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

by Mark G Heath

  “ Yes Juran?”

  “ Your eminence, Low Priest Derran and Acolyte Darmere have returned from the gem invokers.”

  “ Come forward,” entreated Novac beckoning the waiting duo with two gloved fingers.

  Derran and Darmere lifted the case onto the desk and carefully set it down. Novac regarded the to of them.

  “ What happened to your face?” he asked of Derran noting the bruising and swelling where Redway had landed his haymaker.

  “ I was punched by a villager.”

  “ Which one and why?”

  “ We had just left the home of Master Ringthane, with the case, your eminence. As we headed down the path we were halted by a large man wielding a hammer.”

  “ Who is he?” interrupted Novac.

  “ Your eminence, he gave his name as Ansell Redway.”

  “ Would you recognise him?”

  “ Most certainly,” said Derran as Darmere nodded.

  “ Very well, continue.”

  “ We commanded him to stand aside but he demanded to know what we carried. I refused to tell him and he gave threat to us. Since he would not yield, I had no choice but to attack him.”

  “ And he won?”

  “ Of sorts, your eminence. He managed to floor me and threatened to kill me, unless Darmere showed him the contents of the case. Acolyte Darmere, fearing my life, duly complied.”

  “ So you revealed the gem essences to this villager, knowing of their intrinsic value to our grand design?” asked Novac of Darmere.

  “ Your eminence, I had no choice, he had Low Priest Derran at his mercy,” began Darmere.

  “ Nonsense, you ought to have overcome this villager and ensured the successful progression of our cause,” shot back Novac, “ we cannot tolerate those not of our persuasion issuing demands to us.”

  “ If I may your eminence, Acolyte Darmere made the correct decision.”

  “ Well you are bound to say that when you faced having your head broken by his hammer.”

  “ Your eminence, this villager was several hands taller and wider than Acolyte Darmere and I. There was a risk he could over power the two of us and thus the case of essence would have been within his gift. In order to avoid this eventuality, Acolyte Darmere sought to acquire more time to make his move.”

  “ Thus you bested the villager?” queried Novac.

  “ In a manner of speaking, yes. Acolyte Darkmere showed the content of the case to the man and he wanted to know what the bottles contained. He gave an explanation and this Redway man realised that it came from the emeralds that had been part of the crown. At mention of the crown, he lost interest in the bottles and wanted to know where the crown was.”

  “ You told him?” asked Novac.

  “ I did, your eminence,” replied Darmere, “ He seemed far more interested in the crown than the essence, so I reasoned that telling him that the crown was with Master Ringthane might cause him to leave. That proved correct. He left us and set off towards the home of Master Ringthane.”

  Novac said nothing. He undid the straps on the case and opened the lid. The green light from the essence lit up his face. Novac picked up one of the bottles and stared at its contents, mesmerised by the spiralling, glowing essence within. He replaced the bottle and closed the lid of the case.

  “ You are most fortunate that this episode did not hamper our plans,” he said.

  “ Yes your eminence,” said Derran with a bow.

  “ You may leave.”

  Derran bowed again, joined by Darmere and the two men departed the study.

  “ Another step closer, Juran,” remarked Novac to his Underpriest.

  “ Yes, your eminence, let Manfur be thanked for watching over our number.”

  “ Indeed, his is the night and the darkness,” responded Novac.

  “ This man Redway, he is to be located and brought before me to answer for his assault on our church.”

  “ As you decree, your eminence.”

  “ How go the preparations?”

  “ Excellent well, the nether materials are nearly ready, everything will be in place come the morrow,” explained Tsanagrides.

  “ Good. What news have we of the elixir?”

  “ Your eminence, the alchemist has not been forthcoming with any elixir, so far.”

  “ But he has the fruits he requires to conduct his work?”

  “ Acolytes Tuelsin and Darkthane left this afternoon to deliver the white blood to the apothecary, Thorne and ensure her compliance in cultivating the Lucerne Berries, they were to then bear them to the alchemist and similarly attend to his co-operation.”

