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

by Mark G Heath

  “ What were they?” asked Novac, being the first to find his voice.

  “ Homunculi. They are the alchemist’s helpers. They must have seen his abduction and followed him here,” explained Campion.

  “ Shall we pursue them, your eminence?” asked Tsangarides.

  “ No. Grimoult has received our message. There is nothing more to convey to him.”

  “ Very good, your eminence.”

  “ They could be very useful,” mused Novac regaining his composure and looking down at the fallen body of the first acolyte.

  “ Juren, remove Ssenkrad,” he ordered. The Underpriest and the second acolyte took hold of their slain brethren and carried him out of the study, leaving behind a trail of blood.

  “ I must confess I have never seen them do that before,” remarked Campion.

  “ Nobody has taken Ilberd from his home before, against his will,” said Strivelyn.

  “ It is done now and he shan’t forget what he needs to do.”

  “ He may not continue with his work after that,” said Campion.

  “ Then it will be your throat ripped out, or worse, if he does not,” threatened Novac.

  “ Yes your eminence.”

  “ Campion, I need to change my robes, where are my rooms?”

  “ You are to have my rooms, I shall show you to them.”

  “ Good. I shall change and then begin my preparations for the Philtre. You will have much to occupy yourself I should imagine.”

  “ Indeed, your eminence,” replied a chastised Campion.

  “ I will go and help Tsangarides,” said Strivelyn anxious to be away from both Novac and Campion. The sexton left the study, leaving the two holy men and the two blood maidens.

  “ Do not fail me,” said Novac and he strode past Campion to the doorway. Campion waved for the blood maidens to follow. He looked around at the bloody mess in his study.

  “ I hope to Selne that Alyssia has had enough time to extract some more whiteblood,” he muttered and with that he too left the study.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Alyssia Thorne turned the page of the book just as she heard the thudding noise. With a sigh, she set the book down, keeping it open at the page that she had reached and walked to the heavy curtain, which hung in the archway, separating her living area from the shop front.

  “ Who can it be this time?” she asked aloud. Alyssia pulled the curtain aside, allowing the brightness of her well-lit lounge to light up the store. She looked towards the door but she saw nobody through its glass panels.

  “ Who’s there?”

  Several thuds came from the door by way of response, causing Alyssia to frown.

  “ Who is it?” she asked, wary in case Lancaster had returned with dangerous intentions.

  The thuds came again and still she could see nothing that was making the noise. Alyssia reached to the shelf nearest to her and plunged her hand into a bowl of yellow powder. She grabbed a handful with her left-hand and edged to the front door, keeping her left hand behind her back. Alyssia pressed her face against a cold pane to look out into the night. She glanced down and gasped as she saw the homunculi gathered around a bundle of robes. The apothecary dropped the powder instantly and hastily unbolted and unlocked the door. Opening it, the orange light bled outside revealing Grimoult lying on his back, the homunculi all stood around him.

  “ What’s happened? Grimoult?”

  The alchemist moaned and raised his hand, showing the bloodied stump of his index finger.

  “ Bring him through, take him into the back,” instructed Alyssia. The homunculi immediately hoisted up their injured master and carried him through to the rear of the apothecary, laying him down on a rug next to the fire. The tiny men stood in a protective ring, their silver eyes looking at the stricken alchemist. Grimoult lay unmoving, his wounded hand down by his side. Alyssia burst through the archway, a small box, a pot and some cloth clutched against her chest. She tugged the curtain back across the gap and turned to the group. The homunculi parted, enabling her to kneel down beside Grimoult. She let her wares fall to the rug as she lifted his hand, regarding the still bleeding stump.

