by Kris Kramer
"Ewen, please! It's me! It's Daniel! You have to remember who I am.” I looked over to see the door to my room shut. But that wouldn’t stop anyone from hearing if I screamed. “I only wanted to help you."
"I don't need your help. I don't need you. I have him! I hear his voice!" Ewen leaned close, his dank breath washing over my face. "It's madness,” he whispered, “and it is glorious."
"Ewen, don't do this,” I begged. Why wasn’t I screaming for help yet? “You're not a murderer. You're a good man. Please."
"Shut up!” I felt the knife push deeper against my neck. "He's already saved me. He loves me. If I bring him blood, especially the blood of a priest, he will love me even more."
"You don't want to kill me, Ewen. I'm not a priest. I’m just a man."
His eyes became dark again and he stared at me with a curious intensity. “You can't fool me, Father. You can't hide what you are from me."
"Ewen,” I groaned. He pushed down on me, crushing my chest. “Remember who you are. Remember the people here who care about you. Eadwyn. Oslac. Agnes. The children. You said you had nephews, right? Remember your family."
Ewen stopped. His eyes darted about, as if searching for a memory. He looked at me, but the malevolence was gone. I felt the weight of his body lessen, but he was still too big and heavy to move.
“What… what are you…” he stammered.
“Please remember them. Remember who you are.”
His eyes cleared, and his brow furrowed. He looked at me, and this time, he really saw me. He leaned back, saw the blade in his hand, and he threw it against the wall, his mouth open in horror. He fell back then, scooting away as fast as he could until he backed into the door.
"Father!" His hands went to his head, and he grabbed at his hair, pulling. "I'm sorry, Father! I'm so sorry!”
I leaped to my feet and forced myself into the corner behind my bed, the farthest possible spot I could get from him.
“I couldn't help it. I was taken. He made me do that to you. It was the demon,” Ewen mumbled, too ashamed to look directly at me. “I promise you, it was him. Not me.”
I panted, feeling my tenuous life slowly return. “I believe you.”
“I promise…”
“I know,” I said. Even though that was true, the words felt hollow.
Suddenly, Ewen stood up, causing my entire body to tense in alarm. Instead of coming after me, though, he opened the door and ran out. A moment later, the only sounds in my room were the distant creaking from the back door to the annex as it opened and closed, and my fast, heavy breaths. And still I wondered why I never screamed for help.
*****
Temptation and hubris. That’s why I stayed silent.
The temptation came from my realization about what I’d seen in Ewen’s eyes – within that darkness, that shadow, was the doorway to another realm, and even if it led straight to hell, I still felt the need to touch it, to explore, to know what lay on the other side. Despite the danger, I couldn’t resist the conceit associated with knowing what no one else could know, or should know.
The hubris was even more powerful, though. Despite the threat to my life, I was more concerned with learning why I might die instead of trying to actually prevent it. My pleas had been answered, and God had showed me that my part in this ordeal wasn’t finished. That’s why I found myself standing outside the annex in the dark, watching the stables as Ewen rummaged around inside. Because I didn’t fear him as I should. God would protect me. God was showing me the way.
Ewen walked out of the stables, his head low and a bag flung over his shoulder, probably on his way to one of his hiding spots. He took only a few steps before stopping and looking over his shoulder at me.
“Go away, Father. It’s not safe.”
“Ewen,” I said, taking a few steps toward him, “tell me what’s happening. Please.”
“You don’t understand. I can’t be around you right now. Any of you.” He waved his hand toward the church behind me. “But especially not you.”
“Me? Why?”
Ewen swallowed uncomfortably. “He talks about you. He told me to… hurt you.”
“Are you sure it’s me he wants?” I asked, thinking back to my nightmare with Caenwyld and his empty eye sockets. “Maybe you misheard him?”
“He wants you dead, Father. You.” Ewen looked away, ashamed. “You have to let me leave. Before something terrible happens.”
My faith, resolute only a moment ago, faltered.
“Why me, Ewen? Why does the demon want me dead?”
“Because you can help me.”
