Intimations of Evil (Warriors of Vhast Book 1)

by Cary J Lenehan

  All of the horses, except Bianca’s, which were left to roam free, were put inside the enclosure for the night and a pole, sitting there waiting on top of the wall, was put across the opening. Hulagu, who declared himself skilled at animal physicking inspected Bianca’s dressing of Sirocco’s wound, although he was only allowed close once Bianca had hugged the horses and instructed them to allow him. He replaced the poultice and inspected and approved her stitching. Sirocco had moved slowly that day, but without much of a problem. Bianca softly accused him of trying for sympathy as she rubbed him down. He snorted.

  After checking the surrounds the men took turns keeping watch and fetching water from the stream for the horses and for Bianca, while she kept cooking. Bianca was being made nervous by the closer view the trees forced on them and she even had to adjust to having less light in the forests. She had to check the sky. Although Terror was now waxing in the sky and the smaller Panic was getting near its maximum the leaves cut out so much light and made it harder for her to see.

  ~~~

  To add to her discomfort, the next day it started to rain, not heavily, but in a continuous light drizzle. It was enough to make everything damp and to slowly soak through cloaks, wetting any bowstring. The Khitan unstrung their bows in disgust. They were to stay unstrung for the next two days as they squelched along the sodden path. Bianca had noticed the men, more used to the outdoor life, had already put tinder and wood in one of the horse packs to keep them dry when they entered the forest. That, at least, let her light a fire, but once they added damp wood to the flames, columns of smoke announced their presence. This forced them to only light a fire late in the day when it was unlikely to be noticed. She would not have thought of that. Apparently it was important and the men took turns climbing trees when they stopped to see if they could see smoke from anyone else.

  ~~~

  On the third wet night they shared their campsite with a large and well-armed group of Havenite traders headed west. They had an escort of seven well-disciplined Freehold mercenaries, who looked down their noses at the scruffy looking and damp Khitan. From the way they acted Bianca thought they assumed she was one as well. While she was unloading the horses Malik and Hulagu tried to find out more from them. They didn’t even try and be polite to the Khitan and spoke only in Latin.

  Luckily, she thought with a grin, Malik had more of that than Hulagu did.

  They said they were carrying spices, cloth and ‘other goods’ and did not want to be more forthcoming with the Khitan. Later Hulagu explained the traders feared the party might turn around and announce what they carried in their cargo to raiders on the plains. The Khitan seemed amused by this, although Bianca found, to her surprise, she was offended at the succession of slights being offered to her friends. The merchants only grudgingly let the two know that they would see Evilhalt the next day.

  Hulagu suggested they set their sleep a small distance from the others and Bianca realised none of the four had offered any formal greetings to the merchants. Once they started to set up their camp Bianca shed her jacket and started working, like a Khitan girl would, in her damp gauze undershirt. She noticed quickly that this distracted the guards. She was ashamed of the rudeness of the people from her land. It was so unlike the hospitality she had been shown by the Khitan that, without really thinking about it, she decided to distract the caravan even more.

