As he was pulled up over the edge of the balcony, movement out by the front gate caught his eye. A billowing cloud of fog hung nearly ten feet in the air, throbbing and rolling in several directions at once. Cade could see faces appear and disappear within its depths, each one seeming in agony, their mouths open wide in silent screams.
A hooded figure stepped out of its depths and lifted its head to look in Cade’s direction. It raised one hand as if in recognition.
The Necromancer and the Templar commander stared at each other across the distance.
A wave of cold washed across Cade’s form. He knew instinctively that he was looking at the individual directly responsible for the attacks on the Templar strongholds. Here was the Enemy he sought.
He triggered his Sight.
An additional aura of crimson, grey, and black surrounded the Necromancer, mixing with the grayish white shade of the sorcerer’s own aura.
The sight of it made Cade’s heart cry out in horrific pain.
He knew that pattern.
He didn’t know how or why. He just knew instinctively what it meant.
Without ever having seen it before, Cade knew that he was looking at the mark of the Adversary.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
In the aftermath of the attack, Cade and his men caught a few moments of privacy and compared notes. Olsen explained what he and Riley had found, revealing the existence of a special unit in the Order and to whom it reported. Cade, in turn, told them about his encounter with Spencer and the shade’s belief that whoever was attacking them was doing so in order to locate and retrieve the Spear of Longinus.
Things were finally starting to make some sense, though they were still no closer to uncovering the identity of those behind it all.
Now, two hours later, Cade moved throughout the first floor, stopping briefly to talk to the defenders. His very presence, normally something that made most of the men nervous, was a welcome balm to their spirit, knowing as they did that it was the Knight Commander alone who had turned the tide of battle in their favor. While he walked, Cade checked on the preparations being made, making certain they were covered in the unlikely event that the Necromancer and his allies tried again. He reassured the wounded, letting them know that the Order’s medical staff would be with them as soon as possible and seeing to it that any mortally wounded soldiers were immediately removed to the infirmary.
When he was finished he moved to the second floor and did the same. Eventually, he ended up on the balcony overlooking the entrance to the manor house, watching the recovery team move across the wide patch of front lawn as they checked for any revenants that might still be alive. An occasional gunshot punctuated their work, as they sent their former comrades off to their rest.
Cade’s cell phone rang.
Still intent on watching the recovery team, he absentmindedly removed it from his belt and answered the call. “Williams.”
“Commander Cade Williams?”
The voice was British and not one he recognized.
Cade went instantly on alert. His phone was unlisted; no one but the senior Templar commanders and his own sergeants knew he could be reached at this number.
Cade chose to answer with a question of his own. “Who is this?”
“My name is Nigel Stone. Can I assume I am speaking with Knight Commander Williams?”
“Yes, this is Williams. Now who are you, what do you want, and how did you get this number?”
Stone chuckled. “Easy, Commander. I’ll be happy to answer your questions but one at a time please. First, are you alone?”
Williams looked around. There were several men on the observation deck with him, but all were far enough away to be out of earshot.
“I’m alone.”
“Good. As I mentioned, my name is Nigel Stone. Knight Commander Stone, to be precise. My compliments to your Sergeant Olsen. Very few individuals have ever managed to penetrate the security around my unit.”
Connections were suddenly made. “You’re the head of the Custodes Veritatis.”
“Correct. And I think it is time we talked.”
It was Cade’s turn to laugh. “You’ve got that right. It’s a dangerous game you’re playing, you realize, especially if your unit is the target of these attacks.”
Stone ignored Cade’s thinly veiled threat. “Rather than have you continue to rout through our files, I thought it might be best to share what we know to date and work together on this.”
“I’m listening,” Cade replied.
“Not on the phone. I would prefer to meet face-to-face. While we still remain one step ahead of our attackers, they are closing the gap, and I’m concerned our security may be breached.”
Cade considered that for a few moments. “Why?” he finally asked. “What do you know that I don’t?”
“As I said, I’d prefer to discuss this in person. Are you familiar with Otter Lake?”
“Yes.” It was a small mountain town north of Utica, about three hours drive from the Broadmoor commandery where Cade was.
Stone gave him an address. “I’ll meet you there at six this evening. I’ll expect you, and possibly one of your squad members, but no one else. If I see you’ve ignored my instructions, I’ll be gone, and you’ll be back to square one.”
Cade chuckled ironically. “What’s the matter, Stone? Don’t you trust me?”
The other man’s answer was sobering.
“Right now, I don’t trust anyone.”
Cade was left listening to a dial tone and wondering just how deep the corruption ran.
*** ***
Two hours later Cade made excuses to the local commander and set off for Otter Lake. He’d made the decision to take Duncan along with him to the meeting. Olsen and Riley would remain nearby, sequestered in a local motel in case they got into trouble. For all he knew Stone could be behind it all, and Cade wanted his men close by just in case.
He signed two black Ford Expeditions out of the motor pool, and the squad split up. They traveled north until Albany, then headed west. Just past Utica they left the four-lane highway behind in favor of a two-lane state road that would take them up into the Adirondack Mountains to Otter Lake.
