by Mark G Heath
“ Good morning, good morning Brother Knights, have we felt the need for additional prayer on this crisp morning?” declared the priest holding out his hands.
“ Our prayers were said the moment we rose, as usual,” said Sir Joshua.
“ Of course, forgive my jest, please, come in.”
The knights crossed into the church, which was lit by many white candles, tall and thick, placed on numerous candlesticks. Ahead of them, in the aisle, two women were knelt, a bucket each beside them, brushes in hand, scrubbing away at the floor. The knights could see a dark red stain was the subject of their cleaning. They halted and looked at Campion.
“ What’s that?” asked Sir Simon.
“ I fear the mark left by poor Kendra Leventhorp when she so tragically felt the need to end her young life,” responded Campion placing his hands together as if in prayer.
“ Such a tragedy and to do so here. If only I had been to hand, I might have stopped such an awful act,” he continued looking down at the bloodied mark on the floor.
“ Yes, terrible,” added Sir Simon, “ another of our young no doubt preyed upon by the darkness that lurks in the forest beyond and upset the balance of her mind.”
“ You speak the truth Sir Simon,” said Campion, “ we must keep our faith in the One True God as watchword to our hearts.”
“ May it please him,” commented Sir Joshua.
“ Er, you will be able to remove this stain won’t you?” asked Sir Simon.
“ Yes, of course. Ladies, it presents no problem?” asked the priest. The women, heads still bowed, nodded hurriedly and continued with their scrubbing.
“ Marvellous,” declared Campion.
“ We passed Gregory on our way here,” noted Sir Simon. “ He had with him the body of Isabel Coffyn on his cart.”
“ Ah, that poor poisoned soul,” said Campion.
“ Quite. Which causes me to ask whether you have received any further reports from the village about the insidious activities of the Fallen One?” said Sir Simon. Campion looked nervously at the cleaning women at their feet.
“ Come now Brothers, let us go through to my study and you can impart to me the news that has brought you to our church this morning. Excuse us ladies please,” said Campion. The cleaning ladies halted their work and knelt up affording passage to the three men, who each took care not to place a boot upon the blood stain as they continued through the church to Campion’s study.
Campion sat behind his desk, opposite the two knights. He moved several rolls of parchment to one side, enabling him to place his arms on the desk in front of him. The study was small and warmed well by the fire to Campion’s left. The two knights perched on wooden seats, which were a little unsuited to the well-built frames of the brothers.
“ Would you like something to drink?” offered the priest, gesticulating to a jug of wine on the desk.
“ No thank you,” said Sir Joshua.
“ Well, if you have no thirst, what brings you to church?”
“Before we answer that, perhaps you could answer my last query,” interjected Sir Simon.
“ Which was?”
“ Whether you have received further instances of unholy behaviour. The existence of this will have a bearing on our news,” explained Sir Simon.
“ It is with great gladness I can impart that all is quiet within the village. Our vigilance does indeed pay dividends. The rooting out of Coffyn has spread throughout the entire village and our villagers are as wary as they could ever be of the influence of the Fallen One.”
“ That brings me considerable comfort,” admitted Sir Simon.
“ Yes, I must confess that when the rope snapped, during Coffyn’s cleansing, I feared that the Fallen One was trying to recover one of his acolytes,” said Sir Joshua.
“ Well Sir Joshua, you would not be mistaken in thinking that he would try to do such a thing, however, I did speak to Oliver Strivelyn about the matter.”
“ The sexton?” clarified Sir Joshua.
“ Yes, the sexton. It transpires that the rope used to lower Coffyn was an old piece of rope, worn and lacking in strength. It simply frayed and gave way under the weight of the girl as she was lowered to the Centopani.”
“ I see. What about her being brought to the riverside?” questioned Sir Joshua.
“ What of it?”
“ Well, those that are usually committed to the river’s waters are carried away forever by the river, permanently held by the cleansing flow so they cannot be taken by darkness. Could it not be the case that agents of the Fallen One steered Coffyn to the riverside in a bid to spirit her away?” said Sir Joshua.
“ Ah, I see your point and another valid one, if I may say so. Thankfully, I can assist with your legitimate concern. I questioned Hugh Maunsell closely on the occasion of his finding the body of Coffyn and he explained that he was outside the mill, partaking in a smoke of his pipe, as is his wont after a good meal, when he saw the enveloped corpse bob to the surface. He called on his good lady wife who was nearby and the pair of them watched the body of Coffyn float across to the riverside of its own accord. They saw no signs of foul activity. Indeed, Hugh was at pains to assure me that the thought of bane influences crossed his mind also and he was therefore most alert to anything that might suggest the work of the foul one. On this occasion, none was found,” said Campion.
“ Your detailed attention to the matter provides us with the reassurance we required, Father, and you have our thanks,” said Sir Simon.
“ It is why I am here,” replied Campion.
“ Now, unless anything else troubles you about the cleansing of Isabel Coffyn, may I ask what brings you to my church this day?”
“ We have received word,” began Sir Joshua.
