by Mark G Heath
He burst out onto a platform and stopped himself as a blast of cold air hit him, a welcome change from the thick, cloying air in the church below. He was at the summit of the bell tower, the metal bell to his right, supported from a wooden scaffold and then a further stone roof above it. The platform extended all the way around the bell enabling complete access to it. A slight breeze ruffled Thaindire’s hair, cooling his perspiring brow as he caught his breath following his ascent. In front of him, in the corner of the southern and western part of the bell tower stood Campion, holding Kendra in front of him. She was naked, her slender body still glistening from their fornication. Campion had his right arm across her neck as he looked over her shoulder, twisted features sneering at Thaindire, highlighted by the lantern light.
“ Let her go,” urged Thaindire as he slowly placed the lantern on the platform floor and held out his left hand to the girl. He was surprised that rather than look terrified at being hauled up to this height and held by this demon, she appeared woozy as if under the influence of some charm or concoction. Her eyes glazed and a half smile played about her lips.
“ Stay where you are witch finder or she goes over the edge, “ hissed Campion.
Thaindire glanced to his left and down at the churchyard some distance below.
“ You’ve nowhere to go to demon,” replied Thaindire and took a step forwards.
“ No further or she dies,” warned Campion tightening his grip around her neck.
“ It is you I want Campion.”
“ So I see.”
“ Surrender yourself to my judgement in the name of the One True God,” declared Thaindire.
“ Or you will do what?” jibed the demon priest letting out a low hiss.
“ Or I will dispatch you back to the hell from which you crawled,” said Thaindire firmly.
“ Give me the girl,” ordered Thaindire reaching out again with his left hand.
“ Such heroics seeking to save this wretch,” commented Campion as he let his forked tongue dart out and lick the side of Kendra’s face causing her to squirm in pleasure. Thaindire could not mask his distaste.
“ Come back down with us Thaindire, we can share her,” suggested Campion raising an arched eyebrow. “ She is most inviting, is she not?” The priest gestured with his free arm, sweeping it down in front of Kendra as if he was unveiling a work of art.
“ Not in a thousand years,” replied Thaindire.
“ Oh come now Master Witch finder, surely these firm thighs, pert breasts and succulent lips appeal to even one as chaste as you,” mocked Campion pointing to the various body parts as he spoke. “ Embrace her and join us.”
“ You are coming with me to account for your unholy crimes.”
Campion let out a laugh.
“ My, your resolve is certainly strong, I shall credit you with that, but you shall perish here or become one with the village, nobody can resist the power of Selne,” he announced.
“ Selne is a false god, nothing but a weak impostor.”
“ Selne is the God of Blood, the Father of Aftlain, He who exercises power over this village,” explained Campion.
“ He is nothing but an exponent of evil and will be overcome, like you, by the One True God,” answered Thaindire.
“ Join me, join us,” entreated Campion reaching out with his free hand.
“ Never!” yelled Thaindire and he stepped forward, glittering sword raised.
“ As you wish,” replied Campion and he reached down to wrap his arm about the legs of Kendra and in one fluid movement he tipped her up and over the edge of the bell tower. Thaindire gripped the wall and watched as her naked body fell from the height and without a scream or cry, smashed onto a headstone below, breaking her body.
Thaindire returned his attention to Campion who stood naked before him, the tail occasionally appearing as it flicked back and forth.
“ Now you are mine,” uttered Thaindire and he made his way forward. Campion hopped backwards with startling dexterity and balanced on the wall, squatting as he faced Campion.
“ Not this time witch finder,” he replied with a manic grin. The leathery wings on his back unfolded several times until a substantial wingspan appeared. He somersaulted backwards and disappeared from view. Thaindire dashed to the far wall of the bell tower and looked over. He just about caught sight of the beating wings as the demon flew over the churchyard but then he became lost against the darkness of the forest beyond. Thaindire snatched up the lantern and held it high in case this was a ruse by Campion and he was flying back to attack him, but the rays of the lantern light picked out nothing. Thaindire cursed under his breath and looked out across the forest as a cackling laugh drifted to him from the darkness. His jaw jutting out, Thaindire paused in consideration and then made to the stairs and began to descend them back into the church.
