Livingstone Saga, Book One: Birth

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Livingstone Saga, Book One: Birth Page 17

by Janell Rhiannon


  Father Avriel arched his eyebrow in surprise. Celestino’s sullenness did not pass unnoticed by him either. “The jasper and sard, Father?”

  “Sí. I found both stones peddled in the market place. Trinkets for pilgrims, right next to the scallop shells of Saint James! The villagers say they are collected along the shoreline, tumbled smooth by sea and sand.”

  “Is this all the information you garnered? If the stones are common place, then they must bring no harm. There are no legions of souls flying across the sea to the Gates of Hell from Finis Terrae. The walking damned originate from Santiago.”

  “I plucked these from the ground,” Celestino reached into his pocket, pulling out an orange polished stone.

  “Why did you keep such a find from me?” Father Tomas asked indignantly.

  “You did not ask. It was meant only as token.”

  “A token of what?” Father Tomas asked angrily.

  “May I examine it?” Father Avriel asked. Celestino handed him the stone. The priest traced the stone with his finger, turning it over and over in his hand. “Where did you find this? Tell me exactly.”

  “In the sand along the trail’s edge of Monte Facho.”

  “Did you search for it?”

  “No. It was there in the sand.”

  “Waiting for you...have you any idea what this stone is?” Father Avriel asked.

  “Let me see that,” Father Tomas snapped, as he snatched the stone from the younger priest. He ran his fingers over the unfamiliar markings. It was different than the market stones he had collected. “Do you, Brother? Do you know what these strange markings are?”

  “It has been ages since I have laid eyes upon one of these. If these are the stones Iseo saw the midwife using, then I have no doubt Santiago and your cathedral at Compostela are in grave danger.”

  Father Tomas’s curiosity about Father Avriel’s knowledge pushed him to press for answers. “What do you know?”

  “You must find the midwife and confiscate her stones. All of them.”

  “Brother Avriel! You are frightening me. What do you know about these stones? These markings? If they are some pagan superstition, we can just inform the midwives and they will stop using them.”

  “You do not understand, Brother Tomas. These are not pagan in origin. On the contrary, they are far more powerful than you can imagine.”

  “What are they?!”

  “They are the Tears of the Fallen.”

  Father Tomas’s mouth opened in disbelief. “What? I have not read of any such thing in the Codex! How have you come by such knowledge and I have not? I have studied this subject for most of my life.” He pulled the Codex from the secret compartment and let it fall open on his table. “Tears of the Fallen?” He began frantically flipping pages, running his finger across line after line, looking for any reference to what Father Avriel revealed.

  “Brother!” Father Avriel’s voice shook the room. Father Tomas fell into his chair. “You will not find the reference you seek in your Codex, it is not there. Calm yourself.”

  “But what of these stones?” Father Tomas asked.

  “It is not the stones themselves. It is the markings they bear which imbue the curse. Do as I command. Find the midwife and confiscate the stones. All of them. A larger problem exists of which you are unaware, and I must attend to that myself.”

  “We will do as you ask, Father,” Celestino said.

  *

  Father Avriel found Father Antony and Iseo preparing trencher bread in the kitchen. Iseo looked up in surprise.

  “Father Avriel,” she said, as she pushed a stray hair from her eyes with her wrist, smudging flour across her forehead. He could see why Celestino was drawn to her. “What brings you to the kitchen?”

  “I wish to speak to Father Antony,” he said. “Alone.” Iseo looked to her superior for permission.

  Father Antony waved her out. “Go on. I am sure you can find some other chores to do.” Iseo needed no further encouragement to get out of the kitchen. She took her apron off, laid it on the edge of the wooden table, and practically ran from the building.

  “What do you want with me?” asked the cranky old priest.

  “You know what I want...Brother.”

  “I told you before I do not know anything.”

  Father Avriel took a step closer to the other priest. “I need to know,” he said, as he stepped closer yet again, “who is giving you the gold and the stones?”