“ We have received word that a delegation of pilgrims from the County of Elant will be arriving, possibly on the ‘morrow. They belong to a little known chapter of the High Church. They have come to spend time here, to reflect and to research. We understand they wish to have access to the Broken Keep for the purpose of their studies and moreover are willing to make a healthy donation to our treasury for the purpose of doing so,” continued Sir Simon.
Campion nodded.
“ Does Katarina know of their arrival?” asked Campion.
“ She does. She has explained that she has no issue with their peaceful intentions to study and to observe,” said Sir Joshua.
“ Good. Always wise to let her know about those interested in the Broken Keep, she can be rather, er, protective of it,” said Campion.
“ With good reason,” said Sir Simon.
“ They are led by a Syed Novac, do you know this name?” asked Sir Joshua.
“ It is not familiar to me,” replied Campion.
“ No matter,” said Sir Joshua, “ you must make preparations to receive our visitors.”
“ Naturally, it will be an honour. How many do they number?”
“ Twenty-two or thereabouts, so easily accommodated I should imagine.”
“ Yes, yes, that won’t present any difficulty.”
“ Good, since they are holy men they are your responsibility father, they cannot take lodgings with us.”
“No, I understand. I shall ensure they are made most welcome in our village. Did they state how long they intended to stay with us?”
“No, the missive was silent on that point,” conceded Sir Simon.
“ Our main concern is to ensure that good order is maintained in the village. The revelation surrounding Coffyn and the suicide of the Leventhorp girl are not events we want repeated and certainly not when we have pilgrims in our midst,” asserted Sir Joshua.
“ I entirely understand,” soothed Campion.
“ If untoward events take place when we have guests, they will depart armed with this knowledge. There must be no maledictions uttered by crones or witches that will bring bad fortune to this village. It makes us look poor and moreover, it invites interference from beyond the village�
�s boundaries and I know that is something we all wish to resist,” added Sir Simon.
“ I agree. I shall attend upon the villagers and reinforce your message to them,” assured Campion.
“ You have our gratitude. Good order must be maintained in Aftlain and moreover, it must be our order,” said Sir Joshua.
“ Now, what has become of the cartographer?” asked Sir Simon.
“ I understand that he remains lodged at the inn.”
“ He is behaving?” queried Sir Simon.
“ I have no reason to think to the contrary,” said Campion.
“ Who have you assigned to chaperone him?”
“Kathryn Dromgoole has taken that role.”
Sir Simon considered this information for a moment and then nodded.
“ Very good. Well, you are aware of our concerns, father.”
“ I am and you may have every confidence that the arrival of our pilgrim friends will pass smoothly. The continued and increased prosperity of the village is at the heart of all I do.”
“ Good. This village must remain well-ordered and productive so as to ensure the Duke's continued favour and of course the light touch he applies here,” added Sir Joshua.
“ Of course. Is there anything else I might be of assistance with?”
“ No, that is everything,” said Sir Simon.
“ Excellent. Well, as always, it is a privilege to receive you here and assist in the well-being of the village,” said Campion as he rose from his seat. He stepped around the desk and opened the door from his study, leading both the knights down a short corridor back to the main hall of the church. The trio emerged to find the women still engaged in the cleaning of the floor. Campion and the knights walked in silence to the door of the church.
“ Good day to you father, may the One True God keep you in his care,” said Sir Joshua as he stepped outside.
“ And he the same of you both, fare well,” replied Campion. He stood in the doorway watching the two knights as they strolled along the path.
“ Pilgrims? Little known chapter of the High Church?” he smiled to himself, “ I did not know that Novac had a sense of humour,” he muttered shaking his head and turned back into the church.
“ Ladies, please, take some rest or you will wear the floor of my church away,” boomed the priest as he walked towards the two women.
“ Let me fetch you some refreshment and you can tell me what keeps you awake at night.” The two women halted their work and got to their feet, stretching and smiling as the charismatic priest made his way towards them, arms outstretched.
Sir Joshua halted at the porch that covered the church gate. He looked across the churchyard to a far corner where a pall of smoke rose, grey and billowing up into the equally grey sky. The column of smoke climbed high above the church tower and drifted in the slight breeze to the south. A wall of orange flames rose from a pyre and the solitary figure of Talvace stood in front of the fire, leaning on his spade. The air around him shimmered in the heat generated by the blaze.
“ He’s a reliable sort,” remarked Sir Simon indicating towards the motionless gravedigger.
“ Yes he is. He appears to be a loyal instrument in carrying out the father’s wishes,” replied Sir Joshua.
“ Evidently keen to ensure any unholy behaviour is rooted out and extinguished.”
“ That is right. Well, come brother, we ought to head back. Traygar should have finished counting the taxes by now,” said Sir Joshua.
“ Yes, I look forward to hearing of the totals, the village’s prosperity has continued apace.”
“ All thanks to our learned stewardship.”
“ That,” said Sir Simon, “ goes without saying.”
The Brother Knights mounted their horses and headed down the slope away from the church, the smoke continuing to rise high into the morning sky behind them.
Chapter Eight
The costermonger, Ellen Ryall, hoisted the basket onto the crook of her arm and left her store in the hands of her daughter. She walked to the corner of the carpenter’s stall where Alyssia Thorne stood waiting, her short, bright red hair framing her pretty features.
