by G. P. Taylor
When his father died it had been Kate who had held him in her arms and even though a child herself had given him comfort. She had taken away the fear of the loneliness, the pain and loss that had overwhelmed him. She had been everything to him and now she wept beside him, her tears falling across her cheeks on to the stone floor.
Thomas knew that he was about to cry. A lump grew in his throat so that he could no longer swallow, a burning began in his eyes. He drew in a gulp of breath trying not to weep, but this made him feel even worse. His chest heaved as he gave out a gut-wrenching sob. Red-hot tears poured from his eyes as he attempted to control the rising sense of panic that engulfed his whole body. His heart pounded in his chest as the sensation of fear made each nerve and muscle tingle. He cried for himself, for Kate, for what they were about to face. He could feel himself drowning in his grief. The snakes stirred in the box, hissing in reply.
‘My deliverer, my shield and the one in whom I trust. By the power of the Word save us!’ Thomas suddenly shouted out, not knowing where the words had come from, but hoping that the King of dreams would hear him, that he would be real in this world and not just a vapour of his imagination.
All at once he felt a powerful and awesome sense of peace. His tears stopped and the agony of the fear quickly subsided. In his mind he saw the face of the King smiling at him.
Above the tower, Thomas could hear the familiar sound of seagulls calling, but then the crying and screaming of the birds took on a sudden and savage tone that sent a cold shiver down his spine. He had heard them call like this only once before, when he was far out at sea in his father’s boat. He had watched as a colossal and menacing flock of seabirds ferociously devoured the body of a small half-dead whale that bobbed helplessly in the still waters. He had watched as they stripped its flesh from the bone, as the sea filled with whale oil and fragments of uneaten blubber.
Through the narrow windows of the tower he could just make out the silhouetted shapes of hundreds of seabirds wildly circling around. Their calling grew louder and louder as they filled the air, blotting out the light of the sun from the tower. They could be heard landing on the metal roof, scratching with their feet and digging their beaks into the hard surface.
‘My father said that the gulls were the souls of fishermen drowned at sea, returning to the place they sailed from,’ said Thomas.
‘My father said that when we die we go to be with Riathamus and that those who spoke of coming back to this life fooled themselves; and so did those who listened to them,’ Raphah retorted sharply.
In the distance the sound of the alarm bell echoed around the alum mine. The deep, ominous DONG … DONG … DONG gave the signal that all was not well. Set on the Alum House roof, the bell tolled its mournful ring, echoing around the mine calling for everyone to run for the safety of the Vicarage.
Kate was the first to speak as she anxiously looked outside.
‘What are they trying to do?’ she asked as more and more birds landed on the metal roof, their scratching sounding like a thousand trapped rats.
It was then that they felt the deep rumble. At first it sounded like thunder breaking over the distant hills. It shook the tower, vibrating the Keruvim and the candlesticks on the altar. The snakes ducked their heads back into the box as the chairs slipped over the stone floor.
Showers of white powder fell from the ceiling with each tremor, the seabirds took off in one large screaming flock, rising into the air, squealing loudly. The beams supporting the roof jumped on the lintel stones as the walls of the tower visibly moved.
‘The earth’s shaking!’ Thomas shouted. Kate looked around her, sure she heard a voice saying her name.
‘Riathamus has heard your prayer and is shaking the earth in his anger. The sea shall rise in his wrath,’ Raphah replied. ‘The birds knew what was happening before we felt the earth shake. We need to escape this place before it falls to the ground.’
It was Kate who heard the footsteps painfully climbing the stairs of the tower.
‘Listen … someone’s coming,’ she said softly, only half heard above the cries of the seagulls. Beadle unlocked the door and stepped into the chamber, glancing at the snakes that huddled in the box. He had a look of panic on his face. Kate seized the moment.
‘What’s the problem, Beadle? Has your master sent you to do his dirty work?’
‘He wants the Keruvim, said it’ll be safer out of here. The cliffs at North Cheek and half of Baytown have slipped into the sea,’ Beadle answered reluctantly not wanting to stay a minute longer in the tower.
