The Devil in Green

by Mark Chadbourn

  ‘What’s the target?’ Gardener said.

  ‘You’ve seen it before,’ Blaine replied, ‘on the night we were first attacked … when you were on your field operation—’

  ‘The Fabulous Beast.’ There was a note of disbelief in Mallory’s exclamation that drew a suspicious glance from Blaine.

  ‘The flying creature—’

  ‘How can we hit something like that?’ Mallory said. ‘It’s huge … it shoots fire … Anyway, it’s not been seen since we were on the Plain. What makes you think it’ll be here tonight?’

  ‘It’ll be here.’ Blaine had grown cold at Mallory’s questioning of his big plan and turned his attention to Gardener. ‘Yes, it is a big bastard, but we’ve got the capability to down it. And we’ll be helped by the power of the Lord protecting us - it won’t be able to see us. It will be able to strike, but only at random.’

  ‘Where are the Blues?’ Mallory asked.

  ‘They’ll be here,’ Blaine said, without looking at him. ‘Now, no defeatism and we will win the day.’ His comment was clearly aimed at Mallory. ‘Captain Hipgrave will be giving direct orders during the attack. Be prepared to respond.’ He nodded to them curtly and moved on.

  Mallory had conflicting emotions; like the others, he felt good at being able to strike any blow, but there was something about the Fabulous Beast that he admired, the sense of wonder and magic it carried on its wings. It seemed clearly wrong to him to do harm to such a remarkable creature.

  Gardener bore a sly smile; Daniels rubbed his hands gleefully. Only Miller showed a hint of being unsure. Mallory let his hands drop to his sides, then yanked them away; the hilt of his sword was almost too hot to touch. He thought of the dragons engraved there, of Rhiannon’s talk of a Brotherhood of Dragons, and wondered if there was some overt link with the Fabulous Beast.

  The tension increased a notch as the weapons were handed out. Most got some form of rifle - an Armalite - but one group was handed a cumbersome and dated bazooka. ‘That should give the bastard a sting,’ Gardener said gruffly.

  ‘You really think this is enough?’ Mallory said, examining the rifle, which seemed flimsy compared to what they were up against.

  ‘If we’re all firing at once,’ Miller said. ‘You know … someone will hit it.’

  ‘It looked as if it had some kind of plating to me,’ Mallory said. ‘The scales gleamed as though they were made of metal.’ But the others were too caught up in the moment to hear his doubts.

  The only reply came from Gardener. ‘Don’t underestimate Blaine.’ And Mallory accepted the truth of that.

  They spent the next half-hour craning their necks to examine all quarters of the night sky while trying to guess from which direction it would come; Mallory still couldn’t understand how Blaine knew it would be coming. They were interrupted by Miller who said, ‘Gosh! Look at that.’

  The Blues had emerged on to a large platform about a hundred feet away. They were as perfectly drilled as ever, falling into formation with a fluid ease, adopting postures that made Mallory think of Action Man dolls as they faced the eastern sky. Curiously, he noted that they appeared to be guarding something at the centre of their circle, but it was impossible to make out what it was.

  A small team broke off and began to unpack crates on a separate flat section. They worked fast and diligently, gradually assembling the contents. The other knights gaped in awe as it took shape. ‘Bloody hell, that’s a big bloody gun,’ Gardener said. Though still old-fashioned, the two-wheeled gun looked as if it could easily bring down a jet. Mallory’s heart sank once more.

  Silence fell across the rooftop. With the gun complete, everyone waited. Mallory kept his attention on the main group of the elite cadre. Two knights in the centre of the circle ducked down and a second later a blue incandescence flooded into the air like a searchlight.

  ‘What in heaven’s name is that?’ Daniels said.

  Nobody could guess, but the quality of the light reminded Mallory of the crackling energy that had formed a barrier between this world and the other deep in the catacombs. Instinctively, they all knew what it represented, though: a beacon. They turned to face the east, following the gaze of the Blues.

  So heavy was the expectation, it seemed as if they waited an age, though it couldn’t have been very long at all. The first burst of light in the distant sky raised a cry of exclamation in several quarters. Some pointed, others yelled for everyone to be prepared. It was coming.

  Mallory glanced back at the Blues. ‘What are they doing?’ he said. ‘Are they calling it somehow? What have they got up there?’

