Empire of Fear

by Brian Stableford

  ‘Tell me the truth,’ said his mentor, softly, it is not the lessons of scripture and history which trouble thee, but pity for the vampire. Beauty is only glamour, Noell, and it is a most deceitful magic.’

  ‘So Langoisse has told me,’ Noell replied, ‘and I would that I believed it. But I cannot feel it, and when I have seen poor Mary hurt, and heard the laughter of that evil Turk to see Langoisse at his labour of torture, I cannot believe that any Lord looks down upon this house, nor that any scripture can tell us what to be and what to do. We must find our own way, Quintus, and I do not know how to do it.’

  ‘Pray for the maid,’ Quintus instructed him. ‘And if it soothes thee, pray for the vampire too. Satan’s minions were angels once, and it is not beyond doubt that they might yet be redeemed. Above all, perhaps, we should pray for the pirate, for his is the soul in greatest hazard of damnation, which might yet be turned toward salvation.’

  But Noell had not the opportunity even to pretend to pray, for the abbot came hurrying at that moment into the library, all flushed with troublesome excitement, to tell them both that armed men were riding toward the abbey. They came not from the town, he said, but along the rough road from Lampeter, and to make things worse, they had black friars riding with them.

  ‘Does the pirate make ready to fight?’ asked Quintus, quickly.

  ‘Aye,’ replied the abbot. ‘’Twas his man saw the company from the bell-tower, and now he plans an ambush – though he has but a handful of pistols against their muskets and their pikes.’

  ‘He is a fool!’ complained Quintus. ‘He must run, if he can.’

  Quintus spoke rapidly to Noell, who was stunned, momentarily unable to rise from his seat. ‘Do not show yourself,’ he commanded. ‘Make ready to go to the town, where you must find safe hiding – and stay away from the pirate, if you can.’ Then he rushed from the room.

  Noell came slowly to his feet, and made as if to follow him, but felt that he was not one whit nearer to knowing the direction in which he ought ultimately to go.

  NINE

  Noell went to his room, going up by the back stair and intending to make his exit the same way. His plan was to gather up his things, and then return to the church, where he might make an exit on the north side from one of the chapels. He already knew the names of people in the town who would hide him, if only he could reach and cross the river without being seen and chased. Quintus would come to him there, when it became safe for him to do so, but there was little chance of his ever returning to the abbey, if the black friars were coming.

  He had barely finished his packing when the door of his room burst open. He turned, half-expecting to see Leilah, but it was only the girl who served the gypsy as a maid. Her dark eyes were wild with fear.

  ‘My mistress sent me to thee, Master Cordery,’ she said. ‘She asks that thou shouldst hide me, and see me safe through the fighting.’

  Noell had had his fill of pleas for help, but this was a little child. Leilah had not told him how she came to have the maid with her, but Noell guessed that she had been a slave in the Arab lands, like Leilah herself. On a sudden impulse, he said: ‘Come with me, then, for there is no safety here.’

  The child nodded, trustfully, and Noell led her from the room. But in the corridor without, they met Langoisse, who had also come to look for Noell. The pirate was surprised to see the little girl by Noell’s side, and paused to smile before he spoke, apparently amused by the coupling.

  Noell seized the chance to speak first. ‘You must hide, Langoisse,’ he said, anxiously. ‘The monks will protect you, if you give them the chance.?

  ‘Nay, Master Cordery,’ the pirate replied. “Tis time, I think, to repay the good monks for the hospitality they’ve shown me. This is only a captain and six men trailing a brace of Dominicans, come on casual business, I don’t doubt. I’ve twice the men and the advantage of surprise; what’s more, I need their guns and powder. Where were you planning to go, pray tell? I’d thought that you’d rather guard the lovely vampire than this little chit, or art thou like a child thyself, e’er fickle in thy loyalties?’

  ‘Come with me, Langoisse,’ said Noell, urgently, I’ll guide your men as best I can across the fields. Heilyn will meet us tomorrow, and we can hide until the appointed hour. A fight can only bring disaster on us all.’