Thaindire entered the main part of the church once again. It was still bathed in the bloody light and he gave a shudder as his eyes fell upon the tapestry hung over the altar. He reached up and with a violent tug, pulled the tapestry from its hangings, letting it crumple to the ground. Thaindire contemplated searching the church but dismissed this action fearing that Campion might return and suitably reinforced. No, he was better served by returning to the tavern and hoping that Priestcote had delivered by now on her promise. He turned and strode over the still corpse of Stafford, his spilled blood gleaming in the candlelight. At the door, Thaindire stepped outside and held up the lantern to ascertain if anybody was in the churchyard. The orange light showed the vicinity to be empty and reassured he made his way to the gate and the road beyond.
The dark trees overhung the narrow road as he walked back down to the village. Thaindire kept glancing skyward anticipating a swooping Campion to assault him, but there was no sign of the demon. There was no doubt in Thaindire’s mind that the entire village was under the charismatic, if unholy, influence of Campion and haven or not, darkness lurked at every turn in Aftlain. Thaindire walked quickly, sword drawn in one hand and lantern held in the other as he soon reached the Tallow Bridge. Ahead, he espied a couple of figures stood to the right on the bridge and he slowed his pace to ascertain whom it was. The couple paid him no attention for it was a young boy and girl locked in a lover’s embrace, too wrapped up in their own pleasure to observe the witch finder as he walked by. Thaindire picked up the pace of his stride once more, his breath forming in clouds before him as he entered the square. He saw a figure cross from the southern side, making for the tavern and as he rounded Reznik’s residence, light blazed from the two ground floor windows but fortunately there was no sign of the soldier.
Relieved, Thaindire pushed open the door of the Last One Inn. As was the usual case, the pub was busy, the villagers enjoying another evening of conversation and ale. Thaindire cast his gaze about the tavern anticipating wary glances and even the possibility of attack, but he was barely noticed other than a couple of greetings from those nearest to him as he passed through the bar and made his way up the staircase to his lodging room. As soon as he entered, he quickly closed the door behind him and darted across to his bed, lowering himself to the floor he looked underneath and let out an anxious sigh at the sight of the bottle. Plucking it with his left hand he sat on the bed and examined the glass vial. It was a vague triangular shape with a cork stopper and inside was a clear, slightly viscous liquid, which he swilled slowly from side to side. A label stuck to the glass declared “Aqua Fortis” and Thaindire mouthed his thanks to Priestcote at delivering the valuable commodity to him. He stooped and slipped it back under the bed and then sat staring at the already lit fireplace. Ought he seek to escape now? He had no way of knowing what the reaction of the village would now be given that he was aware of Campion’s dark and infernal secret and that supported him making good his departure immediately. Furthermore, the cover of night would assist him in stealing a mount and leaving the village. His considerable concern however was riding at night. The moon was absent, masked by the cloude
d sky and even if he took the lantern with him it would not light up the road sufficiently to allow a safe passage. The last thing he required was to manage to flee the village only for him to fall from his mount or the house to be lamed leaving him either injured or on foot. The temptation to leave that instant was great but he fought the feeling down knowing that he needed the light of day to make his journey swifter and safer.
He stood and paced across to the fireplace to warm himself, enjoying the heat on his back and the rear of his thighs as he unclipped his cloak and placed it over the nearby rack. His thoughts turned to the night ahead of him. He was loathe to stay awake all night as he needed rest if he was to ride hard the following day. Instead, Thaindire decided he would jam the spare sword, which he had bought from the smith, under the door handle to impede anyone trying to enter and at the very least they would awaken him if they sought to smash the door down and he would sleep with his holy blade beside him. He took the sword from its scabbard and noted its was still marked with the verger’s blood as he recalled running the Priest’s assistant through. Thaindire wondered what the demon priest was doing now. Had he returned to the church to cover up the trappings of his foul behaviour or was he gathering his ungodly village allies about him to come for Thaindire?
