Stoc (A New Druids Series Book 3)

by Donald D. Allan

  Brent smiled. "You are probably concussed. Anything broken?"

  "Just my pride."

  "They threatened to harm you to get me to talk."

  "Did they? See? Told you. Who's the smart one now?"

  "You, my friend. I owe you ten groats."

  "You better pay up."

  "I will."

  "Hmm. So, what are they asking you?"

  "About what happened in Jaipers and at the farm. They followed us from Jaipers. Seems like we led them straight to the farm."

  "Maybe so. They also had the note from Steve. It was only a matter of time. Still, we won there."

  "Won? I suppose. Not sure what we won exactly."

  "The right to..." James was interrupted by the sound of the door opening.

  A chair scrapped on the floor and someone cleared their throat. "Tell me what happened at Jaipers." It was the same voice as before.

  "Who are you? Give us your name at least."

  "I am Kevin Balfour. I am the new Head of the Sect of the Church of the New Order. I have replaced Seth Farlow, the man you murdered at the farm."

  "I have murdered no one in my life. He was evil and attacking innocents. He razed Jaipers and slaughtered my men. I was fulfilling my duty to the Realm. I declare your Sect unlawful and I will arrest you once I get free of this confinement."

  "What happened at Jaipers?"

  "You know what happened at Jaipers."

  "Tell me!"

  "Tell you what? That God worked through me? Allowed me and my friends to escape? Why do you need me to tell you what you already know to be truth? Where is your faith?"

  "Do not lecture me on faith. I must hear from your mouth what transpired."

  "Why? You know the truth. Why must I voice it?"

  "Humour me. I will ask you: please."

  "Now you feign politeness? You keep us tied up, hooded, and expect us to cooperate? Now pleasantries?"

  "One moment," said Balfour. He heard him rise and then his hood was lifted. Brent blinked at the brightness and watched the man remove the hood from James. He sat back down on the chair and looked back at Brent. He was completely bald and his head looked polished and gleamed in the lamplight. He wore a simple robe of thick-spun brown wool and wore black boots on his feet. He lacked eyebrows but bright intelligent blue eyes stared calmly back at Brent. Brent couldn't help but notice that this was a man of exceptional fitness.

  Brent glanced at James and saw that dried blood ran from a cut on his forehead down his face. His face was bruised and numerous cuts were across his chin and cheeks. His left eye was swollen shut. It looked like he had put up a good fight. James caught his eye with his one good one, and they nodded to one another. Brent looked around the room and it was empty except for the three chairs they sat on. The one door out was behind Balfour and was solid with iron supports. A lamp sat on the floor beside Balfour and gave the only light.

  "Our ways are set," said Balfour. "We have been this way since we were first created by the Archbishop, God rest his soul. Our way has always been one of violence. It has survived the years and proven highly successful in the task that God himself gave us."

  "Violence should be used as a last resort. It is a means to an end and seldom a good one. Men of true strength find other ways."

  "We were faced by demons. We were directed by God to wipe the earth of their presence."

  "It was not God who led you. It was a demon."

  "This cannot be true."

  "You were at the farm?"

  "Yes."

  "You saw the creature that appeared. The creature that spoke to your leader?"

  Balfour clenched his jaw and nodded once.

  "Then you know the truth. You have been doing the work of Hell. Spreading fear and death in God's name. Torturing and killing innocent women and children."

  "You have seen the power they wield. It is unholy. God cannot abide such evil."

  "That is not so. I have lived with these people. Call them for what they truly are: druids. They work the earth, nurture it, and heal people. They cannot use their powers to harm others."

  "Many of my brethren have been slain by these demons."

  "Not demons: druids. They defended themselves. Never did they strike out at you first, correct?"

  Balfour hesitated and then nodded.

  "I am bound here with ropes that writhe and squirm with an unholy life to them. You use such tools? Surely you can sense the evil that they are?"

  Balfour blinked and looked quickly at the ropes binding Brent's feet to the chair. "These tools were provided by Seth. Created by God."

