Category Archives: The Steel Dragon

The Voyage of the Minotaur: The Steel Dragon

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The last character in Senta and the Steel Dragon is the second title character for the series– the Steel Dragon himself.  In fact, when the series was originally planned as a single book, the title was going to be “The Steel Dragon.”

Spoiler Alert

The Steel Dragon goes through more change than any other character in the entire series.  In Book 0, he only appears as an egg afterall.  🙂  In The Voyage of the Minotaur he is little more than a pet for the sorceress Zurfina, though she saves the term “Pet” for Senta.  We don’t even learn the dragon’s name until the very last word of the book.

The Steel Dragon grows (a lot) and increases his intellect and various abilities a great deal from book to book.  In the final book of the series, Book 5: The Two Dragons, he is as large as a railroad car, though still tiny compared to the other dragon in the story– yes, he’s one of the two dragons mentioned in the title.

I hoped the 25 regular readers of this blog have enjoyed a look at the characters in this book.  In the next few days, I’ll start my way through Book 2: The Dark and Forbidding Land.

*** The Voyage of the Minotaur ***

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With the decision that “The Steel Dragon” is going to be a series, and that the series is going to be called “Senta and the Steel Dragon”, I needed a name for the first book in the series– the one I was originally calling “The Steel Dragon”. Here it is. “The Voyage of the Minotaur” So those excerpts you’ve been reading from The Steel Dragon have been excerpts from The Voyage of the Minotaur. Look for another one tomorrow.

The Steel Dragon – The Series

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Well, as I mentioned before, I was trying to decide if the Steel Dragon is going to be an ongoing series or a trilogy as original plotted. I’ve decided on a series. In fact, I am going to write two more books to fit between the three already written, so that those completed books will be 1, 3, and 5 in the series, while the new books will be 2 and 4. Then I can go on to write six and on.

The Steel Dragon: Trilogy or Continuing Series.

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Right now The Steel Dragon is in the slush pile at Baen books waiting to be read. It’s been there for four months and so I don’t expect to hear anything else for another five at least. When I wrote the book, I thought of it as one long novel (about 660,000 words). Once I was done, I decided it needed to be a trilogy and I began to think of it as my Lord of the Rings. In either form, it has a long and complete epilogue which tells what happens to all the characters for the rest of their lives.

When I finished writing, I really felt bad about not being able to write more about the world and the characters that I created, so I plotted out a story which goes between volumes two and three. Now after reading O Pioneers, I feel like even that is not enough and I want to write much more. I want to take off that epilogue and write out what happens to the characters in book form. I’m still thinking about this, so I don’t know what I’ll decide.

The Steel Dragon – Chapter 6 Excerpt

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There seemed to be more people milling around on the starboard side of the ship, so he headed to the port, in hopes of finding a spot to sit. When he rounded the one of the battleship’s great gun turrets, Zeah saw why most of the others were eschewing this particular location. Zurfina the Magnificent was standing near the railing. Her blond hair was its usual, carefully cultivated chaos. She was wearing a dress which completely covered her from head to heel, but which was so tight and so contoured to her body, that it was more lewd than if she had been standing there naked. Zeah would have sworn that it was made from rubber, had such a thing been possible. The girl that had accompanied the sorceress when she had boarded was with her now. She too wore a black dress, in a more traditional style, though made of the same shiny substance. And the question of what type of animal that the sorceress had brought aboard with her was now answered. The case that she had carried when she had arrived now sat beside the girl, and on top of the case perched a small, sinewy, winged reptile. It had a long, snakelike neck, and an equally long, snakelike tale, four legs and two thin wings. It was covered in scales the color of new steel. Even its wings were covered. When it suddenly flapped them, sparkling reflections caused Zeah to cover his eyes. It was a dragon, the first that the head butler had ever seen. The girl was feeding it pieces of raw, red meat with a gloved hand. Between bites the tiny dragon would make growls reminiscent of an angry housecat, and the girl would giggle.

Zeah paused for a moment uncertainly. He was about to turn around and go back the way he had come, but the sorceress looked up and saw him. Not wanting to be seen a coward by one so powerful, he squared his shoulders and stepped forward with his porridge and pumpernickel. The girl was sitting on a case covering some type of shipboard equipment, and the butler moved to sit next to her only a few feet from the dragon and the obscenely dressed magic user.

“May I join you?” he asked.

“You are more than welcome, Mr. Korlann,” said Zurfina, in her smoky, sultry voice. “We are about to begin lessons. Perhaps you can benefit from them as well.”