“I can help you? How?”
“I don’t…” Ewen stared at the ground, as if searching for a thought that continued to elude him.
“Is it… is it Arkael? Is that what you mean? Am I supposed to take you to him?”
Ewen shrugged, helplessly. “No. Something else. Something you can do.”
“Me? No one else?” Ewen nodded. “Ewen, I want to help. I really do. But I don’t know what you’re talking about. Tell me what it says to you, and then maybe we can figure this out together. If you won’t tell me, and if you run away, then what good am I?”
Ewen’s shoulders sagged and he looked away, shaking his head. I could see the glint of tears on his cheek.
“I want to be free of this,” he whispered. “I can’t live with this monster tearing away at my soul every day.
“I know, Ewen.” I moved closer. “We should go to the church. Prayer can be healing. Maybe some time spent in prayer will reveal something…”
"No!” Ewen cut me off, the force of his voice surprising me. But it wasn’t from anger, it was revelation. “Healing! That’s why he hates you. You can heal! You can purge the demon from my soul. Father,” he pleaded, “I know you can do it. You can get him out of my head."
"Ewen,” I said, “I can't. I don’t even know what you’re asking of me."
"You have to try!” Ewen moved closer, and I fought the urge to back away. “I can’t fight him any longer. He tempts me every day. But you can stop it. You can heal me. You have to try!”
“Try what?” I threw my hands out, vexed. “I’m not practiced in what you ask. I’m not even a priest.”
“Just do something. Anything! I need him out of my head!"
It came to me then. Exorcism. That was the answer to demonic possession. Through the authority of Christ, a priest could cast a demon out of a man’s soul. But I’d already made it clear to him I was no priest, and I certainly didn’t know how to exorcise a demon. But maybe that didn’t matter. All I needed to do was calm Ewen down long enough to figure out a real solution. I’d spent plenty of time acting the part of a priest. Why not do the same thing here, just to make Ewen believe whatever it was he needed to believe? But not an exorcism. I had something simpler in mind.
“Maybe… maybe I can absolve you of your sins.”
“Will that work?”
“I don’t know. I’m not even sure if it’s appropriate-”
“Do it,” he cut me off and I could feel the desperation in his voice. “Please!”
“Okay,” I said, feeling hurried. Even if it was just for show, he needed something to grasp on to. I could at least do that for him. “Kneel down on the ground. In front of me, like you’re praying.”
Ewen kneeled, his face pale and drawn. I moved to stand directly in front of him, and then I made the sign of the cross between us.
“Dominus,” I began, trying to remember the exact words, “Dominus noster Jesus Christus te absolvat, et ego auctoritate ipsius te absolvo ab omni vinculo excommunicationis et interdicti in quantum possum et tu indiges. Deinde, ego te absolvo a peccatis tuis in nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen.”
Ewen closed his eyes and bowed his head, his hands squeezing his thighs. “Amen,” he whispered. I made the sign of the cross and then reached out to him, resting my hand on his forehead.
And that's when the darkness tore through my soul.
I watched a man bludgeon another man in the head over a few pennies. A lord’s son dragging a screaming woman off to the woods while her husband was away. A boy beating a lame dog with a branch until it stopped moving. A nobleman’s torturers cutting off a woman's feet, simply for their lord's amusement.
The inhuman savagery struck at my core, and I wanted to retch, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t pull away. I couldn’t even close my eyes because the visions were in my head. Then something else happened. I felt a tingle of excitement shudder through my body, a primal attraction to the horrific freedom of these acts. I wanted to scream at the terror, while bathing in the sacrilege.
It was too much. I tried to fight it. I tried to push back. The conflicting feelings overwhelmed me and whatever control I had slipped away, like trying to grasp water. Darkness crept in around the edges of my vision, and my limbs became weak.
Then all became black.
