by G Mottram
Brash pulled out the chair to his right and Alicia walked sinuously around the table, her fingers tracing the tops of the chairs.
Brash and Jason sat down once Alicia was settled and almost immediately, Myers reappeared from the south transept. This time he was accompanied by two suited footmen carrying silver platters. The meal was laid out quickly – plates of cold hams, cheeses, breads, pickles and fruit, together with chilled water in iced crystal. Jason began to carefully load up his plate, terrified of dropping something and appearing gauche in front of Alicia.
‘So you have decided to train with us at last, have you Jason?’ Alicia asked, deftly spearing some meat with a serving fork.
‘Yes, yes I have. I can’t wait to learn how to use my Gift… oh,’ Jason shut up, glancing over at the departing footmen and then up at Brash. Quietly, he asked ‘… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… does everyone here know about the Gift and… things…’
Brash raised his eyebrows. ‘We’re a bit stuffed now if they didn’t, aren’t we…?’ He left his words hanging for a moment, putting down his cutlery and reaching for some water. Then he winked. ‘Actually, everyone who lives and works in the abbey itself knows about the whole of… our world. Do remember though, outside – even in Darkston Village, few people know anything apart from this is the head quarters of Drunken Abbot Industries. Nobody knows what we really do here.’
Jason nodded, then thought he’d take Brash’s answer as an opening. ‘What exactly are you doing here, Mr Brash? I mean, I know you’re training people in Jakra and their Gift, but why? Dad said it was just the injured that came here… to be relocated somewhere safe?’
Brash nodded. ‘Well, you know, Jason, the struggle doesn’t just stop when you leave the Carpathians … the injured or mentally broken Gifted can sometimes be brought back into the fight – rehabilitated if you like. And of course, many have Gifted youngsters who come back with them or they start new families here. The entire future of the Watch depends on safe enclaves like this to provide the next generation of hunters.’
‘So you’re training everyone here to join or rejoin the Watch?’
Brash smiled. ‘They will be hunting down the Brethren one way or another, that’s for sure.’
‘And what do you think about joining the Watch?’ Alicia asked, looking at him over the rim of her silver-rimmed goblet, her emerald eyes sparkling above the sun-shot crystal.
Jason tore his eyes from hers to clear his mind. He reached for his water and almost knocked over the glass. ‘I still don’t really understand what I’d be getting into… what the hunting is all about.’
‘It might be easier to understand what you would be hunting before worrying about how,’ Brash cut in. ‘For that we need to flit through about six hundred years of history.’ He swept his hand over the platters laid out before them.
‘Help yourself Jason, this may take some time.’
Jason nodded and began to top up his plate as Brash began to talk.
‘It began, as far as we can tell, towards the end of the Fourteenth Century. In the heart of the Southern Carpathian Mountains there arose a cult known simply as the Brethren. They were, in fact, an order of dark monks who had discovered what we now call the Rift. This is a sort of weakening in the barrier between this world and a many-layered dimension where demons are supposed to be sealed away from humanity. We call that the abyss.
Jason cut in. ‘Sorry, but what exactly are demons? I mean, I’ve seen the films but…’
‘No one knows for sure – the souls of evil human perhaps, the embodiments of evil acts, fallen angels, beings from one of the infinite planes of existence, dark gods, aliens? Now back to my thrilling history lesson, if you don’t mind?’ Brash raised an eyebrow and Jason nodded, mumbling an apology.
‘So the Brethren worked out how to summon demons through the Rift. Only a few people were capable of summoning however, and as no one can control more than a single demon, we estimate there have never been more than a few dozen on this side. However, right from the beginning the Brethren always made best use of their summonings by attempting to possess the powerful - provincial nobility, army generals and religious leaders, that sort of thing. It worked and the Brethren began to gain power and influence in what we now call Romania.’
