We are in Kosel and have found a reasonably decent Inn for the night. 

We determined fairly quickly upon our arrival here that we have followed the wrong trail, and that we must now backtrack to Potsdorf.  There are no trains until midday, so we will rest here.  Just as well, for I am wearied, and Mrs Salmalin is practically sleepwalking.  We can hardly make sound decisions in our present state. 

(11 September--later morning)

I was awakened this morning, somewhat later than is my wont, by the combined effects of the scent of breakfast and a heated but sotto-voce discussion between the Hauptmann and Feldwebel von Ebersbach, who had found us during the night.  She confirmed that Kosel was a false trail and we prepared to return toward Potsdorf —the clue about “the Château” suggests the von Ebersbach château near Potsdorf, and that is currently the best we have to go on. 

Our plan allows us enough time to enjoy the repast that Mr O’Flaherty’s valet Bey has prepared for us—the gleam in Mrs. Salmalin’s eye bodes ill for anyone who gets between her and the platter of bacon.  I have a lovely little pastry roll and some of what appears to be Mr Voach’s fresh yoghurt. 

(11 September-- afternoon)

Mrs Salmalin, Mr O’Flaherty, and I have been somewhat distracted from our mission and swept into the midst of the rest of the League, at least for the time being.

We were just gathering ourselves up to proceed to the station when we discovered that Acting Corporal Garvey was missing.  Some tracking and judicious scrying indicated that he had been taken against his will by persons unknown.  We tracked the kidnappers to the switching-yard, where freight and containers are transferred from one railroad to another—as all the trains which intersect here run on different gauge rails.  The place is a mass of train cars and warehouses, cranes, wagons, crates, and all manner of hiding-places.

It didn’t take long to pick up Garvey’s trail, as he has a very distinct scent, and had intentionally left his mark wherever he could.  We found ourselves outside one of many warehouses.  By a very interesting circumstance, we met up with none other than Dr Wilson and Mr Hammersly.  Meeting up with Mr Hammersly this close to the border of Poland gave me quite a turn, I can tell you.  The particular warehouse I was peeking into at the time was about to erupt in madness, as that cretinous so-called-Doctor Fate and his ridiculous assistant were entangled in their own device, which was in the process of shooting the roof off and…well, the usual sort of thing.
 
I could just hear some of the League, whom I had forgotten until that moment were scheduled to tour the switching-yard this very day, raising a ruckus from among the crates and equipment around this building.  It didn’t surprise me, as experience has taught me that nearly any ruckus will have Wilhelmina and Lady Cowperthwaite in the centre of it.

Imagine my surprise when I heard Garvey from a different warehouse, in the centre of a separate ruckus altogether.  I ran to this other warehouse just in time to burst in with Mr O’Flaherty and Lichtenwaller, while H Stahlmachersson and F von Ebersbach went in a different door closer to the little office where Garvey was being held.

Inside this warehouse was a group of Russian-speaking workers and two scientific-looking men—the precise copies of Doctor Fate and his assistant, whom I had just seen next-door!  This version of Doctor Fate was called Professor Rok (which is in fact Russian for “fate”), and his assistant was named Boris.  The two of them were startled by our appearance and instantly became entangled with the rocket contraption they were working on, and spilled kerosene all over their device and themselves.  Mr O’Flaherty is well acquainted with the American Fate’s assistant, and, not having seen him so close by, was certain this was the one he knew.  It was all quite a muddle. 

A group of Russian workers had run for cover when we entered, and now they came running back into the main warehouse carrying rifles with bayonets.  I stood my ground and told them firmly, in Russian, to lower their weapons, and that the room was soaked in kerosene—firing at me would be inadvisable.  They hesitated, so I took the initiative and walked toward them confidently.  I repeated my command, and Lichtenwaller underscored it with a growl.  The Russians lost their nerve—3 of them fainted dead away, and their leader slowly lowered his weapon to the floor.  I gathered up all the rifles as H Stahlmachersson and his group brought their captives out of the office. 

I had barely had time to explain to Mr O’Flaherty that the men he was talking to were not Dr Fate and the assistant of his acquaintance, when another foe from the Russian faction emerged.  This man was considerably more formidable, being somewhat similar to Mr O’Flaherty in size and girth (though nothing like him in demeanour nor in honour).  He also had a mechanical arm, such as we have seen so many of in Carpania.

This fellow also carried a large weapon, a shoulder-carried rocket device.  He was obviously accustomed to people who are cowed by him, as he demanded our unconditional surrender with little in the way of preliminaries.  I repeated my warning about the kerosene, but he replied in a cavalier fashion that he was fireproof.  I asked his terms (only in order to stall him of course), meanwhile trying to communicate silently with “Hugo.”  Hugo confirmed that the large man’s mechanical arm was made by Zacharias, and powered by the same crystals as the others of that kind.  He relayed the same information to Mrs Salmalin, who wasted no time in mystically manipulating the energies of the crystals.

The man’s arm abruptly ceased to obey his will, sticking straight out from his body and spasming.  While he was thus distracted, I ran forward and seized him around the head (which necessitated me climbing up his person like shinning up a tree--undignified but effective).  Lichtenwaller assisted me in subduing and disarming him, and we bound him very firmly.

Meanwhile, Mr O’Flaherty had disentangled the Russian scientists from their malfunctioning equipment and we were evacuating the kerosene-soaked building with all deliberate speed.  Mrs Salmalin concluded her chanting.  A light breeze swirled by, dissipating most of the vapours. 