Chapter 13
I awoke to the clanging of church bells followed by Oslac shouting in the hallway, pounding on doors. My eyes finally opened when he reached mine, but it took a moment before I recognized the walls and ceiling of the room surrounding me. I was in my room, lying in my own bed, but that didn’t seem right. Had I fallen asleep here? I lifted my head, only to be greeted by sharp pains throughout my chest, back and neck. My head throbbed and I lay back down, grabbing it with both hands. My mouth was dry and my throat raw, making swallowing an uncomfortable exercise.
I turned my head just enough to see that my cup sat on the desk next to the bed, filled with water. I reached for it gingerly, and brought it to my mouth, gulping the water down. As I drank, vague memories of last night slowly returned, each one feeling distant and out of place. I remembered walking through the city, finding Ewen, discovering his revelation, seeing him in the stables, waking to find him trying to kill me, and then...
The cup slipped from my hand and bounced off the floor while I squirmed back against the wall next to my bed. My eyes darted about the room, but all I saw were those same terrible visions from last night. They weren’t as intense or as real, more like remnants than actual memories, but they still staggered me with their inhumanity, and I nearly heaved the water right back out of my stomach.
What had I seen?
No, what had I done?
I’d only meant to absolve his sins, but that’s not what happened. When I touched his head, I felt the soul of the devil himself enter my body. That’s how powerful and abhorrent that moment felt. But it paled in comparison to what came to me now, when I feared that he’d somehow infected me with his sickness. My skin crawled at the notion of the demon inside of me, corrupting my mind and body. I hopped out of bed pulling my clothes off as fast as I could, thinking they were unclean simply for having touched Ewen. I threw them in the corner of my room and then stood next to my desk, naked and shivering, but unwilling to go anywhere Ewen had been. Even the air itself felt dirty.
I didn’t feel sick, though, not any longer. My neck was still sore, but my headache had disappeared, and I certainly didn’t have any voices talking to me, at least not while awake. No, I was being rash and unreasonable. In fact, I could think of an obvious explanation for last night, one that almost made sense.
It wasn’t real.
I went to sleep in my bed, and awoke to find Ewen hovering over me. But I’d had terrible nightmares in the last week, nightmares that felt real, that seemed to speak to me. Could this be another one, one so tangible that I couldn’t even distinguish between it and the waking world anymore? That would explain everything, or at least enough to temper my worries about being tainted by a demon. And I could find this out easily enough. I could ask Ewen.
I put on my extra robe, still not entirely willing to touch my old one, and walked on unsteady legs to the back door of the annex. I pushed it open and stared across the courtyard at the stables. The building was quiet, and I saw no movement inside, unusual for this time of morning. Ewen should be up, tending to the animals, though he might still be asleep. I could walk over there and find out, but I wasn’t sure if I should be afraid of him. I didn’t even know what he’d done to me, or if he could do worse.
No. I pushed my fear away. I’d let Caenwyld scare me into submission, but no one would ever have such control over me again. I took a deep breath, summoned my remaining courage, walked to the stables and nudged the door open, only to be greeted by the anxious whinnies of the horses. Ewen wasn’t here. But he had to be somewhere. The truth wouldn’t escape me that easily. I would find him, and he would explain to me what he’d done.
“You have no idea where he could be?” I asked Agnes. She was alone in the kitchen preparing breakfast, which included eggs, milk, nuts and cheese, but I had no taste for food. I stood next to her, anxiously clenching the sides of my robe.
“Daniel,” she said, in a voice that suggested she was about to tell me something obvious, “like I already said, if he isn’t in the stables, or wandering about the church, then I don’t know. He has his spots he goes to sometimes,” she waved her hand about dismissively, “but I don’t follow him around all day and poke my nose in his business. I’m sure he’ll come back soon. He always does.” She glanced at me curiously. “Why are you so worried?”
“I’m not,” I said, trying to hide my restlessness. “I just happened to see him last night and he looked upset. He didn’t want to talk about it, so I let him be. I just want to make sure he’s fit to do God’s work. Idle hands and all.”
“Ha,” she exclaimed. “You tell that to Oslac. There is no man better at avoiding work from here to Jerusalem than that lazy old coot. You need him to lift something, his back hurts. Ask him to go out into town, his knees are creaky. If I asked him to sit, he’d tell me his backside was sore and then he’d run away fast as a hare.”
