Wulfenia Carinthiaca
Wulfenia Carinthiaca

Summary/Abstract: The officer’s name was Vogel, and he remembered having seen the Hungarian man a couple of years earlier in an inn sitting at a table with a grubby Gypsy, heads close together, deep in conversation. The officer had worked his way up through the ranks, from lowly private to the privileged post of interrogator, he had made it to the rank of inspector shortly after the victory, and had every reason to bear a grudge against Hungarians. At the very beginning of the rebellion his brother, Little Vogel, had been killed in a minor skirmish near Lake Balaton. His brother had had a stutter, had been short, slight of build, and sickly, and he, Big Vogel, could not understand why, why his brother had been chosen to be sent into the line of fire when he could have been assigned safe paperwork instead. The boy had had neat, legible handwriting and he had been good at drawing, he would have made an excellent military engineer; instead he had been driven to his death, shot by the rebel curs, and for this Vogel resented his own side as well. On his darkest days he hated the entire world, and would spit at his own reflection in the mirror.

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