The Londum Omnibus Volume One (The Londum Series Book 4)

by Tony Rattigan

  Tom explained that a couple of hundred years before, in the days of “Bad Queen Lillibet”, everyone had been allowed to worship whoever and however they wanted. Numerous Gods were held sacred and bowed down to. She called it “Religious Freedom” but in reality it was just heresy and debauchery (according to Tom).

  Queen Lillibet had resisted the call to convert to the “One True Religion” and finally the heroic country of Castile, under the brave King Filip, could stand this blasphemy no longer and decided to invade Angleland, to free its people from this tyranny.

  He had sent over the Castilian Armada, a vast fleet of ships and soldiers, which had defeated Angleland. Bad Queen Lillibet had been executed and the people of Angleland were then free to follow the One True Religion led by The Church of Rome.

  Of course it wasn’t all sweetness and light in Angleland since, Tom admitted. There were always those who wanted to go back to the old, evil days, so the Church had been forced to set up the Black Guard. This was an organisation overseen by the Church, which consisted of soldiers and clergymen who patrolled the country and maintained the peace as well as upholding religious doctrine. To achieve those ends, they used their main weapon to promote fear and obedience, a series of interrogations known as “The Castilian Questioning”. The Questioning went on nationwide under the direction of the Grand Questioner, Torquelauda.

  This explained a lot to Cobb. He had seen in the villages they had passed through, there had been no sign of smiles or merriment. Even in the hardest of times, Cobb had found, people will always try and lift their spirits with laughter and song. But not here, not in this world. At the inn they had stopped at there was no sign of any enjoyment. Everyone had gone to bed about nine o’ clock. They hadn’t even sold alcohol! What a grim, deathly place this is, thought Cobb. No wonder Harlequin hadn’t wanted to be banished here.

  ‘It’s all God’s will,’ Tom had told him.

  ‘Which God,’ asked Cobb.

  ‘There is only one God.’

  ‘And what’s his name?’

  ‘Well … er … God, of course.’

  ‘Oh, yes of course. Sorry, things are different where I come from.’

  ‘Well, Pagan you may be but I wouldn’t let that slip to anyone else if you want to remain a free man.’

  Cobb knew of people back on his own world who had a monotheistic view of religion. They believed that there was only one God and his name was … Jehosaphat, was it? They worshipped his representative on Earth, what did they call him? Jerry Christmas or something like that. Cobb couldn’t remember, he never paid too much attention to fairy tales.

  They even showed their devotion to him by walking around wearing little crucifixes, which commemorated how he had died, on the cross. Cobb supposed if he had been hung, then they would all wear little nooses. Creepy.

  Cobb thought that he might not be able to find his way safely around this world by himself. He wondered if there were any witches around, they were usually open-minded people who didn’t bow down to authority. If he could find any help anywhere, he bet it was with them.

  ‘Do you have many witches around here?’ he asked innocently.

  ‘God bless you, no. We are under the protection of Witchfinder Grindle, he stamps out that evil scourge wherever it raises it head. A fine, upstanding man is the Witchfinder.’

  ‘Roderick Grindle?’ asked Cobb. ‘Small man, in his twenties?’

  ‘That’s him. A credit to the nation he is, torturing and burning witches for the greater glory of God.’

  ‘I’m sure that God is very pleased with his devotion,’ replied Cobb sardonically, which earned him a strange look from Tom. Cobb was amazed at what Tom had said about Witchfinder Grindle as he had had dealings with him a couple of times back on his own world. Here he sounded quite a serious and imposing figure whereas on Cobb’s world, he was inept, both personally and professionally.

  ‘How do you know what he looks like? You’re a stranger round here,’ asked Tom, curiously.

  ‘Oh, er … somebody described him to me on the boat, on the way over. It was when they were telling me what a great man he is and how he protects you all,’ he lied.

