The Righteous Whisper of Allsaints (The White Blood Chronicles Book 2)

by Mark G Heath

  “ They make think you are threatening them. They may be tiny but they are strong and twelve of them would soon rip your arms from their sockets, gouge out your eyes and tear your head from your neck.”

  “ Surely not,” responded Freegard nervously as he rolled up his tools, putting the catches in place.

  “ Do it again then and we shall see,” invited Grimoult sweeping an arm towards the two lines of homunculi. Freegard looked from the alchemist to the tiny men and back to Grimoult. A swift boot from him would surely send the first sailing through the air. The homunculus nearest to him turned its head, the silver eyes alighting on him and Freegard scooped up his tools.

  “ Think I will be heading home, Ilberd.”

  “ Very wise,” smiled Grimoult. Freegard edged past the homunculi and Grimoult and walked towards the rear door where Gregory Talvace was waiting rubbing his hands together.

  “ Good morning Wyatt,” said Talvace.

  “ Morning Gregory,” replied the butcher.

  “Not made too much of a mess for me have you?”

  “Er, no, I’m no hack merchant.”

  “Jolly good, wouldn’t want a head rolling off my cart and upsetting the children, would we?”

  “You will find everything is intact. If you will excuse me, I must get on.”

  “Wait, I have a message for you,” commented the gravedigger.

  “Who from?”

  “Stefan Bootlure. He told me that you have been picked for the Scufflefoot match this week.”

  “Really? Are you telling lies?”

  “Not at all, you can go and ask him if you want. I saw him earlier and told him I would be meeting you. Apparently Master Ackerley’s last performance wasn’t too good, so you are to replace him. He said you should go and collect a sash from him.”

  “Excellent, I had best go and see him then without delay, excuse me Gregory,” said the butcher with a wide smile, delighted at his inclusion in Bootlure’s team.

  “ By all means, fare well,” answered Talvace.

  Freegard tucked the roll under his arm and walked away around the corner. Talvace leant against his cart and watched as the homunculi walked towards him bearing the body. Silently they placed it on the cart and Gregory draped a large sheet over the corpse.

  “ All done then?” asked the gravedigger.

  “Yes thank you,” answered Grimoult. He handed a couple of coins to Talvace who nodded his thanks.

  “ To the graveyard?” asked the alchemist.

  “Oh, not this one. Father said she is to be burnt. Still, it will keep me warm on a chilly day like this,” smiled Talvace.

  “Who have you got under there?” asked the alchemist noting that a body was already on the cart prior to the addition of Coffyn’s corpse.

  “Some traveller from Tulford.”

  “Tulford? He’s a long way from home,” remarked Grimoult.

  “True. Never a good idea getting mouthy about Tulford near Benny though,” smiled the gravedigger.

  “How so? What happened?” asked Grimoult as he stepped outside and lifted the sheet. Underneath were the pale features of a slender man, eyes closed and intact, so far as the alchemist could see.

  “Starting criticising Ben’s ale and saying that some inn in Tulford was far better.”

  “Oh dear.”

  “Precisely, we know what happens when people start calling Benny’s brews. That’s when Benny the Bastard makes an appearance.”

  “What happened then? He looks to be in one piece,” commented Grimoult lowering the sheet.

  “Oh he is, although he is pickled.”

  “Pickled?” queried the alchemist.

  “Aye, Ben offered to let him drink as much Left Handed Giant as he could to say sorry for being a poor brewer. The traveller gladly accepted, so Ben dragged him into the brewery out the back and plunged him head first into a vat of the ale. Until he drowned.”

  “I can think of worse ways to perish,” smiled Grimoult.

  “Don’t suppose you want his body do you?”

  “Has Harriet dealt with him?”

  “No, I have only just picked him up this morning.”

  “ No, besides, it is only usually women I want. Now, I am expecting another from Harriet, probably tomorrow, so if you would call at say, midday on the morrow, that would suit me excellent well.”

  “Aye, I can do that. Thought I would be bringing you a white blood, if truth be told.”

