A Dangerous Energy

by John Whitbourn

  He found himself an agreeable suite of rooms in the east wing and was soon very comfortable. Once settled and moderately familiar with the building’s geography, he set to work on ensuring his comfort was fully maintained. He quickly ascertained that a number of the senior servants had taken the opportunity of Hillaire’s lengthy illness and the consequent lack of supervision to make merry. It seemed clear to Tobias that the amount of fine foods and wines in the storehouse was considerably less than it should be. Suspiciously enough, however, the stock of lesser-quality food and drink put aside for the servants’ consumption looked as if it was barely touched.

  Even more curiously, the inventory of fixtures and fittings for the east wing had been ‘mislaid’ and an inspection revealed many wall-niches devoid of their usual ornaments, and rooms significantly sparse in furnishings.

  After a purge occupying a full, sulphurous day, order was restored and a somewhat reduced force of servants set to work with renewed vigour and dedication – henceforth the main block and the east wing were as well kept and provided for as the Grand Master’s own abode.

  The only other occupants of the house were a few journeymen and one qualified magician who performed a few administrative duties and assisted with Baxter’s researches. Tobias found them to be competent aides if little else and otherwise rarely spoke to them. In their turn, they went in terror of Father Oakley and avoided him where work did not compel a degree of contact. All of which was rather unfair for he never once did anything to harm or even intimidate them. However, rightly or wrongly, they thought him capable of anything and so avoided him.

  In terms of work he was busy. Covering for the Grand Master, he advised ministers of the Crown when they wrote to him with queries and petitions. While Baxter decided on broad policy it was left to Tobias to implement the details of all instructions to the local Deans Temporal. Several days each month were spent exhaustively checking Grand Master Baxter’s submissions and returns to His Majesty’s Royal and Holy Government. Every point of fact had to be independently confirmed; every opinion expressed had to be reconsidered in the light of current Church policy. The responsibility was such that none but Father Oakley could undertake the task.

  By far the greater part of his time was taken up by the myriad petty duties arising from the control of such a large area and so many people. Despite his long service in the magical profession, Tobias had been surprised by the extent and complexity of a Grand Master’s responsibilities. Every matter magical was down to him. It was a little daunting to realise just how many men and women, how much money and how many spheres of influence, were at one’s disposal.

  For instance: Baxter had inherited a number of farms and properties from the previous Grand Master. These had to be administered by Tobias, staffed, watched over and duly milked for money. This and other monies accruing from the post had to be properly accounted for and invested to maximum advantage. Also, aside from the Magicians assigned to him for dispersal to the various Bishops, there was a large number of soldiers and servants to be paid, supervised and utilised.

  It can therefore be understood that the correspondence arising was colossal, and the need for vigilance never-ending. And until he had fully created and mastered his reformed system, Tobias was usually glad of his bed at the end of the day.

  Remaining with the subject of bed it should be mentioned that, almost as a reflex action, he seduced a number of the girl-servants (deflowering two), but he found the act less and less pleasing. After a year or thereabouts he ceased such activities altogether and felt no loss. Outwardly at least, he effortlessly assumed the chastity expected of him. Inwardly his erotic life continued unabated with increasingly bizarre and disquieting cameos in his mind. Their implementation would have to wait for a time when greater immunity from discovery and subsequent embarrassment was his.

  His shadowy libido thus unsatisfied, Tobias turned to other fields for distraction and amusement but found little or none of either. When time hung heavy on his hands and food and drink, books and women, pleased him not at all, then he found himself willing to risk everything for an explanation of his present state.

  CHAPTER 8

  In which demonology is discussed and our hero is frustrated by conversation.

  For as long as demonology had been a part of the magical art, men had been aware that powers higher than the ‘common’ demons existed. Little was known for certain save that many spirits (for want of a better word) referred to them as if to a higher authority. Many humans, and magicians in particular, had experimented and made attempts to contact these higher forces; but in almost every reliably recorded case such endeavours had ended either in complete failure or disaster. A popular legend always recited to journeymen and usually embellished with all sorts of gruesome details concerned one such attempt by an unspecified early-medieval Pope. The story had it that this gentleman had assembled the entire council of the Holy Thaumaturgic College of the day to summon for him such a ‘Demon Lord’. The result was that the twenty-six councillors, the best magicians of the age, were discovered the next day seated at a long table within a pentagram – all with their heads twisted neatly back to front, because of which they were dead.

  Although the story was entirely without substance, it served to make the point that assays into the higher realms of demonology were highly dangerous. It was commonplace knowledge that considerable numbers of magicians died every year in summoning quite ‘ordinary’ demons because of faults in ritual, inadequate preparation or simple lack of power. It took the sort of combined natural ability and years of patient study that Tobias possessed for even minor summonings to be conducted with any degree of confidence. Demon Lords were therefore quite out of the question …

  However, that is not to say they were entirely left alone as a subject. Drawing on Biblical references, theologians and magicians gratuitously assigned names to these dimly glimpsed Demon Lords and arranged them into the hierarchy of Hell. Books of speculation abounded but the inquisitiveness thereby engendered merely led to a record of disastrous experiments and eventually the Church called a halt to further research.