  Anyway, Cobb changed the subject and they travelled on. It was a two-day trip to Oxnaford and eventually they reached a halfway point. Tom found a place where they could bed down for the night. It was obviously a regular stopping place on the journey from High Wickham to Oxnaford, as evidenced by the remains of earlier campfires. They unhitched the horses and fed them and lit a fire but by the time they had done all that they both agreed it was too late to start cooking, so after a cold meal they settled down on the cloth bales in the back of the cart for the night.

  As Cobb lay there beneath the stars he realised where he was. A place of tyranny, oppression and persecution, under the guise of religious morality. He saw now quite clearly what his own world may have been like if the Castilian Armada hadn’t been defeated by “Good Queen Bess” and the ships of Sir Frank Drayke. At least that is how Albion remembered her; to them she was a saviour, not a tyrant.

  ***

  Next afternoon, Cobb was driving the cart while Tom was having a nap in the back. Cobb had handled coaches and carriages before so this slow moving cart with its aged horses was no problem. As they trundled along, Cobb came upon a rider who was stopped in the middle of the road, defiantly blocking the way.

  Cobb pulled the cart to a halt and studied him, he was dressed in black leather armour covered by a black, metal breastplate, and around his neck was a white linen collar. His trousers and boots were also black. On his head was a … you guessed it … black, metal helmet. A sword dangled at his belt. Cobb figured that you didn’t have to be a detective to realise that this was someone from the Black Guard.

  Arrogantly, the man called out to Cobb, ‘Pull over!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Pull over!’

  Cobb looked down and then said to the man with a smile, ‘No, it’s not a pullover it’s a waistcoat but thank you for noticing.’

  The man drew his sword and advanced on him, when Tom Harris woke up and took charge of the situation. He grabbed the reins from Cobb and pulled the cart over to the side of the road as far off the track as he could get.

  ‘Sorry officer, he’s a Francorman, he doesn’t understand our ways.’

  The rider muttered something coarse at them and turned back to the road. Cobb watched as along came a carriage. For a moment he was surprised as he saw it was dressed in finery and the paintwork and gold detail were of the finest quality. It wasn’t like anything he had seen so far, it was quite fancy in fact.

  It was only as it drew level with them he understood why. Inside were two men who he took to be Castilians. They looked well fed and washed and they rattled on merrily at each other in their native language, ten to the dozen.

  At least it sounded Castilian to Cobb, he had heard it in Londum quite a few times. Why do they all speak so fast, he wondered. It’s probably because they use so many extra vowels and they have to rush to get them all in before the sentence ends.

  Cobb watched them closely as their carriage rode by. They were dressed in the finest of clothes, sheer silk with gold thread woven into it. Their rings and necklaces were thick, chunky, ornate pieces. Their appearance just screamed wealth and privilege, so different to what he had seen on his travels up to now. It seemed that it was possible to become wealthy and powerful … as long as you were a Castilian Don or someone who worked for them i.e. the Black Guard.

  Once the carriage had gone past, the rider sheathed his sword and waved the cart on. Then he rode off after the Castilians.

  ***

  Finally they approached the city of Oxnaford, the same name as in his world (from the Saxon, meaning a place to ford Oxen). Cobb was looking forward to arriving there. He had been requested to go up there several times from Londum, to help the local boys with some large cases. When there were serious cases, it was quite common for the smaller police forces to reque
st assistance from the Met police as they had a dedicated detective squad and furthermore led the world in forensic science. Over the years he had become familiar with the place. He liked it; there were some good restaurants and pubs that he knew of. Not that they’d exist in this world, he realised with a sigh.

  In his world Oxnaford was a large academic centre, home to many world famous Universities. Surely this would be more than just a small, oppressed town full of frightened people.

  They approached the city from the east and crossing the River Thane, eventually ended up on the High Street. Cobb noticed that the delightful ‘Head of the River’ pub wasn’t there. It was a shame it was missing, as it was one of Cobb’s favourite pubs when he had visited Oxnaford on his world.

  On the way in Cobb could see that it was smaller than the city he knew. None of the buildings he knew from Victorian times were there and all there was were University buildings that dated back to Tudor times and the shops and houses were little more than the wattle and daub buildings of the type he had seen in Londis.