Zurfina raised her hand and a glowing sphere rose up from the deck. It floated up until it reached the height of her shoulders, then began expanding and becoming more opaque, until Zeah recognized it as a globe of the world, which stopped growing at eleven or twelve feet in diameter. As it slowly spun in mid-air, Zeah could make out the shapes of the landmasses and oceans of the world.

“This is Greater Brechalon,” said Zurfina, and the shape of the four islands making up the country glowed.

“It’s little,” said the girl.

“Yes it is, Pet,” said Zurfina. “It’s just one of many countries on the continent of Sumir and Sumir is just one of the twelve continents. We’re going to this one—Mallon.”

Another portion of the globe was illuminated as it slowly rotated around in mid-air. This was a large portion of a tremendous landmass made up of four continents, and was almost on the opposite side of the world from Greater Brechalon and the rest of Sumir.

“And this spot right inside of Mallon, is the land of Birmisia”

“It’s little too,” said the girl.

“True, it is only a small portion of Mallon, and yet it’s larger than all of Greater Brechalon. You see, that’s why the King and the Prime Minister want colonies on all these other continents. There is all this land, just sitting there, filled with the riches of nature, and no one to reap them—a vast world without the benefits of civilization.”

“What’s so great about civilization?” asked the girl.

“You see, Mr. Korlann?” said Zurfina. “Out of the mouths of babes come great truths.”

“Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings hast thou ordained strength over thine enemies, that thou might slay them and lay waste to their lands and their flocks,” quoted Zeah. “For the kingdom of the Lord shall reign over all the other kingdoms of the world.”

“Yes, well,” said Zurfina. “She has plenty of time to become disillusioned later.”

Zeah was startled by the tiny steel dragon, as it let out a short growl. The little beast was undeniably beautiful. It reminded the butler of a statue that was heavily detailed—the pointed barb and the end of its tail, the whiskers around its face, each individual scale fitting neatly together as it moved.”

“You have a question, Mr. Korlann?” asked Zurfina.

“Is this a real dragon?”

“Most assuredly.”

“Aren’t they… well, dangerous?”

“Most assuredly.”

“How large will it get?”

“Far too large to sit where it is now sitting,” said Zurfina, her smoky voice punctuating the image.

The girl fed the dragon one last piece of meat, and then took off the leather glove that had protected her hand. The dragon, evidently unhappy that his meal was over, let out a particularly long and unhappy growl.

“Does it have a name?” asked Zeah.

“Of course,” said Zurfina.

“We don’t know it yet,” said the girl. “He’s too little to talk.”

Zurfina clapped her hands and the giant globe disappeared. She snapped her fingers and the carrier, on which the little dragon sat, popped open. The dragon squawked unhappily, but climbed down into the carrier, then tried to bite the girl as she reached down to close the door.

“Brassy berk!” said the girl.

“No more lessons today, Pet,” said Zurfina. “I’m going to take a nap. Put our boy away and then practice your magic.”

The girl picked up the animal carrier and began lugging it forward. Zurfina smiled at Zeah and winked. He half expected her to raise her arms above her head and disappear, but she didn’t. She just followed the child carrying the dragon, and all three passed through an open hatch and out of eyesight. Zeah ate several bites of his porridge; just enough to have something on his stomach, then poured the rest over the side and tossed his bread in the ocean after it. Then he walked back to the stern to return his bowl.

Zeah didn’t see Zurfina the Magnificent for more than a week after that day, but she was not the only purveyor of the mystical arts aboard. Two wizards had been hired by Master Augie and had joined the expedition as part of the mercenary company commanded by Master Terrence. The first was a war wizard named Dudley Labrith, who had served with Lieutenant Dechantagne’s battalion in the Royal Colony of Birmisia. He was a tall, well-built man with dark black hair and a neatly trimmed mustache, and had been born in the great city of Brech. He dressed like the rest of the military men on the expedition, in khakis and pith helmet. The other wizard was from Mirsanna. His name was Suvir Kesi. His dark complexion and unusual comb mustache alone would have made him stand out among the crew and passengers, but he accentuated his differences even more by wearing traditional clothing of his homeland—a bright blue silk shirt and loose fitting black pants tucked into his high black boots, and a yellow fez with a blue tassel on top. Several days after his encounter with the sorceress, her ward, and the dragon, Zeah found the two wizards huddled together along the railing. As he approached, they both turned to greet him.

“Good morning, Mr. Korlann,” said Kesi, his pronounced Mirsannan accent making his words sound oily and slick. “It is Mr. Korlann, is it not?”

