Livingstone Saga, Book One: Birth

by Janell Rhiannon

  “It is useless to cover its nature,” the old woman said, and repeated, “Evil can be beautiful, if you want it to be.”

  *

  Iseo woke up gasping for air. She remembered the maggot covered child. What is wrong with me? What is wrong with my child?

  She cried out, “What is wrong with me?!”

  “You have a fever,” a voice spoke through the fog of dreams.

  “What does it mean?”

  “What are you asking, my dove?” the voice asked.

  “Why does she say evil can be beautiful? What does it mean?!” Iseo’s frantic questioning grew to hysteria, before her body collapsed into a fitful slumber.

  “Who is she?” asked Amat.

  “Do you know what is wrong with my queen?” Nassir asked the trio of physicians gathered around the foot of the bed.

  “Your Majesty,” the primary physician began, “We are only certain that her suffering is not of this realm.”

  “What nonsense is this?” the king asked angrily.

  “Her suffering is from the other side of our world, Your Majesty. She has the imprint of the spirit world on her brow.”

  “How can you help her?” he asked.

  “You must send for the priest of Compostela. He will be the only one who can save her and your child.”

  “The man called Father Tomas?”

  “No, the priest they call Father Celestino. Only he can save her now.”

  *

  Snow dusted the ground like lace. Iseo looked around. She was in the central square of some lofty cathedral. It felt like Compostela, but she could not identify any specific feature from her former home. Her eyes scanned the line of a wall trying to find the window of her workshop. But the wall extended further and further the more she tried to focus on it. She was suddenly aware of floating. Sweet Jesus, it is happening again. Floating through the square, she could not see or feel her feet.

  A very tall man wrapped in flowing robes of crimson and royal blue walked ahead of her. He neither looked back nor spoke to her. She followed him, until he stopped and extended his right arm into the chilly air. From out of the vast blue, a red-tailed hawk descended on his arm. He accepted its presence, as if the wild bird belonged to him. There was no question in his demeanor that a wild creature should flock to him.

  The sky closed in on her, clouds surrounded her, when the crone approached. “Look, old mother, look at this spectacle. Is it a marvel?” The crone made no response. She pointed as the hawk took flight, heading directly to Iseo. It landed with heaviness on her right shoulder. Iseo’s knees buckled under the weight of the bird. She sank to the ground while the hawk pressed its sharp beak into her cheek.

  “Do not move or he will harm you,” said the old mother.

  Iseo closed her eyes against the panic swirling in her stomach. She obeyed the crone.

  “He is a wild bird. You must listen,” the crone said.

  The weight on her shoulder increased, yet Iseo remained steady. She trusted that it would not bite her. She had witnessed hunting hawks and knew first hand their beak’s destructive power. She reached her right hand up to touch the beak. The hawk only pressed harder, drawing a thin trickle of sangre. She acquiesced to its power.

  It spoke, “What is born in violence remains violent. The sangre cannot be washed away.”

  *

  Iseo sucked in a cold breath and opened her eyes. Night penetrated all the corners of her chamber. In the corner of her eye, a shadow swept from her room. Her limbs felt heavy when she tried to move them. It was as if the weight of the world pressed her into the bed. Celestino! Help me, por favor!

  Chapter 25

  Reunited

  Father Avriel paced the floor of Father Tomas’s chamber. “How could this happen? I thought the woman would be safe if she were far away? No one save us and her father, as you tell it, knew her true calling.”

  “How do you think he will take the news?”

  “I would not divulge the entirety of the situation until you are en route.”

  “Why keep it from him?”

  “It gives him too much time to think and feel. Keep his heart and mind from this aspect of the truth, as long as possible. It will only interfere with what he must do.”

  Father Tomas was surprised. “How did you know of them?”

  “How could I not? They were far too familiar with each other for my comfort.”

  “Are you any closer to finding the person responsible for spreading the Soul Casting stones?”

  “I can find no trace of any person. It is odd. Not even Father Antony could tell me who gave him the sard and jasper, let alone discern the Tears of the Fallen and Lucifer’s from the lot of stones exchanged.”