  Of course this did not worry or inhibit Tobias in the least. With his extensive knowledge of the subject he had picked up occasional references which seemed to suggest direct contact could be both possible and survivable. In years past he had merely been intrigued and left the matter at that. Now he sought out these few, enigmatic references again and gave them deeper consideration.

  If demons were masters of the material world when invited into it, then what was the power and knowledge of the masters of demons? he wondered.

  His desire for some hint of an absolute explanation had grown desperate but not to the extent that he threw away all caution. Like all good soldiers, suppressing the urge for battle, he would reconnoitre first.

  Tobias was quite confident of most summonings now. While questioning demons he was assured enough to be able to relax in an armchair placed in the pentagram. Thus situated, and with a cup of tea on a small table at his side, in the spring of 2011 AD he entertained the supernatural in his locked room. And yet Tobias’ vigilance was never lowered; for all his appearance of ease, he kept various warding spells and the phrase of dismissal constantly in his mind. Paradoxically it was at such times, when life had to be lived from moment to moment, that he found the mental peace and freedom which he was seeking. Alas it was only ever a temporary thing, for no life can be constantly lived in such a manner unless it is spent on a battlefield (and thus is short).

  All Tobias’ tutors and all the manuals advised that no attention should be paid to a demon’s appearance or surroundings. Such things were specifically designed to distract and possibly ensnare the summoner. All thought and all concentration must be bent upon the demon’s words and upon forcing it to perform one’s will. In practice, however, the temptation to marvel at demonic ingenuity was too much for most people and Tobias was no exception; but he had the advantage of experience to excuse such lapse
s.

  Looking into the chalk window he had drawn on the far wall, he could see a smart seafront of the type found in the southern coastal resorts as patronised by Royalty. Evidently it was high summer for sunlight of the kind that Tobias so detested gleamed brightly on the white houses along the road and on the calm blue sea. People in smart summer suits and dresses strolled leisurely in considerable numbers up and down the promenade. Possibly it was a holiday in their world, if world it was. Tobias, quite appalled by the scene, could see no obvious person to talk to, nor judging by their lack of reaction could the holiday-makers see him. Then a woman alone, passing along the street, stopped, looked directly at Tobias through the window and came closer, then spoke in a coarse sullen voice, ‘What d’yer want?’

  “Ello Threadgold, darlin’,’ replied Tobias, mimicking a lower-class accent quite accurately.

  ‘She’ or Threadgold, as magicians termed ‘her’, had all the appearance of a blowsy tart. Tobias had seen whole brothels-full of the type in Southwark. The besmirched youthfulness, clumsy make-up and pouting sulkiness were all calculated parts of the attraction. True to the part, Threadgold’s dress was cut remarkably low and a frivolous bonnet topped a mop of lanky black hair. Despite the fact that his celibacy was now engrained and his tastes in fantasy roamed elsewhere, Tobias found himself pleasurably, or perhaps dangerously, aroused.

  Collecting himself, he said, ‘I want information rather than deeds, bound by oath to the black eminence in return for six bodies.’

  Threadgold followed the practice of leaning over the window ledge into the room and studied the drawn pentagram very closely. Tobias’ eyes were irresistibly drawn to the cleavage thus revealed and he was momentarily distracted.

  ‘OK, I vow,’ the demon said as she leant up, obviously satisfied.

  ‘Firstly; your guise is excellent but change it, please.’

  ‘D’y fancy me?’

  ‘Yes, that’s the problem. Just how senior are you?’

  ‘Very.’

  ‘I can believe it; ordinarily the flash of a couple of grimy breasts wouldn’t affect me in the least. You’re exerting some sort of “fascination” aren’t you?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Thought so. Very well – stop it and rearrange yourself.’

  ‘Don’t wanna.’

  ‘You’re bound to.’

  The tart disappeared and in its place was a beautiful boy with the face of an angel.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Please, sir … ’ he said winningly.

  ‘No!’

  The boy vanished and was replaced by something totally inhuman, viscous and revolting. The holiday crowds took no notice of it.

  ‘No!’

  Finally, after the appearance of a sweet young girl in a party dress and with eyes of sluggish green vomit which Tobias also rejected, they settled for a priest. Admittedly it was an unsavoury priest, all haggard and etched with indulgence and despair but it was recognisably human. He looked vaguely like an unfrocked prelate Tobias had once met and perhaps that was where Threadgold had got the idea. Then, sensing some impatience in Father Oakley, the demon priest forced his ravaged features into an anticipatory expression.

  ‘Thank you – at last,’ said Tobias. ‘Now, remember you’re under vow of truth.’

  ‘Of course,’ Threadgold replied, ‘unlike humans I’m bound by my oaths … ’

  ‘Why?’ interjected Tobias eagerly.

  ‘I don’t know; I just am.’

  ‘Who is your master? Who controls that town?’ he nodded towards the promenade.

  ‘I do – when it’s in existence that is, look … ’

  Threadgold pointed a finger at a passer-by and the woman dropped lifeless to the pavement. The crowds looked alarmed for a little while; a couple caught Tobias’ glance in a supplicatory way but they soon gave up. So they could see him, after all! Very shortly the pedestrians, hapless prisoners of Threadgold’s little world, were picking their way around the corpse with all normality resumed.