  “The gold is none of your concern. Neither are the stones,” Father Antony said, pushing the baking slab loaded with fresh dough into the bread oven.

  “Do you know what they are?” Father Avriel asked.

  “Something to do with midwives’ folklore. What is the harm in that?”

  “What of the summoning words? Where did you learn those?”

  Father Antony put the large table between himself and Father Avriel. “I know not what you speak of.”

  “I think you are lying,” the younger priest hissed. “About everything.”

  Father Antony panicked. He yelped, “I do not have the answers you wish to hear! Leave me alone!” He tried to escape the kitchen inquisition by breaking for the door behind him. When he turned to push through it, Father Avriel stood in his way.

  “Ah!” Father Antony fell back to the floor. “Leave me alone! Leave me alone!”

  “I am afraid that is impossible, Brother. I know what you have done. And you will pay dearly for your part.” Father Avriel hoisted the fat priest by the hooded collar of his robe, yanking him clean off the ground with a single arm. A booming voice thundered throughout the stone kitchen, as the room grew dark, “CONFESS!”

  “No! No! No!” Father Antony, his feet dangling above the floor, screamed as a brilliant light burnt his eyes blind.

  *

  Night brought only restlessness for Celestino. Since returning from Finis Terrae, he and Iseo had barely seen one another. They had spoken less than a dozen words to each other, and those only in passing. Their unspoken agreement of avoidance and mutual silence ached in his chest. All the words he longed to say kept him from trespassing into her chamber. He lay on the bed, staring into swaying and twisting shadows on the ceiling. The candles wasted into wet puddles spilling onto the bedside table.

  Celestino forced his eyes closed, willing sleep to take him to a different place, a place where missing Iseo did not exist. As he eased into the first gentle layer of slumber, the tingling sensation of every hair standing on end made him open his eyes to catch the shadows shimmering silver with the Archangel’s light.

  “I expected you, Archangel,” Celestino said, rising from the bed.

  “We must speak about the stones.” The Archangel’s presence filled the room with heat and luminous light emanating from his body like an aura in all directions.

  “Are they truly the Tears of the Fallen Angels?”

  “Who told you this?”

  “Father Avriel,” Celestino answered. “The carvings disturbed him. What do they mean?”

  “Each stone possesses a particular power called forth by sacred invocations.”

  “What kind of power?” Celestino asked.

  “When the disgraced angels fell to Earth, many realized they had been misled, betrayed by Lucifer’s shining promises. Many were ashamed. They wept and begged for forgiveness, but their pleas meant nothing to God.”

  “Because, they had but a single chance to choose God.”

  “Those who chose Lucifer rejected God, and He would not bend His Law for them. The order of Heaven does not allow redemption for any creature, save humans. In their grief, they wept until sangre mingled with their tears. God’s heart turned to stone against them, and their tears fell as stones upon the ground. The tears of angels, even Fallen angels, hold sacred power.”

  “How did they come to be used as weapons against mankind?”

  “The Fallen gathered up their tears and wandered for many years. As their resentment against mankind gr
ew, they succumbed to the Dark Lord of Hell. It was he who instructed the Fallen in how to turn their pain into power to wield against their enemies. He taught them markings to carve into their tears and incantations to use as weapons against humans. Lucifer, whose position was greatest in Heaven, and whose hatred of humans ran deeper than any other angel, sought a way to annihilate the object of God’s affection, the source of his greatest pain. He achieved the most lethal power of all the Fallen. His dark power is Soul Casting.”

  “This is not in the Codex. Father Tomas has not taught me this history.”

  “It is not contained in the Codex, because it is too dangerous. There is no counter for Soul Casting. It is a complete power. Its only weakness is that it can be used on one soul at a time.”

  “And you believe the midwife is using a Soul Casting stone in the village.”

  “There is no better way to send a multitude to Hell, than to damn their souls from the beginning. I believe Lucifer has flooded Santiago with his own tears. The soul casting stones.”

  “The priests can perform proper baptism on those who were tainted by use of such a stone.”

