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

by Mark G Heath

“ I am returning to the apothecary to arrest Thorne.”

  Grizel said nothing, instead sprinkling salt across his meal and then reaching for a knife, began cutting one of the bulging, brown sausages.

  “ You have nothing to say?” asked Vindicta as he scooped up a spoonful of mushrooms.

  “ I leave this matter to you. Why the urgency, don’t your injuries pain you yet?”

  “ A little, but clearly your ministrations had their desired effect, despite my reluctance. However, as they, have aided my recovery, that is a sure sign that it was intended, so that I may further my Order’s purpose in this village.”

  “ By arresting Thorne?”

  “ Yes, she must account for her actions. It is clear that she engages in witchery and most troubling of all, she imprisoned, tortured and sought to murder a brother witch hunter. Too long has she been able to act freely and without consequence. Well, that ends this day.”

  “ She may not surrender to you.”

  “ She may have no choice. As I explained last night, I left her unconscious in the basement of her dwelling. She may still be in such a state or if conscious once again, unlikely to be in a position to offer much resistance, she is but a twig of a lady.”

  “ In more ways than one,” replied Grizel before thrusting a piece of sausage into his egg, causing the yolk to burst and ooze over his plate.

  Vindicta ignored the remark and continued eating.

  “ What do you propose doing with her, should your arrest prove successful?”

  “ I shall bring her here, to be kept in bondage until such time that Sanctus and I can return to Lancester. We shall have her tried before the Order.”

  “ You do realise that Michael’s recovery will take more than a few days? Bringing the village’s apothecary to my door will prove to be an inflammatory act to the rest of the village. I cannot countenance her within these walls.”

  Vindicta remained silent, chewing on his breakfast as he considered this response.

  “ You have proven an ally to my Order, both in sheltering me and now Sanctus. Accordingly, I could not impress on your further.”

  Grizel nodded.

  “ You should make haste to Lancester with Thorne as soon as you hold her captive.”

  “ I cannot leave Sanctus.”

  “ You can do nothing for him here.”

  “ No, he needs me.”

  “ Not at this time he does not. You are better placed returning to your Order with Thorne. He is perfectly safe with me.”

  Vindicta halted his eating and looked squarely at Grizel. He followed suit and returned an impenetrable gaze to Vindicta. After a few moments, Vindicta broke the stalemate and returned to his breakfast.

  “ Very well, I shall seize Thorne and then make good my departure to Lancester and my Order.”

  “ A wise decision. Now tell me, how do you propose to get there?”

  “ Well it won’t be on foot, not with so much snow on the ground.”

  “ Quite. The Widow’s Way will become impassable if much more snow falls.”

  “ I will need a mount.”

  “ Or a carriage. It would be easier to carry a bound Thorne in a wagon or carriage. A wagon would be too slow, but a carriage, well, a carriage pulled by four expensive stallions, that would be a different proposition altogether.”

  “ The Manfurians?”

  “ The very same. Their carriages are parked at the top of the church lane, beyond the churchyard. One driver keeps a lonely watch over the horses and no doubt will be numb from the cold. Unlikely to pose much resistance.”

  “ I am obliged for the indication,” said Vindicta.

  “ Merely redressing the balance.”

  “ Do you have any rope that I might use?” asked Vindicta as he finished the last of his food and reached for his goblet to wash it down.

  “ Oh, I can do better than that.” Grizel pushed his plate away, leaving a few leftovers and made his way to a set of drawers by his bookcase. He pulled open the third one down and reached inside. He carefully extracted two slender pieces of braid, both coloured gold.

  “ I know she is of slender build, but they won’t hold a child.”

  “ Care to try?”

  “ Show me,” replied Vindicta and he rose from the table, joining the sorcerer by the fireplace. He held out his hands, which he placed together. With surprising speed, he wrapped the first golden braid about the witch hunter’s hands and when the two ends touched, they melded together until his hands were held tight. Vindicta strained, trying to pull his wrists apart. He grunted as he exerted himself, muscles in his arms tensing as he sought to escape his captivity. He let out a gasp.

  “ Very impressive. You can free me now.”