Agnes could be entertaining when ranting, but I had no patience for it now. I excused myself and wandered the church grounds, asking anyone who would listen if they’d seen Ewen. None had, and no one could offer any ideas about where he might be, although Oslac eagerly suggested that I could handle his chores in the stables until he came back. Luckily, Cerdic, the boy, told me about the time he’d once seen Ewen over by the north wall, near an old guard tower he would play at with the other boys. When they showed up that day, Ewen just shooed them off. I had no better ideas, so I left the church grounds and went to the north wall, but the guard tower was empty except for rats that scurried away at my approach. An idea came to me then, and I trudged across the field to the north gate, where two men stood guard and asked them if they'd seen Ewen leave Eoferwic. Neither had, luckily, but they told me to check the other gates. It wasn’t until I found Dagbert again, standing guard at the south gate, that I learned what happened.
“He’s off somewhere. Came by here before sunrise and went west, through those woods over there,” he motioned with his head. “He didn’t say where he was going, and he didn’t look to be in a mood for talking, so I let him be. But I’ve seen him do it before. Once, he was gone for three days before he came back.”
I grunted heavily enough that Dagbert patted my arm. "He'll be back, son. Where else has he got to go?"
I thanked him and returned to the church, though I remember little of the walk back. My mind was too busy contemplating whether or not I'd been overtaken by madness, either my own, or some bit of Ewen’s. I passed by Pepin and Deaga in the courtyard, chatting in Frankish, along with Aengus, frowning in concentration while trying to follow the conversation.
“Daniel?” Peppin asked as I walked by, seeing the solemn look on my face.
“Not now, Pepin.” I pulled open the annex door and walked through the kitchen, where Agnes barked at Cerdic, Brant and another boy, Edward,
all of whom waited eagerly for breakfast. The three of them stood next to the table, plates in hand, while Agnes reminded them to be patient. I skirted through the room before she could stop me and make me eat. I’d intended to go to my room, but once I passed the library, it seemed a better place to think. I sat at the farthest desk back, and held my head in my hands.
“Pere,” Pepin’s voice called out, and I looked up to see him standing at the doorway. “What is it?”
“It’s nothing,” I said. Pepin watched me, not believing a word, so I decided there was no harm in telling him. He was the only one I could talk to anyway. “Something happened last night," I said, keeping my voice low.
“What?” he asked, and I related the mystifying events of last night and this morning. He continued to frown, though, making me think he didn’t believe me, which only made me feel worse because I didn’t entirely believe myself.
"I think I’m losing my mind. I can’t tell anymore if I’m dreaming or if something terrible just happened to me. And now, when all I need to do is find Ewen, so he can explain what really happened last night, he disappears.”
Pepin sat at the desk next to me and gazed out the narrow window, lost in a thought.
“Do you remember Pere Corbus?” he said finally, and I nodded. Father Corbus was an old monk at the monastery in Poitiers who could scare off a wolf with his scowl. “You could never speak with him, because you didn’t understand our language, but he had stories to tell. He was very much like Humbert, only less pleasant to be around. He used to tell a story when I first arrived about a man he met in Constantinople, which he visited when he was young. This man, whose name I cannot remember, killed many people, and when he was caught, he was sentenced to death. But before he died, he asked to see a priest. Corbus knew some of the clergy there, so he was lucky enough to be part of the traveling party of the priest who went to see this man, to hear his confession before God.”
“When they came to the prison, the man was stripped naked, and chained to the floor, and he sat on his knees, but not in prayer. He spat at all of the priests, and then he laughed at them, and told them they preached lies and false hope. They prayed for him, but that just made him angrier and he screamed at them to stop. In between his outbursts, though, Corbus said this man became quiet, perhaps even sane, and he cried for what had happened to him. And that's when he told them the demon had his soul now, and nothing they could say or do would change that. He said that they would see the truth themselves someday. It might take a thousand lifetimes, but they would know."