A letter, from Miss. Madeline Behrens (London) to Mr. Jack Flynn (Ur)

London, August 1925

Dear Jack,

I think that I can safely say that I would much rather have been in Mesopotamia with the dig this last weekend than have been in Wales. I suppose that almost goes without saying, after all, it was Wales. I'm still not sure how Evie bullied me into it, especially as I was supposed to be in Paris at L'Exposition, but she said she'd found something interesting that was League related so off I went.

Anyway, it got off to a wonderful start. There we were in this little country inn (called rather prophetically “The Rubicon”) when this tall gentleman arrived, dressed as if he'd just wandered in from a Jane Austen novel! He spotted what I was straight away, which gave me quite a fright and I begged him not to tell anyone. Then he started going on about not wishing to offend my “master”. Fortunately no-one else was listening, but Evie heard and got me away from him sharpish. If it hadn't have been dark I think she'd have marched me straight down the hill and put me on a train to London. I rather wish she had.

Then all merry hell broke loose – Sarah had brought Eddie and Mr. Chunky in by aeroplane, but landed in the wrong field. As they were walking back to the inn, they were attacked by what sounded like a giant dog (although later they wondered if a bear had escaped from a travelling circus). Eddie was badly injured, but thank goodness Flora was there to take care of him. There was lots of talk of werewolves, but no-one wanted to really think about that.

Rose got very fond of an oak tree in a pot and insisted on carrying it around with her for the whole evening. She's still got that conquistador in her basement you know. That just isn't quite right, somehow. Mr. Braddock proved to be very adept at finding things that weren't even lost, which gave Mr. Riley plenty of things to look at (including more hints about werewolves).

Then Evie goes and tells me she's got engaged! Can you believe it? And to someone called “Mimsy”. I mean, what kind of a name for a man is that? You could have knocked me down with a feather. She also kept saying she had a letter to read to everyone, but what with all the fighting and bleeding and nonsense, it sort of got forgotten about until Sunday (but I'll tell you about that later).

Anyway, then it comes out that the tall gentleman was actually a Roman called Lord Severus, who had a wife called Lady Antonia and they had one of those blessed spikes Cranbury has us hunting for. He'd been trapped in the valley since the Romans chased the druids out of Anglesey by the three werewolves who lived on the hill. Apparently there was some deal where the Romans stayed in the valley and the werewolves on the hill and the inn was neutral ground. But because we'd blundered in (as per usual) we'd upset the balance and Eddie was going to become a werewolf unless we helped the Lord bump them all off! Three years ago I would have said it was all fanciful gibberish, but what with you and your problem and me and mine and everything else odd that's happened, I was quite willing to believe him.

I gave up and went to bed with a headache while everyone else argued about what they should do. The Lord had already said I could help by letting him use some of the power stored in me, but I was so scared and I didn't trust him.

It wasn't much better the next morning. Eddie had healed remarkably quickly and was allegedly getting hairier (not that I looked, but I think Rose did). Oh, I forgot Benjamin, sorry, Captain Petrie! You remember when we went to see Fei Leung Tse (someone else who spotted me right off)? And it looked like Mr. Tse had bumped off that Colonel Petrie on the will with one of those walking dagger things? Well, this gentleman arrived on Friday night with a message for me from Fei Leung Tse. I don't want to think about how he knew I was there, but I don't trust him either. Anyway, this note announces that we just aren't working fast enough to do Cranbury's dirty work for him (I'm sure he's not really dead, you know) and here's a present: Benjamin Petrie. And that tiger statuette he wanted us to look for – sounds like Celia's “friend” von Stronheim has it and Mr. Tse wants us to bid for it at auction on his behalf.

Oh yes, back to Saturday. By this point people were starting to believe in the werewolf stuff, but we decided that the capable chaps should go and have a chat with the “werewolves” just to make sure we had both sides of the story. It didn't go very well based on the state of them when they got back, but that was after we went to see the herbalist, Seamus (didn't sound very Welsh to me, but never mind). Lady Antonia had said that if we didn't find something precious to Eddie that would anchor him in this world, then he'd be off like a shot to join his new pack, no doubt attacking us on the way past. She said that this herbalist would have a “calf” fat candle that would allow her to do some scrying ritual to identify this thing. I didn't like the sound of it much, but we couldn't really think of anything else useful to do.

It was all very strange and surreal sat up there on the hills in the glorious sunshine, looking out over that amazing landscape discussing ancient powers and werewolves and undying Romans locked in some sort of eternal struggle. I just knew everything was going to go wrong, but there wasn't anything we could do to stop it. The herbalist didn't even seem to mind that we were probably going to be used as the means of his destruction, which just made it all the harder to bear. He said I was troubled. He didn't know the half of it.

So Rose got this candle, but we didn't tell Lady Antonia. Rose, Mr. Riley and Dr. Lawrence toddled off to do a séance, allegedly to talk to this archaeologist chappy whose research had lead Evie here in the first place. They actually talked to Emily, Eddie's dead fiancée, who turned out to be the focus, and they bound her (and something else, but I'll tell you about that in person) into the candle so that they could control Eddie. Somewhere during this the others came back, we discussed the options and Eddie tried to kill himself. He failed because he just kept healing so quickly, but it was pretty awful.

