The Righteous Whisper of Allsaints (The White Blood Chronicles Book 2)

by Mark G Heath

  “ Michael, Michael, it is Gabriel,” whispered Vindicta. He reached out his hand and gently shook Sanctus’ shoulder. The captive man gave a low moan by way of response.

  “Michael, open your eyes, it is Gabriel,” hissed Vindicta. Sanctus’ eyes fluttered and his eyes focussed on the concerned face of Vindicta looking down at him.

  “ Gabriel?” muttered Sanctus, “ Why are you here?”

  “ To save you from this abomination, my friend,” replied Vindicta looking with horror at the apparatus, which was slowly leeching the life from Sanctus.

  “ Too late for me, too tired,” croaked Sanctus.

  “ Nonsense, I know where we can get help, I will get you out of here. Let me help you.”

  “ Go, the witch will be back, you need to arrest her, forget about me,” said Sanctus softly.

  “ Not a chance. By the Allsaints, I will seek vengeance for what these monsters have done to you, my brother, I shall strike them down with righteous might,” he whispered, leaning low over Sanctus.

  “No Gabriel, I am done for, leave me be, you must flee this cursed village at once. I have waded through its dark underbelly and learned of the true horror that lurks in Aftlain. You must return to our order and bring all the help you can.”

  “Why, what have you found?” asked Vindicta.

  Sanctus closed his eyes and then opened up them as his voice croaked.

  “The Tainted walk in this village,” he whispered.

  “The Tainted are here? But, that must mean the foul lord is,” began Vindicta.

  “Yes,” rasped Sanctus, “his bane influence has risen and he has corrupted the villagers. I do not know where he is, but for the Tainted to be here, he will be close at hand.”

  “But I thought he had been banished, with the other Alesti? That is what the Lessons of Captivity tell us.”

  Sanctus nodded.

  “I know, but I have seen his servants, dark spirits which come and go, conveying the foul lord’s commands to these villagers and spreading his polluting effect. His darkness is growing and we must stop this before he is unleashed. Go now my brother, you have no time to waste, flee this place, flee,” urged Sanctus in his hoarse whisper.

  Vindicta turned his head as the sound of footsteps on the floor above were audible.

  “ Close your eyes, be still, I will free you,” urged Vindicta as he heard voices floating down the steps. He backed away from the frame where Sanctus lay and darted behind some crates stacked underneath the stairs. Crouching, he peered between two columns of crates; able to see the frame as the stairs above his head creaked under the weight of the people descending into the basement.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Alyssia and Campion entered the rear of the apothecary.

  “ So, what news have you?” asked Alyssia.

  “ As I predicted, the Brother Knights accepted my report without question.”

  “ The report being?”

  “ That Thaindire is a demon in a man’s body and that he must be arrested and tried forthwith,” replied Campion.

  “ Such irony,” said Alyssia as they walked across the room.

  “ Yes, I thought you would like that touch. I left them to dress in their armour. They will be riding down into the village very shortly. I am to meet with them here and then head to the tavern to lay the charges against Thaindire and they will arrest him. If Kathryn or Thaindire shows any resistance, the Brother Knights will readily subdue them. Once Thaindire is taken he will be placed in a cell in the keep where we can take the white blood from him.”

  “ Excellent.”

  “ With that in mind, I thought I would let you know and also check on how much white blood we have here,” explained Campion.

  “ I see. Well, I was just about to apply a couple of infused patches to the witch hunter to bolster his health and improve our prospects of further extraction,” answered Alyssia pointing to the two red discs on the platter.

  “ I time my visit well, let’s go and see our precious prey and check the white blood.”

  Alyssia nodded and scooped up the platter before leading Campion down the stairs into the basement. She reached the bottom and looked across at Sanctus who laid unmoving, eyes closed.

  “ He’s not dead is he?” asked Campion alarmed.

  “ No, look, his chest is moving.”

  Campion stared and could just make out the slight rise and fall of the pale-skinned chest.

  “ Oh yes, I can see.”

  Campion moved alongside Sanctus and looked down at the collecting bottle.

  “ Nearly half a bottle, that’s good,” he remarked. “ Since we will be getting plenty from Thaindire, I may as well take this and pass it to Novac.”

