Danube Waves

By Katharina Bordet

Danube Waves (Wiener Blut Book 2)

The portals between worlds have been shut down, leaving king-to-be Max Schindler-Krug trapped in our world in the form of a goat. An impending revolution, a murderer on the loose, recurring nightmares and a mad scientist stand between him and the throne. It’s going to take more than a talking swan, a fainting goat and copious amounts of coffee and cake to save the day.

Ten years since the murder of his mother, Max Schindler-Krug is having increasingly vivid dreams about the night that changed his life forever, but that is the least of his problems. His coronation as King of Neu Meidling is approaching fast, but revolution across the kingdom threatens the monarchy and the portals between the worlds have been mysteriously sealed, closing off all trade and splitting up families.
Karin’s peaceful life at the Alt Wien is turned upside-down when her daughter brings home a wounded swan, leading her to discover a lost family secret that will change her life forever. Her own husband’s place in events could rip their relationship apart.
Lily, a trainee Beschützer finds herself trapped in another world, torn between her duty to protect the Wächter line and coffee trade and her love for her future king. When she meets a man who could solve all her problems, she has to make a choice that could topple the monarchy, assuming she can get the young king back home alive.

“Danube Waves” takes us back to the linked worlds of the Wiener Blut universe first introduced in “The Coffee Legacy”, revisiting beloved characters and introducing new ones, not to mention tickling the tastebuds with a range of traditional Austrian cakes.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Katharina Bordet
• Release date: Feb 12, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310278242

Katharina Bordet

Author of the novel The Coffee Legacy, Danube Waves and The Confectioner's Dragon. Co-author of Christmas Markets in Vienna and Christmas Markets in Austria.

Book preview

Chapter 01 - Imperialtorte

Empire Cake

Chocolate icing, almonds, marzipan and cocoa cream

* * *

Tea? Are you serious? Why on earth would I want tea with a piece of cake? the old man asked angrily.

I... I am sorry, Sir. We ran out of coffee.

The girl standing to his side shivered as the booming voice of her employer filled his office. His grey eyes stared past his long nose, which was wrinkled in disgust, down to the cup of steaming hot tea.

Take it. I don't want this stuff in here. This situation cannot continue for much longer. Whatever is the point of making such fantastic cakes when we can't get proper coffee to go along with them? We need to get a firm grip of the situation!

No, Sir. I mean yes, Sir.

She almost chuckled at the thought of the man in front of her trying to maintain a firm grip on a piece of soft cake, the crumbs falling down to the floor and the cream filling squeezing out between his fingers. As she picked up the mug of tea, she bowed her head so he would not see her grin. The image was just too funny.

Is Lady Hanna in? he continued, now with less anger in his voice.

I think so, Sir. I saw her in the garden earlier. Do you want me to give her a message?

No, it's all right. I'll go and look for her myself.

The lanky figure in the emerald green suit stood up and turned to look out of the windows over the garden. Things had turned from funny to downright weird in a short amount of time. Never before had the Lord of Unterbrücken decided to do something himself. He was known to make use of the numerous people in his employ, but if he ever did something himself, he did so without anyone knowing, even if it was just the simple task of looking for his own wife.

Lord Bluewater looked out of the study window at the distant lights of the city of Unterbrücken. After many years of being cut off from Wien, rations had become smaller and the cellars beneath the castle were slowly emptying. He wondered what his people were going to say, even though they had all known that one day everyone would have to return to the old ways, back before they had been blocked off from the other world. The times of splendour and luxury brought by trade were over and what bothered him most was the fact that it was entirely his fault. He and Hanna had brought it on themselves; had it not been for them, they would never have been cut off from Wien. No-one would ever have said it to their faces, because at some point in their lives most people had faced the same temptations: to live in that other world or to bring someone back from Wien to Unterbrücken. Some had even tried, but all had failed. Only Lord and Lady Bluewater had been successful, but even they had been caught and punished for it. Now, because of their actions, their own people had to pay the price.

