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

by Mark G Heath

  “ We will take him for our purposes,” said Novac as he marched down the sloping lane, the tightly packed trees lining his route down to Tallow Bridge. His three acolytes soon joined him. The trio had run to catch up with him. They slowed to their master’s pace, glad of the reduction, their breathing loud from the run through the snow.

  “ What are our orders, your eminence?” asked Tuelsin.

  “ We are to subdue the white blood.”

  “ Yes your eminence,” said all three dutifully.

  “ And anyone else who seeks to intervene.”

  “ By your decree,” confirmed the acolytes. They unclipped the heavy maces from their belts, the black metal cruel, ready to crush and gripped the shafts of the weapons in readiness of the battle to come.

  Vindicta walked along the alleyway. He saw nobody ahead; although the footprints in the snow denoted that somebody had passed this way before him. He could hear a faint sound, the striking of metal on metal and assumed the smith was already hard at his work. As he moved along the alleyway, he realised that the sound ought to be louder and more rhythmic. This noise was intermittent ; several clangs then a pause, then a couple more and another pause. It was the clashing of swords. He quickened his pace, armour rattling and emerged onto the road, which led from the village to Tallow Bridge. He looked left and saw a number of villagers stood facing towards the bridge. The sword fight was louder and clearer now, the metallic rings punctuated by cries and a growling noise. Vindicta drew his long sword and made for the crowd, drawing alongside the apothecary. He glanced and saw two villagers helping an armoured figure into the apothecary. It appeared there was a casualty of this fight already. He pushed a villager aside, causing the man to issue a cry of protest which promptly faded when he saw the armoured Vindicta making his way purposefully onwards.

  “ Out of the way,” said Vindicta. The crowd turned to see who was issuing such an instruction and parted promptly enabling Vindicta to reach the front of the crowd. There, on the brow of the bridge, he could see two figures locked in combat. The one nearest was slender, wiry even and moved with elegant grace as he twirled and slashed with a sabre. Vindicta recognised him as Captain Reznik, the man who had pursued him until Grizel’s timely intervention. Vindicta gave a grim smile, he could exact revenge on both Reznik and Thorne this day. He uttered an oath to the One True God as he looked at Reznik’s opponent. He was taller than the black uniformed man, had a shock of white hair flowing from his head and wielded a familiar looking long sword.

  “ Thaindire?”

  Beside Vindicta, a woman with long, black tresses of hair struggled with two villagers who held her by the arms.

  “ Let go of me,” she demanded as she fought to free herself.

  “What’s going on?” wondered Vindicta aloud, thoughts of arresting Thorne momentarily cast aside. Vindicta looked at the sapphire set in his pommel and saw it glow bright blue. He looked up at the twisting woman as she tried to bite the hand of one of her captors.

  “ Keep hold of that witch or you shall answer to me,” said Vindicta pointing before he headed for Thaindire and his opponent.

  Reznik evaded another sweeping blow from Thaindire yet the witch hunter showed no sign of tiring as Reznik tried to deliver a telling blow. He slipped slightly on the snow and his sabre fell short of marking the witch hunter. Thaindire’s tunic bore two slash marks where Reznik had cut him, his white blood trickling across the blue material, but the wounds were minor and did nothing to hamper him. Thaindire thrust at the captain who neatly jumped aside and then slammed his sabre into Thaindire’s side. The witch hunter staggered backwards and Reznik grinned as he saw his opponent was hurt this time. Thaindire put his hand to his side and looked at the bloodied palm.

  “ Have to do better than that,” retorted the witch hunter.

  “ If you insist,” answered Reznik. Six imps materialised, three either side of him.

  “ Time to finish you,” sneered the mercenary as his growling underlings formed a semi-circle, looking to engulf Thaindire. An imp leapt at him and he batted it away with his left arm, the imp flying through the air, only to twist and land on its feet.

  “ Samael!”

  Thaindire heard his name being called but was preoccupied with the encroaching imps who were slowly moving in on him, jabbing the air with their talons, trying to cause him to act first. Reznik, being a yard or two behind the imps, had time to turn to the source of the shout.

