Sometime in the late afternoon he entered a wealthy-looking house not far from the central square to find a file of royal troops pillaging the residence. Evidently they had not been there long, although the damage to furnishings was copious, for they had only just embarked upon the interrogation of the occupant. He was a huge man, soberly dressed, with an implausibly resolute jaw; perhaps fifty years of age but not old as yet. Even so he showed no signs of resistance save a lofty disdain. In a level voice he told the blue-coats the location of his money box and then that of the key.
Tobias was half-heartedly inspecting some of the surviving china figures which had decorated the room before the Crusaders’ acts of vandalism. There were none he particularly wanted and he replaced them neatly, then turned and looked coolly at the tall man held between two soldiers and towering a head above them. His gaze was returned sternly.
Tobias was looking somewhat more priest-like now for he had removed his buff coat and thus revealed his clerical gown (tucked into his breeks). And he noticed that the captive’s eyes flicked for the barest of instants to his armband.
Although the man had been both courteous and cooperative some of the soldiers had drawn knives to torment him further since they were a little drunk and had grown accustomed during the battle to the free exercise of their wilder natures.
Tobias said quietly, ‘No – halt!’ and the soldiers desisted. After their initial abashment they had ignored his presence but his relative position in authority was far from uncertain. They had been hoping he would drift on as noiselessly as he had come and so leave them to some uninhibited fun, but they knew their master’s voice even in this anarchy.
Tobias felt that there was something wrong with the vignette before him, in the sense that the principal actor was not playing the part one would expect. The householder did not have the appearance of someone given to easy capitulation; certainly he had faced the prospect of physical torture without undue fuss. As if to confirm Tobias’ thoughts, two soldiers suddenly reappeared carrying an open strongbox between them. It appeared to be full of banker’s notes and gold coinage.
There was no figure of rank present so Tobias made his question general. ‘How many of you are there?’
Everybody pretended to be engaged in counting, typically waiting for someone else to act as spokesman.
‘Come on, come on.’
‘Six, not counting him and you, Father,’ said a tubby, begrimed soldier with a Surrey accent.
‘That’s all, no more searching the house or whatever?’
‘No, Father.’
‘Hold him for a moment.’
Tobias closed his eyes and invoked his sensitivity spell, restricting it in his mind (and therefore in reality) to the physical confines of the house.
Each person present appeared and felt in some subtle way like a shimmering cone of light behind Tobias’ eyes. Others would have marvelled or speculated upon what this represented, but he had lost the faculty to find his own abilities interesting. Thus without any undue curiosity he counted the cones: nine; he recounted, nine. Tobias opened his eyes.
‘There is another person in this house, probably in a secret room of some sort. I am interested to see who it is.’ He turned to the householder. ‘I don’t suppose you’ll tell us will you?’
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’
‘I thought not. Very well – kill him and then search the house. I’ll wait here.’
Hearing his doom pronounced, the man began to struggle and rapidly threw off his two captors. It would have been both troublesome and dangerous to engage him in hand-to-hand struggle and so one of the soldiers shot him at point-blank range with his musket. The noise was surprisingly loud in the smallish room and the smoke hung for some while.
While one man made sure of the heretic with his knife, Tobias ordered the rest about their search. Some were plainly reluctant to leave him with the strongbox, but none had misgivings powerful enough to make them mention it.
Tobias decided to wait because he thought the episode had possibilities and since, for the moment, he felt a little fatigued. He noticed a cigarette box and filled his pocket with the contents. While he waited he sat in a deep armchair, chain-smoked and thought of nothing.
From all around him came the noises of frustrated soldiery and methodical destruction until after about a quarter of an hour his patience was rewarded by the resonant boom of a gunshot from upstairs. It was immediately followed by a loud grunt and the sound of something heavy striking the floor.
As he climbed the stairs he could hear a cacophony of voices but no further sounds of struggle and so he did not bother to draw his pistol. It was easy to locate the source of the disturbance, a large bedroom to the left of the stairhead. Entering, he saw a most eloquent cameo.
The first thing that caught his eye, naturally enough, was a woman. Less naturally, she was dressed in plain men’s clothing: white linen and a black suit, surmounted by a clerical collar. A mixed look of hatred and fear occupied her rather ordinary face. In fact, he mused, she was not in age and features unlike Diane of fond memory, although infinitely more determined and Amazonian. Two soldiers held her none too gently by the arms and hair. The reason for their strength of feeling was clear, for one of their compatriots sat on the floor bewailing his arm which had been shattered by a bullet. Another leaned groggily against a chest of drawers trying to staunch a heavy flow of blood from a deep sword-cut across his forehead.
Firmly fixed now as the acknowledged spokesman, the tubby soldier gave voice. ‘Hellish fucker, look what she done. Leveller bitch, we’re going to damage you!’
‘Where was she?’ asked Tobias mildly.
‘In there,’ said another, bearded, soldier pointing to a cupboard-like cavity concealed behind the headboard of the bed which they had pulled away from the wall. Obviously they had detected a hollow surface and smashed it in with their musket butts – at which point the occupant had retaliated.
‘Let us deal with her please, Father.’