The girl sneaked out the office as quietly as possible, scared that things were going to get even stranger if she stayed. The look on her face must have made that obvious, because when she returned to the kitchen, the cook asked her if she had seen a ghost. It had only been six months since she had started working in Unterbrücken Castle and she still got easily scared Lord Bluewater’s strict and serious demeanour. For a girl from the orphanage, it was still an honour to be working in there in the first place and she didn't want to risk her job because she was intimidated by her boss.

Was his Lordship in one of his serious moods again?

Mrs Till had one sceptical eyebrow raised, but a smile in her voice as she asked the question. She was not the typical image of the round, motherly cook that one might expect to be running a kitchen such as this, but having no family of her own, she cared for the other people who worked at the castle and was particularly taken with the enthusiastic orphan. Most who worked on the estate did struggle with the Lord’s often erratic behaviour in the beginning, but soon learned that his stern attitude and grave demeanour did not make him a horrible boss. He was just different. The cook often wondered if Lord Bluewater felt guilty for everything that had happened. Some people blamed the Bluewaters, of course, but in the end, they all still hoped the couple could fix the situation and they could rejoin the other world.

He was quite angry when I brought him tea instead of coffee. Then he asked me where Lady Hanna was, but decided to go to look for her himself instead of just sending me, as he always does. Something about the tea must have shaken him quite profoundly, the girl answered the cook.

Ah, well. It's complicated with him and tea. Let's just say he prefers coffee.

But what are we going to do? We ran out of coffee!

Well, my dear. Someone has to get some eventually, Mrs Till said quietly.

You know that's not possible, the girl stated.

Then maybe someone just has to take the risk of getting through the border.

The cook wondered if there was really a way to break through; it had been decades since they had been shut off, after all.

No... are you serious? But who....? And how?

Mrs Till shook her head. She didn't know either. But she knew that something had to be done.

* * *

As they left the church, he kept her hand clasped tight within his, warm and soft to his touch. The early afternoon air was mild and carried the smells of flowers, the sun and her. She wasn't wearing any perfume, yet still there was always the slightest lingering scent of cinnamon and apple around her. Today, the aroma lodged deep inside his heart, more pronounced than ever before. The fabric of her dress swung with her every move and he could feel it slightly wafting against his legs. Every step down the church stairs meant another step towards their future. He knew he was smiling, grinning even, and wondered if his cheeks would soon hurt from it. Gripping her hand more tightly, they moved further away from the church, yet the ringing of the steeple bells grew louder with every pace. There’s something strange about these bells, he thought. Their sound was not as cheerful as one might expect at a wedding; he would have to talk to the pastor about what had gone wrong. Maybe it was just one of his little brother’s practical jokes: mess with the bell ringer. Yes, that's what it must be, he decided.

It did not take long until the noise of the church bells became almost over-bearing. Through the bells he could just about make out someone shouting in the distance. It seemed to be the same thing over and over again but he didn't know who was shouting, or what, but the further they walked, the clearer the voice became. It also grew louder and eventually he was able to make out what it was saying.

The King is dead! Long live the King!

With the clarity of that last shout, Maximilian woke up. The joy of his dream was still lingering in his heart, but the cold, shouted words were hammering away at the warm and fuzzy feeling that had been there before. Reality started to sink in, along with the bright sunlight that flickered across his eyes. The bells had never been ringing a tune of joy, but a tune of grief. He tried so hard to hold onto the dream, to be able to go back to that happy moment, to be able to turn his head and look at her face. If only he could fall asleep again, he thought. Maybe then he would finally find out who she was. But there was to be no more sleep for young Maximilian that night. The church bells rang in the city centre; by now, every church had joined in the solemn song they sang, as someone walked through the streets, shouting the announcement.

He knew what was about to happen, but still tried to blink it away as hard as he could, hoping that it would be different, that something would change. They had tried to prepare him for this day. As much as you can prepare someone for the existence of a parallel world and more responsibility that any young boy can take, shortly after his mother's death. Even after the many years that had passed, it didn't help him to be prepared for what was going to happen next. He had to quickly wipe away a tear as it ran down his cheek, when he heard a timid knock at his bedroom door.

