Blachernae Palace, 1st of January 1885

Senators,

As we wait for the Empress to arrive for the address, the following newspapers are considered significant by the archivists.











































And as you can see, the world map in this room has been updated. I’m told the Senate’s is being updated now, too.



After many years of helping Empire grow in it’s strenght, Alexios Damaskinos, my dear father, passed away on 12 November 1884. By the law his seat in Senate and title of Governor of Africa is passed to me. I hope that my actions would make my father proud. Rest in Peace, my dear father. – Alexandros Damaskinos

Greetings fellow Senators, allow me to introduce myself; I am Senator Magnus Kvensson.

First, I would like to thank the most pristine and wise Empress for my new position among this prestigious and respected society. Now I assume many of you doubt my loyalty to the empire espcially with a name as outlandish as mine, but I assure you i have bled and lost close kin for the empire and her interest. I have served for 15 years in our eternal legions and even worked my way to Legate. But most of all I cannot stand these Slavic pagans that do these cruel and unusual rituals to the good citizens we vow and swore to protect!

(Ahem)

However, I don’t believe a military conquest is the way to solve the pagan issue, for we cannot even guarantee our own internal stability. And how do we achieve this stability you may wonder? Simple. Money.

We control practically all of Africa and the very populous Indian continent as well as large swaths of land in Australia. We should focus on harvesting these raw resource pools and investing in their development.

Every night i hear someone, anyone ranting about how these “socialist” and “communist” and how they’ll bring wealth to everyone. So I propose this as the counter to these upstart ideals and rebellions and calm the populous.

Thank you for listening and I look forward to meeting all of you prestigious senators.

– Senator Magnus Kvensson

After an intense discussion, I will be retiring after the next Senate session and living out the rest of my life at my estate at Nicaea. I will the Dukedom of Nicaea to my eldest son and my heir, Ambrosio Palaiologos, after the next session of the Senate. He is 33 years old, being born on January 29th, 1852. He was born in Londinium in Britannia. He will continue my fights for justice, order, and prosperity and is a firm believer in the power of Rome, the invincibility of her legions, and the maginimious naature of the Empress and administration. He will take over my position in the Kyriarchía. I would also like the Empress the assign Ambrosio to the rector provinciae of Britannia and also to promote him to praetor after my retirement, taking over my positions. Thank you for your benevolence to me throughout my years of service. I understand if my son is not fit to be rector provinciae and you decide to assign him somewhere else. Hail Empress Veronica! Hail Rome! Hail the Empire! IMPERIUM ROMANUM

SPQR

Senator Andronikos Palaiologos, governor of Britannia, propraetor of Rome, and duke of Nicaea.

Senators,

We would take this time to announce new appointments to Our staff. Senator Alexander Smithereens shall be named Chief of the Navy. Senator Theodosio, We must confess that the last address was incorrect, and Senator Αιδεν Στήβεν has long been the Chief of Staff. However, if you would be interested in the position of Chief of Armaments or Chief of the Army, the position is yours.

As for family, We have four new grandchildren. Two from Prince Artoúros, and two from Prince Léon. Prince Léon was married in 1883 to Helene Friederike, the daughter of a regional administrator in Burgundy. He had a daughter and a son, but died from his hemophilia shortly before his son was born.

Now for news of the Empire.

As 1880 began, We again funded philosophic investigations at the University of Constantinople.



We also adjusted the various taxes to more accurately approximate a flat tax across the Empire.



When Ethiopia declared war on Arabia to recover the breakaway lands, they asked for Our assistance. We agreed and sent them money, but did not send the Legions.



When We sent official word that We would favor unemployment subsidies, reactionaries who were already angered at the changed tax rates took to arms. As was typical with these minor revolts, they were put down with ease.





Arabia was also put down with ease, with the peace treaty between Ethiopia and Arabia signed in Blachernae Palace.

Meanwhile, while Germany’s latest war with Bavaria slowly turned against them, Bavaria did not do much better, as Silesian nationalists were able to force their independence from the war-weary nation.

Again, the philosophy department demonstrated that they had already been developing new ideas.



We turned to the Legions and had them develop methods of determining the risks involved in various actions so that they could choose well.



In January of 1881, Poland-Lithuania declared war on Russia in the hopes of humiliating them. It seems their goal was to direct Us at Russia. As they had not consulted Us regarding this foolish plan, We declined to aid them in their war.

Bavarian reactionaries had been displeased at Bavaria’s weakness and in turn rebelled, forcing a new government in March of 1881.

When the military had developed the basic ideas of risk assessment, We sought to alleviate the ongoing coal shortages by having engineers apply steam turbines to the various mines.





As these were deployed, We continued building industry everywhere where there were excess workers. There were never not excess workers.

The excavation in Egypt continued to bear fruit as a tomb was uncovered, and then the turbines were fully deployed.





We immediately set the engineers to developing better metallurgical techniques to make more use of the coal we had so that the coal could be applied to more uses.



In January of 1882, Bavaria and Germany signed a peace agreement to simply cease hostilities. Ultimately, this meant that Germany won. They had absorbed territory first in Thuringia and then in Brandenburg when pan-nationalists in Werle turned all of the region over. Bavaria in turn had lost territory, first to Silesian nationalists (Silesia shortly after being conquered by Hungary), and then to Hungary directly.

In February, Poland-Lithuania was forced to see the error of their war when they gave Estonia to Russia.

The development of several techniques of creating artificial dyes was a complete transformation of the textile industries. And the improved metallurgical techniques promised to free up enough coal and coal byproducts to keep these factories working.





After that was completed, We followed Senator Theodosio’s advice and began laying the legal foundation for a central bank.



In addition to the advances in coal, other engineers developed means of producing useful products from petroleum oil. The peoples of Baku immediately went to work extracting and selling it, and in the following years other sources were found, greatly enriching the workers of any lands lucky enough to have a supply.



In November of 1882, Bavaria’s government was overthrown again, this time by Jacobins.

In December, the long-feared communist revolt swept over the Empire. There were several larger groups in Gallia and Iberia, but they were swept away with ease. The numerous smaller groups in Africa were harder, if only because of the vast distances between them. It was clear a new legion would be needed for West Africa, so one was recruited.



Meanwhile, an island between Java and Sumatra exploded, causing great loss of life in Java.



When the legal framework for the central bank had been created, We asked the legions to finally apply statistics to all their work.





When they had completed that work, We insisted they develop an organized system of logistics, so that they could better be supplied in places such as Africa.

Just before the end of the year in 1883, the communist rebels were completely cleared out. Not much happened through the beginning of 1884. In July, Jacobins grew frustrated with the lack of further political reforms and revolted.

This revolt, as with the Communist one, demonstrated the sheer power of artillery. So when the legions had figured out the basics of a modern logistics system, We set to work having weapons manufacturers provide them with artillery that could be loaded from the breech instead of from the muzzle.



In October, Germany finally overcame Bavaria and completely annexed it. Finally central Europe was becoming organized.



And so we come to 1885. Despite the growth of jobs in the city, a third again as many as there were in 1880, the number of unemployed in the cities of the Empire as tripled, now nearly one hundred thousand souls. Sixty three thousand of those are in Constantinople. While they find day jobs often enough to eat, theirs is a hard and meager existence, and We hope to provide for them in the future. Jobs, primarily, but also subsidies for when there are no jobs.

But sadly, this is the political leanings of the various administrators and town councils. As you can see, no reforms would succeed at this time.



As well, the artillery will soon be supplied. Do the Senators have recommendations for what to research next?



My Empress, my failure to prevent violence by the Communists of the Empire will forever weigh heavy on me. I only hope that you can understand that the rage that boiled over was due to the material conditions most citizens of the Empire live in. Seeing both soldiers and citizens fall has hurt me greatly. I am hosting an International Congress of Socialists and Communists in the hope that agreements can be reached, and further violence avoided. Not having any standardized line of thought for how The Roman Empire is to achieve Communism was paramount in causing this rebellion. The more violent trends of communism from other nations has spread far, and must be either removed or repurposed. To this end, I call all members of the Socialist and Communist parties together to discuss and decide on a plan of action and legislation for The Roman Empire. I also encourage all from overseas who can attend to do so, to allow a full diverse discussion. This will be known as The First Internationale. We shall meet in Constantinople in a place, yet to be determined, in one year’s time. -Nicodemo Theodosio

Alexios was getting old now. He could no longer run like he used to, and his joints ached. His once brilliant hair was now white and gray. He could still shoot a gun really well, but the recoils always dealt extensive pain to his wrist. He could hardly write in his journals now. Yet he still went to the Senate meetings every time, discussing the state of the Empire with his fellow senators, whom he had come to regard as close friends after working with them for decades.

They were discussing something about Germany when suddenly the doors swung open, and in stormed a battalion of Imperial riflemen. At their head was his son, Konstantinos Doukas, named after the Emperor who had driven back the Seljuk Turks from Anatolia over eight hundred years ago. The soldiers stood still at the entrance to the Senate room, while Konstantinos stepped forward. It was then that Alexios realized that Konstantinos was wearing a toga with Imperial purple outlines. Nobody was supposed to wear Imperial purple outlines on their togas…except the Empress. Was Konstantinos…?

“Listen up!” shouted Konstantinos. “You old fools have toiled too long in here in the name of the pretender Veronica Nikephora!”

“PRETENDER?!” shouted a senator, “Who DARES declare the Sacred Empress a pretender?!”

Konstantinos simply motioned to his men and pointed at the senator. Two seconds later, the senator was on the ground, four bullet holes in his head and chest.

The senators shouted and ran for it, but all entrances had been blocked by Konstantinos’s men. The Empress was quickly surrounded with Varangians, but they were all outnumbered.

“It’s no use running from me, your true emperor,” Konstantinos said, “That wench over there in the corner has driven the Empire into the ground, and I intend to fix it. I hereby declare myself Basileus Basileon, King of Kings, Autokrator of the Empire! Under that wench, we have gone in the wrong direction! Look at us! What have we become? The Empire’s a shell of its former self! The people are protesting for more rights and freedoms! We have lost the way of the Romans! I will save our Empire. I will make it great again!”