  “ Yes, well, he proved more difficult than we reckoned and I can’t see him meeting his demise for a long time now Kathryn has a hold over him,” admitted Grimoult.

  “ True enough. Ah well, I had better be on my way, Father needs me this morning and I had better not keep him waiting.”

  “ I shall see you tomorrow,” said Grimoult before he retreated into his house and closed the door. Talvace moved around to the cart and pushed down on the handles, tilting the cart level, ready to set off.

  “ Might be sooner than tomorrow if my master’s plan works out,” he said and with a grunt shoved the cart, to head back towards the church with the drained and emptied corpse.

  Chapter Five

  Kathryn Dromgoole opened one eye, which immediately closed. She tried again, blinking both her eyes open until her sight focussed and she was able to keep her eyes wide. The room came into view, bathed in the light from the still burning candles dotted about the bedroom. Kathryn watched the steady flickering flame of the one across from her, a tall thick, red candle, placed on an ornate, black stand. With a slight grunt, she twisted around and there was Samael Thaindire’s face besides her, his eyes closed, his white hair falling across his brow. With a smile, she reached out and brushed the hair back but Thaindire did not stir. Kathryn sat up, her black hair loose about her shoulders and yawned. She stretched her legs and felt an ache in her thighs and in between them too, testament to the vigour by which she had saddled Thaindire, pinning his arching body to the bed as she bucked atop him, revelling in taking him to new places of pleasure that had hitherto been denied to him. Kathryn flexed her thighs again; savouring the protest her muscles made at the movement and then swung her legs over the side of the bed. She rose, her naked body shivering in the morning chill but she made no attempt to dress. Instead she walked to the full-length mirror positioned in the corner of her room and stood before it, admiring herself. She lifted her left hand and let it glide down from her right shoulder, from where Thaindire’s mouth had bitten her during their repeated love-making the night before. He had left no mark but even if he had, it would have been easily dealt with. Her hand swept along her slender right arm and then across to her stomach. She paused, letting her palm press on her smooth, flat stomach before raising her hand to cup one of her full breasts, just as Thaindire had done. She bit her lip in recollection of the witch hunter’s eagerness to bed her, once her bewitching of him had taken a full hold, rendering useless any instilled resistance and shattering his indoctrinated chasteness. Intoxicated by her fragrance of desire, he had made love to her often through the still night, her moans drifting through the inn until he fell to the bed, spent and satiated.

  Removing her self-appreciative gaze, Kathryn looked back to the sleeping Thaindire. He lay on his front, the scarred white of his back, contrasting with the scarlet of her bed sheets. His scaled tail flopped to the left, now limp and seemingly lifeless as the witch hunter slept, unaware he was being watched by Kathryn’s cold blue eyes. Thaindire shifted slightly, moving his right arm from underneath him and laying it stretched out to his right, revealing the bandage wrapped around his forearm. Kathryn moved to the dressing table, which was cluttered with several score of glass bottles, containing the variety of perfumes, which she had concocted. She ignored the perfumes, her hand reaching for a tall, slim bottle with an elegant glass plug atop it. Plucking it up, Kathryn held the bottle before her, shaking it slightly from side to side, causing the thick white liquid within to surge against the sides and then recede leaving a meniscus agains
t the glass.

  “ Now I have his white blood, they will do as I demand,” she said quietly continuing to stare at the precious blood. She carefully replaced the vial on the dressing table and stood at the foot of the bed, towering over the slumbering Thaindire.

  “ And since I have you now, Samael Thaindire, they dare not defy me either,” she stretched out a hand and sought out his calf beneath the red sheets and squeezed it. There came no reaction from Thaindire, caught in the deep sleep of one who had been exhausted and also firmly entwined in the enchantment generated by the perfume that Kathryn had applied.

  “ Twas fortunate you met with Harriet, my sweet man,” said Kathryn to the oblivious Thaindire, “ the soaking she gave you and the season’s chill, left you open to my suggestions. Well, that and a little help from an elixir too. But you sleep, my beautiful fellow, for your strength will be needed. You have much to provide.”

  Somebody knocked at her door. Kathryn walked to it.

