by Mark G Heath
“ You haven’t taken an oath to Reznik have you?” she asked furtively.
“ No, didn’t you hear him so say so?” he responded in irritation, pulling the girl’s arms down from around his neck.
“ Yes, yes I did, but I would not put it beyond Captain Reznik to play games with us. He does like to toy,” she answered, eyes gazing into his.
“ Well this time he told the truth, besides, I am not swearing an oath to anyone in this village,” he protested.
“ Sure, sure,” she smiled slipping her arm through his. Thaindire looked over to Priestcote and saw her watching him carefully. Was she concerned that he had made reference to her complicity in assisting his escape attempt. He gave a quick shake of his head as if to reassure her and she responded with a curt nod, before gathering up her skirt and making back towards her residence. The remainder of the villagers stayed stood chattering to one another, occasionally casting a glance in Thaindire’s direction as Kathryn and he walked towards the Last One Inn.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“ I am so pleased you came back,” confessed Kathryn.
“ Really? I’m not,” admitted Thaindire.
“ You should be, you know, you are well-liked within the village.”
“ Hmmm, well there does seem to be a number of people intent on wanting me to stay here, that I have to concede.”
“ You see. That is because we like you Samael, me more than anyone. In fact, I want you to stay with me, here in Aftlain. This village needs you, I need you,” implored the landlord’s daughter as she grabbed at Thaindire’s arm.
“ Let go of me,” said Thaindire jerking his arm away. Kathryn pulled a hurt expression.
“ I am grateful for your assistance in my recovery but I cannot remain in this village, with you or anyone else,” he continued.
“ Of course you can. Everything you could ever want is here in Aftlain. I will care for you, do your bidding, anything,” the enthusiasm flared again in Kathryn’s optimistic eyes.
“ It is not going to happen,” said Thaindire firmly.
“ I don’t understand, I thought you liked me Samael?”
“ I have never given you such an impression. That is in your mind and in your mind alone.”
“ Come now, there is no need to hide how you truly feel about me,” coaxed Kathryn making towards the witch hunter once again.
“ You are deluded, woman,” said Thaindire raising his voice.
“ I am just trying to get you to express what is really in your heart.”
“ Only the One True God is in my heart and a shield of ice lies around it. All the better for resisting the wiles of people such as you, “ replied Thaindire. He was pleased. Her hold seemed far diminished now. The confusing thoughts and images that once plagued him whenever Kathryn came near him had been banished. He was keeping her at bay.
“ Hmm, well it seems there is certainly no room in your heart for my brother after you laid him out cold in the stable.”
“ I did what was necessary. I spared his life,” remarked Thaindire.
“ You did although he has a rather sore head as a consequence,” she replied as the pair entered the tavern.
“ You head up to your room and I shall bring the ointment, you are still walking somewhat stiffly,” she suggested.
“ No, I can manage,” he answered.
“ Nonsense, I can see that you struggle as you walk. Please, all I want to do is help you, Samael,” smiled Kathryn. Thaindire hesitated regarding the girl. He needed the aching to recede so he was able to make good his escape from the village. If it kept her happy then he saw little disadvantage to it.
“ Very well, you may administer this ointment and that is all. Commence any talk of loving me or me staying with you in Aftlain and I shall throw you from the window of my room,” warned Thaindire. Kathryn grinned and gave a solemn nod before skipping away to collect her materials.
Thaindire lay on his bed, stripped to the waist as Kathryn sat next to him and opened up the pot of ointment.
“ I don’t suppose you can tell me what this ointment is?” asked Thaindire.
“ I can actually, it is called Braban’s Touch.”
“ And from what is it made?”
“ Ah, well, that I don’t know. I am sure Alyssia would tell you herself but I fear that she has an eye for you herself, Samael, so better I attend to your needs than her.”
Kathryn gently ran her hands over the lump on his lower back. She caressed the lump, like a mother would with a swollen, pregnant stomach.
“ Nearly time,” she whispered softly.
“ What did you say?”asked Thaindire.
“ Oh nothing, just time to smear on some of this ointment, it looks sore still.”