“Yes. And I have the pleasure of addressing the Great Wizard Labrith and the Great Wizard Kesi?”

Regardless of just how great they might be, Zeah assumed that it was a good idea to play it safe. Even low level wizards could be quite dangerous for someone with no magical talent at all, like himself. The two wizards nodded in acknowledgement.

“Tell me, Mr. Korlann,” said Labrith. “Which cabin belongs to Zurfina the Magnificent?”

“It’s…why do you want to know?”

“To introduce ourselves,” said Kesi. “Give her a chance to get to know us.”

“Oh, I’ve long been an admirer,” said Labrith.

“I, as well,” said Kesi.

“It’s… you know,” said Zeah. “I’m afraid that I don’t remember which cabin she was assigned. I must have it written down in my notes, back in my cabin.”

The two wizards glanced at one another.

“Don’t worry yourself about it,” said Kesi.

“No. It wasn’t anything important,” said Labrith.

“You know,” said Kesi. “This Zurfina is quite well known among practitioners of the arts. I am quite surprised that she would sign on to this type of expedition. With power of her sort, she could be the royal wizard in any country she chose… if this is the same Zurfina of which I have heard.”

“Quite, quite,” said Labrith. “It was my understanding in fact, that the Ministry of War was looking for her in Brech, but was never able to find her. How were you able to find her, Mr. Korlann?”

“Miss Dechantagne contacted her,” said Zeah, “on the advice of a wizard from Mernham Yard.”

“Interesting,” said Labrith.

“Yes, indeed,” said Kesi.

“Well, I have much to attend to,” said Labrith, nodding. “Good day to you, Mr. Korlann. Good day to you, Wizard Kesi.”

“Yes. Good day to you, Wizard Labrith.” said Kesi. “Good day, Mr. Korlann.”

The two wizards turned and departed, each in a different direction. Zeah continued on his way. He had much to attend to as well, though he couldn’t help but wonder at the strange twists of fortune which would place an ordinary butler on a battleship in the middle of the ocean with several wizards and a dragon.

The Steel Dragon – Chapter 5 Excerpt

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Senta walked slowly to the door, holding the gold coin in her open hand, as if it might disappear at any moment. She stopped near the steel dragon, sitting on his plinth, and turned back around to look at the woman in the strange black apparel—waiting for additional confirmation that it was indeed all right to take the coin and go to the toy store. Zurfina waved her on. The steel dragon let out a long hiss.

“Cheeky twonk!” said Senta.

The steel dragon, with his mouth the size of a house cat’s, took a snap at her. She jumped back and squealed. Then she dashed out the door, down the two flights of stairs and through the shop filled with strange translucent proprietors and strange translucent customers. She found herself once again on the street. People were walking up and down the cement sidewalk. Steam carriages were driving up and down the cobblestone street. The horse drawn trolley was moving along at its same clopping pace. And Senta stood in her strange black costume, with black and white striped legs—the only new clothes she had ever owned—clutching more money than she had ever dreamed of holding.

Closing her fist tightly around the coin, Senta took off at her fastest down the street, around the corner and down Prince Tybalt Boulevard. She was running faster than she had ever run. She thought that, to the other people on the street, she must appear nothing more than a black streak flying by like magic. Like magic! She was just about to reach the corner of Avenue Phoenix, around which sat the toy store, when her feet suddenly stopped and of their own accord, took her into the alley just behind the row of stores. She stood against the wall and opened her left hand to look at the coin. Magic! She pointed at the coin with her right index finger.

“Uuthanum,” she said, and twirled her finger.

The coin flipped over in her palm.

“Uuthanum,” she said, again twirling her finger.

This time the coin sat up on its edge and began to spin.

She could do magic!

“Hey, gimme that!” said a voice nearby.

Senta looked up to see a boy a few feet away from her. He had been sitting in a pile of trash, but now rose to his feet. He was a bit older and about twice as thick as Senta, but about the same height. He wore a pair of pants that might have once been white, but now were decidedly dark grey. His shirt, if the upside down writing on the front were any indication, had once been a sack of Farmer’s Best Grade “A” Flour.

“Gimme that.”

Senta closed her fist around the decimark and put her hand behind her back, but she didn’t say anything. The boy moved closer and balled up his fist. Senta pointed at him with her right index finger.

“Uuthanum!” she said.

