Saffron: Part 2

Saffron: Part 2
By: James Dubeau

Sprinkled about the dining room were a handful of late-night patrons. Romantic starlight dining was an airship mainstay. Solitary candles upon each table should be the only illumination. Their eyes should be locked upon each other while rich deserts would be shared. Nervously each couple avoided eye contact with Lord Hagen. Most people shied away from an agitated lord.

Alone, I entered the dining room. My cousin’s weak willed ways left him in refuge at the bar. His fascination with Saffron had not instilled courage like whiskey had done for me. He would not confront a lord, even if it was to defend her honor.

“Did you not hear me? I said, leave her alone.” I marched across the dining room.

Saffron looked up from the crouched man by her side with terror-filled eyes. Lord Hagen turned and erected himself, his full height towered over me. Olive skin contrasted with a starched white shirt and red bowtie. Black suspenders strained to contain a barrel-sized chest. A heavy black mustache hid his lips as velvety words slipped through. “I have business with this woman.”

I hesitated for a moment under his full height and power. He may be a full foot taller and wider than me but I was not about to turn tail and run. I slipped off my coat and stood toe to toe with the brute. “It sounds like a business which she wants no part of. Why don’t you pay us the niceties and be on your way?”

His meaty paw slammed into my jaw and knocked me across a vacant table. “So that is how you want this to play out,” I pulled myself off the floor and returned the candle to the table. Lord Hagen stared me down.

“You caught me unawares on that one,” I raised my fists and danced around the table. “I’ll let it slide though. Only fair, since you are a lord and all.”

The freight train slammed across my jaw again. Once more I was knocked across the table. Saffron screamed. Lord Hagen grunted in satisfaction.

“You don’t talk much do ya?” I spat blood as I spoke.

“This matter does not concern you.” His sausage fingers flexed and cracked.

I rushed forward and ducked another blow. Quickly I jabbed. Once, twice, three times. My fists bounced off his brick wall chest. My knuckles screamed.

Lord Hagen laughed. He wrapped me in an unyielding bear hug. Life was forced from my lungs. My legs kicked out as I was lifted off the ground. His strength and size spelt my death.

Saffron: Part 1

Saffron: Part 1
By: James Dubeau

“Lord Cillian.” The bartender smiled at my outstretched cabbage and left the blonde waitress at the bar’s far end. Money was the only way to get service with a mug like mine.

“I never understood your taste for that whiskey,” my cousin said when my snifter and his tea were slid in front of us.

“Keeps out the cold on these long airship flights,” I tugged on my fedora. Several other passengers had shared my thoughts and had not changed out of their hats and coats. Unseasonably cold thin air seeped through cabin windows and chilled the lounge.

“See her?” a bony elbow jabbed my ribs.

She was a fallen angel. A slender fiery headed woman glided through the airship lounge. Long green silk gown flowed over her gracefully malevolent body. Delicate fingers were encased by long white silk gloves. Golden strings glittered with diamonds draped a willowy neck. Mischievous green eyes washed over us. Her keister swished and held our gaze until she disappeared into the dining room.

We weren’t the only ones who stalked her progress. Every eye was firmly upon her. Fixed upon every curve and dove into the same gutter.

“That dress hardly looks warm.” I drained my glass.

“There sure is a tail on her.” A wistful glaze consumed his eyes and soul.

“And horns too I’ll bet. You know that succubus?”
“You can say that, she’s a flapper from back home. They call her Saffron. A few good nights at the craps table were had with her by my side.”

“She blow your dice?” My empty glass slid across the varnished countertop to the bartender. He topped it off and picked a bill from the small green pile before me.

“Blew my dice and my money, was a good time though. Too bad her luck was not as divine as those luscious lips.”

“Leave me be.” A feminine voice rang from the dining room. The background cacophony of voices and glasses ceased. Only the outboard prop engine hum filled the void between outbursts. Trouble seemed to brew for Saffron.

“I do not have what you are looking for Lord Hagen!” Only her half of the conversation reached my ears.

“Unhand me.” Her desperate protests grew louder.

“Leave her alone.” My once again empty glass slammed onto the bar. The caramel liquid insulated me from the cold and fortified my courage.

“Would you like to say that to my face?” A soft masculine voice slipped from the dining area.

“You don’t have to go in there.” My cousin grasped my arm.

“Her honor demands to be defended. Besides,” I winked, “I’ve never known a lord to back up his words and fight.”