‘Then take us with you,’ Kate said. ‘Surely he doesn’t want us to die if this place collapses? That can’t be in his plan, can it?’
‘He never mentioned you, just said get the statue and that’s what I’ll do,’ he snapped back.
‘But if you take us too then he’s bound to be pleased. He needs Raphah alive until tonight, then he can do the ceremony,’ she said quickly.
Beadle paused. He appeared confused. He looked at them tied to the chairs with the golden cords; his eyes showed his dilemma so clearly.
‘If I were to untie you from the chairs … one at a time …’ he paused to think … ‘What’s to stop you trying to escape?’
Kate looked at Thomas and Raphah. Her eyes told them not to speak: she would do the talking.
‘We’ll see this through whatever happens,’ she said. ‘Anyway, Beadle, how do you feel being involved in all this? You’re a good man; my father always spoke so highly of you. Surely you can’t go along with what Demurral is trying to do?’
Beadle looked at Kate and saw the warmth of her expression.
‘Sometimes I don’t know myself.’ Beadle attempted a smile. ‘It’s as if something takes me over, so I just go along with everything he wants to do. I’d have no home and no job if it weren’t for him.’
‘You could have a lot more without him,’ Kate said, encouraging sedition and knowing she had said enough to plant the seed of doubt in his mind. The conversation was interrupted by another tremor that shook the tower. The ceiling and the walls shook dust on their heads. Beadle made a quick grab for the Keruvim and then hobbled to the door. Kate shouted out:
‘You can’t leave us: the tower might fall down.’
Beadle stopped and put the Keruvim on the floor. He turned and went back to Raphah.
‘I suppose she’s right. The Vicar wouldn’t think too highly of me if you were all lost. I ask of you one thing. That you cause me no harm, understand?’ He began to untie the golden cords, each knot resisting his fingers as if to warn him of what would happen.
He untied Raphah, then Kate and finally Thomas. It was then that he realized his mistake. Kate deftly reached into the back of Thomas’s coat and pulled out the small Varrigal sword that Beadle had failed to see. She flashed the cold metal in front of his eyes and he could see that the blade was stained with blood. He jumped back against the altar holding up his hands.
‘Please don’t kill me. I’ll do anything you want – just spare me my life,’ he said hoping to gain sympathy. ‘I’ll help you escape, show you a way out.’
‘We don’t need any help,’ Kate said. ‘What shall we do, Raphah?’
The answer came as another tremor rocked the building. The seabirds leapt into the air screaming and calling out a warning of impending misfortune.
‘We can’t leave him here or he’d face the same fate as us. We at least owe him his life.’ Raphah took hold of Beadle by the scruff of his neck. ‘You branded me as a slave, you had men beat me and imprison me for your master.’ He paused and looked Beadle straight in the eyes. ‘I forgive you for what you’ve done, let it not stand between us.’
Beadle didn’t reply; he lowered his head and looked passively at the stone floor.
‘Pick up the snakes; they appear to know you well,’ Raphah commanded as he dragged Beadle by the scruff of the neck towards the door. ‘Carry the box. It will take care of your hands and the snakes may come in useful. I
’ll take the Keruvim. Demurral thought it would be powerful in his control but he could never imagine what true force it can unleash.’
Kate could hardly control her feelings; she bubbled with excitement as she shakily held the sword towards Beadle. She looked at Thomas. ‘He answered. You may think it thundered but I heard his voice, he spoke to me.’
Her eyes filled with tears, this time from the joy that welled up in her heart. Raphah knew how she felt. He put a hand on her shoulder.
‘We are not out of this yet. I don’t know what Demurral has already released with the Keruvim. There may be creatures and forces set free that I’ll have to stop.’ He gazed at Thomas and Kate. ‘You can go now, or you can see this through to the end.’ He looked into their faces for an answer. They glanced at each other and then at Raphah.
‘We’ll come with you,’ Kate said softly. ‘We’re just as much a part of this as you are.’