  “ Vindicta?” said the mercenary in disbelief.

  “ Reznik.”

  “ How on earth are you here?”

  “ I’m here to finish you Reznik, as I should have done before, were it not for those unholy creations,” said Vindicta pointing at the imps.

  Suddenly, Thaindire gave a shout and ignoring the attention of the imps, he burst forward at Reznik. The captain was startled and just about managed to raise his sabre and twist the long sword away. The force of Thaindire’s attack was such that the off balance Reznik tottered back towards the wall of the bridge. Vindicta advanced on the mercenary as Thaindire attacked again. Down came his long sword in a chopping motion and Reznik met the assault with his own blade. He could not halt Thaindire's stroke but only reduce its impact. The long sword cut into his shoulder and he bellowed in pain. The six imps had followed the sudden acceleration of Thaindire and now climbed over him. Two made their way up his back, ascending his cloak, whilst two each clambered up his legs. One sunk its teeth into his thigh and the witch hunter began to fall towards the bridge. Reznik looked up as Vindicta bore down on him. Reznik had his back to the wall, the falling Thaindire was to his right with the imps swarming over him. Reznik saw Vindicta readying a strike. He lashed out first, his sabre swept round in a broad arc to try and keep the second witch hunter at bay. The tip of the sabre grazed against the chain mail worn by Vindicta but did not cut into it. Reznik had over reached himself with his frantic swipe, the savage cut to his shoulder having affected his timing. He faced sideways onto the bridge and was off-balance. Vindicta raised a booted foot and with a grunt slammed it into the side of Reznik’s torso. He bumped into the wall and with a yell, he pitched over the side of the bridge.

  Immediately, on seeing their master knocked off the bridge, the imps ceased their assault on Thaindire and pelted towards the wall of the bridge. Without hesitation, they followed one another, all six, jumping straight over the wall, an arc of imps, which blurred through the air as they plummeted after Reznik, leaving behind only the fading sound of their snarls.

  “ Samael, are you badly hurt?” asked Vindicta moving to the side of his brother witch hunter. He could see repeated slashes of his tunic, on both torso and arms, thin scratches beneath which delicate lines of blood formed. The wound in his side looked of greater consequence.

  “ Get away from me,” spat Thaindire, taking Vindicta by surprise and he took a step back.

  “ Samael ? It’s me, Gabriel Vindicta, a Steadholder of the Order, like you.”

  “ Samael, help me, help me!” shouted Kathryn from behind Vindicta.

  “ I know who you are, a false judge who has set himself above men and by which has them laid low.”

  “ What are you talking about Samael, I am a brother witch hunter. I was sent here, like you, to bring our Order’s judgement to this nest of evil.”

  “ I have no Order.”

  Vindicta frowned utterly puzzled by his brother witch hunter’s behaviour. He heard the girl shouting again, urging Samael to kill him and the villagers.

  “ Stand aside.”

  “ I will not,” answered Vindicta, “ you are Steadholder Samael Thaindire and you will do your duty to your Order or I shall judge you now.”

  “ I renounce the Order,” said Thaindire viciously “ And I shall destroy you.”

  Thaindire launched his long sword towards Vindicta who parried the blow. Still uncertain as to what had become of Thaindire, he was loath to strike him and opted to buy some time and merely defend himself. No such cons
ideration applied to Thaindire who lunged at Vindicta, his strike caught Vindicta’s leg greave and marked the metal but did no more than that. Vindicta swatted away another swipe, before Thaindire hacked viciously at him. Long sword met long sword, the finely crafted steel clashing together as the two fought one another. Thaindire swung a roundhouse blow and crashed his blade into the side of Vindicta. His mail held, but he felt a sharp pain and staggered. Encouraged, with Kathryn shouting for Thaindire’s assistance, the enchanted witch hunter made at his colleague once again. A cut to the left was parried and then a swipe from the right was knocked aside. Vindicta could see several black robed figures approaching from the other side of the bridge, although he did not recognise them.

