Secrets of the New World (Infini Calendar) (Volume 2) (13 page)

She headed to the bridge to await the report from her subordinates. Within minutes there was a clacking from the telegraph console and a single sheet of paper crawled out. Deschanel ripped it free and examined it. The message was brief, simply mentioning the places where Farahilde Johanna and the President’s secretary had gone that day.

She quickly fired back a response. She ordered them to notify her when the two women stopped some place with less than excellent lighting.

Chapter IX: Konnichi Wa—Ima, Anata wa Shinde Imasu!

Potomac Park, Washington, December 12, 1792 (Infini Calendar), 7:03 p.m.

After sundown, Jeanne took Farahilde to a wedge-shaped island south of the President’s Palace—and in a body of water known as the Washington Channel—called Potomac Park. As it turned out, this was the area Farahilde and Frederick had seen upon their arrival to Washington, the place with strange-clothed people and lanterns strung across the trees. Said trees had petals of a light red or pinkish hue. Jeanne explained that these trees were called
sakura
, or cherry blossoms. This island was the only place in America where the sakuras grew. This was because they had been brought here from the island nation of Japan by Potomac Park’s residents, Japanese immigrants who had come to the United States, partly because they were interested in adventure, but also as a defiant response to their country’s isolationist policies.

Wooden ramshackle houses lined the perimeter of Potomac Park, but on this night the residents were gathered in the center of the island for their annual Fuyuki Festival. According to Jeanne, the event was held to celebrate the passing of the seasons and to honor their ancestors. That last part, at least, Farahilde could appreciate. She made it a point to keep her own ancestors’ memories alive inside her.

The Fuyuki Festival consisted of a multitude of booths, most of which offered either games or assorted foods. The booths were labeled using characters Farahilde didn’t recognize.

As they walked among the booths, Farahilde asked Jeanne, “Why do they all wear robes?”

“They’re called kimonos. It’s simply the style where they come from.”

“The ki-mo-nos are certainly fancy, I’ll give them that.”

Suddenly Jeanne said, “So, you’re engaged. I would never have picked you as the type to settle down.” Frederick had stayed back at the President’s Palace to observe Leopold’s negotiations with George Washington. Farahilde had little doubt this was why Jeanne had chosen now to bring up the subject of her arranged marriage.

“Ugh. Please don’t remind me, fräulein.”

“He seems very well-mannered. The opposite of you,” Jeanne laughed.

Farahilde rolled her eyes. “He’s boring. Always going on about what his father taught him. I wonder if he has any thoughts of his own.”

“Everyone has their own thoughts. Sometimes it just takes a while for them to come out.”

A Japanese woman in an ornate blue kimono waved at them up ahead. “
Mery-san!
”

Jeanne waved back. “
Kyoko-san! Konban wa!
”

The Japanese woman ran up to Jeanne and bowed politely. “
Konban wa. Genki?
”

“
Genki
,” Jeanne replied.

Farahilde’s eyes darted between the two of them quizzically. “You know their language, fräulein?”

Jeanne explained, “It shouldn’t surprise you. Growing up in a house of nobility, I received only the best education. That, combined with the amount of time I’ve spent in this country, enabled me to learn a few of the languages spoken here. Oh—this is Kyoko, a friend of mine.” She then addressed Kyoko. “
Kore wa watashi no tomodachi desu. Farahilde Johanna desu.
”

Kyoko looked a tad too excited, but maybe that was just how her people were. “
Ah, hajimemashite!
”

“What did she say?”

“She said it’s nice to meet you.”

“Oh. Uh…likewise.”

Jeanne translated Farahilde’s lackluster reply. “
Farahilde mo ‘hajimemashite’ toitte imashita
.”

Kyoko bowed to Farahilde and then said to Jeanne, “
Tomodachi wa Amerika-jin desu ka?
”

“
Iie. Austria-jin desu.
”

“
Ohstria!
Omoshiroi da ne.”

Farahilde didn’t know what they were saying, though she definitely heard the word “Austria,” so they must have been talking about her. “You’re not saying anything unflattering about me, are you, fräulein?”

“Fortunately for you, I haven’t yet learned the words for ‘insane’ and ‘reckless’. She simply asked me your nationality and I told her.”

Kyoko must have been interested in something Farahilde said, because she asked, “‘
Fu-roh-rein’ wa nani desu ka?
”

“What did she say?”

“She wants to know what a ‘fräulein’ is. Let’s see…
ano…kore wa…onna desu
.”

Kyoko seemed satisfied by Jeanne’s answer, but she quickly changed gears. “
Mitte! Mitte!
” She grabbed Jeanne and dragged her off to one of the booths they had passed earlier.  Farahilde shrugged and went off in the opposite direction, wanting to check out the other booths. She soon stopped in front of one that seemed to involve bringing a hammer down onto a tiny see-saw in order to launch a rubber frog into a small cup.