  “Who is it?” she asked.

  “Kathryn, it’s me, Tianna.”

  “What is it?”

  “Let me in. I want to see.”

  Kathryn shook her head and unlocked the door. Opening it slightly, she peered through the gap to see Tianna Lovelorn’s grinning face looking back at her.

  “Come on, let me in,” she pressed and pushed the door. Kathryn admitted the bookbinder and closed the door after her. Tianna glanced at Kathryn’s naked body, but neither woman showed any embarrassment.

  “I don’t have to try hard to know what you were doing last night then do I?” smiled Tianna. Kathryn arched an eyebrow and remained silent.

  “Is he good?”

  “Oh such enthusiasm,” smiled Kathryn.

  “Did he know what to do?”

  Kathryn playfully slapped the bookbinder on the arm.

  “Of course. They do know what to do, you know, they just aren’t allowed to do it,” remarked the landlord’s daughter.

  “Where is he?”

  Kathryn stepped back allowing Tianna to walk forwards along the small corridor into her room. Her brown eyes widened as she looked on the white blood as he slept.

  “He is rather handsome, isn’t he?” said Tianna.

  “Oh yes and passionate, if you know how to kindle the flames of course,” answered Kathryn.

  “You are lucky, Kathryn. I thought you might have sent word to me and we could have shared him.”

  “Not this one, he belongs to me,” said Kathryn.

  “Surely he belongs to the village, that’s what Father Thomas says,” countered Tianna.

  “Father Thomas did not enchant him. I did.”

  “Yes but, his capture is supposed to be for us all, not just one person. That’s why I have brought this,” answered the woman. She pulled a bag around from her side and reached in to produce two large vials, handing them to Kathryn.

  “What are these for?”

  “His white blood.”

  “No.”

  “What do you mean, no? He isn’t yours to keep Kathryn,” said Tianna.

  “I said no, Tianna. He is mine.”

  “That’s not what we all agreed. Aftlain above all. Remember?”

  “Listen, I want him, I got him, he is mine,” asserted Kathryn, her voice rising.

  “Look, all I want is a couple of vials of white blood. I bet you have some already, haven’t you?”

  Tianna looked over to the dressing table and saw the bottle containing the witch hunter’s precious essence.

  “See? Just as I thought. You are being greedy,” said Tianna.

  “Tianna, no.”

  “It’s too bad Kathryn, you might have opened your legs for just him, but his veins are to be opened to us all. That’s the right way. I only want two vials’ worth, he will have plenty more for you.”

  Tianna reached to her bag and produced a slim, sharp dagger. She leant towards the unaware Thaindire and reached to draw back the red sheets so she could select the best place to make an incision.

  “Tianna, he is not yours, aren’t you listening to me?”

  “Hush Kathryn, he is ours.”

  Kathryn smashed one of the vials on the mantelpiece and thrust the jagged glass into the neck of Tianna. The bookbinder gasped as the glass pierced her skin. She twisted, lifting her hand to her neck as the first spurt of blood pumped from the wound.

  “What have you done?” she said as blood spilled between her fingers and she dropped the dagger, bringing her other hand around in a futile attempt to stem the flow.

  “I warned you. He is mine,” said Kathryn as Tianna sank to her knees, blood gushing from the wound. She toppled over and lay unmoving, eyes staring wide as the blood continued to flow from the injury.

  “Red blood is no good,” remarked the landlord’s daughter as she pulled a sheet from the bed and threw it over the murdered woman.

  A sudden tapping noise at the window caused Kathryn to start. She moved to the window and yanked back the curtain, allowing the grey of the morning to permeate into the room. Perched on the window cill was a small dark grey creature. It was a couple of hands in height, with four spindly limbs and its face was narrow, ending in a pointed chin, the face flanked by two large, tapered ears. Its skin had a strange sheen to it, as if it was wet. A pair of delicate wings protruded from its back, the skin of the wings very thin and translucent. Two red slit eyes looked at Kathryn before the creature motioned with two of its limbs in an upward fashion. The landlord’s daughter reached for the frame of the window and shoved it upwards, the icy air from outside this time causing Kathryn to reach for a gown that was slung over the back of her chair.