The Raven of Gold
THE body of the highwayman swung gently in the breeze six feet above Jacob Crane’s head. The noose dug tightly around the neck as the man dangled like a forgotten puppet. Crane looked up at the bedraggled corpse and coveted the new boots it was wearing. He was somewhat surprised that they had not been stolen. They were the boots of a gentleman, black leather with silver buckles, and now encasing the feet of a decaying corpse. It was as he inspected the body that he noticed the tell-tale signs of smallpox that littered the man’s rotting face: the swollen cheeks, the deeply blistered skin. In that he had his answer: no one would strip the body of a man who had the pox. Crane was amazed that they had even dared to hang him for fear of catching the disease. He thought of the words spoken by the woman on the moor and now, here at the Rudda crossroads, was his answer. Was this to be his future: to die of the pox or by hanging, left dangling in the autumn breeze with no one to bury him and no family to mourn his passing?
‘And what about you,’ he addressed the corpse. ‘Who mourned your death? Are we going to be brothers in the hereafter?’ Crane pulled on the bridle of his horse and walked along the path towards the coast. ‘Peace be with you, my friend. See you in hell,’ he called back to the cadaver as it swung in the wind.
He walked for several minutes along the narrow lane and through Uggle Wood, then decided it was safe to remount the horse. When the first earth tremor had struck he had decided to lead the horse, unsure as to what was happening. He looked to the north where the pillar of cloud was growing and spreading like a large fan to the east and west across the sky. It gave a strange glow that even in the morning light was stronger than the sun, though it gave no heat. He looked to the ground and saw that he had two shadows, one that fell to the north and the other to the south-west.
He rode along the rutted track and within a short time was overlooking Beastcliff. Again he felt that he wasn’t alone and looked back across the field to the lane. He was sure that he was being watched. At the edge of the cliff was a small narrow path, too narrow for a horse; it dropped steeply to the plateau, curving backwards and forwards down the cliff and disappearing in the undergrowth of small trees and brambles. You could hide an army or a ship full of brandy, Crane thought to himself.
Taking the saddlebag and throwing it across his shoulders, he left the horse at the top of the cliff and made his way steadily on foot down the path. In no time he was under cover of the trees. There was a well-trodden animal track through the wood and on several of the trees he noticed strange marks deeply gouged into the bark, which worried him. He thought of what the woman on the moor had said. The face of the hanged man with its pock-marked stare had burnt itself into his memory. He took his pistol from his belt and cocked the hammer, sure that with each pace he took someone was stalking him through the undergrowth.
He did not want to be caught by surprise by man, beast or – for Jacob Crane had been forced by circumstance to open his horizons and behold a new world of creatures and spectres that were beyond his imagination – by any other creature.
Cautiously, he followed the path through the wood. Above his head the canopy of trees kept him hidden. Looking up through the branches he saw the figure of a man high above him on the cliff top. He stopped and took out his spyglass. His disquiet grew more intense. Through the brass-encased lens he saw a man not much older than himself, with long black hair and a small beard, and dressed from head to foot in black leather, with a white frilled shirt. The man looked down to where Crane was hiding and smiled at him and, raising his hand, gave a gentle wave. Crane looked again and the man was gone.
Soon Crane was at the entrance to the hidden tunnel that led from the cliff to the Vicarage. In the clearing he could see Blythe and Skerry. At their feet was a storm lantern and a small wooden barrel. Gunpowder!
He hastened to them. ‘Well done, lads, that’s just what we need. It should be enough to shake old Demurral from his bed. That’s if he hasn’t been shaken enough today,’ he said.
‘It was the cliff at North Cheek – fell completely into the sea – that and half of Baytown,’ Skerry replied.
‘What about my ship?’
‘After the landslide when the earth moved there was a large wave that came across the bay,’ said Blythe as he looked at Skerry. ‘We watched as the wave hit your ship, it lifted her up like a cork in a bottle then dropped her down again as if nothing had happened. It shook the whole of the mine, felt like the end of the world.’