His door suddenly burst open and he leapt forward, sword raised as Kathryn entered without announcement, as was her wont.
“ Goodness Samael, its only me,” she exclaimed being faced with the blood-smeared blade.
“ When will you learn to knock?” snapped Thaindire lowering the sword. He moved away from the fire so he could look beyond the landlord’s daughter but could see nobody else lurking. She closed the door and smiled.
“ Where have you been today, nobody knew where you were when I asked?”
“ Oh, I have been out hunting with Captain Reznik,” he replied.
“ Ah, wolf hunting?” she queried pointing at the blood on his sword.
“ Yes, that’s right.”
“ How did you fare? Slay many?” she asked.
“ Eighteen in all.”
“ Wonderful. It all makes the village a safer place doesn’t it?”
Thaindire nodded still holding his sword, the pommel emitting a low blue glow.
“ I wondered if you wanted to come downstairs for something to eat and drink since you have been busy all day?” asked Kathryn.
“ I am rather tired if you must know, would you bring something to me?” requested Thaindire.
“ Why, by all means, I shall go and get it for you now,” she confirmed and spun away leaving Thaindire on his own once again.
Kathryn soon returned bearing a tray laden with a flagon of ale, bread and a large bowl of a meaty broth, which smelled most inviting. Thaindire had not realised how hungry he had become and sat dipping the bread in the thick broth, relishing the chunks as he popped them in his mouth and chewed.
“ How did your back fare whilst you hunted?” asked Kathryn perching on the bed besides Thaindire. One of her distinctive scents washed over him, competing with the aroma of the broth, but winning out eventually, the smell of citrus becoming all pervading.
“ Fine thank you,” replied Thaindire in between mouthfuls.
“ Good. You will probably need some more ointment applied in the morning and you need to drink this,” declared Kathryn producing a small bottle containing a blue liquid from the folds of her skirt.
“ What’s that? “
“ The tincture you have had.”
Thaindire shook his head.
“ There’s no need for it, the ointment will do.”
“ Oh, suddenly a physician are we?” remarked Kathryn.
“ No, I just don’t think it is necessary,” replied Thaindire wary of drinking anything, which might dull his senses and extend his slumber.
“ Come now Samael, you need to recover and this is the best medicine for you,” she urged.
Thaindire halted eating and looked at Kathryn. He saw nothing but well meaning expressed on her face.
“ Very well, leave it here, I will take it after I have eaten, not during, it will spoil the meal.”
“ Good, good,” she smiled and placed the small bottle on the mantelpiece.
“ Will you be joining me tonight, will you come to my bed?” she suddenly asked without any hint of embarrassment.
Oddly, Thaindire found the prospect of the warmth of another somewhat appealing. The day in the forest had set a chill in his bones, which the fire in the grate was having a difficulty in dispelling; either that or his encounter with Campion had iced his blood. He glanced up at Kathryn who looked back at him, eyes expectant and delicious, inviting mouth slightly parted, those full, luscious lips ready to caress and arouse. He found himself picturing them bound together, wrapped up in one another on her bed, the room aglow from her candlelight, the air rich with her many scents and a strange yearning rose within him. He found himself craving the gentle touch of her delicate hands, the feel of her thighs about him, her whispered breath in his ear. He shook his head trying to dispel the image that had formed in his mind. She was clearly placing those images there as she sought to enchant him.
“ Come to me,” urged Kathryn once again.
