19 - Retail Therapy
"I'm so excited!" Eva exclaimed, bouncing up and down on her toes. The younger girl was wearing a pair of cut-down army fatigues she'd found in the crates full of supplies in the belly of the hauler. Eva grabbed at Tamara's arm. "Tamara, Tamara, you have to let me help you pick out something to wear. I have never helped anyone buy a dress before."
"Have you ever bought a dress yourself?" Tamara asked skeptically.
"Well, no," Eva admitted. "I never really left Baba Yaga's cottage until now. The few times we did trade with trappers and hunters don't count as shopping. They were too terrified to do any real bargaining, and Baba Yaga never got me anything nice. She made my clothes herself from things people left us to try to keep her from cursing their cows or stealing their babies."
"Does she steal babies?" Tamara asked.
"I don't know. Never that I saw," Eva frowned. "Though, I guess I never did ask her where I came from." An unsettled look passed over the young girl's face. "I guess I never really thought about it before."
"That's enough," Angelica said. "Countess Veronica will be here soon."
"A real countess," Eva breathed. "Here to take us shopping and pay for it. This is my lucky day."
"I'm not sure this ball is a good idea," Hannah said nervously.
The four women were waiting outside the barracks they had been assigned by the Hungarians. It was a roomy, spacious cottage with bunks enough for a dozen. Three identical barracks in a row with it were housing for the men, but the girls had one all to themselves. As they watched, Sergeant Golem stomped out of one of the barracks and around the corner of the building, his head down, looking intent on whatever it was he was doing.
Angelica was worried about the things he'd told her from the day before, the code words in his head and the man who’d asked him their secrets, but there were so many things on her plate right now, she was having trouble keeping track of all of them.
"Ambassador Mazur says this ball is vital," Angelica told the others. "We've got to shore up relations with the Hungarians. The Russian envoy is trying to persuade them to sign a non-aggression pact. It's probably a trap, but we can't allow the possibility that it's real. If we lose the Hungarians, our whole southern border is at risk. We can't fight a multi-sided war."
"And a ball is going to help with that?" Hannah asked, raising an eyebrow. "Angelica, you've done great. Really, you have, but our focus needs to be on getting back to Poland and connecting up with a larger force. What are we even doing out here? We're down three members. If we get attacked by a real enemy battalion, we don't have a chance. Not without a lot more support people and properly trained girls." She flickered her eyes at Eva and Tamara.
"Hey," Eva said, scowling. She planted her fists on her hips and stuck out her lower lip. "Are you being dismissive of me or my mech? Because I'll have you know, I might be young and he might be old, but between the two of us, we're a match for any pair."
"It's not that," Hannah protested.
"He killed some of those Wraith soldiers!”
"Yes, I know," Hannah said desperately. "But, well, you aren't trained, are you?"
"Tamara is," Eva said.
"But what Hannah means," Tamara interjected, "is that she does not fully trust me. I understand." She shrugged and flipped her hair back over her shoulder. "Until we have fought together, and I have proven myself, I am still a bit of an unknown. I thought perhaps my demonstration in the valley against the Russian artillery would be enough to at least convince you that I truly am on your side, Hannah."
"I... well..." Hannah looked miserable. "It's not that I don't trust you.”
“But you have heard many things about Cossacks, and you do not like them, yes?" Tamara asked.
Hannah was clearly on the verge of tears. Angelica interceded. "Listen, we're all tired, worried, frightened, out of our depths. Tamara and Eva have both shown themselves to be worthy allies, but we aren't used to fighting together yet. We'll get there." Though she was not at all sure what would happen once they got back to Polish lines and had a real chain of command. A paroled Cossack and a little girl who claimed to be Baba Yaga's daughter were not exactly the sort of people you usually found in a Hussar regiment.
Then again, it was well-established precedent: Any girl found who could bond a mech was inducted into the army, given a commission and a small title, and set to work fighting the Russians, or the Germans, or the Austrians, or the Hungarians, or whoever it was decided they were going to make Poland into their personal playground this week. Their willingness to induct any girl with the skill was one of those things that gave the Polish army an edge against larger foes.
"Oh, look," Eva said, pointing. "That must be Veronica."
An open-top phaeton, red as a sunset, pulled into the packed dirt yard in front of the barracks. From behind the wheel, Countess Veronica waved merrily. She had a bright yellow scarf wrapped around her neck and wore a pale blue coat beneath it.