  ‘Beyond the town who is your master?’

  ‘I never go there, so the question, my son, does not ever arise.’

  ‘Who created you and when?’

  ‘I am not permitted to answer such questions.’

  ‘Who does not permit you?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘To whom do you owe allegiance?’

  ‘You – at the moment.’

  ‘At other times?’

  ‘You have me there. I owe allegiance and obedience to a Lord.’

  ‘Named?’

  ‘The name is not known to humans and would make no sense to you in any case.’

  ‘Nevertheless, I wish to know it.’

  ‘He will kill you and have your soul.’

  ‘Good – name him!’

  ‘If you have power enough he may answer to the name of Lord Burgess – that is a reasonable human rendering of his naming.’

  ‘To whom does Lord Burgess owe allegiance?’

  ‘I do not know, my son.’

  ‘Is he what we would call a Demon Lord?’

  ‘Father, he is the Demon Lord.’

  ‘Is he the black eminence?’

  ‘Yes, I suppose so.’

  ‘Does he have ultimate knowledge?’

  ‘I would imagine so.’

  ‘Have you never questioned him on the nature of things?’

  ‘No – such matters just don’t occur to my race; we don’t think about them. My advice, which you won’t take so I’m safe in giving it, is for you to do likewise – it’s enough to kill and eat!’

  Tobias ignored this.

  ‘Does Lord Burgess answer the call of humans?’

  ‘Occasionally.’

  ‘Can he be bound?’

  ‘Doubtless he could be by some races but I suspect humans are not among them.’

  Tobias refused to rise to this bait.

  ‘So you know nothing of the forces that bind you to bargains, nothing of supreme beings, nothing of the universe beyond your demonic Eastbourne, nothing much at all in fact!’

  ‘No to all your questions but, Tobias my son, let’s put this into perspective.’ Threadgold grinned ingratiatingly but the deep sunken eyes were fish-cold and senseless. ‘I am a very powerful demon. A fact you seem to forget due to my lack of metaphysical knowledge and interest. Let us keep in mind that released, unbound by such as you, I could ravage and destroy your world all in a single day and night. You seem unaware of it but I am the most senior summoning of your demonological career. The fact that I’m prepared, indeed obliged, to answer your stupid questions is a signal honour to you. There are few humans who could summon and bind me.’

  Ignoring this speech, Tobias demanded, ‘Do we, collectively as magicians, have the correct names of any Demon Lords?’

  Threadgold looked pained and said, somewhat peevishly, ‘Tobias, I have already said that as far as I know there is only one Demon Lord and human textbooks do not know his real name.’

  ‘But there have been summonings in the past?’

  ‘Presumably they found his name from other sources – as have you.’

  Tobias thought a little while and then, tensing visibly, said, ‘Very well, I have finished with you; you may go.’

  ‘Just a moment, Tobias,’ replied the priest hurriedly, ‘with sufficient safeguards a man of your ability could enter my realm in complete security. I could become the tart again – for you. Powerful magicians such as you have fucked demons before you know – it’s an experience worth ten lifetimes, how — ’

  Tobias threw a cloth containing six consecrated wafers through the window and spoke the phrase of dismissal. Abruptly the window closed and became wall again. Threadgold’s last ‘How’ echoed briefly around the room.

  Tobias sipped abstractedly at his tea and hurriedly put it down again because it was cold.

  So – demons, even the powerful ones, were more ignorant and incurious of their origin, place and fate than the most brutish of
humankind. Power they had sure enough, but of understanding, less than the old ladies who packed Pevensey Church. It remained therefore, thought Tobias in a curious epithet from his Southwark days, to speak to the accordion player rather than his monkey. From this ‘Lord Burgess’ he would seize back some sort of self-respect and justification for the race he had run and supposedly won.

  CHAPTER 9

  In which our hero asks some very important questions.

  In this quest there was no one and nothing to guide him save his accumulated knowledge and good sense. As far as the magicians’ manuals were concerned, contact with Demon Lords was both forbidden and impossible – which covered all eventualities nicely. Therefore, lacking guidance and inspiration, Tobias decided that he had little alternative but to use the pentagram that had held Threadgold (he knew no stronger one) and hope it would similarly hold Threadgold’s master.

  Laboriously, for he was no seamster, in the evenings he embroidered a smaller model of the pentagram around the hem of a spare gown. This he found was the most difficult and exasperating part of his preparations, as his curses and pricked fingers bore witness.

  When this task was at last completed and after a week’s fast, he retired to his bedroom. If I ever leave this room again, he thought, it will be with all my unhappiness taken away. Tobias could hardly remember when he was last actively happy and wondered what it would feel like.

  Outside the locked door stood one of the Grand Master’s guardsmen, picked by Tobias for his good record and, so far as he could tell, complete lack of curiosity. The man was armed and had been told to admit no one, not even the Grand Master (a tricky instruction this!), whatever might be heard from within. If Tobias had not emerged within twelve hours the guard was to break in himself. Copious rewards had been promised him.