Frankengeld Pt. 41

Previously in Frankengeld. Damion has been woken in the early hours to find a soldier ready to escort him to Durishaus. The Chief of Police requires his help at a scene of murder. Durishaus! Damion recruits Alicia and Freida to assist him, and they investigate. Costache and Bogdan are dead, as is Damion's Mother Marianne. Gerda has died from her impalement, with Alicia 'tending' to her, to make her undead. Karl has been stabbed through the shoulder, is badly wounded, and may also die. Belali is about to get into bed with Karl, with the intention of keeping him warm.

Now read on...

26th June in the year 1784, very early in the morning.

As she removed her blouse I caught sight of her small, but remarkably pointed, breasts. They were very firm and quivered with every movement of her body. But it was the unusual markings that really drew my eye. From a spiral on each shoulder a line of dots ran across the top of each breast, down between them, and then circled around the aureole twice to end pointing at her prominent nipples. I could not initially work out what these marks were. They were not tattoos, and they were too artistic to be torture. Then I realised that they were little scars, pricks by some thorn or similar item, perhaps as an initiation to womanhood.

Her skirt dropped to reveal her narrow waist, generous buttocks, and a thick thatch of black curly pubic hair over her quim. For a moment I wondered what it would be like to penetrate such a dark cavern, my light-skinned phallus, into her dusky body, then duty dragged me back to the task in hand as I watched her slip under the sheets beside my brother, and snuggle up close.

"Yes," I told her. "That will work. But I will have a word with Bruno about some bedpans. We would not want my brother waking and overexerting himself on finding you next to him."

She grinned, an impish smile of delight. I was pleased that her spirit had not been broken by her maiming and slavery but I could not stay and tell her this. There was much to do. I thanked her and almost ran to rejoin the others. Talking about bedroom romps had reminded me of my sister, and I had remembered another fact about the monastery at Gelenberg. What if the Abbot had not been taking Elodie to the monastery Guest House but somewhere else?

If he had wanted to get Elodie out of Durishaus and into safe accommodations he could have simply taken her to a reputable tavern in Carlsbruck. The innkeeper would have been delighted to receive such an honoured guest and would, doubtless, have pampered and cared for her as if she was his own daughter. The fact that the Abbot had taken her to the monastery at Gelenberg might mean he intended to place Elodie in the other establishment on that site, the Asylum!

When I got back to the Chief, Alicia and Freida I found, however, that I was still required and could not yet leave. "We have one more to interrogate while we wait for the sun to permit a search," the Chief said. "Your steward. I need you to make him compliant."

"Bruno is an observant man," I admitted. "He may have much to tell."

We walked across to the servants quarters and the Chief hammered on the door. After a few seconds it was opened and Bruno stood there. He invited us in and took us to the staff room, the equivalent of a withdrawing room for their class.

"Tell me what you know of these events," demanded the Chief.

Bruno thought for a moment. He was probably working out, even in the midst of a murder inquiry, what family secrets he should keep. The Chief and Freida noted his pause which made me decide that honesty might be the best policy against these two clever sleuths.

"Tell all, Bruno," I said. "My Father is gone from this place, Mother is dead, as is Gerda. My brother is badly wounded and may not survive. I am the most senior of our family able to advise you. And I advise you to tell the Chief all you know."

Bruno nodded, though I noted he had gone white as a sheet. It was clear he had not heard until now that his mistress was dead. I wondered if he had feelings for my Mother, or if she had simply requested him to pleasure her, and he had complied.

"Your Father had ordered distant family, and some friends, to gather for a handfasting," he explained. "It was to be a very private occasion with minimal servant contact, to avoid gossip."

"For whom was the handfasting?" asked the Chief.

"Master Damion and mistress Elodie," came the reply.

"Not to each other," gasped Freida.

"No," Bruno smiled. "Marriage partners had been found for each of them. Lord Frankengeld was determined that there would be no more delays in getting them settled with their life partners. He was annoyed at your avoidance, master Damion, and your sister's delaying strategies."

"So Herr Doctor," said the Chief. "Why were you not there?"

Time to tell him the truth, as far as I could.

"I was there, at the start," I said. "For I was tricked into attending the event. Yesterday afternoon I was sent a letter stating that Elodie was seriously ill and needed my assistance. When I arrived at the house I was conducted to the ballroom but, once inside, I was manhandled by Bogdan and Costache and forced to place an engagement ring onto the finger of their sister, Katy. The woman my Mother and Father had chosen for me."

Bruno spoke up spontaneously, "I was told to take master Damion to the ballroom when he arrived, and to say nothing to him. But I had no idea he had been deceived. I am sorry."

"Not your fault, Bruno," I assured him.

"What happened next?" asked Freida. I could see that this was the question the Chief was going to ask as well. Suddenly I was the focus of questions, not Bruno.

"The Abbot of Gelenberg," I said. "Had been invited to the event to do the ceremony. But, for forms sake, there was to be what Father called 'a suitable pause' between engagement and marriage."

"So, you returned to Carlsbruck," suggested the Chief.

"I could not," I admitted. "I was to be married to Katy after merely one hour. I was taken away and put in my room by Bogdan and Costache - the two you found slain in the ballroom - who were to guard me while the family indulged their carnality. My Father had decided that the event would be one that honoured ancient family traditions."

Everyone contemplated this revelation. I decided, I'm not sure why, that I needed to explain the Fucking Stocks.