As some senators began protesting, Konstantinos raised his hand. “I beg you, please hear my words before coming to conclusions. Join me, and I shall reward you greatly. Don’t…well, you get the idea.”

Konstantinos turned to his father, still sitting at his seat despite the gunfire.

“Father, don’t make me do this,” he said, “Please. No longer will we be the marginalized minor branch of the Doukas family that the Cult mocked in that letter many years ago. We’ll have what we always wanted–power. You, as the father of the Sacred Emperor, will be the second most powerful man in the world, not just a lowly senator or minister or soldier. I’m doing what is best for all of us.”

Alexios wasn’t tempted. “Do you really think I want more power? Your grandfather and I have served the Empire for longer than you have lived, boy. I will not abandon it now, while I live. I knew something was wrong about you ever since you came back from that rebel siege. Please, son, drop the delusions of grandeur, and I might intervene during your trial. Killing me will only deny your inheritance and give it to Michael.”

Konstantinos was also unfazed by his father’s declaration. He pulled out a gun and shot his father in the left knee. Pain exploded in Alexios’s left leg, and he went down with a shout. Konstantinos then pointed at the Empress.

“Anybody else want to join me? Please do.” ((Outside)) Michael watched in shock as Konstantinos and his men stormed the Palace, the mobs not far behind. He was not found yet.

He turned around just as explosions rippled through Constantinople, causing massive devastation to infrastructure and civilians, and the Hagia Sophia was stormed by an angry mob. He knew the same thing was happening across the Empire as the legions were caught off-guard and the supporters of his brother were taking up arms…

Leonardo Favero kept calm when the pretender burst in and threatened the Empress. Ever since his father’s murder, he had been prepared for anything. Admittedly he had expected the Cult to make a move, but he supposed the Empire was filled with all kinds of whack-jobs. As the pretender, who was apparently the son of Alexios Doukas, made all kinds of wild claims, Leonardo casually inched his way towards the Empress and her Varangian guards. He slipped a small knife he always kept on him out of his sleeve and into his hand, making sure it remained out of sight. If anyone made a move on the Empress, he would intervene. He’d grown quite adept at throwing knives with deadly accuracy. He could make a shot at the ringleader, but his men might start shooting the other senators if he did. It was best to bide his time and wait for the optimum moment to strike.

Konstantinos notices Leonardo moving towards the Empress and hiding something in his hand. Without thinking or even looking more than a second, he shoots Leonardo twice in both wrists and then his knees for good measure. “Fool! Do you really think you can defy your Emperor?! I know who you are! I knew your father, that senile old man! I won’t have any of your family pulling heroics this time! And don’t think about calling in your guards! They’re quite busy dealing with the hordes of citizens fighting for their rightful ruler! Now hurry up and swear your fealty to me or I will begin the purging! I will spare your precious wench if you do so!”

“Shall we solve this as ‘gentlemen’ would Konstantinos?”, asked Nicodemo Theodosio He stepped forward, nothing in his hands, only his sword on hisbelt. “You talk a lot about ‘purity’ and ‘nobility,’ yet you have just shot your own father in the knee for disagreeing with you. Are you not a Christian, Konstantinos? ‘Honour thy Father and thy Mother.’ Is this not one of the holiest of Commandments?” He slowly drew his sword, and held it in proper dueling stance. “You would put everything on the line in a mad grasp for power, to enforce your unpopular ideas onto the people of the Empire. You have violated the sanctity of these chambers and of this great city. You have shot your own father, my colleague. Most of all, however, you have threatened the Empress, and by that, all of us. I ask you to show the smallest shred of honour and duel me now, and let God and Fate decide the outcome of this mad coup.”

Senator Columba and his guard are riding for Blachernae along the Theodosian walls his ears ringing from the blast that had blown his horse out from under him

“Right who’s not dead?”

A young officer, an ADC to one of the more senior ones by his uniform.”Most of us your eminence are alive and well though 3 others are badly injured and it looks like Taggart bought it”

“Damn I liked him”

“How much further sir?”

“About another bloody mile and are horses are already exhausted dammit!”

“Sorry senat-”

“Don’t apologise I’m on edge that’s all, we all are. Any send riders back into the city tell whoever’s there we have reached the Gate of Adrianople we should be past it by the time they get the message but I think should is about to become a very loose concept today. I also left a reserve force outside a few miles away I didn’t want to cause a scare by brining them all in at once but now with hindsight of course…Anyway tell them to head for Blachernae we need to protect the Empress.”

“And the senate”

“We can’t be in two places at once dammit”

“What I mean sire, is that all the senators are at Blachernae as well”

“WHAT?”

“For the imperial address to the senate”

“Honestly what is the point of being a senator if nobody tells you where the meetings are happening? Right then tell the men at Constantine’s Forum to pull back to where the Constantinian walls used to be. set up a defensive line there and try to move north if the can. At least establish a large perimeter around the palace.”

“It shall be done Governor.”

“Gonnae just decide what you’re calling me please and get to it.”

“At once my lord.”

“Och jings when it comes to staff the have all enthusiasm but it would be nice if they had some sense as well.”

“Brother!” The voice was all too familiar to him, his younger brother was galloping up on them from behind.

“Gius I thought I told you to get out of the city!”

“No you told me to get my family out of the city.”

“You do realise that if the revolters don’t get you your wife will?”

“No I didn’t”

“Please tell me you at least have something to fight with.”

“Yes I do actually.”

“Finally some good news. Now get back on your horse and find me one.”

“Where is your horse?”

“That depends on what part of it you’re referring to. *sigh* I liked that horse. Anyway now’s not the time to mourn we need to get to Blachernae now.”

A soldier presents the senator with another horse and he jumps on ignoring the pain in his bloody hands.

“Columba I feel I should tell you something. It’s occurred to me that Kilts are not exactly great for riding in.”

“I know that Gius but it’s easier than a toga. Now COME ON WE HAVE AN EMPIRE TO SAVE”

They rode north for the palace slowing down as they neared. They dismounted and left their horses behind. The front of the palace was filled with an angry crowd demanding blood.

“What do we do know?”

“Keep it down.”

“Sorry”

“Right men up on the wall we’ll head round the back and make sure to keep low Gius you can watch the horses.”

“WHAT!?”

“You’re not getting killed I won’t allow it no keep your head down if you get into trouble improvise.”

Columba and the rest of his men kept low as they moved over to the nearest tower. The door was old and rotten it nearly fell of its rusting hinges when pushed. The went in and clambered up rather than climbed the stairs were crumbling as they moved up. They reached the top and broke out onto the wall. From here he could see the entire city. Fires were burning along the northern part of the city but in the south it seemed quiet where the Forum of Constantine was but otherwise it was impossible to tell what was going on. They moved on trying not to be seen knowing the responsibility they potentially held.

Konstantinos is not amused at the communist’s attempts at speaking. He orders his men to shoot him in the wrists and knees just as he did to Leonardo while he reloads. “Fool! Do you really think I would listen to you?! You communist! You savages are the reason we are a failing Empire! God abandoned me to the mob of peasants years ago, so why should I listen to Him now (though I still am a Christian when in a good mood and wish to purge all heretics and heathens living in the Empire once I ascend the throne)? Especially now! And my father…he and his own father are traitors, selling out the Empire to advance their own interests! They must be punished! I assure you, my ideas are quite popular. Otherwise how could I have the mobs looting and pillaging at my command outside?”

Leonardo Favero crumpled to the ground. The shots at his wrists had gone wide, as was apt to happen with pistols at such a range, but one of the shots at his knees had gone through the meat of his leg. The wound wasn’t fatal and most likely wouldn’t cripple him, but he wouldn’t be walking from some time. He did his best to cover the wound with fabric from his clothes and cursed silently to himself.

((Konstantinos))

Konstantinos fails to reload his gun and throws it away. “Stupid piece of metal!” He thinks to himself, “You idiot, why did you go for the wrists of all places?!”

He looks over to where his father lay but instead sees nothing. A trail of blood leads to an open window nearby.

“GUARDS!” he shouts, “Find my father and brother and bring their bodies to me!” ((Alexios))

Alexios limped as far as he could from the carnage, blood trailing behind him. He had to stop the bleeding or else Konstantinos’s men would find him quickly.

He found a fountain which had been partially wrecked by the explosion of a bomb nearby and plunged into it, trying to wash away as much of the blood as possible. That done, he wrapped his chest with thick cloth torn from his robe to stop the bleeding. It wasn’t much, but at least he was less likely to get an infection. He imagined what his father had gone through during the 1854 Cult attack before he and the Lancers intervened. Who would intervene for him now in his own situation? ((Michael))

Michael hid behind a corner as one of Konstantinos’s men approached to investigate a thrown rock. As the large Spartan man rounded the corner, Michael sank a dagger into his chest and covered his mouth before breaking his neck quickly and silently. Michael put on the guard’s clothes and took his weapons, a rifle, pistol, and sword.

Now he had to find Konstantinos and stop him.

((Nicodemo))

After my small speech, Konstantinos signals his men, and I was shot twice, once in the right arm, once in the right leg. I collapse to the ground, sword clattering as it hits the elaborate marble of the floor. I inch myself back against the desks for the Socialists and Communists, supporting myself with my unhurt arm, and force myself onto my feet. “All you have convinced me of, Konstantinos, is something I thought of once, long ago. Political power comes out of the barrel of a gun. History is nothing but stories of violence used to obtain power. I rejected this, in hope we of the Empire could do better. That we could learn from our mistakes. Have we not learned of the fallacy of things like The Year of Four Emperors? These squabbles for power do nothing but harm the Empire. You dismiss me, because I am a Communist. You accuse me of being a savage, I would remind you of the true definition of that word: ‘fierce, violent, and uncontrolled.’ Who among us here most matches that description? I would not say myself. You could kill me now, this is true, it will gain you nothing however, but one less bullet. The cause I have fought for, and indeed that millions of others’ do, will not be interrupted by my death. I know you will try to kill me. Shoot, coward, you will only kill a man!”

Columba let go of the rope as he landed in the shadow of the walls behind Blachernae he was covered in his own bloodwhich had seeped through the makeshift bandages he was wearing. There were bigger things to worry about now however he could hear gunfire from the other side of the palace and it was getting louder.