Max? I mean... Maximilian... That is, rather... Your Majesty...?

A face topped with ruffled hair and bearing a familiar timid smile peeked through the gap in the door. The light that suddenly poured in from the hallway looked like someone was holding a flaming torch into the room.

Don't be silly, Sebastian. You're my wee brother.

But you're king now, the boy said, slowly approaching his older sibling’s bed.

Sit here.

Max patted a spot next to him on his bed. Sebastian took the cue and crawled up beside him.

You've called me many odd things before -- sometimes even rightfully so -- but I'm telling you, I'll never be YOUR Majesty.

The younger brother seemed to ponder this for a while. Outside, the church bells were still ringing, but with a little less urgency now. Sebastian gazed out of the window. He could see a few lights in the distance and wondered how many people would be awake by now, woken by the church bells' insistent ringing. Probably all of Neu Meidling would be up and mourning their king. It was different for them though; it wasn't their grandfather. The one who helped their father raise them after their mother was killed and whom they had only met about a decade ago. The one who taught them what it meant to be a future king and a prince, what it meant to be royal. Everyone's future had changed that day: for each of them individually, as a family, and for the whole of Neu Meidling.

Grampa is dead, isn't he? Sebastian asked his brother, hoping he would tell him he was wrong, as he usually did.

It sounds like it.

I wish Mum was here.

I know; me too. Me too.

Max put an arm around his brother and hugged him tight. Although they were adults now and hadn't really hugged in a while, this was not the moment to play cool.

She's still with me, you know?

What do you mean? Sebastian asked his brother.

I keep dreaming about her, Max explained.

That sounds like a good thing, no?

Sebastian looked sceptical. Hesitating, Maximilian looked down at his hands, which were tightly wrapped around each other. Not sure if he should tell his brother, he shifted uncomfortably. It was still in the middle of the night and he was tired, sad, exhausted and scared. He had wanted to tell Sebastian that the bells had actually woken him at the point just before his recurring nightmare usually began. With everything that was going on, he didn't want to scare his younger brother though. They both had other troubles at the moment. Max was king now. He shouldn't be worried about something like a nightmare.

Yeah, I guess so. It's just... weird. I...

The King stopped in his tracks.

I envy you, said Sebastian. I wish I would dream about her. Especially now... Having her close -- even just in my mind -- would help a lot.

Max nodded. He wasn't going to tell him that seeing his mother being killed, night after night, was anything to look forward to.

Hmm, yeah.

That thought seemed to comfort Sebastian, as he leant back against his brother's pillow and was soon asleep again. Max stared into the dark for a few more minutes, but then the exhaustion overcame him as well and he fell asleep again.

A few hours later, after the sun had risen, their father Dominik found his two sons fast asleep in what had now become the king's bed. The bells had stopped pealing and the shouting died down. He was glad that they had slept through the noise. Reality would come soon enough: the reality that his son, sleeping so sound in the bed before him, was also his king. What a weird thought that was, he realised.

* * *

Many years ago, the city of Wien was just a small town, little more than a collection of small huts scattered along the river Danube. One of those huts was inhabited by a poor widower and his son. They earned their livelihood by fishing in the river and selling their catches at the market. From early spring until the last days of autumn, they set out onto the river with their small fishing boat and nets. During the winter, when the Danube shifted with ice floes or even froze over completely, they used the time to fix the nets and the boat, make repairs around the house, and tell each other stories in front of the fireplace.

The son's favourite story was the one about the Lord of the River and his family. Legend had it that the Lord lived with his daughters in a splendid palace, deep down at the bottom of the Danube. The palace was made of glass, with tiles and slates that looked like shimmering fish scales. Everything the eye could see was in coloured in shades of white and blue, decorated with pearls and glittering stones. They lived a lavish life, but as often happens, some people long for things they cannot have. Such were the feelings of the Lord's daughters. At night, when Wien was dark and everyone was asleep, they would swim to the surface and look at the stars and the silhouettes of the town. On some nights, the water beings even came out of the water to walk through the streets. One of the daughters was particularly daring; she would sneak into restaurants to dance with the young men. Every night they went out, they had to be back in the palace before it was light or they would feel their father's wrath. The Lord of the River was extremely strict and did not approve of the ways of the people in Wien. The fisherman told his son that whenever the Danube was grey in the morning, it meant that one of the daughters had been caught and the Lord had become so angry that he had stirred up the silt from the bottom of the river when he beat them.

