The Summoning

by Robert Wingfield

  “I can’t see anything.” Felucca joined her in the window. “What was it?”

  “I thought I saw her, but it wasn’t our girl. This was a blonde, and taller. She’s gone. I must have imagined it.”

  “It couldn’t be that other bitch, the one who was supposed to die, could it?” Healey put in.

  “The predictions said she would have been finished months ago. There is no way she can still be alive... is there?” Fantasia suddenly looked doubtful.

  “I’ll go and check,” said Felucca.

  “Yes, do that. Oh what now...? Is that cars outside?”

  The ruin echoed with the sound of a loudhailer. “This is the police. You are trespassing. Come out.”

  “Damn them,” said Fantasia. “We should have dealt with the security cameras. I’m losing it, not thinking straight. Do something with this toy, and leave the explaining to me.” She thrust the gun over to Felucca, but as she did so, her finger caught the trigger and the weapon discharged. The bullet ricocheted on the floor. Healey put his hand to his ear as blood started to seep.

  “Christ’s sake...” he said. “You nearly had my head off.”

  “Enough of that,” snarled Fantasia. She shoved the smoking pistol into Felucca’s hand. “You take the stupid thing. Let me do the explaining. What did you mean by leaving the safety off? Someone could have been killed...”

  “But Ma’am, I thought...”

  “Put your weapons down and come out slowly. We have armed officers.” The voice echoed around the ruins.

  “Don’t think,” said Fantasia. She wagged her finger at Healey. “It’s Felucca’s gun, and we didn’t know anything about it, right?”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  Felucca dropped the weapon, and stared at his boss in disbelief. “You’re setting me up?”

  From the top of the hill, Jo absently watched the police arriving, and heard the shot. She saw Fantasia’s group surrendering. She was safe.

  The paper from the chapterhouse was still in her hands. She unfolded it and recognised Ankerita’s shaky writing:

  As she read, the tears formed and flowed uncontrollably. This was the final farewell:

  My dearest friend,

  Do not grieve for me. I have not gone away, but will live forever in your heart. You keep me alive; I am everywhere, in everything.

  There is a life after death. I am living it now. My new world is beautiful. I can be in all places, all at once.

  Time means nothing to me. I have all the time in Earth and Heaven. I am free, free from pain, free from the bounds of weak flesh, soaring high with the angels.

  If you need me, simply empty your mind of the drudgery and routine, and listen to my words. You will hear the messages as I pass them over.

  I see you all so clearly. I see the answers to all things. I see the good in everyone. I see everything that was and everything that is to be.

  If I need to return I will. Look for me in the new-born baby, or the sunshine on the water, or the breath of cool air in the night. I am here with you always.

  And when your own time comes, I will be waiting on the other side, to lead you onwards, as were the people who waited for me.

  Be not afraid of dying because death is not the end, simply a new beginning. The grave is nothing but a store for a shell I no longer need.

  27. Ankerita

  T

  he misshapen demon scuffed the ashes of a recent log fire, and fine dust disappeared up the large chimney of a ruined castle hall. “It appears that you’ve done a great job,” he said. He regarded the thin cloak that Ankerita was wrapped in. “Aren’t you cold?”

  “Not if I don’t want to be. I feel strange, almost as though I am not actually here. Can I brighten this place up.” She waved her hands, and the hall became intact, and almost cosy. The fire in the grate flared. Didiubas gave a grunt of pleasure. Ankerita regarded him thoughtfully. “Am I dead?”

  “Sort of. The Ritual killed you, most certainly.”

  “Then it is right that I left the note for my friend. I want her to go on and live.”

  “You had time to write a note?”

  “Everything stopped. I had time to go on a continental holiday, or even sit through an advert break on commercial television. More than enough to scribble a note.”

  “Copy one from this, you mean.” The demon produced the Book of Ghosts.

  “How...?”

  “I thought you might need it. Do you realise what it was that you left for her?”

  “It was there. It seemed appropriate.”

  “What you have given her is the actual Requiem for the Forbidden Path, the chant that frees from the fear of death, and guides towards true enlightenment. It should never have been shared.”

  “Oh dear. And now it’s free to cause... what actually?”

  The demon fidgeted. “I don’t know. Is mankind really ready for it?”

  “It’s no use without the book, so let’s not worry, shall we?” Ankerita settled on a wooden bench, and rested her elbows on the table. “And now tell, where am I?”

  “Between worlds.”

  “I guess so. But where do I go next?”

  “Wherever you like.”

  “And what are you doing here, demon? I thought you returned to whatever hell you came from. You’ve changed.”

  “I can be any shape I like,” said Didiubas. “And in these dimensions, I can be anywhere.”

  “Then why here... with me?”

  “Things are so much more fun when you are bungling around. I was bored.”

  “Bored, persecuting tormented souls in Eternity or whatever it is?” Ankerita raised an eyebrow.