  They started to turn into the main shopping street, Cornmarket, but were held up by crowds of people. Tom turned the cart around and headed off past the Carfax tower and found his way to an alley that ran down behind the shops. Pulling up behind one of the shops, he handed the reins to Cobb and leap down from the wagon. He banged on the door of a shop and it was soon opened.

  ‘Oh, hello Tom. I was hoping you wouldn’t turn up today, the town’s a bit busy and business is going hectic out there,’ he cocked a thumb over his shoulder, indicating the shop.

  ‘Hello Sid, yes I saw, what’s going on?’

  ‘A burning.’

  ‘What, a witch?’ asked Tom.

  ‘Two for the price of one, a witch and a heretic!’

  ‘Oh. Well, God be praised.’

  ‘Yes, God be praised,’ replied Sid.

  ‘Where is it?’

  ‘In Saint Giles Square.’

  ‘So I suppose all the inns will be full up.’

  ‘Yes, I’m afraid a burning is always a big draw and they come for miles to see one. You may have to go out as far as Summertown to find a place. Anyway, I don’t mean to be rude but we’ll have to be quick, no one’s watching the shop.’

  ‘Yeah, no problem. You go back to your customers, Sid and I’ll dump the stuff in the store room for you.’

  Sid went back into his shop and Cobb helped Tom unload several bales of cloth and stack them in a store room at the rear of the shop. When they were done, Tom went to say goodbye to Sid, money changed hands and shortly after, he and Cobb were on their way again.

  ‘We have to go near Saint Giles Square, do you want to see the burning?’ asked Tom.

  Keep it polite, Cobb told himself. ‘No thanks, I think I can manage without.’

  Tom obviously knew his way around Oxnaford, as he ran the cart down various side streets until they reappeared at one end of a large open space, crowded with people. Looking around Cobb could see that they were almost right at the edge of town. ‘This is Saint Giles Square,’ Tom told Cobb. They were past the crowds and looking back towards town, they could see two upright stakes with kindling wood all around them, surrounded by the crowd. Fortunately there was no one tied to the stakes yet.

  The crowd consisted of the local townsfolk of Oxnaford standing around and dotted amongst them were many carriages. Although Cobb couldn’t see inside those carriages, he could tell by the ornate finery adorning them that they belonged to the wealthy, the Dons probably.

  Tom sat there watching the crowd for a moment and Cobb asked him, ‘What’s a saint?’

  ‘Don’t you know? Oh of course, you’re a pagan. Well, saints are certain men who are deemed to be so religious and holy and good that they are beloved of God and elevated to sainthood. This means they will sit on the right hand of God. That church down there and this square are named after Saint Giles.’ He pointed to the end of the open space where it split into two roads. In the fork of those two roads was a church, St. Giles’ church.

  ‘Right,’ said Cobb. In his world there were so many different Gods to worship and no one religion was considered any more important than any other (except by members of those religions) in the eyes of the law they were all equal. There were no such things as saints, which is why he had asked Tom what they were.

  ‘Can we make a move then,’ asked Cobb. ‘It might take some time to find a place to stay, we’d better be-’ He broke off as a phalanx of mounted men rode into St. Giles’ Square. There were a dozen or more of the leather clad, heavily armed, Black Guard and they were escorting an open coach that rattled into view in the midst of them. Cobb looked closely and was shocked to see it was occupied by none other than the Witchfinder, Roderick Grindle. And not only that, he had Deirdre sitting beside him!

  It was amazing, they looked identical to the ones that he knew back in his Universe; except this one seemed much more confident and imposing than the one he had met. ‘Look Tom, it’s the Witchfinder!’

  ‘Oh yes, he attends all the important burnings, whether he caught them or not. God bless him, I don’t know what state the country would be like if it wasn’t for him and his protection by the judicious burning of witches and heretics. That’s probably what the crowds been waiting for. Just a minute, how do you know that is him?’

  ‘Just a lucky guess. Look at the way the crowd’s cheering him, who else could it be?’

  ‘Aye, I suppose you’re right.’