While she was looking at this, something suddenly struck the lantern hanging next to the booth. It went out and a shadow was cast over the immediate area. She turned her attention to where the lantern was and narrowly avoided a sharp object thrown at her head. “What the hell?” she yelled.

She was further alarmed by a cloaked figure which jumped out of the darkness at her.

***

Farahilde was yelling about something. Jeanne turned away from the booth Kyoko had been showing her, and there was Farahilde perhaps fifty feet away being attacked by a mysterious figure. “Farahilde!”

She was about to rush over there when two more mystery assailants jumped out from behind the booth she was at and grabbed her. The largest one got her from behind in a bear hug. He was definitely strong; maybe not as strong as Pierre but he still held her in a vice-like grip, pinning her arms to her sides. “Unhand me, you rogues!” She said in English.

The smaller one said in French, “Shut that bitch up. She’s annoyin’.”

The large man who held Jeanne replied, “Our orders are to keep her from interfering. I’m not going to hurt a woman if I have a choice.”

So these two were French. That narrowed it down significantly. They had to be Deschanel’s lackeys. “Well, now,” she said using her own French, “
I
have a choice!” Using all the force she could muster, she drove the back of her head into the big man’s nose. He grunted in pain but did not let go, so she did it again. This time there was a crack and he released her.

“Too bad for you, I aint as nice as him,” the other man said. He reached into his cloak and pulled out a dagger. He came at her with it, but her years of combat experience kicked in, and she side-stepped the attack. Simultaneously, she brought her hand down on the wrist holding the dagger and, using her other hand, thrust her palm upwards, catching him in the chin. He stumbled backwards.

“‘Too bad’ is right,” the big man said with strained patience. “If you insist on fighting us, we’ll have to take you down.”

“Hmph. You fools have no idea who you’re dealing with,” Jeanne replied.

The smaller idiot yelled, “Neither do you!”

Jeanne motioned to both of them. “Then let’s find out, shall we?”

***

Farahilde struggled to avoid the swift and unpredictable attacks of her mystery assailant. Both of the enemy’s hands held stilettos. The enemy clearly favored close-quarters combat. That was OK, though; so did Farahilde.

Fortunately, Farahilde was wearing her latest model of armored gauntlet. This one kept the blades tucked inside it until she flicked her wrist, at which time they emerged. She wasted no time doing this.

The assembled crowd of Japanese settlers quickly dispersed once the fighting started. A few stayed and watched in horror as the life-or-death battle played out before them.

Farahilde’s spirit was more than up for the fight, but while she was in excellent physical condition, she was also rusty. She hadn’t been in a real battle in quite a while. Her reflexes strained to keep up with the sudden demand.

As they circled each other and exchanged slashes and strikes, she noticed Jeanne was also fighting someone. Farahilde couldn’t afford to waste time worrying about her friend; Jeanne was more than capable of handling herself in a fight, and Farahilde needed to stay focused on her own.

The enemy swung at Farahilde’s head, and she just barely managed to dodge the attack—merely getting a superficial wound across her right cheek. She swung back, but the enemy ducked and she only got the hood which was instantly torn to ribbons.

With the attacker’s disguise compromised, he or she ran off into the forested area surrounding the festival grounds. On the way, though, the enemy stumbled and dropped one of the stilettos. Rather than lose time retrieving it, the enemy kept going.

***

Deschanel’s lackeys suddenly retreated into the woods. They had proven better fighters than Jeanne had expected, but she had given a good account of herself nonetheless.

She adjusted her wig—which had come loose during the fight—and ran over to where Farahilde was examining some sort of weapon. “Are you all right?”

“Of course, fräulein. What did you expect?”

Jeanne noted the stiletto. “Did your attacker drop that?”

Farahilde nodded. “I have a pretty idea of who it was.”

“The ones who attacked me were Deschanel’s lackeys. The one who attacked you was probably—”

“Deschanel herself. That scum! She won’t get away with this.”

Jeanne, however, suddenly noticed an engraving on the weapon Farahilde was holding. It was a black skull. “Not good.”

“What is it?”

“I’ve seen that insignia before. It belonged to a secret unit of the French Army.”

“What kind of unit was it?”

“The worst kind. They were known as
Les Ombres Impies
—the Godless Shadows. They specialized in assassinations and other stealth kills. They did the kind of dirty work that could never be made public. I was once offered a position within their ranks. I declined on moral grounds.”

“So what happened to them?”

“King Louis XVI’s conscience eventually caused him to become disgusted with the unit. He ordered it disbanded six years ago. The members of
Les Ombres Impies
were reabsorbed into the French Army. At least, they were supposed to have been. It looks like Napoleon has brought them back.”

“So then Deschanel—”

“Must have been one of them, yes.”

Even if that was true, it didn’t make sense to Farahilde. “But why did she attack me?”