‘Alas, no,’ said Tobias firmly ‘Orders are quite clear in this respect, even if a “No prisoners” call has been given. All captured pastors, especially female ones I would imagine, are to be conveyed to the general staff headquarters for interrogation.’
‘But Jack here is like as not to lose his arm ’cos of her!’
‘And my pretty face is spoilt for ever.’
‘Bloody right, no one ’ud know.’
‘Let us ’ave her!’
Tobias sensed that feeling was running high enough for the situation to get out of hand so he decided to make a concession while all the while his imagination raced.
‘So you shall – providing no permanent damage is done; after which she’ll be taken for questioning and you know what happens there so the end result is the same.’
While they paused to consider this he pressed ahead in getting his own way. ‘Is she fully disarmed?’
‘Yes she is.’
‘Right, wait downstairs until I’ve finished questioning her myself, then you can do what you want.’
‘But what about — ’
Tobias interrupted with a shout. ‘Those are bloody orders, not a topic for discussion, now get out – move!’
Perhaps realising the rashness of their last few exchanges, the soldiers hurried to comply, leading the wounded with them.
‘We’ll be seeing you, lots of you,’ growled the tubby one to the woman.
‘Besides,’ added Tobias mildly, ‘your strongbox is downstairs unattended.’
With this added incentive the men left and Tobias followed them in order to shut the door. This done he turned to face the woman. ‘I should state now that if there’s any attempt to escape or injure me on your part I will kill you immediately.’
She seemed to think about this and in the ensuing pause Tobias studied her more closely.
There was a passing resemblance to Diane but not much more than that. This woman’s features were naturally
stern and cold. Her longish black hair was drawn firmly back into a tight bun and it seemed probable that this was not just a campaign measure but a habitual practice.
‘By magic I presume you mean,’ she said in a high-pitched, yet fragile voice.
‘Probably – though pistol or hands would serve equally well.’
‘Doubtless.’
‘I presume I’m right in saying you’re a pastor, I mean that collar’s not just something you’ve put on for some obscure reason?’
‘Deaconess actually; my pastor exams await me.’
‘Or not, as the case may be.’
She did not answer this.
‘I have a bargain to offer you,’ said Tobias. He moved across the room and sat on the bed.
‘I will not betray friends and brothers, nor will I divulge any secrets to which I am bound by oath; I’m ready to face your filthy tortures … Crusaders … phah!’
‘Please don’t bluster,’ said Tobias, ‘I am not in the least bit deceived. In any case that is not the nature of my bargain, please be seated.’ He indicated a wicker chair and proceeded to light up another cigarette, all the time keeping a wary eye on the woman.
‘I’m not afraid of you, priest. I count myself as dead now and what more can you and your crew do to me beyond that?’
‘Quite a great deal I should imagine, for we are rather an inventive lot. You see, there are different means of departing this world, some quick and easy, others … less so. And at the time the means is so terribly important. Don’t get me wrong, please; I don’t wish to deal in crude threats. However as you so rightly say, you are to all intents and purposes as good as dead, which is where my bargain comes in as a means of revivifying you.’
Obviously the woman was less than totally committed to the inevitability of her forthcoming demise. Her eyebrows rose and her attention, hitherto lacklustre, was fully sparked.
‘What does that mean?’
‘My part of the bargain is to ensure you escape to fight another day as it were.’
Try as she might, the woman could not keep the signs of renewed hope from crossing her face.
‘Alive? Escape? Out of this town?’
‘Absolutely – look will you please sit down.’
She failed to hear this, being somewhat dazed at being reborn. However, humans are notoriously ungrateful creatures and soon her natural pugnaciousness began to reappear.
‘And what do you receive in return?’
Tobias pulled on his cigarette and raised his eyebrows. ‘What do you have?’
She considered this and then reached inside her tunic, at which Tobias instinctively stiffened, ready to kill her, and pulled out a handful of jewellery. He could see a necklace of red stones and some gold-coloured chains.
‘Rubies and gold, priest. I had thought to use them to finance our activities should I escape from here. Now you can have them – quite appropriate really, they’re pillaged from a rich, papist bitch. Render unto Caesar you know … ’
‘The “papist bitch” – young and pretty?’
‘She was.’
‘I see.’ Tobias was revelling in a quite exquisite fashion over her unjustified confidence and arrogance. This was going to be so sweet; he was able to feel again. Old disused nerves too coarsened to appreciate anything less than the extreme came into use.
‘Will they do, priest?’
‘Yes,’ said Tobias.
‘Excellent – here!’ She slid them across the floor to him.
‘In part,’ he finished.
‘What! But I have nothing else, priest, take that or … No, please … why are you playing with me?’ She almost broke down.
‘You have the immaturity of the fanatic, madam,’ said Tobias. ‘Either you are all puffed up with confidence or an abject little girl. Remember your situation; I hold all the cards to use a metaphor and you must bargain with me in order to survive.’
As hoped, he had disorientated her now, and watched her swing from despair to hope and back again.
‘But, priest, I have nothing more to offer – can’t you see?’
‘I beg to correct you, madam: there is your first and most precious possession – your body.’