During one particularly cold winter that seemed to never end, the fisherman was working with his son in front of their hut, trying to free it from the piles of snow that had fallen the previous night, nearly burying it. Suddenly, the ice on the river started to crack, but the two men were so busy working they didn't notice anything until they heard a voice behind them, coming from the river.

The voice was shouting, warning them that they had to leave, because the ice was about to melt. They both turned towards the water to see where the voice was coming from, where they could see a head sticking out. It was a young woman, the most bold and daring of the Lord's daughters. She told them that the ice was thawing that night and if they didn't leave, their hut would be swept away by the rising waters of the Danube. The fisherman’s son just stared at the young woman -- he had never seen anyone as beautiful -- and was struggling to listen and understand. Before he or his father could ask her anything, she had already disappeared again.

The two men were confused, not knowing if they should believe what they had seen and heard, as there had been no sign of any change in the weather. Both were sure that the young woman had been one of the people who lived in the Danube, like those from the legend. It was hard to believe, but nevertheless they decided to get their belongings together and head for safer ground. The son then ran to the other fishermen who also lived in huts along the river, telling them that his father thought it would be thawing. All of them were sceptical, but they respected the old fisherman and heeded his predictions. When they had all dragged most of their things up a hill close by, they sat down and waited. Just as the young woman in the water had told them, there was no more snow that night, but the air was certainly getting warmer. Slowly, but steadily, the level of the Danube began to rise. Soon it was at a level above any that the fishermen had ever seen and, a few hours later, their huts were flooded and parts of them washed away.

They spent that night away from the water and, when they went back the next day, the old fisherman’s hut was completely gone. The water was still too high up the riverbank for him to even descend to where it used to stand. It had not been a sturdy hut in the first place, because the he hadn't been able to afford anything more robust. The fisherman stood there with his son, looking at where their house had once stood, devastated by their loss, but at least they were alive and had saved their most important belongings from the water. They were thankful for their relative good fortune at having been warned of the flood, and as soon as the water was gone, they started to rebuild their hut.

What the old fisherman hadn't anticipated was that he had lost more than he had thought that night. As soon as the snow on the Danube had melted, he noticed his son was taking the boat out more often on his own. At first he suspected him of going fishing alone, to practice a little and give his old man some time off, but then he discovered that the lad had left all the nets behind the house. He grew suspicious and checked for the fishing gear whenever his son had been out with the boat. One day he walked along the river to look for his son. The boat was not too far from the bank and the old man spotted the boy just sitting in the boat, staring into the water. Apparently, he couldn't get over the girl from the river, the one who had saved their lives. Though the fisherman had convinced himself that it must all have been a dream, simply his subconscious self being aware of the changes in the weather and warning him, the problem was that his son couldn't forget the young woman he believed lived in the water. Every day he set out on his own on the Danube to look for her.

Nothing could distract the young man from the girl in the river. For months he went out alone in the boat looking for her and each day returned in the evening, shattered and heartbroken that he hadn’t found her. His father had come to accept that his son was going to look for her for a long time, but at least he eventually managed to convince him to do some fishing whilst he was out on the water. One evening though, the young man didn't return. The fisherman woke up to find his son's bed empty and the boat no longer tied to the jetty. Worried, he called upon the other fishermen who took him out on the river with them to look for his son. After hours of searching up and down the river, one of the fishermen found the empty boat. The young man was nowhere to be found. Only a single water lily lay in the empty boat.

What happened to the boy, Mama? the young girl asked.

Well, he couldn't live without the girl from the water, Karin said.

But did he manage to be with her?

