Previously in Frankengeld. Damion and Helena have created the Hand of Toxicity, a device to test the toxic or beneficial nature of new compounds. In the evening Helena visited Freida for her 'tuition' and Damion got some reading done. Una, the maidservant from Durishaus, turns up on the doorstep, having been brutally abused by Damion's father. She becomes the latest member of the household. A letter is delivered, from a mysterious Greek patient who needs Damion's medical skills.
Now read on...
11th June, in the year 1784, in the afternoon.
I sent Helena to the nearby stables to see if transport could be hired for this evening, and I asked Yani to go with her to learn how to do this essential task. At some point we might need to own a carriage for ourselves or, at the very least, get a couple of horses. But that could come later, for the time being we could hire what we needed, and if Yani could learn how to do this it would give him another skill.
They returned quickly to report that it was all organised for tonight. Anya and Una had also returned from the market at this stage, so we all sat around the kitchen table and had our lunch. I let Helena bring up the subject of Una's clothes.
"Una, did you have to leave your clothes behind when you ran away?" she asked. Una nodded, we had guessed that this was her situation since she had arrived dressed, barely, in what she stood up in.
"Then we are going to the market this afternoon," declared Helena. "Let's get you properly dressed."
Una looked surprised. She plucked at her torn dress. "I just need to repair this a bit more, master." I noted she talked to me instead of answering Helena, so I kept quiet and let Helena answer.
"If it was me, Una," said Helena, quietly. "I would want to be rid of that reminder of the attack."
"Yes, but I can't afford to just throw clothes away," Una reminded us.
"But we," Helena gestured at herself and me. "Can afford some new clothes for you. And perhaps we can have this dress mended so it can be given to a young girl that needs it."
Anya grunted, "I know a few of 'em."
"See," said Helena. "Once mended it can help someone."
"Very well," Una was now speaking to Helena without referring to me, which pleased me.
I left them planning the trip and retired to my study. Here I pulled my Greek primer off the shelf, and found my notebook where I had recorded my lessons nearly twelve years ago, and started to study. If the gentleman wrote in Greek then he might only speak that language, and I remembered the messenger who had spoken not a word. The name Mutunus was vaguely familiar to me, but I could not remember where I had read it before. Probably it came from the Histories, perhaps the name of a general, or nobleman, from the wars with the Persians.
When I emerged from the study a few hours later I found Una dressed in a very smart, and practical set of garments. They were good quality and had a little colour without being ostentatious. A belt and small leather pouch for personal items, good quality shoes, and a cloak against the wind and rain, finished off the ensemble. It looked as if Helena had bought at least two sets of clothes, and some undergarments and nightgowns as well. So Una was well provided, whatever her decision about her future. Helena told me that the torn dress had been left with a seamstress for repair.
We ate dinner early, then I stocked up my medical bag with all the equipment and medicines I could think of for an elderly person, and filled a canvas bag for Helena to carry with other items that occurred to me might be useful. As I did this I realised this must have been just what old doctor Karsten and his daughter did as they prepared to make that fateful journey. In my profession there must be a degree of trust, I thought, as I took the small crossbow from the wall, and a long knife in a scabbard for Helena.
We had arranged for Anya and Yani to stay in the house, and forgo one of their evening visits to relatives so that Una would not be on her own. She was still terrified that someone would come from my father to drag her back to Durishaus. Yani very proudly showed Una the peep hole through which visitors could be seen when they rang the bell, and she helped him hang a lantern on the hook outside so that light would fall on the faces of night-time visitors. I think the wooden panel with the peep hole covered a slit used for archery in earlier times, though the new use was a lot more friendly. I urged them both to be cautious.
"Use your judgement," I lectured, though they were probably more streetwise than I. "Do not let anyone in whom you distrust. We will be back in about three or four hours, or so."
