From Col. Edward Mustard’s Correspondence File
17: Colonel Mustard on Turks in the Lands of Dust
London
1st December 1768
Dear Rao
I write in haste but thought I’d just drop you a Line to let you know what I’ve been up to of late. Doubtless you will be little amazed to discover that it regards Arcane Gates, Human Sacrifice and Peril to the Realm. Perhaps I can titillate your Interest just a little by mentioning a Regiment of Janissaries in the Lands of Dust.
I was asked to look into a Matter by of all Persons Mrs Midgely my esteemed Landlady who was worried about a Friend. I will not trouble you with the Details but her Friend was attending Gatherings in the East End on the Night of the Full Moon presided over by a Fire-eating Non-Conformist Preacher and seemed much changed as a Result. My Interest was further piqued when I discovered that Riding Officer Harden was looking into the mysterious Disappearance of a Number of Fugitives from Justice in that very same Area of London.
Together with Tonkins, Elmhill and the Dogs, we attended the next Meeting. The Preacher, a burly, bearded Cove who looked more like Sailor than a Man of GOD — even a non-Conformist — led a Procession of gullible Idiots to one Compton Alley near Smithfields. He was accompanied by a Pair of Trumpeters, who seemed to me to be Invested with some manner of Power and a Group of Fellows who it seemed were to be transported through a Gate into some kind of Heaven. According to Harden and Elmhill some of them were known Villains. Others appeared True Believers. We sneaked into the Alley, ahead of the Crowd and were thus transported — when the Gate opened — into a familiar Grey Desert.
There we saw a Band of Dog-Headed Men awaiting those coming through. When it became apparent that they were intent on sacrificing the “Worshippers” I decided to intervene. After a sharp Engagement the Dog-Heads were all down and Dust, save for one who fled. However, with the unmistakable Crack of a well-timed volley of muskets he too dissolved into Dust.
We cast our Gaze towards the Muskets and saw a Squad of what were unmistakably Janissaries standing on a Hill above us, reloading, with more coming over the Rise. I called for a Parley, which was granted and a chained Wretch was dragged forth to translate. It is much to my Regret that I did not at first recognise the Interpreter as Faroush al Farouf who looked the other way to allow you and I and Blunt to escape the Clutches of the Sultan when Mainborough, Wright and Maxwell were taken. The Parley was Inconclusive but the Turks withdrew behind the Hill. Faroush warned me through a Gloss on his Translation that they planned Treachery. As he was dragged away I asked what I could do for him and he said “Find Maxwell”.
Returning through the Gate we found ourselves in the Midst of what Harden described as a Public Order Event. However, most of the Mob were more curious than hostile and when Tonkins grabbed the ranting Preacher by the Beard and delivered his Signature One-Punch to stop his Blather they dispersed readily enough.
We returned to Bow Street Magistrate’s Court with three Prisoners: the Preacher; one of the Trumpeters (the other having fled through the Gate as it closed); an Irish Felon named O’Flaherty or some such whom we had rescued from the Knife of the Dog-Headed Priest but who was like to hang instead, he being on Harden’s List.
At Bow Street we interrogated them each in Turn in front of a Magistrate and a Clerk. O’Flaherty, hoping to see his Sentence commuted to Transportation, was as helpful as he could be. It seems that Underworld Contacts had told him of a Route by which he might be Transported out of London, by a Means that could not be followed, to a Place of Safety and Prosperity. (It did occur to me that all these felonious Coves must be even more gullible than those who entered the Gate as a Test of Faith in the Hope of Being Transported straight to a Godly Heaven). The tastiest Morsel of Information from him was that he had paid his Fee to a Man called Belvedere.
The Preacher was a deluded Fool who it seems had had a brush with the Lands of Dust during the Midsummer Affair (and could still remember London afire). I suspect that he may have been caught up in your Banish for he returned by floating through the Skies to the City. Anyhap, he had parsed this Experience into some Religious Revelation. He knew little of the two Trumpeters, but considered them a Godsend. It was they who showed him the Gate in the Backstreets of the East End that opened at the Full Moon. He had officiated at several Public Gatherings (presumably one a month since August) at which Processions of the Faithful (liberally sprinkled with Fugitives from the Law) would try their luck at the direct route to Heaven. It was plain to see that he was Someone’s Useful Idiot. He even seemed Unaware that some of his Flock were paying to go through the Gate.
