Stranded Angel
Autumn 1936
Part 15
"Portfolio"
by Reese Dorrycott
A story of Angelica Silferlindh, from Freddy Andersson's Silver Angel comic strip
and other characters by Freddy Andersson;
featuring Oharu and characters by David Reese Dorrycott
and characters from Simon's Songmark Academy stories
Art by Simon Barber & Freddy Andersson
Edited 17 May 2012

Lord Barton was, as usual for this time a day, settled down behind his desk. Carefully he placed a glass of brandy in its accustomed place as he dealt with today's post from London. There were dozens of letters, circulars, a couple of packages and a large tube. It was about what the badger received on a normal day while relaxing at his country manor home, thus nothing unexpected by its volume. Noting the large tube, he used his back scratcher to roll it across the desk towards himself. ‘Now what could that be’ he wondered, moving to set it aside. It was heavy, much heavier than he had expected. Glancing at the postmark his heart quickened, Mixtexia. Could it be, so soon? With shaking paws he picked up the tube, standing with a bit of struggle due to his own weight, he then walked quickly to his library. Forgetfully, he left his drink behind.

A bit later, with the door to his library well closed, Lord Barton spread out the thick linen cloth-bound portfolio. On its cover was a simple drawing of a wide sandy beach with a pair of coconut palms leaning over the water. Yet even there he could see details one would not expect, why... Right there, wasn’t that a blouse on the beach under that left palm? Wasn’t that a hat at the jungles edge? His paw shaking, he carefully opened the cover to its title page. “Wife Slave to the Fire Queen” he read. Yes, oh yes, this was the portfolio Baron Kleinheinz had written him about with such glowing words.

Allowing his fingers to run across the high quality rag paper Lord Barton was delighted to discover that each printed line was raised, a sign of the best intaglio printing arts. Studying the title page he was surprised to find, not an artist name, but a hack he knew had to be either Chinese or Japanese. Yet the art style was defiantly European and it did, he noted, tend more towards the technical side of art, with each line carefully placed and only the minimum of shading. Reaching for his drink, he was surprised to find that he had forgotten it. Well, that would just have to wait, he decided, after all he might spill it on this treasure. Turning from the title page he found the first image carefully covered with onion skin. A delicate paper, one that he almost ripped as his nervous fingers moved it aside.

There, before his eyes, was a European feline standing on a battered dock, her aircraft floating in the waters behind her. So great was the detail that it took the badger only a few seconds to place her land of birth. “Swedish,” he whispered to himself. In his European travels he had found the Swedish women more attractive than any other, in fact his long dead wife had been Swedish. Here though, the technical details were excellent as each line of the aircraft was easily made out, no fading away as lessor artists would have done. Even scratches upon the craft's paint had been carefully reproduced. The feline though... Lord Barton felt his heart flutter. Here the artist had adjusted his style just enough to bring out the beauty of that woman, thus instead of paging quickly onward he found himself studying what lay before him.

Beautiful was too light a word for this woman, he decided. She was a Goddess-in-the-fur, lithe in form; her proportions impeccable. Her full ripe lips held a promise of delights from a younger time; and her tail.... He sighed, running fingers over that form. To be young again. “Were you real,” he whispered, “and I younger. Oh, my sweet, I would be after you in but a moment.” Paging the onion skin back he turned to the story, reading the words written about this fictional woman.

Panel One: Having arrived upon the shores of Spontoon’s Casino Island, Lovisa Hjertstedt looked forward to her vacation. A time to relax, to enjoy her life as a single woman one last time before her Winter wedding to her childhood sweetheart Bergren. It was to be a short visit, a week only, no more than two then she would leave first for America’s Western shores, then home.

Little could sweet Lovisa suspect her real future to be. For as she stood upon that dock, the gentle Easterly wind causing her hair to billow, there were those who observed. Observed, compared, then agreed with each other. This they decided, was the woman their Queen had demanded for a mate. Three long years of waiting and finally she had arrived, just as the Smoke Sorceress had dreamed.

Thus it was that several days into her visit, sweet Lovisa had made close friends with a young mink couple, a couple who asked if she had yet seen the Fire Mountain at sunrise. “But of course, no,” Lovisa responded. “There is nothing like that on the visitors' map.”

“Ah, but you must see it,” the young female mink explained. “To watch the sun rise over its crater is a sight not to be missed. Why, though we are returning home in four days time, tomorrow morning we will one last time watch the sunrise. Would you like to join us? It is only a half-hour flight from here.”

Lovisa, as almost all romantic women, could not find it within herself to miss such a beautiful sight. Agreeing to meet her new friends that evening, she could not know that she had just sealed her fate forever.

Shivering in anticipation Lord Barton turned the pages, first ignoring the next drawing in favor of learning what had occurred.

Panel Two: As her new found friends had promised, they were waiting at a private pier when Lovisa arrived. Buying her ticket, she was amazed as her pilot walked out, for a blacker-furred, more powerful mare she had never seen before in her life. It was to be a short flight, she had been warned, so when her friends offered her a tiny drink of sherry, she gladly accepted. As the aircraft lifted off its step, she watched Spontoon Island fade away into the gathering darkness. It was to be her last view of freedom. For within a moment that drug which had been hidden within her sherry took effect.