"I can confirm that, when I was in the ballroom earlier yesterday, Elodie, Gerda and Mother were all in the Fucking Stocks. The ladies were there to provide... er... gratification to the guests. I had been told, when I came of age, the purpose of that item. In ancient times it was used to hold women so they could be freely used by men. Either captives, servants, or sometimes members of the family. I had never actually seen it used, until now our costume balls had been raucous and saucy but never actual orgies. During the engagement ceremony - such as it was - I was shocked to see the three ladies of the house, naked, bent over by the device, as they waited to be abused. And an empty space, presumably for Katy once the marriage had been consummated."

"So, Herr Doctor," said the Chief, possibly anxious to get back to the matter in hand and avoid thinking about the strange erotic practices of aristocratic society. "Why are you not married? Or are you? Is this Katy now your wife?"

"I was rescued by one of the guests, a young lady called Monifa, who took pity on me and released me from my captivity before I could be forced to make my vows."

Accurate, and avoided mentioning a magical cat.

"Together we returned to Carlsbruck, I believe we conversed with some of your men where our estate track meets the main road, near the Market Square."

I said this hoping that my interrogators did not think my attempt to establish an alibi was too obvious.

"I was happy to have escaped a wedding at pistol point. And I do not consider myself truly engaged, since it was forced upon me."

Bruno sat impassively while I mentioned my rescuer. He must have known that Monifa was not a guest. He had probably introduced each real guest as they arrived at the ballroom. Opening the door onto that pagan orgy, stating their names, and closing it again to keep what was happening as private as possible. But, loyally, he said nothing and did not contradict me. The attention turned back to him.

"Master Bruno," said the Chief. "What did you see of the violence that broke out in the ballroom?"

"I was instructed to remain outside the ballroom," he explained. "Ready to respond to any requests for more food or drink. So I saw little, but heard much. I saw the two brothers of Damion's intended bride come downstairs. This was much later than an hour after he was taken up, so I would guess master Damion was long gone by then. They seemed very angry and were complaining to each other that they had been humiliated. Perhaps they had lapsed in their vigilance, they seemed to me to have the appearance of persons just woken up from sleep."

"They went inside and I heard angry words being exchanged. And the voices, Damion, of your Mother and Gerda. They appeared to be arguing too. The loudest voice was Lord Frankengeld. He seemed very angry, worse than I have ever experienced in all my years here. His voice was so loud I would guess he could be heard all about the house."

The Chief pounced on this statement, "What did he say?" This seemed, to all of us I think, an opportunity to understand the motives of our murderer.

"It was strange," replied Bruno. "He was as angry with his own family as with Bogdan and Costache, possibly more so. He ranted that this family was useless to him if it could not be made to do his will. That he would wipe the slate clean and start again. The Mistress, Lady Frankengeld, tried to calm him but he was having none of it. I believe he went to the Fucking Stocks at that moment, and proceeded to abuse the ladies, because I heard their screams, and the voice of Karl objecting. The abuse went on for one hour at least, each woman screaming out, so I believe he worked his anger out on each in turn. His comments about them were truely vile. It seemed to me, listening on the other side of the door, that none of the guests tried to stop him. But he was armed with many pistols and I knew he had cleaned and loaded them himself earlier that day. Perhaps they were his guarantee that Master Damion and Mistress Elodie would say their vows as instructed."

"Then, sated, he turned his anger onto the family who were to become related by marriage. He described the father as incompetent, the daughter as stupid, and the sons as fools who could not be trusted with the simple task of guarding his wimp of a son. Your pardon, master Damion, his words not mine. I began to feel very nervous that the situation was about to spiral out of control."

It was Freida who asked the next question. "What did you do?"

"When I first came to work at Durishaus I was told that there was a vein of darkness that ran through the Frankengeld family. And that this was why the servants slept in a separate building. A building with strong walls and iron-bound doors. I was urged by old Fillippe, my predecessor, to honour the family but, when the dark came, to guard and protect the servants."

"The shouting continued for half an hour by the hall clock. Then I heard a struggle, followed by gun shots, and judged that this was one of those times of darkness of which I had been warned. I gathered those servants who were in the house and moved them out. Those who were indentured to the guests I sent to the stables, and took my own staff to the servants quarters. Then I locked us all in. We heard horses being collected and coaches made ready and departing, but we dare not emerge until your men, sir, arrived to take charge."

He nodded at the Chief as he said this.

"I am ashamed that I did not try to prevent this tragedy, sir. But what could I do? I am, after all, only a servant, sworn to obey my betters."

We thanked him and returned to the front of the house. Here the Chief of Police left us to organise his search, and we shared notes about what we had learned.

"Your father," said Alicia. "Lost control last night and let his wolfwere nature dominate him."

"And," said Freida. "Did you hear your servant state that he said 'he was furious with this family'. For me this suggests he was thinking of his Harem as his other family."

"I agree," I said. "Presumably if Kurt lay with his wolfwere women with vigour he could quickly father children to replace Karl, Elodie and myself. Or he could use his wealth to marry an heiress and start afresh with a human wife."

"How old is he?" asked Freida.

"He has always looked exactly the same age to me," I admitted. "Could the curse give him a long lifetime? "

"Possibly," said Alicia. "I would need to talk to my sire, he would know. He has worked for him for at least seventy years, if I remember aright."