‘After about a century of the Brethren’s slow rise to power, the Watch was born. It started as a sort of pseudo-Christian faith that began to track down people who were rumoured to have special powers – powers to make things move, to perform impossible feats of strength, to become almost invulnerable to weapons or fire. Now in those days, of course, the choices for such people were fairly limited – hope nobody notices, run away and hide or be burned as a witch. The Watch however saw these powers as gifts from God which could be used to fight evil. So they began gathering these Gifted and their families together and hiding them away in remote locations to protect them against the witch hunters. Eventually, Gifted people started seeking out the Watch on their own, to join the one church who accepted them rather than burning them to a crisp.’
Alicia picked up the story in her velvet tones as Brash took a sip from his water, ‘The Watch grew quickly. Family and friends of the Gifted often came with them and they helped protect the settlements. They began to travel out across Europe, setting up other small enclaves from which to track down more Gifted. They followed any rumours of people with strange powers and caught up with the families of those burned as witches and warlocks in case a Gifted parent or child had survived. To be seen to be on the right side of God, some of the Watch enclaves would portray themselves as witch finders, often in a life or death race to reach the Gifted before other churches.’
Brash coughed. ‘This is my story, I believe, Alicia.’
Alicia raised her eyes with an indulgent smile then nodded for Brash to continue.
‘So more and more Gifted were tracked down or found their own way to the Watch enclaves and they all learned from each other just what they could do with their gift from God. It wasn’t long before they crossed paths with the Brethren – probably following stories of leaders who seemed to have inhuman strength and other “magical powers”. Of course, they quickly realised these people weren’t Gifted, but possessed, and so the fight began.
Hunted by the Watch, the Brethren were forced back into the Carpathians and turned to ever greater strategies of stealth, corruption and secrecy. Slowly the “normal” world forgot about them - blurring history into legend and legend into myth.’
‘But you said the Brethren were getting stronger and beginning to win.’ Jason said.
‘For many reasons, Jason.’ Brash said, topping up all their glasses with water and skewering himself some more cold meat. ‘The balance of power between the Watch and the Brethren has always gone in cycles over the centuries. Only certain people in the Brethren can actually summon demons – Summoners we call them, oddly enough. Similarly, only some people in the Watch are Gifted. As one side finds or draws in more of these special people then they become more dominant. What gives the Brethren an advantage is that one person possessed by a high order demon can empower and control perhaps a score or more humans by infecting them with their own corrupted blood – we call that Touching.’
‘Dad told me a bit about that,’ Jason said, ‘the Touched people get stronger or something.’
Brash nodded. ‘The victim then becomes like a… mini-possessed – they develop abnormal strength and some ability to heal its wounds.’
‘How strong do they get?’
‘It depends on the rank of the demon biting them but they would at least double their normal strength and resilience. They get a little stronger each time they’re bitten… stronger but more desperate for human blood and flesh to replenish their own, demon corrupted body.’
Alicia cut in. ‘Once they have been bitten three times they can never recover – they have too much demon essence in them and they can’t live without it.’
‘But why don’t the victims
just escape before then?’ Jason asked.
Alicia pursed her full and lovely lips. ‘Even after the first bite, a Touched is filled with a craving to return to the demon for more. Also, the Touching establishes a link with the demon – it can coerce them to its will and even tune in to their senses when they’re close.’
‘So, in today’s world, the Brethren are winning for two reasons,’ Brash pulled the attention back to himself. ‘Their demons touch politicians, security chiefs, business heads… anyone who will be useful to them as they slowly spread out over Europe.
At the same time, the Watch has diminished - entire Gifted families have been hunted down and wiped out and others have left us - sick of the slaughter like your father or fearful of their entire family line being destroyed. We call them the Lost. Sometimes they come back to us or we find the descendants of Lost families from centuries ago but it doesn’t happen enough and the Brethren sometimes get there before us.’
‘So,’ Brash smiled, ‘you can see why I am so desperate to bring you into the fight.’
