Friday, 16 July, 1870
We have survived the the rigors of the engagement party and are now travelling to the country of Belgium on a mission for the crown.
The party itself was an interesting affair. It reminded me, in some ways, of a story I heard as a child of a maharajah's dinner party. Since the Earl of Greyminster was hosting the party, and the guest list had been rather limited (at Miss Chigwidgeon's request), there were Dukes and Duchesses and Earls and Countesses.
Our Mr. Graves was certainly correct about one thing, when I am standing there in the full livery of a footman, such powerful people say all sorts of things that they would never think to say in front of their clerks or tenants. For example, I overheard two interesting conversations concerning Lord Robert St. Simon, who is a younger son of the Earl's close friend and ally, the Duke of Balmoral. Lord Robert had attempted to get himself invited to the party, and had run afoul of Miss Pinker's determination to keep the guest list short. I know, from discussions under the stairs and from my previous conversation with Sir Cosmo, that the real reason his request to have himself and a suitable young lady of society inserted into the guest list is the manner in which he tried to settle a gambling debt earlier this summer.
The story, as the servants have it, is that Lord Robert offered information concerning some business interest of Sir Cosmo's to a competitor. Which is, technically, not untrue--the interests in question were actually the League and Lady Ottoline's school, and the competitor was actually the undead gunslinger, Sentenza, who was using the League and the School to get revenge upon Dr. Wilson.
His father the Duke was so upset at the news, that he significantly cut Lord Robert's allowance. When Lord Robert complained, the Duke decided to sell the townhouse Lord Robert has been living in, and gave the son until the end of the month to move all of his things back to the family's country estate. When Lord Robert protested, the Duke suggest Lord Robert find himself a job, which I am given to understand is about the worst insult a young nobleman of Lord Robert's temperament can be given. I couldn't help but think of Lt. Lochsley or Lt. Spode, who were also each younger sons of noblemen, but who seem to feel no shame in working as naval officers to support themselves.
The party went off without any disasters. I and the other footmen were kept busy bringing in new courses, removing old ones, and refilling wine glasses. There was a great deal of wine consumed. I had overheard Miss Whitnell warning Miss Chigwidgeon of this, and of course when the other Mr. Graves (who is Lord Greyminster's butler) was instructing us before we began serving, he also explained that every gentleman at the party was expected to propose a toast to the couple, and then, at the end, Sir Cosmo would propose a toast in thanks for all their warm wishes.
Lord Greyminster proposed the first toast. It was a rather longer and more poetic than I had expected. He concluded it with a strong suggestion that Sir Cosmo take Miss Chigwidgeon to the continent to escape "the beastly London summer." I knew, from our Mr. Graves, that even as the revelers were wishing Sir Cosmo and Miss Chigwidgeon happiness in their life together, back at the house the rest of Sir Cosmo's household staff and Mr. Cuthbert's servants were getting the households prepared for a trip to the continent on League business, which we were to keep from the ladies until after the party. It hadn't occured to me that the Earl would be in on it, as well.
Miss Chigwidgeon sipped a bit more wine than she had intended and was thus quite relaxed by the end of the entire affair. I don't think she noticed that the servants at Lord Greyminster's began addressing her as "my lady" after the official announcement. Once we reached the houses at Charlse Street, she was too busy packing to really care, I think.
We have taken Sir Cosmo's and Mr. Balderstoke's private rail cars to Dover. During that portion of the trip, Sir Cosmo explained the details of our mission. A Mr. Richard Arkwright, who is a deputy secretary in the British Embassy in Belgium, was killed under suspicious circumstances on the 14th of July. His papers, including code books, are missing from his office in the embassy. There are also reliable witnesses who place him almost simultaneously in two cities, many miles apart, late on the evening before his death.
Since Arkwright has been monitoring the activities of the armies and agents of Prussia and France, and since those countries appear to be on the brink of war, it is likely that Arkwright was killed by agents of one of those countries. Britain has guaranteed the neutrality of Belgium, which is a small country wedged between Prussia and France. I confess I only had a vague understanding of where all these countries were until Sir Cosmo showed us the maps.