"In my mind," I replied, rather astonished at this revelation. "I had assumed he was twenty when he fathered Karl so I always thought of him as in his late forties."

"We must stop him from being a terror to a new family," said Freida.

"Yes," I agreed. "But first we must rescue Elodie. If we wait until we have dealt with my Father she will, I fear, have undergone such experiences in the Gelenberg Asylum that she will never be able to come home."

Everyone agreed that this must be done and, if she was actually safe in the Monastery Guest House, she could still be brought home to number 34. I approached the Chief of Police and told him of my plan.

"I will leave you to search for my father," I said. "I will follow the Abbot of Gelenburg and bring my sister home safe to the Doctor's House."

"That has virtue," he replied.

"And if she is in a fit state to be interviewed then you may have another witness to tonight's evil deeds."

He nodded and I ran to get my horse, leading it out to the courtyard. I turned to Alicia and Freida.

"Alicia," I said. "Please look after my sister-in-law. And I revoke part of your vow. You may hurt my Father in any way you like if he returns to this house to finish his work."

Alicia bowed deeply and swept away to sit vigil over her new sister in unlife.

"Freida," I said. "You have the map and all our research. Please set your mind to planning our expedition. We will depart as soon as I have your dear friend Elodie safely back with us."

Freida wiped away a tear and vowed to make all ready. As I wheeled my horse out of the grounds the last thing I saw of her was her requesting escort from the soldiers back to town.

I galloped home, making the best speed I could. I was gratified to see Philip's coach tied up outside number 34 when I passed. I left my horse at our local stables, requesting that they return it to Durishaus when convenient, and walked back the two streets to the house, trying to get my mind together for the next task.

As I entered the hallway I was greeted by a sea of faces. Their expressions told me I must explain, however emotionally hard that would be, what had happened at Durishaus. I sat them all down in the kitchen and went quickly through the events of the last few hours.

"Your mother, and Gerda, both dead!" said Helena, putting her hand in mine in a gesture of support.

"Yes, and Karl is injured. I do not know if he will survive, it is in God's hands now," I replied. "But, at this time, there is one person who needs our help more."

Everyone sat quietly, waiting for me to elucidate.

"I can do nothing more for Mother," I said. "Except to ensure a suitable funeral. Gerda is now with the unliving, and I believe Alicia will care for her. Karl is being looked after by Belali, and though she is the least of servants I trust her to do the right thing. It is Elodie we must think of now."

"You say she was brought out from Durishaus by the Abbot?" said Lord Philip.

"Yes," I said. "According to the Chief of Police the Abbot raised the alarm about violence at Durishaus when he paused his journey in the market square. And he informed the soldiers he talked to that he had Elodie in the carriage with him. But how much the Abbot knew about the final events at Durishaus I do not know."

"What do you mean?" asked Helena.

"He must have seen the deaths of Costache and Bogdan, he was in the ballroom with the rest of the guests," I explained. "What happened in the Red Room was behind closed doors but Elodie might have told him of events in there up to the point where she escaped. Which was just before Gerda was impaled, if Freida's interpretation is correct."

"So he would have known of the murder of your mother, and the plight of your sister-in-law," said Lord Philip.

"Yes," I replied. "He may have made his carriage ready and then seen Elodie run from the house. Taking her on board and questioning her he would know much. About Mother, and that Karl was fighting for his wife's life. But probably not the outcome of that fight."

"So he might believe that, if Karl failed to stop Lord Frankengeld, then he and Gerda died too," said Helena. "And he might know that Kurt would not be the sort to surrender himself but would go on the run from the authorities. With most of the family either dead, or a fugitive, only you Damion would be left to petition for Elodie's return."

"Yes," I held her hand. "He thinks me weak. Perhaps he feels he can take Elodie to the Asylum and there indulge his passions for young flesh in a place where he has complete command."

"Or," said Helena, more charitably. "He believes she needs a safe haven in the Monastery Guest House, and has taken her there until the chaos at Durishaus is resolved."

"Either way," I said, firmly. "I must travel to Gelenberg, discover the truth, and bring my sister home."

"And I shall come with you," said Helena. She had that look on her face that said I was not going to leave her behind.

"And you will need me," said Monifa. This was a statement of certainty. Did the little sorceress see the future somehow and know her powers would be required?

"And you definitely need my excellent driving skills," said Lord Philip. "I'm not bad with a blade either, if it turns nasty."

So that was agreed. Una, Anya and Yani would stay and guard the house, taking any messages from Durishaus or the Chief of Police. And our intrepid foursome would set off as soon as we could get organised. Then we discussed strategy.

Philip got us started, "A raid during the hours of darkness would be possible. There is enough time to get to Gelenberg in the evening, we would only have to wait a little time then before storming the Asylum. We fight our way to her cell and rescue the fair maiden!"

We nodded, at first happy to leave it to this man, none of us had raided an asylum before. He sounded supremely confident, his aristocratic upbringing making him a born leader, but what if he was leading us to disaster?

I voiced a doubt, "An attack might leave us open to complaint from the Abbey. And what if someone is injured? Or killed?"

"Where," Una asked. "Is Elodie being held?"

"In the Asylum," I replied.

"Or in the Guest House," Helena reminded me, determined to see the more optimistic side of things.

"Yes," said Una. "But where in the Asylum? Or Guest House. You could waste much time trying to find her. And if you are fighting monks at the same time."