“Are you alright Senator?” Columba looked round to see one of his guards looking at him worriedly.

“Yes I’m fine.” though he did not feel it but he couldn’t worry about that now he had to change the subject

“When we were climbing down I thought I saw to men slip out of the throne room”

“I saw them to your eminence I think they were senators”

“We need to find them friend or foe they could tell us what’s been happening in here. Right lets go. Keep your revolvers and rifles aside for now silent weapons only. If you need to shoot then shoot but only if you have to get it”

“Got it”

“Got it”

“Get it”

“Good. Right lets go” 60 men in kilts with guns, Claymores, shields and other weapons snuck into the palace wile up on the wall 10 watched the city both within and without them praying for reinforcements. In the forum of Constantine Donal MacDonald rode forward to confront the seething crowd they were surrounded he knew men were stationed at every entrance and on the collonade reinforced now by some form the city guard who had come along with Varangains who were not to drunk to stand rifles and Gatling guns pointed at the crowd who he knew would be killed in their hundreds if they tried to stand. A silence fell over the crowed as they realised their situation. “Listen to me all of you. I don’t know why you are gathered here and in such a fashion but as I’m sure you can see you are surrounded, outgunned and I’m sure you’ll all agree with me that it would not be in the best interests of any involved for hundreds of us to get killed for no reason.” Officers around the forum repeated his words for those who could not hear.

A man on a horse who appeared to be the leader of the crowed rode forwards his mouth twisted in a sneer that managed to show hate and contempt at the same time.

“We are here for a reason. To save the Empire!” the crowed behind roared in agreement.

“By getting yourselves killed?”

“By giving the Empire to those who know how to run it. By giving it to those who care about it we are the people of the Empire and we have made our voice heard!”

“Your choice? Since when did you choose who managed the Empire? Who gave you the right to do what God alone can do? To ordain who is to guard over our lands and ourselves.”

The crowd was conspicuously silent but here were no jeers or whistles. They were listening at least. When another man emerged from the crowds

“Yes and what has God’s choice done to defend us. Even as the English struggle through the swamps of the Amazon; even as the Africans scratch a meager living from the grit they call soil; even as the Germanic Barbarians brood in their forests; even as the Caledonians ponder life on their mountain tops; as the slaves freeze and then burn on the steppes of Ukraine and Siberia, as the Oriental wallow in their rice paddies, as the Arabs ride their camels through the desert and the Indians their elephants through the monsoons they are all plotting our destruction!”

The cheer from the crowd was loud but not as loud as it had been before.

“And this is how you would defend your Empire. By overthrowing the senate which has defended our rights since ancient times? By deposing the Empress who has for nearly 50 years now brought us peace and prosperity? Your method of defense would split our Empire in two and as we killed each other the world would watch, wait and when it was done they would turn on us like vultures and pick us clean! You would save the Empire by destroying it from within. After which it would be destroyed from without. If you want to defend the Empire then follow the Empress as we have all done. For many of us all our lives! Some of you may remember the dark days of old when the palace went silent and our Empire was leaderless. We were without guidance; without unity; without hope; and what happened? Our Empire drifted to the edge of collapse not though the conspiracies of foreign spies or kings. But because we ourselves were without a leader and without strength not in our bodies but in our souls! Do you want to return the Empire to those days? Because of you are you are certainly going the right way about it! Only this time it would be even worse as we would be not standing in the streets watching the palace for any sign of life or light within. But we would be burning that palace and killing each other as our enemies from outside descended upon our walls! Yu want to defend our Empire? Our nation? Our home? then stand with me; against the true traitors within this realm; Stand with the Senate who defend your rights to day as the Senate of old did so in the old city; stand with the Church which has brought us grace and salvation now for near 2 millennia; and most of all stand with the Empress; who is sworn to serve you; guide you and die if need be to protect you!”

A cheer rose from the crowd quiet and scattered at first but grew in size and confidence like wildfire until the square was full of it.

The traitor on his horse was visibly furious as were those who had gathered round him clearly the most loyal of the mad fire brands who had started this. They were armed to the teeth as well.

“You are a fool.” he spat at Donal. “You’re all fools!” he shouted to the crowds “It is too late we have already won. We would not be here if it were not so.”

“You may have won I do not know but I have a duty. A duty to the Empire; a duty to the Empress and a duty to my commander and friend and so I shall stand against you. No matter what.”

“Even if it means your death it seems”

The traitor had a gun in his hand before Donal could blink all he could do was calmly draw his basket hilted claymore, a gift from his Irish mother and hold his foe’s gaze.

“To paraphrase a song my mother once sang to me: Tonight I man the bhearna bhaoil in the Empire’s cause come woe or weal, through cannons roar and rifles peal seo libh canaig amhrán na bhfiann!”

Without thinking Donal put his heels to his horse and charged the traitors who did the same. It was one man against at least twenty but he did not care he had a duty to fulfill and by God he would do it. Before he had gone a yard though a series of deafening cracks thundered around the forum and his would be opponents fell to the ground dead or soon to be dead. Donal looked arounf and behind him smoke surrounded several of the soldiers behind him and closest to him on the colonnade who were slipning another cartridge into their rifles and closing over the breaches even as he recovered form the shock.

“He looked over the crowd now standing silently watching him or the bodies on the ground between himself and the crowd.

“That’s enough blood for all of us for today. Now go home and let us forget this happened.”

Slowly the crowed shuffled and then in first ones and twos then larger groups began to cautiously apporach the solders blocking the exists.

“Let them through!” Donal shouted

Soon a trickle became a flood and the crowd was rapidly disappearing.

“Good show there sir. I speak for everyone when I say I enjoyed the speech.”

It was the voice of Constantine MacAlpine; his ADC and long time friend.

“I did what I had to do and it wasn’t that great somebody had to do something or it would have been an absolute blood bath.”

“So what now?”

Donal thought for a moment. The south of the city seemed secure but what about the north Columba would probably have not yet reached the palace but what about the patriarch and Hagia Sophia?

“Everyone on the West and North sides of the forum will follow me to the Blachernae. You take everyone else and head for Hagia Sophia.”

“At once” Constantine galloped off to make it so.

Donal surveyed the scene around him his eyes drawn to the corpses in front of him. Looked like the senator had been right. Sometimes you can’t avoid blood being spilled. Though, Donal thought, the senator would probably be relieved that it was not as bad as it could have been. He tuned his back on the grizzly scene and rode north for the palace. Both hoping and dreading about what he would find there.

((Konstantinos)) Theodosio, I know that you, and not me, are the savage for two reasons. First, as a communist you wish to overthrow the aristocracy and our ancestral privileges. Second, as a Spaniard you are not a true Roman and as such are not entitled to citizenship. Remember the last time we tried extending Romanitas to non-Romans? Constitutio Antoniniana, issued by Emperor Caracalla in the year of our Lord 212 during the later days of the Old Empire, extended citizenship to all free men and women of the Old Empire. Before that, one of the main ways of becoming an Imperial citizen was to enlist in the Imperial legions. With this edict in place, the army became less attractive to young men, and recruitment dropped, allowing barbarians to rampage across the Rhine and Danube and end the Old Empire for good. The same is happening today. Citizenship is extended to most in the New Empire by birth ((what’s our citizenship policy?)), and our legions are being overwhelmed by the constant rebellions we are facing. It is time we ended birthright citizenship and made service in the army the primary route to citizenship–at least for pure Roman men, the only people who count.

Savage…what an interesting word. I am not a savage, as I am a Roman and therefore by definition am a civilized man. The same cannot be said about you, Spaniard. May I remind you of the original definition of the word ‘barbarian’ in response? Barbarian: “that which does not speak Greek.” “One not a Greek.” “One living outside the pale of the Empire and its civilization, applied especially to the northern nations that overthrew the Old Empire (and may I remind you that one of the barbarian groups, the Visigoths, which sacked Rome eventually settled in Spain?).” “One outside the pale of Christian civilization.” Note that I am quoting from the most recent edition of the dictionary issued by the Imperial University of Constantinople.

No, I will not kill you, not now. It is true that your death would not mean much to me. However, I can give you a fate worse than death for calling me a ‘coward’ as an example to the rest of what happens should you not join me… Konstantinos shoots Theodosio in the neck with his second revolver, severing his spinal cord but leaving him alive. ((Alexios))

Alexios stumbled through the hallways of Blachernae, past the bodies of mutilated and violated servants and the desecrated paintings on the walls. He needed a weapon, something to defend himself with…

There was a shout from behind him, and he turned to see one of Konstantinos’s men pointing a pistol at his head.

Alexios dived behind a table as the gun went off, the shot going wide and tearing through the wall behind Alexios. The senator remembered his time in the Lancers. He put all of his weight behind the table and charged, ramming the table straight into the traitor’s chest. One punch and kick and the man was down. Alexios took the revolver and dagger on the soldier and limped away.

Now to find a telephone or telegram to call for help… He found the Imperial Communications office strangely untouched but abandoned. He made his way to the nearest working telegraph (as he did not know how to use the telephone) and typed out a message to any Imperial military bases he knew.

“CONSTANTINOPLE STORMED BY A REACTIONARY PRETENDER STOP BLACHERNAE COMPRIMISED STOP SENATE AND PATRIARCH AND EMPRESS AND ROYAL FAMILY HELD HOSTAGE BY PRETENDER STOP ALL GARRISONS OVERWHELMED STOP SEND BACKUP AS SOON AS POSSIBLE STOP.”

He waited for five long minutes. Then a response came:

“ALL LEGIONS BUSY PUTTING DOWN REGIONAL REBELLIONS STOP MASS REBELLIONS BREAKING OUT IN MAJOR CITIES STOP COMMUNISTS AND SOCIALISTS AND NON-GREEKS BEING PURGED BY MOBS STOP IMPERIAL AIRSHIP LA FRANCE IS EN ROUTE TO CONSTANTINOPLE FROM ROME STOP ETA SIX HOURS STOP.”

Now he had to hold out until the airship arrived. ((Michael))

Michael continued to sneak around the palace. He found two guards standing sentry in front of a doorway and decided to investigate.

He walked up to them and said, “Excuse me, what are you doing? Konstantinos will not appreciate you idleness.”