Admiral LeCoq, with whom we have had dealings before, has been demoted from his previous position in command of all French military forces, and has been sent to an ambassadorial post in the Kingdom of Two Sicilies. This was all done before the current trouble erupted between Prussia and France, but there are certain indications that it may have been done in anticipation of such troubles. For example, when the Emperor removed him from the jobs of "Supreme Marshal" and "Minister of War" he also issued an order that all of the Admiral's previous responsibilities and positions were still his, though the document doesn't actually list what all of those jobs are.
This likely means that he is still in charge of France's secret service. He is clearly still in charge of their fleet. He flew to his new ambassadorial post in the aerofrigate we encountered on our ocean voyage. The warship that is tasked as the aerofrigate's tender has also been dispatched to this ambassadorial post, along with the Admiral's personal staff. Clearly an ambassador doesn't need such elaborate military equipment, so it seems reasonable to assume that the Emperor has sent him there not so much as an exile, but has a contingency against some future trouble. Whether this is the Prussian situation or an internal problem is not clear. Apparently the Emperor's health is in decline. His son is only 14 years old and not yet ready to take the reigns of government, which leads Sir Cosmo and Sir Anthony to suspect the Emperor is trying to ensure the orderly succession to his son.
The League's mission goals are: to find out who killed Arkwright and why, to find out what information he had that was stolen from the embassy, to prevent either France or Prussia from violating Belgium's neutrality if war breaks out. Sir Cosmo added that if the war itself could be averted that would be especially desirable, though he harbours doubts that anything we will learn in Belgium could have that effect.
Our cover is that Sir Cosmo is taking his grandfather's advice and taking a holiday in Belgium. Miss Whitnell and Mrs. Cuthbert must accompany Miss Chigwidgeon to serve as chaperones. Mr. Cuthbert is going along to look after his niece, Mrs. Cuthbert, and to scout out hunting lodges for a boar hunting trip he's thinking of taking in the winter. Sir Cosmo will also be visiting with a Belgian railway inventor who has invited him to visit many times before. Therefore Edward is being brought along to see the steam engines and so forth. Miss Sinclair, as Edward's tutor, therefore must come along as well. Emily, David, Stuart, George, Tattvick, and myself are accompanying them all because persons of their station don't travel without a group of servants in tow.
Lt. Wooster, Mr. Caine, Dr. Wilson, and Mr. O'Flaherty had already been sent with a small task force of naval ships to show the flag and be prepared to defend Belgium if necessary. Insp. MacGregor and Mr. Frazer were sent by the Metropolitan Police to consult with the Belgian police and observe the investigation of a murder of a member of the Embassy staff. When we meet up with them, we are supposed to pretend to be surprised to find them in the same place we have chosen to go on holiday.
Mr. Ramsay and the Marquis presented a bit of a problem to explain. Apparently there are rumours circulating in certain circles that the two gentlemen are interested in Miss Whitnell, romantically, and have been hanging about being solicitous during her period of mourning, in hopes of being in position to court her when appropriate. Sir Anthony has encouraged these rumours as a way to explain why Ramsay and Henri would invite themselves along on this trip. Which angered Miss Whitnell no end when she learned of it.
We are pulling into the station at Dover. The carters will have trouble with a few or our trunks. I will need to go assist them. I'm not certain which is heavier -- Edward's project trunk, Emily's weapon trunk, or Mr. Cuthbert's gun trunks.
~Later~
Emily spent most of the first leg of the journey polishing her new, silver inlaid, sword. When she wasn't pacing in one of the train cars. If Miss Whitnell and Mrs. Cuthbert hadn't cast a soothing ritual on her, I'm not sure what she would have done during the channel crossing.
Since none of the League had received a full night's sleep, most of them took the boat trip as an opportunity to nap. Edward and Owen spend much of the trip at the top deck of the ferry, at the front rail, enjoying the wind and spray on their faces. The transfer to the trains in Calais was accomplished smoothly enough, other than the trunk transfer. My command of french is considerably less than Edward's, and even he seemed quite puzzled by some things that the cargo handlers were saying. From the tones of voice, I don't believe Miss Sinclair, nor her dictionaries, would be much help in deciphering some of what they said.