I am sure he did, my love.

I like the idea of water people... Christina said, her mind wandering off into thoughts of the Danube and its waters.

Karin kissed her daughter goodnight, turned the lights off and went to bed herself. Andreas was still awake and put his book away when he heard his wife enter.

The story about the Danube girl again? he asked her.

Yep, again. She is just like my mother, completely besotted with the legend.

Who knows, maybe she'll end up studying marine biology one day, just to look for mermaids.

Knowing her? Probably... yes.

Chapter 02 - Sachertorte

Sacher Cake

Named after the patissier who invented it

Chocolate cake with chocolate icing and a layer of apricot jam in the middle

* * *

Hanna, it's time, Lord Bluewater announced. Now we’ve run out of coffee, too.

I know, dear.

Our people are not going to go back to eating algae again. Coffee is just a start, but what will be next? I am scared to find out.

I have no idea what to do. We have to cross over, but God knows how. You know as well as I do that my father blocked all the pathways decades ago...

Yes, but then if we can’t undo it, maybe someone else can travel. Maybe someone can come here?

You know we've tried it all. Besides, how can anyone come here if they don't know how?

If only Heidi hadn't been so small, she could've remembered.

Don't...

I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up; I was just thinking out loud.

Well then don't. Here, drink something.

Let me guess... Algae tea? God, I hate that stuff.

Lady Hanna Bluewater walked across the room to her husband and slung her arms around him. Resting her head against his back, she took a deep breath, sneezing when his ponytail tickled her nose. His long, curly and once-dark hair was tied together with a blue ribbon, which trailed down as far as the hair it held in place. Her own blonde, waist-length hair hung loose down her back, much straighter than her husband's, not even curling when he turned around to run his hand through it. Whenever he was worried or contemplating something complicated he would run his hand through his wife's hair, almost as if all the answers of the universe would come to him if he could just ensure no single hair of hers was entangled with another.

What if I try it again? Try to get through... it's not too late yet, you know? he suggested.

I know you are very well preserved for your seventy-nine-plus years, Hans, but you're not the youngest anymore.

Lady Bluewater nudged her husband, who had already been claiming he was seventy-nine years old for quite a number of years.

You and I are the only people still alive who have crossed the border to the other world. Those who were traders back then aren't alive anymore, he said.

And nobody has come through the border since my father sealed it, not in either direction. God, it's been so long, it almost seems unreal!

I actually expected that we would have run out of coffee long before now. I guess sixty years is not such bad shelf life after all...

Hm, it did start tasting a bit weird, but I'm not sure anymore. I can barely remember what freshly roasted coffee tastes like.

The old woman had a distant and longing look in her eyes.

I just... I'd like to try again. You know, go to the border and have another poke around. I haven't done so in quite some time, her husband said.

Oh yes? I thought you'd been giving the old border a nudge every once in a while, Hanna smiled at her husband.

A nudge is hardly trying... but seriously. Our time is running out, too. I don't want to leave our people behind, locked away in this world with no-one to look after them.

This world is big enough for them to live in for a long time yet, as they had done long before Wien and the other world were discovered. Don't fret, darling. You are probably just grumpy because the coffee ran out. How about we go for a walk to the border and try again. Together.

Hans smiled thankfully at his wife's suggestion, then took her hand and led her out of the castle.

When they walked towards the border that used to separate their world from the one above, they knew exactly where they were going. They always went to that one spot, that place where once the other world and Wien were clearly visible, but which was now home to a milky, solid fog. The only difference from the rest of the border was that at this precise spot there were flowers carefully laid upon a large, flat rock that stuck up through the reeds. This was where, so many years ago, they had tried to escape and were captured, with only their baby daughter being able to get through the border in the few remaining seconds before it was shut for good. It almost looked like a memorial for the deceased. Deep in their hearts though, Hanna and Hans felt that she had made it safely to the other side and survived the journey. They had no idea whether this was true or not, because shortly after Hanna's father, the former Lord Bluewater, had finished locking them in, he died, taking the secret of how he did it -- and how it could be undone