“Comrade, inside are the hostages,” replied a guard.

“What hostages?”

“You don’t know? The Patriarch and the Empress’s husband and children and relatives are all in there. We intend to execute them all once this is all over.”

“Oh, right, all of this killing was getting to my head.” Michael laughed, somewhat nervously. “Well, good luck holding them!”

He left the guards and walked away, thinking about how he would break out the hostages. ((From the journal of General Ioannes of the Athenian Lancers))

I must have been asleep, for certainly if I had been fully awake I must have noticed the approach of such a remarkable place. In the gloom the courtyard looked of considerable size, and as several dark ways led from it under great round arches, it perhaps seemed bigger than it really is. I have not yet been able to see it by daylight. And I was completely alone; my men were nowhere to be seen. The driver assured me that the Lancers were off investigating a peculiar occurrence in a nearby village.

When the caleche stopped, the driver jumped down and held out his hand to assist me to alight. Again I could not but notice his prodigious strength. His hand actually seemed like a steel vice that could have crushed mine if he had chosen. Then he took my traps, and placed them on the ground beside me as I stood close to a great door, old and studded with large iron nails, and set in a projecting doorway of massive stone. I could see even in the dim light that the stone was massively carved, but that the carving had been much worn by time and weather. As I stood, the driver jumped again into his seat and shook the reins. The horses started forward, and trap and all disappeared down one of the dark openings.

I stood in silence where I was, for I did not know what to do. Of bell or knocker there was no sign. Through these frowning walls and dark window openings it was not likely that my voice could penetrate. The time I waited seemed endless, and I felt doubts and fears crowding upon me. What sort of place had I come to, and among what kind of people? What sort of grim adventure was it on which I had embarked? Was this a customary incident in the life of an Imperial soldier? Mara would not like that. Soldier, for just before leaving Constantinople I got word that my promotion was successful, and I am now a full-blown member of the General Staff (of course, I would be promoted after I returned from this mission)! I began to rub my eyes and pinch myself to see if I were awake. It all seemed like a horrible nightmare to me, and I expected that I should suddenly awake, and find myself at home, with the dawn struggling in through the windows, as I had now and again felt in the morning after a day of overwork. But my flesh answered the pinching test, and my eyes were not to be deceived. I was indeed awake and among the Carpathians. All I could do now was to be patient, and to wait the coming of morning.

Just as I had come to this conclusion I heard a heavy step approaching behind the great door, and saw through the chinks the gleam of a coming light. Then there was the sound of rattling chains and the clanking of massive bolts drawn back. A key was turned with the loud grating noise of long disuse, and the great door swung back.

Within, stood a tall old man, clean shaven save for a long white moustache, and clad in black from head to foot, without a single speck of colour about him anywhere. He held in his hand an antique silver lamp, in which the flame burned without a chimney or globe of any kind, throwing long quivering shadows as it flickered in the draught of the open door. The old man motioned me in with his right hand with a courtly gesture, saying in excellent Greek, but with a strange intonation.

“Welcome to my house! Enter freely and of your own free will!” He made no motion of stepping to meet me, but stood like a statue, as though his gesture of welcome had fixed him into stone. The instant, however, that I had stepped over the threshold, he moved impulsively forward, and holding out his hand grasped mine with a strength which made me wince, an effect which was not lessened by the fact that it seemed cold as ice, more like the hand of a dead than a living man. Again he said.

“Welcome to my house! Enter freely. Go safely, and leave something of the happiness you bring!” The strength of the handshake was so much akin to that which I had noticed in the driver, whose face I had not seen, that for a moment I doubted if it were not the same person to whom I was speaking. So to make sure, I said interrogatively, “Count Dracula?”

He bowed in a courtly was as he replied, “I am Dracula, and I bid you welcome, Mr. Dalassenos, to my house. Come in, the night air is chill, and you must need to eat and rest.”As he was speaking, he put the lamp on a bracket on the wall, and stepping out, took my luggage. He had carried it in before I could forestall him. I protested, but he insisted.

“Nay, sir, you are my guest. It is late, and my people are not available. Let me see to your comfort myself.”He insisted on carrying my traps along the passage, and then up a great winding stair, and along another great passage, on whose stone floor our steps rang heavily. At the end of this he threw open a heavy door, and I rejoiced to see within a well-lit room in which a table was spread for supper, and on whose mighty hearth a great fire of logs, freshly replenished, flamed and flared.

The Count halted, putting down my bags, closed the door, and crossing the room, opened another door, which led into a small octagonal room lit by a single lamp, and seemingly without a window of any sort. Passing through this, he opened another door, and motioned me to enter. It was a welcome sight. For here was a great bedroom well lighted and warmed with another log fire, also added to but lately, for the top logs were fresh, which sent a hollow roar up the wide chimney. The Count himself left my luggage inside and withdrew, saying, before he closed the door.

“You will need, after your journey, to refresh yourself by making your toilet. I trust you will find all you wish. When you are ready, come into the other room, where you will find your supper prepared.”

The light and warmth and the Count’s courteous welcome seemed to have dissipated all my doubts and fears. Having then reached my normal state, I discovered that I was half famished with hunger. So making a hasty toilet, I went into the other room.

I found supper already laid out. My host, who stood on one side of the great fireplace, leaning against the stonework, made a graceful wave of his hand to the table, and said,

“I pray you, be seated and sup how you please. You will I trust, excuse me that I do not join you, but I have dined already, and I do not sup.”

I handed to him the sealed letter which the General Staff. He opened it and read it gravely. Then, with a charming smile, he handed it to me to read. One passage of it, at least, gave me a thrill of pleasure.

“I must regret that an attack of gout, from which malady I am a constant sufferer, forbids absolutely any travelling on my part for some time to come. But I am happy to say I can send a sufficient substitute, one in whom I have every possible confidence. He is an experienced man, full of energy and talent in his own way, and of a very faithful disposition. He is discreet and silent, and has grown into manhood in my service. He shall be ready to attend on you when you will during his stay, and shall take your instructions in all matters. He shall be able to sort out the business involving the Cult of Chernobog.”

The count himself came forward and took off the cover of a dish, and I fell to at once on an excellent roast chicken. This, with some cheese and a salad and a bottle of old tokay, of which I had two glasses, was my supper. During the time I was eating it the Count asked me many question as to my journey, and I told him by degrees all I had experienced.

By this time I had finished my supper, and by my host’s desire had drawn up a chair by the fire and begun to smoke a cigar which he offered me, at the same time excusing himself that he did not smoke. I had now an opportunity of observing him, and found him of a very marked physiognomy.

His face was a strong, a very strong, aquiline, with high bridge of the thin nose and peculiarly arched nostrils, with lofty domed forehead, and hair growing scantily round the temples but profusely elsewhere. His eyebrows were very massive, almost meeting over the nose, and with bushy hair that seemed to curl in its own profusion. The mouth, so far as I could see it under the heavy moustache, was fixed and rather cruel-looking, with peculiarly sharp white teeth. These protruded over the lips, whose remarkable ruddiness showed astonishing vitality in a man of his years. For the rest, his ears were pale, and at the tops extremely pointed. The chin was broad and strong, and the cheeks firm though thin. The general effect was one of extraordinary pallor.

Hitherto I had noticed the backs of his hands as they lay on his knees in the firelight, and they had seemed rather white and fine. But seeing them now close to me, I could not but notice that they were rather coarse, broad, with squat fingers. Strange to say, there were hairs in the centre of the palm. The nails were long and fine, and cut to a sharp point. As the Count leaned over me and his hands touched me, I could not repress a shudder. It may have been that his breath was rank, but a horrible feeling of nausea came over me, which, do what I would, I could not conceal.

The Count, evidently noticing it, drew back. And with a grim sort of smile, which showed more than he had yet done his protruberant teeth, sat himself down again on his own side of the fireplace. We were both silent for a while, and as I looked towards the window I saw the first dim streak of the coming dawn. There seemed a strange stillness over everything. But as I listened, I heard as if from down below in the valley the howling of many wolves. The Count’s eyes gleamed, and he said.

“Listen to them, the children of the night. What music they make!” Seeing, I suppose, some expression in my face strange to him, he added,”Ah, sir, you dwellers in the city cannot enter into the feelings of the hunter.” Then he rose and said.

“But you must be tired. Your bedroom is all ready, and tomorrow you shall sleep as late as you will. I have to be away till the afternoon, so sleep well and dream well!” With a courteous bow, he opened for me himself the door to the octagonal room, and I entered my bedroom.

I am all in a sea of wonders. I doubt. I fear. I think strange things, which I dare not confess to my own soul. God keep me, if only for the sake of those dear to me! The next day…

It is again early morning, but I have rested and enjoyed the last twenty-four hours. I slept till late in the day, and awoke of my own accord. When I had dressed myself I went into the room where we had supped, and found a cold breakfast laid out, with coffee kept hot by the pot being placed on the hearth. There was a card on the table, on which was written– I have to be absent for a while. Do not wait for me.

D. I set to and enjoyed a hearty meal. When I had done, I looked for a bell, so that I might let the servants know I had finished, but I could not find one. There are certainly odd deficiencies in the house, considering the extraordinary evidences of wealth which are round me. The table service is of gold, and so beautifully wrought that it must be of immense value. The curtains and upholstery of the chairs and sofas and the hangings of my bed are of the costliest and most beautiful fabrics, and must have been of fabulous value when they were made, for they are centuries old, though in excellent order. I saw something like them in Vienna, but they were worn and frayed and moth-eaten. But still in none of the rooms is there a mirror. There is not even a toilet glass on my table, and I had to get the little shaving glass from my bag before I could either shave or brush my hair. I have not yet seen a servant anywhere, or heard a sound near the castle except the howling of wolves. Some time after I had finished my meal, I do not know whether to call it breakfast of dinner, for it was between five and six o’clock when I had it, I looked about for something to read, for I did not like to go about the castle until I had asked the Count’s permission. There was absolutely nothing in the room, book, newspaper, or even writing materials, so I opened another door in the room and found a sort of library. The door opposite mine I tried, but found locked.