  “ Ilberd, can you hear me?” asked the apothecary. Grimoult gave another moan. Alyssia tore open the top of the box and reached in with two fingers, scooping out a fine, blue powder. She dabbed this onto Grimoult’s wound, the powder turning purple as the blood soaked into it. Alyssia reached back into the box and took out another scoop of the powder and applied this second amount. Tearing a strip of cloth, she bound Grimoult’s hand, the white cloth staining purple as the mixture of blood and powder leaked onto it. She continued wrapping the cloth around and around before tying the end and tucking it in. The homunculi stood by, watching impassively as Alyssia opened the pot and took out what looked to be several, narrow and yellow dried leaves. She leant closer to Grimoult’s head and then spoke to the homunculi.

  “ Sit him up please.” The tiny men did as instructed, propping their master up.

  “ Here, Ilberd, chew these, they will dull the pain,” said Alyssia as she pushed a couple of the leaves towards the alchemist’s mouth. He allowed her to push them into his mouth and he chewed slowly, his expression wrinkling as the bitter taste filled his mouth. He opened his eyes, his expression glazed and he then swallowed.

  “ A couple more,” said Alyssia, placing two more of the leaves into his mouth. She waited as the alchemist consumed the leaves. His eyes appeared to gain more focus as he looked about the room.

  “ Has that helped?” asked Alyssia. Grimoult gave a slow nod.

  “ What has happened? Who did this to you?” asked the apothecary, pointing to Grimoult’s now bandaged hand.

  The curtain billowed as if a gust of wind had blown against it and Alyssia heard the entrance door close. She jumped up as the curtain was pulled aside and Campion stepped into the room. The homunculi which held Grimoult, pulled the alchemist back a few feet away from the entering priest, whilst the remaining eight formed a barrier between their master and the holy man. Seeing the homunculi form ranks, Campion halted his advance and caused Alyssia to give him a quizzical look.

  “ Thomas, do you know what has happened to Grimoult?”

  “ Yes, he has paid the price for displeasing Arch Priest Novac,” replied Campion haughtily.

  “ And you can keep those things on a leash, Ilberd, or I will tear them to pieces.”

  “ Stay away from me Campion,” said Grimoult, finding his voice once more.

  “ What is going on?” demanded Alyssia perplexed.

  “ The Manfurians have arrived in the village,” began Campion.

  “ Yes, I saw their carriages go by earlier.”

  “ Quite. Well we have had to provide an update to Novac and he was unhappy with the lack of progress exhibited by our master alchemist here.”

  “ He chopped my bloody finger off and it is all because of you,” retorted Grimoult jabbing his bound hand towards the priest.

  “ It’s only a finger, you can grow one back or something can’t you?” said Campion dismissively.

  “ Thomas, poor Ilberd was in agony when his helpers brought him here,” said Alyssia.

  “ He’ll be fine, we have more pressing matters to attend to,” answered Campion. He took a step forward and the homunculi bristled.

  “ Hadn’t you better get home and make haste with your preparations for the elixir old man?”

  “ Didn’t you hear a word of what I said up there? I can’t do anything until I have more Lucerne berries. They are the central ingredient for the elixir,” said Grimoult.

  “ Leave the matter of the white blood and the berries with me, that is why I have come to see Alyssia as a matter of urgency and importance. Come now, away with you and start your work. Your wound has been treated, you can continue.”

  “ Stay if you wish, Ilberd, you have clearly suffered quite a shock as well as your injury,” said Alyssia.

  “ No, I would rather be in my own home, t
hank you Alyssia, I don’t care for some of the company here.” Grimoult motioned to the homunculi who gathered around him and hoisted him up, still in a sitting position.

  “ I will get the door for you,” said Alyssia. She pulled the curtain aside, allowing the homunculi and Grimoult to pass through.

  “ Don’t forget, Ilberd, much work to do. You don’t want to have to go before Novac again do you?” cried Campion to the departing alchemist.

  Campion heard Grimoult and his underlings depart, the door closing after them and once more secured. Alyssia stepped back into the warmth of the lounge with an accusing expression on her face.

  “ What did you tell Novac that made him do that to Ilberd?”

  “ He wanted to know where the elixir was. I told him it wasn’t ready because Ilberd had not completed it. Novac chose to punish him. He is not a man to disappoint, believe me.”