She didn’t think it would really work, but if she could flip the boy over, like the coin, then she could run back out onto the street. The boy didn’t flip over. Instead, a blue cone sprang from her outstretched finger, expanding to engulf the boy. There was a crackling sound. The boy’s skin turned blue. Frost formed on his hair, his eyelashes, and his nose. Senta pulled her finger back, but the cone remained for a moment before fading. The end of the boy’s nose turned black. He opened his mouth to scream, but his lips cracked and began to bleed. He turned to run, and then fell screaming. He got back up and ran away down the alley, but he had left a frozen big toe on the ground where he had fallen.

Senta walked over and bent down to look at the frozen big toe on the packed dirt ground of the alley. She had a sudden urge to pick it up and put it in her pocket, but she didn’t. She did reach out and touch it with her finger. It wobbled slightly. Standing back up, she walked out of the alley and around the corner to the front of Humboldt’s Fine Toys. The same toys were in the window that had been there when she had last looked inside—the life-like, singing bird; the mechanical ships, trains, and steam carriages; and the doll. With a feeling she had never felt before and could not put a name to, Senta walked over to the door, pushed it open, and walked inside.

A bell hanging above the door chimed as Senta walked in. Though brightly lit, the room seemed somehow darker than it really was because it was so filled with toys. Overflowing counters left only tiny little aisles through which to negotiate. There was no shopkeeper to be seen, but the girl heard a muffled call from the back, and a moment later a man walked into the main shop. He was an older man with thinning grey hair and a bushy mustache, wearing a white shirt with brown suspenders. He wore gold-framed pince-nez glasses. When he saw the child standing in his store, with fine, new, frighteningly inky black clothing, he visibly started.

“Hello, young miss,” he said. “What can I do for you today?”

“I want the doll.”

“Which doll?”

Senta looked around, suddenly realizing that there were scores, maybe hundreds of dolls in the shop. There were dolls on the counters and dolls on the shelves along the back wall. There were even dolls hanging from the ceiling. Most, like the one in the window, were cloth-bodied dolls, with ceramic hands and feet. Some wore beautiful miniature gowns, though others wore day dresses. They ranged in size from a petit six inches to one which was nearly as tall as Senta.

“I want the doll in the window.”

Nodding, the man went to the window and retrieved the doll. He carefully held it by its cloth body, with its porcelain face peeking over the top of his hand and the cloth legs with black porcelain shoes dangling below it. He walked back to the counter and slipping back behind it, set the doll down in front of Senta.

“I can see the attraction,” said the toy maker.

Senta suddenly realized that the doll looked like her; or rather she now looked like the doll. She hadn’t this morning when she had gotten up, but now she had a new black dress, and shiny new black shoes, and a new short haircut.

“It’s four marks,” said the toy maker.