  But Langoisse shook his head. ‘Too little shelter in those fields,’ he said, ‘and they stink besides. The riders are too close by now, and will see us if we try to flee. You might escape, under cover of the commotion which we will cause, so go if you must, and go safely. But you’d fare better with me, if you’ve the courage to stay, than in this drear country of the Welsh. You’ll only find freedom in a foreign land, or on God’s high seas where the vampires fear to go. Stay in this land, skulking in cellars, and someone will surely betray you, for thirty guineas or less. Wales has more than her share of men so poor they’d sell their mothers for half such a wage.?

  ‘You’ll bring disaster here,’ repeated Noell, as Langoisse turned to go, but he realised as he said it that the pirate had brought disaster with him the moment that he crossed the threshold, and that the taint of his passing could not easily be scraped away. More murders would increase the record of his crimes, but little good could be done now even if Langoisse agreed to stay his hand.

  I must go to Quintus, thought Noell, putting aside his former plans. He must come with me, and we must remove the forbidden books from the library. The Dominicans will come in force if their men are killed, and the monks must flee in their turn, to seek sanctuary for themselves.

  He went to the rear stair, the little girl running behind him for want of anything else to do, so that when he reached the foot of the flight he had to command her to wait by the door. She could not go into the cloister.

  In the inner court he quickly found Brother Martin, but before he could open his mouth to speak the monk begged him earnestly to go back and fetch the almoner’s boys away from the outer court, to bring them to a gathering in the church.

  Noell hesitated, beset by indecision, but guessed from what Martin said that the monks knew full well what Langoisse intended, and had no need of his advice. Still, he turned back towards the brewhouse to do as he was asked, thinking that he would surely find Quintus in the church when the whole population of the abbey was gathered there.

  In the brewhouse he found two boys crouched by the barrels inside the door, watching the courtyard in apparent fascination, not in the least concerned to retreat. Noell had to touch them on the shoulders before they even knew that he was there, and they did not show the least inclination to follow him. Before he could begin an argument he heard the clatter of hoofbeats on the road, and saw one of the black friars riding through the open gate, having apparently come on ahead of the rest of his party, perhaps to instruct the abbot what provision should be made for the visitors.

  Noell’s heart sank; it was too late now to carry forward any plan. He stood as if rooted to the spot, staring out into the courtyard where the tragedy was beginning to unfold.

  The horseman looked around, and seemed somewhat vexed to find nobody about. Noell hid himself by the lintel of the brewhouse door, and knew that a dozen others must likewise be hiding, waiting for the rest of the approaching men to come into their trap.

  The Dominican let out a loud ‘Hallo!’ as he turned his horse on the cobblestones.

  It was clear that the lack of a response would alarm him as much as the sight of something strange, and Noell judged that it would be necessary to distract the man, or the trap could not be properly sprung.

  To his surprise, he saw a man in monk’s robes hurry from the gateway to the inner court. For just a moment, Noell thought it was Brother Steven, but then he realised that it was one of the pirates, whose natural baldness made it appear that he wore a tonsure. The imposture was effective enough to let the man go to the standing horse, and take its rein. The scowling Dominican, annoyed but expecting no trouble, began to dismount. Th
e pirate came round to his side, then let go the horse and grabbed the friar around the throat, as if to throttle him as he dragged him away.

  The Dominican was no weakling, and clung fast to the horse’s rein, trying meanwhile to claw away the arm at his throat. The pirate was still groping beneath his robe for a weapon, and could not immediately free it from the folds of his habit. While the two of them staggered drunkenly about in the courtyard, the second friar rode through the gate. He caught up his reins immediately, seeing what was happening, and promptly set up a clamour of warning.

  On the instant, the pirates swarmed from their hidey-holes, those with pistols hastening to the gateway to fire at the men-at-arms. But their ambush had misfired, and only the captain had actually ridden into the open gateway. He was felled by a bullet, but the men in the road outside had leapt from their horses, and in the shelter which the beasts provided were making haste to load their guns. Most of the shots fired at them must have hit the horses, and probably did the cause of the pirates little good, for it made the animals rear and screech in alarm, and kept the attackers from those they sought to slay.

