I kept my voice as steady as possible. "It was the colors, they are far brighter."

  "And that" Catherine walked closer, gesturing with her hand to create some sort of witch light above us " Was not an answer. But then, I note you never do give answers."

  "My adviser" Catherine continued, nodding to Marshall Stolypin "Believes you are hear for much the same reason as most, eternal youth. My knight thinks the reason is deeper, that the injuries inflicted upon you by the British never healed and your life was ending, or perhaps no longer worth living. Tell me, are these correct?"

  " They certainly seem reasonable to me" I looked her straight in the eyes, as James quietly sidled around the hall edge.

  "But both are wrong. Of all the wealth in my hermitage, you cared only for the one stolen from your people. What I believe, Eryma, is what you want is a tool to do what you could not: destroy Britain, and free your homeland from their rule. And I, am no one's tool, not even yours."

  I gestured to the other wall, where paintings of fighting ships sailed midst clouds of cannon fire. "Yet, war is coming. Every day, your armies grow on the borders, as do theirs. Half the world now goes to feed, clothe, and arm those troops; all it would take to start a raging bonfire is but one wrong spark. I could be a very useful ally in the conflagration."

  "Yes, but do not mistake for a second that I will trust you, for you are far too arrogant for anyone to ever trust you. Follow me now to the Egypt room, I have a game for you to play before you leave. And do call off your bird, if you please, before I fry him for a pastry." Catherine turned her back on us and began walking to a set of bronze and gold metal doors.

  I looked at James. He shrugged. Right. Walking fast to catch up, I expected Catherine to get some sort of keys or perhaps Marshall Stolypin to jog ahead and open them for us, but instead she made one of those witchy gestures again, and with a hiss of steam and the grinding of gears the heavy doors glided open on their own. A vault in a museum in a palace in a fortress? Well as they say there is no kill like over kill.

  Electric lights within crackled into place; this was no museum room, but a sterile white chamber with perhaps ten or twelve white porcelain and steel tables. On each were mummies, some wrapped, some partially unwrapped, some surgically opened. Catherine stopped in the center of the room, then spun around like a ballerina, hands raised to present her antiques.

  "One of these" Catherine breathed in an almost sexual manner "Is a fake. Do tell me which."

  "Well" I tried to buy time "I suppose I could begin with a materials analysis, or a..."

  Lois loudly coughed.

  "Yes, oh wise one?" I turned my head to look my bird in the beak.

  "Apologies, dear, your Highness, but perhaps we should start with the one still breathing." Lois sounded horrified.

  "Breathing?" I stared at the one in the corner. Then stared at Catherine " Oh gods, your Highness, what have you done?"

  "Shown you the stick, my servant" Catherine laughed like breaking glass. " Some sort of guarantee of rights for your homeland shall be your carrot, I think. The process that made you young and whole is not entirely stable, you understand. There is an.... antidote. A rare poison, that when taken, causes the process to reverse itself; the patient become old, so old, so quickly; and the machine will not heal them, it just stops them from dying. This man you see was once my lover, but he betrayed me, and now he is part of my collection, forever alive, forever dead."

  Catherine walked closer, and laid her hand on my cheek like a lover, before taking my chin in a grip inhumanly strong. "So, we understand each other at last. I did not conquer half the world by being a fool. You serve me now, and you may get what you want, if you serve me well when I take Britain at the last. But if you betray me, all it will take is one agent, one drop, one mistake, and you will join my collection. So much more effective than heads on a wall, don't you think?"

  I tried to nod. Lois and James held very quiet, very still.

  "Oh lovely." Catherine kissed me once on the lips, hers tingled like cold brushed steel. "We shall have all sorts of fun. Stolypin, be a dear, and do see her back to the theater, she has an early flight tomorrow aboard my flagship and must not be late."

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Na Na Na Rat Man

  Part Three

  Aboard the Zeppelin Louhi

  October 30th, 1908

  #

  Interlude:

  In 1843, under the command of Admiral (and later Count) Yevfimiy Vasilyevich Putyatin, the Russian Eastern Navy sailed to Nagasaki, Japan, with orders to open the island up to exclusive Russian Imperial trade. While initially impressed with the size and power of the Russian Naval power, the Tokugawa government in power at that time was hesitant to sign any trade deals with a European power, being well aware that China and Korea were both little more than satraps at this point.

