Farewell Antafrica

There was a feast that night, to celebrate the reunion of the von Hedwigs and the fall of the Lycopersine House, but mostly because there were still over a hundred people milling around Lady Aubergine’s cottage, and they must be fed. By the time the von Hedwig family returned from the beach preparations were well underway.

They had little to contribute, but Madame von Hedwig talked one of the farmers into giving her a bag of dinner-plate sized mushrooms, which she marinated with supplies from the Racer and roasted over an open fire. The Antafrican farmers observed the fire from a distance, which showed to Claire’s content that “They’re far more sensible than anyone at the palace.”

The roasted mushrooms were quite popular with those who tried them. Those who would not try them were generally of the opinion that since none of their ancestors had cooked food, there was no sense starting now. Lady Aubergine was most impressed.

“I know twenty-seven methods of preparing those particular mushrooms,” she said, “and yet have never achieved a flavor I like so well as this. And you prepare all your food like this?”

Madame began describing all the ways in which heat was employed in cuisine while the twins translated between bites.

“Are cheeses prepared with fire?” Lady Aubergine had been fascinated by the twins’ cheeses.

“No, I don’t believe so. They are fermented, like wine and beer. Or is cultured the word?”

This led to another lengthy and complicated discussion, during which Claire was called in to help translate and Bettina fell asleep in her mother’s lap. Madame reached down to stroke her curls and found another hand there before her. Lady Aubergine pulled her hand away at once.

“I beg your pardon” she said.

“I have not thanked you yet for all you’ve done for my children,” Madame replied. “And I can see that you are as fond of them as they are of you. We are in your debt.”
At that moment her husband and Captain Charette joined them.

“The Captain believes that rather than try through the tunnels, we should fly straight through the cloud cover towards the Australian shipping channels. Get picked up by a steamer and buy fuel to make it back to Nepal. We don’t have enough make it back as it is, especially with the extra weight. She thinks we can take all the children, and capture Montesanto, and still have enough lift to skim over the waves to help.”

“No.”

Herr von Hedwig looked at his wife, whose lips had not moved.

“I beg your pardon?”

“No,” repeated Lady Aubergine. “You will not have room for the prisoner Count. You have room for me.”

“You wish to come with us?”

“Yes. To eat succulent cheeses. To cook food and drink wine. And to take care of your children.”

“I am perfectly capable of-”” Madame broke off, looking into the eyes of Lady Aubergine, then to her children. The children, sensing something momentous, clustered around.
Madame looked to her husband and some unspoken communication passed between them. “I have found that one can never have too many people who love one’s children,” she said. “Shall we invite Lady Aubergine aboard, children?”

The children cheered and yes-very-muched and hugged Eglantine and Mother and Father and Captain Charette, for although they had only just met her they already liked her, mostly for how often she smiled, or in Adolphus’ case, because she owned the ship he wanted more than anything else in the world. All the noise and jostling woke Bettina. She cried and was grumpy until Adolphus scooped her up and sang his obscene Italian lullaby to her. Father had to pull on his mustache, which he did when he was trying to look stern, and Captain Charette laughed so hard she fell off her chair.

“Well,” Mother huffed, “That’s another crime on Montesanto’s account. We can’t take the children back to Venice with them talking like that.”