Gleefully the two watched as their prize slipped into a deep sleep. Moving quickly they bound the young woman tightly within paw-woven ropes, ropes chosen for both their strength and softness. Before the aircraft arrived at its destination Lovisa was carefully packed away in a crate marked 'Bananas', her body hidden from sight and scent by the slightly overripe fruit. Their pilot, busy with her night navigation noticed nothing. Nor, when she went into the cargo area did she see anything amiss. For the two had already debarked, taking Lovisa’s overnight case with them' while their crate of bananas was to be unloaded later, to be delivered to a certain backwater shop.

Moving aside the onion paper Lord Barton was presented with a scene of the two minks busy binding their prize while the pilot, separated from the passenger/cargo compartment by a closed door, saw nothing. Dear sweet Lovisa was showing much more fur that was socially acceptable, as the two minks had removed her dress before binding her. He felt his heart speed up at the sight of that delectable young female, oh if she were only real. But... Bananas? A thought came to him. Standing more quickly than he had in months, he hurried over to a locked and well hidden panel in his library. Opening it, he carefully pushed aside several items until he found a rolled sheet of thick paper. It was an advertisement, one that had been sent to him by a friend on Fagatogo Island earlier that year. Unrolling it, he gasped! That was the same face, the same body. Looking down at the poster's lower right corner, he discovered that it was also the same artist. Abruptly the badger came to an understanding. Lovisa, or whatever her real name was, was a real woman. She lived. She breathed. If she lived, then she might be acquired for the right price. Pushing his poster back into place, then closing the panel, he hurried back to the portfolio, turning to the next page to read.

Panel Three: Lovisa woke with a terrible taste in her mouth, finding quickly that she could not move at all. Opening her eyes, she found nothing but darkness. A darkness than moved none too comfortably. What had happened? she wondered. Had they crashed? She tried to call out only to find her mouth securely sealed, though by what, she could not tell. Confused and more than a little frightened, she wondered what had happened. Were her new friends even still alive? Unknown to her, several hours would pass before, with a blinding rush of light, the canvas covering her cage was removed.

“Is she not what you asked for, my Queen?” she heard one of her friends ask. Blinking her eyes Lovisa slowly made out what was about her. Her ‘friends’, now dressed in native clothing, were standing to each side of a bamboo cage, a cage holding her. Before her stood a female canine, a woman who was staring at her with obvious desire.

“Yes my servants, she is what the Smoke Sorceress showed me. Have her prepared well, for I will have her tonight.”

Memories of stories about cannibalistic natives rushed through Lovisa’s mind and with a roll of her eyes she passed out, even as the cage was opened to remove her still-bound body.

Moving aside the onion paper Lord Barton was delighted with the scene. Dear Lovisa, placed as a secondary character in this drawing, was bound within an almost too small bamboo cage. Only the artist's skills hid from his sight the felines more private places. But the canine... He gasped, staring. Before him was a woman who was both dream and nightmare. Her fur had been combed in strange symbols, she wore nothing above her waist, and only a small cloth skirt below it. Around her neck was a necklace of carved stone eyes, each with a jewel in its center. A jewel he was certain that would be blood red were this to have been colored. Though every fur of her body extruded desire, something about her told him that desire was for poor Lovisa alone and the look on her face... Was she going to have Lovisa at dinner, or as dinner?

Panel Four: Within her palace, an ancient stone temple built thousands of years ago by whom no one could ever know, the Fire Queen approached her Smoke Sorceress. “Is she truly the one?” the canine asked her servant.

Turning to face her much taller Queen, the small mouse nodded 'Yes' slowly. “I have walked all the smoke paths, my Queen. She is the only one who will grant you that true love which you need. Do not break her soul, my Queen, for in doing so you will destroy that which you so need. This the smoke trails have told me.

“And you. Do I still need you?”

Turning away the Smoke Sorceress shrugged as she answered. “No my Queen. You have now in your paws she whom your soul needs. I am no longer important to your future. You will now end my own path?”

Walking forward the Fire Queen placed a paw upon her smaller companions shoulder, the act causing the mouse to turn to face her again. “Never. You have been truthful, honest and careful in your excesses. I cannot hope to find another to replace you. When the time comes it will be you who marries me to my future. No other. It will be you who presides over my years to come, who guides me. Now let us prepare, for it will be a long time opening this Euro’s heart, I should think.”

Panel four caused Lord Barton to wince. Though the Fire Queen was still as attractive as ever, her Smoke Sorceress was about as plain as they came. Only her chains made her interesting. He, like most males, had a fascination with chains and women. Here, it seemed that the Fire Queen shared his tastes, for the mouse was well-draped with ornamental chains. Her face indicated that she was from Arabia, though he was aware of no living sorceresses in those lands. Continuing his search he went slowly from page to page, reading the text before looking at each image until he stopped on panel nineteen.