  Grizel touched the braid with one finger and muttered something, which was unintelligible to Vindicta. The braid separated and he was able to part his hands.

  “ Now, all you need to do it touch the ends together once you have her held. You won’t be able to undo it though without my help, so she will remain bound.”

  “ That is no matter. She will remain bound as she burns.”

  “ Very well.” Grizel passed the two strands of braid to Vindicta who took them and looked at Grizel.

  “ No, they won’t work on me,” smiled the sorcerer.

  “ It was just a thought.”

  “ And a poor one at that.”

  “ I must make myself ready.”

  Grizel nodded and moved to clear away their breakfast plates, leaving Vindicta to return to his bedroom.

  Once there, he laid the two pieces of braid on the bed and regarded them for a moment. Yet again, he found himself embracing the ways of Grizel. He ought to steer clear of such trickery, yet, he had only acted in Michael’s interests so far and he needed to ensure that Thorne was bound. He knew that witches needed to have their hands free to weave their evil magic, so keeping her in bondage was paramount.

  “ Another means to an end,” muttered Vindicta. He lifted the chain mail off its stand, giving a slight grunt at its weight and lifted it over his head. Shaking himself from side to side, he managed to slide his arms through and then bring them around, to pull the rest of the chain mail down, so it covered his middle and groin. He shifted about in it, swinging his arms and flexing, letting the metal skin fit into place. He was pleased to note that he felt no pain where it rested on his bruises. He then selected the mail coif and placed it over his head, leaving his face exposed, but providing another layer of linked metal pieces to protect his throat and neck. He then walked back to the main living area.

  “ Grizel, I need your assistance with my greaves please.” Grizel rose form his seat by the fire and assisted Vindicta fitting the greaves to his forearms and both the front and back of his thighs and calves, his thin fingers fastening the straps and clips. Finally, he slid on his gauntlets, the banded metal reflecting the low firelight in the room. After some time, for the process was not a straightforward one, Vindicta stood fully armoured.

  “ Sword?” commented Grizel.

  “ I must speak with Sanctus before I leave.”

  Vindicta clanked his way back to the bedroom. Stiffly, he lowered himself to one knee besides the still sleeping witch hunter.

  “ Michael, wake up, it is me, Gabriel.” He reached out a gauntleted hand and gently shook his brother witch hunter.

  “ Gabriel?” said Sanctus weakly.

  “ Yes, I am here.”

  Sanctus opened his eyes and focussed on Vindicta.

  “ Gabriel. Then, it was not a dream,” a slight smile played across his mouth.

  “ No, not a dream, you are safe now.”

  Sanctus gave a slow nod. His eyes flickered and he saw Grizel stood behind Vindicta.

  “ Who is he?”

  “ This is Grizel, remember? He tended to you yesterday. He will watch over you and aid your recovery.”

  “ You are not staying? Good, you must summon our brother witch hunters here as soon as you can.”

&
nbsp; “ No, I must bring your tormentor to justice before the Order and summon our brother witch hunters to come to this place while you grow stronger.” Vindicta expected Sanctus to protest but he merely nodded.

  “ You are most safe here Michael, it is a place of sanctuary. I nursed Gabriel after I brought him here.”

  Vindicta nodded in affirmation.

  “ Go my brother, arrest the witch and have her judged,” rasped Sanctus and he placed a shaking hand on Vindicta’s gauntlet by way of reinforcement.

  “ I shall ensure that she answers for her most grave offences against you Michael.”

  Vindicta returned to his feet and watched as Sanctus closed his eyes once more, the smile remaining on his lips.

  “ The hope you give him shall provide his restoration,” commented Grizel.

  “ I will provide deliverance, not just hope,” said Vindicta firmly. He lifted his sword from its hanging place and buckled the belt around his waist. Pulling it tight, he adjusted the scabbard before picking up the two lengths of braid and tucked them into his belt. Finally, he selected his azure cloak and spread it behind him, fixing the clasp about his neck. Once complete he nodded to Grizel. The sorcerer turned and led the way back through the living area. As he reached the entrance to the porch, he halted and turned to Vindicta.