She did not have to say more. The image of us flailing around, trying to find the correct cell, knee deep in dead Dominicans or Cistercians or whatever they were, showed the dangers of such an approach.

"You would," Anya suggested. "Be better using authority to gain access. Damion surely has a blood right to visit his sister. And the pair of you..." She indicated Philip and I. "Should have enough diplomatic clout to gain her freedom. Especially against monks with less authority."

Helena spoke up again, "Why not do a melding of both, but with a degree of cunning?"

We all looked at her.

"We go as soon as we can depart," she explained. "But we stay at the tavern as if we were ordinary travellers so none at the Abbey realise that anything is amiss. Then, in the night, we visit the Asylum when there are bound to be fewer guards. We do so quietly."

Here she looked sternly at Philip, then continued, "Quietly, so as to not raise the alarm. If we find Elodie, and can immediately leave with her, then we do so and return to Carlsbruck. If we can find her, but she cannot be removed, then we mark her location, and return to the monastery first thing in the morning. If we cannot find her then we must simply return the next day. In the morning Damion insists on seeing her, both as a relative and a doctor, and Philip uses his authority to demand entry. If they fob us off, saying she is not there, or try to misdirect us, then we should at least be able to see through their lies."

It was a long speech from my medical assistant but there was general approval. As a plan it was as much as we could hope for. And, according to military sources - I think it was a general from a county called Lancashire in England who said it - a plan does not survive much beyond the first pistol shot. Which I hoped we would not have to fire.

It would take most of the daylight hours to reach Gelenberg Monastery. We quickly collected together our items of travelling equipment. I put the ancient dagger, given to me by Lord Mutunus, onto my belt and Helena strapped on her long dagger. The crossbow, and a supply of bolts, completed the armoury for our trip.

Monifa tried out a few costumes before settling on some dark toned riding gear. She looked like an ancient assassin, adept in sneaking around in the dark. The impression was only broken by her youthful face and ready smile. I doubted that any assassin was so ready to grin the way she did.

Helena emerged from the laboratory with a carpet bag full of medical supplies. Una had put together food and drink for the journey. And Yani made himself busy moving items to the coach.

We gathered around the strangely coloured coach. The light of dawn was growing, pink and wholesome. I was saddened that Alicia could not be with us but the weather suggested today would be cloudless and sunny, and we were to visit a religious institution, she would not have been comfortable. Better that she stays with Gerda to teach her the ways of the undead, and prevent her from seducing and drinking the blood of Durishaus servants, or feasting on the good people of the town.

"I'd like to borrow your assistant," said Philip.

"Sorry?" I replied, confused. What did he want to borrow her for? He surely knew the urgency of our departure, but I knew he was a rake and sex, at any time, and in any place, comes easily to that breed.

"I'm thinking of the journeys," he explained. "If we find your sister, and she's not well, then you'll need to care for her. And you might need your young friend to help with her sorcery."

He indicated Monifa who was, at that moment, climbing into the coach. Monifa looking fascinated by the vehicle, for - of course - it was unlike anything that was around when she was growing up.

"That's true." I said.

"So, I'm going to teach your assistant to drive my coach," he grinned. "Then she can take the reins... if I need to do something else." He patted the pistols in his belt.

Helena's eyes went wide, and she was about to protest, but I got in first.

"Helena showed herself very competent with a single horse trap," I asserted. "I am happy to lose her as a medical assistant, for a time, for you to teach her a useful skill. But, it must be her decision."

As Philip climbed up to the driving bench, confident no woman could refuse to be tutored by him, Helena pulled me to one side.

"Damion!" she whispered. "The only time I took charge of a trap I sat terrified. I was useless. I can't do this."

"Have confidence, Helena," I whispered back. "You do not know you cannot do this, only that you have not had the opportunity to try. Philip will not put you in danger. And he is right. We may need you to help in this way for the return journey."

She shrugged, then clambered up. I gave her a boost. A simple push to help her you understand, my hand under her buttock. She glanced down at me with a grin. "Not now, Damion," she said. "I've got a coach to drive."

The journey was without incident and Philip was true to his boast, he was a skilled driver and, under his delicate use of the reins, the horses made excellent progress. But we were climbing to the Gorbo pass and beyond and the incline was tough. It still took over eight hours, by my pocket watch, for us to arrive at Gelenberg. I was not surprised that he requested Helena to help him. Driving for all that time must have been very tiring. The sun was dipping below the hills when we finally stopped. I opened the door, got out, and Monifa presented herself to be lifted down.

"It is a remarkable device, this coach," she looked at me with big, serious, eyes as I held her by her slender waist and lowered her to the ground. "But I am glad we finally stopped, for I ache, everywhere!"

Helena stepped down from the driving bench, and I held her hand to steady her. She leant close and whispered, "Lord Philip has taught me many things," she whispered. "I took the reins on several occasions, though it was hard. But, you were right, I can do this thing."

We had been unable to send a letter to book rooms in advance so had to trust that there would be vacancies, and we were lucky. Three rooms were available and I paid for two nights, with the pretext that we were to visit the Abbot, and told the Tavern keeper we might stay an extra night if our business lasted longer. I had determined that if we were unsuccessful at our rescue attempt at the Asylum I would meet with the Abbot himself and attempt to shame him into releasing Elodie.