  “ The matter is in hand, then. Presently, send Acolytes Rowe and Garron to the alchemist’s home to bring me word. I wish to know exactly which stage our grand design has reached. Tuelsin and Darkthane must bring him here so we can…..encourage the old alchemist,” said Novac.

  “ As you wish your eminence, I shall dispatch the acolytes this instant.”

  “No, I must speak to our brethren, as we stand on the threshold of greatness. They will leave after I have addressed everyone. Assemble everyone in the nave, the villagers that arrived with the girl shall attend also.”

  “ Of course, your eminence.”

  Tsangarides began to walk away.

  “ Juran,” called Novac causing the Underpriest to halt in his stride.

  “ Yes, your eminence?”

  “ Where is Darkseid?”

  “ I believe she is atop the church tower.”

  “ Thank you, that is all.”

  Tsangarides gave a dip of his head and left the study.

  Novac placed a hand on the case and then fastened the straps once again. He unlocked a nearby cabinet and placed the case within, closing the doors and securing the cabinet once more. He left the study and swept across the church hall making for the steps that led up to the bell tower.

  Novac emerged into the cold air; a stiff breeze blowing about him, billowing his cloak as he saw the Nimastian stood staring out across the forest to the village beyond.

  “ Mistress Darkseid,” said Novac. She turned, her blonde bobbed hair shifting.

  “ Arch Priest,” she replied. Novac walked along the platform and stood besides the necromancer.

  “ Admiring the view?” asked Novac. He looked out across the forest; the treetops coated with snow and in the distance the various pillars of smoke, which rose from the chimneys of the village drifted into the sky. He turned and looked to the north, the only break in the seemingly endless ranks of trees, being the top of the Brother Knights’ Keep.

  “ Something like that,” she answered. “ It looks quite peaceful doesn’t it?”

  “ Yes, it does, as if it has no inkling of the uprising to come,” replied the Arch Priest.

  “ Ah yes. Will they be with us?”

  “ I cannot say, that is for Priest Campion to attend to, they are his disciples. They would of course be foolish not to and any that stand in our way will be crushed. I anticipate that they will not obstruct us. Campion secured their help in the grand design by explaining that our success would result in Aftlain being left well alone by the High Church. It may surprise you, that that is what most of this village wants; the right to attend to their works unmolested by the High Church. They have no interest in what is beyond this vast forest. Instead, they want to remain here, isolated, cloaked and left well alone.”

  “Well, since they have helped our cause, allowing that desire is hardly difficult. The fall of the High Church will bring about their wish, won't it?”

  “ Oh, absolutely. Yet, there is so much talent here and it could and should be used to further our aims across Albion. I remain hopeful that with our success, they will be coaxed from Aftlain to spread their wings and in turn further our cause. For instance, the gem invoker, Ringthane, he is of immense talent. I am intrigued to know what he might be able to achieve for us, by extracting the essence from the largest and purest gemstones that we will confiscate from the
High Church's vaults. I should imagine that there is a substantial power to unleash.”

  “Well, it seems to me that you ought to be persuading the denizens of Aftlain to join the crusade.”

  “Yes, I must impress this on Campion. He has them in his sway,” said Novac.

  “ Where is Priest Campion, I have not seen anything of him since I arrived here,” asked Darkseid.

  “ I have no idea. He will be in the village no doubt. I am surprised he has not been here sniffing around you Mistress Darkseid. He had better be organising his flock though and not falling prey to distractions,” said Novac.

  “ Have you not sent someone to find him?”

  “ No. We have too much to do to spend time searching for him. He will show himself presently, I am sure.”

  “ I could try and find him?” offered Darkseid.

  “ I would, with respect, prefer you to remain at the church.”

  “ If you wish. Tell me, what lies over there?” asked Darkseid. She extended her arm and pointed across to the conical rooftop that could be seen a distance from the raised bank of trees on the south side of the village.

  “ I don’t know, I am sure Priest Campion will be able to provide you with an answer though.”

  “ I flew over it on my way here. The forest is packed close against it, save some pool next to it. I hovered overhead for a moment, but I did not see anyone.”

  “ It may be abandoned,” commented Novac. He pulled his cloak about him and shivered.

