Today and tomorrow I am at Phoenix Comicon! Watch this spot for pictures.
Merchant and Shannon are the owners of a steam ship line and a coal company and other things in Senta and the Steel Dragon. Hence they are at work in the background of the story, though the appear in The Drache Girl. Their names come from Moet and Chandon Champagne (like in the Queen song).
Two men dressed in expensive evening suits entered the lounge and made their way across the room to stand next to the former naval officer. Both were in their late fifties, the first with thinning grey hair and a thick black mustache. The second man was clean shaven, with jowls that shook when he talked, and had a thick pile of white hair.
“Two glasses of fortified white,” the first man ordered from the bartender. Then he turned back to his companion. “I’m telling you now Shannon, you won’t be sorry you came and you won’t be sorry we brought our crew with us. There’s no time to waste.”
“I know,” said the jowly man. “I just hate traveling in Hamonth. It’s bad luck, you know.”
“No. It’s bad luck to start a journey in Hamonth. We’re already at sea. Did you ever hear that it was bad luck to start a journey in Kafirius?”
“No.”
“Well, there you go. If anything, it’s good luck. We’ve got to move quickly too, you know. The latest report is that the railroad will reach Port Dechantagne by the end of Festuary.”
“That soon?”
“Yes. Say,” the first man tapped Staff on the shoulder. “Don’t I know you?”
“I don’t think so,” replied Staff, keeping his eyes on the piano player.
“But you’re a navy man, right? An officer?”
“I was.”
“Did you serve in Birmisia?”
“Yes.”
“Excellent. Allow me to make an introduction. I’m Alastair Merchant, and this is my partner Wendell P. Shannon.”
“Merchant and Shannon,” said Staff, turning to shake hands. “Like the shipping lines.”
“The very same.”
“Radley Staff, late a commander in His Majesty’s Royal Navy.”
“A pleasure to meet you. We’re on our way to Birmisia to conduct a little business and we could use a man who knows the lay of the land. Somebody who’s been there, knows how things are done. Say, I’ll bet you even know the royal governor.”
“We’ve met.”
“Fantastic,” Merchant turned to Shannon. “It looks like fortune has smiled on us again.”
Augie Dechantagne came running through the parlor and like a freight train. “Mama! Mama! I shot a velociraptor!” He dived toward the couch, landing not on his mother, but instead in the lap of Cissy who sat next to her.
“You did what?”
“I shot a velociraptor!”
Yuah’s eyes shot daggers at the boy’s uncle, who followed him into the room, and who was in turn followed by a lizzie burdened with at least six assorted rifles and another with several large canvas bags slung over his shoulder. “He’s not even three years old.”
“Don’t get yourself worked up,” said Radley Staff. “I didn’t give him the weapon. I simply let him look through the sights and pull the trigger while I held it.”
“Quite appropriate,” said Iolanthe from her seat across the room, her eyes glued to the paper in her hand. “”A Dechantagne man must be proficient in firearms.”
“You should have seen the blood shoot out!” continued the boy. “How many did we get again, Uncle?”
“Only four,” said Staff, who then turned to the lizzies. “Put the gear away in my den.”
“I hope you at least made sure the guns were unloaded in the house,” said Yuah.
“I certainly hope you didn’t.” Iolanthe at last looked away from her paper. “What’s the point in having rifles if they aren’t ready to be used?”
“Yuah is right,” said Staff. “Safety first. But the best way to be safe is to ensure the children have a good working knowledge of firearms and know when and when not to touch them.”
“Ready for a nap?” Cissy asked the boy. “Sister is already asleep.”
“I’m hungry,” said the boy. “Can I get a biscuit?”
“Go get one from the kitchen,” ordered his mother. Then she stood up. “I certainly can use a nap. I shall see you all at tea.”
Making her way up the long sweeping staircase, Yuah snapped her fingers at Narsa, who followed her into her bedroom and helped her remove her day dress and then unfasten her corset. Waving for the lizzie to go, she unfastened her own hip bag and draped it over the chair, before stretching out on the bed.