  “Oh, you know,” said the demon, “Same old, same old. One has to branch out.”

  “That is ‘why’; I asked ‘how’ you returned.”

  The demon looked embarrassed, which was no mean feat on a face like his. “You performed The Summoning. I simply joined the queue on what we like to call ‘The Forgotten Path’. The Summoning has not been attempted, since all knowledge of it was scattered.”

  “A queue. You mean there are more of you? But surely they have all gone?”

  “Not all.” The demon gave his trademark snigger. “A few of my associates might have sneaked through with me.”

  “That’s not good.”

  “Not for mankind, no.”

  “Did you have anything to do with it?” Ankerita tried to read the expression. The demon fidgeted under her stare.

  “Might have. One has to keep one’s hand in.”

  “Oh Lord.”

  “While I’m confessing,” said Didiubas, “I suppose I should apologise for setting that gun off.”

  “Which gun?”

  “That one your friend, Fantasia, was handing over to her minion. If I hadn’t managed to release the safety, and tweak the trigger, she might have still been free.”

  “You actually did me a favour?”

  “...or it could have been an accident. That aside—” the demon quickly changed the subject, “—and all things considered, you got a reasonable result with the ritual. Better than Myrddin, and his previous wallowing, and he ended up wet nursing a bunch of psychos.”

  “One does one’s best,” said Ankerita modestly.

  “Not perfect, mind,” Didiubas rolled about in the burning embers, “otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”

  “Oh, not perfect. So what did I get wrong?”

  “That would be telling, wouldn’t it? You did however succeed in unlocking the Path to Enlightenment, in your own mind and in your friend’s.” He playfully threw a handful of burnt embers at her.

  “I suppose I have.” The girl grinned. “It was all so obvious once I understood the words in the Book.”

  “It did the trick. Jo is healthy again. It genuinely was not her time. I see her doing great things for the world... which I find oddly irritating.”

  “More than I could do
,” said Ankerita. “I’m only a slip of a girl from history, with no tie to that world.” She batted her eyelashes at the demon.

  “Each to his own,” he said. “My skills are in causing mayhem; yours are to the arcane, and hers...”

  “We shall see,” said Ankerita.

  “Are you leaving this waypoint, or staying?”

  “I still have a job to do.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “Genet. I promised I would free her. What better place to start from, than on, I presume, the same plane as she.”

  “You are actually going to dig the witch up again?”

  “Enchantress, yes, and I hope there won’t be too much digging.” Ankerita looked wistfully at her damaged nails. “Death didn’t fix those. Looks like I need a manicure.”

  “You leave as you are. Don’t expect eternal youth in these dimensions.”

  “But I am young, and now, I only have to find the link to Kathartirion. She must have been returned there.”

  “Then you are planning to stay.” The demon gave a sigh. “What a waste. You know that you can walk into any other of the states of existence? Be reborn in the old world if you wish?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You have opened doors between Life and what might be called Heaven and Hell, and all the realms in-between.” Didiubas shivered. “You scare the crap out of me, and I see no reason why any other dominions will be different.”

  “Sounds fun.” Ankerita grinned again. “You’d better keep on my good side, if you are saying that I’ve got the whole eternity of Creation to play about in?”

  “The whole Eternity.” The demon shuddered.

  “I think you and I are going to have some fun.”

  Ends

  but our heroine returns in

  ‘Strangers with the Eyes of Men’

  And if you haven’t read the first in the series, you’ve missed ‘Ankerita, Seasons out of Time’

  Background

  Some explanations of the concepts covered in the story.

  Anchorhold

  A room in an abbey, usually built on to the south side to keep it as warm as possible. There would be an opening into the church so that the anchorite could view the services and another to the outside world for supplies and consultations. There is one original anchorhold which can be seen: All Saints Church, Kings Lynn.

  Anchorites

  Religious hermits, usually restricted to their anchorhold and provided with food and supplies from outside, in exchange for which they would offer wisdom and blessings. There were many other hermits of course, but the anchorites were effectively prisoners.

  Famous anchorites, include our own Ankerita Leighton-Mynde, Saint Anthony of Alexandria and Julian of Norwich.

  Ankerita Family Tree

  Archbishop of York

  Cardinal Wolsey’s original title. When he fell out of favour with Henry VIII, he returned to his original job in York, but was then summoned to court to stand trial for high treason (the king’s stock excuse for lopping the heads off people who disagreed with him). On the way to London with his chaplain, Edmund Bonner (the future Bishop of London), he died at Leicester Abbey, of ‘natural causes’. We know otherwise.

  Auras

  Using the techniques practised by Ankerita, you can see your own aura... as long as your mirror is not haunted—use a new one to be on the safe side. With experience, you may see those of others. Usefulness? Early diagnosis of disease is one of the main benefits, in addition to possibly identifying untrustworthy people. The subject is a whole study by itself, and there are many free resources on the Web to help you to interpret what you are seeing.

