Once mentioned, Tobias’ wound began to throb.
‘Have you got a mirror of some sort?’
There was a pause. ‘Er … not really sir, but try this.’
Sykes came over to his officer’s wagon with a battered morion helmet full of water. In his shimmering reflection Tobias saw there was a disfiguring mark across his temple.
‘Ugly,’ he said.
‘But harmless, sir, so long as you washes it.’
‘Permanent do you think?’
‘Probably.’
Tobias swung out of the wagon. From his pack which he had hidden under the straw he took a cut-throat razor and using the water still held by Sykes he began to shave.
‘What’s happened and who’s left?’
‘Town’s been under sack all night and day, sir; I think the order is to fire it now – leastways, the people are being driven out.’
‘Heretics?’
‘All dead or fled, they’ve been killing and maiming prisoners all night, sir. I ’ear tell that some regiments who escaped are making a fighting retreat across the chalk downs; only two or three at the most, mind you. Lord Pearce ’as gone after ’em.’
‘Our file?’
‘Ten left plus me, sir – not too bad considering the rest of the retinue.’
‘I see; did you have a good day, Sykes?’
‘Not bad, sir; we moved to five breach, ’twas a mite easier there, once in we split up and I enjoyed myself for a while.’
‘How so?’
‘Just drink and a pretty plump girl, sir, beggin’ your pardon.’
Sykes had come to know Father Oakley reasonably well and so was not abashed to offer this sort of information.
‘And pillaging no doubt.’
‘A little, sir – just looking out for my wife and kiddies.’
‘Doubtless; in that case how much do you want for a bottle of whatever drink you stole – bearing in mind I could order you to give it to me.’
‘Er … a fine Bordeaux from a gentleman’s cellar … a pound?’ He offered tentatively.
‘You’re a bloody thief, Sykes, a pound it is and don’t go for it till I’ve done shaving.’
‘Right, sir.’
‘And go and get a chair for me, comfortable mind you, and a decent wine glass too. You wouldn’t understand, but this is a beautiful and important night and must not be spoilt in any detail, however small.’
‘Just as you say, sir.’
The Army, Tobias discovered, was still in a state of chaos although enough troops remained under order to implement the command to fire the town. This was done partly to make an example and punish, and partly as the only conceivable means of ending the sack and thus reuniting the Army.
As usual in such events, senior officials attached to the Crown were beginning to rack their brains as to how to persuade these now unwelcome guests back to their own countries.
As it was, save for the regular Army units, troops were scattered all over the countryside and coming and going much as they pleased. Therefore, Tobias thought, there was plenty of time yet before he need report his experiences and his continued existence to a commanding officer.
And so by ten-thirty p.m. on the day following the fall of Reading, Tobias was settled comfortably in a large high-backed chair (late of a well-furnished home) with a glass of fine wine in one hand and a constant succession of cigarettes in the other. Like a barbarian chieftain, he had his (diminished) warriors seated just behind him round a large fire. To his front was a fire on an altogether more massive scale. It was an impressive panorama that Tobias had for his amusement that night. A large part of the town was merrily ablaze and in the rest tiny points of light moved as the Crusaders went about their business or the townsfolk sought escape. Similar dainty fireflies picked their way to and from the town. In the inky blackness beyond, individual farms and villages went up in flames, so that the resultant wasteland might be an eloquent warning of the dangers of heresy. In the night sky the stars twinkled merrily so that the whole earth and firmament was both burning light and deep darkness.
Despite himself Tobias was quite moved at the beauty of the dying town; the noise of the surrounding baggage train and its animals ceased to reach him. From the burning ruin he seized great truths and a rare stimulation of mind. Not a bad day or two at all.
It was a glorious thing, he thought, thus to sit in comfort, not to mention luxury, and watch the whole world on fire knowing that it was, in part, your own handiwork.