“What are you still doing here?” she called, seeing the lizzie out of the corner of her eye. “Oh, it’s you again.”
It wasn’t Narsa hovering just outside Yuah’s bedroom door, but Cissy. She seemed to be making a habit of hovering outside doors.
“What do you want? I’m not doing anything.”
“I whatch you,” said Cissy.
“Yes, yes,” replied Yuah. “Go ahead and ‘whatch’ me.”
Radley Staff is a minor character in the series, but in this one book, takes the part of a major character. While I really like him, it is only in this part of the story that he really needs to stand out.
One month later, as the winter wind whipped through his blond hair, Radley Staff climbed up the long rope ladder to the deck of the cruise ship S.S. Arrow. The launch which had carried him from the Superb turned, and the stout seamen rowed it back across the choppy sea. At the top of the ladder, he climbed through the opening in the railing and stepped onto the deck. The purser was there to greet him.
“Welcome aboard. Glad to have you with us, Commander Staff.”
“It’s just Mr. Staff now.”
“Yes, of course. The captain has asked me to inform you that even though we only have a second class cabin available for you, you will have access to all the first class amenities.”
“That’s very nice. Thank you.”
The purser smile broadly. “The cabin boy will show you the way.”
“Thank you.”
The cabin boy, a lad of about ten years, lifted Staff’s duffle bag to his shoulder, and headed across the damp deck toward an open hatch. Unlike the hatches on the battleship, this one resembled the door of a building. Staff followed the youth inside and then down three narrow sets of stairs, up a long narrow corridor and finally through another door into a small room. At six feet wide and sixteen feet long, the second class cabin was actually larger than the first officer’s quarters on Superb. The boy sat the duffle bag next to the bed, and Staff handed him a silver ten pfennig piece. Saluting, the boy left, closing the door after him.
Staff sat down on the edge of the bed. Pulling the duffle bag strings open, he reached in and pulled out the pieces of his wardrobe, setting them on the bed beside him. He had made his way about halfway to the bottom, when he reached his shaving kit. Sitting atop of it was the letter. He looked at it for a moment, and then unfolded it. The fold lines were so pressed into the paper now that they seemed the most permanent part of it. The ink was faded, but still legible.
Dear Lieutenant Staff,
I wanted to let you know that I will be marrying soon. Please do not write and please do not return. I wish things could have been different. Good-bye.
Sincerely,
Iolanthe.
He must have read it forty five thousand times, but he read it again anyway. Thirty five words. Not a lot of wasted ones. Not a lot of wasted emotion, either. He folded the letter back up and placed it along with his shaving kit, on the small vanity next to the bed. Taking out the last of his clothes, he put his socks in the single drawer, left the rest of his clothing sitting on the bed, and taking his extra pair of shoes, he stood up and stepped out the door of the cabin. He placed his shoes in the hallway by the door and walked up the hallway toward the ships bow.
He had passed five or six cabins when one of the doors opened and a cabin boy stepped out. Staff wasn’t sure if it was the same boy who had escorted him to his own cabin. The boy looked up.
“I need my clothes pressed,” said Staff.
“Yes, Sir. Cabin?”
“213.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“And which way is the first class lounge?”
“Straight ahead, Sir. Up the first staircase on your right. Royal deck. Third one up.”
“Thanks.”
Staff followed the boy’s directions and found the first class lounge with no problem. Though he wore a new suit that he had purchased in Nutooka, he felt decidedly underdressed. The dozen people in the spacious room already wore their evening clothes though it was only sixteen hundred hours. Four PM, he mentally corrected himself. A beautiful raven haired woman, in an iridescent purple taffeta ball gown with beaded and sequined trim sat at the piano, playing a wistful tune.
I often congratulate myself on my minor characters in Senta and the Steel Dragon. I flatter myself that some of them are very creative and interesting. One of my favorites is Honor Hertling.
Honor Hertling was dressed in the same sturdy brown and white clothing as her neighbors. Her sleeves and the front of her dress were stained with dirt, and she wore a beat up pair of men’s work gloves. Twenty years old, with large, sad eyes, a small nose, and raven hair, she was not classically beautiful, and not just because of the ugly scar that ran across her left cheek to her chin. She was cute though, in an indefinable way. Yuah reached out to take her gloved hand.