  “ Are you not cold, stood up here?”

  “ No, I find it invigorating. Anyway, I am used to it. You can imagine what it is like flying up there,” she jabbed a finger upwards.

  “ Yes, far too cold.”

  “How are your works?” asked Darkseid.

  “ They progress well. I will be in a position to create the philtre within a few days and then matters rest in your hands.”

  “ Excellent.”

  “ Do you have everything in place. Mistress Darkseid?”

  “ Absolutely, everything I have is in here,” she tapped her forehead “ And in here,” she held her hands up, “ the only thing I need is your philtre to magnify my powers.”

  “ Is there anything you require then to make your stay with us more comfortable?” asked Novac.

  “ No, I am being well attended to, thank you, your acolytes are most accommodating I understand from the commotion I heard earlier that you now have the white blood in your possession?”

  “ Yes, an unexpected boon and provides us with assurance that we will not be disturbed.”

  “ The way is clear then, Nimast has granted us his favour,” remarked Darkseid.

  “ With Manfur’s blessing of course,” added the Arch Priest.

  Darkseid smiled and ran a gloved hand across the top of the stone of the bell tower.

  “ Have we received our orders once we have our troops assembled?” asked Darkseid.

  “ No. I am to communicate with our master once everything is ready and he will then impart his wisdom to us. Then it can begin. Then we can bring down the High Church.”

  “ It has been a long time to wait.”

  “ Yes, much has been done to bring us this far, but soon night will cover the land,” said Novac clasping his hands together. Darkseid nodded and remained looking out over the forest.

  “ I am to address my brethren, will you join us?” asked the Arch Priest.

  “ By all means,” said Darkseid.

  Novac descended the stone steps, pleased to be out of the chill breeze, the necromancer following him as her boots clicked on the stone whilst she walked behind him. They followed the spiral staircase back down to the church’s main hall and emerged to find nearly all the acolytes sat in the pews. The carriage drivers sat behind them, Lackland wearing a bandage about his eyes and with them, Novac was pleased to note Talvace and Strivelyn, the blood maidens and the group of villagers also sat waiting for Novac’s arrival. The congregation all stood as Novac entered their view and he waved a hand for them to resume their seats. They complied as Darkseid placed herself on the front pew, her long legs stretched out in front of her, a contrast to the acolytes who sat legs tucked beneath the pew, backs straight and heads raised upwards in expectation of what their Arch Priest had to say.

  Novac walked up the few steps into the pulpit and placed his hands on the lectern. He looked over the small assembly, contemplating how soon it would swell as their numbers increased. He stroked his silver beard with his right hand and addressed his followers.

  Palea Haspengoun peered around the tree. She had an unbroken view of the southern side of the church. The snow was undisturbed. She looked to her left and saw the hulking wyvern once again. She had witnessed it flying over the village a couple of days ago and she wondered who the rider was. It appeared to be asleep, coiled up, the carcasses of a couple of cows lying on the ground near to it. Cautiously, Palea advanced towards the churchyard’s perimeter wall, the snow ideal for muffling what little noise the quiet stepped assassin made. Once at the wall, she ducked down behind the stacked stones and waited. Lifting her head, the dark hood raised, she stared over the top of the wall. There was nobody in sight.

  She had made her preparations based on Thaindire remaining at the Last One Inn. She had been scoping the rear of the tavern, lurking within the stables when she had seen the white blood and the landlord’s daughter bursting from a concealed panel in the back of the tavern. Surprised by their sudden appearance, Palea had reacted with uncharacteristic slowness and her attempt to down Kathryn Dromgoole had failed and both she and Thaindire had run from the yard. The appearance of Sir Joshua had prevented any direct involvement. Instead, Palea had donned a disguise and cautiously followed after Sir Joshua. The knight had not noticed her, as he only ever looked forward, intent on catching the retreating Thaindire and Kathryn. Eventually, Palea had blended into the crowd of villagers and watched the battle on the bridge, waiting to see the outcome. She had remained observing impassively as the Manfurians intervened and carried the white blood away with them. Once the fight had ended and the crowd dispersed, she carefully made her way over the bridge and then, through the edge of the forest, slipping between the trees until she reached the perimeter of the churchyard. Ensconced there, Palea had observed various black-robed figures come and go and later the arrival of Kathryn, borne there by two of the villagers.