The Steel Dragon – Chapter 4 Excerpt

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Iolanthe Dechantagne walked slowly down the wide, sweeping staircase that led into the vast foyer of her home. She had expected to make a rather grand entrance, but was disappointed to find no visitor awaiting her at the bottom of the stairs. The room was peopled only by several members of the household staff: the doorman, one of the maids, and a young man on a ladder cleaning the wall behind one of the gas lamps. Iolanthe turned slowly to look at Yuah, who stood just behind and to her right. The dressing maid, in a gray and white dress that made her look rather more like a governess than a maid, shrank back slightly. She knew how disappointed Iolanthe was, especially when she had purchased the new evening gown for just this occasion. It was white, and the skirt featured seven layers, one upon the other, each trimmed with red and black, the hem creating a circle more than five feet wide as it swept the floor. The bodice featured matching red and black trim. It was of course so thin at the waist that no one could have worn it without a patented Prudence Plus fairy bust form corset and it featured, as was the style, a prominent bustle in back. It was strapless, leaving an unobstructed view of Iolanthe’s long, thin neck, her smooth shoulders and the top several inches of her chest. Instead of a hat, she wore an arrangement of red and white carnations atop her carefully curled hairdo, which matched the rest of her outfit perfectly.
“She was here, Miss.” said Yuah.
It had been two days since her brother had learned from a police inspector that a powerful sorceress was available for hire. She had arranged a meeting, carefully setting the precise date to give herself plenty of time to prepare. When one met a powerful magic user, especially when one intended to hire a powerful magic user, one had to make a good impression. If Iolanthe were going to hire this woman, if this woman really possessed the gifts that she and her brothers would need in their great enterprise, she intended to show the woman, right from the beginning, who was boss.
Yuah scrambled down the steps of sweeping staircase and whispered to the doorman. The doorman whispered back. Then Yuah ran back up the stairs to Iolanthe’s side.
“Master Augie just took her to the library.”
“Bloody hell, Augie, you idiot,” said Iolanthe.
She stomped her way down the remaining steps of the staircase and through the foyer, stopping just outside the door to the library. Hyperventilating for a moment, she stepped through the door with a stately and unhastened grace. Yuah followed her, several steps behind. The library was a relatively small room, about thirty by thirty feet, but with a ceiling two stories high. All four walls were completely covered in bookcases to the ceiling. Two railed ladders allowed access to the books at the very top. The room made quite an impression—when full of books. Unfortunately, the books had been packed and loaded onto the H.M.S. Minotaur. The resulting room, empty except for the three overstuffed chairs, two small tables, two oil lamps, and a single volume—Baumgarten’s “Brech Stories”—was noticeably unimpressive. Along the far wall, Augie leaned against one of the ladders with practiced nonchalance. In the center of the room stood the woman—the sorceress.
She looked like a demon or a deviant prostitute, or some combination of the two. Her shoulder length blond hair was styled as though it had been cut with garden shears and it stuck out in all directions. She had dropped charcoal dust into her large grey eyes, creating thick black borders around them like the ancient Argrathian queens, and she had framed them with green malachite eye shadow. Her lips were so dark that it was more the red of blood than that of the rose. Though her skin was alabaster white, as was Iolanthe’s own, she wore no rouge on her cheeks to give her that aura of health and vitality. She wore no hat, and to Iolanthe’s eyes, no clothing.
The woman’s ensemble was bizarre and lewd in the extreme. It was clearly meant to frighten and baffle at the same time. It was a collection of women’s undergarments transformed into outer clothing. Her arms were covered in fishnet gloves, though they couldn’t really be called gloves, because they didn’t cover her fingers. They simply attached to rings around her thumbs and her pinkies and then ran up almost to her shoulders, where they were held on tight with silken bows. She wore a corset made of black leather with a series of five belt-like straps with buckles running up the front, which Iolanthe suddenly realized would allow the woman to don and doff the device without the aid of anyone else. The low-cut brassier portion of the corset left much of the woman’s chest bared and exposed two tattoos, each a five pointed star, two and a half inches across, outlined in black but filled in with red ink. She wore a kind of leather skirt over the corset, but it reached down only about fourteen inches from her waist, leaving the tops of her stockings and the twelve suspenders connecting them to the corset, completely exposed. The stockings were fishnet mesh, matching the gloves. They were mostly unseen however, as the woman’s leather boots reached all the way past her knees to mid-thigh. These boots each had seven of the same belt like straps with buckles that her corset had, as though they were made to match, which they probably were. The boots had thick square four inch heels. This last detail was the least striking, as high heels were the fashion. Iolanthe’s own shoes had similar heels, and owing to the fact that she could look the woman directly in the eye, the two women must have been of about the same height, with or without heels.

“Zurfina, I presume,” said Iolanthe.