  Once they had completed their routines, she stood where the fire lit her up from behind and sang, in Latin, the bawdiest tavern songs she knew from her life of working in taverns which were frequented by traders and their guards. The Khitan seemed to realise what she was doing and laughingly accompanied her by beating time on anything that resonated. Glancing over she noticed the guards seemed to be paying little attention to anything except the Khitan side of their camp, to the annoyance of their employers. In her prayers she asked to be forgiven for such lewd behaviour, but secretly she was pleased with the reaction although, at the same time, she was somewhat surprised with herself for doing it.

  ~~~

  During the night the rain stopped and it dawned bright and fair. As they were packing and setting out they were all jacketless and again Bianca provided an overwhelming distraction to the guards. The Khitan were behaving as brothers and ignoring her, but the display of her small but generously endowed frame, easily seen in the morning light, meant the caravan workers had to be often crossly reminded to keep at their jobs.

  Soon after they headed off, and Bianca had put her jacket on, they started to see small assarts in the forest and people working them. To her surprise all of the assarts had roses growing around them in dense hedges around their tall fences and walls. It seemed these were one of the first things the locals planted when they moved to an area.

  Occasionally they shared the track with a person or two. Unlike the traders these people were reserved, but polite. Bianca noticed they seemed to have no fear of the little group. Near midday they reached a small and new looking hamlet of half a hand of buildings, with another larger structure being built. Malik asked where they were and were told proudly this new building was to be the tavern of their new village of Westway. Eventually, the five reached cultivated land and only a couple of clumps of trees and fields, either meadow, fallow or planted with roses, stood between them and the town of Evilhalt, whose walls they could clearly see. Beside them, and set apart from the forest there was a large open hut beside a stone circle which was surrounded by a grove of ancient looking and giant trees. A group of people, some horsed and some on foot, were in a nearby field. None looked like farmers.

  “We go no further,” Malik said. “We have seen you safe off our clan lands and to this destination. We were due back to our clan some time ago and all of us have wives who will want a very good explanation for our continued absence. We will tell the tale of your adventure and of your quest and make sure that the story spreads and we will send a messenger to tell your family we have brought you safe to this point.”

  “Again we thank you,” said Hulagu, obviously speaking a fixed set of words. “May the plains ever be flat beneath your feet, may your herds prosper and may you die content in front of your children after a long life.”

  Without thinking Bianca went up to all three of the men and, while all were still mounted, kissed them all on both cheeks as she assumed she would to a brother. This was all unknown territory for her. From the reaction of the Pack-hunters she had done more or less the right thing.

  Malik replied in a similar formal tone for the three, “We thank you for these wishes. We wish you the same and, above all, we hope your quest is a success.”

  With this the Pack-hunters turned their horses and both groups went on their paths without looking back at each other. Hulagu had quietly explained to Bianca last night that this is how they would part. This was normally how it was done as the custom of the people of the plains.

  Chapter XIV

  “Brother Christopher, I believe it is time for you to make a decision about your future,” said Abbott Theophilus.

  Christopher, who was the novice standing in front of him, looked around the bare stone-walled office. He felt very nervous as he started to speak “I wish—”

  “I know very well what you think you wish,” the Abbott interjected. “You think you want the life of a monk and a teacher—perhaps even that of a solitary. However, I am far from convinced. I think you should marry and take a church and a village to tend. I have watched you since you were young and know the things that have sent you to us to be raised. I have even discussed you with the Metropolitan and we have both had occasion to include you in our prayers. We have decided to ordain you and send you into the world for a few years to find out which of us, you or I, is correct.”

  “But—”

  “There will be no buts.”

  Christopher thought he saw a brief smile flickered over the Abbott’s face.

  “Such would be disobedience and that is obviously the wrong thing for a monk to display. Y
ou will head out. You may be the missionary who will return the errant to us. You may find a wife and return to care for a flock or you may not survive. However all of our prayer and our observation of the signs and portents tell us you have a destiny that would be wasted in a life of contemplation and that you need to leave now. Your way lies south.”

  “But Abbot, I know so little of the outside world. I have been here since I was a small child and barely remember else.” He looked around him, bewildered, at the familiar walls, at the crucifix and icons on them and at the Abbott’s desk with papers on it. “This is my world.”

  “We know this and count it another reason for you to go. Most of us within these walls came to the monastery after a full life outside. Even Brother Petrus, who was only just counted as adult, had been raised as a part of a large family and, for him they all agreed that his choice and vocation was clear for over ten years. Why, Brother Theodule was a grandfather of forty summers and a priest for many years before that when his wife died and he decided to join us. If you became a monk straight away you might come to regret never having been a part of the world.”

  He held a hand up to forestall any comment. “A poor show of the obedience a monk requires it would be if you were to refuse. The Metropolitan and I have decided that you must spend a minimum of two years outside, and away from Greensin, before we accept your decision to renounce the world, if that is the way you finally decide. In the meantime we are very happy for you to make yourself useful. The copy of the Gospels that is held at Evilhalt has grown old from use. As you know we have just completed a new copy and it has just now finished being checked for errors. You are to deliver it. After you have done this you may travel the world as you wish. We simply ask that you call into any church that you are near and help them for as long as you may before moving on—but do not outlast your usefulness nor stay in just one place unless they lack a priest. On your return, or if you can send a message before that, you are to tell us if any have needs or problems that they have not mentioned.”

  Christopher sighed and nodded. Reluctantly, he realised he had to accept his fate.

  The Abbott continued, “Being ordained, you are also to minister to any of the flock that you may encounter. There are believers all over the Land. Some may not have seen a priest for quite a while. As well, we charge you to not hesitate to bring back to the True Faith any schismatics that you may meet in your travels.”

  Again Christopher nodded slowly. He didn’t feel convinced. He wanted to stay here.

  “Now go see Brother Porter. He will equip you. Once that is done, spend the night in contemplation. You will be ordained in the morning and on the next morn you are to set out.”

  “As you wish, Abbot Theophilus,” said Christopher reluctantly as he suppressed a deep sigh. Again he looked at the comforting sights around him in the office, knowing that this might be the last time he saw it. He also knew that he had just lost the security that he had felt for most of his life and he might never feel that comfort again.

  ~~~

  That night, which he spent entirely in the basilica itself, was the longest of Christopher’s life so far. He sat there in his coarse habit, in the chill of the empty basilica until he was interrupted by the midnight service. He prayed for guidance, for help and, belatedly, in thanks. He wandered around and viewed the mosaic icons on the walls and roof from where they were meant to be seen, contemplating the mysteries and miracles they portrayed. He lit candles and prayed to the saints depicted in other mosaics and on the smaller painted icons. He was going out into the world. He had little skill at arms or indeed at anything worldly. He could only just use the sling and staff that Brother Porter had given to him. At least the latter had been prayed over to enhance the damage that it did to evil and its creatures.