  “I yet shudder to think of his eyes. Burnt white orbs.”

  “He received a just punishment for his part in the sacrilege against God.”

  “I do not understand why the Pope was so harsh. Excommunication? His contrition seemed sincere. I do not believe he truly knew what he was doing.”

  Father Avriel recalled the image of the fat priest’s neck beneath his hands. “He was no saint, Brother. He received exactly what God intended.”

  “How can you be so certain of yourself?” Father Tomas challenged. “He was a dedicated—”

  Celestino entered the room without knocking. “I am here, Father, as summoned.”

  “You may wish to sit. I have news to share.”

  Father Avriel eyed his Brother intently. He mouthed, “Do not say anything about Iseo!”

  Celestino caught the tale end of Father Avriel’s silent words. “What is our purpose, Fathers?”

  “Ah, hum. We have been called to a far away place to save a woman from a demon.” There. Father Tomas spoke directly to the truth.

  “Further than Finis Terrae?” Celestino asked.

  “Much. Further.”

  Father Avriel rolled his eyes at his Brother’s weak attempt to skirt the truth. He eyed the ceiling and mouthed, “Help him, God!”

  “Is there no church Father, or gargoyle as far away as that?”

  “You have been requested by the family of the...woman. It is a delicate matter.” Father Tomas completely side-stepped the question. Of course there were no Catholic churches in Moorish lands, let alone priests to exorcize demons.

  “They are known to you then? It is good. When do we leave?” Celestino asked.

  “At first light. We will be on the road for several days. Maybe up to seven. Pack your things...including your shield. We will be gone for close to a fortnight.”

  “You have never requested I bring my shield.” Celestino thought for a moment and deferred, “As you wish, Father.”

  *

  Traveling south through the Moorish lands was dangerous business. Being marked as Christian priests did not help the tenuousness of the situation. King Al-Nassir had provided a special paper of dispensation for both of them, and that document alone assured their safe passage through the lands of Allah. The carriage ride pushed mental images of Iseo to the forefront of Celestino’s mind. He dozed slightly between infrequent stops. When his mind wandered into a dream state, he saw Iseo walking amid flames and smoking charred rocks. Finally, the incongruities he felt about the exorcism mission forced him to speak out.

  “Father, what are you keeping from me?” Celestino questioned.

  “What do you feel it is?” Father Tomas answered.

  “I would rather not lend voice to my dreams, for fear it is the truth I see.”

  Father Tomas exhaled loudly, “If you see Iseo, you are right.”

  The mention of her name, voiced in the light, voiced against his wishes to hear it gripped his chest with a strangling tightness. It threatened to choke his clarity of thought, as well as his words.

  “She is tormented by the spirit world,” Father Tomas confessed. “Her husband sent for us. His physicians are convinced her suffering originates in the spirit world. As we would call it...possession.”


  Celestino simply asked, “Can I save her?”

  “It is not for me to say. It is in God’s hands. Do you recall the lesson that God is law?”

  “Sí, humans pray because they must.”

  “Now is time for such prayers. If He hears a single voice above the din of the world’s requests for favors, it is a miracle,” Father Tomas reminded. “There is no reason God allows one person to die and another to live. It is the way of life. It is the Law of God. There are no promises of when or how we die, horrible or peaceful. The only promise is that we will each give up this flesh. Life is life. Death is death. It is between these two realities we all must pass. Even you, eventually,” Father Tomas said. “We need a miracle, Celestino. We need a miracle.”

  A dark curtain descended on him as the truth fell like rocks in an impenetrable wall around him. In his dreams, he felt the presence of a powerful evil. He saw the image of a gargoyle, but it made no sense to him. The unfamiliar reflection taunted him with visions of Iseo’s suffering in the spirit world. He felt her soul being twisted by this blackness. He knew Iseo was slipping into the netherworld. For the remainder of the trip, Celestino did not utter a single word to anyone. His heart and his will focused his love at Iseo. Do not lose hope, my love. My beautiful Maker. I am coming. I will save you. I must save you.