In the library I found, to my great delight, a vast number of Greek books, whole shelves full of them, and bound volumes of magazines and newspapers. A table in the center was littered with Greek magazines and newspapers, though none of them were of very recent date. The books were of the most varied kind, history, geography, politics, political economy, botany, geology, law, all relating to the Empire and Imperial life and customs and manners. There were even such books of reference as the Constaninople Directory, the “Green” and “Blue” books, Phokas’s Almanac, the Army and Navy Lists, and it somehow gladdened my heart to see it, the Law List.

Whilst I was looking at the books, the door opened, and the Count entered. He saluted me in a hearty way, and hoped that I had had a good night’s rest. Then he went on.

“I am glad you found your way in here, for I am sure there is much that will interest you. These companions,” and he laid his hand on some of the books, “have been good friends to me, and for some years past, ever since I had the idea of going to Constantinople, have given me many, many hours of pleasure. Through them I have come to know your great Empire, and to know her is to love her. I long to go through the crowded streets of your mighty Constantinople, to be in the midst of the whirl and rush of humanity, to share its life, its change, its death, and all that makes it what it is. But alas! As yet I only know your tongue through books. To you, my friend, I look that I know it to speak.”

“But, Count,” I said, “You know and speak Greek thoroughly!” He bowed gravely.

“I thank you, my friend, for your all too-flattering estimate, but yet I fear that I am but a little way on the road I would travel. True, I know the grammar and the words, but yet I know not how to speak them.

“Indeed,” I said, “You speak excellently.”

“Not so,” he answered. “Well, I know that, did I move and speak in your Constantinople, none there are who would not know me for a stranger. That is not enough for me. Here I am noble. I am a Boyar. The common people know me, and I am master. But a stranger in a strange land, he is no one. Men know him not, and to know not is to care not for. I am content if I am like the rest, so that no man stops if he sees me, or pauses in his speaking if he hears my words, `Ha, ha! A stranger!’ I have been so long master that I would be master still, or at least that none other should be master of me. You shall, I trust, rest here with me a while, so that by our talking I may learn the Imperial intonation. And I would that you tell me when I make error, even of the smallest, in my speaking. I am sorry that I had to be away so long today, but you will, I know forgive one who has so many important affairs in hand.” Of course I said all I could about being willing, and asked if I might come into that room when I chose. He answered, “Yes, certainly,” and added.

“You may go anywhere you wish in the castle, except where the doors are locked, where of course you will not wish to go. There is reason that all things are as they are, and did you see with my eyes and know with my knowledge, you would perhaps better understand.” I said I was sure of this, and then he went on.

“We are in Transylvania, and Transylvania is not the Empire. Our ways are not your ways, and there shall be to you many strange things. Nay, from what you have told me of your experiences already, you know something of what strange things there may be.”

This led to much conversation, and as it was evident that he wanted to talk, if only for talking’s sake, I asked him many questions regarding things that had already happened to me or come within my notice. Sometimes he sheered off the subject, or turned the conversation by pretending not to understand, but generally he answered all I asked most frankly. Then as time went on, and I had got somewhat bolder, I asked him of some of the strange things of the preceding night, as for instance, why the coachman went to the places where he had seen the blue flames. He then explained to me that it was commonly believed that on a certain night of the year, last night, in fact, when all evil spirits are supposed to have unchecked sway, a blue flame is seen over any place where treasure has been concealed.

“That treasure has been hidden,” he went on, “in the region through which you came last night, there can be but little doubt. For it was the ground fought over for centuries by the Wallachian, the Saxon, and the Imperial. Why, there is hardly a foot of soil in all this region that has not been enriched by the blood of men, patriots or invaders. In the old days there were stirring times, when the Austrian and the Hungarian came up in hordes, and the patriots went out to meet them, men and women, the aged and the children too, and waited their coming on the rocks above the passes, that they might sweep destruction on them with their artificial avalanches. When the invader was triumphant he found but little, for whatever there was had been sheltered in the friendly soil.”

“But how,” said I, “can it have remained so long undiscovered, when there is a sure index to it if men will but take the trouble to look? “The Count smiled, and as his lips ran back over his gums, the long, sharp, canine teeth showed out strangely. He answered.

“Because your peasant is at heart a coward and a fool! Those flames only appear on one night, and on that night no man of this land will, if he can help it, stir without his doors. And, dear sir, even if he did he would not know what to do. Why, even the peasant that you tell me of who marked the place of the flame would not know where to look in daylight even for his own work. Even you would not, I dare be sworn, be able to find these places again?”

“There you are right,” I said. “I know no more than the dead where even to look for them.” Then we drifted into other matters.

“Come,” he said at last, “tell me of London and of the house which you have procured for me.” With an apology for my remissness, I went into my own room to get the papers from my bag. Whilst I was placing them in order I heard a rattling of china and silver in the next room, and as I passed through, noticed that the table had been cleared and the lamp lit, for it was by this time deep into the dark. The lamps were also lit in the study or library, and I found the Count lying on the sofa, reading, of all things in the world, a Greek Kyrillos’s Guide. When I came in he cleared the books and papers from the table, and with him I went into plans and deeds and figures of all sorts. He was interested in everything, and asked me a myriad questions about the place and its surroundings. He clearly had studied beforehand all he could get on the subject of the neighborhood, for he evidently at the end knew very much more than I did. When I remarked this, he answered.

We went thoroughly into the business of the Cult. I asked him questions regarding pagan Slavs who performed human sacrifice. He informed me that he was a true Christian and would never work with such barbarians. After all, he said, he was a boyar, and he did not work with such savages. However, through all of this interrogating I felt as if he was hiding something…

Presently, with an excuse, he left me, asking me to pull my papers together. He was some little time away, and I began to look at some of the books around me. One was an atlas, which I found opened naturally to the Empire, as if that map had been much used. On looking at it I found in certain places little rings marked, and on examining these I noticed that one was near Constantinople near Blachernae. The other two were the Hagia Sophia and the Senate building.

It was the better part of an hour when the Count returned. “Aha!” he said. “Still at your books? Good! But you must not work always. Come! I am informed that your supper is ready.” He took my arm, and we went into the next room, where I found an excellent supper ready on the table. The Count again excused himself, as he had dined out on his being away from home. But he sat as on the previous night, and chatted whilst I ate. After supper I smoked, as on the last evening, and the Count stayed with me, chatting and asking questions on every conceivable subject, hour after hour. I felt that it was getting very late indeed, but I did not say anything, for I felt under obligation to meet my host’s wishes in every way. I was not sleepy, as the long sleep yesterday had fortified me, but I could not help experiencing that chill which comes over one at the coming of the dawn, which is like, in its way, the turn of the tide. They say that people who are near death die generally at the change to dawn or at the turn of the tide. Anyone who has when tired, and tied as it were to his post, experienced this change in the atmosphere can well believe it. All at once we heard the crow of the cock coming up with preternatural shrillness through the clear morning air.

Count Dracula, jumping to his feet, said, “Why there is the morning again! How remiss I am to let you stay up so long. I may not forget how time flies by us,” and with a courtly bow, he quickly left me.

I went into my room and drew the curtains, but there was little to notice. My window opened into the courtyard, all I could see was the warm grey of quickening sky. So I pulled the curtains again, and have written of this day. The next day. –I began to fear as I wrote in this book that I was getting too diffuse. But now I am glad that I went into detail from the first, for there is something so strange about this place and all in it that I cannot but feel uneasy. I wish I were safe out of it, or that I had never come. It may be that this strange night existence is telling on me, but would that that were all! If there were any one to talk to I could bear it, but there is no one. I have only the Count to speak with, and he– I fear I am myself the only living soul within the place. Let me be prosaiac so far as facts can be. It will help me to bear up, and imagination must not run riot with me. If it does I am lost. Let me say at once how I stand, or seem to.

I only slept a few hours when I went to bed, and feeling that I could not sleep any more, got up. I had hung my shaving glass by the window, and was just beginning to shave. Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder, and heard the Count’s voice saying to me, “Good morning.” I started, for it amazed me that I had not seen him, since the reflection of the glass covered the whole room behind me. In starting I had cut myself slightly, but did not notice it at the moment. Having answered the Count’s salutation, I turned to the glass again to see how I had been mistaken. This time there could be no error, for the man was close to me, and I could see him over my shoulder. But there was no reflection of him in the mirror! The whole room behind me was displayed, but there was no sign of a man in it, except myself.

This was startling, and coming on the top of so many strange things, was beginning to increase that vague feeling of uneasiness which I always have when the Count is near. But at the instant I saw that the cut had bled a little, and the blood was trickling over my chin. I laid down the razor, turning as I did so half round to look for some sticking plaster. When the Count saw my face, his eyes blazed with a sort of demoniac fury, and he suddenly made a grab at my throat. I drew away and his hand touched the string of beads which held the crucifix. It made an instant change in him, for the fury passed so quickly that I could hardly believe that it was ever there.

“Take care,” he said, “take care how you cut yourself. It is more dangerous that you think in this country.” Then seizing the shaving glass, he went on, “And this is the wretched thing that has done the mischief. It is a foul bauble of man’s vanity. Away with it!” And opening the window with one wrench of his terrible hand, he flung out the glass, which was shattered into a thousand pieces on the stones of the courtyard far below. Then he withdrew without a word. It is very annoying, for I do not see how I am to shave, unless in my watch-case or the bottom of the shaving pot, which is fortunately of metal.

When I went into the dining room, breakfast was prepared, but I could not find the Count anywhere. So I breakfasted alone. It is strange that as yet I have not seen the Count eat or drink. He must be a very peculiar man! After breakfast I did a little exploring in the castle. I went out on the stairs, and found a room looking towards the South.

The view was magnificent, and from where I stood there was every opportunity of seeing it. The castle is on the very edge of a terrific precipice. A stone falling from the window would fall a thousand feet without touching anything! As far as the eye can reach is a sea of green tree tops, with occasionally a deep rift where there is a chasm. Here and there are silver threads where the rivers wind in deep gorges through the forests.

But I am not in heart to describe beauty, for when I had seen the view I explored further. Doors, doors, doors everywhere, and all locked and bolted. In no place save from the windows in the castle walls is there an available exit. The castle is a veritable prison, and I am a prisoner!