  Admiral Putyatin and Ambassador Karl Nesselrode tried to sweeten the deal at first with offers of gifts of immortality for the Japanese ruling family as well as technology for her people, but still the Japanese continued to draw out negotiations, while at the same time their own inventors and shipwrights, led by famed genius Tanaka Hisashige made surreptitious observations of the Russian Navy in order to try and reverse engineer it's technology.

  After growing visibly tired with the Japanese delays- the current argument was about the shape of the table the treaty would be signed at- Admiral Putyatin challenged the Japanese with a more direct confrontation; they would assemble their 'best soldiers' at Edo that summer, he would send for his, and the victor would make the decision.

  The Japanese, in order to limit the Russian advantage, insisted on it being a sword fight; to their surprise, Admiral Putyatin laughed then agreed. They sent their one hundred finest samurai; The Admiral sent to his flagship, the dreadnought Diana, for one. And whether it was due to sea sickness, the recent bad weather, or other factors, Dame Julie d’Aubigny showed up by all accounts quite intoxicated.

  One of the waiting samurai made an improper remark, at which point, Dam Julie drew her sword and killed them all. Several of the witnesses I spoke to personally claimed she started singing halfway through the battle. Opera, mostly. Another witness told me canon fire would have done less damage.

  Admiral Putyatin then implied the Russians had many more such soldiers; the Japanese signed the treaty the next day, agreeing to all terms the Russians asked for.

  In conclusion, Senators, they got their first, with more ships, better bribes, and a damn demon from hell as a champion. My mission never had a chance.

  Commodore Mathew Perry, address to the California Colonial Congress, January 3rd, 1851

  I would love to speak poetically of the brisk Russian air, the beauty of seeing the mighty airship soar down from the clouds like some vast god gliding down the rainbow bridge, and wax on about the crew dashing this way and that as we elegantly boarded. Sadly, it was five am, everything was still dark and drizzly, I had one hour of sleep, and far too much to drink the night before. My left eye was still cemented shut, my right was held open with a toothpick, and I had simply stacked James, Lois, their daughters, and what little luggage I had, all onto a cart and was trying my best not to run over anyone important.

  I hated mornings when I was young, and hate them all the more now.

  At last some Russian airman mikewhathisfacenameis toolongus torememberus got us all up the elevator lift, across the balcony, and into the craft hold itself, which despite being made of fine wood wobbled more than I would like to think an airship should. Which said something deep and philosophical about the nature of dreams and reality. Or it may just have been the weather; winter breezes and Russian rain cannot be good for airborne travel.

  The airman led me and my snoring luggage - and my birds did snore, which thought quite unfair- down several ramps, and into the undercarriage of the mighty ves
sel. The walls at this point turned simple blue painted wood, rather than the elegance on the flight deck, which rather reminded me of a mid-class hotel, with all the cabin doors and people moving their bags backs and forth.

  The airman finally came to the last cabin on the left, and opened the door for me, bowing me in. Right then, that was a clue. "Does Madame require anything? This vessel is a warship, not a luxury ship, so we have only the basics, but we will be serving breakfast in the officer's mess in about 40 minutes."

  I pushed my luggage of ravens in, and looked around. One small bed, a travel chest on the floor, a small round window on the outer wall, and a door leading to what I assumed was the wash room. Junior officer's quarters, indeed. Well I have berthed in much worse, even when I actually was a junior officer. At least this had no stack of snoring Cherokee warriors.

  "How long is the trip scheduled for?" I asked.

  "Fifteen hours is planned, with the weather, it may go to seventeen or even twenty, the navigator said." Airman whathisname answered me readily enough.

  "The unless you superiors need me, wake me in time for dinner." I walked in my room and closed the door. Time to push the birds over to the wall, ditch my boots and coat, take off my corset- oh that feels so good- ditch the pants and lie down for a good few hours’ sleep. Nothing was going to wake me now, nope, nothing at all.

  Lights off, window shade down, bathroom door opening... Wait, hunh? Dame Julie walked out, wearing a smile and that was it. Her hair was down and freshly washed, he body was just as athletic as I had been imagining; if not for her generous breasts and hips I might almost think her a man, what with her long legs, firm stomach, and muscles hard and defined as any marble cast god I had ever seen.