We had little time to catch our collective breath.  As soon as we were outside, we went to see if our colleagues needed our assistance.  The enormous crashing I had heard during our own confrontation proved to be a result of Wilhelmina using the switching crane to pick up and swing a carriage around the train yard, knocking down a water tower in order to douse some flames before they could really explode.  The warehouse where so-called-Doctor Fate had been working had opened up and from it had issued an airship, which inflated itself and rose into the sky, carrying some of our partisans who had been investigating.  This accounted for the wails and shrieks in Mrs Wooster’s most plaintive tones, and the cheery reassurances of Lt Wooster.  Lady Cowperthwaite and Mr Salmalin were also aboard.  Fortunately, everyone escaped before the airship exploded--it was to be expected, as the airship had been designed by so-called-Doctor Fate.

We were "requested" by the local constables to come to the police station to give statements, along with the enormous collection of miscreants we had apprehended.  Honestly, I can't imagine why there should be such a concentration of intelligence agents, eccentric inventors, and just plain madmen here at this time--it's meant to be a royal wedding, for heaven's sake, not a convocation of insanity.  As if just our League weren't enough trouble for this tiny nation. 

We, at least, are fortunate enough to be in favour with the Monarch.  He sent a royal emissary, Prince Stephan zu Sponheim, to gather us up and bring us back to Potsdorf via express train.  The Prince seems to find the madness that is the League quite amusing.  He seems to genuinely like Wilhelmina, even when she is at her most annoyingly precocious. 

We will be arriving in Potsdorf shortly.  I must take a few minutes to catch up on the rest of the League's activities with Benton before we are ushered into the Royal Presence.  

(later)

Well, His Majesty was not entirely pleased with the damage to the switching-yard, but I'm sure things would have gone worse for us had he actually believed we were responsible.  He seems bent on returning us to the status of guests to be entertained, and has assigned us duties of attendance in various social activities.  He was obstinate in not listening to all of our warnings-- I had the feeling he wishes to maintain an illusion of non-involvement, yet Iam certain he will take some pains to discover the truth of what we have said by his own means.  He is certainly no fool, though he likes to be underestimated by his foes. 

We were able to exchange tales while we waited in one of the Palace libraries. The portion of the League that has remained in Carpania has not been entirely idle. 
The highlights include:

-a rocket attack by ill-trained and ill-equipped anarchists (using a so-called-Doctor Fate designed rocket system, I might add)
-a call to the workshop of Master Zacharias, who was not receiving visitors.  One of his assistants is reported by Mrs Cuthbert to be a goblin disguised a s dwarf.
-a visit to the workshop of Master Schultz, the clockwork toymaker
-a ball at the university, featuring the severe disarray of a large library and another anarchist attack including a possible "ghost tiger"
-the already-mentioned Groom's Hunt, wherein Wolfgang von Ebersbach made a nuisance of himself.  Also of note, our Wilhelmina distinguished herself by shooting the largest stag, and therefore was the belle of the evening's ball.  Sir Spencer shared the honour of killing a large boar with His Majesty.  Lady Cowperthwaite and Mrs Wooster were also honoured for excellence in hunting.  I might find this sort of hunting distasteful, but at least our colleagues do it well.
-a visit to a clock tower, which immediately collapsed on itself. 
-Lt Wooster has been infected with the Hugo Effect--he was in proximity to the Carpanian Chief Inspector of Police (who has several prosthetic limbs) when the man was taken with a sudden seizure.
-Inspector MacGreggor and Mr Frazer have continued their investigation into the death of Lord Paul Sackville, and the subsequent death of Mr Julian Lamb.  There is some evidence to suggest connexions to both the Zacharias clock failures and the several factions producing armaments in Kosel.

While we were in the Library, Lady Cowperthwaite noticed a group portrait of the Godmothers, revered locally as saviours of the royal family some 50 years past.  One of them is most definitely Lady Cowperthwaite's Great-grandmother, whom we know as Nanny.  I don't recognise the other two; Wilhelmina says says she saw another painting while at the university of the older of the other two "godmothers" facing another apparent sorceress with evident hostility.  That other sorceress is named Rosamund.  It seems more than possible that she is at least related to the Rosamund of the mirrored locket, and could well be the very same person.


Sunday, 12 September, 1875
(around 2 o'clock a.m)

At last we have returned to Sir Spencer's Lodge. 

At the command of His Majesty, most of our party attended the Opera.  Mrs Salmalin, Mr O'Flaherty and I attempted to plead the urgency of our mission, but the king would not be moved.  We were hard pressed to accede graciously, our thoughts are much upon Arnwulf's danger, but we must have the cooperation of the crown  if we are to succeed.  So, I sat through several hours of recitative on a semi-historical theme.  The sad irony is that Benton, who would actually have enjoyed this, was required to remain at the Palace writing reports, along with several of the gentlemen of our party.  I had to impose upon others to bring me refreshments--I was ravenous, and must have eaten four oranges and three bowls of nuts myself.

Although it was terribly late when we made our way back here to the lodge, I had to look in on the children. 

It was a great relief to see them, mostly in one piece.  They are light sleepers and woke when I looked in, and then nothing would do but I came in to talk with them for a time.  Caroline showed me her splinted leg, and I admired her bravery, and in turn praised Robert's ability to keep his seat on his horse.

Violet tells me Caroline is already a demon for speed on her crutches.  All the same, she wants Wilhelmina to make her a clockwork bath chair, but only if she can make it go fast.  I pray that Wilhelmina will be too busy with attending tea parties and dances to build any such thing.  

I sang them to sleep with a bit of that dwarf ballad.

In the morning, after church services, Mrs Salmalin and I plan to visit Feldwebel von Ebersbach and learn whaterver she can tell us about the Château.  Until then, I will try to get some sleep.

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