Chapter One: Bangdorf

The sun was low in the sky over Bangdorf, igniting gold fire on the spires of the Kaiserlicher Palast and the tall, thin, single tower of the Kirche Unserer Heiligen Mutter. The red and white roofs of the many other buildings were less striking but no less beautiful. Senta Bly pulled a wayward blond curl back behind her ear as she stared out the large window on the twelfth floor of the Kanalgeschäfts Hotel, as she often did at this time of day. She had been in Bangdorf for a fortnight after six months of touring much of Sumir. She thought Bangdorf was the most beautiful city that she had ever seen. Smaller than Brech and much newer, it was laid out with wide streets and broad, lush parks. If it had been anywhere else in the world, she could have seen herself staying there.
She swiftly turned and walked down the hallway to the door of the Imperial suite and opening it, stepped inside. The large parlor was empty, so she continued on into the master bedroom. Reclining on the bed, wearing nothing but his slacks and a white undershirt, was her companion Kieran Baxter. Retrieving a lit cigarette from the ashtray on the nightstand, he took a long drag and blew out a thick stream of smoke.
“Dress shopping again?” he asked.
“Yes.” She spun around. “Does this dress make my bottom look big?”
“Huge.”
“Good. This is the latest thing in lady’s undergarments. It’s called a table-top bustle.”
“I can see why.” He took a last puff from the cigarette, before mashing it into the ashtray. “I could lay out a seven course meal on your ass.”
“Don’t say ‘ass’,” Senta hissed. “It’s uncouth.”
Baxter shrugged, then spun his legs off the bed and sat up. He cared little for ladies’ fashions. Senta on the other hand, spent a great deal of time shopping. This particular dress, newly in from Mirsanna, had a high collar in front, though it was cut low in the back. Gold, trimmed with black brocade, it had puffs of black lace at the wrists.
“Are we going out tonight?” asked Baxter.
“Of course. We only have four more days.”
“I’d better get dressed then, hadn’t I?”
A sudden loud “gawp” could be heard through the side door. Senta quickly crossed the room and opened the door to reveal a large closet. Curled up into a neat circle, just inside the door, was a dragon. No bigger than a medium sized dog, the beast was covered with coral tinted metallic scales. Its long thin snout was resting on its forearms. Its long whip-like tail, tipped with a spade-shaped barb, was wrapped around its body.
“Poor baby,” said Senta, leaning down and reaching out a hand to the little coral dragon. “Did the bad man lock you up in the closet all day?”
A thin forked tongue quickly licked the woman’s fingers, and then suddenly the mouth full of needle sharp teeth bit down upon the fleshy part of her hand.
“Ouch! You horrible little twonk!”
“You shouldn’t say ‘twonk’,” said Baxter dryly. “It’s uncouth. And that’s why she’s been locked up all day.”
“She hasn’t been out in forever,” said Senta, pausing to lick the blood off her hand. “She has so much pent up energy.”
“Indeed.”
“Come along, Pet,” she said, scooping up the dragon into her arms.
The little beast allowed itself to be cuddled for just a moment before slithering up her sleeve and taking a spot on her shoulder. The sorceress crossed the room and opened the doors to the balcony.
“Go on,” said Senta. “Fly, but be back by morning.”
The little dragon shot into the sky with so much force, it sent her staggering backwards several steps. Once inside again, she shut the doors. Baxter was now in the closet putting on a newly starched white shirt. Senta walked up behind him and snaked her arms around his waist.
“You do look handsome when you get dressed up.”
“Thank you.” He unfastened his pants and tucked in the shirt tail. “I worry about letting her out. We’ve already had two shooting attempts. It seems careless to chance a third.”
“Yes, but both of those times they were trying to shoot me,” Senta pointed out. “I doubt anyone will even notice her and I don’t think a bullet would permanently harm her anyway. I’m much more concerned about her growth. By this age, Bessemer was nearly the size of a pony.”
“Maybe the females are just smaller, or maybe her kind of dragon doesn’t grow as big.”
“Maybe, maybe. That’s why I’ve decided to spend tomorrow at the library.”
“I thought we were taking the river cruise tomorrow.” He turned around so that she could tie the bowtie he had just wrapped around his neck.
“You can still go.”
“By myself?”
“I doubt you’ll suffer from a lack of female companionship.”
“You wouldn’t mind?” he asked. “If I were to take the cruise with a lovely Freedonian girl?”
“As long as I don’t see you, you’ll both probably survive,” said Senta. “Just remember, the women here are desperate for you lot.”
“And whose fault is that?”
“It’s not mine,” said Senta. “Everybody seems to forget that. I had nothing to do with that bit. Now put your jacket on and let’s go.”
“Don’t you want to see the baby?” he asked.
“Yes, of course.”
Baxter put on his jacket as he crossed room, stepped out into the parlor, and opened the nursery door. Senta followed.
“Bringen sie das kind ins wohnzimmer, bitte fraulein.”