  “ Wait a moment Thomas, I need that half a bottle to produce the Lucerne Berries for Ilberd’s elixir. I was planning on beginning the growing today. If you take that, I shall have to wait longer for the white blood and consequently, the berries will take longer.”

  “ Come now Alyssia, you shall have plenty of whiteblood in a matter of hours. That will not make much difference to the time it takes to grow those fruits, surely?”

  “ It will and it will make all the difference to Ilberd. He is terrified that Novac will come after him again. Keep in mind as well, that he has not got the grimoire, so he might still not get the elixir right. The white blood from Thaindire will grow further berries and provide us with comfort, less the first batch are wasted.”

  “ I know you want to help Ilberd out, but his eminence needs this white blood and forthwith. Ilberd isn’t the only one threatened by Novac you know,” said Campion.

  “ Thomas, you brought that on yourself by not being ready,” chided Alyssia. Campion sneered.

  “ It is alright for you down here in the village, I have got the maniac in my church. You know he cursed Ringthane earlier, aging him and he has two of his lackeys camped at Ringthane’s house forcing him to hurry the invoking of the emeralds. They are priming him with replenishment draughts and making him invoke far faster than he ought to. It will kill him.”

  “ We knew Novac was not to be disappointed, but I have to help Ilberd.”

  “ Forget him, he can get the berries a little later, he will get the elixir right this time,” said Campion.

  “ No Thomas, the white blood stays here. If you want some for Novac, take it from Thaindire.”

  “ I am taking it now,” said Campion. He reached down for the bottle perched on the frame.

  “ No!” shouted Alyssia. She thrust her hand out and a spray of thorns sprang from her outstretched fingers. They slammed into Campion’s hand. The priest cried out in pain and recoiled from grabbing the bottle.

  “ Why you little bitch,” seethed Campion. He turned from the frame and stood up. Alyssia shot her hand forward once again and another volley of thorns streamed through the air, this time sinking into Campion’s face. He howled and raised a hand to his bloodied cheek, his face twisted in a grimace.

  “ Get out Thomas, before I really hurt you,” warned Alyssia. Campion lowered his hand, the half dozen thorns still stuck in his cheek, blood trickling from the wounds.

  “ You already have hurt me,” said Campion. He began to advance towards Alyssia. She swung an arm and a green tendril lashed out from her wrist, whipping Campion in the face. She retracted the tendril and let it fly at him again as he raised an arm to defend himself against the stinging attack.

  Campion let a guttural growl issue from his throat as his wings burst through his cassock, splitting the material, the black leathery attachments promptly unfolding and flexing, making him appear larger. His tail flicked at the bottom of his gown and he held up his hands, which now sported talons, flexing his fingers in warning to Alyssia. The apothecary backed away from the encroaching demon-priest and he grinned, his reptilian tongue sliding over his teeth.

  “ Stay over there,” he warned, “ or you will be hurt.”

  He turned back towards the frame, intent on snatching the
white blood. There was a cracking noise and a tendril appeared around his neck, coiling about it. Campion’s eyes widened in concern as the tendril tightened. He clawed at it with a taloned hand but the action was ineffective. He sank to his knees as the grip became more secure. The priest cried in pain as another volley of thorns slammed into his back and then another. With a roar, he reached behind his head and with both hands grabbed the tendril. He yanked on it hard and as he did so, he bent forward. Alyssia was dragged off her feet and pulled along. Unbalanced, she crashed into Campion and toppled over him, landing on the ground in front of the priest. She winced on hitting the ground and rolled over, the tendril from her wrist still wrapped around Campion’s neck. The priest moved to his knees as Alyssia tried to scramble to her feet and deliver another volley. Campion staggered up and as Alyssia did the same, the priest placed his hands together and swung hard at Alyssia’s head. Her head snapped back and cracked into a pillar. She slumped to the ground and lay crumpled, the tendril unfurling from Campion’s neck and slithering to the ground. Campion put a hand out on a pillar to steady himself, blood spilling down his face as he gasped, breathing deeply. He looked at Alyssia who was motionless but alive.

  “ Sorry about that Alyssia, but if you are going to get in the way, you are going to get hurt,” he wheezed. He looked at the still body of Sanctus.

  “ You weren’t much help there were you?” snorted Campion. He moved closer to the witch hunter.