  He had been given an icon—it was a small icon of his namesake, the patron of travellers. He had a pen-case and ink, a small prayer book, a book of services and his notes on the miracles that he was able to use, or might have to use, all held in a scrip. He had a rosary at his waist, a cross around his neck, holy water and an asperser in his pack. He suspected that these last few items would be of more use to him than any weapons. He had his medical kit. He had a supply of dried and smoked food that seemed large to him, but probably would not prove to be. He would soon be relying on the help of other members of the ecumen to survive. He even had been given some money in a little purse that would be tucked away in another scrip that hung at his belt, something that he was not used to having.

  In the morning his ordination was presided over by the Metropolitan. In a cloud of burning incense and before the other monks it all went smoothly and, once it was done he felt a sense of, well, completeness that worried him somewhat. Father Christopher then spent the remainder of the morning being congratulated by those he was leaving behind. The ordination of a new priest was a rare enough occurrence and it was just cause for a holiday to be given to everyone.

  The next day, after saying his first service of Orthros, Father Christopher was seen off by the entire monastery. Normally a messenger, such as himself, would be sent off with merchants, but none were expected to pass through in the right direction for quite some time. In such cases the decision was usually to trust in God and His protection. Christopher set off joyously into the world, but he also felt more than a measure of trepidation. Except when gathering herbs and timber from the woods with other monks, or tending to some of the nearby sick, he had never really been outside the monastery. If he was truly honest with himself, and he may as well be now, Christopher had to admit that he was rather unworldly. All his life that he could remember, he had always counted that as a virtue.

  Leaves of green were turning rust with autumn, but still there was some warmth in the air that was around him. Christopher had been given his directions and so, waving at those behind for the last time he left the small town of Greensin behind him.

  Once he had left the hamlets and assarts that surrounded the houses behind, the smells of wood smoke and fields gave way to the smells of the wild—or forest and wilderness. As he walked he prayed about his destiny. So lost in his personal contemplation was he that he wandered along the road without paying total attention to exactly where he was headed. Still, he seemed to be making good progress as he travelled that day down a road that was bright with birdsong. Christopher wandered along happily, feeling at last a part of the entirety of God’s creation.

  ~~~

  As the day moved towards dusk Christopher began to hear the sound of axes and he moved towards it a trifle quicker. After an hour a clearing appeared to the right of the path. In it eight men had felled a forest giant, some sort of gum, and were trimming it. To one side a group of bullocks were roughly fenced off with rope and some trimmed branches. The men were there to haul the timber off. Two pair of giant wheels leant against a nearby tree ready to be attached to the trimmed trunk of the fallen giant.

  “The Peace of Christ on you and blessings be upon your labour,” Christopher said.

  They all stopped and looked at him. “Hail Father and thank you. Where are you off to alone?” said one of the men, a bearded giant with a bare torso, a man who hefted a gigantic axe as if it were a willow wand.

  “I am Father Christopher and I am off to Evilhalt.”

  “Evilhalt? Then you are on the wrong road,” said the giant of a man. “This is the road to Wolfneck. You must have turned left instead of right after you left Greensin.”

  “Did I? I cannot get to Evilhalt this way?” Christopher was bewildered. He hadn’t noticed a turn off. He wondered if he had inadvertently taken the wrong exit from the clearing. It was quite possible.

  “No Father. You will either have to retrace your steps for over half a day or else go across country. That will be shorter, but you may get lost in even a worse fashion.”

  “I thank you. I must be off,” said Christopher, stepping off to the right of the path.

  The large man spoke again, “Wait Father, it is be
st if you stay with us for the night and start fresh in the morning. These woods are not always safe at night.”

  Christopher looked around. He had never been in danger before. “I thank you. Yes, I will stay.”

  Introductions were made and the men turned to finish their work for the day. Christopher looked around and realised there was not much he could do. Using the one thing he had experience with, he set himself to gather firewood, carrying and dragging it to near where the men had set up a camp. He felt his contribution to be meagre.

  Once the men were finished and starting to get food ready Christopher realised that some of them were looking at him expectantly. Unsure what they wanted he started on his evening prayers, changing them when it became apparent that this was what they were waiting for. He ended up the day conducting his second service of Hesperinos. This time it was done in the forest while a meal was being prepared, with the men alternately cooking and helping and then sitting on the ground before him.

  He contrasted this to his first service. The painted and mosaic covered walls of the basilica were transformed into leaves and branches in the deepening dark of the wild forest. The chanting of monks was translated to the lowing of bullocks and the black-clad monks in robes changed to semi-naked, work-stained and sweaty foresters. As he prayed and spoke, Christopher wondered to himself if maybe God was speaking to him and telling him that he had now decisively moved from the spiritual into the temporal world and was now firmly a part of it.

  ~~~

  The next morning, after morning prayers were said, Father Christopher set out, full of instructions from the men as they began to finish trimming the tree. He had decided to cut across country. The timber cutters thought it would be much quicker and showed him how to find south by looking at the moss on the tree trunks. As he went, he smiled. He could find north easily. All he had to do was keep the sound of their axes, echoing through the previously untouched forest as they cleared a tiny bit of it at his back—again perhaps a metaphor for him putting civilisation behind him. Gradually the sound faded, but the woods were so quiet that he had reached what he hoped was the right path and had turned towards the east, that is towards his left hand, before he could no longer sometimes hear it faintly behind him.