  The coach pulled to a halt in front of the two stakes and the Black Guard arranged themselves in a protective circle around it. The Witchfinder stood up and waved to the crowd, which resulted in a rousing cheer by way of a response.

  ‘They’ll start the burning now,’ said Tom. ‘Sure you don’t want to stay?’

  ‘No. I’m good, thanks,’ replied Cobb, trying to remain calm.

  ‘Well, let’s be going then,’ said Tom and set the cart off down the road. As he reached the church and took the right hand fork marked to Banbar, their next destination.

  It began to rain as they left the square and Cobb looked back towards the crowd. He saw that the Black Guard had brought out the two candidates for burning, his heart sank and felt depressed. He looked at the rain and thought, the Gods must be weeping to see their faith and devotion abused like this.

  ***

  About a mile down the road they reached Summertown and found an inn for the night. It was busy because of the burning but they managed to find them a room but Cobb and Tom had to share. When Cobb was served his meal he just messed about with it, unable to eat when there were people being burned to death, just a mile down the road. He went straight to bed after the meal, barely able to hide his contempt for these people. He was sorely tempted to jump back to his own Universe and to hell with Harlequin but he’d made a promise and he was a man of his word, so he resisted the temptation.

  Then Cobb reminded himself that the burning of witches had taken place on his own world too, once upon a time. But on his world, advances in moral and religious tolerance had led to a much more humane country and eventually that sort of obscene punishment had been banned and now if anyone was executed, it was done humanely. Unfortunately he couldn’t see attitudes changing on this world any time soon. Not while the people were trodden down by this Castilian led, religious oppression.

  This country seemed to be trapped back in the 1600’s with no advancement of any kind. In his own world it had become a time of enlightenment and had led to Albion expanding its influence around half of the globe, which begat massive trading empires, imports and exports on an international scale. Of course this had brought it into conflict with other countries, such as Castile and the Nederlands, that had their own global ambitions but either by conquest or co-operation, they had all managed to carve out their own empires and prosper, side-by-side. Over the centuries, the other’s had dwindled but Albion’s had lasted the longest and became the largest.

  Here though, it appeared that once the
Castilians had taken over Angleland, they had deliberately stifled any kind of growth, financial, spiritual or technical, denying them any knowledge of the world around them, possibly to punish them for resisting the One True Religion. From the sound of it, they didn’t even allow the Anglish to leave the country in case they saw what the world was really like. They kept them bottled up and were allowed to do what they liked with them.

  While the poor natives of the country suffered under this harsh regime, many barely above the poverty line, second-class citizens in their own country, the Dons gorged themselves on the fat of the land.

  Cobb wondered if there were many Universes like this in the Multiverse. He had never considered it before, spending so little time in them, as he usually did. He was horrified at the thought, but reminded himself that there was little he could do about it. He couldn’t even change this one let alone all of the bad ones out there. He decided it wasn’t his problem, he was just passing through. Just get Harlequin and get out of here as soon as possible, he told himself as he settled down and tried to sleep, just get Harlequin and go home.

  ***

  It was a sombre morning, next morning as they left Summertown on the road to Banbar. Cobb fancied he could still smell the ash from yesterday’s burning in the air, but he knew that was really just his over active imagination.

  Tom seemed to notice his mood and didn’t speak to him unless it was necessary, so Cobb was left alone with his thoughts. He pondered the difference between here and the faith systems on his own world.

  Basically, whoever ruled an area decided on which Gods were worshipped. The Ancient Eejiptians had theirs, like Ra and Hathor, so most of the Afreekan continent worshipped them. Then there was the Athenian Empire with its Gods, Zeus and Hera etc, they spread across the Mediterranean countries that had been conquered by Athens. The Ancient Italian Empire had ruled over Western Europe and Albion so their Gods, Jove and Juno were worshipped there, even today. The Scandinavian countries where the Vikings came from, had their own version of a head God and his wife, Odin and Freya. Cobb had no idea who the people of Bharat and Canton worshipped. And all of these ‘Father’ and ‘Mother’ Gods had a whole cast of minor Gods to support them, numbering in the hundreds, sometimes.