So reflecting, he sat, smoked and drank and watched Reading burn. However after a while his thoughts dulled, although he continued to raise glass and cigarette to mouth mechanically. His eyes glazed over and he fell into the even, frigid trance in which he was to spend much of the rest of his life.
BOOK FOUR
NOVEMBER 2003-NOVEMBER 2026
From: THE BOOK OF CEREMONIAL MAGIC
By Sir Arthur Waite
Published London, Auto-da-fe Press, 1911.
… Since I am most mindful of my moral duty to my readers and aware of the impetuosity of youth under instruction, I feel it apposite to close this volume with some words concerning an aspect of the magical arts but lightly touched upon above; namely Demonology.
I say straightaway it is entirely correct that the laity, the uninvolved, be taught that such creatures are part of the Hierarchy of Hell, as named and enumerated by the Church since earliest times. The only duty of the faithful is to know, to fear and to leave well alone; subject to the very gravest penalties in this world and the next. Even to breathe the relevant names is both perilous and a sin.
The deeper truth, however, is that such powerful princes of the Enemy’s realm are happily beyond the feeble summonses of man. Those who answer to our call are some lesser breed, inimical to be sure but oft-times useful. Their professed ignorance of our theological universe and their ultimate Master is, of course, a dastardly lie and only to be expected.
If on occasion we suborn Satan’s footsoldiers to the cause of good, then that is a laudable thing, sanctioned by Mother Church and a fitting use of the strange talent given, in His benevolence, by God to some of the sons of Adam.
However, and I beseech you not to skip lightly over these words, the work of which I speak is not for novices. If this volume has been of any use, if its most difficult exercises have not been the merest child’s play to you, if you are not shielded by the armour of virtue and steeped in long years of the deepest magic, then you are not ready.
Those who prematurely seek the company of demons will meet only one – and then spend all eternity in its company.
A.W.
London, Bognor, Jaffa. 1902-10
CHAPTER 1
In which an impressive gathering is described.
Practical considerations aside, magicians’ conventions were first and foremost an excuse for socialising and dressing up. Even Tobias felt a slight surge of pleasurable expectation as, stepping on to the speaker’s dais, he saw in the audience a number of old acquaintances with whom he might wish to exchange a few words. Like the rest of the glittering array gathered there, he had taken the opportunity to put on his full regalia and devote more care than usual to his appearance.
Physical middle-age had come upon Tobias early but thereafter his decline had stabilised somewhat so that he looked only a little older than other men of his age. His bald crown was today concealed by a fine scarlet sugar-loaf hat. Its shadow hid the curious broad scar which transversed his forehead while, behind, his remaining hair protruded, grown long and waxed into a fashionable stiff pigtail. He wore a matching scarlet gown of good quality cloth as befitted his Master of Magic status and it was further dignified by two medals, gleaming brightly. (One was a common award to all senior participants in the Thames Valley Crusade, the other was an award for conspicuous bravery in the field during that event – Tobias had been most surprised to receive it.)
Along with all the other worthies, he took a seat on the platform behind the l
ong oaken table and looked benignly into the middle distance. In front of him the large lecture room was nearly full to capacity, perhaps three or four hundred people, many as highly qualified and resplendent as himself.
Outside it was bitterly cold (it was mid-November) but within the lecture hall a line of old, red painted boilers kept the temperature agreeably mild.
He realised the conference would not start for some time yet as a number of people, too exalted to be rebuked for their poor timekeeping, were still entering the room. Some kind soul had shown great consideration and prior knowledge of the speaker’s habits by putting a large ashtray by his appointed place at the table. Duly reminded Tobias lit up a cigarette. He smoked constantly, mostly cigarettes, though he had a passion for cigars and pipe tobacco as well. He always held his cigarettes in a curiously distinctive manner with his palm facing outward. It was accounted to be another of his mild eccentricities and it came to be a widely known mannerism; in due course of time it was even copied by young magicians seeking to emulate an illustrious figure in their profession in every detail.
