<span style="font-style: italic">The eighth Austrian guard was knocked unconscious. He was attacked, but apparently left unharmed. Herr Hauptman Klein of the Kaiserlich und Königlich Guards would be able to fill in blanks of the attack, hopefully.</span><br/><br/><a class="postlink" href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OloXRhesab0">The Barber of Seville Overture</a><br/>Von Sachsen, Comte de Burgundy spent the evening listening to a string quartet playing at an open air cafe below his Roman flat. The music was soothing. They played Vivaldi, and Monteverdi. Max enjoyed listening to the Barber of Seville Overture. He welcomed the music like a long lost friend. It was not every night he could listen to such untethered music while he relaxed in his quarters.<br/><br/>In the morning, the haunting melodies cluttered his brain as they rode in the carriage from Rome to Prague. It would take eight days to reach the Bohemian capital; a city plagued by rampant crime and disease. This was a filthy place, one of the armpits of Europe. Fortunately for the pair of  Vampire Hunters, they were both immune to whatever viral infections that may be contracted in the cesspool.<br/><br/>The carriage arrived at the Questenberk Hotel, also known as the Hotel Prague. The two foreigners alighted from their conveyance and made their way inside. The elegance of this 17th century Hotel was not lost on Maximilien. He was accustomed to being treated as a royal. Although he never felt entitled to be treated in such manner, he appreciated it when it happened. The gold fixtures and silk overlays as well as the marble staircase were all vivacious trappings much to Max's apetite.<br/><br/>They spent one night at the Prague Hotel and headed to St. Vitus' Cathedral in the morning in search of Captain Klein. Since the hotel was under half a mile to the Cathedral, Maximlien suggested it would be best to walk. This would give them an opportunity to gauge the tenor of the populace; possibly reconnoiter the butcher shop owned by Monsieur Prochazka.<br/><br/>At breakfast, Max was quiet. He thought about what they knew and what questions he would want to ask Herr Hauptmann Klein. He chewed on the Bohemian pastry and sipped at the coffee. It was a rich blend with a hint of hickory. It gave the coffee a distinguished flavor, one he could recognize again, if needed.<br/><br/>To a passing waiter, "perdon monsieur," Maximlien asked. "Where ever did your fine establishment secure such a delicious coffee."<br/><br/>The waiter looked at von Sachsen, at Francesca Romano and then back to Comte von Sachsen. He apparently recognized him as French, "Monsieur, this coffee was grown in the Ottoman Empire?"<br/><br/>Taken a bit surprised, "Really!? This coffee is Turkish?"<br/><br/>"Oui, monsieur," the waiter responded with grace and dignity.<br/><br/>"I have tasted Turkish coffee. This is so much richer; a fine bold flavor." Max looked up at the waiter after sipping the coffee. "It is so different."<br/><br/>"Monsieur, we grind the coffee with hickory and use less coffee than the Turks in the Ottoman Empire do. We believe the flavor is enhanced in this manner."<br/><br/>"Merci beau coup," Max said in finality. He then turned to Francesca, "maybe it is time we head over to the Czech castle and the cathedral?"