Art copyright 2008 by Clipart.com

The Steel Dragon – Chapter 3 Excerpt

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Zeah Korlann watched as Miss Dechantagne spoke to the policeman. If he had come home covered in blood, and then called the policeman to tell him that he had just shot two men in an alley, he would be sitting in the deepest, darkest cell in Ravendeep by now. Miss Dechantagne on the other hand, took a careful sip of her tea, keeping her pinky straight, from a teacup that matched her dressing gown, as she told the blue-clad officer of her “adventure”. She then told him about how she had driven herself home and taken a long hot bath, after ordering her steam carriage cleaned and her clothing disposed of. Maybe the key was not being nervous. Policemen were used to dealing with guilty, twitchy, little people. Miss Dechantagne never felt guilty about anything, she never twitched, and she was most definitely not one of the little people. Then again, the policeman probably wasn’t listening to a word she said. She sat there with her luxurious auburn hair hanging loosely about her shoulders, her skin the very picture of porcelain perfection, her lips painted luscious red, and those unusual aquamarine eyes. And she was wearing what? Certainly not a bustle or a corset, just yard after yard of violet and silver silk dressing gown, from her neck to the floor. Maybe the key was that, as far as the policemen knew, there were no underclothes at all under that dressing gown.
“Normally in these situations,” said the policeman. “We would bring the journeyman wizard from Mernham Yard to cast a truth spell, but I really don’t see the need. Everything seems to be straight-forward enough.”
“Thank you officer,” said Miss Dechantagne. “You have been most considerate.”
“My pleasure, Miss.”
“Would you please leave your name and address with my man before you leave? I would like to send you a thank-you gift for your kindness in this trying time.”
“That won’t be necessary, Miss,” said the policeman, clicking his heels and bowing before he left, but he gave his name and address to Zeah anyway, revealing the true key to living an existence free from police trouble. The officer would receive a gift basket filled with fresh fruit, expensive jams and jellies, canned kippers, loaves of rosemary and garlic bread, some very nice cheese, a sausage, and four or five hundred one mark banknotes.
When the head butler had closed the front door behind the policeman, he turned on a heel and walked back into the parlor. Miss Dechantagne already seemed to have forgotten that she had been dealing with police business. She continued to sip her tea, but now she did so while reading the latest issue of Brysin’s Weekly Ladies’ Journal. Yuah entered carrying a small plate with three carefully arranged peppermint candies upon it. She gave Zeah a quick wink. It was just like the girl to get cheeky on her birthday.
“Are your ready to go about your duties for the day, Zeah?” asked Miss Dechantagne.
“Yes, Miss.”
“A little birdie has reminded me that it is your daughter’s birthday,” said Miss Dechantagne, biting into one of the peppermints candies. “I do hope you have plans to celebrate it.”
“The staff will be presenting her with a cake at dinner.” said Zeah.
“Excellent.” said Miss Dechantagne, then turning to Yuah. “Take the rest of the evening off. I shan’t need you.”
“Very good, Miss.” said Yuah.
“Birthdays are important,” said Miss Dechantagne. “They come only once every three hundred seventy five days.”
“Yes, Miss.” said Yuah, and exited the room.
“Do you have a gift for her?” The lady asked the head butler.
“I’m picking up a scarf for her today.”
“Excellent. Pick up something appropriate from my brothers and me. Charge it to my account.”
“Yes, Miss.”
“I’m sorry to ask you to make an additional stop today, Zeah. I had planned on stopping by the docks this afternoon to consult with Captain Gurrman on how much space still remains in the cargo hold and what other equipment that we might need. Unfortunately, my ‘adventure’ pushed those plans completely out of my mind. I need you, after you have completed your other duties, to stop at the docks and complete this mission in my stead. I trust this will not make you late for your daughter’s birthday party.”
“I’m sure it will be fine, Miss.” He said. He well knew that taking a side trip to the docks, in addition to everything else he had to do, would make him miss any birthday celebrations entirely. What he couldn’t figure out was whether Miss Dechantagne didn’t understand the constraints of time on his schedule, or did understand and simply didn’t care.Zeah left the house on foot. Anyone else might have called the abode a mansion, or a manse, or possibly even a palace, but Miss Dechantagne called it a house, and so it was a house. He walked with the brisk pace of a much younger man. He could have taken the steam carriage if he had wanted. Miss Dechantagne would have allowed it without a second thought. He had her complete confidence, as his family had held the complete confidence of her family for five generations. But he had never learned to drive, and he was too old to learn now. It didn’t matter. With the breadth of the horse-drawn trolley system in the great city, under normal conditions, he didn’t have to have to walk very far. Going to the docks in the evening would complicate things of course. He had carefully planned out his journey in his mind, to minimize his travel time and allow him the efficiency that always gave him comfort. He would follow that plan to the exact step. The first stop had to be the bank, and so he traveled due west.

Woo Hoo!

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I finished! Just completed: “His Robot Girlfriend”, my fifth novel. I am so jazzed. I think I’m even jazzed enough to send out “The Steel Dragon” manuscript to a new group of prospective agents.

Hopefully by the time you read this, I will have a link on the right hand side of the page to a pdf download and a print copy of the new book. I’m going to put them up right away, but be aware that this may not be the final copy (just the 12th or 13th draft). If you download and read it or buy it and read it and find any errors or you have suggestions, feel free to send them my way.

The Steel Dragon – Chapter 2 Excerpt

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Iolanthe Dechantagne held onto the bedpost with both hands, while her dressing maid Yuah pulled with all her might on the lacings of Iolanthe’s new Prudence Plus Fairy bust form corset. When the two sets of lacing holes reached as close a proximity as they were likely to, Yuah jerked the lacings down, pulling them into the crimping holes, so that they would stay tight until she managed to tie them into one of her patented infallible knots. Only when this knot, immotile as any which anchored a battleship to a dock, was tied, did Iolanthe let out her breath. Though still able to fasten her own bustle around her waist, the beautiful young woman was now helpless to bend over and pull on her own stockings, so Yuah carefully rolled each of the expensive silk garments up a leg, fastening it at the top to the several suspenders hanging down from the corset. Then Iolanthe stepped into her shoes, which were alligator skin high-tops with four inch heels. The maid kneeled down once again, this time to fasten each shoe’s twenty four buttons, using a button hook.