And there she is, he thought, a trainee priestess in an underground, persecuted Church. A proven warrior, probably spent all day up to her hocks in blood and gore and yet she reacts like a frigid mother superior at the suggestion that she has a usable carcass. St Paul’s got a lot to answer for.
When her mouth ceased gaping, she spat out, ‘Never!’ and looked downwards. Then, recovering fire, she stared at him again. ’I really would rather die!’
Tobias lit another cigarette and took a deep breath.
‘Possibly. But listen.’ He proceeded to count using the fingers of his left hand. ‘One: the soldiers downstairs, and probably your interrogators and executioner, will take you anyway so your fate in that direction is sealed. Two: your decision is a selfish one; if you continue to live I presume you feel you’ll be continuing to do God’s work. At the moment you’re putting personal pride, a sin, before the chance to continue that struggle. Three: your choice amounts to suicide – that is the sin of despair and presumption, a burning offence I’m told. And four: under our interrogation you will not be able to help betraying your comrades or “brothers” and the organisation you serve. Once again, you are putting pride before the best interests of others. Think on this.’
At last, the woman slumped into the wicker chair as she waged a war in her head.
Tobias knew the precepts of virtue well and had mustered his arguments skilfully. It was hard to use truly good people but he had met few enough of them (Cherry, what about Cherry? – forget) but these half-moral, half-human types could become like putty as they tried to reconcile two conflicting ideals.
When she looked up, he knew he had won; her eyes were hollow but just the smallest bit expectant.
‘What do you want, priest?’
‘Oh, about an hour should be sufficient,’ he said brightly, ‘an hour of absolute free access to your body in which you will cooperate in all I wish to do. You may speak and express any opinion during that time; in fact I would welcome such comments. In return, when I have finished I will take you to the London gate and secure you a horse and a passage past whatever guards are there. After that you are dependent on your undoubted ability to survive.’
‘Why all this fuss, priest? You could have taken or bought any woman in this poor town. Come to that you could have taken me.’
‘The point is valid, deaconess. However, for what I have in mind I want a pliant woman, not only that but a special type of woman. Your type gives me an especial frisson. So?’
She put on her strong and resolute face. ‘Very well.’
‘Good. Get on with it then.’
Very slowly at first but then speeding up, she undid her belt and lowered her heavy corduroy trousers. She had nothing on beneath them and Tobias appreciatively noted her nicely shiny thighs and bushy pubic mound. But halfway through her undressing she paused, rather ridiculously with her trousers partially down, and looked at Tobias.
‘But can I trust you, priest?’
‘There is no guarantee I can offer bar my word – and that, frankly, is worthless. Ironically enough you just have to trust me. Please proceed.’
Without going into more technical details it can be safely said that Tobias thoroughly enjoyed the Leveller woman during the following forty-five minutes or so. As a young man his attitude to sexual relations had been more or less orthodox. However in later years his researches (particularly in demonology) and, strange to say, his Bible readings had introduced him to more unusual avenues of obtaining satisfaction. Reading had led to curiosity, curiosity to further research, further research to fantasy and, Tobias being the man he was, fantasy naturally led to practice.
Throughout, the woman seemed to be in a mild state of shock, coupled with vociferous disgust; although she remained compliant and obeyed his, often co
mplex, instructions. This was exactly what he had hoped for, since a cooperative and yet unwilling partner brought nuances of domination and submission which were a major part of perversion’s appeal. His previous experiences with harlots and the like had lacked this element and had therefore been less sweet.
The Leveller woman had been a virgin and once this was discovered her deflowering had been Tobias’ first, swift action. Thereafter it might be said, looking on the bright side, she gained in less than an hour the equivalent of the accumulated lifetime experience of the most accomplished of courtesans.
When Tobias came for the second time and was finished, he hauled himself off her and began to rearrange his clothing. Even at that moment the memory of her pale face with downward twisting mouth and wide, glassy eyes, had the power to excite him and would continue to have this rare quality for a long time to come.
The woman, however, did not move but remained as she had been left, naked and bent over the bed staring at the opposite wall, eyes awash with hate.
Tobias could often be, when no material self-interest intervened, a man of his word and so, ignoring the woman, he left the room and went downstairs to the waiting soldiers. A couple more had now joined their number. Briefly and firmly he told them that they could proceed upstairs and take her as promised, on the strict condition that she was neither visibly nor permanently damaged by their attentions. He would give them half an hour by which time they must be finished.
It seemed that their long wait had not cooled their ardour at all for the men fairly rushed upstairs, even, Tobias noted with amusement, the wounded man with his injured arm in a rough splint which was obviously causing him enormous pain. Tobias wondered how on earth he would contrive to do anything; another anecdote stored in his head which due to a lack of desire to amuse or impress, he would never tell.
While the soldiers were about their business he resumed his place in the armchair, smoked and idly flicked through a book belonging to the room: a geographical account of the southern Americas, largely fiction he thought. By his feet he saw the strongbox, now empty; obviously the share-out had already been made. He did not even consider demanding a portion for his own labours; let the common sort have their small rewards for their obedience.
A Dangerous Energy Page 28