When we unloaded in Brussells (which I am given to understand is the capital city of Belgium), the handlers were a bit more friendly and amenable to assistance. Particularly after one of them tried to pick up Edward's project trunk by himself. It took a fleet of carriages and wagons to get us all to the hotel, where we took over and entire floor, but will be staying only one night. We were met by a Colonel Peacock, who is the Military Attache to the embassy. The Colonel and his wife hosted a dinner for Sir Cosmo's party in the dining hall of the hotel. We servants were relieved of serving duties and able to take a nice, quiet, dinner in the rooms.
After dinner, the ambassador, the Earl of Maynooth, met with Sir Cosmo, ostensibly in his capacity as a Royal Commissioner. Miss Whitnell, Mrs. Cuthbert, Miss Sinclair, and Mr. Ramsay accompanied him. I went along in my role as footman, lurking about the carriage while the others investigated. Emily remained at the hotel, watching over Edward and the others.
The Earl and his son, the Hon. Mr. Thomas Adair, are the only members of the embassy staff who are aware of the real reasons we are here. The league members examined Mr. Arkwright's office. Through spells and other means, they determined that a person magickally disguised as Arkwright had entered the embassy late on the evening of the 13th to remove all the papers. Apparently this person bears a strong facial resemblance to Miss Mitzi and Admiral LeCoq. It is speculated that this might be the Prussian half-brother who has been mentioned.
Edward spent the evening working on a rather large and elaborate clockwork engine, which fortunately at this stage does not require a lot of pounding or grinding. In the morning the League departs for Antwerp, where Sir Cosmo has rented an entire villa which will serve as our base of operations.
Most everyone has gone to sleep. I feel uneasy, but can not find a cause. I do not think that it is just being in this strange place. I will patrol, again.
Saturday, 17 July, 1870
Miss Chigwidgeon finally noticed that we are addressing her as "my lady," just as our Mr. Graves and the other Mr. Graves had instructed us. She instructed me not to do so. I have been trying to obey her wishes. When she gave the same instruction to David and Stuart, they each responded with, "Of course, my lady, as you say, my lady."
Miss Whitnell suggested to her that they may fear Mr. Graves' displeasure more than hers. It's understandable. They have not seen her command a storm to leave or cow a demonic skeleton with a single punch.
It seems that the mystics all had prophetic dreams. Even Miss Chigwidgeon received a message from beyond. Miss Whitnell, Mr. Ramsay, Mrs. Cuthbert, and Miss Chigwidgeon each meditated upon a different question related to the mission, and were thus attempting to receive some guidance from the spirits. Miss Whitnell hoped to learn the contents of the lost papers. Mrs. Cuthbert wished to know the location of the papers. Mr. Ramsay wished to learn the identity Gaspard du Nord, which is a name that Mr. Arkwright was asking about before his death. Miss Chigwidgeon asked the goddess to give her a clear direction of what she is supposed to do, since some previous dreams have hinted at contradictory things.
Mrs. Cuthbert described a dream in which she saw Mr. Arkwright being tortured, and then murdered. His torturing was a Prussian named Tot. His murderer as a Prussian named Schmidt, who appears to be the same creature that impersonated Arkwright to steal his papers. They were both taking orders from someone she called "the grey man." He was killed because he had learned something they didn't want Britain to know. The dream included many images of war. She also saw Baron de Ritter, who is a man they met briefly at dinner. He appeared to know the others, but not to be associated with them. The papers are apparently in the custody of the grey man.
Mr. Ramsay had a similar dream which led him to believe that the grey man, in addition to being a Prussian agent, is the person calling himself Gaspard du Nord, who has been assembling a collection of demonic books.
Miss Whitnell said she had a very similar dream as the others, involving death and war and the Prussian named Schmidt, but no information about the contents of the papers. Miss Chigwidgeon dreamed she was living in India, travelling with her sister, Fong, and married to a maharajah. On their journey they met me in a monastery, where I had taken vows and was now calling myself by the name of Ravvi. In the dream, I instructed her to sacrifice Sir Cosmo's secretary, Mr. Chadwick, because that was the only way to close the rent in the veil between worlds.