Thaindire wanted to reject her, to tell her no for it was contrary to what he had pledged when joining the Order. He had forsaken any flesh-based pleasure for it was a weakness and one, which the enemy would deploy in order to distract and destroy. Notwithstanding this, he found he was unable to say no to her. Pulsing warmth grew within him and his consciousness was invaded by the prospect of enjoying her. Thaindire breathed in deeply as Kathryn moved across the room towards him, one hand outstretched and she pushed it through the white locks on his head. The sensation felt light and pleasant and before he knew it, he had leant his face against the soft warmth of her stomach and she was slowly letting her fingers run through his hair.
“ Come and be mine Samael,” she whispered. Thaindire felt his eyes closing, the warmth continuing to rise and her scent overpowering him. How delicious it would be to lie with her and let the aching of his back be alleviated by her sensual ministrations. He savoured her closeness and the promise of more, feeling himself relaxing.
“ Join me,” she purred.
Thaindire’s eyes snapped open.
“ Join me,” Just as Campion had beseeched him. The thought of the demon priest shattered the tranquillity and warmth and he pulled his head away from the caress of Kathryn.
“ What is it?” she asked.
“ Nothing, I need to finish my meal and get some rest after a day in the forest. I may come to you later though,” he replied noticing that he was still unable to reject her entirely. Priestcote was right. The attempts to bind him to the village grew stronger.
“ I do hope so. Very well, I shall leave you be my handsome man.”
She bent down and kissed him on the cheek, letting her lips linger before she made for the door and left.
Thaindire exhaled hard troubled at what had come over him. The heat had receded and his head began to clear. Promptly he completed his meal and then made for the mantelpiece and the tincture. He picked the small glass bottle up, regarding its contents as he turned the bottle between his fingers. He pulled out the cork and poured the contents into the fire, watching with a satisfied smile as steam rose and the liquid, whatever it was, evaporated. Thaindire then took the second sword, jammed it under the door handle and made for his bed. He would sleep fully clothed, sword at the ready, in case Campion and his acolytes decided to pay him a visit. Thaindire issued a yawn, a sweeping tiredness overcoming him as he lay staring into the flickering flames of the fire. Tomorrow he would leave Aftlain. None of this village’s corrupted souls would stand in his way.
Chapter Twenty-Three
A banging on his door woke Thaindire. He sat up and grabbed for his sword. The room was light and day had finally arrived. His gaze went to the door where the second sword remained in place. The banging came again a
nd a voice was calling his name on the other side of the door. He swung his legs around, grimacing at the stiffness in his body and awkwardly made his way to the door, kicking the sword out from its holding position and opening the door. Kathryn stood facing him, a tray tucked under one arm and her other arm raised ready to bray on the door again.
“ Oh, there you are,” she declared pushing past him and into the room to set his breakfast down on the seat beside the bed.
“ Yes, here I am,” answered Thaindire. He left the door open hoping that Kathryn would take the hint and leave him to wake properly.
“ Why wouldn’t the door open?” she asked placing her hands on her hips.
“ Must have jammed,” answered Thaindire avoiding her gaze and returning to the bed. Tentatively, he lowered himself trying to mask the stiffness as he did so but it did not fool Kathryn.
“ Still paining you?” she asked.
“ Just a little morning stiffness,” he replied.
“ I will fetch you the ointment in a short while but first I have news.”
Thaindire looked up quizzically.
“ What is it?”
“ That bitch Kendra has had her comeuppance,” smiled Kathryn triumphantly. Thaindire remained silent waiting to ascertain what Kathryn knew.
“ She was found in the churchyard this morning by the sexton. Threw herself from the bell tower. Found broken in the churchyard below,” she explained.
“ Threw herself?” repeated Thaindire.
“ Yes, suicide,” commented Kathryn raising her eyebrows. “ Seems even she had had her enough of her waywardness.”
“ How do you know it was suicide?” asked Thaindire. Kathryn frowned and gave him a confused look.
“ Well, how else do you think she got there? She jumped off the tower. Sexton said she was a right mess, so obviously had fallen from a height.”
“ That’s terrible,” said Thaindire slowly.
“ Huh, I don’t think so.”
“ Come now Kathryn, a woman has lost her life,” chided Thaindire.