  "Wrong. They were created by Seth using blood magic. Will Arbor explained it to me. He studied what your people left behind at the farm. The red ruby, the ropes and the boots. All infused with Seth's blood magic."

  Balfour rose suddenly and left the room.

  James looked surprised and stared at Brent. "What the...?"

  "No idea. Crazy people. How can they not see the horrible things they have done for what they are?"

  James shook his head in response and winced in pain.

  "How's the head? Your face is covered in blood, bruises and what not. You look worse than normal."

  "Pounding headache. Pretty bad actually. Hard to focus. Harder with one swollen shut. I'll survive though."

  "Wonderful."

  James forced a smile. "So what's the plan?"

  Brent pondered the question for a moment. He had no plan. "I have no idea. I only know I have to be here."

  "That's comforting. Thanks. I appreciate it. This God of yours sounds wonderful. Why not just appear and say 'Here's what you need to do'. Why all this whatever this is? Gaea has it right. Show up. Say something. Disappear. Nice and clean that is. I like it."

  "It doesn't work that way."

  "Why not? Who says it has to be the way you think it is?"

  "Faith is rewarded. Without Faith there is no path to God."

  "And if you fail to have Faith?"

  "Then you are not rewarded."

  "Rewarded with what?"

  "Eternal life in the afterlife. Heaven. Or if you lead an evil life, Hell. Eternal damnation."

  "Seems harsh. Kind of a 'believe or else' kind of scenario."

  Brent grew quiet. He had wrestled with his demons long ago and was confident in his faith. He heard from James all those same doubts he once had. It was always trying when he heard them again. He calmed himself and focused. He had faith. He had enough for a lifetime.

  He looked up when the door opened and Balfour strode in. He was not alone this time. Another man followed him in and looked like he would rather be elsewhere. The man had black hair and a broad white moustache. Balfour looked from James to Brent and then seated himself. The other man stood behind him.

  "This man is Martin Jordan. He is a vicar and the senior clergy in Jergen. The Lord Protector pulled back everyone above vicar to the capital. Please. Explain to us what occurred at Jaipers. In your own words."

  Brent looked to James, and he shrugged. "You fellows had wiped out my men. Ambushed and slaughtered us in the streets. Set fire to the barracks. I've no idea how many you murdered. Civilians were killed. It was madness. I was struck down and woke in the common room tied to James and the Reeve of the town, Steve Comlin.

  "Seth came in and started to torture me. He cut off my pinkie. Repeatedly. Taking great pleasure in it, I might add. Then a light came out of my forehead. Our bonds fell to the ground. We rose. They ran. And we left."

  The vicar spoke for the first time. "What do you mean by 'repeatedly'?" His voice had a rough quality to it. His accent placed him from Munsten.

  "It was cut off. Seth took pride in measuring the distance it flew. Then a new one would grow back."

  "You have a pinkie on both hands."

  "Yes. They grew back. Vicar, why do you associate with the Sect?"

  The vicar looked startled. Balfour shifted in his seat and glanced quickly at the vicar to silence him. "And the ligh
t that came from your forehead. Describe that."

  "It was bright. Wouldn't you say, James?"

  "Yes. Very bright," James nodded his head. "And it was the symbol of your church. Shouldn't forget that."

  "You blaspheme," stated Balfour, the words flat.

  "If you say so," replied Brent.

  "The farm. What happened?"

  "I arrived with James, Steve and Dempster just in time to find Seth on a horse that should have been dead. Surrounded by men who also should have been dead. Seth was in the process of attacking a young man, William Arbor. I came to his aide. Then a demon called Erebus appeared. Remember him? All black? Evil? My forehead lit up again and struck the demon and it was destroyed. Along with Seth, too. Such a shame."

  "I see," said Balfour.

  "Don't forget the amulet," added James. "It lit up too."

  "Amulet?"

  "Ah, yes," said Brent. "My amulet. It bears the symbol of the Church of the New Order. If you haven't removed it already, it is around my neck."