  But everyone else’s attention was fixed on the approaching firestorm. Although they couldn’t yet see the beast, a column of flame would erupt down on to the landscape from time to time, followed by a period of stillness, then more flame, much closer. The advance was eerie; all conversation faded away. No one could tear their eyes from the trail of conflagration stretching into the distance.

  Somewhere near Old Sarum, trees were burning.

  ‘Nearly here,’ Gardener said.

  Hands closed tightly around rifles; they felt even more insubstantial. The roar of flame sounded like a blast furnace. A house near the ring road exploded in a shower of tiles and masonry. Echoes of the destruction boomed back and forth amongst the high buildings of the city; falling bricks rattled on rooftops, crashing through some. Smoke swept in along the streets like a river fog; they could all taste it on the wind.

  ‘It looks like hell,’ Miller whispered.

  Mallory thought he could see the metallic glimmer of scales, red, gold and green, in the firelight. The heavy, rhythmic beating of leather wings filled the air.

  Hipgrave appeared with one foot balanced on either side of the roof ridge. A hand shielded his eyes as he watched the Beast’s progress. ‘Raise your weapons,’ he shouted. Across the roof, rifles went up as one.

  Mallory had the strange feeling that he was watching the red light of a plane flying across the sky until he realised it was the beast’s eye. It moved directly towards them. Although he knew it couldn’t see them, he felt distinctly unnerved by its flight path, as if it sensed exactly where they were.

  Another column of flame burst from its mouth, this time illuminating the creature clearly for the first time. Its body undulated with serpentine grace, driven forwards by the power of the enormous bat-wings that beat deceptively slowly. The scales covered most of the body, more colourful on the under-surface, darker near the top. A gnarled, bony ridge like the fin of some dinosaur ran along the length of its back. A corresponding bone structure protruded in strange, twisted horns from its head, some small, some larger. A tail lashed the air behind it. The blazing illumination of the flames cast bizarre shadows across its features, giving it a demonic appearance that brought a chill to the assembled knights.

  ‘Take aim,’ Hipgrave barked.

  The column of fire destroyed the Woolworth’s building on the High Street. The fire washed and backwashed as if it was liquid; almost, Mallory thought, as if it was alive. Glass exploded out in glittering shards. The bricks flowed like water under the intense heat. Yet it didn’t spread to the adjoining buildings. Instead, it sucked into a tight core that was too bright to stare at; the glow illuminated all of the surrounding streets as if it were daylight.

  ‘Fire!’ Hipgrave yelled.

  The volley of shots was deafening. Some flew harmlessly out over the rooftops, but several struck the target. Mallory secretly hoped the scales were as hard as they appeared, but he was quickly disappointed. The Beast writhed in pain as the shots rattled into it. With a deft twist, it performed a rapid manoeuvre and soared straight up, too high for their ammunition to reach. But once there, it twisted and rolled in the high winds in some discomfort.

  ‘That was good,’ Hipgrave shouted. ‘Get set for when it comes back down.’

  ‘What if it stays up there?’ Mallory said. ‘What if it turns back?’

  He saw Blaine away to one side, g
rinning triumphantly. He looked as though he wasn’t expecting any retreat from the Beast at all.

  Just as Hipgrave said, it did one final roll and swooped back down, directly overhead. They all raised their weapons and fired randomly, more out of panic than anything. It was still too high for most of the bullets to reach it.

  ‘Wait for the order!’ Hipgrave bellowed.

  The Beast came down with the speed of a jet fighter, and it didn’t appear to be letting up. The thought ran through all of them at the same time: it was going to smash into them, destroy them and the hated cathedral in a suicide attack. Several knights threw themselves flat and covered their heads.

  ‘Get set!’ Hipgrave ordered. ‘Fire!’

  Another volley of shots burst skyward. This time Mallory heard numerous tiny clangs as some were deflected by the scales, but others pierced their target. The beast writhed in the air, still driving down fast.

  ‘Oh, God!’ Miller mewled.

  Mallory saw those gleaming red eyes bearing down on him and sensed something numinous lying just behind them. While the others dived for cover, he remained standing, strangely calm, locked into their depths.

  At the last moment, when it was about to pile straight into the cathedral, it appeared to sense what lay below and twisted into a horizontal flight that rushed mere feet over them. Mallory was buffeted by turbulence and fought to remain standing. The beating of the wings was deafening, the air filled with the foundry smell of the beast.

