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    A Black Hand For Franz Ferdinand
    A Black Hand For Franz Ferdinand
    A Black Hand For Franz Ferdinand
    Ebook52 pages46 minutes

    A Black Hand For Franz Ferdinand

    By D. Cullen Nolan

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    About this ebook

    It is June 28th, 1914.

    Archduke Franz Ferdinand, Reichsheir of the Habsburg Four Thrones, is visiting Sarajevo; ostensibly on a state tour of Bosnia. Yet, he has plans of his own, a secret hidden from his very wife, Sophia. Meanwhile, young Gavrilo Princip waits on the city streets, hidden amongst the admiring throngs, eager to unleash the infernal device hidden in his pocket. For Gavrilo desires Unification or Death and that requires . . . a Black Hand for Franz Ferdinand.

    The first story in the epic speculative history series Tales of the Accursed War, A Black Hand for Franz Ferdinand is the re-telling of that famous assassination which catalyzed into the Great War. This tale is set in a world where legends, myths, and folktales were real, where strange magic and weird technology co-exist. It has a history at once familiar and divergent, told in an era that has forgotten the horror's of the Napoleonic Cataclysm.

    A tenuous peace between the Grand Powers is about to come undone . . . a Great Cataclysm looms . . . an Accursed War begins.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherD. Cullen Nolan
    Release dateFeb 12, 2016
    ISBN9780982042885
    A Black Hand For Franz Ferdinand
    Author

    D. Cullen Nolan

    D. Cullen Nolan plots epic sagas while serving undercover as a history teacher at a public high school in northern Virginia. Curious eyes and ears consume information at an alarming rate. Insistent hands write, strum, drum, and quest for the ever elusive more. There was extensive schooling and education, wisdom achieved through experience, multiple paths explored. It all led here.

    Read more from D. Cullen Nolan

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    Book preview

    A Black Hand For Franz Ferdinand - D. Cullen Nolan

    A Black Hand For Franz Ferdinand

    By D. Cullen Nolan

    Published by Phoenix Tree Publishing

    Smashwords Edition

    Copyright 2016 D. Cullen Nolan/Phoenix Tree

    Smashwords Edition, License Notes-

    This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    Disclaimer

    This story is a work of fiction. All events and characters are products of the author’s imagination, even if they emulate historical events or people by degree.

    Table of Contents

    Section 1

    Section 2

    Section 3

    Section 4

    Section 5

    Section 6

    Section 7

    Section 8

    Sarajevo, Bosnia: June 28, 1914

    Gavrilo was in the hillside cemetery again. He stood upon the grave of his hero, Bogdan. It was hidden behind a hedge, along with all the other suicides. The headstone was small and plain, with only Bogdan’s full name, and birth and death dates etched into it. ‘Martyr’ was painted in red under the dates. ‘Union or Death’ curled along the top in black.

    Sunbeams filtered through the trees, burning off the morning mist. The air was warm, thick, and cloying. The cemetery was alive with greenery and wildflowers, birdsong and squirrel chatter.

    Gavrilo was twenty, with a thin moustache, hollowed cheeks, and deep set brown eyes made prominent by dark rings of exhaustion, hunger, paranoia, and fervor. He was wearing his good clothes, a dark brown suit a trifle baggy on his short and scrawny frame. The white, stiff collared shirt was clean and freshly pressed with a black tie knotted inelegantly. His fedora was frayed and faded, the black leather shoes deeply creased but polished, the soles worn thin.

    He heard footfalls approaching from behind and eased his left hand into the jacket pocket. His whole body tensed, imagining the dreaded inzpektors torturing his body and dissecting his soul. The warm iron shape his fingers curled around felt like determination, a promise unfulfilled. His right pocket was heavier, but he ignored the strange blend of fear and hope residing there.

    I thought I’d find you here, Danilo commented in Yugoslav, the common tongue of Serbs, Slovenes, Croats, and Bosniaks throughout the Balkans.

    Gavrilo relaxed at recognition of the low voice. Danilo was a few years older, a head taller, with a high forehead and thin hair, healthy complexion and physique. He was dressed much the same, though Danilo’s suit was black, tie knotted perfectly, with new shoes but no hat. Gavrilo nodded then returned his attention to the headstone.

    We will succeed where he failed, Danilo promised.

    He did not fail, Gavrilo refuted, then vowed, We will complete what Bogdan began.

    They stood there in silence, absorbing the solemnity of their purpose. A shrike landed on Bogdan’s headstone, peering at them curiously. It flew away as the bells began to toll throughout Sarajevo’s Serb Quarter. They were announcing the holy day of Vidovdan, Saint Vitus Day; sacred to Serbs as the anniversary of their defeat by the Ottomans at the Field of Blackbirds over 500 years ago. On this day all true

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