“Oh, sorry,” said Miss Hertling. She pulled her hand away and removed the glove, then grasped Yuah’s hand firmly. “What a lovely dress.”
“You like it? A little bird told me that you might not approve.” Yuah was suddenly aware that she was using one of Iolanthe’s expressions.
“Mein sister and her friend.” Miss Hertling’s accent suddenly became thicker. “I am thinking that the Drache girl likes to stir up trouble. Would you like to come in for some tea?”
“Thank you.”
Tossing her gloves onto a potting bench near the garden, the young woman opened the door. Yuah parked the blue baby carriage in the yard and lifting little Augie out, followed into the house. The structure was very small and consisted of three rooms. The front room, only about eight by twelve feet, served as parlor, dining room, and kitchen, as well as any number of other functions for which the Dechantagne household would have had individual rooms. From the cast iron stove at one end of the room to the shelf filled with canned goods at the other, the room was impeccably clean. A single bookcase contained a dozen volumes and was home to two small porcelain vases holding cut flowers. Bright light shown in through the lace curtained windows. Augie began to fuss as Yuah stepped inside.
“He’s probably hungry again,” she said.
“If you would like to nurse him now, you may sit in the rocking chair, while I make our tea.”
Yuah set the swaddled baby on the chair as she went about the fairly arduous task of freeing her breasts from the many layers of her clothing. Though two of her three undergarments had been fashioned with breast-feeding in mind, the gorgeous teal dress had not. By the time Augie was able to begin suckling, he was red-faced from crying and his mother was nearing exhaustion. Yuah pulled the suddenly quiet baby close to her body, now bare from the waist up, and reached with a free hand to accept the cup of steaming tea. Miss Hertling turned the lock on the door, which consisted of a small piece of wood with a single nail holding it to the doorjamb.
“I wouldn’t want Hertzal walking in on you,” she explained. “I think he might faint.”
A full complement of diners surrounded the Dechantagne table for the first time in a great while. Radley Staff sat at the head of the table, his wife on his right hand and his daughter on his left. Looking proudly from his spot directly opposite his uncle was Augie Dechantagne, a stack of books between his chair and his bottom. His mother sat on his right hand and his sister, in her high chair, on his left. Filling in the seats between Iolanthe and Terra were Mrs. Colbshallow and her son and daughter-in-law. On the other side of the table were Cissy and two guests—Honor Hertling and her little sister Hero.
“How wonderful to have us all together,” said Staff, waving for one of the servants to start filling the soup bowls.
“It will make for a lovely Oddyndessen,” said Honor Hertling.
“For a what?”
“It’s a Zaeri holy day,” said Yuah, her eyes never quite moving up from the table. “We don’t really celebrate it anymore in Brechalon.”
“Well, how lovely,” said Mrs. Colbshallow. “It’s always wonderful to learn new things.”
“Should we…” said Staff. “Would you… Is a prayer appropriate, considering?”
“We don’t usually do that,” said his wife, drumming her fingers on the table.
“Surely it can’t hurt… guests and all.”
“I could offer a simple prayer,” said Honor, and when Staff gave a nod that she should continue, she closed her eyes and intoned, “Great Lord, as you did with Odessah before his great journey, give us your blessings on this day. Amen.”
“In Kafira’s name, Amen,” said Loana Colbshallow, making the sign of the cross.
She was followed about three ticks later by both her husband and mother-in-law.
The lizzies quickly served onion soup. This was followed by a fruit and cress salad. As soon as the salad plates had been removed, the servants began placing the main course. Mrs. Colbshallow, though of course knowing nothing of Oddyndessen, had put together as fine a meal as she ever had. A large pork roast was the center point, though there was also poached fish. Pudding, peas, chips, and roasted mixed vegetables were placed on overflowing plates around the table.
“Wonderful as always mother,” said Saba Colbshallow.
“I think you’ve outdone yourself mother dear,” said his wife.