I wondered why the Abbot was so compliant, and complicit, in our family orgy and the attempted forced marriages. Did my Father know some secret the Abbot was keen to keep hidden? It can't be a love child, for it was common for a senior clergyman to have a mistress, and the authorities rarely made a fuss. After all, a member of the clergy, in an order where poverty was a requirement, would not disturb the chains of hereditary and deprive someone of their estate. No, it must be far worse. Perhaps the Abbot visited a Nunnery on occasion and 'tutored' the young girls who were about to take their vows. I could quite see him telling them that they were about to be married to Christ, but needed to experience one of his earthly representatives first, so they could understand the ecstasy that was to come.

Our host asked if we required dinner and I gladly paid for a private room and a full spread, for we had only had the chance to nibble travelling food on the journey up to Gelenberg. It was Lyra who served us our food, of course, and once we were tucking into the wonderful food she, on the pretext of refilling my glass, leant in close and whispered to me and Helena.

'Would the kind Herr and his mistress like a fire in their room tonight?'

She used a form of the word fire, and in such a way, that we were both aware she meant the fires of passion, and not half a dozen logs.

Helena looked at me smiling, but I thought it would be better to keep focussed on the task in hand. After all how long had it been before Lyra had let the merchants sleep the last time we were here? Helena picked up on my reluctance and answered, "Thank you Lyra, but no thanks. We have important business to conduct and need to keep our wits about us. Duty before pleasure, after all. Perhaps next time we are travelling this way."

"Oooh!", said Lyra with a lascivious look on her face. "Duty before pleasure... I know a man who says that all the time."

She moved on around the table and whispered to Philip instead. I could not catch what he said in reply because I was distracted, remembering back to my betrothal. That the Abbot had used that exact phrase when telling the young, slender, guest he had been fingering to be patient. I was now convinced that the Abbot was very familiar with the sins of the flesh, and that he liked women the age of my sister.

We went up as soon as the meal was concluded. Monifa was, once again, delighted to have a room to herself. The first thing she did was to open her shoulder bag and remove the cat mummy, placing it on the bedside table. What a strange girl, I thought, any other girl of her age would have carried make-up, jewellery, or sweetmeats in her bag, not the mummified remains of an ancient pet. Returning to our room we retired to bed early and simply lay on the top of the sheets to rest. I opened my pocket watch, and placed it near me, and when it showed midnight Helena and I picked up our things and went out into the corridor.

A light tap on Monifa's door was answered immediately. She slipped out into the corridor with just a quick backwards, regretful, glance at the room. The same knock, on Philip's door, got a groggy, "I'll be with you presently."

When he finally opened the door we could see his bed was rumpled, and occupied. Lyra grinned at us, clutching a sheet between her breasts. Philip looked exhausted. He blew a kiss at Lyra and closed the door.

"She offered some sort of fire in my room," he whispered. He seemed to want to justify being found with Lyra. "I confess I did not understand her language entirely, and just said yes out of politeness."

We smiled, he was not the first traveller, we suspected, to have got more than they expected from the lusty Lyra.

"What a woman," Philip continued in a low voice. "I will never judge a book by its cover ever again."

There were two ways out of the tavern. Helena and I were in the room previously occupied by Sophie, so we could remove the nails, open the shutter, and climb down the ivy. Or we could try the front door. The female costume, beautiful as it is, is unsuited to climbing. It was agreed we would try the tavern door. The stairs creaked alarmingly as we descended but the sound was drowned out by the snoring from two locals we found sleeping in the bar room. They lay sprawled across the bench seats, either too drunk to make their way home, or desirous of the first breakfasts to be served in the morning. I gave them the benefit of the doubt and assumed the latter.

The key for the door was hung on a hook nearby. We could use it to let ourselves out. But then we would either have to leave the tavern unlocked, or we would be outside with a locked tavern and their key in our hands. Philip strode forward purposefully, examined the lock, and pulled a set of picks of intricately wrought steel from his pocket. He inserted the fine steel tools into the keyhole and commenced to wriggle them about, feeling - presumably - for the moving parts of the mechanism. After just two minutes he removed them.

"Sorry," he whispered. "Only ever watched it done. Sir Gregory made it look easy."

The snorers simultaneously paused in their cacophony, startling us, and in the ensuing silence there was a rustle of cloth. Lyra was stood there, watching us and, in our fascination at watching a master sleuth at work, we had not noticed her arrive. She was nearly wrapped in the sheet from Philip's bed, it being not quite enough to cover all her Rubenesque curves. Curves of breast and thigh escaped in a tempting way.

"If you wanted a walk in the dark you only had to ask," she quietly informed us. Then she took the key from the hook and unlocked the door. As she opened it, and a draught of cool air hit us, she pulled Philip to one side and whispered in his ear. We nodded our thanks to her and moved into the darkness of the road.

"Philip," I asked, as we turned up the hill towards the village. "Why do you carry lock-picks that you cannot use?"

"It is, I admit, to impress the ladies," he replied. "It's a real ice breaker with them, and they love a modern day Robin Hood."

I did not understand the reference so, as we climbed, he quietly explained the story about the English folklore hero, and his fight against the greedy Sheriff of Nottingham. Up until now I had only associated Nottingham with quality lace, now I had a tale of daring and adventure to broaden my knowledge. I determined to find a book on Robin Hood at some stage. I considered asking Lord Scunthorpe what Lyra had whispered in his ear, but decided he would tell me if he wanted to share.