  Noell could not see much of what was happening beyond the gate as the pirates hurried out, but the clash of steel told him that the two parties had quickly come too close for firearms to be used. The battle was now commenced with swords and knives. He had heard only one of the muskets fire.

  Within the courtyard he saw that Selim had grabbed the second friar by the leg, and was wrestling him down from the saddle. The Turk was too strong by far for the Dominican, who could not resist the tugging, and fell heavily. From the way that he landed Noell guessed that his skull was split.

  The Turk then ran to help the pirate who was dressed as a monk. The disguised pirate had at last freed his dagger, and was trying to stab the friar he was holding, but the friar had let go of the horse’s rein and was avoiding the blade by pulling his attacker round and around, as though they were infants prancing in some merry game. With the Turk’s aid, the pirate had the friar down and mortally hurt in a matter of seconds, and then they turned to join the mëlée beyond the gate.

  The two boys, more excited than afraid, rushed forward to see what was happening, and Noell, after a moment’s hesitation, hurried after. When he arrived by the gatehouse he saw Langoisse trading blows of his sword with a helmeted soldier, while another of the men-at-arms was holding a group of four at bay, which he was able to do for a while only because none of the four had a blade as long as his own. Two of the soldiers lay seemingly dead and three of the pirates also, with two wounded horses also down, but the other two men-at-arms had already ridden away, with two pirates on captured horses in hot pursuit.

  Looking along the road after them, Noell judged, confidently, that the fleeing soldiers would reach the bridge before their pursuers, and he could also see that it would matter little if they did not. The whole affair, taking place on the brow of the hill, had been seen from afar by other travellers on the road, and he knew that a cry of alarm would be carried from voice to voice all the way to Cardigan Castle.

  Noell seized one of the gawping boys, and shook him, telling him to go quickly to the church and tell the monks to ring the bells furiously, to summon help. There was no hope now in the pretence of ignorance; the monks must enter the lists in opposition to their unwelcome guests. Which meant, of course, that he must flee, and Quintus too. They dared not go to the town now, but must go north as quickly as they could.

  He looked back at the battle, and saw that Langoisse had outfenced his man, and wounded him badly. The four pirates who were at the other soldier had managed to get within his guard, though he had cut one of them badly. The men-at-arms had carried only the lightest armour, and did not seem to be hardened fighting men. The odds were too heavily against them here at the gate, and Noell understood that but for the accident of bad timing, Langoisse’s ambush would have been successful. As it was, the killing had achieved no purpose.

  Langoisse, the elation of his victory in the duel seeming to override the knowledge that the ambush had failed in its real purpose, shouted to his men to collect up all the spilled guns, and everything else which was of use. He did not spare a moment to attend to his own stricken men, but went to the captain who had been shot in the neck, and began rifling the bloody corpse. Noell watched him from a distance of five yards, unable to tear himself away.

  When the bells began to ring out their emergency call, which would bring the whole town to arms, Langoisse looked up as if in alarm, but then he smiled, and caught Noell’s eye.

  ‘Here’s vampire’s mead, then, Master Cordery,’ he called, showing Noell a hand all gory with the captain’s blood. ‘To us, alas, ’tis food for the spirit only.’ He paused to look down at a red-stained paper which he had pulled from the captain’s pocket. He stared at it for a few seconds, and then began to laugh. He looked again at Noell, and hurled the paper at him. The wind caught it, spilling it at Noell’s feet.

  ‘’Twas not for me they came at all,’ cried the pirate. ‘I told you that the world’s fair full of men who’d sell their soul for thirty guineas. It’s a warrant for you, Master Cordery, for youl I believe I’ve saved your life, though it’s damn near cost me my own. A stupid price for a vampire-loving scut, no doubt, but 'tis paid now and the alarum’s raised; so flee we must, though the land lies fairer for the hunters than the prey.’