I can only hope my fellow Lancers can find me before something happens to me.

Ambrosio stared in shock at the corpse of his dead father and the body of the paralyzed socialist. He had came unarmed, not expecting a revolution. He heard bursts of gunfire happening outside Blachernae, he knew that the troops he had brought along were in deep trouble. He did not dare to speak as the lunatic reactionary pretender had already killed his father when his father shouted at the pretender for being a false emperor. Diederick looked very wary and had his hand in his pocket. Could it be that his younger brother had brought a weapon to the Senate meeting?

Senator Columba and his guard were slowly working their way through the labyrinthine servants passages of the palace covered with dirt, sweat, tears and blood that may or may not have been theirs. So far those they had come across they had been able to silence with sword or knife but as they moved onward the same question was on everyone’s mind: How long before they had to shoot? With their rifles it would be hard to miss in the halls of the palace and their revolvers were quicker though less accurate but ammunition for both was low the hadn’t planned on a fight when they had first left Retia for the city and after that everything had happened so quickly nobody had remembered to bring extra cartridges though they had been able to pick up odiments of armour fromm old wall displays that though were undoubtedly antique were better than the long kilts and bunnets (bonnets) they were wearing. They moved through a doorway and into a hallway they had left the servants passages but where exactly were they?

“Looks clear sir there’s an arch with steps just across the hall to the left.”

“Alright quickly men on 3; 1…2…3!”

They ran across the hall and through the arch.

“Everyone here?”

“Yes sir.”

“Right lets go and keep low”

They climbed the stairs moving closer to the ground as the reached the top till they were sliding across the ground. They reached the top where the arch opened onto a courtyard surrounded by a cloister which protruded from the larger buildings around it and was filled with dust from and rubble from what he had to assume was a bomb. It must have been how the man in the courtyard had managed to safely climb down from an open window above them. Henry-Martini rifles in had the guards slowly moved up until they lined the top of the stairs; slowly they moved forward eyes scanning the surrounding walls for any hint of movement. Taking a chance Columba dropped his rifle and darted over to the fountain only to find old Alexios Doukas lying by the fountain. He seemed to recall the senator had been in a similiar situation just over 30 years ago now. Columba hadn’t event been born then but he had always held Alexios in high regard for his actions back then. Now it seemed the burden lay with him this time round.

“Alexios”

“Who…?”

Neither daring to raise their voice above a whisper

“It’s me Columba what’s happening? Where is everyone? Where are we?” by this time his men had gathered in the courtyard and were checking windows and doors trying to look for a quiet way out

“Slow down man and let me speak”

“Sorry”

“That open window is the great hall where my son and his followers are holding the Empress and Senate hostage.”

“How many men did they have?”

“You can see from the Windows.”

“Right we’ll get you patched up best we can and then get moving”

“O’Donnell get over hear.”

“Governor”

“What can you do for him?”

“I managed to grab a first aid kit somewhere along the line. It’s basic but better than nothing.”

“Get to it we won’t be here long”

“McKechnie, MacKenzie get up on the cloister see those window take a peak but make sure your not seen”

“Right you are sir.”

“On it”

“Wilson find a door that isn’t locked that might lead to the hall quickly”

“Right you are sir. Uhm if you don’t mind sir, I was rather wondering if I could take Fairfax and Carstairs along with me you haven’t happened to have seen them have you?”

“No I haven’t. where are the?”

“HELLO!”

“Shhh keep it down you two!”

Fairfax and Carstairs were two of the few English people in the group and where decent chaps as they would say with rather magnificent moustaches but their posh Fighter-command style accents were unbearable

“Ohh terribly sorry old chap.”

“Didn’t mean anything by it old bean.”

“Aye,aye well Wilson wants you two so get to it.”

“Right you are!”

“Abslolutely spiffing idea”

“Keep it down(!)”

“Sorry.”

Wilson and the trouser clad tits walked off to find a suitable means of egress.

“O’Donnell how are you doing?”

“Just a while longer”

“We don’t have a while. When we move off I’ll get MacIntosh, MacGuffin and Dingwall to stay behind.”

He handed a revolver to Alexios”

“Here you go I hope you don’t have to use it but you might have to.”

“Thank you and be careful”

“You’ll pull through you did last time.”

“It was not my son I was fighting last time”

“No it wasn’t.”

“Uhm excuse me sir but I believe I may have found a suitable exit.”

“Excellent Wilson let’s get going. McKechnie, MacKenzie you two, MacDuff, and O’Neil stay behind and watch the windows but keep your heads down if we come though the doors feel free to shoot but watch who your shooting.”

“Aye sir.”

“Right let’s go.” The senator and his remaining guardsmen set off back into the palace leaving 8 of their comrades and an injured Senator behind.

((Konstantinos))

“Bring the hostages before me!” Konstantinos ordered.

Some soldiers entered the room, dragging the various members of the royal family as well as the Ecumenical Patriarch into the room. Some gasps and murmurs from the senators were heard.

“You see, false Empress, I will decide the fates of your husband, children, and religious head. I shall show mercy and spare them should you give up the throne to me,” said Konstantinos, “Otherwise…well, you all know by this point what I’m going to do. Senators, I will also be giving you one last chance; join me, or die.”

When no senator stepped forward to defect, the Empress said, “You underestimate the power of the Senate. They are utterly loyal to Us. We shall never give up the throne, especially to madmen like you. May you rot in Hell or any afterlife you believe in for eternity, traitor of the Empire.”

Konstantinos pretended not to hear the Empress’s words. “Very well, then. Guards…”

He motioned to his guards. The soldiers raised their rifles and aimed at the hostages’ heads… All of a sudden, there was the sound of whirling blades in the air. Throwing knives materialized out of nowhere and embedded themselves in the chests of the soldiers, who all went down quickly. Black-clad assassins emerged from the windows, ceiling, and basically every unexpected location for someone to enter by and descended on the soldiers silently and swiftly.

“Nobody kills the Patriarch or Empress but the Cult!” shouted a Slavic-looking man with an eyepatch as he kicked open the main doors and drew a long sword of Russian size.

Konstantinos’s eyes widened. “YOU?! THE CULT?!” he screamed.

Then he regained his calmness. “Excellent, my mortal enemy has arrived. Time to die, Iosef Ignatieff, heathen scum!”

Konstantinos drew his own sword and lunged at the Cult leader.

((Michael)) Michael hid behind a corner as he heard footsteps approach. As the enemies rounded the corner, he lunged with his dagger at…Alexios?

He barely stopped himself from slashing open his father’s throat. Alexios and the men accompanying him were equally shocked.

“Father?”

“Son?”

They embraced each other. “Thank heavens you’re alive!” both of them said.

Alexios explained to Michael how backup was arriving soon in the form of the airship La France, while Michael explained how Konstantinos was holding the royal family and the Patriarch hostage.

Together they worked out a plan to take down Konstantinos…

Columba and his men were sneaking through the palace trying to be quiet but their footsteps seemed to echo unbearably loud around the wide halls.

“Your eminence I think I saw movement.”

“Where”

“In the corridor parallel to us. Off to the left.”

“Right then. Everyone ready. We’ll jump them at the next junction we need to be quick here so on my mark: GO!”

They ran along the hall around the next corner to find themselves face to face with.

“Don’t shoot! Lefebvre you’re a sight for sore eyes how did you get in here”

Marcel Lefebvre was the commander of the Senator’s Swiss Guard company and a die-hard traditionalist and loyalist to the Empire

“We heard your summons and ran like the wind we reached the city walls at the north end. Believe it or not not one person was watching the gates or that side of the palace they were, and last I heard still are, on the other side and things are starting to get bloody out there.”

“You think so?”

“We heard gunfire just as we came into the palace so I think it’s safe to say things are getting bloody.”

“Did you bring anyone else?”

“Just my own company the others are outside keeping out of sight for now.”

“Good, they might be needed. The uniform’s a bit conspicuous”

“We didn’t have time to change. We came here expecting a birthday parade not a civil war. When we heard we dropped everything and ran but this is worse than we imagined.”

“You and me both pal.”

“SENATOR DOWN”

Marcel tried to grab the senator and throw him aside but before he could Columba had done the same to him. He turned round face to face with one of Konstantinos’ traitors mere yards away but before anyone could blink he went down only to be replaced my two men in black who turned their guns on the senator. Both men went down in a hail of lead but not before they had managed to get a shot of each one of which hit Columba in his left had. It went straight through his wrist and the center boss on his shield before clattering off the ceremonial helmet of one of the Swiss Guards. It was all over in the blink of and eye.

Everyone was staring at the corpses in disbelief.

“The cult here?” said one of the guards

“Either something bigger than we imagined is going on. Or Konstantinos and these savages who bring insult to the word “barbarian” just so happened to revolt on the same day. Let us pray it is the latter and they ave been doing us the favor of killing each other.”

“Look Out!”

One of the cultists was not dead yet. He raised his gun but all he got for his trouble was another overdose of .303 lead cure-alls. His gun fired though and the bullet ricochet off the ceiling and into Columba’s foot this time.

“AAACH Jings, criven, help me bob!” The senator hopping up and down on one leg in a manner most unbecoming of a senator

“Pardon me for asking senator” It was Marcel picking himself up off the floor and dusting himself down “but which of us exactly is meant to be the bodyguard here?”

“You’re quite right Marcel. Stupid of me but if anyone has any bandages I need them now.”

“It doesn’t look to serious those were small caliber rounds and the missed the main blood vessels.”

The guard spent the next several minutes wrapping bandages and other not so bandagey looking materials around Columba’s wrist and foot

“Right that ought to do for now. Can you walk senator.”

“I can limp”

Marcel stepped forward “Best to be hoped for given the circumstances. Now if you don’t mind we need to move”

“Quite right commander let’s go men.”

Columba moved forward as dignified and upright as it was possible for a man in his position to be.

Only to slip in the blood of the traitors and land face first in it.

“I’m alright!” he said now covered completely in blood. “But somebody do something about those bodies they’re a serious trip hazard”

A few minuets later the motley group set off again. keeping clear of the patch of floor that was stained red and had a “Danger wet floor” sign in the middle of it swords, armour and guns resplendent in the light coming through the high windows. Led by a limping blood drenched man using a Swiss halberd for a walking stick. The moved quickly now making no attempt at stealth. The entire palace would have heard those gun shots, the throne room was only a few more turns away and with more than 150 men it would be hard for anyone to overpower them now.