  Cousin

  Ankerita uses the term ‘Cousin’. She is not attracted to Wesley, so this is the excuse they are related—they are so distant that it’s not a valid argument, but ‘Cousin’ was a term for any relative, or close friend for that matter. She is being ambiguous with him.

  Dissolution of the Monasteries

  As a result of Henry VIII falling out with Rome over his divorce from Katherine of Aragon, he took charge of the English church. The monasteries were all Catholic, and he used that opportunity to plunder their wealth for his own treasury, and funding war with France. The process went through from 1536-1544 and was carried out under Thomas Cromwell’s orders by Commissioners, including Richard ‘Layton’ and Sir Anthony Wingfield, who was specifically present at the sack of the Abbey at Bury St Edmunds in 1539.

  Suppression proceeded in a number of stages, and resistance was put down, sometimes brutally, along with the destruction of religious artefacts and relics. Records are sketchy as to the fate of the monks, but where recorded, it seems they were paid off with pensions. However, dousing at various ruined sites does suggest that some were murdered as they tried to resist.

  Franciscan Order

  Augustinian friars were known as canons, though they addressed each other as ‘Brother’. They typically wore a black robe over a white habit. The Augustinian order of the abbey was firmly established, and sometimes lost sight of their original ideals, contributing to their eventual downfall. The Franciscan order adopted by our Francis, was formed in 1209 when St. Francis obtained an unwritten consent from Pope Innocent III of the simple rules of piety and poverty. St Clare (also of Assisi, and knew Francis very well) was impressed, and in 1212 set up the ‘Poor Clares’, nuns following the same rules.

  The Capuchin offshoot was formed in 1520 when Friar Matteo da Bascio saw that the Franciscan Order had drifted away from their original tenets, and wanted to revive the old ideals. The ‘cappuccio’ or hood, was the mark of a hermit in that region. The hood became white over the brown Franciscan robes to distinguish them from the conventional Franciscans, and has given its name to a species of monkey and your favourite variation of coffee.

  The Franciscans were usually mendicants, or wandering monks, with no fixed base, who survived off the charity of the people they performed services and rites for. They usually were unattached to permanent buildings. In contrast, the Poor Clares had to have some security, and built convents. Denny Abbey in Cambridgeshire is one of few still standing.

  St Francis is the Patron Saint of Italy, animals and the natural environment, and because of his poverty, also should be the Patron Saint of Independent Authors. He died, aged about 45, on 3rd October 1226, and for his reforms and work was canonised 16th July 1228 by Pope Gregory IX.

  Hooded Figure

  This symbol has been a bogeyman throughout the centuries - from the druids, through Robin Hood, highwaymen and film bandits, the Ku Klux Clan, and up as far as the modern day ‘hoodies’. Hiding the face is usually associated with dishonesty. Here, Francis is a genuine monk, originally of the Augustinian Order. Because of his disguise as a Capuchin, Francis retains the habit of that order after his ‘death’.

  London Bridge

  The most congested thoroughfare, and earliest example of gridlock in the world, so the concept of driving on the left was introduced to help traffic flow. You could also use your right arm to swipe at (or defend against) people coming the other way, perhaps why others now drive on the right.

  Meditation

  The ‘so-hum’ method that Ankerita uses is a well-known way of entering a relaxed state of meditation, and sometimes picking up on messages from the other worlds.

  Scrying

  Crystal ball gazing was in use before the first century, to see the future and omens. In reality, it is a way of putting the user into a state of meditative trance, in order that messages from those who have passed on, or otherwise, can be more easily identified. Ankerita’s skill is aided by her already tentative grip on the modern world, and is put to good use.

  Spirit Guides

  It is widely accepted that we all have these entities trying to support us. Most are of good intention, but occasionally, one of the released demons takes over, and we get what we would term an evil person. Most people don’t li
sten to their guides, but think on this when you are about to do something you know is wrong, and you get a strange tingle down your spine. It is a warning that you are going to be dangerous, stupid or mean, and should be heeded.

  Thirteen Treasures?

  The thirteen treasures of Britain as detailed in Welsh legends were thought to be hidden in the north of England. As you have seen, although there are thirteen listed, it was only necessary to locate five of them. It seems that some can be doubled up for our modern understanding, but here is a brief summary from the legends:

  It is said that the Sword of Rhydderch Hael would burst into flame if drawn by a nobleman. Not an easy treasure to manage, but here, it seems that Ankerita’s rondel is the recent manifestation of this artefact, and is linking Real and Spirit worlds. It has been combined with the Knife of Llawfrodedd Farchog, which, it is said, would butcher meat for twenty-four men to eat at table. Ankerita never discovered this property, but it appears that the rondel would cut an evil person, the more evil, the more deadly the cut. It would be harmless to one of pure mind, which is how Ankerita survived Fantasia’s blow on the sacrificial slab.