  “ Yes, what is it?” she asked the creature as she slipped her arm into the sleeve and wrapped the fabric around her.

  “ Good morning, “ said the creature politely, “ Antigonia has granted you an audience.”

  “ When?” asked Kathryn slipping her other arm into its sleeve and then tying the cord about her slim waist.

  “ Now,” came the short reply. Kathryn nodded.

  “ What is your answer?” asked the winged creature.

  “ I shall be there in no more than ten minutes.”

  “ I shall convey your reply forthwith,” responded the creature in its formal tone.

  “ Jolly good,” said Kathryn. The creature stood up and its wings flapped rapidly before it took off into the air and darted with particular speed away to the left of the inn.

  “ No time wasted there then,” remarked Kathryn as she pulled the window closed. Turning round, she saw Thaindire lying in the same position, the rising and falling of his back all that denoted that he was still alive.

  Kathryn dressed promptly and exited the inn a few minutes later. There was already the familiar bustle of activity on the southern-side of the square by the stalls and she gauged it to be at least mid-morning. She watched as Gregory the gravedigger pushed his cart across the square, something hidden beneath a blanket on top of the cart. Without giving the matter any further thought, Kathryn walked eastwards, towards the seamstresses’ home. Pulling her cloak about her, she reached the forest edge and crossed the rough track, which led away to the fields to the east. Rather than skirt the square and the forest, she walked into the trees and picked her way through. This section of the forest was not as dense, nor as impenetrable as the forest that ringed the village, instead being a part, which merely separated her side of the square from Antigonia’s residence. Kathryn clutched the bottle of white blood in one hand and in her other, she held the top parts of her cloak together as she strode through the trees emerging onto a manicured lawn, edged by painted white stones with a fountain set in the centre of the lawn. She paced across the grass as four creatures, similar to the one, which had summoned her minutes earlier, flitted about in the sky just above her, but she paid them no attention.

  “ She’s here, she’s here,” the creatures chorused as they darted around Kathryn. Arriving at the front door, she pulled at the handle attached to the
chain and a bell tinkled. She smiled to herself, wondering why she always rang the bell, since Antigonia knew it would be her, but then, why have a bell and nobody to ring it? One of the creatures landed on the step to her left. It folded its arms, tilted its head and regarded Kathryn for a moment before speaking.

  “ Have you brought it?” it asked.

  “Of course,” answered Kathryn.

  “I can’t see it.”

  “ That’s because it is under my cloak.”

  “You’ve forgotten it haven’t you? Idiot girl,” hissed the creature, its polite, clipped tone, vanishing.

  “It’s here, worry not,” remarked Kathryn and waved the glass vial in front of it.

  “ I can take it for you,” the creature reached out two clawed hands for the bottle, its eyes wide and fixed on the white blood.

  “I don’t think so,” said Kathryn with a disapproving look as she whipped the vial away from it.

  “It would be my pleasure,” continued the creature.

  “I am sure it would.”

  “ No inconvenience at all.”

  “I am fine, thank you.”

  “ I am here to serve, as I am sure you know.”

  “ No services today, thank you very much.”

  “ In all honesty, it would be an honour to carry it for you. Please. Please let me.”

  A second creature swooped down and alighted on Kathryn’s hand. It bent over and reached out, clawing at the vial. Kathryn snatched it around its middle with her free hand and flung it at the door.

  “ Fuck off,” she yelled. The creature slammed into the door and dropped down onto the step where it lay crumpled.

  “ Give it to me! Give it to me! Give it me you slut, come on, you don’t deserve it, we all know how you gathered it, it isn’t fair,” demanded the first creature as it hopped from foot to foot, waving its arms above its head. Kathryn glanced over her shoulder as the third of these spindly creatures darted towards her. She ducked and it flew past, managing to halt its flight to hover in front of her.

  “ Ignore him, he has no manners. Allow me to ease your burden,” it said smoothly, giving a little bow.