To my Eye (for I had had available throughout my Enochian Truesight) the Trumpeter was possessed by a Spirit. He was cocky, confident and seemed convinced that there would be no serious Consequence to his Capture. He was, however, very easy to taunt into revealing a great Deal of Information by the simple Expedient of scoffing at his Revelations and belittling his Masters. Unfortunately, so enraged did he become that it appears that his Host suffered an Apoplexy and expired. This left the Spirit free to invade another Host.
While we had availed ourselves of Wards, the Magistrate and the Clerk were Unprotected. It immediately attacked the Magistrate. With no Remedy Immediately to Hand, I thought it best to vacate the Room and lock the Magistrate and the Spirit within while we formulated a Plan. Harden man-handled the little Clerk out, followed by myself and Elmhill. Tonkins, however, stayed and managed to overpower the Magistrate. I suspect he may have taken some Pleasure in belabouring the poor Officer of the Law about the Head whenever he seemed to be showing Signs of Consciousness. This cruel but necessary Treatment went on for about an Hour.
Meanwhile I saw nothing for it but to repurpose my Truesight Engine as a Compel. This required an Extemporised Cast — a Risky Procedure as you well know — but a necessary one for I had no such Component about my Person and Time was Pressing. As it was, after an Hour of Chanting, I successfully cast the Compel, re-entered the Room, ordered the Spirit out of the Magistrate, demanded it reveal its name (which it did) and re-commenced the Interrogation.
Thereafter Matters proceeded more smoothly, for so Compelled the Entity could not resist my Questions. In summary we discovered the following:
- The Trumpeter served the Annunaki, potent Beings who he sometimes referred to as Judges and who he claimed were the original Creators of the World.
- The Annunaki had been banished by the Decan Lords but seek to return.
- The Annunaki are the Masters of the Dog-Headed Men, that they can make from the Dust, but have other Servants (including, one presumes, the Trumpeter).
- They are Active amongst the Turks but he hinted at Factions within the Annunaki and a Competition to be Top Dog.
- Belvedere is an important Man in our World (though not so much that anyone in our Party had heard of him), who fancies himself a Satan-ist. The Spirit considered him but a useful Idiot like the Preacher.
I daresay we were running out of useful Questions to ask (and indeed my Compel had a time limit). However, I made the Error of asking him to name the Annunaki. Uttering but a Syllable of the first Name seems to have entirely unmade him, and indeed unleashed such a Wave of Phlogiston that even those of us who were Warded were rendered insensible briefly. Still, we had discovered much.
Naturally, our first Instinct was to take Council with the Ben Ezra to see if He knew ought of the Annunaki. Unfortunately, it seems that the venerable Hebrew has left Town leaving no forwarding Address.
I then went to Court at Kew with Elmhill where the King invited me to a Privy Audience in the Pagoda. He showed me my own Report, written around mid-summer. I showed Him my Warrant with his Seal and Signature. It seemed to me that He reluctantly accepted the Truth of my Words though He remembers Naught. I told Him of the Turks in the Land of Dust, which plainly He found to be troubling News. He asked me to obtain Proof (He was a little Unspecific as to exactly of what) that he might lay before His Advisors and Parliament that they Permit Him to Act and think Him not Mad. He allowed me to keep my Warrant.
We also made the acquaintance at Kew of Lord Foppingham who was most Gracious to us. He knew nothing of the current Whereabouts of ben Ezra, but thought that we could find a Route to him were we to call upon Foppingham in his Mansion in the West Country. He suggested next Midsummer as an Auspicious Time.
So I think our next Moves must be:
- Find (or Summon) Maxwell as recommended by Faroush al Farouf.
- Identify and deal with Belvedere (he may or may not be a Sideshow but clearly needs a Reckoning for the Sake of the Realm).
- Obtain the Proof that the King requires.
We also obtained a curious object taken from one of the Dog-Headed Men which is plainly magical that you might want to take a Look at before I Experiment. It also occurs to me that we have not examined very closely the Trumpet that we also captured.
I must go now and attend to other Matters.
Yours etc.
Edward Mustard, Col.