Previously on Frankengeld. The rescue team, Damion, Helena, Monifa and Lord Philip have done their nighttime reconnaissance of the Asylum. Elodie is being held there, drugged, and ready for an Abbot to indulge his licentious nature. Damion and Philip have paid their dues to Lyra. Now it is morning, and time to rescue Elodie.
Now read on...
27th June in the year 1784.
"Yes Lord Philip," said Helena. "We are ready to go."
He had changed his clothes this morning. Last night he was dressed in grey and black. This morning it was scarlet frock coat, military trousers, white shirt. He led the way downstairs and we left our travelling bags with Lyra, she would have them put into the coach while we were up the hill. I kept my medical bag, it will help with the task ahead, and by dint of moving things around I was able to hide my small crossbow inside. Philip blew Lyra a kiss and she nodded at us with a serious expression as we left the tavern. I hoped we could trust her, it would be dreadful if his pillow talk had compromised this rescue.
The climb seemed shorter in the light, and the fact that we have travelled that way before, which always somehow makes journeys seem shorter. Nobody interfered with our progress. We tried to look like pilgrims, though I suspected that Gelenberg Abbey was not on the pilgrim trail. As far as I knew there were no holy relics to view here.
As we passed down the side of the building, that we now knew to be the Asylum, our little party split up. Helena and Monifa to stand by the side door, and Philip and I to tackle the front door to the building. I took a deep breath and Philip loosened his sword in its scabbard, then we pushed the door open and strode in. Two brothers were working in the light and airy hospital. One in the middle of the ward, and one at the desk at the far end. And we could see the door to the Asylum to the side of that desk. We passed between the rows of beds, just a few of which were occupied, and approached the brother by the dark door.
"I am Damion Von Frankengeld," I said, "And I demand to see my sister, Elodie, who is currently in your Asylum."
"I know of nobody by that name here, my lord," replied the brother, but his expression of panic, and his eyes rapidly flicking from side to side, revealed his lie.
"Is there no rule in your order to tell the truth!" I shouted. "I know she is here. I am her brother, and her doctor, and I insist!"
"She is not to be disturbed," the brother changed his strategy. He opened his mouth to say more but found himself looking at the sharp end of Philip's court sword.
"So villain, she is here! You lied to us!" Philip was enjoying this. "I am English, and we are a barbaric people, much inclined to duelling with liars." He pulled back his coat to reveal his two pistols, then chuckled, "Perhaps we should go outside and settle this?"
I decided the brother was suitably distracted and pushed past him to the Asylum door. It was similar to the side door, solid oak and iron, but with the bolts on the hospital side. Clearly it was designed to prevent the inmates of the Asylum from entering the hospital in an emergency. The bolts were drawn back, so I grasped the ring and opened it. The second monk in the hospital was studiously caring for an elderly monk who appeared to be in his final days of life. He looked far too scared to intervene, but the brother by my side turned to prevent me.
"You can't go in there... I shall fetch the Abbot."
Philip grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him away from me. "You just do that!" he roared, stabbing the man in the chest with his finger. "We're going through to see his sister."
The brother ran down the ward and out the front door. We had a few minutes and did not waste them. A short passage took us to the open area surrounded by the six high status cells and, as we expected, there was a monk there. He was distracted. On his table was a large tray containing wooden bowls of what looked like gruel. Gruel has been described, by some of my contemporaries, as a cheap food that prevents death by starvation but does not have enough nutrition to allow full life. There were a dozen bowls and he was adding a powder to the greasy looking sludge and stirring it in. Probably a mild opioid, to keep the inmates sedated and calm. I pointed at Philip and then at the monk, and then touched my chest and pointed at the keys on their hook. Lord Philip got the message.
"What have we here?" Philip enthusiastically asked, shocking the monk who was so engrossed in his task he had not heard us approach. "And what is it that you do here, brother?"
I was unsure if it was an English tradition that aristocracy visiting a location should ask what work each person does but it was done with such slick confidence that the monk started to answer before he realised something was amiss. And by that time I had stolen the keys and was inside Elodie's cell. As I flung the door open I glanced down the corridor to see that the side door was already ajar and that dear Helena, and little Monifa, were stood by, ready to help.
Elodie lay on an iron framed bed that had been covered with the minimum of padding. Her shift was grubby from the dirt in the cell and nobody had bothered to wash her face or comb her hair. This, I suppose, was a strategy to make her look insane and, if I had been a casual visitor, it might have worked. But I could see the sister through the grime. She lay in a deep sleep. I checked her pulse and breathing. As Monifa had said, this was not a natural sleep, she was drugged.
There was no time to treat her. I lifted her from the bed and brought her out of the cell. Philip was acting the 'mad Englishman' now, arguing with the monk, pretending not to understand our language, and talking slowly and loudly in his own tongue. I moved into the corridor and handed Elodie to Helena. Monifa slipped shoes onto my sister's feet, though I doubted she would be walking soon, and gestured for me to close the cell door. I did so, and locked it. Monifa took a long look at Elodie, as if studying her appearance, then waved her hand at the cell and spoke a single word, "Ushabti".
I left Helena and Monifa to help Elodie from the building and went back to join Philip, putting the keys back on the hook. The conversation had run its course and the monk was stood, very still, with Philip's sword touching his substantial belly. Then the Abbot arrived. He swept into the guard room with some sort of under-Abbot by his side. He came to a halt, disconcerted, when he saw me.
"Who is offering violence in this holy place?" he demanded.
"That would be me," replied Philip. "Scunthorpe, Lord Scunthorpe, nephew to Earl Cardigan, second cousin to the Prince Regent of England."
I had no idea if what he said was true, but it certainly gave the Abbot pause for thought. I took advantage of his hesitation to make my feelings clear without, I hoped, revealing that Elodie was already on her way back to the tavern.