Thaindire shuddered as she applied the first layer of the ointment, the cooling effect of the concoction sending a chill across his naked torso. The white ointment streaked across the shell until it vanished, rubbed into the flesh by her fingers. Carefully Kathryn continued to smooth the ointment over and around the protrusion on his back, the aching receding as the numbing property took its effect.
“ Is it shrinking?” asked Thaindire.
“ Hard to tell. But it will go down if you keep having this ointment applied. Alyssia assures me it really is the best thing for your back. You will need some more tincture too. I shall bob and collect some for you later.”
Thaindire was concerned by the size of the lump that had sprouted from his lower back and wished to look on it for himself.
“ Haven’t you a mirror in your room?” asked Thaindire, “ I could see it in that. “
“ If you wish,” agreed Kathryn. She stood up and waited for Thaindire to rise from the bed before leading him down to her room, his tunic loose about his shoulders as he walked down the stairs. As he reached the lower landing, the door to Lancaster’s room opened and the man of means emerged, dressed ostentatiously as usual.
“ Ah good morning,” he greeted looking the duo up and down. Thaindire turned, hiding his back from the gaze of the wealthy man.
“ Hello Master Lancaster,” replied Kathryn courteously.
“ I wonder if you might collect some more essence of Carpathia for me please, Miss Kathryn, I am having some friends attend this evening. “
“ By all means, I need to visit the apothecary anyway.”
“ Excellent.” Lancaster reached to his purse and counted out ten gold marks handing the glinting coins to the landlord’s daughter. He held her hands closed over the coins,
“ Make sure it is a large vial,” he added.
“ Of course.”
“ Marvellous. Just leave it in my room. Good day to you both,” he gave a wide smile and headed off downstairs.
Kathryn entered her room and Thaindire followed, immediately assailed by the fragrances and scents, his head swimming under the effect of so many smells. He walked over to the mirror in the corner of the room as Kathryn looked on. Thaindire turned his back to the long mirror and twisted over his shoulder to look at his affliction. There was an almost perfectly spherical lump, which was a large as his head protruding from his lower back, just above where his belt ran. He moved a hand to it and pressed. It felt hard and rigid, almost like an eggshell. He prodded it but there was no give in the flesh. He stared at it for a few further moments intrigued yet slightly disgusted by whatever it was that had attached to him.
“ What do you think it is?” he turned away from the mirror to address Kathryn.
“ It must be some reaction to the wolf bite I guess,” she answered, “ But of course I am no physician. Alyssia knows what she is doing though. As soon as I explained to her what had happened to you, she knew precisely what you needed.”
“ So you say,” muttered Thaindire quietly. He pulled on his tunic, noticing that Kathryn was looking at him with a lascivious expression on her face. Oddly, he felt compelled to want to go and kiss her, the strange warmth again rising as he looked at her admittedly beautiful face.
His eyes wandered to the top of her breasts, the soft skin on display, an inviting place for him to place his head and savour her caress. Swallowing he fought the sensation and made for the open doorway and the less intoxicating atmosphere of the landing.
“ Where are you going Samael?” asked Kathryn moving to the door after him.
“ My room. I need some time to reflect. I will speak with you anon,” he replied.
“ Of course you will.,”answered Kathryn with a smile. Thaindire marched up the stairs and retreated to his room. Once there, he began reciting a prayer asking the One True God for guidance.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Thaindire had not remained in his room for long. Whether it was the frustration at having had his escape thwarted or the fury he felt for Reznik still coursing through his body, he could not just sit cooped up within the bedroom. He had paced back and forth, ruminating on how he might depart Aftlain for he feared that it would now only seek to tighten its grip upon him in the hope that he would soon succumb to its influence. He had considered attending upon Priestcote in the hope that she might be forthcoming with some suggestion to enable him to make good his escape, but he reasoned that her cousin would be at her side and therefore she would be ineffective in any plans to flee. His thoughts had also turned to the mysterious Simulacrum who seemed to have some kind of extraordinary powers, given his, was it a him, ability to enable Metylda Meverel to grow a needle and thimble like her cousin and accordingly stay within the village. He contemplated what other powers he had within his gift but was alive to the condition placed on Priestcote by this strange figure and suspected that a similar price would be extracted from him, if he sought his assistance. Added to that, he remained loathe to seek the help of something which clearly engaged in unholy works albeit he sensed that in order to bring about the village’s capitulation to judgement, he may himself have to make some sacrifices in his beliefs. Worsening matters, he had no idea how to meet with the Simulacrum given the hostile manner in which he was treated by the forest near his home a few days earlier. Priestcote had made mention that it was necessary to be invited to meet the Simulacrum, but Thaindire was unsure how he would even achieve that. With these whirling thoughts and an overriding sensation of being frustrated he quit his room and strode down the stairs.