  “ Well he spoke the truth. He needs the Lucerne berries from me. He asked for them two days ago but I have not been able to grow any. Am I to be taken before Novac and leave less of myself than when I arrived?”

  “ Not if you grow the berries, no,” said Campion. “ When can you do it?”

  “ I need white blood.”

  “ I know that. Go and get some then.”

  “ From where?”

  “ What do you mean, from where? The usual place. Downstairs. Come on, let’s go and extract some now and I will watch you commence the growing of the berries, so I am sure everything is happening, as it ought. I need to check that there is sufficient white blood for both the berries and for combining with the essence from the gems. Novac has ordered an update from you concerning the white blood, this very night.”

  “ Gardener now are we?”

  “ No, overseer actually. Come on, why are we standing here?” said Campion waving his arms at Alyssia as if he were trying to drive cattle.

  Alyssia stood and stared at the priest, her mouth set firmly as she considered what next to say.

  “ Fine. You want to extract some more, then come with me.”

  “ Good, now we are getting somewhere,” replied Campion.

  Alyssia walked away from where the two of them stood before the fireplace and stopped in a far corner of the lounge. She reached down and rolled back a rug whilst Campion looked on. The removal of the rug revealed a trapdoor set in the floor. Alyssia gripped the iron ring and hauled the trapdoor open. A set of wooden steps led down into a basement, which was already lit by lantern light, a yellow-orange glow emanating from below. Alyssia descended the steps and Campion followed, stooping to avoid striking his head on the frame of the trapdoor. The worn, wooden steps led into a large basement, a number of wooden pillars supporting the floor above. The basement floor was dry, crimson earth, which bore the grooves of where people had walked repeatedly; creating furrows and small rises, resulting in an undulating appearance. Some shelving had been erected ahead of them, the shelves cluttered with receptacles made of wood, metal and glass, but Campion and Alyssia paid them no attention. Instead, the couple turned at the bottom of the steps and walked towards the centre of the basement. A solid, wooden frame had been built, roughly ten paces in length and three in width. Two lanterns were position at the head of the frame, the light illuminating the occupant of the frame. Attached to the frame, by metal anklets and wristlets, was a thin, weak-looking body. The thick, iron clasps almost appeared excessive given the vulnerable appearance of the body lying on the frame. It wore only a loincloth, its emaciated chest on display, the pale, white skin tight across the chest bone and rib cage. The chest rose slowly as the body inhaled the dry air of the basement. A thin straw mattress had been placed under the body, to alleviate some of the discomfort of lying on the wood and a pillow was lodged under the back of the head, long strands of white hair spilling over it. Inserted in the left forearm of the figure was a slender piece of silver metal, which pointed downwards and led to a very thin silken thread. The thread stretched diagonally until it ended at another piece of the slender metal. This was inserted into the neck of glass bottle. Periodic drops of a white liquid clung to the silken thread, although they were not static, moving almost imperceptibly towards the glass-collecting container. Campion looked anxiously at the bottle and saw that it was about a quarter full of the shining white liquid. The supine figure turned its head towards the priest and the apothecary, a pair of dulled blue eyes staring at them. A slight murmur rose from the figure but it could not speak as his lips had been stitched closed. Campion moved closer and the murmuring grew louder but no words could be heard.

  “What’s he saying?” asked Campion.

  “How in Albion would I know?”

  “Cut the stitches I want to talk to him.”

  “Are you sure? I closed his mouth to shut him up. All I could hear was him praying to his god. Over and over. He did not call for help. I suppose he realised none would come. Instead he sought salvation from his god. He is certainly devout.”

  “Yes, I want to hear what he has to say. If he starts the prayer chanting just stitch him up again.”

  “If you insist,” replied Thorne. She walked over to the captive figure and a sharp thorn sprouted from her finger tip. She placed it near the man’s mouth and flicked it across, snapping the thread that had been used to stitch his mouth.

  “ What do you demons want with me now?” rasped the figure.