We passed through Gelenberg village like ghosts, making little sound and illuminated by the light of the stars and a sliver of moonlight. The houses had strong shutters and even stronger doors. I decided this was a place where, whatever danger befell you, they were unlikely to open their doors to strangers. It was more likely that they would put their hands over their ears until the screaming stopped, making a mental note to go out in the morning and clean the blood off the walls. We would get no help from these people.

There was a gap between the last village house and the first Abbey buildings. Here it became steeper and the road slewed from side to side like a snake, making its way up the mountain. To have followed the road would have been a less arduous climb, but would have added considerable distance. We did not need to though, for steps had been cut into the hillside for those on foot. Each flight was intersected by the road, which gave a little relief, an area of flat cobbles to allow you to get your breath back.

There were three buildings ahead of us. The largest was the monastery which, if it was built to the usual pattern of these establishments, would have a church, cloisters, chapter house, dormitory and a kitchen block. The fact that it was a religious establishment was part of the reason I did not invite Alicia along. I had hoped that the Asylum was a separate building, but I could not guarantee it.

Ahead I saw a grand three storey building, clearly the Abbot's dwelling with, perhaps, accommodation for important guests as well. And finally a low building which I judged must be the hospital and asylum. As we moved away from possible detection by the villagers the chance of detection by the monks grew higher. Did they not get up in the middle of the night to perform a service? As I considered this a low, solitary, bell rang out - it was calling them to matins, prayers in the middle of the night. Good, I thought, monks would be dragging themselves from their beds to pray in the church, which meant they were occupied, and any insomniacs would not be lying awake listening for unusual sounds in the night.

The low building resolved itself as we approached into two halves, each with a different architectural style. Half the building, the part closer to the monastery, had large windows with stained glass in them, the other half was more like a fortified house, with narrower windows covered with shutters.

"Is that gloomy block," asked Philip, pointing at the fortified half. "The Asylum?"

"I would think so," I replied. "And I think the other half is a hospital." We were to come to the Asylum first, so we could see if Elodie was there, before venturing closer to the Monastery to check the Abbot's guest house. The low bell had stopped now and was replaced by the faint sound of plainchant.

Helena pulled at my sleeve and pointed at a deep shadow on the side of the building, "Is there a door there?"

"Yes," said Monifa, in a voice barely above a whisper. "I can feel Elodie in there but the stones are heavy and full of dark thoughts, they fight with me."

Such a strange thing to say. Had the stones taken on the despair of the inmates? Was that even possible? We quickly moved towards the door, the shadow of the porch giving shelter, and found a solid oak and iron door. Philip ran his fingers over the surface where a lock should be and found... nothing.

"There is no lock," he whispered in frustration. "Though there is a ring of iron to pull with. I would guess it is bolted on the inside."

"So many things now," said Monifa. "That are made from the bones of the gods. When I was a child the only iron was in the Pharaoh's knife." She looked at the door then all of us. "The tavern lock was possibly too complicated for me, and my Lord Philip was anxious to show his skill, but if these are simple bars that slide then I will try to open them."

So, she probably could have opened the tavern door, but was sensitive to the ego of an English Lord. She pressed herself up against the Asylum door and, for two minutes, said and did nothing that I could detect, though it may have been that she was somehow 'seeing' what was on the other side. Then she put a hand onto the door just above her head, and the other an equal distance below the pull ring. She drew her hands back towards the hinges of the door and there was a gentle scraping sound.

"Try opening it now, Damion."

I took the ring, its metal cold in my hand, and gently pulled. The door came open on well oiled hinges. We were in.

"Inside everyone, quickly," I whispered.

Helena slid in first, looking left and right, then Monifa, I was third and Scunthorpe brought up the rear with cunning backward glances to check we were not observed. He seemed to be enjoying himself, the lazy dandy replaced by a man of action.

Inside, oil lamps, their wicks adjusted to throw the smallest amount of light, illuminated a corridor that ran the width of the building. There were corridors that ran left and right and an archway into an open area with brighter light to the right. I gestured for the rest of our rescue party to stay where they were and moved forwards, being as stealthy as possible.

Peeking round the corner I found myself looking at the back of a seated monk, or perhaps a lay brother - one of their servants. He was sitting at a little desk, perusing a book. Clearly he was the night attendant. The open area contained doors to cells, six of them, and - as I watched - there came a moan and a low babble of words from one of the cells. It was a woman's voice, though it did not sound like my sister's. The brother stood up, took a bunch of keys from a hook on the wall, went to the cell door, opened it with a long bronze key, and went inside. There were whispered threats, then the sound of a slap, and the moans stopped.

I retreated straight away. There was the possibility that, as he returned to his seat, he might see me. I returned to my colleagues and put a finger over my mouth to indicate they should keep quiet. We moved away from the guard room down one of the corridors before I dare whisper what I had found.

"There is a monk," I explained. "Though he is more of a jailer than a nurse, and there are six cells off his guard room. He must be a brother, he can read, no lay brother is likely to have that skill."

There were four cells off the corridor we had retreated to, and three more corridors like this. That suggested twenty two cells as a possible total. We turned to Monifa, our sorceress, to help with the search - and realised she looked very distressed.

"So much suffering," she whispered, the tears running down her cheeks. "I can feel it from the walls, and the people caged here. Are they sorcerer's? Have they been... put away?"