Unsurprisingly, as he alighted on the lower landing, the door to Lancaster’s room opened and the well-heeled man stepped out.
“ Master Thaindire, if I may have a moment,” he said causing Thaindire to halt his pacy descent.
“ Yes, what is it?” snapped Thaindire in irritation.
Lancaster hesitated, slightly taken aback at Thaindire’s manner. He ran a hand down his chest, smoothing the silk shirt that he wore.
“ I sense you are in a hurry, so I shall be direct.”
“ As you wish.”
“ I have need for your services.”
“ In what manner?” asked Thaindire.
“ As protector foremost and a general companion if you will.”
“ Protector? From what?” queried Thaindire.
“ Whatever seeks to harm me,” explained Lancaster. “ As you know, I am a man of considerable means and with that comes the attention of the disadvantaged and envious. I would be at much greater ease if I knew that it was your swordplay, which stood between injurious harm and me.”
“ And general companion?”
“ You are an intelligent man, Master Thaindire, not some grunting hard man who can only articulate through brute force. I enjoy discourse as well as the delights of the world,” he smiled at his last comment. “ I would welcome the opportunity to share that with someone of a like mind.”
“ Where would you have me undertake these, er duties?” asked Thaindire.
“ Well, initially here, in Aftlain, I am to stay a further week.”
“ And after that?”
“ To travel with me to Lancester and to what other engagements are arranged beyond that,” answered Lancaster.
“ How would you travel to Lancester?”
“ My coach and horses will arrive for me in a week.”
Thaindire hesitated at this unexpected opportunity to leave Aftlain.
“ I will pay you well and there are plenty of added benefits,” coaxed Lancaster. “ All I ask is for an oath of allegiance and our arrangement is secured.”
“ Oath of allegiance?” repeated Thaindire.
“ Yes, to protect me in all and every circumstance and such like and so forth,” commented Lancaster with a dismissive wave of his hand, “ Just a formality really.”
Thaindire glanced down towards his sword. The pommel stone did not glow. He brought his cloak around to obscure the weapon.
“ May I think on your kind proposition Master Lancaster?”
“ By all means, we have time yet and you know where to find me.”
“ Indeed, although it seems that it is you that always finds me,” commented Thaindire. Lancaster laughed and clapped his hands together.
“ I shall see you anon.,” he declared towards Thaindire’s retreating back as he continued his way down the stairs.
He stepped out into the square feeling buoyed by this offer from Lancaster. This was a way out of the village. Surely he would not be stopped if he was with Lancaster? It was still seven days hence, but his resolve remained intact. All he had to do was to avoid this village’s overtures for that time period, depart on the coach of Lancaster and return to the Order. Soon a cadre of witch hunters would descend on Aftlain and lay low its unholy denizens. Thaindire set off walking towards the western side of the village as he contemplated bringing judgement to the village. A further week in the village would give him more time to try and unlock some its hidden secrets such as what was in the so far unfindable tower and what was it that the Homunculi were engaged in when they dived down into the depths of the well. Yes, all he needed to do was maintain his resistance to their attempts to succumb to the village’s desires and then ride out with Lancaster.