“Here, here,” agreed Staff. “Dearest?”
“The problem is Mrs. Colbshallow,” said Iolanthe. “Your meals are always so perfect.”
Everyone at the table sat staring, not sure if there was more to come, and not sure whether this was intended as an insult or a compliment.
“Thank you,” said Mrs. Colbshallow after a minute. She turned to Honor Hertling. “It’s a shame that your brother couldn’t attend.”
“Yes. He sends his regrets, but two ships came into port today, so he was needed at the docks. I hear that the lizzies have begun to move back in to Lizzietown, General Staff.”
“Yes, some of them have. It’s just Mr. Staff.”
“Some are moving back into town,” said Iolanthe. “But I have let it be known that these savage witch doctors will not be tolerated.”
She turned and stared at Yuah, but her sister-in-law never looked up from the table. Yuah just sat and absentmindedly moved the peas around her plate with her fork.
My class is reading Soldier Boys by Dean Hughes. This is a great YA novel about World War II. I highly recommend it. Unfortunately it doesn’t appear to be available as an ebook. Hopefully that will change soon.
“What’s your man?” asked Augie Dechantagne as he slid his wooden playing piece, marked to resemble a utahraptor forward to attack a similar wooden piece controlled by his cousin Iolana.
“Drache Girl,” she said.
“No fair!” he cried. “That’s supposed to be your lizzie witch doctor.”
“No, he’s over here.” She pointed to another wooden square several inches closer to her. “I moved him when you were eating all my lizzies with your tyrannosaurus.”
“I’m not playing anymore!”
“It’s just as well,” said Iolana, taking off her glasses and rubbing her eyes. “You know you can’t win when I have the Drache Girl.”
“Yuh huh. What if I have Hoonan Matriarch?”
“What if I have Insane Witch Woman?” the girl countered, sliding her glasses back into place on her button nose.
“Tonahass Ssotook,” he snarled.
Iolana slapped him across the cheek. Insane Witch Woman was a powerful piece that guaranteed victory for its owner, but that was no excuse for such profanity. Augie jumped to his feet, tears escaping his already full eyes, and ran from the room, but not before kicking the little wooden squares across the rug. The girl set about gathering the pieces all up and putting them back into their cloth bag. She was just finishing as her aunt Yuah entered the parlor and sat down on the sofa.
“Good morning, Aunt Yuah.”
“Come here,” ordered her aunt, as she sat down. “Let me see your new dress.”
Iolana sat the game on the coffee table and standing in front of the woman, twirled around. Her shin-length red dress with a trim of yellow bows was spread out around her by the three petticoats beneath it.
“Yes, you look just darling.” Yuah, reached out and adjusted a red bow in flowing locks of blond hair. “What do you think of it?”
“I love it,” said the girl. “It’s even nicer than the dresses that Mama buys for me. Thank you.”
“Well, if you are going to grow up to be a princess, you must look the part, mustn’t you?”
“I have no desire to be a princess, Aunt Yuah.”
“You have no desire… What kind of five year old child talks that way? What kind of little girl doesn’t want to grow up to be a princess? What exactly do you want to be then?”
“I want to go to Brech City and attend at St. Dante University,” said Iolana. “I’m going to read every book ever written and be a professor of literature.”
“I never heard of anything so ridiculous. Women do not become professors of anything, let alone professors of literature.”
“Tonahass Ssotook,” muttered the girl.
The smack of her aunt’s palm meeting her cheek echoed throughout the lower floor of the mansion.
Upstairs in the nursery, Cissy sat on the wooden toy box, Augie curled up in her lap, as she rocked the cradle containing little Terra back and forth. She looked from one to the other. The little girl was almost too big for the cradle. In fact she was almost too big for her baby bed. Soon the family would have to bring in a grown up human bed and convert the nursery to a bedroom. The boy’s tears had stopped and now he absentmindedly played with the lizzie’s dewlap as she hissed soothingly to him. He was already too big for the nursery and his uncle was converting the room in the far back corner of the house into a suitable boy’s room. It had already been outfitted wood paneling and a gold rug. A dresser, a desk, and chair had been moved in, and several stuffed dinosaur heads had been mounted on the wall.