I couldn't help but notice that Miss Whitnell seemed more upset than the others, and almost relieved the Miss Chigwidgeon wanted to discuss her own dream in greater detail. I was surprised to hear that my name was Ravvi in Miss Chigwidgeon's dream, since that is the name my mother called me as a child, but, of course, Miss Chigwidgeon and the others have never heard. I was almost as disturbed by the sacrifice of Mr. Chadwick as Miss Whitnell was. I don't believe that it was a literal answer from the goddess to her question. I said as much to her, suggesting that the mystic forces already involved in the death of Mr. Arkwright may be interfering with the goddess's message.
During breakfast, Mr. Adair arrived with a message which had been sent, in code, from the British consulate in Antwerp. Mr. Frazer and Insp. MacGregor indicated that Miss Whitnell's specific talents were needed aboard H.M.S. Orion, which is in port at Antwerp.
So, after taking a train to Antwerp and unloading all the luggage into the villa, we proceeded to the waterfront, where we found five British ships in port, including the Orion. On board we met Lt. Wooster, Mr. Caine, Dr. Wilson, and Mr. O'Flaherty. They introduced us to an American named Quentin Deveril. Mr. Deveril, it seems, has been pursuing the grey man from somewhere deep in Austria, where, about a month ago, he murdered a young monk and stole something called "The Assyrian Book of the Dead" from a monastery library.
Exactly how he met up with the others I didn't quite hear, but apparently he was attacked in his hotel room by a person who matches the description of Herr Schmidt, from the dreams of the mystics. Fortunately for him, Wilson, Wooster, Caine, O'Flaherty, MacGregor, and Frazer were nearby. From the description of his abilities, I can only conclude that Schmidt is some kind of demon. He was capable of flying and carrying another person while doing so. He can become as insubstantial as the wind. The moves extremely quickly, and he's at least as strong as Mr. O'Flaherty.
O'Flaherty and Deveril had been seriously injured in their encounter, requiring Mrs. Cuthbert's powers to restore them.
Insp. MacGregor and Mr. Frazer arrived at the ship. Mr. Frazer confirmed that he has had an encounter with Schmidt before, and the Schmidt is an agent of the Prussian government.
After everyone shared information, it was decided that we would proceed as a group to the scene of Arkwright's death, which MacGregor and Frazer have already examined, but the mystics have hope of learning more. We stopped, briefly, at the consulate to send two telegrams. One to Miss Mitzi in London, asking for any assistance he might provide regarding Schmidt. The second is to LeCoq in Naples, informing him of Schmidt's location.
The site of the death was a lonely stretch of tracks a few miles from the train station. There is no physical evidence to contradict the image Mrs. Cuthbert saw in her dream of Schmidt carrying Arkwright through the air and dropping him in front of the speeding train.
After completed the survey of the site, we parted company to explore different leads. Miss Whitnell, Mrs. Cuthbert, Mr. Cuthbert, Insp. MacGregor, Mr. Frazer, and myself went to the morgue where the ladies hoped to communicate with Arkwright's spirit.
Mr. Ramsay went to the local Order of St. Jerome Chapterhouse to make inquires about the man he suspects as being the grey man.
The Marquis went shopping for supplies and weapons to deal with a fey, which is the type of demon the others believe Schmidt to be.
The rest of the party accompanied Sir Cosmo to the train factory to further establish our cover story.
We were to meet for lunch at the factory where a decision would be made as to our next move.
At the morge, Miss Whitnell and Mrs. Cuthbert quickly established that Arkwright's soul was imprisoned by some dark sorcerer. They decided to attempt to free him. They performed a longer ritual, which failed. After a few moments discussing why it had failed, they said they wished to try again. They did so, and the level of mystical power they gathered was impressive. As the ritual was concluding, I senses the presence of a hostile spirit, and saw a concentration of dark power into the flames of the large candles at the center of the circle. I leapt into the circle to get between the ladies and the flames.
The candles exploded knocking me momentarily senseless. I awoke to Mrs. Cuthbert restoring some of my strength and to see Miss Whitnell preparing for another ritual. The ladies said they had succeeded in freeing Arkwright's soul, but they needed to cast another spell in order to ensure that the dark sorcerer did not recapture him. I was not certain we should linger at the location where the enemy had already struck us once, and I could see that MacGregor, Cuthbert, and Frazer were equally concerned, but the ladies were insistent that the previous ritual would be for naught if the second was not performed.