  “ Thanks for the blood, I’ve enough to keep Novac happy now, so you won’t be needed anymore. You will be pleased that this misery is about to end,” hissed Campion as he raised one of his talons.

  “ I don’t think so, demon,” said a voice behind him.

  Campion whirled around as Vindicta stepped out from his hiding place, sword drawn, and its pommel shining brightly.

  “ Where in Selne did you come from?”

  “ That is no concern of yours, foul one, it is time for your judgement. By the Order of Allsaints I decree death,” said Vindicta raising his sword in readiness.

  “ I thought Reznik let you get away, has she been hiding you here as well?” asked Campion genuinely confused. Vindicta remained silent.

  “ I care little, for this means more white blood, lots more white blood,” grinned Campion.

  The priest lashed out at Vindicta, a taloned hand sweeping down at him. Vindicta stepped to one side, avoiding the arc of the attack. He swung his long sword towards Campion but the demon blocked the blow, his arm batting the sword away. The sleeve of his cassock ripped from the blade connecting with his arm and through the gash, Vindicta could see dark scales where skin ought to have been. Vindicta took a step backwards, moving around the top of the frame as Campion pressed forward. Twice he raked at Vindicta and each time the witch hunter dodged backwards, evading the assault. Vindicta cut at the priest, but a well-placed arm again deflected the blow, the priest’s scaled forearms seemingly immune to the metal striking them. Campion launched another attack, this time the heavy talons landed on Vindicta’s chest as he sought to evade them. The chain mail held firm preventing any injury, but the force of the blow knocked Vindicta off balance. Campion followed up the strike with a roundhouse blow with his right arm. Vindicta managed to duck under the wild action and thrust his sword at the priest. Campion snarled as the blade nicked his side, tearing his clothing and causing a little blood to spray from the wound. Emboldened, Vindicta barged his shoulder into Campion, knocking him back. The witch hunter lunged his weapon at Campion, who back-pedalling, clattered the thrusting blade away with his left talon. Vindicta had the momentum and made another thrust, seeking to drive his sword into Campion’s stomach. Again, a talon batted the driving sword away.

  Vindicta feinted right and then brought his sword around, chopping at Campion’s left leg. The blade slammed into his thigh causing the priest to howl. Vindicta wrenched the sword out of Campion’s thigh and a jet of blood spattered to the ground. Snarling, Campion sought to recover his position and scuttled backwards, blood dripping down his leg, moving around the top of the wooden frame, trying to gain some time. The two opponents faced one another, neither attacking, instead looking for an opening in the other’s defence. It was Campion that struck first, a frenzied flurry of talon strikes, one of which broke through Vindicta’s defence and hit him on the left shoulder. Again, Vindicta’s armour held, but the weight of the blow was such that it caused him considerable pain. With a yell, he buckled under the blow. Before he was able to react, Campion’s left hand smashed him in the chest, sending him backwards to the ground. The demon growled and leapt at Vindicta, looking to pin the witch hunter down and tear him apart with his talons. Vindicta realised that a swing of his sword would not slow the demon and instead he scrambled aside as Campion landed beside him on all fours.

  The priest lashed out, the back of his left talon cracking Vindicta across the face as he tried to get away from the demon. His head snapped back and he rolled to his right, landing on his stomach. Face stinging, Vindicta looked up from the ground, as Campion moved towards him, advancing on all fours, like the true beast that he was. Vindicta pushed his hands against the ground and staggered up, righting himself once again. The priest sprang at him, launching himself like a cat springing across the rooftops. Again, Vindicta side stepped the assault and turned bringing his sword into the side of the priest, creating a further wound. The injury had the demon crash to the floor and roll over onto his back. Vindicta pressed his advantage and towering over the supine Campion, he hacked downwards at the priest, his sword chopping into his stomach. Squirming backwards, Campion flailed with his talons, trying to knock aside the blows, which Vindicta now rained down on him. The priest left a trail of blood smeared on the floor as he retreated and Vindicta opened up a further wound in the torso of Campion. The witch hunter maintained his attack and the hacking blade scored another hit, gashing the chest of the priest.

  “ Mercy, I seek mercy,” begged Campion, now the worse for wear after Vindicta’s sustained assault. Vindicta halted the onslaught, his sword raised above his head, Campion held up his forearms in a defensive posture.