  “You do not understand. Baptism will not undo the curse. It is final. Only the one the tear belongs to can undo the Casting.”

  “I do not think Lucifer will undo what has been done,” Celestino thought aloud. “How did the midwives come to possess these?”

  “The treachery is near to you, Celestino. One of the Fathers peddles the sard and jasper for profit. Among the common stones were the Soul Casting stones, made from the Tears of Lucifer. The priest gave them to the midwives and the incantation to go with them.”

  “Who is the traitor?”

  “Father Antony.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “It is enough that I do.”

  Celestino sat with the knowledge. “There is nothing that can be done? To save the souls who have been cursed?”

  “No. It is a small victory for Lucifer and his Dark Lord. We must find the common stones and the Tears of Lucifer and destroy them, Celestino.”

  Celestino nodded agreement.

  “The midwife must be stopped, as they all must. Let no time be wasted. Instruct them all against the use of any superstitions over the unborn and their souls. They taint their baptisms and those using the Tears of Lucifer condemn the innocent straight to Hell. Begin with the woman called Madia.”

  “What count of souls fly damned to Hell’s Gates, Archangel?” Celestino asked. He felt the power of his beast rising to serve his purpose.

  “Thousands.”

  “I will leave tonight. I will find Iseo, and she will take me to the midwife.”

  The Archangel drew himself up to his full height, before he spoke, “You must beware the affection you bear for the female. She is an appealing, guileless creature...but she was meant for a different purpose. She is weak and will bind herself to you. And destroy you in doing so.”

  “I understand, Archangel. We will end this evil tonight,” Celestino said, even though the Archangel’s words stabbed at his heart. He placed his confusion aside to serve God’s purpose.

  “Wake Father Avriel. Take him with you to the midwife.” With a flash of silver stars, the Archangel vanished, blowing out the few candles that lingered with flame.

  *

  Celestino left the usual way to Iseo’s chamber. He knocked firmly. He heard Iseo stirring, then her soft footsteps to the door. “Who is it?” she whispered through the door.

  “Celestino,” he answered quietly. He heard the latch unlock and the door opened to Iseo’s face glowing by a single candle’s flame. He could not help but smile at her disheveled hair and sleepy eyes.

  “Is everything all right?” she asked.

  “No, it is not. The Archangel revealed the truth about the midwives’ stones.”

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  “There are two kinds of stones. The common sard and jasper. And the sacred stones bent to evil purpose.”

  “Superstitions for the pains of labor. How is that evil?”

  “The sacred stones are the Tears of the Fallen.” He let the knowledge take hold in her mind.

  “What do you mean fallen? The angels who fell to Earth?”

  “Sí. The stones that carry markings are their tears mingled with sangre turned to stone. These stones are not of this earth. And carry great power.”

  “Like livingstone,” Iseo said. It had never occurred to her until that moment that other elements of earth may not be wholly of this world. “We must stop them from use. And see all children to proper baptism.”

  “There is more,” Celestino continued, “and you will not wish to hear it, but it must be told.”

  “You frighten me.”

  “As you should be. The use of common sard and jasper is the minor offense. It is unfortunate, yet can be undone. I must ask a question.”

  “Anything.”

  “Did the stones Madia used possess smooth surface?”

  Iseo closed her eyes recalling the stones in Madia’s possession. “All were smoothly polished, but one. It bore writing.” She opened her eyes. “I am not familiar with its symbols.”

  “It is as the Archangel spoke. He fears the midwife has a Soul Casting stone.”

  “Soul-casting stone? What are you talking about?” Celestino explained the entire truth to her about the inscriptions and their imbued powers and incantations.

  “Holy Mother Mary! You speak of dark magic!” Iseo’s head spun with the revelation. The floor beneath her feet tilted. Celestino caught her before she fell. “Celestino, I stood by watching her send innocent souls to Hell. May God forgive me.”

  “You have nothing to be ashamed of, my Iseo. You did not know.”

  “What do we do now?” she asked.