  “ I can cast a spell of protection over you, it will aid you in your capture of Thorne.”

  Vindicta held up his hand.

  “No, that will not be necessary. I am more than a match for this witch. She will be the first of many to fall in this village. Once I take her to the Order and she is tried, the Order will need no convincing to deploy many witch hunters to come here and purge the village of the witchery and foulness that abounds.”

  “ I do not doubt your devotion to such a task. This village will resist your Order though.”

  Grizel opened the porch and the cold air beyond was noticeable immediately. He approached the sturdy front door and after a wave of his hand and some utterance, he turned the key in the lock and gripped the handle. He seemed about to add something but thought better of it as he turned the handle and opened the door. Vindicta pulled alongside him, halfway out the house.

  “ Thank you Grizel, your assistance to my Order will not go unnoticed, despite the path you walk.”

  “ It is only the fulfilment of maintaining the balance, nothing more.”

  “ Have a care for Steadholder Sanctus and bring him to strength swiftly, for we need him.”

  “ I shall indeed Master Vindicta, he will be fully restored by my hands.”

  Vindicta gave another nod and stepped outside onto the snow-covered path. Promptly, Grizel closed the door, locking it once more.

  “ I shall fully restore him,” he continued, “ for he shall prove of great use to me whilst he so recovers.” He waved his hand once more before the door and then with a shiver, turned away to return to the living area and its warmth.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Sir Simon Pennant strode through the unbroken snow as he made his way through the graveyard. As on the previous day, one of the dark-robed pilgrims kept a watch from the elevated doorway into the church. On Sir Simon’s entrance to the churchyard, the pilgrim disappeared into the church.

  “ Good morning Sir Simon,” called a voice to his right. He turned and saw Gregory Talvace smoking a pipe as he leant against a bare tree, the grey branches covered in snow.

  “ Ah, Gregory, good morning to you. Tell me, have you seen Father Thomas this morning?”

  “ Can’t say I have,” answered Talvace as he walked across the churchyard to meet the waiting knight.

  “ I was waiting on him for my daily chores. I won't be doing much digging with this all about,” he continued, kicking at the snow.

  “ No, quite. Have you been in the church?”

  “ No, I wanted a smoke of my pipe and Father Thomas does not like me doing it in the church, so I was just waiting out here for him. What do you want him for?”

  “ A matter of governance in the village.”

  “ I see. When’s this er, governance taking place?”

  “ Well if Father Campion emerges from wherever he is hiding in the next five minutes, straight after that. If not, this Novac fellow will deputise for him and we shall be straight down to the village.”

  “ Mind if I come along?”

  “ Not at all.”

  Sir Simon continued along the path towards the church with Talvace walking alongside him. As he neared the steps up to the entrance, Novac appeared on the top step, one of his pilgrims behind him.

  “ Ah, good morning Sir Simon.”

  “ Good morning pilgrim Novac, might I find Father Thomas in the church?

  “ I am afraid not, I was rather hoping that you might be able to enlighten me as to his whereabouts,” replied Novac, tugging his robes around him as if he had just got dressed.

  “ No, I can’t help you there. Neither can Gregory, can you?”

  “ No, I haven’t seen him since yesterday,” confirmed the gravedigger.

  “ Confound him,” muttered Novac, “ Have you searched the village for him?”

  “ Why would we do that?” asked Sir Simon.

  “ To find him.”

  “ That’s not our place. He will make himself known when he chooses to. He must be about some matter of importance, no doubt tending to one of his worshippers. In any event, we knew we could rely on you to stand in stead, following our conversation yesterday.”

  “ Yes, yes, indeed. What is it you will have me do?”

  “ As a holy man, it is you who must pronounce the charges against one accused of demonic behaviours. My brother has drawn up the charges and will hand them to you. We will accompany you to ensure that he submits to the charges and is taken under arrest. If he resists, allow my brother and I to subdue him that is our role, not yours.”

  “ I see. Who is the accused?”

  “ Samael Thaindire is his name. He is an outsider and recently arrived in the village. It is evident that he has come to disrupt its good order with his unholy behaviours.”