“The white, pin-striped dress today?” asked Yuah.

“No. I wore that just last week.”

“The chantilly dress?”

“Yes, I think.”

Yuah brought over the dress. Yards of sheer black lace overlaid a pink silk base that was as smooth as lotion. The dressing maid helped Iolanthe put her arms through the sleeveless shoulders and then fastened the dress up behind her. Then she helped her on with the matching jacket. Though the dress was sleeveless and had a fairly low neckline, the jacket had long sleeves with puffs of black lace at the end, and fastened all the way up and around Iolanthe’s long, thin neck. The hat that went with this ensemble was a black straw boater, and like so much of Iolanthe’s hat collection, imitated a man’s style. But in addition to the black lace veil hanging down to below her neck all the way around, the top of this boater was decorated with a dozen pink and black flowers and a small, stuffed bird. She wore no rings on her fingers or ears, but draped a cameo necklace carefully across her bosom.

Iolanthe turned and looked at herself in the floor-length cheval glass. The cameo necklace, the hat, jacket, dress, shoes and stockings, and the Prudence Plus fairy bust form corset were only the finishing touches of a process which had taken the first two hours of the morning. A hot bath and shampoo had come first, followed by shaving her body (with straight razor), and then applying four different types of body lotion and body powder. Next was a careful facial, culminating in the retouching of her very thin, carefully arched brows. Styling her long auburn hair into a bun, and constructing small ringlets with a curling iron to frame her face, had next occupied her. Then she had donned her panties, her bloomers, her underbrassier, her brassier, and her camisole. Yuah had careful manicured her fingernails and pedicured her toes. Finally came rouge, eye shadow, mascara, and lipstick—just enough to look as though she didn’t need any and thus had worn none—painted on with the care and attention to detail of the finest portrait artist .

“You look beautiful, Miss.”

“Yes, I know.”

“Will there be anything else, Miss?”

“No.”

Yuah left and Iolanthe continued to stare at herself for several moments in the mirror. Once she had decided that everything was perfect, she hyperventilated for a minute, before leaving. Doing so allowed her to make it all the way down to the steam carriage without having to gasp for breath, despite the small inhalations allowed by the Prudence Plus fairy bust form corset, though doing so exacerbated the possibility of her fainting. Women frequently fainted in Brech. It was just part of the cost of fashion.

The house that the Dechantagne family owned in the Old City was a large, square, four story building occupying most of a city block. It was so large in fact, that two thirds of the rooms were unused, the furniture covered by white linen drop cloths, and the doors kept locked. Iolanthe had been tempted to sell the house, as she had much of the family’s other city properties, but then, finding a new place to live would have occupied far too much of her time, and she doubted that any place she found would have been appropriate for entertaining the class of people that she had needed to entertain during the past year. Since she had been essentially forced to keep it, she had spent considerable money modernizing the portions that she used. Houses built three hundred years before did not have the benefits of indoor plumbing, and there was no way that she would go without her bath tub, or for that matter, a modern flushing toilet. Stairs were fine as well, for making a grand entrance, but for the everyday up and down of three flights, an elevator was a must. Then there were the dumbwaiters, the gas lights, and the upgraded kitchen. The only thing that hadn’t needed to be improved were the servants’ quarters, which were more than adequate.

Iolanthe walked from her spacious boudoir, stepping through the bed chamber, which was to her mind three or four times too large to be kept at a comfortable temperature, and then out into the hallway. The hallway was lined with large and small framed mirrors, so that she could have admired herself many times on her way out, had she chosen to do so. She did not. At the end of the hallway, she entered the elevator which awaited her. She did not need to look at or address the young man of the household staff who controlled the elevator car. He knew what to do. Exiting the elevator on the ground floor, she walked through the spacious foyer, past the great sweeping staircase. She swept right on out the front door, not even needing to slow, as the head butler Zeah was there to open the door and hand her a parasol to match her outfit.

At the bottom of the steps, another young man of the household staff waited with the steam carriage running. He had already filled the tank with water and the fire box with coal, at least she assumed he had, and if he hadn’t there would be hell to pay. Placing her high-heeled foot upon the running board, she stepped up into the seat, taking half a moment to make sure that she didn’t squash her bustle as she sat down. Then releasing the brake with her right hand and stepping on the forward accelerator with her right foot, she zoomed away from the curb, sending a dozen pedestrians diving one way or the other.