The completed the second ritual, then urged us to hurry away, before the other sorcerer sent more trouble our way. We rushed out to the coach and Mr. Cuthbert told the driver to go faster than was prudent. We had gotten up to speed when I felt something, quite unlike any force or spirit I have encountered before. We heard someone land on the carriage, as if dropping from the sky. I heard the unmistakable sound of a neck being snapped. Before the coachman's body had fallen off the carriage, I kicked open the door and was swinging up to the rooftop, and silently recited my new mantra, Miss Chigwidgeon's Paradox.
I saw a creature whose face was, indeed, virtually identical to LeCoq's. He was dressed in a dark suit and wearing smoked glasses. His spirit was not human, nor did it quite look like any other creature I had seen before.
He was fast and strong. He was faster than I could make myself with the mantra. He was stronger than I could make myself. It took everything I knew just to keep myself alive long enough for Cuthbert and MacGregor to shoot at him.
MacGregor pulled himself up to the driver's seat and tried to reign the horses in. Frazer took his place at the side of the carriage, striking at Schmidt with Miss Whitnell's silver and steel sword.
He kept changing from solid to insubstantial. I couldn't touch him unless I could manage to hit him during the brief moment he would make himself solid to strike me. Frazer had similar luck. Both MacGregor and Cuthbert's first bullets flew through Schmidt as if he weren't there.
Cuthbert managed to time his second shot just right. Blood splattered from Schmidt's shoulder. He howled in fury and glared at Cuthbert--for which I was momentarily grateful, because I was barely able to stand, and was having difficulty breathing, since several of my ribs had been broken by his previous punches.
Then he was insubstantial again, and sinking through the carriage roof as if it weren't there. The bullet remained on the carriage for just a moment.
I heard Miss Whitnell and Mrs. Cuthbert yelling in anger or fright, I'm not certain which. Frazer and Cuthbert had ducked back inside the carriage to intercept the fiend. I knew I couldn't follow without getting in the way of the others. I moved to the back of the carriage, expecting Schmidt to come out behind us.
He did so, but he had taken Miss Whitnell captive.
I remembered the Mantra of the Seed of Energy. Its purpose is to make the intangible real. This is usually thought to be metaphorical: the intangibles are things such as hope or wisdom. But I had nothing left to try. Perhaps it could make Schmidt solid long enough for Cuthbert to shoot him again. I leapt from the carriage, pouring my remaining strength into the mantra, and praying I could seize Schmidt before the fall finished me.
When I had attempted to strike him earlier I could feel him no more than one feels the air. But this time, with the mantra, I felt something as my fingers entered his ghostly image. It was like grasping fire or burning oil--not quite solid, but not completely ephemeral.
Miss Whitnell was fighting him. She was attacking him with some sort of spell and struggling physically.
There was a bright light behind her, and I saw a spirit form out of the air. It was a man dressed as a Christian monk, weilding a long staff capped with a cross. I immediately sensed a connection between this apparition and Mrs. Cuthbert.
As all three forces came together in Schmidt, I felt the fire become solid flesh in my fingers.
And then we struck the pavement. I was aware of us all three tumbling along the cobblestones for a moment, and then everything went black.
I knew that I still lived because the pain did not stop. I knew I needed to move. I had to get up and stop Schmidt from hurting Miss Whitnell, but my strength was exhausted. I could not sense the physical world within the pain. I could not sense the goddess beyound it.
I feared I had failed.
And then I heard Mrs. Cuthbert's voice chanting. There were others there, Mr. Ramsay and several people I didn't know were standing around us. Miss Whitnell was sitting nearby, alive, though visibly shaken. Schmidt was gone.
And two more carriages were coming toward us. Edward was driving the horses as fast as they would go. The others knew we were in danger and had come to help.
Evil forces were still at work. Storm clouds were moving in at an unnatural speed. The enemy sorcerer was not finished with us.
Ramsay suggested that the Order chapterhouse would be a safer haven than the center of the street. We climbed aboard the carriages and followed him to an impressive stone building as lightning bolts flashed across the sky.