  As the knights climbed to their feet - some of whose who had cried out now sheepish and furtive - Miller muttered, ‘And now it’s raining.’

  Mallory checked the wetness on the back of his hand. ‘Not raining. Blood.’ His skin was flecked with droplets of a dark liquid that didn’t have the consistency of human blood. There was an odd texture to it, like oil, and he was surprised to feel a sense of wellbeing from its contact. It remained for a second or two, then faded away as mysteriously as it had come.

  ‘At least we’ve hurt the bastard,’ Gardener grunted. ‘Blaine was right - they’re not as big and powerful as we thought.’

  ‘Flesh wounds,’ Daniels said. ‘We’ve got a long way to go yet. Look at it.’

  The Beast swooped and rolled on the currents above the city, filled with grace and power; it was a sight that brought awe to all of them, despite themselves.

  ‘I’m not sure about this,’ Mallory said, marvelling at the Beast’s flight.

  Gardener flashed him a suspicious glance. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘It’s not right to loll it. What good would that do?’

  ‘Send a message,’ Gardener said.

  ‘Is that a good enough reason for destroying a living thing?’

  ‘Steady on, Mallory. You’re starting to sound like me.’ Miller grinned at him, then turned to the others. ‘He’s right, I think. Look at it - it’s an amazing creature. It would be like shooting a horse or something.’

  ‘Don’t start going down that road,’ Gardener growled. ‘Bloody defeatists. Daniels, what do you think?’

  Daniels was checking his gun over. ‘I’m just following orders.’

  ‘That’s why we have leaders,’ Gardener continued. ‘To sort out what’s right and wrong so we can be free to get down to business.’

  ‘I can’t begin to tell you how so wrong that line of thinking is,’ Mallory said sharply. He was interrupted by Hipgrave ordering them to prepare for another attack. Gardener mumbled something under his breath that sounded very much like an insult.

  The Fabulous Beast performed an immaculate loop over the city and prepared for another attack. Mallory glanced over at the Blues. The big gun still hadn’t been used, though the crew aiming it was poised. The Beast had so far proved too fast and agile, but Blaine’s tactics were clear: he would wait to give the order until the Beast was slowed by its wounds.

  The creature skimmed the rooftops, eyes blazing, smoke streaming from its mouth and nose. The sight was so terrifying, Mallory saw the faces around him go rigid. Yet he didn’t feel that what he saw there was driven by hatred of humanity, or hunger, or some nebulous Christian concept of Evil. It was something primal, but also oddly innocent.

  The guns on every side were levelled at it. They had seemed pathetic before, but now he was not so sure: a thousand tiny blows were as good as one big one.

  Go away, Mallory prayed silently. Leave, before you’re hurt. He surprised himself with the notion.

  He raised his gun with the others, but when the order came he didn’t pull the trigger. What was the reason for his odd empathy with the creature? The sound of gunfire made his ears ache. The creature snapped out of its flight path. Every hit made his insides knot.

  When it looped around to strike again, its movements were noticeably slower. The wings were beating more heavily and there was a perceivable wobble in its lithe undulations.

  ‘This is it,’ Gardener said.

  Why doesn’t it use its fire? Mallory thought. Even if the site was protected, it couldn’t possibly know that.

  The Beast came in low over the rooftops once again. This time, Hipgrave looked to Blaine before telling them to hold their fire. The Blues manning the big gun moved quickly, tracking the Beast’s trajectory.

  Mallory’s heart took a dip. His gun slipped from his fingers, dropping to the roof with a clatter.

  The retort of the big gun boomed across the cathedral compound. The Fabulous Beast was frozen in Mallory’s mind just beyond the cathedral walls, its red eyes glowing with a fierce, alien intelligence; not even the explosion of the gun going off could force him to tear his gaze from it. Everyone around was caught in states of jubilation and shock.

  And then it all erupted in a chaotic jumble of images. The Fabulous Beast was hit square on. There was an explosion; blue light flashed everywhere. Through his ringing ears, Mallory thought he could hear a sound like the wind in the mountains, and then the Beast was thrown back and up. It came down quickly, its wings unmoving, its eyes no longer burning.