Otter Lake was a small mountain community that was home to less than five hundred residents in the summer and considerably less during the hard winter months. It was on Route 28, a road notorious for its impassability in the midst of winter storms. And as luck would have it, the rain began pounding against their windows halfway through the trip.
A few miles south of their destination they began looking for a motel. It didn’t take long to find one that would suit their purposes; a central lodge surrounded by individual cabins just off the main stretch of road. A neon sign blinked VACANCY, and Cade turned into the parking lot. It was close enough that Olsen and Riley could be counted on to reach them quickly in an emergency.
The four of them assembled at the table in the common room of the cabin they were assigned.
Cade went over the plan one last time. “I don’t expect to be gone more than an hour, two at the most. If you don’t hear from us by eight o’clock, assume that something went wrong. Get some backup from Major Barnes and come on in after us. If things go completely to shit, you’re going to need to go to Bristol and confront Michaels. Make him tell you where the Lance is and what he intends to do to protect it. Threaten him if you must. Do whatever you have to, but don’t let that weapon fall into the enemy’s hands, or we’re all up shit creek. That’s an order. Understood?”
The two sergeants nodded in agreement.
Cade took a few moments to study the local map Olsen had snagged from the hotel clerk, then was ready to go.
The map showed that the address Nigel Stone had given them was only another fifteen miles farther north of their position, but the winding road and bad weather forced them to go slowly and kept their pace to a minimum. As Cade drove, Duncan double-checked both of their MP5s and made certain they had ample ammunition.
The house was a newly built two-story structure with a stucco-and-fieldstone facing. Several arched windows, decorated with lintels and set in wide majestic gables, looked out onto the front lawn.
Cade stepped up and rang the bell.
When no one answered, Cade tried the door.
At the touch of his hand, it swung open slowly.
He and Duncan looked at each other.
An unspoken signal passed between them.
Guns in hand, the two men stepped across the threshold. They entered a brilliantly lit entry, its ceiling soaring eighteen feet overhead. The silence hung heavy about the place, as if it had been deserted for some time.
Room by room, they made their way through the house. The first floor held a master bedroom and bath, a kitchen, dining room, family room, and a guest room. A wide central staircase led to the second floor. There an L-shaped corridor bisected the floor, giving way to the upper portion of the family room from the first floor, two more bedrooms, and another bath.
At the end of a long hallway was a study.
It was there that they found Stone.
He was naked, tied to a straight-backed chair in the center of the room. Wide gaping holes had been gouged into his chest, legs, and arms. He hadn’t been dead for long.
“Shit!” Cade swore.
Duncan could only stare in stunned disbelief. To have come so close…
But Cade was not to be deterred. “Fuck this!” he exclaimed loudly and stepped up close to the corpse, pulling off his gloves as he did so.
Divining his commander’s intentions, Duncan said, “I’m not certain that’s such a good idea.” The memory of Cade’s teeth clamped leechlike on his right arm was still very much in the forefront of his mind.
“We don’t have any other choice. If we know what happened, we have a chance of staying ahead of the game. This is the only way of getting that information.”
“But what happens if you lose control, like you did in the cemetery?”
Cade’s answer was matter-of-fact. “Shoot me.”
Duncan struggled to come up with a response.
Without waiting for his answer, Cade grasped the hands of the corpse on the chair before him.
A fireplace, then a small watercolor of snowcapped mountains.
The painting is lifted off the wall, and a small piece of paper is taped to its back.
Darkness.
A face hidden in the shadows of a cowled robe.
“Where is the Spear?” it asks.
Something small and vicious is half-hidden in the robed one’s cupped hands.
The pair move closer and the beast, all teeth, claws, and glistening yellow eyes, is deposited on the bare skin of Stone’s stomach.
As if on cue, the creature begins tunneling into his flesh.
Another set of teeth join the first. They tear at the hole the first creature made, widening it.
His vision wavering in the pain, he forces himself to look down.
His daughter, dead and buried for more than eleven years, grins up at him as her teeth find the edge of his exposed intestine, and she begins to devour it.
*** ***
Cade staggered away from the corpse, his stomach churning. The sensations and memories he’d just witnessed surged in the forefront of his mind, seeking to swamp his hold on reality, but he fought them back down and buried them in their own little dark corner in the cellar of his mind. He let his anger at what the Enemy had done to his brother Knight cleanse the fog away, let it focus his attention on what needed to be done.
The clock was ticking, and the Enemy was still out there.
“Anything?” Duncan asked, from a safe position on the other side of the room.
Cade nodded. “He left us a note.” He proceeded to describe the painting, but left out the rest of the horrific scene he’d witnessed. There were some things that only the dead should know.
They did a quick search of the house, finally locating the watercolor in a small storage room on the lower floor. Cade lifted it off the wall and removed the small slip of paper that had been jammed into the edge of the frame.
Written on it in pencil were a series of letters and numbers: B27 31 8 16.
“What do you think? Map coordinates?”
“Might also be the combination to a safe,” Cade replied, “or the catalog number to a library book.”
“There was a safe in the study.”