"There you are," she said cheerfully. "Well, pile in, girls, and we'll be off."
Angelica eyed the car dubiously. Her experience with vehicles was limited to military ones, such as the scout car or the hauler. Eva squealed and hopped into the front seat next to Veronica.
"Lieutenant Angelica on the other side, and you two ladies can pile into the back," Veronica said. "Hannah, I know, but the others?"
"I'm Eva," Eva said cheerfully, smiling up at the countess.
Veronica frowned. "You have an interesting accent. It's not quite Polish."
"I'm not quite Polish," Eva said. "I'm Baba Yaga's runaway daughter."
Veronica's eyes went wide. "Are you?" she said. There was a purr in her voice. "How old are you?"
"Thirteen, I think," Eva said.
"Yes, that makes sense," Veronica said, nodding. "Well, we have much to talk about, my dear. And you?" She turned and leaned over the seat to smile at Tamara.
"I am Tamara.”
“And by your accent, you're Ukrainian?"
Tamara lifted her chin. “I’m Cossack. From the Don Sich.”
Veronica turned to Angelica. "Where did you pick up such delightful recruits, my dear?"
"On the road from Rzeszow."
"I see we have much to talk about." Veronica stepped on the gas and the car lurched into motion. She spun the car around and left the exercise yard in a cloud of dust. Eva leaned over Angelica and waved as they passed Sergeant Golem, stomping his way along. "See you later, Sergeant Golem!"
His look of surprise was worth whatever else this adventure cost. Angelica wasn't used to a golem capable of as much expression as the sergeant could manage. But even so, this was more surprise than she thought him capable of.
"We'll be back after lunch!" Angelica shouted as they left the sergeant behind.
They roared out of the military staging area and along the streets of Budapest, clattering along cobbled roads.
"But of course," Veronica said, "put yourself in my hands, my dears, and we shall see you dressed as you truly deserve to be."
Angelica held on for dear life as Veronica rounded one tight bend and zoomed up a narrow street between tall buildings. At last, she yanked the car to a stop.
"Here we are. High Street. Let's go shopping."
By the fourth stop, Angelica was heartily sick of trying on dresses. It wasn't so much the trying on; it was a little bit fun to put on something ruffled with bright pastel colors and silk or light cotton, to feel a skirt twirling around her bare legs, and to allow herself to imagine an evening of dancing. It had been so long since she'd worn anything except a uniform. No, the problem was that Veronica kept insisting that while that dress was truly divine, they could certainly do better, bundling them back into their ordinary clothes, out of one shop and over to the next. Even Eva was getting tired of it.
When they left the fourth shop, Veronica said, "Madame Persaud's is just up the street."
Eva stopped dead.
"Can we have a break and some lunch, and then maybe go back to the second shop we visited? That purple dress was beautiful, and I think it might suit me."
"Well… Lunch is a good idea," Veronica said. "I know the perfect place."
She swept them along, pushing her way through the crowds of people shopping. Angelica was very glad that someone else was footing the bill. None of the stores had had prices displayed anywhere, and from the look of the people that they saw shopping on this street, the dresses were going to cost more than her year's salary.
Veronica brought them to a little café on the corner. Small tables dotted the sidewalk, overlooking the river that cut through the city of Budapest. Once seated, Veronica waved as they took two tables and seated themselves.
"This was Buda and over there, Pest. We have become one since. Tell me,” she said to Angelica, who had found herself seated between Veronica and Tamara, to her discomfort, "Warsaw. Has it the same old-world charm?"
"I'm not sure," Angelica confessed. "I've never been to Warsaw. I come from a small village outside of Krakow, and that's where I did my training. I've been assigned to the frontiers for the last four years."
"Oh," Veronica's eyes widened. "Then... is this your first real ball?"
"I'm afraid so."
Veronica's eyes widened with alarm as their server brought their tea. She leaned forward in her chair.
"Can you dance?" she hissed.
"Uh..." Angelica floundered. "I can waltz."
It had been part of basic training for Mech Hussars. The girls gotten dancing and magic lessons and not as much of the usual marching and shouting. Angelica's embarrassment was relieved by the arrival of the server with bowls of goulash. She picked up a spoon and dug in. It was delicious, and so was the deep red wine that went with it.
Eva took a bite and closed her eyes in delight. "Ah, it tastes just like Baba used to make."
"Missing the woods, Eva?" Tamara asked.