Two women stepped out into the parlor. Both were quite young. The first was a dark-haired beauty with flashing eyes, dressed in a simple black and brown dress. The other, who carried a sleeping baby wrapped in pink blankets, was blond and blue-eyed, with a colorful floral-patterned dress.
“She looks just precious when she’s asleep, doesn’t she?” said Senta, as she took the child from the other blonde.
“She is precious,” said Baxter. “You should spend more time with her.”
“She’s being well cared for by Miss Lorvann and Miss Müller. And I spend much more time with her than my mother ever spent with me at this age, I can tell you that.”
“She ist a gute child,” said the brunette.
“And how is your baby, Miss Lorvann?”
“He ist einen big boy soon,” she replied.
“Of course he is. That’s why you were able to take on my little pet. I counted myself very lucky to find a wet nurse here in Bangdorf. She is sucking?”
Miss Lorvann blushed to be part of such a conversation in front of a man, but Baxter was already heading back to the bedroom to get his shoes.
“Ja, she eat gute.”
“And you are happy with her progress, Miss Müller.”
The blonde stared uncomprehendingly.
“Das baby ist gut?”
“Ja, Ja,” the young woman assured. “Sie weint kaum überhaupt.”
Senta looked at the cherubic face just visible within the swirl of blankets. A tiny curl of blond hair swept down just above the closed eyes. A cute little button nose was just set off by the tiny pursed lips. She handed the child back to the nurse.
“We will be back before nine,” she said. “Vor neun.”
Baxter returned, wearing highly polished shoes, as the two young women retreated to the nursery. The former navy officer cut quite a figure when he was dressed. Offering Senta his arm, he led her from the suite, down the hallway to the elevator. The operator opened the door for them and then threw the switch, sending the tiny conveyance downward.
“So what is the venue for this evening?” asked Baxter.
“Just dinner.”
“No opera? No ballet?”
“I’m tired of all that, honestly,” said Senta. “How many times can you enjoy chubby Freedonian women acting out fairy tales? The concierge gave me directions to a little place that’s supposed to be famous among the locals.”
“Did you order a car?”
“No, it’s close enough that we can walk.”
They strolled along the wide avenue, around the block, to a small building that looked like it could have come right out of one of the fairy tales to which the sorceress had been alluding. It was a small, two-story affair with heavy shutters open on either side of the windows and an ornately carved oak door. Baxter pulled open the portal and they entered to find a cozy interior, lit primarily by flickering candles. Seven or eight patrons, all but one of them women, sat at small square tables, being served by a pair of buxom blondes in light cotton blouses and green, heavy wool skirts. Senta chose a table in the corner and waited until Baxter pulled out her chair. Once they were both seated, one of the blondes appeared beside them.
“Gute nacht.”
“Was ist… um, besonderes?” Senta tripped over the unfamiliar Freedonian term.
“You are Brechs, Ja?” asked the waitress. “I can speak Brech very gute.”
“Excellent,” said the sorceress. “What do you recommend for dinner tonight?”
“We have a gute dinner. I bring you cheeses and then chicken soup. It is very gute, everyone says. Then I bring you roast beef or the fish, you choose. And potatoes Kasselburg, sour kraut, and fresh baked bread. Of course for dessert, you have strudel.”
“That sounds perfect,” said Baxter. “Roast beef for me, and a beer.”
“Yes, the same,” said Senta, and then when the waitress had gone, “Imagine serving cheese before the meal.”
“They do have some very good cheeses though. In fact, all the food here is good. I think I’ve gained five pounds since we’ve been here.”
“Ten,” said Senta. “You really are becoming hideous. But don’t worry. That’s just how I want you—fat enough that other women will find you unattractive, but not so fat that I’ll find you disgusting.”
The waitress returned and sat down a platter containing at least a dozen small wheels of cheese, which Baxter now stared at as though it was a platter of poisonous snakes. Senta smiled to herself and carved off a piece of one of the creamier varieties and brought it to her mouth. Neither of them finished their meals hungry. After large hunks of roast beef covered in thick brown gravy and creamy seasoned potatoes, they both felt satisfied and sedate.
Baxter picked up the tall glass of dark beer and sipped it.
“They’re watching you, you know,” he said.
Turning slightly, Senta could see the two blondes peering out from the kitchen.
“No, they’re not. They’re watching you, and with you being so ugly and all. I told you they were desperate.”
“How can you tell?”
“Watch.”
Senta raised her arm out straight in front of her over the table, palm down. Flipping her hand over, a flame sprang up in her palm. Within two or three seconds, the flame had coalesced into a humanoid figure, eight or nine inches tall, which immediately began pirouetting and spinning in a miniature ballet, all without leaving Senta’s hand. Baxter wasn’t paying the little dancing flame any attention. He had seen the trick before. He was watching the waitresses, who looked so much alike he decided that they must actually be twins. They started at the appearance of magic and their gazes shifted just enough for him to realized that they had previously been in fact, looking at him.
“Maybe you could take one of them on the river cruise with you.”
“Maybe both of them,” he replied. “It seems a shame to break up a set.”