“It looks as though the traitors have indeed been killing each other.” Marcel announced to no one in particular.

“That means less for us to kill” was the senators reply “but we get the glory all the same!” he shouted to these behind him and was met by a loud cheer no one hard the conclusion he muttered to himself. “or shame, depending on how this turns out.”

The fabric Leonardo had used to cover his wound was soaked red and continued to bleed. He tried to keep pressure on it, but his hands were starting to feel cold and numb. Just looking at all the blood made him dizzy. He usually didn’t faint at such a sight, and perhaps it wasn’t the sight at all. He could be lightheaded from the loss of blood. And was the room moving too? How strange. The chaos going on in the room was a hazy blur. People screaming about coups, cults, and communism just gave Leonardo a booming headache. Why was this happening? Why was any of this happening? Rome was the greatest empire on Earth and had proven such from its domination of the world for centuries. Yet despite that, people kept trying to tear it down from within. Why could no one be content with all that the Empire and Empress had given them? The Empress could spoonfeed them with a silver spoon and they’d still demand more. Sudden clarity hit Leonardo like the headache plaguing his brain. There would never be an end to this madness, not while the Empire continued on its current path. No matter how much wealth and prosperity the Empire provided its people, they would always demand more. More rights, more freedom, and ultimately as a result, more bloodshed. The people of this world were greedy. They all wanted to be emperors and empresses, to live in splendour and decide the fate of the world. An empire ruled by self-indulged peasants who envisioned themselves as professional statesmen was doomed to fall. If their desires were indulged, even in the slightest, they would push for more until their greed drove the Empire to its knees. They could never be trusted to put the needs of the Empire first. Only the Empress and her predecessors had proven their ability to rule. Only under the Empress’s guidance could the Empire truly flourish. If the people succeeded in siphoning away her power to fulfill their near-sighted wants and needs, the Empire would be doomed. The only solution was to keep them from ever doing that. The people had to be kept down for their own good so that those most qualified to govern could provide everything for them. The people would not like it, but if they wanted food to eat and a place to sleep at night, they’d have to accept it. The Empire, no the entire world, would be better off this way. Leonardo was sure of it. What Leonardo was also sure of was that he was losing a lot of blood. He took one last look at his wounded leg and passed out.

((Morning of the Imperial Coup))

Magnus and Jensen await quietly in a office overlooking the Bosporus, Magnus sipping from a glass of orange juice and Jensen reading his book.

Jensen glanced over to Magnus, who was fixated on some random object, something he did often when he was nervous.

Jensen sighs and says:

“Sir, you must stop worrying, we’ve done everything you needed.”

“I always worry, if its not fool-proof, it can go wrong. Its was the one aspect I got from father.”

“Sir, you have the control of Oceania, you can’t ask for more and you certainly full-filled your part of the plan.”

“I suppose your right.”

They continued to sit in silence while Magnus shifted his focus to his yacht being prepared by some sailors.

His view was suddenly blocked by a man holding a thick package firmly in his grasp.

He uttered: “Magnus.”

Magnus’ face lit up with joy, while jumping out of his chair he exclaimed: “Kol!”

Jensen quietly closed his book while Kol and Magnus shook hands and casually walked up to them.

They noticed Jensen and calmed down instantly.

“Right then, Kol, these are from Paris?”

“I always finish my contracts.”

“Then we’re set.”

Magnus pats Kol on the shoulder and all three of them leave the office and start to approach the yacht.

One sailor notices the group approaching and whistles loudly, getting the attention of all the other sailors who also stopped working as they all met up at the dock.

The sailors formed a solid wall of people preventing the group from going on the yacht.

“Gentlemen?”

“We ain’t no gentleman, we are Romans, unlike you all.”

“Excuse me?”

“You aren’t going any where ‘Senator’, you barbarians can’t tell real Romans, like us. You foreigners are the reason all of me family is out of a job, given power by a weak Empress that probably gets off to you Germans”

“Oh my” said Jensen under his breath.

“Konstantinos is a real Roman and he’ll bring us a great purge and make Rome great again!

Murmurs of agreement come from his sailor followers.

Magnus slowly backed away from the sailors as their leader turned around to inspire his sailors further.

As the leader of the sailors turned back he noticed that Magnus and his entourage had grown from 3 to 30 and about 27 had revolvers aimed at the soldiers.

“YOU CAN’T KILL ME, EVEN THE LOWEST ROMAN IS SUPERIOR TO THE HIGHEST GERMAN!”

“I tire of this Anders.”

Suddenly the raging sailor’s head explodes and is distributed over the faces of the sailors behind him as Anders quickly rotates the chamber to a new round.

“I GREATLY tire of this Anders.”

Suddenly the sailors start to be riddled with bullets from the 27 men, falling each and every way into the water and on the deck, until each sailor laid dead.

“Satisfied sir?”

“Very much, now come along”

Magnus turns and gazes Blachernae and then the Senate Bulding and noticed smoke approaching both.

“Here comes the winds of change, may you all survive the storm.”

“Come sir, everything is set for Alexandria.”

“Good, good” said Magnus

((Throne Room)) “HAHAHAHAHAHA!” laughed Markos Angelos, Konstantinos’s right-hand-man, as he lounged on the the throne, “For too long have my family been cast aside as failures by the other Angeloi! Now we are masters of the Empire, and the Angeloi–the true Angeloi–will save the Empire after the purging is finished! The Angeloi protect! Yeah, that’s going to be my motto. And people will recognize my saintly actions soon, and refer to me as Saint Markos! Yeah, Saint Markos! That sounds like an awesome name!” ((Konstantinos)) Konstantinos was so focused on killing Ignatieff that he didn’t notice he had left the Senate room and was now fighting in the hallways, slowly pushing the Slav towards an open balcony.

“Die, filthy Slav!” he shouted, his blade repeatedly jabbing and slashing.

“Never!” replied Ignatieff.

One more lunge and Ignatieff’s sword went flying. The Cult leader stumbled backward as Konstantinos advanced and…sheathed his sword? Konstantinos picked up a pistol from a dead Varangian.

“What?!” shouted Ignatieff.

“I prefer to do things…dramatically,” said Konstantinos. “THIS…IS…ROME!”

He kicked Ignatieff off the balcony.

Konstantinos looked over the balcony to see where the body landed, but Ignatieff–or his body–had vanished. ((Senate Room)) The battle between the reactionaries and the Cult was over. Konstantinos’s guards lay dead on the floor as the Cultists turned to look at the Senators.

“You all live…for now,” said their leader, “We will meet again another day.”

And the Cultists vanished as quicklky as they had arrived. ((Harbor)) As some ships tried to escape the city, Konstantinos’s supporters raised a large chain across the Bosphorus, preventing any ships from leaving. ((The La France)) “Colonel, we are approaching Constantinople,” said an officer, “The situation looks rather bad down there.”

“Nothing a few bombs can’t fix,” said Colonel John Melissenos, “Steer a course for Blachernae and drop our payload on any hostiles below.”

Several explosives dropped from the bottom of the La France, dispersing some of the mobs. ((Alexios) The two walked through the deserted halls of the palace.

“Where did Konstantinos go?” muttered Michael, “He’s not in the Senate.”

“Strange, yes,” said Alexios, “I’ll look around for him.”

They separated.

Alexios emerged onto a balcony, where he found Konstantinos standing alone, staring off into the distance and overlooking the city.

“Such…pureness…and I had to ruin it…” Konstantinos said. “But it was necessary to purge the disloyal elements to restore the Empire’s greatness.”

In the distance, they saw the La France approaching Blachernae, dropping bombs on the mobs and rebels.

Alexios was unarmed–that last scuffle with a rebel soldier caused him to drop his weapons in a hurry.

But he could still take down Konstantinos…at a price…

((Ioannes Dalassenos)) When I found that I was a prisoner a sort of wild feeling came over me. I rushed up and down the stairs, trying every door and peering out of every window I could find, but after a little the conviction of my helplessness overpowered all other feelings. When I look back after a few hours I think I must have been mad for the time, for I behaved much as a rat does in a trap. When, however, the conviction had come to me that I was helpless I sat down quietly, as quietly as I have ever done anything in my life, and began to think over what was best to be done. I am thinking still, and as yet have come to no definite conclusion. Of one thing only am I certain. That it is no use making my ideas known to the Count. He knows well that I am imprisoned, and as he has done it himself, and has doubtless his own motives for it, he would only deceive me if I trusted him fully with the facts. So far as I can see, my only plan will be to keep my knowledge and my fears to myself, and my eyes open. I am, I know, either being deceived, like a baby, by my own fears, or else I am in desperate straits, and if the latter be so, I need, and shall need, all my brains to get through.

I had hardly come to this conclusion when I heard the great door below shut, and knew that the Count had returned. He did not come at once into the library, so I went cautiously to my own room and found him making the bed. This was odd, but only confirmed what I had all along thought, that there are no servants in the house. When later I saw him through the chink of the hinges of the door laying the table in the dining room, I was assured of it. For if he does himself all these menial offices, surely it is proof that there is no one else in the castle, it must have been the Count himself who was the driver of the coach that brought me here. This is a terrible thought, for if so, what does it mean that he could control the wolves, as he did, by only holding up his hand for silence? How was it that all the people at Bistritz and on the coach had some terrible fear for me? What meant the giving of the crucifix, of the garlic, of the wild rose, of the mountain ash?

Bless that good, good woman who hung the crucifix round my neck! For it is a comfort and a strength to me whenever I touch it. It is odd that a thing which I have been taught to regard with disfavour and as idolatrous should in a time of loneliness and trouble be of help. Is it that there is something in the essence of the thing itself, or that it is a medium, a tangible help, in conveying memories of sympathy and comfort? Some time, if it may be, I must examine this matter and try to make up my mind about it. In the meantime I must find out all I can about Count Dracula, as it may help me to understand. Tonight he may talk of himself, if I turn the conversation that way. I must be very careful, however, not to awake his suspicion.