Jason nodded. ‘That’s another thing I don’t really understand – what difference could I make? What exactly will I be able to do when I’m trained?’
Brash shook his head. ‘Now the answer to that will come clear as soon as you begin to learn your Gift,’ he pushed his chair back, slapping Jason on the shoulder as he stood up.
‘Still, it may turn out that you’re totally rubbish and no use to us after all.’
‘Somehow, I don’t think that will be the case,’ Alicia purred, winking at Jason as she dabbed at the corner of her mouth with her napkin.
Jason stood up as Brash eased Alicia’s chair backwards to allow her to stand. She smoothed down her bodice and skirts although there wasn’t a crumb on her.
‘Now, we need someone to show you to your rooms so you can change for a little Jakra assessment…’ Brash said, drawing Jason’s attention back to him.
Alicia looked heavenwards. ‘Oh now, I think I might be able to manage that.’ She smiled at Jason and raised both eyebrows a fraction. Jason’s cheeks caught fire.
At that moment, Myers, who had faded away after serving lunch, re-appeared at the bottom of the stairs. ‘Master Jason’s rooms are prepared, sir. Shall I take him down?’
‘That’s all right, Myers, I’ll take him.’ Alicia said, stepping forward and slipping one cool hand into Jason’s.
‘I don’t think so,’ Brash said, his gaze flitting to their held hands. ‘Jason doesn’t need any distraction from his training. Myers can take him.’
Alicia made a disappointed face then gave Jason’s hand a secret squeeze before she let it slip away.
‘This way, Jason, if you please.’ Myers said.
Jason walked down the steps to join the butler. ‘Spoil-sport,’ he heard Alicia petulantly whisper to Brash.
‘You’re not free to “sport” with anybody,’ Brash replied, his voice sharper than normal.
Jason suppressed a grin and glanced back up the stairs. Surely Alicia wasn’t doing anything more than teasing him but Brash did seem perturbed by it all.
Alicia smiled at him and Brash raised a hand. Jason gave a short wave back and turned to watch where he was going.
They were walking between the gothic bays and now he could see that in each bay, perfectly lit by gentle hues of natural and artificial light, were the most wonderful works of art.
Jason gaped at the treasures as Myers led him quickly clicking over the black marble floor. There were oil paintings in heavy, gilded frames; statues in all conceivable materials; sculptures; bejewelled relic caskets; cases of ancient jewellery and crowns; gilded and precious stone studded weapons and armour, all of it backed by ancient, golden threaded tapestries.
They stopped in front of the overwhelming black mahogany doors at the entrance to the church. Jason took the opportunity to look back down the aisle. Brash and Alicia had disappeared but from this distance he could make out the design on the stunning stained glass window behind the dining table - some holy man blessing the spirit of a deceased woman as it rose to heaven while his hooded disciples calmed the wild beasts of the forest… mainly wolves.
Myers slid aside a marble panel and tapped some lengthy number combination into a concealed keypad then pressed his thumb onto a small squared section.
There was a soft whirring and clicking and the doors opened effortlessly outwards. Myers led Jason onto the steps and twisted a golden ring on the outside of the still opening doors. They eased to a halt and began to close again.
Myers waited until the doors clicked shut. ‘A word of warning,’ he said, ‘- no one can enter or leave the church unless Mr Brash has released the master lock – do ensure you’re not left in there when the master leaves the grounds or no one will be able to get you out until his return.’
‘You could smash a window,’ Jason joked.
‘All bullet proof glass, I’m afraid, my young heathen,’ Myers smiled and led the way down the dozen steps splaying out from the church doors.
They crunched across the gravel, hot and glaring white in the afternoon sun, passed the many arched doors of the garage and arrived at the sprawling three storey manor house on the south side.
The house was faced not in black marble, but in grey stone blocks laced with pale ivy.
‘The Guest House,’ Myers announced. ‘It is a great deal more homely than the abbey, you’ll be glad to hear.’