  The vicar came forward and pulled the amulet out from Brent's tunic. He gazed at it and then turned it over to see the symbol of the Tree on the reverse. "This is the symbol of our church, but on the back is the symbol for the heathens."

  "Turns out the druids worked closely with the church. A long time ago that is."

  "This cannot be. This is not what we were told," sputtered the vicar.

  Brent felt sorrow for the man. The man and most likely the entire Sect had been misled by the Archbishop and Seth. He was certain that these were not men of evil. Just misguided. He wondered if that was why he was here. To correct them. Set them back on the correct path.

  "Your Archbishop has much to answer for."

  Balfour stirred. "Our Archbishop is dead. He was struck down by the Lord Protector's men."

  The vicar let the amulet fall free and moved to stand beside Balfour.

  "What? When was this?" asked Brent.

  "Some time ago. The Archbishop had become addicted to a drug. A drug that has had made its way into the Church members and run rampant. The Archbishop reportedly attacked the Lord Protector. Naked and in the church. The drug is insidious. A lot of the senior clergy are now addicts."

  "But not the Sect."

  "No. We use something else, life salt. It focuses us and is not addictive. It is enough."

  "I'm sorry for your loss. I knew the Archbishop in the castle. A strange man, but decent enough."

  Balfour bowed his head. "You are kind to say so."

  "Who runs the Church now?"

  "The Lord Protector," answered Martin.

  Brent blinked. Plots within plots. That man has no end to his greed for power, he thought. The church cannot be run by the likes of Healey. That is unacceptable. Options opened up before him. His experiences in recent months laid out before him like a map. He lowered his head and gave thanks before looking up at Balfour and Martin. "Untie me. I must return to Munsten and put the church in order."

  Balfour looked surprised and laughed. "I do not think that will be possible. We have only begun to question you. There is much we need to understand."

  Brent felt his bonds fall free, and he stood. "I don't think so. I'm here to guide the Church back on the path. To return you from evil. There is much to do." Balfour stared at shock at Brent and looked to the floor by the chair where the ropes lay smoking. He struggled to his feet and his chair fell over backwards. Martin made a high cry and backed away. James stood when he realised his bonds were also gone.

  Balfour moved to back away but Brent reached out and clasped him on the shoulder, halting him. "Come. Introduce me to your brothers."

  Six

  Munsten Castle - May 901 A.C.

  LORD PROTECTOR JOHN Healy sat in front of the Chamber of Representatives with his arms folded in his lap. The full Chamber was composed of representatives from each county and city in Belkin. It had been expanded to include towns with a large population in recent years and the ranks had swelled. Sitting with the Chamber were the members of the Privy Council, the Military Council and the Judicial Council. A gathering of all the representatives was uncommon. A gathering that included the three councils was unheard of. The time was late in the evening and the chamber had been in closed session for most of the day. Reports of unrest were flooding in from all over the Realm and the representatives and council members wanted answers.

  Healy had been moving the conversation to the climax of his finest hour. The chamber was tired, and many looked toward the chamber doors and Healy could see they were exhausted. Healy felt energized and stared out at all the people in front of him. Healy had dirt on all of them and had them all in the palms of his hands. These meetings and decisions were all for show. As the Lord Protector, he had unwavering control and authority over all the decisions in Belkin. He gave them the illusion of power and let them think they still had a choice in the matters of the policy and it let them go home and sleep with a clearer conscience.

  Lanterns and candles lit the room now that night had fallen. Torches were lit around the outer perimeter. Flickering shadows bathed the room from all the carvings in the stonework. It gave the room an eerie feel. A few members were asleep in the back row. Healy had watched their heads bounce up and down in an effort to stave off sleep but they each succumbed to the fatigue.