  “We must retrieve the stones and destroy them. We begin with Madia,” he answered.

  “Sí, sí, we must.” Celestino helped Iseo to her feet. “I am assuming we leave now, since you have come to me at this late hour.”

  “We wake Father Avriel. The three of us depart as quickly as possible.”

  *

  The hooded trio raced on horseback the entire way to the midwife’s house. When they arrived, the horses steamed with exhaustion. Celestino leapt from his horse to assist Iseo to the ground. Father Avriel noted the tender way he placed his hands around her waist to ease the dismount and the slight linger of their hands together.

  Iseo knocked on the door, but all was silent. No light from within lit the windows. Iseo knocked louder. “Madia! Madia! It is Iseo, open the door! It is urgent!” she hollered loud enough a light was lit in a cottage down the lane.

  “She does not appear to be home,” Father Avriel stated the obvious.

  “What should we do?” Iseo asked.

  “I say we enter and look for the Soul Casting stone,” said Celestino.

  “What if someone sees us?” Iseo gasped. It mortified her to think of intruding on Madia’s privacy.

  “Do you place a higher position on reputation over souls?” Father Avriel asked her.

  “That is not even a question worthy of answer,” she snapped at the priest. She turned to Celestino. “How will we get in?”

  Celestino walked to the door. He laid his hand on the latch and Iseo heard a slight clank. The door creaked open. Iseo looked quizzically at Celestino. “How did you come by such a skill?” She looked from Celestino to the door.

  “Stand not amazed woman,” Father Avriel said as he practically shoved them both into the darkness of Madia’s kitchen.

  “I cannot see anything!” Iseo said as she bumped into a table. In the dark, she felt Celestino’s hands catch her from falling. Even a touch not meant to transfer affection made her heart pound in her chest. For a precious moment, she forgot where she was or why she was there.

  The hearth fire glowed with embers in need of stoking long ago, so it cast very little light into the heavy blackness. Celestino walked to th
e hearth and threw a small log from the basket onto the flame. He poked the charred logs and blew until a flame caught. Iseo knew where the rush lights were stored. She found the correct cabinet, pulled one from the clay canister, and lit it from the fireplace. She then went around the room lighting candles, so they could see.

  “Where does the midwife keep her supplies?” Father Avriel asked.

  “Here. Here in this chest. And there in that basket.” Iseo pointed across from her.

  “You look in the chest. I will look in the basket. Celestino, you watch the door,” Father Avriel directed each of them to a task.

  Iseo dug through the chest like a meticulous thief, laying each item down on the floor in neat piles. She found a velvet bag of stones. “Maybe it is here!” she exclaimed.

  Father Avriel commanded, “Give that to me.” He dumped the stones out on the table. All the sard and jasper looked identical to Iseo’s untrained eye. But, Father Avriel’s deliberate and systematic examination of each stone revealed that he knew exactly what he was looking for. “It is not here. These are just polished stones, of little harm, unless used as a superstitious shield.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Superstitions prevent God’s acceptance of the rite of baptism. They should not be used. However, those touched by superstitious rites may be re-baptized and saved from Hell’s fire. Consider the Soul Casting stone as a permanent condemnation. Those who have been touched by its power are the walking dead. Their souls may never reach heaven.”

  “There is someone approaching,” Celestino whispered loudly from the door.

  “Bueno. Perhaps they will know where to find Madia. We must know for certain whether she has a tear of Lucifer’s, or not.”

  “Holy Mother of God,” Iseo breathed.

  A man of unremarkable dress stopped just short of the doorway, when he saw Celestino. “What are you doing in the midwife’s cottage? Are you needing her service?”

  “Sí.” Father Avriel stepped forward. “Sí, we are in need of her assistance.”

  “Two priests? Must be important,” the man said.

  “Do you know where we can find her?” Iseo appeared from behind the men.

  “Oh! It is you, Iseo! I did not see you there,” he said with a smile. “Luisa and the babe are doing well. Thanks in part to you.”

 

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