There was no time to explain that these people were mostly just seen as an embarrassment to their families, not magicians. Helena hugged Monifa and we understood at that moment that despite her apparent strength Monifa was still a young person, with all the vulnerability of the young, but with a supernatural sensitivity to atmospheres. We needed to do this quickly and get her out of here.

"Can you find Elodie?" I asked, knowing this would mean that Monifa opens herself up to the souls in this place.

"I will try."

"Chin up, young lady," said Philip. "Soon be out of here."

Monifa looked puzzled at the very English statement then lifted her chin high, put her finger to her temple, and screwed her eyes shut. A minute passed. Philip took one of his pistols from his belt, checked it over, and cocked it, very quietly. Then he returned it to his belt and slowly drew his sword. The silver coated blade shone amber in the light of the lamps. If the next part of the adventure went wrong he would be ready.

Monifa took her finger from her head and started to move away, her hands stretched out in front of her, and we followed. To my alarm she was heading for the guard room. Then she stopped, luckily out of the line of sight of the monk, and indicated cell one of the six he was guarding. I guessed that patients who were more troublesome, or more important, were given cells close to the attendant's desk. Those patients who were of lesser importance, or who had become used to their confinement and gave no trouble overnight, could be housed further away. I marked the cell in my memory, and wondered what to do next.

We could challenge the monk, and hold him at sword point, whilst we released Elodie. But what if he had some way to raise the alarm? Or fought back? There was no doubt that Philip could easily slay the monk who was unlikely to have been brought up with skills in fencing. But that death would have to be accounted for at some stage with the authorities and the Abbot was unlikely to help us by hiding the death. On the contrary, he would probably be delighted to send Philip and I to the gallows.

Monifa could probably put the guard to sleep, she had brought Miit with her inside his mummy, but we already knew that the spell had unfortunate effects when the victim woke up. This monk had an aggressive streak in him already, I dreaded to think what he would do to his patients if he woke with the paranoia and fury that Costache and Bogdan had displayed on their return to the Durishaus ballroom.

No, the answer was to return in the daylight and try to take Elodie by diplomacy and cunning trusting that they could not reasonably refuse us entry. If they blocked our access then I was beginning to have an idea of a plan. I indicated we should retreat down the corridor again to talk.

"Mark in your minds the cell where she is held," I instructed. "Monifa, can you look into the cell unseen and see what conditions she is being held under?"

"No," said Monifa. "Not without going to sleep here, on the floor. But I will go and look through the window in the door."

My face must have showed alarm. Monifa just smiled, and did that gesture she had used before to change her clothes. She faded, that is the best way I can describe it, and in a few seconds we could hardly see her at all, even though we knew where she had been standing a moment earlier. The wraith of her form slipped away down the passageway and we held our breaths. One minute passed, then two, then we heard a cry from the monk. It was not of alarm, but fear, and was followed by the words of the genuflection as the monk called upon God to bless and protect him. Our friendly wraith returned, and indicated we should leave.

Outside Monifa became visible again and slid the bolts back into position, very slowly and carefully. She then leant up against the door and gave us a weary smile.

"Elodie is in that cell. There are manacles fastened to the wall, but she has not been chained to them. She sleeps the sleep of the lotus, or some similar drug, and is peaceful, at present. She wears a simple shift of strange design, it seems made to allow easy access to her breasts and quim. She has nothing on her feet."

"Thank you Monifa," I replied, convinced now that an evil future lay ahead of Elodie if she remained here. "Rest now for a moment, then we will return to the tavern. I have an idea I wish to share."

The return journey was uneventful. Philip sheathed his sword and carefully released the hammer on his pistol once we were a good distance from the Abbey. We arrived at the tavern door. I hesitated, not knowing what to do but Philip knocked once, then three sharp knocks, and the door was opened. Lyra was there, she must have been sitting in her sheet, just by the latch. She locked the door and we all retired to the room Helena and I shared.

"My plan," I explained. "Is that we go up together tomorrow, early. Philip and I will go to the main door to the hospital and demand to see Elodie. We go armed, but with intent to use force of argument rather than arms. Meanwhile, Helena and Monifa, you go to the side door and enter the Asylum unseen."

I looked at the ladies, "If you detect that we are unable to get to Elodie by our route then rescue her yourselves and let us know by some means. We will then retreat to the Tavern, take the coach, and make best speed for Carlsbruck."

There was general agreement on that plan and Monifa returned to her room. There was a quiet knock on our door. I thought it might be Monifa, come back because she had forgotten something, but it was Lyra. She looked at Philip, meaningfully, then walked off down the corridor.

"My friends," said Philip. "Dear Lyra informed me that there was a cost for guests who wanted to go walking in the dark. I have to go now and pay that cost."

Helena and I looked at each other. So this was what Lyra whispered in Philip's ear as we left the tavern a couple of hours earlier.

Philip walked to the door, opened it, and paused, "I have, I confess, been a lazy wastrel most of my life. With you and the Mystery Club, in this adventure, I have the chance to rise above that. So I go now, and do not fret for me, for what I do now I do of my own free will. And it is a far, far, better thing than I have ever done before... "

His little speech was interrupted by him closing the door. Helena and I looked at each other and, for the first time since we set out, we laughed. He had already pleasured with Lyra before we set off, it cannot be that much of a trial to pleasure her a second time. Then the door opened again.