  “ You seek mercy?” asked the witch hunter.

  “ Yes, I seek mercy of you valiant white blood, victory is yours. Let me retreat and you shall have no further trouble from me, I give you my word.”

  Vindicta stood there, his shoulders rising and falling as he breathed heavily. He looked down at Campion who was bleeding from several wounds, two of the wounds on his chest being particularly savage.

  “ Please, I beg you,” urged Campion again.

  “ Kill the demon.”

  Vindicta glanced in the direction of the voice. He saw Sanctus, head raised and eyes open.

  “ Finish him,” he instructed.

  With a bellow of rage, Vindicta resumed his attack and his first blow severed Campion’s left arm, the blade cutting through the scales and lopping off the limb. The demon-priest screamed in pain, writhing on the floor as Vindicta brought his blade down again and smashed it into the creature’s chest, blood spattering from the impact. Campion’s legs slowed as they kicked ineffectually at the ground and Vindicta altered his grip on his sword. He stood over the demon and thrust his sword down hard into the chest of the beast. Blood sprayed from the entry of the wound and then burst from Campion’s open mouth, his cry of agony becoming a bloody gurgle. With a grunt, Vindicta twisted the embedded blade and thrust it deeper. Campion’s arms flopped to his sides and the reptilian tongue darted once from his mouth, before flailing and toppling to the left. His eyes rolled and he made no sound. Panting, Vindicta wrenched his sword from the chest of Campion and moved around to the side of the fallen demon.

  “ By the One True God I consign you to oblivion,” he said and brought his sword down, severing Campion’s head from his neck, in one swift strike. The head rolled onto its side, the thorns still embedded in the cheek. Grimacing at the pain that took his shoulder, Vindicta slid his sword into its scabbard and moved
over to Sanctus.

  “ Good man, I never doubted you would slay that beast,” said Sanctus in his rasping voice.

  “ Come Michael, let us away,” said Vindicta. He began to remove the pins, which held the metal clasps in place, pulling them away and throwing them to the floor. He lifted the manacles off Sanctus’ limbs before carefully removing the metal that had been sunk into his brother witch hunter’s arm.

  “ I cannot walk,” said Sanctus, “ I am too weak.”

  “ Then I shall carry you my brother.”

  Vindicta placed his hands underneath Sanctus and lifted, appalled at how slight he had become following his ordeal in the basement. Sanctus gave a low moan.

  “ Are you alright Michael?”

  Sanctus nodded closing his eyes.

  “ Have faith Michael, it is not far to where I can get you help, do not slip away now.”

  Sanctus opened his eyes and looked up into the face of his saviour.

  “ Thank you Gabriel,” he whispered softly. Vindicta turned away from the frame and carrying his weakened brother witch hunter, made his way to the stairs and began to climb them. He looked over at the slumped body of Thorne and briefly considered putting her to the sword. A moan from Sanctus persuaded him to attend to his brother witch hunter. He would return later for Thorne and see her burn.

  “ I will be back for you,” he said as he continued up the stairs and into Thorne’s living room. Reaching the top of the stairs, he paused considering which way to go and then headed for the rear door, which he had breached earlier.

  “ Michael, I am going to have to place you over my shoulder, are you ready?”

  “ Yes,” answered Sanctus softly.

  Vindicta gently moved Sanctus onto his shoulder and then continued towards the door. He pulled it open and stepped onto the rear porch. The garden stretched out before him and then the forest beyond, the mass of trees as impenetrable as ever. Looking around, Vindicta saw a chair on the porch. He grabbed it and swung it around to place it besides the rail at the far end of the porch. Vindicta stepped onto it, Sanctus over his left shoulder and reached for the pillar supporting the porch roof with his right hand. Suitably balanced he stepped from the chair onto the balcony, one leg on the balustrade, the other on the chair. With a grunt, he brought his other leg onto the rail and waited a moment finding his balance. The witch hunter then stretched across to the fence and planted a boot atop it, his hand still against the pillar for support. He moved his trailing leg onto the fence, the top of the fence underneath the soles of his boots, before he jumped and landed in the lane beyond. He pitched forward, almost dropping Sanctus and sprawling to the ground. Sanctus gave another groan of discomfort.