  Noell picked up the paper to look at it, and saw that Langoisse was right. The captain had come to arrest him, having set off in the first instance from Monmouth. He must have collected the Dominicans from Brecon, having reported there a denunciation which touched upon the loyalty of the monks of Cardigan. Someone must have given information against him in England, he knew.

  A dread thrill of fear went through him as he wondered whether his mother was safe, and Kenelm Digby, and the others who had brought him out of London. There was no way to know, just now, what the true scale of the calamity might be. He looked at Langoisse, who was facing the other way, shouting again to his men.

  When the pirate turned back, he saw immediately the expression in Noell’s eyes. ‘Look to yourself, Master Cordery!’ he said, loudly. ‘You would not fight for me, and I’ll not take you into my charge now. Take the scholar monk, and the little girl if you care enough for her welfare, and make your own way to Heilyn’s boat. If Wellbelove can’t catch you, you may beg me to take you aboard and save your skin. I’ll find out then what stores of mercy are laid up in my heart.’

  With this, the pirate ran through the gate. Selim, who had waited for him, grabbed the rein of the horse upon whose back the first friar had ridden intemperately in, and followed.

  Noell turned to go about his own belated business, determined that he must find Quintus, and hoping that Quintus would know what to do.

  TEN

  Quintus was not in the church, though most of the monks were there, seeking the consolation of prayer, apparently with more ardour than conviction. Nor was the scholar monk to be found in the library, although the trapdoor to the cellar was open, and the abbot was in the room below, gathering books into a satchel.

  Noell came down into the room where, it seemed to him now, he had spent so little time, not well-enough used.

  ‘Should I take these books?’ he asked the abbot, and was startled when that gentle monk rounded on him, red-faced with anger.

  ‘To what safe place would you take them, Master Cordery?’ he demanded. ‘These things are precious, and will go with Brother John, to Strata Florida, where the Cistercians may care for them. I must forbid you to go with them. I am sorry for that, but I can think only of the safety of the True Church. You must go your own way now, and soon. If they catch you, I beg that you will not tell them you were ever here.’

  ‘And Quintus?’ asked Noell. ‘Where is Quintus to go?’

  ‘He would not be safe when the Dominicans come,’ replied the abbot. ‘Whether he may go to another house, I cannot say, but I dare not trust these things to him. I h
ave sheltered him while I might, but all is changed now, and it is best for him to go to Ireland, or further still.’

  Noell had never seen the abbot like this, and had fallen into the habit of thinking of Quintus as the true authority here. Now he saw that Quintus was merely at the forefront of certain dealings which the abbey had with the corrupt world outside. The world within the abbey, where the rule of poverty, piety and peace held its own dominion, was and always had been the abbot’s, and the abbot was determined to do what he must to preserve from destruction by the black friars.

  ‘Do you know where Quintus is?’ asked Noell.

  ‘Look in the dormitory,’ the abbot replied. ‘And then the kitchen. He will be making ready for his journey, as you must make ready for yours. You have less than an hour now before they come from the castle. You must go to Heilyn, if you can, to warn him that he might yet be caught in this net of ill-fortune.’

  Noell went to the dormitory, and then to the kitchen, but nowhere was there anyone who had seen Quintus.

  The girl whom Leilah had sent to him was still waiting by the almonry, where he had left his pack, and she looked up hopefully when he came back that way. He had not seen Leilah at all, but could not pause to wonder where she was. It was Quintus he wanted. He remembered one place where he had not looked, and he ran swiftly to the penitentiary cells, where the Lady Cristelle and Mary White were confined.

  There, at last, he found his friend. Quintus was in Mary White’s cell, standing over her body. Martin and Steven were with him, and all three were murmuring a prayer. The poor girl’s throat was cut from ear to ear, and dark blood had cascaded over her dress. There was no sign of her murderer.

  Noell remembered that he had said, once, that it might be safer if Langoisse did kill her. He turned the twinges of his own guilt into spite against the pirate, and cried Murderer! in his mind, though he made no sound to disturb her meagre requiem. Then he went to the other cell, whose door stood ajar. He looked inside, but the vampire lady was gone, carried away while she was lost in her fathomless sleep.