  “ Thaindire? Where will we find him?”

  “ He resides at the Last One Inn. We have posted a watch on the inn and he has not emerged from it and thus remains ensconced there. It should be little matter to bring him forth and have him taken to our keep.”

  “ Where is that?”

  “ You need not concern yourself with that, pilgrim. Your role is to read the charges and allow him to respond before he is taken under arrest. You will have further work to perform at his trial, well, you or Father Thomas, most likely him as I am sure he will have appeared by then. And with respect, he is more experienced in trial matters than you.”

  “ Certainly, I have no difficulty with that.”

  “ Excellent, shall we proceed?”

  “What now?”

  “ Yes, we have delayed long enough in bringing this man to account.”

  “ Very well.” Novac turned and whispered to his acolyte who nodded and returned into the church. Novac walked down the steps to the waiting knight and gravedigger.

  “ My driver is just being fetched,” explained Novac.

  “ You are welcome to ride behind me,” offered Sir Simon.

  “ No, no thank you,” replied Novac. The men fell silent until a smartly dressed man emerged from the church entrance and hurried down the steps. The four men walked to the churchyard entrance where Sir Joshua sat waiting on his steed.

  “ Father Thomas remains absent,” explained Sir Simon.

  Sir Joshua nodded.

  “ Pilgrim Novac will read the charges.”

  “ Has he done it before?”

  “ I can read you know,” said Novac.

  Sir Joshua plucked a scroll from beneath his cloak and leant downwards to hand the charges to Novac.

  “ There are several and there is no rush. Make sure everyone can hear.”

  “ As you wish.”

  Novac turned to
wards his carriage as his driver clambered atop it.

  “ I will hitch a ride with you if I may?” said Talvace to Novac. The archpriest stepped inside the carriage and firmly closed the door behind him.

  “ Or maybe not,” conceded the gravedigger.

  “ You may walk alongside us, Gregory,” said Sir Simon. Gregory nodded. They allowed the archpriest’s carriage to lead, its black wheels cutting into the snow but not managing to find the track beneath. The two knights cantered behind, with Gregory walking briskly besides them as they headed for the village.

  Benjamin Dromgoole stood sweating after he had lifted into place the third barrel of the morning. He dabbed at his flushed, round face with a piece of cloth and prepared to insert the tap into the barrel of Golden Mountain. He had bought a consignment of this ale, brewed in the Elant foothills using water from the Toran Peaks, when last in Lancester. He had sampled a couple of flagons and found it to be delicious and sure to be popular with his patrons. He had already replaced the barrels for Gray’s Wobbler and The General’s Horn and was glad that this was the final barrel. The thud of a fist on the door of the inn caused him to shout

  “We’re closed!” before he dabbed at his brow once again. The knocking came again.

  “ Beatrice! Beatrice?” he shouted for the serving girl but there came no answer.

  “ Where is that girl?” asked Benjamin as he lifted the hatch on the bar and walked around through it.

  “ She has her hands full upstairs, father,” explained Thomas Dromgoole as he walked in from the kitchen.

  “ Doing what?”

  “I don’t know.”

  The knocking came again, louder and with greater urgency. Benjamin ambled to the window and peered out.

  “ Who is it?” asked Thomas.

  “ The Brother Knights and that Manfurian priest,” replied Benjamin as he spotted those attending outside his inn.

  “ What can they want? Those two don’t drink here.”

  “ Tom, go and tell your sister that the knights and the priest are here.”

  “ Why? Has she done something?”

  “ Just do it. Now,” ordered Benjamin. He stood by the door and waited until his son had disappeared up the stairs before he drew back three heavy looking bolts on the door and turned the key, which sat in the lock. Pulling open the door, he was glad of the cold air against his warm face. Stood in front of him, shrouded in black was the priest who had arrived by carriage a few nights previously when Benjamin and his patrons watched from the windows of the tavern. Besides him, dressed in full armour was Sir Joshua with a serious expression on his face. Behind the pair, Sir Simon sat on his horse looking down at the landlord. He saw Gregory and a couple of other villagers, Pula Thetrane and Petre Wheelams, stood behind the priest.