He walked past the Captain’s residence but the soldier was thankfully absent. Thaindire has no wish for Reznik to crow over him following the earlier altercation. Thaindire recalled that he had previously intended a further visit to the miller’s house, but had been distracted from doing so and accordingly with renewed vigour he walked on up the road towards the bridge and the turning down to the river. As he reached the junction of the lane, Thaindire halted by the bakery, enjoying the delicious aromas, which wafted from the building. Up ahead he could see some figures congregated on the brow of the bridge. Intrigued, he parked attending on the miller for a moment and pressed on towards the gathering of people.
There was a group of maybe a dozen people stood in a semi-circle on the bridge. They were positioned about Campion who was clad in his cassock, a bright turquoise surplice about his neck, looking far different from the naked, winged demon that Thaindire had witnessed the night before. He was saying something, although Thaindire could not yet discern what the words were as he walked closer. What caught Thaindire’s eye were the two villagers who were positioned at the edge of the bridge holding a figure between them, which was wrapped head to toe in white cloth. Thaindire joined those onlookers who encircled the scene.
“ And may we now commit our late sister Kendra Leventhorp to the cleansing waters of the River Centopani,” intoned Campion his right hand held aloft.
“ May those purifying waters wash away the sin that brought low our dear sister and purge her soul of the darkness that clung to her. Let the holy waters remove the stain of her ending and allow her soul to be freed from the clutches of evil so that it may rise to its rightful place in the heavens,” continued the priest, his baritone voice carrying over the cold air.
“ By all his saints and through his great mercy, we now commit dear Kendra Leventhorp to the Centopani,” he declared. He gave a nod and with a heave the two men tipped the bound corpse over the walled edge of the bridge. Thaindire moved to the wall and watched the bod
y strike the rushing waters, before it began to be carried away on the torrent. He turned back and saw that the small gathering all had their heads bowed and hands clasped as if in prayer, except Campion who was regarding him with a condescending gaze and a twisted grin.
The group raised their heads and immediately, Campion wiped the look from his face, adopting once more his façade of false piety.
“ Let us return to the church to light the Candles of Redemption for our departed sister and offer our prayers for her safe cleansing and passage,” he announced before turning and leading the throng of villagers away towards the church.
Thaindire shook his head at Campion’s hypocrisy and looked back at the river. The white shroud of Kendra Leventhorp was now gone, lost to the churning waters of the River Centopani. He wondered who else would end up dispatched to the frothing river, either as a corpse like Leventhorp or as a falsely accused witch as was Isabel Coffyn. No doubt Priest Campion held others in his sway who he treated with impunity and who he disregarded with such arrogance. Thaindire felt the rage rise within him, savouring the opportunity to drive his holy blade deep into the bowels of the demon priest and consign him to oblivion. A blast of cold wind buffeted Thaindire, as he stood, now alone, on the bridge, his cloak billowing around him. His white hair whipped in the air and he reached up to smooth it back into place, his eyes narrowing as he watched Campion and his acolytes walk slowly up the sloping road to the church beyond. Thaindire whispered his own prayer for the slaughtered girl and then turned away from the bridge and made his way towards the lane down to the mill.
The lane was empty, the trees, as ever, pressed tight either side as the forest sought to encroach upon and indeed swallow up the narrow route down to the river’s edge. As the mill came into view across the opening beyond the lane, Thaindire was drawn to a scene of activity on the riverbank. Three people stood by the edge of the water, their backs to him, though he recognised the frame of the miller, his wife, but not the third individual. They were busy watching the river where Thaindire could see the white bound corpse of Leventhorp moving through the water towards the waiting trio. Thaindire quickened his pace, taking large strides across the grassed embankment. He drew closer and could now make out eight small heads surrounding the corpse, bobbing up and down in the water. There was no mistaking the baldheads and flat, silver-eyed expressions as a group of Homunculi steered Leventhorp’s body through the water. The miller reached out with a boat hook and caught hold of the corpse, steadying himself as the river tried to keep its prize. He hauled the shaft of the boat hook through his hands, pulling the body closer to him as the Homunculi continued to swim. Presently, the body was parallel to the bank and all three of the waiting figures reached down and hefted it out of the water so that it was laid on the grass, water trickling from it. One by one, the tiny Homunculi exited the river, rivulets of water running down them, as they stood to one side, motionless.
