Against the Brotherhood (6 page)

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Authors: Chelsea Quinn Yarbro,Bill Fawcett

Tags: #Holmes, #Mystery, #plot, #murder, #intrigue, #spy, #assassin, #Victorian, #Chelsea Quinn Yarbro

BOOK: Against the Brotherhood
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“That I have,” I said, making no move to invite him into the room, or to apologize for my pistol. “Though I don’t know what business it is of yours.”

“Ah, Mister Jeffries,” said the Devon man, “I don’t mean to intrude in your affairs, but I would appreciate a minute of your time. You follow the stars, and when a man commits himself to a venture of so uncertain a nature, I would hope he would allow his stars to guide him.” He moved nearer so that I would be forced to admit him or close the door in his face.

I was curious about the man and his purpose for coming, so I gracelessly held the door open for him, and indicated the single chair in the room; I went and sat on the corner of the bed. “What’s this about, then? And tell me quickly. I don’t have hours to spare.”

“I have reviewed the information you provided me in regard to your birth, and I wished to remind you that there is a very powerful transit coming up in regard to your natal sun.” He continued to smile at me as if he were a painted puppet.

“Yes,” I said, wondering what this man was actually looking for, as it certainly was not to inform me of what I presumably already knew. “And they will be most powerful on the eleventh of next month.”

“And the twelfth,” said the Devon man. “I hope you will let me offer you a little advice in this regard.” He folded his hands, looking for all the world like a small, earnest, nearsighted animal with glasses perched on his nose.

“What do you want to tell me?” I asked, beginning to think the man’s naiveté was genuine.

“That it would be folly for you to suppose you may use the favorable conditions of the stars to push for advantage with Mister Vickers. He has much more at his command than the influences of Jupiter and Mars. He will not excuse any lapse on your part, once he has entrusted you with a task.” He scowled and looked down at the toe of his polished boot. “Play him false and you will suffer for it as you have never imagined possible.”

“Very well,” I said. So this was what the man was doing—delivering a threat for Vickers.

“He has many servants in this world; some of them are in Germany as well as France. Do not think you will be unobserved while you are on this mission for him. And if you think to escape him, you will discover that there is no place on earth he cannot reach you and exact vengeance for your betrayal.”

“I will strive to remember that,” I said, as a grue slid down my spine. I had no doubt that this last was true.

“He is a very powerful force in the world,” the Devon man said, for emphasis. “Keep that in mind.” He rose from the creaking chair. “You might want to read the accounts in the papers two years ago of Henry Gordon-Hughes. There is coverage of the case in the
Times.
It would be instructive to you to familiarize yourself with the case.” He went to the door and opened it.

“Henry Gordon-Hughes,” I repeated as if the name were strange to me, though I recalled the dreadful matter well enough: Henry Gordon-Hughes was found on a stretch of sand by the North Sea in Holland. He had been flayed alive.

“Yes. He failed to complete a mission for Mister Vickers.” And with that, the man with the Devonshire accent was gone, leaving me with a number of distressing thoughts to bedevil my sleep.

FROM THE PERSONAL JOURNAL OF PHILIP TYERS:

M.H. sustained a visit from Miss Roedale of Twyford shortly before noon; she was much distressed that her fiancé has been called away from her at this time. It appears that there is to be an important gathering of her family which G. was supposed to attend and now will not be able to. Miss Roedale informed M.H. that she had not anticipated such disruptions in her life when she learned that G. worked for a member of the government. M.H. did what he could to assure the young woman that this mission could not be helped or set aside, which somewhat mollified the young lady.

“I AM SORRY
,
my dear Guthrie,” said Mycroft Holmes the next morning as he arrived at the chamber of Solicitor James about twenty minutes after I had sent word through James that it was urgent I see him. “I would have been here earlier, but I did not want to attract any undue attention to our meeting here. And I was inconvenienced when I found my flat had been thoroughly and messily searched when I returned from my club last night. Tyers was visiting his mother at the time, and that left the culprits free to cast about like wild men.”

“Good God,” I said in dismay. “Was anything of value taken?”

“Not that I have been able to determine after a cursory examination. Tyers is setting the place to rights now, and I will learn more later.” He took my note from his pocket. “So Vickers wants to send you to Germany today. He is not taking any chances that you might change your mind, or have the opportunity to learn too much to his disadvantage.”

“So it seemed to me,” I agreed, trying to put as good a face upon matters as I could. “He has already done all that he can to ensure that I will be beholden to him.”

“And he will try to do more,” said Mycroft Holmes. “It has long been his pattern to bind his servants to him with fear and indebtedness of all kinds. You will have to make it seem you are willing to be one of his creatures.” He paced down the room, hands clasped behind his back. “I can only think it is indeed the Freising Treaty he is seeking to obtain, and that is not welcome intelligence.”

“What is it about this treaty that troubles you so much in this regard?” I asked.