Panel Nineteen: Having lost all patience with her captive the Fire Queen resorted to violence. Ordering Lovisa chained to a tall pillar of stone, she approached the feline with a cat-of-nine-tails. “I have given you every chance, Lovisa,” she announced, slashing her whip against a standing wooden pole. Chips of wood scattered from the impact, for each whip's end was bound with sharp steel. “I have no choice!  Though you have offered friendship it is not enough: It must be love. For my people to survive, we must marry for love. If we do not, then this island will sink back into the sea upon my death. Please, Lovisa, do not force me to break you.”

“I would rather be dead than marry you” the feline cried. “I will never be forced into marriage by anyone, not even you. Nothing you can do to me will ever change my mind.”

“Then let the torture begin,” the Fire Queen ordered.

Lovisa was bound naked to the stone column, Lord Barton saw, her stretched body enticing and for the first time absolutely nothing was hidden from the viewer's gaze. Though in truth all had been exposed in previous panels, this was the first that allowed the viewer to taste all the riches of Lovisa’s maiden body in one sitting. Even the Fire Queen stood exposed, and the badger could not help but to study her body as well. What punishment would she give poor Lovisa? What indignity would a European girl be forced to endure to save her virtue? Yet from his friends letter, Lovisa did submit, willingly. Why, how? Eagerly he turned the page. Its story was short, only a few lines long.

Panel Twenty: Instead of the cat, the Fire Queen walked up to her bound captive. “Before sunrise you will agree to marry me, or you will be sold to Kuo Han. I strongly suggest young Euro, that you think carefully upon your choices. For it is but five hours to sunrise.”

So saying, the Fire Queen began to feed.

Panel Twenty almost gave Lord Barton a heart attack. It was not one simple drawing but a collage of many. Each was a different view of Lovisa’s ‘torture.’ Forcing himself to breathe, he finally managed to turn the page. Then the next, as slowly; then the next. Only on the last panel was the answer he had come to hope for, but feared would not occur. It showed the Fire Queen and Lovisa sharing the same pallet, their tails intertwined. Lovisa now wore chains like those that the Smoke Priestess wore. Turning back the onion skin he read what he’d passed over.

Panel Twenty-Four: And so, having fallen to the Fire Queen's vicious torture Lovisa surrendered her heart. Granting the canine ruler not only her body, but her love. And thus she remains, until perhaps some brave knight should come to rescue her from captivity. For is her love true, or forced? This is known only to her heart, and she has never answered that question.

Closing the portfolio, Lord Barton was stunned to find that it was after sunset. Carefully rolling his new treasure, he replaced it into its mailing tube. “Casper!” he yelled as he headed towards the front door, the tube under one plump arm. “My car. I am off to the club immediately.”

Some three weeks later an elderly Mixtexia lawyer approached Songmark's gate. Finding himself stopped at the gate itself, he looked puzzled, studying the two young girls standing before him. “Nah males in tha proper' ” the taller girl, a Mixtexia anteater explained. “Is rules.”

“You speak the Spanish?” he asked politely in that tongue.

“I do,” the girl answered in her native tongue.

“I have come to speak with those who created the 'Fire Queen Portfolio'. I am a lawyer who represents their publisher. Is it possible to see them?”

“You see two before you. I am Carmen; this is Prudence.”

“I see. And the three other young ladies?”

“Belle and Ada are studying. You may not meet the fifth or sixth. We may see you later this afternoon. There at that bench, should we say, six-thirty?”

“Six-thirty is acceptable, and this,” he offered an envelope from his jacket, “Belongs to all of you.” Turning away from the delightfully attractive anteater, the Jaguar returned the way he had come. At least half of his duty was discharged now. Once the other half was complete, he would have up to a week to enjoy what Spontoon had to offer.

Carmen returned to Prudence, offering her the envelope. “He is a lawyer representing our publisher” she explained, her hock accent gone while talking to her friend.

Opening the envelope Prudence stared after the departing jaguar. “Handsome, for a male,” she admitted. “I hope this isn’t another bill; we are all quite broke now.” Withdrawing a thick folded sheet of paper, Prudence read it, gasped, read again, then offered the paper to Carmen, her paw shaking. “The entire series sold, every volume. Their wanting a second printing, one thousand copies and they front all costs. There’s already six hundred orders waiting.”

Carmen read the page, stared at the numbers on its attached check and swallowed. “Well,” she admitted. “I guess this makes us rich.”

“Rich? No,” Prudance admitted. “Since most of this is Ada’s and Angelica’s. And we can pay the Priestess a full five days before the deadline. But if we can get Honored Mother Oharu to make a second story up... Maybe about Belle and I?”

“I am the chopped liver?” Carmen asked.

“You are the evil villainess,” the rabbit countered.

“This I will do gladly,” Carmen agreed. “To be the villainess and not worry about the police, it is everyone’s fantasy I think. Now I must walk the fence line.” She returned paper and envelope to her larger friend, picked up a worn wooden club and started off on her patrol. Anti-clockwise.

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