Agatha H and the Voice of the Castle

A second blow drove him to the floor, unconscious. “Glad you like it,” Agatha said, panting. She looked up at the frozen seneschal. “Herr von Mekkhan,” she glanced at the rest of the crowd. “I’m putting these people in danger just by being here. It would be best if I got into the castle. Quickly.”

The unmistakable sound of weapons being cocked caused every eye to swing back towards the front door. There stood Vole’s companions. It was obvious that they had been chosen for their willingness to cause damage, as opposed to the Wulfenbach Empire’s usual high standards, but while slow, they had finally registered their leader’s trouble.

“I think you’ll come with us, Miss, you are under arrest.” He indicated the prone Jäger with the tip of his rifle. “Captain Vole seemed to have a grudge against you, but I don’t. Not yet. Our orders are just to bring you in. Whether it’s alive or dead is at our discretion. So let’s all be discreet, hey?”

This unexpected display of civility and tact was spoiled by a paving stone hitting him between the eyes. Within an instant, bricks, bottles, and other debris showered down upon the remaining two soldiers, followed by a swarm of townspeople.

“Stop!” The mob froze and stared at Agatha. “They didn’t shoot. Don’t kill them.” For a long couple of seconds nothing happened and then a tall man in a leather apron swatted a younger man on the back of his head. “Back to the shop! Get thirty meters of Number Three rope!” He glanced at Vole. “And four of Number Six chain.” The young man left at a run and the crowd laid the unconscious men out. A team began dragging the still-comatose Jäger out onto the street. Others began sweeping through the café, collecting up tools and materials.

Agatha turned to Carson. “This will only get worse. Get me to the castle. Now.”

The old man nodded. “It looks like I’d better.” He turned to one of the café’s waitresses, who was gently leading out a serene Vanamonde. “I’ll have to ask you and the rest of the girls to keep an eye on my grandson.”

The girl smiled. “Of course, sir. We’ll get him home.”

Van clapped his hands together and squealed. “Of course they will! They’re perfect!”

The old man sighed. “With any luck this will wear off soon,” he muttered.

The girl nodded. “I certainly hope so. He’s creeping me out.”

Agatha and Carson strode off. Krosp trotted alongside, while Zeetha and Wooster brought up the rear, scanning the area for trouble.

What they saw was not trouble, but evidence that trouble was on its way. Everywhere, spreading out from the now closed café behind them, shops were suddenly pulling their wares in from the street and pulling down their shutters, to the growing consternation of the tourists.

Seeing a growing crowd ahead, the old man steered them to a narrow flight of stone steps and they found themselves striding atop an ancient wall. This was obviously once part of some fortifications, but as Mechanicsburg had grown, it had been incorporated into the inner structures of the town. There were a lot fewer people here, and von Mekkhan took a deep sigh.

“Normally, I would just take you straight to the front gate,” he said thoughtfully.

Agatha peered over the wall and saw a squad of Wulfenbach troops jogging along one of the streets below. “But that’s not a good idea now.”

Carson nodded. “It’s not just Wulfenbach. The false Heterodyne’s people will be looking for you as well.”

Krosp leapt to the top of the wall and looked around with interest. “As seneschal, you must know all the doors. Even the secret ones.”

“Of course, but it won’t do to underestimate these people. If they think you’re here, I wouldn’t put it past them to have even the secret doors watched.”

Wooster frowned. “They don’t sound like they’re terribly secret,” he remarked.

Carson looked slightly embarrassed. “You can buy tourist maps that list most of them.” Under Agatha’s incredulous stare, he shrugged. “Sane people don’t try to get into the Castle.”

They turned a corner and before them loomed a gigantic tower. It stood almost ten stories tall, a squat, circular structure built of native rock, encrusted with the occasional decorative panel, rusty spike, and the ubiquitous trilobites. After the castle, it was probably the tallest structure in Mechanicsburg.

Atop this was a vivid red, pagoda-like structure from which hung an immense bronze bell, easily six meters tall. The surface of the bell, along with the huge chains that held it aloft, were covered in a thick green patina of age, except for a large bas-relief skull, which sported a large gilded trilobite set into its forehead.

“The Doom Bell,” Carson declared proudly. “Only to be rung when a new Heterodyne is born, an old Heterodyne dies, or the Heterodyne returns from abroad.”

“So I guess you’ll have to ring it for Agatha when you’re convinced she’s the real deal,” Krosp remarked.

Carson looked startled and then a growing expression of worry crossed his face. “We…we might…” he conceded. “Oh, dear.”