When they checked, they found that the safe had already been opened, however, and whatever it might have contained was long gone. Cade closed the door and spun the dial, then checked the numbers from the paper against it.
The door remained firmly shut.
“Okay, that’s one possibility down. Only a couple thousand more to go,” he said, with a rueful grin. Moving to the telephone sitting on a stand across the room, he called Riley and filled him in on what had occurred. He asked him to report Stone’s death to Major Barnes and request that a recovery team be sent to the house as soon as possible. After agreeing to meet back at the hotel in twenty minutes, he hung up.
“All right. We’ve done all we can here. Let’s regroup with the others.”
The two men descended to the ground floor and headed for the front door.
Just outside, they found five black-robed figures standing between them and their vehicle.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“In the name of the Lord Almighty, I call upon you to relinquish your weapons and receive the mercy of Christ the King.”
Since the time of the Crusades, the Templar Rule has required that all enemies be given the chance to surrender and accept the divine grace of the Lord before hostilities can commence. Knowing what a stickler for such things Duncan seemed to be, Cade was not surprised to hear him give voice to the ritual challenge.
Even less surprising was the response the call received.
As one, the five sorcerers, dressed identically to the one Major Barnes’ men had slain back at the Broadmoor commandery, raised their arms. Their leader began chanting in some ancient tongue, while the others began to weave their hands rhythmically through the air.
Duncan, apparently, had had enough for one day. “You have five seconds to surrender, or I’ll open fire.” His voice was steady, and he punctuated his statement by pointing his gun in their direction.
Watching all this, Cade knew Duncan’s efforts were in vain. The sorcerers had baited their trap; he and Duncan had unwittingly fallen into it. As he drew his own weapon, he triggered his Sight.
The sudden link to the Beyond allowed him to see the blue witchfire that sprang forth with each motion of the sorcerers’ hands, the power gathering in a rapidly growing sphere that shimmered just before them.
Cade watched as a rift appeared in the air between him and that spherical shield. It hung several feet off the ground, a small ball of incandescence that quickly began to grow and spread. From its silvery green surface a clawed hand appeared, a hand that was soon followed by an arm that grasped the edge of the opening like a physical thing and pulled the rest of its body through.
The spectre’s face was hideous, a twisted parody of a human visage, warped by whatever evil passions consumed the creature. As its eyes came to rest on Cade it grinned, revealing rows of needle-sharp teeth and a spiked tongue.
Behind it, several others began to pour forth to join their brethren.
Despite the fact that they didn’t have the same solidity of form that a revenant had, the spectres were actually more dangerous. Their wraithlike forms could cause just as much, if not more, harm than the rotting body of a revenant, and had the added advantage of being impervious to almost all ordinary weaponry. They were creatures of spirit and will, manifestations of pure evil, and so weapons unconnected to the emotion of the wielder could do them little harm. It took something blessed to really affect them, and, even then, several strikes were required before they were completely taken out of the picture.
Cade knew that Duncan couldn’t see th
e mystical shield the sorcerers had created to protect themselves, but the portal and its inhabitants were clearly visible. As Cade watched, Duncan sprung into action, opening fire with his MP5.
Unfortunately, Duncan didn’t have nearly the same level of experience with such beings as Cade did. He targeted the emerging spectres, and his bullets tore into the wraithlike creatures with no effect, simply passing through them to bounce off the arcane shield the sorcerers had erected.
Cade fired his own weapon, though not at the spectres. They were creatures of spirit and will, manifestations of the evil that once drove them in life, and so weapons unconnected to the emotion of the wielder could do them no harm. Instead he targeted the sorcerers summoning them, attempting to get past the barrier that they had erected to protect themselves.
His shots met the same fate as Duncan’s.
The spectres swarmed about in front of the sorcerers, but made no attempt to attack the two Knights.
Cade knew the situation wouldn’t remain that way for long.
Next to him, Duncan’s weapon ran dry and went silent.
“Move!” Cade cried, slinging his gun and drawing his sword in preparation for the onslaught he knew was to come.
As if on cue, the spectres charged.
Duncan and Cade made it as far as the steps before the spectres burst upon them like a cyclone. Shrieking in rage and hunger, the wraithlike creatures rushed the two Knights as they turned to face their attackers at the foot of the steps, swords in hand.
Cade fought like a demon himself, snarling his fury, directing every ounce of his anger down through the weapon at his attackers. All the anger and frustration he’d felt at the sight of Stone’s mutilated body poured out of him now that he had a target. His sword spun like a dervish, striking with deadly accuracy, neither giving nor receiving any quarter from his foes. Beside him, Duncan swung his weapon with equal ferocity.
The spectres swarmed around them, striving to pierce their defenses, to gain the opportunity to sink their fangs into their flesh or rake them with their claws. At the same time, the blessed blades of the Knights sought to pierce the unnatural forms of the spectres, sending them back across the portal with a shriek of pain and a flash of witchfire every time they connected. The combination of the Knights’ martial skill and the added protection of their ceramic body armor kept them from suffering any serious wounds, though they were both bleeding from half a dozen minor injuries by the time they beat back the first wave of the attack.
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