  It hit the shopping arcade hard, flattening buildings, raising a tremendous cloud of billowing dust. It skidded for a way, bringing down more shops, before coming to rest. The night was filled with the sound of tumbling masonry.

  ‘They did it,’ Daniels said in blank disbelief. ‘They killed it.’

  A loud cheer rose up from the knights. The Fabulous Beast was obscured by the buildings all around, but there was no doubt that Daniels was right. Mallory turned away, desperately troubled and shocked, not knowing why he felt that way.

  Across the roof, the blue beacon winked out as the elite knights ended whatever they had set in motion and then quickly made their way back into the cathedral.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  deep calleth unto deep

  ‘Perhaps death is life and in the other world life is thought of as death.’

  - Euripides

  During the ‘great silence’ that followed compline, when the brethren retired to their cells, there was only the raucous talk of the knights and guards echoing through the vast, empty spaces. But as the brothers emerged at midnight for the night office, it was obvious word had circulated quickly: spirits were high and chatter was animated. The might of God had once more been evidenced; a blow had been struck against the Devil.

  Mallory was uncharacteristically dismal. He felt out of sorts, unable to divine his own feelings, detached from his fellow knights. Only Miller appeared to hold some doubts, but Mallory certainly couldn’t talk to him. All he knew was that something felt intuitively wrong.

  It was an instinct that appeared to be reflected in the weather. The moment the Fabulous Beast had crashed to the ground, dead, the temperature had dropped a degree or two and a powerful wind blew up from the east, battering the cathedral and howling amongst the eaves as if in mourning. Flurries of snow began to fall shortiy after. More, the air itself seemed to taste different, bitter; Mallory hoped it was just the ashes from the burning buildings.

  The knights were all
cheered as they entered the cathedral. Many could barely hide their pride, though the Blues remained as emotionless as ever. They stood at the rear of die nave, shoulders thrown back, staring into the shadows above the quire, while Stefan climbed into the pulpit.

  ‘Tonight we have achieved a great victory,’ he intoned in a powerful voice that filled the cathedral to its roof. ‘We have defeated the great Serpent, the Adversary in the form that tempted Adam and Eve in the Garden, the source of original sin. Defeated!’ His passion brought a ripple of admiration from the congregation.

  Mallory had decided that he disliked Stefan intensely, but he was forced to admire the new bishop’s ability to manipulate through his oration. He had a commanding sense of moment, knowing exactly the right words and tone to control the emotions of his audience.

  ‘And this tremendous victory is all down to our brave knights!’ he continued. ‘With minimal arms, they plumbed the depths of their courage to crush the force of Evil.’

  Mallory was bitterly amused at this interpretation of their actions.

  ‘We have shown today that we can meet the forces of darkness head-on, and that with God’s light shining at our backs we can overcome anything the Adversary places in our way. This has been the first step in establishing the new Kingdom of Heaven on earth.’

  He continued in that vein for five minutes, playing word games, delivering rhetoric, slowly building hope and optimism amongst the browbeaten brothers. But then there was a subtle, unannounced change in his tone; his face grew more grave.

  ‘To carry out the Work of our Lord as He intended, we need to be pure of heart,’ he said, moving his gaze slowly across the congregation as if he were looking at each one individually. ‘We need to be a shining example to all who see us: the most devout, the purest of thought, the clearest of conscience, unsullied by the corrupting material world so that the Lord’s light shines out of us, so that all who see us will have something to which they can aspire.’

  There was a long pause while he waited for his words to sink in, but he didn’t stop pressing the attention of his cold, dark eyes on the worshippers. ‘To that end, we will be instigating more intensive religious instruction amongst your duties. There are many different branches of the Church under this roof, which has made worship understandably fragmented. With the help of the Chapter of Canons and some of the elders, we will be attempting to bring homogeneity to services and ritual so that we can be as one.’ This brought a faint murmur of disapproval, which Stefan didn’t appear to hear. ‘It has also been noted that there have been … failings. In some quarters, even piety is a quality in short supply. And some stand in direct opposition to the teachings of Our Lord. Yes, even here. There has been indulgence in drink and blasphemous talk, in the sins of the flesh when the gates were open and in the sin of sodomy since the gates have been closed. Prayers have been abandoned; the Great Work of God has been allowed to wither. That cannot be allowed. We must be strict with ourselves, for if we are not, how can we ask others to obey the Word?