Mycroft Holmes halted and gave me a long, direct stare. “This treaty may not be particularly significant in and of itself, but there are ramifications to it that cause me the gravest concern. This treaty may be the last chance to prevent a destructive war that could tear apart half of Europe. I dare say it may drag us into another calamity like the Crimea. And it is all the result of folly.” He took a cigar from his case and returned the case to the inside pocket of his coat. “Nations, very much like people, need to grow.”

I watched Holmes, wondering if he intended this last reflection to apply to my youth and inexperience. But he was snipping off the end of the cigar, apparently unaware of my presence. As he lit the cigar, he gave a quick glance in my direction, and then stared up at the ceiling.

“There are so many young nations today,” he explained, luxuriating in the first puff of rum-flavored smoke. “Some are not much more than children in the scheme of things. In the past such new nations looked to older, wiser states for direction, and to curb their impetuousness. But not now, not with the powerful German states uniting under the Prussian banner and the hand of Otto von Bismarck. This rapid emergence has been at the expense of the Hapsburgs. Austria as we knew it is fading rapidly, and it is being supplanted by a nation with no tradition of responsible government, much less any diplomatic sagacity.” He studied the graceful arabesques from the glowing tip of his cigar as if a code were hidden there that he might break.

Although I had not yet fully grasped the extent to which my employer was involved in foreign affairs, I sensed that he had more than an academic interest in European developments. When he ventured nothing more, I asked, “Is there to be a treaty between Germany and Austria?”

“Actually, no. Their problems cannot yet be addressed. There are other, more pressing matters to be settled before those questions may be answered.” He flicked the ash off his cigar. “This treaty was negotiated by England as a neutral party in order to prevent a particularly disruptive war from erupting in the Balkans. A most unsatisfactory region, the Balkans: everyone is eager to rule himself for the specific purpose of being free to slaughter his neighbor.”

“If the region is as volatile as you say, why should we bother with such pugnacious peoples?” I asked. It hardly seemed worth the effort to me.

Mister Holmes sighed and commenced to twirl his watch fob. “Yes. Ordinarily it would be a useless venture. But their interminable struggles do not involve only themselves. Every nation in the area, including Italy, feels the need to demonstrate its influence in the disputes. More than that, they all fear loss of importance should they fail to take action. The great powers are trapped by their sense of national honor as well as their fear of appearing weak or indecisive. Thus they mobilize their armies over questions of endless dilemmas of regional borders and the duty charged on fox pelts.”

“But surely,” I began, hoping to glean some reason from what he had said, “this need not result in war?”

“Need not, but very nearly did.” Mycroft Holmes stopped twirling his watch fob and spoke more thoughtfully. “Two nations, neither as populous nor as advanced as England, were just on the brink of coming to battle. Unfortunately every major nation except England has agreements that would require them to intervene in this conflict. None of them felt secure enough to turn away from the impending crisis.”

I took up his tone with more indignation. “And because a handful of hill-people cannot agree on their—”

“This was not simply a matter of a few peasants potting away at one another. We could have had all Europe and Russia joining in the argument. We came very close to Armageddon last month.”

“Then what does Vickers want with the treaty? Your book said the Brotherhood seeks the downfall of European states; why not let well enough alone, and let the war come?” I could see where those in high governmental positions might oppose this treaty, but I could not guess what a man of Vickers’ interests would gain from compromising it.

“Ah, that may be the heart of the issue,” said Mycroft Holmes. “He is indeed part of the occult Brotherhood—as you say, you read something of their history the other day—which seeks to bring about the downfall of all royal houses in Europe and Asia. Its goal is the complete destruction of all nations and empires so that they may assume total power in place of the legitimate rulers.” He shook his head. “They must not prevail.”

“No, certainly not,” I said at once, finding the whole notion dreadful.

“And you will have the task of preventing their interference with this treaty. For if it fails, there will be more and greater difficulties because of it.” He drew on his cigar and blew out the smoke. “For now the Balkan crisis has been diffused. The treaty we are concerned with gives guarantees by England to one of those countries involved—enough so that they have prevailed upon their smaller ally in the Balkans to give ground. The treaty has been most aptly named the Treaty of Reassurance.”

I shared his ironic smile. “An interesting touch.”

“Isn’t it,” he said, and went on, “Our problem now is that there are nations, some who are numbered among England’s friends, who would not entirely approve certain secret clauses in the treaty.” He set the cigar aside. His voice was now more solemn than I had ever heard it before. “The matter is too grave for rumor and suspicion to prevail. The exposure of those secret clauses as we have signed and sealed them would bring about the very war it is supposed to prevent. I have striven too long to permit peace to elude us now. Only two copies of the entire treaty exist. One is safely under the domes of the other signatory’s capital. The other, due to the peculiarities of the messenger entrusted with its safe escort to London, is at risk.”

“You mean it would be possible for the Brotherhood to obtain it?” I asked, much shocked.

