These Hungry Dogs [sample]

01

DEATH ARRIVED on the gates of Bohrganz manor. They were the Nascherein, and they were more of them now, filling the street with their black cloaks and silver rifles. Leon watched them through the window, drinking riesling.

The sparking, sweet taste filled his tongue, half mused by the idea of seeing how chaotic the streets in Keichsfaer became. Eventually, the soldiers gathered by the gates left again, Leon thought it was troubling to see how this was a normal occurrence.

Something's not quite right. The words wandered aimlessly from Leon's mouth. A mantra he formed after his Mistress vanished months ago.

He recalled following the woman across Hollenzwei Street, slipping his hands to the loose pocket of his trousers. Despite his attempt, he was distracted by the imperial soldiers coming his way, and lost sight of his Mistress. That was the last time he saw her.

It was not the first he tried to follow his Mistress from a distance. She acted strangely the past months; she was rarely seen running her brothel nor her office. But she left him an order, never to step outside the Rose Den.

"I will be gone for a few days. Nessa will be in charge," Mistress Niebuhr said, slipping out of the brothel. True to her words, she did not return and her office was left empty.

Weeks had passed, and still it worried him that no one bothered to ask, to search for her.

Shaking away the bitter memory, he slipped into his old shirt, turned to look at the sleeping girl on the bed. He roused her gently, gazing down at Helena as she blinked her eyes. Her brows furrowed, shielding away from the light seeping from the window.

She took a good look at Leon and frowned. "What's with the sulking?" she asked, reaching to his face, and in return, he kissed her hand.

"I have been wondering," Leon told her, his voice barely a whisper.

Then with a sigh, she sat up. "Don't tell me you're thinking about the soldiers," Helena said. "There's nothing to worry about, please, it will ruin your beauty. Ah, where's Oleksy?"

Leon wasn't happy at that, but he feigned a smile for Helena. As if it was on cue, he heard voices coming behind the closed door. Perhaps speaking in anger. "There's your answer."

Helena swiftly climbed out from her bed, and the blanket slipped from her body, revealing her naked form. She banged the door with her fist, and leaned in. "Oleksy, come in here. You're not arguing with Lord Bohrganz are you?"

"Just a minute, dear," a grunt relayed back, and there were more voices, much louder this time. Something about the plague and the empire.

Leon froze, holding his breath as he tried to listen in. It was not common to hear the plague as it had instilled terror across his city. Many of the entrances were barred under the command of the imperial soldiers the emperor had sent. Still, his mind was unsettled, the mysterious outbreak of ironskin rose from the eastern side of the slums. Many believed it was a terrible omen from the gods, punishing Alter Vater, the Old Father, for his inconsistencies. For those who contacted the ironskin met a painful death.