"No, not at all. I love how I'm finally getting a chance to see the world. I ran away from Baba and then got stuck in that fortress for weeks and weeks. It was getting so old, but I was afraid that the Russians would catch me if I went out again. Now here I am, safe in Budapest."
Veronica's eyebrows raised. "The Russians wanted you, child? Why?"
Eva shrugged. "Maybe because I'm Baba Yaga's daughter. If that's who I really am."
Angelica breathed a sigh of relief. She had been afraid the girl would mention the fire-soul. While Angelica still wasn't sure what exactly it was good for, she also didn't want the Hungarians finding out about it. They were here in the heart of Hungarian territory, at the goodwill of the Hungarian regent, surrounded by his military. She couldn't afford a fight over a precious treasure of Baba Yaga's, but she had no intention of giving it up. Whatever it did, it might prove to be key to turn the tide of this war in Poland's favor. Why else would the Red Widow be so eager to get her hands on it?
"This is very good," Tamara said, poking at her goulash. "It reminds me of a spicy lamb stew my grandmother used to make."
"Your people are still largely nomads, are they not?" Veronica asked. "My people were once brave steppe nomads who put the fear of the Hun in all of Europe, but we have grown soft in recent centuries. Many of us cannot even ride a horse, if you can believe that.”
Angelic had owned a horse as a girl, but most her friends hadn’t. She found it pretty arrogant to think everyone who mattered should know how to ride. But, she wanted to stay on Veronica's good side so she only laughed politely.
The regent's daughter could prove a powerful ally, but Angelica was eager to get out of Hungary. As soon as this business with the ambassador was concluded, they would need to find a safe path back home. She ached to get back into the fight and to have someone higher up than her in the chain of command.
Veronica had turned to ask Hannah a question, and Angelica's attention drifted. There was a barge floating down the river in front of them, and an automobile driving up the street rather fast. Her attention caught. There were rather a lot of men piled into that open automobile, wild-eyed, with fierce beards and brandishing weapons.
"Get down!" Angelica shouted. She shoved Eva to one side as the men in the car opened fire. Another carload came skidding around the opposite corner. They were boxed in on two sides, squarely in a crossfire. The men, who she now noted all wore the same sort of red fezzes, shouted something fierce in a language she didn't recognize, then repeated in German, "Death to the collaborators! Death to the Austrian toadies!"
Angelica threw herself at Veronica, knocking her to the ground. Tamara overturned the table. The girls crouched behind it as the madmen fired. Bullets ricocheted off the pavement and brick facade of the restaurant behind them. Glass shattered and tinkled to the ground.
The table wasn't going to stop any bullets. Angelica drew her sidearm. She raised it over the edge of the table and fired at the men in the car.
No bullets had gotten through their table, which seemed preposterous until Angelica saw how Hannah had her hands extended. She was shielding them with her magic. Her spirits restored a little, Angelica grabbed her spare magazine out of her belt pouch, slapped it in, and fired again.
Tamara leapt over the tabletop, cartwheeling in a spinning whirl of arms and legs. She drew a saber and charged at the men on the nearest car. Meanwhile, Veronica picked herself up and calmly, from under her voluminous skirts, produced a handgun of her own and started firing back.
"Chetnik dogs!" she shouted. "You will see how a daughter of Hungary deals with spies and traitors!"
Eva was screaming, but not in terror. She seized one of the fallen bowls of goulash and hurled it at the carload of men. The food splattered over them and the dish hit the driver square in the face. He fell to the side and must have set his foot on the gas because the car lurched forward, straight into the other load of insurgents.
"Quick!" Angelica shouted. "Into the restaurant! They'll have a back way out!"
"I will not leave these sons of dogs alive!" Veronica shouted, but Angelica was already shoving her and Eva toward the door of the restaurant.
"Hannah, hurry up!" she shouted. "Tamara!"
Tamara was over at the car, stabbing. She had already killed one of the attackers and was dueling another who had drawn a sword from his walking stick. Tamara gave a snort and broke away, dashing back to the restaurant. She followed Veronica inside. Angelica pushed Hannah through the door, then ducked in herself.
The restauranteur was pressed up against a wall, his jowled face white with terror. "What is this? Who are they?"
"Just some lunatic terrorists," Veronica said. She looked fit to be tied. "My father will have a word with whoever let them slip the leash. Never fear."
"My restaurant!" the man moaned.
"Your damages will be paid for," Veronica said haughtily. "Where is your back door?"