Holmes waved his hand, and the cigar left traces of it in the air. “Diplomacy often goes down some very strange roads, Guthrie. In this case, the messenger was agreeable to both sides, peculiarities and all.”

“But if the Brotherhood steals the treaty—” I exclaimed.

“Exactly. Such a disaster is what the Brotherhood desires most, and what we, Guthrie, you and I, must prevent at all costs.” He repeated the last grimly. “All costs.”

I had not reckoned on such high stakes in this venture, and was attempting to find a way to express my misgivings when it struck me that much of this conflict that so troubled Holmes must be ongoing. “When did all this begin?” I asked him, hoping to learn the source of the trouble.

“It started long ago,” said Mycroft Holmes, “in Europe with a group of renegade Masons and a lodge of occultists, who decided they would have to band together if they were ever to achieve the downfall of the great houses of Europe. They combined the most radical of Masonic notions with the manipulative strength of the occultists into one, hidden, subversive movement that had support from many ambitious nobles, those who had sought advancement and had not achieved it. The alliance has continued to this day. It is often at the very heart of the most nefarious plots that strike at the seat of power. I am personally aware of six lodges of this Brotherhood currently active in England and Europe. And I know that Vickers is the leader of the lodge active in London.” He lowered his voice. “In addition, I am aware of more than a dozen murders committed by this one lodge in the last five years alone.”

“Henry Gordon-Hughes,” I said.

Mycroft Holmes regarded me steadily, saying in a low voice, “Why, yes, he was one. There have been others, I am saddened to tell you.” His frown deepened as he stubbed out the end of his cigar. “I am loath to send you on this mission, but there is no one else whom Vickers will accept at this point, and so, with notice much shorter than I anticipated a week ago, I am afraid it will have to be you, or we must face the possibility of failure with the treaty. Which I dare not contemplate.” He rocked back on his heels, which I had learned meant that he found the matter under discussion unacceptable.

“I will go, of course,” I said, hoping I did not sound as frightened as I was. What had my employer put me into? “But I am a secretary, not a man of action, and I may not be able to—”

“My dear Guthrie, you are young, you are intelligent, and you are resourceful. I have great confidence in your abilities.” Mycroft Holmes put his hand on my shoulder. “I can think of no one else in whom I could repose the confidence I have in you.”

This encomium was much more than any I had expected. And if his motives for giving it were less than pristine, I could not make myself question them. Though were the mission not for the protection of my country, I might have felt I had been taken advantage of by both Vickers and Mycroft Holmes. The importance of the task overshadowed all other considerations. “I will do my utmost to discharge my duty to your satisfaction.”

“Excellent. I was convinced I could not be mistaken in you.” He went to the desk and sat down, pulling a map from one of the pigeonholes and spreading it out. “As you see, your destination is very near Munich, in what was once the Bishopric of Freising in the Electorate of Bavaria, according to the terms of the Peace of Westphalia—”

“That was 1648, as I recall,” I interjected, to show I was not wholly ignorant of the history of the region.

Mycroft Holmes nodded once, his manner decisive. “You are correct. Being near Munich and controlled by the Church made this odd little sliver of land much more important than its acreage might appear to suggest. Even today there are crucial alliances in that region which are vital to English interests in Europe, as you have gathered from what I’ve told you.”

I listened in growing apprehension, for it seemed to me that as determined as I was to succeed at my task, there were those opponents who were as determined as I to see it fail.

“If you are not feeling the ill effects of that horrible inn, I hope you will permit me to provide you with a light meal before you leave.” He smiled at me pleasantly, and went on in response to my look of surprise. “Well, you are heavy-eyed, and your stomach has growled twice since you arrived.”

“I hoped you had not noticed,” I said, feeling embarrassed.

“With what you must have had for fare, I am astonished you are not quite green about the gills,” said my employer. “A mutton pie and some cheese will put you to rights again.”

“Thank you, sir. It would be very welcome.” My mouth was watering.

“There are just a few more matters to tend to, and then you may have your pie. Tell me, Guthrie, what do you think is the most important thing you can do at this time?” Mycroft Holmes regarded me with expectant cordiality, as if he were confident of my answer before I had even decided what it was.

“Follow the instructions Vickers gives me?” I suggested.

“I knew I was correct to employ you,” he approved. “Yes. Do nothing to alert him to your real purpose. Let him think he has suborned you—meaning August Jeffries—with the promise of money and an end to the restrictions of your father’s will. Make him think you are venal and greedy, so that he will not be inclined to know more of you. If he is persuaded you are his tool, you will be able to penetrate the maze of his lodge, and, perhaps, the Brotherhood as well. Which service would be of greatest importance to England and the Crown.”

It was, I admit, thrilling to think my activities could have such overwhelming importance, and I was not immune to pride as I listened. I was also keenly aware that I could not accomplish this assignment without help, and I summoned my courage to say
so
.
“I will need a way to contact you, for I will have to relay information and receive your instructions as I travel.”

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