“ Hello Alyssia,” said Ellen, brushing aside her long brown tresses as the breeze blew them across her face.
“ Good morning Ellen, how are you?”
“ Well thank you. How about you?”
“Oh, fair enough thank you. Have you got everything?”
“Yes, it is all here, they have been especially busy for me this time,” replied Ellen patting her basket.
“Good, come on then, let’s go and see him,” said Alyssia. The two women rounded the corner of the carpenter’s home and walked alongside the swaying trees towards Grimoult’s house.
“ I think he should be up by now,” commented Alyssia as they neared the door. She raised her hand and banged the base of her palm against the wood. A moment passed and the door opened, the alchemist stood in his ill-fitting robes hands clasped together.
“ Ah, good morning, ladies, please come in,” he invited. Alyssia and Ellen walked inside the house. Ellen wrinkled her nose at the strong smell that hung in the air.
“ What have you been doing Ilberd?” she remarked, “ It smells like death.”
The alchemist ignored her comment, his eyes focussed on the baskets that the women bore.
“ Over there if you wouldn’t mind,” said Grimoult directing them towards one of the workbenches. The women did as they were instructed, placing their baskets on the wooden top as Grimoult shuffled over to them. Alyssia looked over to the rack of glass jars against the far wall and she saw that four were empty. The remaining eight contained the tiny men, who sat or lay curled up inside their glass quarters.
“ Where are they?” she asked inclining her head towards the jars absent of their usual occupants.
“Down the well,” replied Grimoult.
“How are they faring?”
“ They are making decent progress actually. That is something that is going as planned. I should be able to commit more of my helpers to the task as well, which will keep matters in line with expectations.”
“ When do you think they will finish?” asked Alyssia.
“ A matter of days I should think, unless they encounter something unexpected, but my research has not revealed anything that would cause me concern.”
“ Most encouraging.”
“ Well, they have been about the task for five winters, so I daresay if they could speak they would tell me they will be glad to finish,” admitted Grimoult.
The alchemist prodded the basket nearest to him.
“ Now, I need to check on your wares, if I may.”
“By all means,” answered Alyssia.
“ Marvellous, so, what have you got for me?” he asked rubbing his wrinkled hands together in anticipation. Ellen reached into her basket and took out two purple shapes, a little like a squashed cube with indentations on the sides. She placed them down and produced a further two of the shapes.
“ Four Mulveer Peppers,” she announced. Grimoult nodded.
“ They will need to be cut and dried before I can use them, they look rather succulent,” remarked the alchemist.
“ Yes they are, freshly gathered from deep within the forest.”
“ Three clumps of Amaranth,” she continued putting down a bundle of reddish coloured leaves.
“Not pigweed?” queried Grimoult. He pushed a finger into the leaves, flicking them to one side.
“No, not pigweed.”
“Good, good,” muttered the alchemist.
“Two Durien,” she added and placed two large yellow and black, teardrop shaped objects that were covered in thorns besides the other items.
“ Finally, two Majere Fruits.” The costermonger lifted out two fist-sized blue spheres, with white leaves sprouting from the top of each fruit.
“ Excellent, thank you very much Ellen.” The alchemist leant forward and picked up one of the Majere Fruits
holding it to his nose and sniffing deeply.
“ Mmmm, it smells of warm custard,” he remarked.
“ That’s true, but not for putting on your apple crumble Ilberd, far too precious for such a basic use,” she warned.
“ Oh I know, you’ve done well to create two such fine specimens.”
“ Yes, took a few attempts if I am honest and they do seem to attract the attention of animals as well.”
“How much do I owe you?” asked Grimoult reaching inside his robes for his purse.
“ Fifteen marks,” replied Ellen.
“ That much?”
“That much,” said Ellen in a tone, which made it evident that there was no scope for bargaining.
“Very well, thank you for your help.” Grimoult counted out the coins into Ellen’s slender, cupped hands and she nodded when he reached the correct number.
Alyssia meanwhile had been emptying the contents of her basket and placed an array of items alongside those brought by Ellen.
“So what has Mistress Thorne brought to me this day?” enquired Grimoult.
“ Essence of Parnan,” replied Alyssia lifting up a small bottle, which contained a bright yellow liquid inside. She replaced the bottle on the bench and moved her hands to a pot. Lifting the lid, she showed the contents to Grimoult.
“ Ground Tappadaya. I added extra since you moaned last time that there was not sufficient.”
“ Duly noted.”
“ Next, four sprigs of Galterhorn,” her hand touched a purple-coloured plant, which had white specks on the leaves.
“This is Old Man’s Folly,” she explained picking up a bundle of long blue-green shards.
“ Rather apt,” said Ellen.
“Yes, I thought so too,” agreed Alyssia.
“ And here is a jar of Flaming Tongues.” She picked up the container; the red, yellow and orange streaked bell-shaped flower heads tumbling over one another as she shook the jar. Grimoult looked over the collection of unusual items as if searching for something else.
“ Where are the Lucerne Berries?” he asked. Alyssia shook her head.