"Sorry Damion," he smiled. "Did I not say? I promised Lyra would have you as well."

I followed Lord Philip down the corridor. "Did you not pleasure Lyra before we went up to the Monastery," I asked.

"Well yes," he replied. "That's true."

"And she still wants more?"

"It appears so," he looked at me with a wry smile.

I remembered the last time I was here, in the merchants room, and the fact that I went to bed exhausted while she was still vigorous. And I recalled the tired look of the young and old merchants the next day. The woman was insatiable.

Philip stopped at the door to his room. He opened it gingerly, then stepped in. I followed. Lyra was standing there, completely naked, and she reached out and took our hands, then pulled them close and rubbed them on her breasts. Her husband was watching from the corner of the room. He was already naked and soon we joined him in that state.

"Suckle," said Lyra, pointing at her enormous breasts. We obliged, bending to take a nipple each and pleasure it with lips and teeth. I put my hand on the folds of flesh around her waist and gently stroked, but Philip delved lower. Like a brave miner who seeks the best ore on the lower levels he pushed his hand over her bulging pudenda and into the fat folds of her quim. Lyra moaned in contentment as his fingers probed her plump labial lips and pushed inside her.

For a few minutes we continued while her husband calmly watched us, smiling, then Lyra shuddered and gasped. She grabbed us and pulled us close in an emotional hug, then pushed us away a little. She started to touch each of us, moving her hand from one to the other, tapping our chests, while muttering under her breath. She was reciting a choosing rhyme and her voice became stronger as she reached the end.

"... eeeny... meeny... miny... mo... whose... cock... shall... I... suck?" she sang, grinning.

Her hand ended on my chest as she said the word 'suck'. I was to be the happy recipient of her mouth. She knelt down before me and took my phallus into her hands, then warm lips were kissing, licking and finally swallowing it. Drawing it into her saliva filled mouth. My member responded as it should and soon I was hard as wood. Lyra was moving her head forwards and back, taking me in, and rolling her tongue over my flesh. It was glorious.

Philip had knelt behind her and was reaching around her torso to massage her breasts. Her fat thighs and large stomach had closed off easy access to her quim so he contented himself with caressing her upper body. Occasionally he kissed her neck and shoulders.

Lyra was giving no quarter in her pleasuring and I was rapidly approaching the point where my seed would spill, I would be unable to prevent it.

"Uh Lyra," I warned her. "If you carry on then I must spill my.... oooh... aaah... sorry, too late."

There are, I believe, women who do not like the experience of tasting semen. Finding the flavour overly salty, or the texture too slimy, but Lyra was clearly not one of those women. She drank it all down with great satisfaction. Then she turned to Philip and repeated the exercise with him. I became the caresser of breasts, the kisser of neck and upper back, while he stood in ecstasy. Lyra grabbed his noble hips and would not let him pull away either as she brought him to his climax. I watched the joy in his face as he pumped his seed down her throat.

Onto the bed we went and the next hour was spent in pleasuring this woman whom, if you saw her in the tavern bar, you would never have guessed at her capacity to take prolonged pleasuring. She wanted it, she demanded it, and Philip and I had to provide it. And, from time to time, her husband as well.

As I struggled to keep up with her appetites I had a moment of clarity.

This woman did not need an Elixir of Pleasure to be happy. All she needed was several men. But who then would actually want my elixir? Would it be people like her who didn't need it? Would women who were disinterested in pleasuring take my elixir? Or would they ignore it, leave it on the shelf? And would that principle also apply to lovers of food and fine music? Was I in danger of being as foolish as Victor?

Victor strove to make a new man by his science. And Helena had demonstrated to me, by her logic, that success might be disastrous for the world. Am I in danger of doing something similar? Creating a compound that only people who already love their passions will take, possibly pushing them over the edge, like Gerda when I tested it on her. I decided that I needed to think a lot more about what I was doing. And perhaps have a talk with Helena. She seemed a most sensible person, I was sure she would help me make a good decision.

Thinking of Helena made me long for her company. I took advantage of a change of position in our foursome to give Lyra a full kiss on the mouth, then made my excuses and left.

Back in our room I slipped into bed beside Helena.

"When this is all over," I said. "When Elodie is rescued, and my Father has been brought to justice, I want to talk about my elixir."

"Yes, Damion," she replied. "Are you having second thoughts?"

"Well yes, how did you know?"

"I know you are a good man," she explained. "And good men try to ensure they do not do bad things. I would be most honoured to hear your thoughts, my love. Now, let us sleep."

We settled down under the blankets in each others arms. What the morning would bring we did not know, but we would face it together.

27th June in the year 1784, early morning.

I was shaken awake by Helena. She smiled down at me and gestured towards the breakfast sitting on the coffer at the end of the bed.

"Lyra has brought us all breakfast in our rooms," she explained. "Philip must have told her we needed to be up at the Abbey bright and early."

"That is good of her," I struggled into my clothes and started to eat.

"When she dropped the meal off she said 'I hope you can rescue the poor soul.' which makes me think he has recruited her help or, at the very least, has entrusted her with our secret."

A gentle tap announced the arrival of Monifa. She was looking refreshed. Her magic was not without effort and she had been very tired when we put her to bed, but now the feisty girl was back. No sooner had she joined us when Philip put his head round the door.

"Ready to go?"

To be continued...