Una looked very nervous, Anya looked determined, and Yani looked ready to throw himself between an intruder and Una. They were of an age and he had already become quite protective of her. We closed the door behind us and stepped down the street. A few minutes later we were in our rented two-wheeler, bowling along, the horse responding to the reins as only a well-trained creature would. This vehicle would cut the journey time considerably, making an evening visit perfectly practical. It was still light, though the sun was dipping towards the horizon, our return journey would be in the dark.
I handed the reins to Helena.
"What are you doing?" she said, alarmed. "I have never driven a cart, let alone a fast two-wheeler like this!"
"I need to check these directions." I said. "It won't be for long. Just hold the reins, not too tight, not too loose, the horse knows what it's doing."
"What do you mean, not too tight and not too loose!" Helena wailed in my ear. "What sort of help is that!"
I took the letter out and checked for the landmarks we had been given. Helena was making encouraging conversation with the horse, which the beast sensibly ignored. It kept the two-wheeler in the centre of the road and maintained a fast trot.
I consulted the instructions, by the light of the rising moon, while Helena talked to the horse, offering it extra feed, and other more dubious - and probably illegal - rewards if it behaved itself. My memory refreshed, I put the letter away and took back the reins, to Helena's relief.
The first landmark turned up a few minutes later, indicating a sharp turn to the left, and within five more minutes we crested a low hill and could see, through a gap in the trees, a ruinous-looking Schloss lying in the valley beyond. It had a gentle air of neglect about it. If we had not followed the trail as instructed we would never have seen it from the main road. Even the turn off was disguised. A perfect dwelling for someone who sought privacy.
"We have arrived, Helena," I announced.
"That was quick," she said with a laugh. "It must have been my excellent driving, Damion."
We approached the Schloss and, on closer examination, could see that it was not as ruinous as we first thought. The studied appearance of abandonment seemed to be a screen to hide the fact that it was occupied. A faint light showed in one of the lower windows, near an impressive front porch. Here gargoyles frolicked on the roof, and the pillars supporting the porch were wrapped with carvings of food and lush vegetation. I brought the carriage to rest by the door. There was a wooden post here for tying off the reins. I had seen many a different tie post over the years, but never one quite like this. By accident, or design, it resembled a phallus of classical appearance.
"My goodness," said Helena. "That's an impressive bit of wood."
We dismounted and she ran her hand down from the top of the pole, in a sensual stroke that made me gulp. I felt the need to show off my classical knowledge, if only to distract her from the way she was stroking the smooth wood.
"In ancient Greece," I said. "And the Roman empire, a phallus would be placed at the docks to point the way to the local brothel."
"Really," said Helena, sounding delighted by the idea. "Then it's pointing the wrong way. The nearest one is back that way." She gleefully waved in the direction of our home, "In Carlsbruck."
"It's probably just a coincidence it looks like a phallus." I said, trying to change the subject. "You know, the way some mushrooms resemble the male member without there being any meaningful reason."
"Either that," Helena looked up into the darkening sky. "Or it says that all the whores around here have gone to heaven."
I grabbed my medical bag and gave Helena the extra bag containing several large bottles of tonic. Then I went to the door and lifted the knocker. It was a beautiful piece of craftsmanship, all vine leaves and berries, wrought in iron, and when I tapped the door with it a clear sound - like a hammer on an anvil - echoed inside the building. A few moments later the door was opened.
"Herr Doctor?" said a voice from the darkness then, as the door opened more fully, I could see a man standing in the entrance hall. He was a full head taller than me, and was wearing the garb of a steward or butler, with a rich velvet cap upon his head. His hair was quite short and curly, and his face was round and friendly with a welcoming smile and a twinkle in his big brown eyes.
"I am Doctor Frankengeld,' I replied. "And this is my assistant Helena Ravenstein. We are expected, I believe."
"You are! You are!" he put his head around the door to view my companion. "You're both very welcome," he looked Helena up and down and grinned widely. "Very welcome indeed. Come in!"