Midnight.

–I have had a long talk with the Count. I asked him a few questions on Transylvania’s history, which I was unfamiliar to, and he warmed up to the subject wonderfully. In his speaking of things and people, and especially of battles, he spoke as if he had been present at them all. This he afterwards explained by saying that to a Boyar the pride of his house and name is his own pride, that their glory is his glory, that their fate is his fate. Whenever he spoke of his house he always said “we”, and spoke almost in the plural, like a king speaking. I wish I could put down all he said exactly as he said it, for to me it was most fascinating. It seemed to have in it a whole history of the country. He grew excited as he spoke, and walked about the room pulling his great white moustache and grasping anything on which he laid his hands as though he would crush it by main strength. One thing he said which I shall put down as nearly as I can, for it tells in its way the story of his race.

“We Szekelys have a right to be proud, for in our veins flows the blood of many brave races who fought as the lion fights, for lordship. Here, in the whirlpool of European races, the Ugric tribe bore down from Iceland the fighting spirit which Thor and Wodin game them, which their Berserkers displayed to such fell intent on the seaboards of Europe, aye, and of Asia and Africa too, till the peoples thought that the werewolves themselves had come; and to hear that your Empire had harnessed their power in the Varangians! Here, too, when they came, they found the Huns, whose warlike fury had swept the earth like a living flame, till the dying peoples held that in their veins ran the blood of those old witches, who, expelled from Scythia had mated with the devils in the desert. Fools, fools! What devil or what witch was ever so great as Attila, whose blood is in these veins?” He held up his arms. “Is it a wonder that we were a conquering race, that we were proud, that when the Magyar, the Lombard, the Avar, the Bulgar, or the Imperial poured his thousands on our frontiers, we drove them back? Is it strange that when Arpad and his legions swept through the Hungarian fatherland he found us here when he reached the frontier, that the Honfoglalas was completed there?And when the Hungarian flood swept eastward, the Szekelys were claimed as kindred by the victorious Magyars, and to us for centuries was trusted the guarding of the frontier of the Empire. Aye, and more than that, endless duty of the frontier guard, for as the Imperials say, `water sleeps, and the enemy is sleepless.’ Who more gladly than we throughout the Four Nations received the `bloody sword,’ or at its warlike call flocked quicker to the standard of the King? Who was it but one of my own race who as Voivode crossed the Danube and beat our enemies on his own ground? This was a Dracula indeed! Bah! What good are peasants without a leader? Where ends the war without a brain and heart to conduct it? Ah, young sir, the Szekelys, and the Dracula as their heart’s blood, their brains, and their swords, can boast a record that mushroom growths like the Hapsburgs and the Rurikids and the Doukoi can never reach (may your Empress reign for many long years, I assure you I have nothing against her). The warlike days are over. Blood is too precious a thing in these days of dishonourable peace, and the glories of the great races are as a tale that is told.”

It was by this time close on morning, and we went to bed. (Mem., this diary seems horribly like the beginning of the “Arabian Nights,” for everything has to break off at cockcrow, or like the ghost of Hamlet’s father.) The next day. –Let me begin with facts, bare, meager facts, verified by books and figures, and of which there can be no doubt. I must not confuse them with experiences which will have to rest on my own observation, or my memory of them. Last evening when the Count came from his room he began by asking me questions on legal matters and on the doing of certain kinds of business, which was quite different from the interrogations I had been conducting. I had spent the day wearily over books, and, simply to keep my mind occupied, went over some of the matters I had been examined in at Loukas’s Inn. There was a certain method in the Count’s inquiries, so I shall try to put them down in sequence. The knowledge may somehow or some time be useful to me.

[REDACTED]

“I trust you will forgive me, but I have much work to do in private this evening. You will, I hope, find all things as you wish.” At the door he turned, and after a moment’s pause said, “Let me advise you, my dear young friend. Nay, let me warn you with all seriousness, that should you leave these rooms you will not by any chance go to sleep in any other part of the castle. It is old, and has many memories, and there are bad dreams for those who sleep unwisely. Be warned! Should sleep now or ever overcome you, or be like to do, then haste to your own chamber or to these rooms, for your rest will then be safe. But if you be not careful in this respect, then,” He finished his speech in a gruesome way, for he motioned with his hands as if he were washing them. I quite understood. My only doubt was as to whether any dream could be more terrible than the unnatural, horrible net of gloom and mystery which seemed closing around me. Later. –I endorse the last words written, but this time there is no doubt in question. I shall not fear to sleep in any place where he is not. I have placed the crucifix over the head of my bed, I imagine that my rest is thus freer from dreams, and there it shall remain.

When he left me I went to my room. After a little while, not hearing any sound, I came out and went up the stone stair to where I could look out towards the South. There was some sense of freedom in the vast expanse, inaccessible though it was to me, as compared with the narrow darkness of the courtyard. Looking out on this, I felt that I was indeed in prison, and I seemed to want a breath of fresh air, though it were of the night. I am beginning to feel this nocturnal existence tell on me. It is destroying my nerve. I start at my own shadow, and am full of all sorts of horrible imaginings. God knows that there is ground for my terrible fear in this accursed place!I looked out over the beautiful expanse, bathed in soft yellow moonlight till it was almost as light as day. In the soft light the distant hills became melted, and the shadows in the valleys and gorges of velvety blackness. The mere beauty seemed to cheer me. There was peace and comfort in every breath I drew. As I leaned from the window my eye was caught by something moving a storey below me, and somewhat to my left, where I imagined, from the order of the rooms, that the windows of the Count’s own room would look out. The window at which I stood was tall and deep, stone-mullioned, and though weatherworn, was still complete. But it was evidently many a day since the case had been there. I drew back behind the stonework, and looked carefully out.

What I saw was the Count’s head coming out from the window. I did not see the face, but I knew the man by the neck and the movement of his back and arms. In any case I could not mistake the hands which I had had some many opportunities of studying. I was at first interested and somewhat amused, for it is wonderful how small a matter will interest and amuse a man when he is a prisoner. But my very feelings changed to repulsion and terror when I saw the whole man slowly emerge from the window and begin to crawl down the castle wall over the dreadful abyss, face down with his cloak spreading out around him like great wings. At first I could not believe my eyes. I thought it was some trick of the moonlight, some weird effect of shadow, but I kept looking, and it could be no delusion. I saw the fingers and toes grasp the corners of the stones, worn clear of the mortar by the stress of years, and by thus using every projection and inequality move downwards with considerable speed, just as a lizard moves along a wall.

What manner of man is this, or what manner of creature, is it in the semblance of man? I feel the dread of this horrible place overpowering me. I am in fear, in awful fear, and there is no escape for me. I am encompassed about with terrors that I dare not think of. He is empowered by the Cult, I am sure of it! Three days later… –Once more I have seen the count go out in his lizard fashion. He moved downwards in a sidelong way, some hundred feet down, and a good deal to the left. He vanished into some hole or window. When his head had disappeared, I leaned out to try and see more, but without avail. The distance was too great to allow a proper angle of sight. I knew he had left the castle now, and thought to use the opportunity to explore more than I had dared to do as yet. I went back to the room, and taking a lamp, tried all the doors. They were all locked, as I had expected, and the locks were comparatively new. But I went down the stone stairs to the hall where I had entered originally. I found I could pull back the bolts easily enough and unhook the great chains. But the door was locked, and the key was gone! That key must be in the Count’s room. I must watch should his door be unlocked, so that I may get it and escape. I went on to make a thorough examination of the various stairs and passages, and to try the doors that opened from them. One or two small rooms near the hall were open, but there was nothing to see in them except old furniture, dusty with age and moth-eaten. At last, however, I found one door at the top of the stairway which, though it seemed locked, gave a little under pressure. I tried it harder, and found that it was not really locked, but that the resistance came from the fact that the hinges had fallen somewhat, and the heavy door rested on the floor. Here was an opportunity which I might not have again, so I exerted myself, and with many efforts forced it back so that I could enter. I was now in a wing of the castle further to the right than the rooms I knew and a storey lower down. From the windows I could see that the suite of rooms lay along to the south of the castle, the windows of the end room looking out both west and south. On the latter side, as well as to the former, there was a great precipice. The castle was built on the corner of a great rock, so that on three sides it was quite impregnable, and great windows were placed here where sling, or bow, or culverin could not reach, and consequently light and comfort, impossible to a position which had to be guarded, were secured. To the west was a great valley, and then, rising far away, great jagged mountain fastnesses, rising peak on peak, the sheer rock studded with mountain ash and thorn, whose roots clung in cracks and crevices and crannies of the stone. This was evidently the portion of the castle occupied by the ladies in bygone days, for the furniture had more an air of comfort than any I had seen.

The windows were curtainless, and the yellow moonlight, flooding in through the diamond panes, enabled one to see even colours, whilst it softened the wealth of dust which lay over all and disguised in some measure the ravages of time and moth. My lamp seemed to be of little effect in the brilliant moonlight, but I was glad to have it with me, for there was a dread loneliness in the place which chilled my heart and made my nerves tremble. Still, it was better than living alone in the rooms which I had come to hate from the presence of the Count, and after trying a little to school my nerves, I found a soft quietude come over me. Here I am, sitting at a little oak table where in old times possibly some fair lady sat to pen, with much thought and many blushes, her ill-spelt love letter, and writing in my diary in shorthand all that has happened since I closed it last. It is the nineteenth century up-to-date with a vengeance. And yet, unless my senses deceive me, the old centuries had, and have, powers of their own which mere “modernity” cannot kill. Later: The morning of the next day. WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO ME?! –God preserve my sanity, for to this I am reduced. Safety and the assurance of safety are things of the past. Whilst I live on here there is but one thing to hope for, that I may not go mad, if, indeed, I be not mad already. If I be sane, then surely it is maddening to think that of all the foul things that lurk in this hateful place the Count is the least dreadful to me, that to him alone I can look for safety, even though this be only whilst I can serve his purpose. Great God! Merciful God, let me be calm, for out of that way lies madness indeed. I begin to get new lights on certain things which have puzzled me. Up to now I never quite knew what Shakespeare meant when he made Hamlet say, “My tablets! Quick, my tablets! `tis