Poor Mr. Chunky was beside himself and he wasn't very pleased when I told him just who they were talking to in the séance. I didn't tell him about the candle, but Dr. Lawrence did, despite the fact that Benjamin and Mr. Slim had expressly forbade him to do so (in terms I'm sure you'd be very familiar with). I really wish you'd been there, too – we could have done with a few more sensible types and Mr. Vorster was absent as well.

The Capables discovered what they thought was a way to cure Eddie and went back out to take a special item from each of the three werewolves. Then Mr. Chunky made them into a weapon and Rose well, blessed it, I suppose would be the best way to describe it. You had to take the item from them in human form and then use it to deliver the killing blow when they were in wolf form. There was a sickle, an arrowhead and a cloak pin, all on the end of a great long stick. By this time, I'd let Mr. Slim and Benjamin in on my secret. I felt the need for a sturdy type to know, seeing as you weren't there to look after me, and Mr. Slim is very no nonsense too, as is Captain Petrie.

I also ended up telling Mr. Chunky, because he's very reliable and I quite like him, even if he is a bit grubby at times. Someone had to keep an eye on this Lord character and I thought they'd be quite good at it.

Eddie disappeared shortly before the moon rose, which made for a pretty miserable dinner for all present. We all knew what was coming, and that didn't help the appetite either (which was a shame, because although the food was rather rustic, Mrs. Jones laid out a very respectable table).

Lord Severus had said that by using the power I have stored in me (I have to think of it as power for the moment) he could protect himself, me and one other from the werewolves during the upcoming fight. I've always felt so useless at these League shenanigans, but knowing I could be of use now was no comfort at all. Why couldn't I protect everyone? That would have been really useful. I was scared that taking one of them away (there were six apparently) would change me, that I wouldn't be me anymore. I was also scared that I'd let everyone down. Only you and Evie ever take me seriously (and Evie doesn't always), everyone else seems to think I'm some sort of joke. What if I couldn't do it? Dr. Lawrence was very nice to me about it, but it didn't help much.

The group decided that the one to be protected should be Rose, so that she could protect Eddie (by using her candle). Oh, the Prof. has a whizzy new toy that appears to detect dead souls, or at least something odd about people. Eddie, Rose and myself lit it right up (I think I blew the valves). Mr. Riley was so crestfallen when he didn't! The Prof.'s sense of timing is marvellous by the way– he turned up just in time for dinner!

So we dutifully trudged up onto the hill to see what we could do. I have to say that I don't remember much of the fight. There were lots of dark shapes jumping about, lots of yelling and swearing (and Evie telling everyone off for swearing, which was quite funny considering), and pain. If that was what it felt like for you when the demon was ripped out of you, I can quite understand why you were in such a foul temper afterwards. I thought my head was going to explode and I tried to get away, but the Lord wouldn't let go of my hand. Everything else is a bit of a blur.

When the pain stopped, I could see so many bodies lying on the ground. Rose had made Eddie run away and the other werewolves were dead. I saw Mr. Chunky lying there, horribly injured. It was a bit of a close run thing with him, but Lord Severus knew what to do (may he forgive me). Sarah was badly hurt, but Flora saved her and the others (who'd amassed a rare old collection of injuries).

We limped off down the hill and had several stiff drinks, because it turned out that we hadn't actually cured Eddie, just made sure he didn't have a pack to run with and set free a powerful Roman sorcerer who's off to London to buy a Rolls Royce Phantom I (very good taste in cars, for a Roman). Mr. Chunky is going to invest in some stout chains and build a special house for Eddie for the evenings. Rose burnt the candle, which let the spirits free, thankfully.

As for Sunday, Miss Fawcett had written the League a letter, which asked some pretty hard questions. I have written to Miss Fawcett as well, but if you see her let her know that it had the desired effect and ask her to reconsider her decision to leave. Because of everything that had happened, most of us had already pondered much of what she asked, but a few skeletons came crashing out of the cupboard. We came to a group decision that we should try to find out more about these spikes and what they do before we go hunting for any more. Once we know, we can decide whether we keep going and assemble them (the werewolves thought that they were some sort of key that had been scattered to prevent some lock from being opened) or get them to make sure no-one else puts them together.

And I told them all what I was. You should have seen Mr. Riley's face! He was very mean to me on Friday about my presence at the inn and the look of guilt was most satisfying. They look at me differently now, and whilst in some cases I'm still not sure that's a good thing, what choice did I have? I can't trust my own family, so I'll have to trust the League (some more than others). Not sure if Benjamin will be staying – I feel so guilty about that, him getting dragged into it this way, by bringing me a message.

Better go, I have the arrangements to make for my birthday ball. Please say you'll come back for it. Evie says I've possibly spent too much time in your company because I did say something a bit ripe at one point over the weekend, but its been ages since I've seen you and there are some things I just can't tell you in a letter.

She was Russian, by the way, and a grandmother. I can see her on my portrait. I had several stiff vodkas in her memory. It was the least I could do.

Yours in friendship,

Madeline Behrens.

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