  Thaindire pressed forward once again, hacking and slashing and each time Vindicta met the blows with his own defence, parrying and blocking. Thaindire aimed a chopping blow to Vindicta’s right shoulder, which Vindicta managed to deflect only for Thaindire to spin round and land another blow against Vindicta’s already injured side. The strength of the assault knocked the wind from him and he doubled-up, fighting to stay on his feet. Thaindire yelled and Vindicta looked up to see Thaindire thrusting his long sword straight at him. Reacting instinctively he brought his sword round and chopped at Thaindire. The blade sheared clean through Thaindire’s forearm, lopping his hand off. The enchanted witch hunter gave a scream of pain and clutched at the stump, a spurt of white blood jetting from the end as he dropped to his knees. Vindicta grabbed Thaindire’s long sword and staggered up, holding both blades before him.

  “ Samael!” screamed Kathryn, still held by two villagers.

  “ Stop ! By Manfur, I command you to lay down your arms!” yelled Novac as he and the three acolytes trotted over the hump of the bridge towards the two witch hunters.

  Manfurians ! Worshippers of darkness. Vindicta pointed his blade towards the approaching men.

  “ By the One True God, iucidium sanctum !”

  A bolt of blue lightning erupted from the blade and leapt across the bridge. It slammed into one of the acolytes and he fell dead, to the ground. Novac mumbled something and thrust both his hands forward, palms facing forwards. Vindicta gave a startled cry as he was launched backwards. He flew through the air a good twenty yards and landed on his rear, in a seated position before the assembled villagers, with a thud, the snow breaking his fall to a degree.

  Vindicta rolled to his side and pushed himself into a standing position. A spasm of pain shot through him from the injuries inflicted by Thaindire. Vindicta looked back to the bridge and saw two of the robed figures had taken Thaindire under the arms and they were dragging him backwards through the snow, back across the bridge. The girl in the crowd continued to shout to Thaindire who himself was howling in pain from the loss of his hand. Novac stood unmoving, waiting to see what Vindicta did. Vindicta waved both sword points at the crowd, warning them to keep their distance. The witch hunter noticed two horses stood by one of the statues that marked the beginning of the bridge. He moved towards them and the villagers, eyeing him warily shrunk back. Vindicta stood on the plinth of the statue as he scabbarded his own blade. Still holding that of Thaindire, he grabbed the reins for the horse and pulled it towards him. It gave a slight whinny of protest but he was able to clamber, if in a somewhat ungainly fashion, onto the horse. He righted himself on the saddle.

  “ Stop him!” shouted Novac from the bridge.

  “ Get out my way!” yelled Vindicta as he dug his heels into the flanks of Sir Simon’s steed. He looked to his right and saw a villager spring forward, his eyes glowing orange and his mouth open, a maw of sharp, crooked fangs. Vindicta shifted Thaindire’s sword from his left to his right hand and hacked at the advancing creature. He cut into its neck and it spun away howling, thrashing into the snow. A sound of hissing and snarling began to rise from those villagers, which still remained. He pulled on the reins and the horse backed-up, rearing, its front legs kicking out, slamming into the head of one villager knocking him to the floor.

  “ Stay back or die!” warned Vindicta. The horse dropped down and he issued a cry as it cantered forward. Another demonic villager tried to jump at him, aiming to land behind him but Vindicta slashed at the beast, causing it to fall away. The rest of the crowd parted as the steed gathered pace. There came a whistling sound an arrow sped past him. Vindicta gave a cry as an arrow nestled in his left shoulder, piercing his mail and breaking the skin. The wound was not a serious one however and did not prevent him from retaining the reins. He jerked on them, causing the horse to veer left as another three arrows flew past him, missing their intended target. Vindicta galloped down the road and reached the square, snow flying up behind the horse as he urged it on, with shouts and yells. Across the square he rode, his eyes focused on the gap in the trees ahead, which signified the beginning of the road out of this godforsaken village. Closer came the gap as he passed the well. There was nobody around this part of the village, just him, the horse and a steadily reducing distance to the road. Within a moment he had reached the village’s boundary and then he was on the Widow’s Way, azure cloak trailing behind him as he charged westwards away from Aftlain and its machinations. He clung onto the reins, trying to ignore the pain in his side as the horse, strong and fit, ploughed through the undisturbed snow. He glanced over his shoulder but there was no pursuit. He had escaped the village of Aftlain. Now he needed to reach his Order’s seat in Aftlain. He needed to return in strength and numbers to rescue Sanctus and, if possible, Thaindire, although he feared for his brother witch hunter having just been seized by the Manfurians. Onwards Vindicta rode, the grasp of Aftlain no longer able to hold him.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Novac ascended the steps to the church. Behind him, two acolytes dragged Thaindire between them as he half-walked and half-stumbled. The witch hunter held his bloodied stump out before him, white blood still dripping from the wound.