The man raised one shaking finger and pointed. Veronica strode for it, her head held high, even as gunfire riddled the opening of the shattered windows.
"And where is my bodyguard?" she raged as they stepped out into the alleyway.
"Bodyguard?" Angelica asked. She hadn't seen anyone like that all day.
"Yes, they were supposed to keep a discreet distance, but this is much too—" A squad of men rushed past the entrance to the alleyway, clad in royal Hungarian uniforms and carrying rifles with bayonets fixed to them. Veronica slumped against the brick wall of the alley. "I'm going to have to have words with their commander about their response time. Now, we'll just wait here, and once they've cleaned up, we'll go to Madame Pichard's."
Angelica gaped at her. "After all that, we're still going shopping?"
"Well," Veronica said reasonably, "you still have nothing to wear to the ball, and it's tomorrow night. You'll need to have time to have whatever you buy altered. Madame Pichard is the best at making sure a ball gown can accommodate a discreet knife or gun or three." She smiled warmly at Angelica. "And now that I have met all of you, I think it is safe to say none of you would wish to attend such an event unarmed. So, yes, she is the most expensive, but she is the best. We will go there, as soon as this little matter is taken care of, of course."
A pair of the terrorists raced past the alleyway entrance, their fezzes missing. Angelica grabbed Hannah by the arm and dragged her out of the alley.
"Stop!" she shouted. Hannah caught on. She raised her hands and produced a barrier right in front of where the men were running. They bounced off it hard. Hannah winced.
"That's not what it's meant for," she grumbled, as Angelica raced up to the men. She planted a foot on one's chest, while Veronica followed behind, her pistol leveled at the second man.
"You two wait right here," Angelica growled.
Veronica raised her voice. "Guards! Guards!" A moment later, a pair of the Hungarian soldiers appeared. Veronica gestured imperiously with her left hand, keeping her pistol trained on the prisoners with her right.
"Here, we've just been cleaning up for you."
"Thank you, Your Excellency," they mumbled, and came forward to take the two men into custody.
"How many have you secured?"
"Most of them, my lady. Two got away, but we'll have these questioned and find the rest. They won't be able to go to ground in this city."
"Good." Veronica drew a knife that Angelica hadn't known she was carrying. As the guards raised the terrorists to their feet, she stepped in and set her knife just below the jawline of one of them.
"Was it the Russians behind this?" she hissed. "Are they stirring up trouble again?"
The man stared at her defiantly. "Hungary is a pawn of the Austrians. So long as you allow yourselves to be used, we shall bring the war to your doorstep."
Veronica spat. "Pah! Foolish pigs. They know nothing. They will have little of use, but drain them of it, nevertheless," she ordered the soldiers. "Take them away. My friends and I will be at Madame Pichard's. See to it that there's no repeat of this disturbance."
Three hours later, as Angelica was standing very still with her arms raised over her head, being sewn into a pale pink silk monstrosity that had literal ropes of pearls decorating the bodice, she rather wished that the terrorists had mounted another attack after all. At least she had the satisfaction of seeing Tamara across from her, suffering the same indignities in forest green.
"How are you holding up?" she asked her Cossack ally.
"Badly," Tamara said gloomily. "I did not have time to properly clean my sword. At this rate, it will rust before I'm able to take the blood off."
Angelica laughed. "Don't do that," the assistant who was pinning up her skirts scolded. "Now, it will take me an extra fifteen minutes to finish what you have just ruined."
"Sorry," Angelica whispered.
"Lieutenant," Tamara said. “May I speak?”
"When we're standing in a dress shop, getting fitted for a ball, it's Angelica. And yes."
"Angelica, then. You have a good head in a crisis. I am eager to see real battle at your side."
"You too," Angelica said, and she meant it. Any doubts she had had about Tamara's eagerness to fight had vanished the moment she leapt for the car full of terrorists. "But may I ask, how do you feel about dancing?"
Tamara grinned wickedly, her eyes sparkled. "I do not think anyone in Hungary has seen a Cossack dance. At least, not at a ball. You shall not want to miss it. Do not sneak out before I have had a chance to show off."
"I wouldn't sneak out," Angelica said. "I know my duty at a ball is to stand there all night and look pretty.”
“Oh, but if a young lord with blue eyes and a handsome manner were to ask you to dance, and then ask you to dance again, and then ask you for a drink, and then ask you for a walk in the garden, you would say no?"
Angelica just stared. Tamara smiled and shrugged. "But as I say, wait until after you have seen me dance."