Jason smiled but then a movement caught his eye through a gap between the guest house and the end of the garages. A footbridge crossed the Darkston River and beyond that, two men stood half hidden, just at the edge of the valley tree line. They wore Brash Security blue with a holster openly strapped to their right legs and a rifle barrel rising over each of their shoulders.
Myers followed Jason’s stare.
‘Clumsy.’ he tutted and pointed two fingers at the men like a gun. They sank back into the trees. ‘They’re meant to be discrete so as not to perturb guests and business associates.’
He led Jason up one of the twin bank of steps curving gently around a stone bench up to the doorway. To either side, two huge matching windows stared darkly out at them.
Myers lifted a cover to one side of the door and again tapped in a series of numbers and pressed his thumb onto a small pad. There was a tiny click as the door swung open and he led Jason inside.
They were in an entrance hall. A large fireplace, cold and dead now, dominated the far wall with a dozen white draped armchairs scattered around it. Statues leapt out at him from alcoves all around the wall – skeletal horrors, gargoyles and the odd knight in armour.
‘I thought you said this place was homely,’ Jason said.
‘It softens somewhat with the fire lit and you students lounging around moaning about the Jakra masters.’ Myers said, smiling. ‘Come on, we had better get a move on. You don’t want to be late for training, take my word for it.’
Myers quickly led Jason through a door on the left and along a corridor passed identical panelled oak doors, each with a tiny gold number in the centre and a gold rimmed keypad to the right. Then it was up a narrow stone spiral stairway to a second floor which was the same as the first.
Myers stopped outside door number twenty six and reached for the keypad.
‘Three – Zero – three – two,’ he said aloud as he typed in the numbers, ‘and don’t forget the thumb pad.’ The door clicked open. ‘Will you remember that?’
‘You haven’t got my prints on your system yet, though,’ Jason said, glancing at the pad.
Myers just smiled and eased the door wide open.
Jason hesitated for a moment but it was obvious he wasn’t going to get an explanation. He shrugged and stepped a little way into the room.
Inside, there was a carved mahogany single bed, a small wardrobe, one chair and a table with a small plasma screen television on it. A bay window stood open on the far side of the room letting in light and warmth from the afternoon sun. It had a
seat built into the bay which would be perfect for flopping out on and reading. Another door led off to the right.
‘The staff have placed some of our delightful training kit in the wardrobe for you. Don’t be long… I’ll wait for you in the entrance hall.’
‘Okay,’ Jason said.
Myers nodded and turned to go. ‘Oh – press the gold button to get out. The red one is for reception.’ Myers pointed to a couple of buttons on the left of the door then disappeared back down the corridor. The door silently closed by itself.
Jason walked over to the larger window in the bedroom. A slight breeze greeted him and he sat down on the red cushioned bay seat. His room overlooked a small courtyard with an ancient tree growing out of the flag-stoned centre.
Three floors of windows identical to his stared back at him from all sides – each of them dark and closed.
There was a small gold button buried in the stone frame of his window. Jason pressed it and the window began to shut. He pressed it again and the window opened again letting the breeze and a soft rustle of leaves back in. Jason smiled. He liked this room already. Perhaps he’d stay in the abbey for a while especially if Dad gave him a hard time when he confessed he was going to learn his Gift with Brash.
Jason opened the wardrobe and found his training kit – close fitting but stretchy dark blue trousers, matching T-shirt and black trainers. He changed, pressed the gold button next to the door and dashed down the corridor to the spiral steps. Myers was just starting to come up.
‘Ah there you are – I thought perhaps you had lost your way?’ he said, turning around and leading him quickly back to the entrance room.
‘Uhh, no, sorry… just playing with the window. Nice room.’
‘I’m glad you like it,’ Myers said, opening the front door using another gold-rimmed keypad. ‘It is the same number as your room code to get in and out – in fact that personal number matched with your thumbprint will get you in and out of any of the permitted areas in the abbey.’