Her first stop of the day was the telegraph office in the great plaza, just across from Café Carlo, where she frequently had a light luncheon or tea. It was a short drive, almost no time at all before she pushed the decelerator, pulled the brake, and came to a stop in front of the building that must have once been glassblower’s shop or a bakery or some such, since telegraphs had not been invented when the structures around the plaza had been built. Now that she thought about it, the wooden poles leading away from the telegraph office were somewhat unsightly among the ornate stone and marble buildings. The government had even made an attempt to make the gas streetlamps attractive. The telegraph poles were just oily looking wooden sticks. Still, she supposed they were necessary. Stepping down from the steam carriage, she walked around to the rear of the vehicle and turned the steam cock, so that nothing as unfortunate as a boiler explosion would bother her while she took care of business. Then she made her entrance into the telegraph office.

The office was dark, despite having a very large window in its front wall. All of the walls were paneled with a very dark wood and were completely unornamented except for six brass gas lantern sconces. Two large wooden desks sat at odds with one another. In front of each, sat two uncomfortable looking chairs, and behind each sat a man with a stiff white collar and a green visor. Iolanthe stood holding her unused parasol in her hands and her chin high in the air, until both men in green visors jumped from their seats, ran around the desks to pull out a chair for her.

“Miss Dechantagne!”

“Miss Dechantagne!”

She chose the chair held by the older of the two men. He was about fifty, slightly fat around the middle, and was wearing a cheap wedding ring. Both men returned to their positions behind their desks, the older, slightly fat man with a look of triumph upon his face, the younger man with a look of dejection.

“My telegrams?” she said.

“Of course, Miss Dechantagne.” He produced them from a rack at the back of the room as if he had been waiting for her entrance all day, which he probably had. There were five. She read each of them carefully.

Telegram One:
My Dear Miss Dechantagne.
Will visit city three days hence. Would very much like to meet you for tea. Anxiously await your reply.
Prof. Merced Calliere, University Ponte-a-Verne.

Telegram Two:
My Dearest Miss Dechantagne.
Found you as ever, delightful, at the Opera. I still say you have the loveliest eyes ever. Can’t stop thinking about them. Would love to have you for tea.
Jolon Bendrin

Telegram Three:
Sister.
Have found two wizards that may be of some use. Need six thousand marks to settle personal accounts. Also have a girl for you to meet. Get something for Yuah’s birthday.
Augie.

Telegram Four:
Miss.
Finished closing up the house. Local business attended to. Personal baggage to arrive in three days. Staff and details will follow in five days. Your directions followed.
Macy.

Telegram Five:
Iolanthe.
Mustering out before the twelfth. Hope plans are going well. Have a full company. Leaving the rest in your hands.
Terrence.

“Take down my replies, please,” said Iolanthe.

“To Professor Merced Calliere, University Ponte-a-Verne, Regencia. My Dear Professor. I anxiously await your visit. I am understandably excited to see the results of your work. I insist that you stay with us at the house. I will meet you at station myself. Of course, we will have tea together. Very sincerely, I. Dechantagne.

“To Mister Jolon Bendrin, Bentin, Cordwell. Mister Bendrin. Never contact me again. I do not accept invitations from men who think themselves entitled to take liberties. If your face is seen within my circle of acquaintances, and my brother does not shoot you, I will do so myself. Very sincerely, I Dechantagne.

“To Lieutenant Augustus Dechantagne, Bentin Cordwell. Augie. I am sending you five thousand marks to settle accounts, as I am sure you have exaggerated your needs by at least twenty percent. Leave the girl. I am well aware of your peccadilloes. Make sure not to leave any loose ends. Bring the wizards. If you see Jolon Bendrin while you are there, you may shoot him. Your Sister. I. Dechantagne.

“To Macy Godwin, Shopton, Mont Dechantagne. Good. I. Dechantagne.

“To Captain Terrence Dechantagne, Dorridgeville, Booth. I have secured munitions and equipment. Send your company directly to the ship. Expedite your return if possible. Your expertise is needed. Iolanthe.

“Do you have all of that?”

“Yes, Maam,” replied the telegraph operator. “You know, we can abbreviate these messages and save five pfennigs per word.”

Iolanthe gave him a withering look, until he dropped his eyes to the desktop.

“Grammar is so very important,” she said. “My man will be by to settle accounts.”
She stood up and started for the door. The younger man, who had been waiting across the room for just this moment, jumped up and rushed to the door so quickly, that he knocked over his own chair along the way. With a look of utmost triumph, he opened the door for her. She rewarded him with a nod of her head, and stepped outside. Turning the steam cock to its original position once again, she climbed back aboard the carriage and started once again on her way.