  “ What we always want, witch hunter, your blood,” answered Campion.

  “ As you can see, he has deteriorated considerably, “ she said.

  “ He is very much alive.”

  “ Only through my work,” said Alyssia pointing to several red coloured patches placed on the figure’s right arm.

  “ Remove them witch and let the One True God take me, but know this, you will burn for your witchery,” said the figure.

  “ Your god has deserted you, Sanctus. Why do you think you have remained down here? He has abandoned you to us.”

  “ You will be met with judgement soon enough foul priest,” replied Sanctus, a flicker of rage adding brightness to his eyes for a moment.

  Campion snorted. He motioned towards the bottle set beneath Sanctus.

  “ There looks like a suitable amount of white blood there for Novac. How much will you need for the growing of the berries,” he said. Alyssia shook her head.

  “ It isn’t enough and the amount he is producing is rapidly declining. If I try to take any more, too quickly, he will die.”

  “ You won’t succeed, my Order will soon arrive at this cursed village and call you all to account for your wickedness,” said Sanctus.

  “ Your Order is ineffectual and merely provides us with more white blood to aid us in our task,” said Campion.

  “ Hollow words priest, I know you for what you are and you will soon perish on the end of a holy blade.”

  “ Really? Wielded by whom exactly? You? Or perhaps Master Thaindire? He has fallen under a spell of enchantment and breaks his oaths this very hour. Or will it be Master Vindicta who fled at the first sign of opposition? No, no blade will be seeking me out, Master Sanctus,” replied Campion.

  “ Even if what you say bears any semblance of truth, we are many, others will come.”

  “ Let them come!” roared Campion suddenly, “ let them come and I shall drink deep of their precious blood, indeed we shall gorge on it as one by one they fall beneath our might.”

  “ You speak with conviction foul priest, but your eyes betray you, they shall come and you shall fall. We are too great a power to resist.”

  Campion opened his mouth to reply but Alyssia interrupted him.

  “ Enough Thomas, this sparring serves no purpose. I have shown you that this witch hunter is nearly of little use now, certainly if this Arch Priest Novac wishes to progress matters with such haste that results in Ilberd being maimed.”

  “ Can't you lop his arm off or something, to get more out of him?” asked Campion frustrated. Alyssia placed an arm on Campion and steered him away
from Sanctus.

  “ No, that won’t work, the quantity of white blood within him is low and his weakened state means that he is not replacing the blood that is being extracted, quick enough. Moreover, I fear the quality will not be great. In this condition the efficacy of his white blood is likely to be much diminished. I have tried to improve his condition, bolster his health, but it is almost as if his will is preventing me from doing so and he is bringing about his own demise. He seeks to frustrate our purpose by willing his own death,” she said quietly.

  Campion rubbed a hand across his face.

  “ Novac demands progress. Immediate progress.”

  “ We will get enough blood from Sanctus, but not at the speed Novac demands. Can you not persuade him to wait a while longer?”

  “ No, he is an intransigent man. He has spoken and it must be so.”

  “ The we must acquire it from a different source,” said Alyssia.

  “ What do you have in mind Mistress Alyssia?” asked Campion.

  “ Come, let us go back upstairs.”

  Campion turned to Sanctus.

  “Any noise from you witch hunter and Alyssia will stitch those lips tight once more. Do you hear?”

  “You cannot silence the word of the One True God. The clarion call from his words will deafen you and shatter your ears,” replied Sanctus. Campion laughed.

  “Shall I silence him?” asked Alyssia. Campion looked at the witch hunter.

  “No, it might lift his spirits a little if he can talk to himself and improve the white blood. Only shut him up if he gets out of hand.”

  Sanctus lay staring at the ceiling whispering a righteous prayer to the One True God almost appearing oblivious to his situation.

  The pair walked towards the stairs and began to ascend them.

  “ It will be soon for you both, judgement will be soon,” called Sanctus after them as they left him to his captivity and returned to the living room.