Grand Tour cont. : The Night Before

“Oh, Wilhelm,” Lady Louise sighed as they step out together onto the terrace from the noisy ballroom, “these Frankfurters are fun, but their food seems all charred!”
“It’s their obsession with grilling and frying, I suppose,” he answered. “Still, you need that kind of fortification for what they call an evening’s light dancing!”
Lady Louise laughs, as there is a moment’s pause in the music and some polite applause. “They do take their drinking seriously though,” she giggles, “don’t they?”
“I understand it’s something to do with local religious traditions,” Prinz Wilhem grins. “I’d never heard an argument as whether beer or wine was more sacred before either.”
The couple falls silent as they notice a sudden mass movement on the grounds below them. The guard, in his parade uniform is joined by about a dozen others and a sergeant. From the glances the men cast up, the couple perceives that the soldiers are obviously concerned about them. “Excuse us, sir,” Lady Louise calls down, “but did we cause you trouble?”
“Of course not,” a gruff but educated voice answered from behind them. Turning quickly, they find Major Ricewits of the Ducal Staff smiling at them. “It’s just that we don’t want a repeat of the last time,” he chuckles.
“Last time?” Prinz Wilhem asks.
“Shootings, though that’s already happened, duels, poison, and God knows what.”
“In the Palace?” Lady Louise gasps.
“No, it was a mansion out in the suburbs,” the Major responds genially. “It got badly shot up in last year’s battles, I’m afraid or we’d be there again ... better perimeter and all.”
“And .... what WAS this ‘last time’?” the Prinz insists.
“Well, a big ball for the Ladies Pettygree and Masquerade who’d come to celebrate the official Christening of the Urpprinz.’ Ricewits pauses a moment before continuing, “When you’re beautiful, talented, and have the ears of some of the major potentates, it seems that trouble can’t be far behind. We’ve got quite a load of royalty and nobility here, and frankly our local politics aren ‘t as healthy as anyone of us would like.”
“What’s up?”
“Well, it’s a little confusing. First of all, we’re occupied by major force we can’t hope to challenge directly, but which the people really don’t like. Our rulers are supposedly Catholic and the people devoutly Lutheran. Meanwhile the Syndics and Jews flourish under this Hurtshog and every outlying little town thinks we’re out to gobble them up. Added to that we do have some serious and perverted enemies. All that can be predicted about them is that they will try to make trouble too.” The major sighs, “Tonight, all is still calm. We hope to provide you a day or two more fun than ... ah .... interesting and exciting,” The major laughs a little and strolls away into the shadows.
Louise turns to Wilhelm with a worried, perhaps a little frightened gasp. “Andrew noticed some things on the way into town as well, darling,” he responds seriously. “We’ve got our own guard up too. It’s a byword that l’Comte Bastille is driven paranoid by the Frankfurters, but he’s still healthy and prosperous, so will we be.”

—

In the darkness, at the Saxenhausen Gate (Saxenhausen is Frankfurt’s fortified bridgehead across the Main), the guards challenge a tired rider on an exhausted horse. The rider notices that the guards are all Frankszonian and makes a professional note of the fact. “I’ve an urgent, personal message for the Ritter von Meltzer,” the rider declares. “He’s with the Grand Tour party of Reich Duke Wilhelm and King Basil.”
“Very well,” the young Lieutenant answers. “Dismount and lead your horse in through the sally port. We’ll water you both while we check your story.”
“My documents from the Margrafin von Raubenstadt,” Erwin von Mack proffers some papers to the men as he passes through the gate.
Inside the gatehouse, some men see to his horse and a private brings v. Mack a large stein of quality larger. Mack drinks the beer slowly as his professional eyes note the positions of the guards ... and a preloaded battery of small guns inside the gate. “What’s the threat?” he asks an off duty sergeant who is smoking a rather long pipe inside the room.
“Officially,” the sergeant grins, “we’re at war with the Kingdom of St. Maurice. Unofficially, the Gallian Gen. Broglie has threatened to impress every man who stand up, see lighting, and hear thunder if we fire another musket at each other.”
Mack laughs, but notices how one squad keeps behind and covers the forward squad and that there were gunners standing alert near the guns. *Nice excuse,* he thinks, *I wonder if the Hurtshog has heard the same rumors that we have?*
“Irwin! Good God!” a loud voice breaks into his reverie. “It’s been ages! I haven’t you since that affair at Weisbaden seen!”
“That can only be Baddmann!” v. Mack laughs in response. “What game are you playing today? Not another woodcarver, I hope?”
“Ah no. You see before you the dissipated gentleman who enjoys nothing more than a nice dance, and a nice dance afterwards too,” Johannes grins. He gives a card to the lieutenant, who quickly salutes and brings v. Mack’s horse to the door. “Come,” Johannes continues. “Your young Margraf is the lights fantastic with some northern fraulein dancing. I will you straight to him take.”
The pair ride through the normally dark streets, but which tonight are lit for party goerers enjoying the festivities. “All right, Mack,” Baddmann says as they cross the bridge, “what’s up?”
“In a word, Stagonia.”
“Any details? We’d spotted some of their stooges nearby.”
“My Lady’s letter is sealed, I’m afraid, and probably coded for the young man alone.”
“Naturally ... and what does she say?”
“More than one plot is afoot. There’s been signs of things concerning wine, fireworks, and sharpshooters.”
“No kidnapping? Stagonia always loved to kidnap children at loose in the world.”
“She didn’t mention that, but I’d rather suppose it’s possible.”
“No known connection then ...” Baddmann falls silent, leaving v. Mack puzzled as to the meaning of his comment. Then Baddmann asks after they pass the guards on the Frankfurter side of the Main, “You’ve that fancy pistol with you? If it’s not ready, we’d better stop while you load.”