  Now, with nobody in view, Palea athletically hopped over the wall and sprinted for the church wall. She leant in against it, waiting, but her dart to the church had gone unobserved. The assassin moved along the wall until she reached the door set in the eastern wall. Carefully, she tried the handle and found it, as she expected, locked. She paused to ascertain if her turning of the handle had attracted any attention on the other side, but the door remained closed. She reached to her side and pulled from her belt a wallet, which she opened to reveal an array of lock picks. Quickly, she selected a torsion wrench and a half diamond lock pick, before tucking the lock pick set back within her tunic. Palea looked about herself and then set to tackling the lock; in a matter of moments she heard the gratifying click and returned the tools to their place. She turned the handle and the door yielded allowing her to nip inside.

  Closing the door promptly behind her, Palea surveyed her situation. She remained alone. She was in a fairly small room in which several blood-red robes were hanging on pegs. There was a table, which had several silver jugs and flagons balanced on a silver salver. A small window, high up to her left allowed light into the dim room and she saw two doors, one ahead of her, up a couple of steps and another to the right, on the same level as where she now stood. Palea crossed the room and up the steps to lean against the door ahead of her. She could hear the sound of a raised voice echoing and immediately shrunk from this door and made for the second portal. Again, she listened. The talking was barely audible and she lifted the latch on the door and peered through the gap. She looked into an empty corridor, which ran straight ahead but
also to her left. She stepped into it and could hear the distant voice as she could see in the distance an archway and beyond that figures on a pew. Taking a deep breath, Palea inched along the corridor, keeping to its shadows, making for the staircase she knew, from previous attendances as a faithful worshipper, lay ahead. The voice became louder and she hoped that those sat on the pew maintained their attention on the speaker as she reached the stairs and slipped into the stairwell.

  A movement in the corner of Darkseid’s eye caused her to turn her head towards the archway off to her left. A shadow had moved in the corridor, She looked back up at Novac who continued his address from the pulpit, hands raised above his head, fists clenched as she rose from the pew and walked to the archway. She looked into the corridor but saw nothing, save for the two lanterns hung on the wall, a guttering light seeking to dispel the dimness. Darkseid cocked her head but could not hear anything, although she was certain that she had seen some movement in the corridor. She looked towards the entrance to the stairwell and walked over, leaning through to look down the stone steps. Again she saw nothing.

  Palea reached the bottom of the steps and hugged the wall next to the doorway. She glanced back up the short section of steps that she could see, but it remained empty. She reasoned that the witch hunter must be kept below ground. It was the most secure, well as secure as holding somebody in a church could be. She knew that the open doorway led into a large, long room, which Campion had often used to accommodate those who visited his church, whilst he resided above, in much more elegant surroundings. There was also a set of six store rooms built in the depths of the church too, though she had never managed to get inside the store rooms, but imagined them only to be small and only accessed via their door. The basement was essentially bottle-shaped with the lodging area forming the bulk of the bottle and the corridor, which gave access to the storerooms, the neck. The cold air seemed to cling to her face as she listened for any sounds beyond the doorway. Everything remained silent.

  She allowed her hooded head to breach the doorway and in the lantern light saw several beds lined up on either side of the room. The room stretched ahead of her, then tapered inwards with two walls leading towards a reasonably narrow gap beyond which the storerooms lay. What caught her attention however was the three figures stood in the neck of the room, outside one of the doors. He must be in there, reasoned Palea. She lowered herself to the ground and then crawled on her stomach, keeping as close to the wall as she could, into the room. Soundlessly, she made her way to the first bed on the right of the room and slipped beneath it. She paused under the first as she heard a clicking sound coming from where she had just been. Palea stayed still underneath the bed, moving so she was lying lengthways with the bed, still on her stomach. Her right hand reached to the hilt of a dagger that was strapped to her leg and she waited.