Yuah passed the doorway heading toward her bedroom. Cissy shifted and Augie leaned back and looked up at his nurse.
“Go down and tlay with Iolana,” said Cissy.
“I don’t want to. I don’t like her anymore.”
“Little hoonan say wrong words. Little hoonan know it. Tell her sorry.”
“I’m not sorry. She wasn’t playing fair.”
“Tell her sorry. She loves little hoonan. He loves her.”
“No I don’t,” he said, but got up and stomped out of the nursery.
Cissy stood and stepped through the doorway, but instead of following the boy down the sweeping staircase, she turned right toward Yuah’s bedroom door. She gently turned the doorknob, not surprised to find it locked. Lifting the knob up with both hands, she bumped the door with her shoulder. It opened and she stepped inside.
“Get out you…” Yuah started. She was lying on her bed, her head propped up on two pillows, with a small glass vial of blue liquid in her hands. “Oh, it’s you. Don’t bother me. I want to be alone.”
Cissy crossed the distance in the blink of an eye, snatched the tiny bottle from her hands and threw it across the room. It dashed to pieces against the cold stones of the unused fireplace.
“You stupid bloody bitch!” Yuah jumped to her feet on the bed. “That was two hundred marks!”
Suddenly her eyes jumped toward the small nightstand beside the bed. Cissy followed her eyes to see a small wooden box with several more of the tiny vials. They both jumped for the little box, but the reptilian was quicker. With a swift motion, it too flew into the fireplace, the box breaking apart and the bottles all smashing to pieces.
Yuah let out a cry halfway between a scream and a growl and jumped onto Cissy’s shoulders. The lizzie easily pulled her away and tossed her on the bed. With a quick backward kick, she shut the door. Then she grabbed the woman by the shoulder and dragged her to her feet.
“I’ll kill you, you stupid lizzie.”
“No!” hissed Cissy. “Kill yourself! Kill yourself with staahstiachtio. Yuah whant to die? I do it for you now!”
She pressed a claw-tipped finger against the skin right between the woman’s eyes.
“Yuah whant to die?”
Yuah whimpered and then sobbed. “Go ahead. Do it.”
“Is it what you whant? Whant Augie to be orphan? Terra? Grow with no…”
Yuah broke down into uncontrollable weeping. Cissy let her go and she wilted down onto the bed, where she lay crying.
Someone pounded on the door.
“What’s going on in there?” called Mrs. Colbshallow.
“You whant Augie and Terra to live like lizzies with no family? You have to not staahstiachtio. None. None.”
“I can’t do it!” wailed Yuah. “I want to do it, but it’s too hard. It’s too hard. Just kill me. Just kill me.”
“No,” said Cissy. “Yuah whill do it. Yuah whill do it for Augie and Terra. There whill be no more staahstiachtio. None.”
Yuah looked up at her through bloodshot eyes.
“None,” said Cissy. “Yuah say it. None.”
Eaglethorpe Buxton story number 3, Eaglethorpe Buxton and the Queen of Aerithraine is done. I finished it this past Monday and as I type, I’m giving it a quick edit. Then I’ll set it aside with the two previous EB stories and get back to Kanana: The Jungle Girl.
Taking time for EB, gave me a chance to reflect on how Kanana was going. I was already on chapter ten, but I didn’t like the tone. It’s too easy to go too light when the story is in first person (like Eaglethorpe Buxton or Alexander Ashton from Amathar) and I wanted this story to be a bit more hefty. Therefore I decided to rewrite it. I’m changing it to third person viewpoint, and I’m expanding what had previously been flashbacks into full chapters that interspace with chapters about the present. All in all, I think this will read much better, but it’s going to be a longer book and so will take longer to write.
I also sat down and tapped out the first few pages of my newly planned star-voyaging epic, just to get a feel of the characters and the space. I will probably have to completely rewrite it when I get around to writing it for real. It was really just an experiment at this point.
City of Amathar 