Time Who Brings All to Doom
The notes continue directly from the hour last recorded, the Collective yet below ground and occupied with matters more prosaic than spectral. The Editor offers no comment on what was found there, save that its provenance was troubling, and its implications remain unresolved.
Our intrepid adventurers decided, quite sensibly, that a military sweep of the underground chambers was in order, and His Lordship promptly organised one with Havildar Satam; the valiant Tomlinson and the doughty C.C.C. bringing up the rear. There were indeed some reprobates lurking in the rooms, but these were swiftly dispatched, with only slight cuts and grazes to the loyal sepoys.
A veritable trove of artefacts, papers and other esoterica were discovered — perhaps the most distressing of which indicated British involvement with this most blasphemous and heinous of cults. His Lordship was so moved that he had to cover the face of a lithograph of the Queen Empress for shame.
A crate of Snider-Enfields and ammunition was also discovered, clearly diverted from the Bombay Magazine to the cult. The implications of this are as yet unfathomable, but far from encouraging. The Sniders were handed out to all unarmed members of the company. There was nothing else for it but to throw the remainder into the pool in the middle of the sahn — the damage to Raj property understandable in present circumstances.
The Professor packaged and prepared the artefacts and books for transportation under conditions that were far from ideal, rightly feeling they would need to be studied at length and leisure and not assessed in the field — particularly a field that was so clearly adverse.
The Angrezi-Sahibs were able to partake of the rather dry goat curry prepared by Ravi, while the Hindoo members of the party had to make do with what they had, mainly oat biscuits left over from the march from Bombay — their religion preventing them from sharing food with out-castes. No matter, the village within a day's march from their current location would no doubt offer chapatis, pakoras, pilau and other rustic fare. 'Let's hope the villagers are friendly,' His Lordship was heard to mutter ominously.
The Havildar took the liberty of requesting a rescue mission for Leighton-Sahib, 'he is a great hero of the regiment, Sahib.' His Lordship assured the Havildar that there would indeed be a rescue mission sent to the bungalow, but only once support, safety and sustenance had been obtained. The sepoys would need to abide by the unbounded wisdom of the West.
A plan, worthy of the most accomplished players of the Great Game, was contrived to get messages back to both Colonel Radclyffe and Spencer. Two sepoys, each with two copies of a letter — one to the Colonel-Sahib, and one to Spencer — would travel separately to Bombay. It was hoped by this plan that one of them would get through, and either Spencer or the Colonel would respond appropriately. One can only hope that the letter would reach the Colonel, as it is hard to imagine the difficulty His Lordship's butler might have in accessing the appropriate level of authority to rouse the sleeping lion of the British Raj without raising the wrong sort of eyebrows.
But, as is often the case, events overtook the best laid plans. On returning above ground, and preparing to leave this cultist hotbed, a double-flash of light was witnessed coming from the East. A light so bright that His Lordship was blinded by it — one can only hope temporarily — a light so searing that Archie and Caractacus could see the bones of their hands through their fingers. There followed the sound of a vast shotgun, and then a low, continuous roar.
And then they saw it — a rising ball of smoke and flame, something more vast than anything the Fenian dynamitards could hope to achieve, as if the entire Bombay Magazine had been detonated. Perhaps that is exactly what happened? Although, assuming our heroes' sense of direction had not completely deserted them, the explosion came from the plains to the East — beyond the village they hoped would offer some sort of sanctuary.
Will this shocking turn of events change our heroes' plans? How will they respond? And what does any of this signify? One can only wonder, and in the true spirit of Empire, maintain a stiffened upper-lip while doing so.
The session closed shortly before dawn, Wednesday, the 15th of November, 1893. Of Captain Leighton, Colonel Montgomery, and the valet Akshan, nothing was yet known.