‘That may be closer than you think, lads,’ said Crane as he reached for the gunpowder. ‘Let’s get into the tunnel and give the old dog the surprise of his life, or should I say death?’
He stepped inside. The roof dripped with water and the walls were covered with a thick slimy moss. The three men walked into the tunnel. Crane stopped and looked back into the daylight. He waited.
‘A problem, Captain?’ asked Blythe.
‘Just waiting. I think someone has an interest in our journey. I want to see if I am being followed or if the affairs of the last two days are softening my mind.’
*
Under the protective branches of the yew tree and surrounded by the thick bushes, Kate kept the knife pointed at Beadle, who was holding the box of snakes at an unsteady arm’s length. Raphah and Thomas looked out from the undergrowth trying to see the Dragoons.
‘Which way do we go, Thomas?’ Raphah asked. ‘Through the house and into the tunnel or down the path to the mine?’
Thomas thought for several seconds, weighing up each option. ‘The house and then the tunnel. It’ll give us greater cover, but we’ll have to get by Demurral.’
‘I’ll help you get through,’ Beadle offered.
‘No, Beadle.’ Kate spoke sharply as she held the sword towards him. ‘I don’t think we can trust you. We’ll take you with us and once we’re free from the house we’ll let you go. Keep quiet or I will take off your ears and make them into a purse.’ She laughed, feeling she had found a new strength; now they were free from the tower, escape could be possible. Kate thought of her home high on the cliffs of Baytown. She wanted to see if it was still there and find her father.
Raphah looked at the cloud spreading its glow across the sky.
‘We haven’t got much time, maybe two days at the most,’ he said. ‘Demurral has done something to the world without even realizing it when he used the Keruvim. He could even have released the Glashan. If they are free they will find us in time.’
‘What are Glashan?’ Thomas asked.
‘They are creatures that I have never wanted to meet. Creatures so evil that you could not even dream what they could do in this world. Before the start of time the Glashan rebelled against Riathamus. They tried to conquer the homeland but the Seruvim fought against them and many of them fell in battle. The one who leads them was cast to the earth; he has tempted men since that day. The power of the Glashan has been bound since the time of the Great Capture, when Riathamus defeated them at the Battle of the Skull. Their leader was a creature called Pyratheon; he has wanted the Keruvim since its creati
on. My family has always guarded it from him but one of our own helped to bring it here and sold it to Demurral.’ Raphah spoke quietly. ‘There are two Keruvim in the world, one is made of gold, the other of flesh. Today we stand in your midst.’
‘So that’s why Demurral wants to kill you,’ Kate said.
‘Yes, and if he does, then the Glashan will again fight Riathamus. The Great Capture will be over. Demurral believes the Keruvim to be a magical trinket that he can use at his whim. Pyratheon would never allow him to control its power. Demurral is in more danger than he knows.’
‘What will happen if Demurral does this?’ Thomas asked.
‘It is written that the moon will turn to blood, the sky will grow dark and the earth will be struck by a falling star that will poison the seas. There will be plagues upon the earth and wars and earthquakes shall destroy every city. The earth will then fall into the captivity of Pyratheon for one thousand years. It would be better that we should all die than go through those times.’ Raphah stepped deeper into the shade of the yew tree for fear of being heard by unwanted ears. He beckoned for them to draw closer. ‘Demurral will suffer for his greed; Pyratheon will demand all that is due to him. He will try to capture the Keruvim before the end of the full moon.’
‘How can he be stopped when there are only three of us?’ Kate questioned Raphah as she kept her eyes fixed on Beadle.
‘There is a feast that is kept in this land called Samhain; some call it Halloween. On that night the gate that holds back the Glashan from this world is at its weakest. I have to be out of the country by then and I have to have the Keruvim with me. Pyratheon is limited in his power; he cannot be in two places at once. He is not all-powerful and relies on the work of his followers; their fortune cards, séances and witchcraft are all part of his deception. They that do his will shall be destroyed with him,’ Raphah said, holding the Keruvim close to his chest.