  Chapter 26

  Deliverance of Evil

  Al-Nassir and his physicians kept vigil outside the king’s chamber, while the priests entered. Iseo lay in bed drenched in her own sweat. Her skin was dulled and ashen, her cheeks hollowed by her travail. Her breathing was the rapid sound of an animal. Her body speared by a thousand unspeakable agonies sent from Hell.

  When Father Tomas and Celestino entered the room, Iseo sat bolt upright as if hinged solely from the waist. She held up a thin arm and shook her finger at Father Tomas, then at Celestino.

  “I know you well, Father Tomas. We meet again,” the voice coming from Iseo growled.

  “How do you know my name, demon?” Father Tomas asked Iseo’s shell.

  “Do you not recognize your own work, my Maker?” the demon’s voice sounded the baritone of a great man. Father Tomas recognized the voice immediately, even though it had been over forty years since he had heard it speak to him. For the better part of his life, he chose to forget Tanuicus, and only when Celestino required the information did he dare speak of it. And until this moment, hearing that voice again, it had ceased to truly exist as a reality. He had asked forgiveness for his part in the turning and believed that God had done so. Now, he was not so certain. He wondered why Tanuicus was being brought back into his life.

  “Soon, you will release this woman and be cast from this earth,” Celestino warned with the first words he had spoken in days. Seeing Iseo in duress tore at his heart.

  “Do you think it will be so easy to cast me out, stone warrior?”

  Celestino did not allow the demon’s knowledge to intimidate him. “It is what I was created to do. I will do it. You will go back to the underworld.”

  “You have no experience with my kind. I am more powerful than you realize. And there is more at stake than you know.”

  Considering the circumstance, Father Tomas spoke to his Celestino, “We should step outside, beyond the demon’s ears.” The two priests exited the room to the sound of frenzied laughter behind them.

  *

  “Tell me, Father, about this demon. He called you his Maker.” The very word simultaneously stung and warmed his heart. Memories of Iseo’s hands tracing his face, her voice, his vow to love her forever in secret...all of it, he purposely suppressed. His concentration since Iseo left Compostela fell completely to his training. And now that very wall of careful construction crumbled.

  “I have already told you everything. It was a lifetime ago.”

  “But he turned? How did that happen? He had freewill, but why did he chose Hell?”

  “I do not know. Why did Lucifer chose Satan?”

  “False promises of power. I remember my lessons, Father.”

  “The only one with that answer is Tanuicus.”

  “He is right, is he not? About his power?”

  “Sí, but something is not right. That demon speaks the truth about my past, but it lies about the present circumstance. It seeks to twist my mind with my own failings. Cause me to doubt. And it has worked.” Father Tomas’s shoulders deflated with shame. “As far as I know, gargoyles cannot possess a human. This demon must be a pawn of Tanuicus.”

  “Will I be able to cast it out?”

  “I hope so. For Iseo’s sake, I hope so.”

  Celestino’s resolve to save Iseo pulsed through him like a living force. “Come, Father. We have a soul to save.” They reentered the chamber to find Iseo weak, but aware of her surroundings. The unclean had granted a brief window of reprieve for Iseo, not for her benefit, but to heap anguish upon the exorcist.

  “Celestino? Is it truly you?” Iseo asked weakly.

  “Sí, my Maker. It is I.” He smiled at her.

  “Your teeth are so perfect,” she whispered and reached up a trembling finger to trace his lips. Celestino clasped her frail hand, and kissed her damp, pale forehead. The tenderness between them did not pass unseen by Father Tomas. The distance he placed between them had not extinguished the flame, as he had hoped. It had only made it burn hotter and brighter in the absence of each other.

  “I need you to make a promise to me.” Iseo grasped Celestino’s hands in her own, and kissed them, like he had done to hers so long ago.

  “My word, my Maker,” he promised with his heart, his power, and his purpose.

  Iseo smiled weakly. “Promise me you will save my child.”

  Celestino had not noticed Iseo was with child. But now that she spoke it aloud, the swell of her belly was unmistakable, even from beneath the pile of coverlets.

  “My Iseo,” he whispered. She took his hands and placed them on her belly.