  Healy could see many heads turning toward the exit. The head of the Judicial Council Robert Ghent was still speaking, but no one was listening. He was describing the increase in crime in the realm. His magistrates were reporting a rise in religiously motivated vandalism. Common houses that were used as gatherings for the Word were being torched. The realm was in turmoil and the sharp rise in religious fanatics was causing the land to divide. The Chancery was hard pressed to issue legal orders and was gaining little support from the Church of the New Order.

  The demise of the Archbishop and Healy then taking over the Church of the New Order was not being well received by the people. People were demanding a new Archbishop be named. In response, Healy had pulled all the bishops back to Munsten and had them sequestered. They believe they are determining who will be the next Archbishop. I will never give up the Church now that I have it, smiled Healy. I am the King in all but name.

  Healy looked down to his head of the Privy Council, Advisor Robert Hargrave, who sat near him on his right and recorded all the conversations. He had three scribes behind him and later they would compare notes for the official record. It would only be official after Healy edited the words. Hargrave and his scribes were the only ones listening to what was being said this day. Sensing eyes on him, Hargrave looked up to Healy and smiled briefly before returning to his scribbling. Healy looked out over the chamber and put on his most charming smile and tried not to frown when several of the council members looked frightened at seeing it.

  "Enough, Chancellor Ghent. I fear you have lost your audience. The Judicial Council has the power over the Chancery to administer necessary new laws to better support our magistrates and reeves. As the interim head of the Church, I have ordered the deans and vicars to police their followers and urge calm and stop the violence. I have asked the Military Council to increase the garrisons and I ask that the Judicial Council consider allowing the reeves to bring in more deputies and arm them accordingly." The floor buzzed with conversation at the words. The ones asleep in the back snorted awake and looked blearily around. Chancellor Ghent gave a weak smile and sat back down in his seat. He leaned in toward his second and they discussed something in private. Healy ignored them.

  "I think we can all agree Belkin is in a state of turmoil. The Military Council has reported unrest in all the villages and towns. The Church has stepped in to assist as you well know. Wordsmiths are gathering the people in the common halls and asking for calm. People are listening but they are still afraid. Echoes of the Revolution haunt their imaginings and drives their fears. We need greater security in the Realm but already our Army is spread so thin they manage little."

 
The representative from Turgany, frowned, and raised a hand. Healy ignored him.

  "Your votes throughout the day have already been tallied and no longer up for debate. Previous matters are closed. Turgany, lower your hand, enough. We have discussed internal security measures far too long already. I need your attention on a more important matter. Attention, please, everyone." Healy rose from his seat.

  "Martial law was imposed on the land by this chamber as a result of continued unrest after the Revolution. Belkin is a country which has faced the realities of post-Revolution reconstruction. We possess a government under martial law which does not shrink from the consequences of facts and has maintained the courage to impose remedies required to secure and to stabilise our national recovery.

  "I remind you we cannot forget the significant threat from the land of Cian-Oirthear to the east. Years ago our spies reported a surge of activity to the east that was rapidly pushing west to the Belkin Sea. We had reports they looked with longing to our land and craved our riches. We heard the forces of Cian-Oirthear were led by a man named Mushir Adham with a military skill and tactics unparalleled in Belkin. Today I report I have been in contact with Cian-Oirthear and this Mushir. I am pleased to announce that the overseas threat is no longer. I wish to table a motion to remove the edicts of martial law."

  The chamber exploded with shouts. Council members and representatives looked at one another in shock at the words and looked to Hargrave for confirmation. All tried to talk at once and many called out to Healy for an explanation.

  "Silence!" shouted Healy. When no one paid him any heed he picked up his gavel and slammed it repeatedly on the table in front of him. "Silence!" After a moment, the chatter concluded until all eyes were once again upon him.

  "I assure you there is no threat of war from overseas. The threat is from within our Realm. Years ago, I spoke of it. I had thought the Archbishop, and the Church, had it all in hand and indeed they did for these many years. With his death, I have taken over the Church and I now have intelligence that tells me that the evil that lay just beneath the skin of our civilisation has not been wiped clear. It has grown in power and threatens us all. But I will get to that in a moment."