I could see two spirits in the clouds, fighting. One appeared as a fiery lion. The other was an eagle with feathers that shone like the moon.
Inside the chapterhouse more than twenty people were chanting, adding their power to an elderly man standing in the center of a circle, his hands resting on a glowing crystal. Mr. Ramsay, Miss Whitnell, and Mrs. Cuthbert joined the chanting circle.
The rest of us stood around, trying to stay out of the way. Edward found me some intact clothes to put on, as my livery was nothing more than smouldering tatters by the end of our battle.
Someone suggested that while this mystical battle was taking place might be a good time to physically assault the Teutonic Knights, which Mr. Ramsay had apparently confirmed was the strong hold of the grey man. Miss Chigwidgeon took to the idea immediately. The Marquis and Dr. Wilson were eager to join in, which came as no surprise. But even Miss Sinclair thought it was the best course of action.
The only objection anyone could raise was that just because the Order thought a particular building down the street was the stronghold of the sorcerer, that didn't necessarily mean that's where our enemy was. Miss Chigwidgeon lamented, aloud, that it was too bad all of our mystics were busy chanting and raising power, so that we had no one who could confirm that the sorcerer was attacking from inside the building.
I pointed out that I can perceive most mystical auras, and would probably be able to tell if our adversary was within a particular building.
The next thing I knew, we were headed down the street armed with the oddest collection of guns and antique weapons one could imagine.
It could see the dark sorcery pouring from the upper story of an old stone building with a sign on the front identifying it as the Grand Hall of the Knights of St. Mary.
As we were unloading from the carriages, someone inside starting breaking windows, and rifle barrels were pointed our way.
About half of the party yelled for us to take cover behind the carriages. Dr. Wilson began firing rockets up into the upper floor.
The people inside began firing at us. Our armed members began returning fire.
The Marquis decided to try to break into the building, by driving one of the carriages, backward, into the door. It didn't quite smash through the heavy oak doors, but Dr. Wilson realised that it would be easy to leap from the top of the carriage through a second story window. The Marquis followed him. Mr. O'Flaherty, grumbling all the way, made after them both.
Meanwhile, Edward had fired a few rockets into the basement of the building, and a fire had broken out. Soon we were hearing more explosions in the basement. Mr. Deveril yelled something about the explosions sounding like bullets. Mr. Cuthbert called back that there must be crates of ammunition stored in the basement. Mr. Deveril said, "If they've go bullets down there, they probably have cans full of black powder, too."
Mr. Cuthbert agreed, and said, "When those start going, we better be far away."
We began retreating.
Dr. Wilson and the Marquis had figured this out, as well, and were trying to exit the building, but had gotten tangled in the window with Mr. O'Flaherty.
The men inside the building were diving out of the windows, as smoke and flames billowed around them. Sir Cosmo took one of the men captive as we fled. He said something about needing a witness if we were going to explain this to the local authorities.
As the munitions went, the building collapsed.
We stopped at the chapterhouse just long enough to grab Miss Whitnell, Mrs. Cuthbert, and Mr. Ramsay, and they we fled to the consulate.
The consul and his staff were a bit confused when we arrived, but then Capt. William Moriarty, who has been sent over as the new Naval Attache, arrived and began questioning us in turn. The poor consul (someone referred to him as Lord Bufton, I believe it was) seemed quite flummoxed by the whole thing.
Lord Maynooth, the ambassador, eventually arrived, having taken a train from Brussells. The interviews continued. Then Lord Maynooth, Capt. Moriarty, and the consul went off to consult with the local authorities who were impatiently asking for an explanation. We were told to stay inside the consulate until further notice.
Everyone is quite worn out and tired. Miss Whitnell has been sitting on the far side of the room with some paper and a pen. She seems very intent on what she is writing down. Several members of the league have fallen asleep in various chairs and divans arranged around the room.
Miss Wilhelmina asked to speak with me a somewhat privately, over in the corner. I asked her if she wants to work on her meditation. No, she say wants to devise a means of capturing Schmidt, and wants me to explain how I made him solid. She never does ask easy questions.
Proceed to Irrational reasons
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