  “Can you feel him, Celestino?” He reluctantly, gently placed his palms on the mound of her body. He felt the child’s sangre of life pulse through his hands, up his arms, and spear his heart.

  “He is what you feared to procreate?” Celestino asked, his eyes rimming with sangre.

  “Do not weep, my love.” She kissed his hands again. “I fear only losing him. More than I feared leaving you.” She smiled softly. “Promise me you will save him.”

  “I promise.” He did not know why he promised this. He had never cast out a demon from a pregnant woman before. The abyss of not knowing gaped wide before him.

  “No matter what happens, save the child. I would suffer Hell fire to save him.”

  “That is a powerful love, my Maker.”

  “It is the most powerful, my love.” She closed her eyes and slept.

  *

  The priests waited for the demon to reappear. Iseo lay like a wilted flower on a sea of white linen. Candles flickered amber light. Melting wax spilled like waterfalls over the candles’ edges and onto the table tops. Heavy tapestry covered the arched windows. The smell of human sweat mingled with cinnamon and sage. There was no air, only a suffocating stillness. Nothing stirred. It was an unnatural calm even for inside a house. The battle to come for Iseo’s soul hung as an oppressive weight on Celestino. His thoughts dwelled on his promise and on the child. He felt the sangre of a strong son. He was a part of her, but not her. Can I do as I promised? God bend your Law in her favor. Give me what strength I need to save them both. Father Tomas’s words rang loudly in his ears: For God to hear a single voice above the din of the world’s requests for favors is a miracle. He had never felt fear before, but not knowing the part this unknown enemy of God, Tanuicus, played in the possession of Iseo generated a sensation so palpable it knotted his gut. A holy creation birthed by Father Tomas’s own hands, strengthened by his soulless birth, bound to earth to save humans from the very thing he had become held the power of life and death for Iseo and her child.

  Father To
mas’s voice broke the silence, “It is time, Celestino.” He pulled the leather cords from his waist pouch. They each tied Iseo’s arms and legs to the bed. Lo siento, my love. He knew it was for her own good, but the action of binding her wrenched his wounded heart all the more. Father Tomas next removed the holy water and purple sash from the waist pouch and pulled the silver cross from beneath his robe. He sprinkled the blessed water over Iseo and made the sign of the cross on her forehead.

  Iseo’s body stirred to deathly life. The demon awoke with a vengeance. It flailed and screamed with the voice of the tormented. Father Tomas began the exorcism rite by kneeling beside her bed and praying.

  Celestino did not hear the prayer. He willed his private thoughts to Heaven.

  “In the name of the Father, the Son, and Holy Spirit, I command you as a humble servant of the Lord on High to give up your name.”

  “You know my name, Maker.”

  “I am not your Maker, unclean beast. Scourge of the earth. Give your name, demon,” Father Tomas commanded.

  “You stupid priests always demanding our names. Why would I want to give you that? So you can cast me back to the pit?!” the demon’s gurgling laughter echoed across the chamber. “You are a foolish man, Father.”

  “I command you in the name of Jesus Christ to give your true name. The name given you in the Underworld.” Father Tomas began anointing Iseo’s body with the sign of the cross at her neck, each shoulder, her belly.

  The demon screamed. Foam spewed from Iseo’s mouth. Together, Father Tomas and Celestino assaulted the unclean with the sacred psalm.

  “I am called Zerkzian!” the demon wailed.

  “I command you to leave this child of God.”

  “No!” The demon refused. It feared its commander more than the present powers.

  Candles flickered with no wind. Iseo’s body twisted until she screamed with agony. She cried out to Celestino, “Save him!”

  The demon knew Iseo wanted the child inside of her more than her own life and he clutched the unborn from within. He bit and gnawed Iseo from inside, just beyond reach of the priest and his gargoyle warrior. “Por favor, Celestino!” Zerkzian mocked the pathetic woman.

  “In the Name of God the Father.”

  “No!” the demon screamed.

  “God the Son.”

  “Nooo!” the demon begged.

  “God the Holy Spirit, leave this defenseless and innocent woman.”