  “ Take him downstairs and have him put in one of the stores. I want two guards posted outside the stores and send for the blood maidens,” instructed Novac.

  “ Yes your eminence,” replied one of the acolytes before he hauled the semi-conscious Thaindire into the church.

  “ Fetch Tsangarides,” said Novac turning to the acolyte who had been on watch at the church entrance. He nodded and promptly disappeared inside. Novac looked back across the churchyard, but there was no pursuit. He would need to ascertain if the other white blood had been apprehended as he had ordered or whether the half-wit villagers had allowed him to escape the village.

  “ Arch Priest ?” asked Tsangarides as he arrived at the doorway, the guarding acolyte having returned with him. Novac paused a moment, catching his breath after the march up the hill. He looked and was pleased to see that Tsangarides had done as instructed and had the leather bag upon his person still.

  “ Admit nobody and I mean nobody, if anybody attempts to enter, kill them,” said Novac to the acolyte.

  “ By your order, your eminence,” he bowed slightly and took his post at the church door once more, his mace in hand.

  “ Tsangarides, good, come with me.”

  Novac entered the church and turned left marching along the end of the pews, beneath the windows. The church was empty, save for the two men. The altar now bore a Manfurian banner, the black cloth bearing the face-crescent of a moon and five stars in a semi-circle facing the moon. Novac headed through an archway and made his way down a flight of coiling steps before entering the large open dormitory where his brethren had been accommodated. Several acolytes had been seated, but they rose promptly with the appearance of the Arch Priest, each bowing as he passed them. He strode past the numerous beds towards the end of the room where a huddle of figures waited. On Novac’s nearing they all turned and bowed to the Arch Priest.

  “ Where is he?” snapped Novac.

  “ In here, your eminence,” replied Gaddoran indicating the door behind him.

  “ It is secure?”

  “ Yes. There i
s only this door. There is no lock, but he will have to get past us. There are no windows, your eminence.”

  “ Good. You two,” he motioned towards two of the waiting blood maidens.

  “ What are your names?”

  “ I am Methelda Ichor and his is Maigret Sanguine,” answered one of the elegantly attired women. The pair curtsied.

  “ Maidens Ichor and Sanguine, you are to tend to his wounds. Gaddoran and Kassine will keep a watch over you whilst you do so. Gaddoran, if he resists, subdue him, but do not slay him. Once the maidens have attended to him, you are to bind his hands and feet. He is to be fed and watered three times each day. A mattress and blankets are to be provided for him, but no torch or lantern, I don’t want him setting himself alight. In no circumstance should he be allowed to die or be killed. If you allow that to happen, you will be answerable to me,” said Novac as he swept his gaze across his acolytes and the blood maidens.

  “ As you wish, your eminence,” replied Gaddoran with a short bow. The blood maidens curtsied again in acknowledgement.

  “ He is a most valuable asset to our cause. Manfur has blessed us with his capture, to aid and further our most devout preparations.”

  “ May his darkness be absolute,” replied the two acolytes.

  “ Let me see him,” said Novac. Gaddoran opened the store door and cautiously pushed it open. A blood maiden raised a lantern and by its light, Novac could see Thaindire lying on his side on the cold, stone floor. The Arch Priest watched him for a moment and then entered the small room. The witch hunter was still, his cloak splayed out behind him as he gripped his stump with his good hand. His tunic was torn and slashed in several places, an accumulation of injuries at the hands of the various combatants that he had faced. Novac lowered to one knee, his chain swinging out below him and moved down towards the witch hunter.