Through the large side windows Tobias could see the impressive and gloomy bulk of Westminster Abbey to which the lecture theatre (kindly lent by the Archbishop) was attached. Judging by the clouds he would not be at all surprised if it snowed in a short while.
All of the conference organisers and participants had just marched in solemn ceremonial order from the Abbey where a special mass had been conducted in honour of such an important occasion. Once this was out of the way everything became much more informal and up to a point the finer elements of rank and seniority were forgotten in an atmosphere of professional expectation. Rumours were about that this conference was to be a particularly significant one and, in pursuance of raising such hopes, Tobias had deliberately chosen a striking title for his initial address. He could see people reading this in the conference programme, raising their eyebrows, drawing their neighbours’ attention to it and then gazing at him in a vain attempt to seek further clarification. Obviously his innocent ploy had worked, although its success or failure mattered not a jot. Perhaps, on second thoughts, it was a touch on the vulgar side but neither did this worry him; magicians were renowned for their supposed lack of ‘good taste’ and could be safely relied upon not to notice any such minor skirmish with propriety.
A depressed-looking Aborigine steward came round bearing a tray of coffees for the speakers. It was to be presumed that he was the same man who had thoughtfully provided for Tobias’ incendiary habits and so he was favoured with a polite smile as Tobias took his cup. Coffee always made him feel a slight tinge of cheerfulness. Even after all these years it still had all the properties and associations of a rare treat to him although his kitchen never lacked a large jar of it (of the one and only type he favoured), now that his fortunes had so improved.
He placidly stirred the beverage and studied the audience as they buzzed and hummed and shuffled to their seats – several bishops, perhaps a round dozen masters of magic, maybe twice that number of assistant masters. In fact they formed a very imposing group if a speaker happened to be nervous, which Tobias was not.
Also scattered about the room was a handful of black-gowned elderly men whom Tobias took to be dons of theoretical magic from one of the universities. And there were a few magicians from the Army and Navy distinguished by their extravagant blue uniforms. In practice the Forces did not attract magicians of high calibre or learning, and very often His Majesty’s Army or Navy served as a safe refuge when some professional or social indiscretion came to light. One man, to judge by his dark-red suit of military cut, was attached to the papal forces stationed in London; therefore one could presume he was not English (it was strict papal policy to station troops in countries other than that of their origin), and that he was a man of exceptional talent.
Also present, unknown to Tobias, were observers from the great teaching schools at Rome and Avignon. There at their own behest were individual Church magicians from The Empire, France, Ireland, Scotland, the Duchy of Cornwall, ‘Free Wales’ (unbeknown to the organisers for, of necessity, the man in question was masquerading as a Breton for the duration of the conference) and a host of other, lesser, nations. The brotherhood between magicians, born of a common search for knowledge, could, on occasion, transcend Christendom’s hobbling sense of nationalism.
The rest of the gathering was made up of contingents from the English teaching centres, London (Westminster), London (Southwark) and Liverpool; both teachers and pupils. Tobias was pleased to note a short row of journeymen who bore a ring of stars on their armbands similar to his own, but he did not recognise the two senior magicians in charge of them.
A large number of freelance magicians, nearly all Church-trained but now working in secular fields, completed the gathering, their occupations and apparel being too diverse to recount. They were either men of ability but dubious reputation, akin to Phillip Chitty, too good for the forces but too degraded for the Church or of insufficient ability to be required by either.
It would be more correct to say that these ‘Jack-magicians’ almost completed the gathering for at the last moment, when the chairman was clearing his throat as a means of requesting silence and Tobias was meaningfully shuffling his notes, two most unexpected guests entered the room and the conference was unquestionably delayed until the new arrivals were ready.
It was a rare thing for a Grand Master of Magic to travel at all, let alone attend conferences where, surely, he could learn nothing new. And yet, here, the conference – and indirectly Tobias as chief speaker – was honoured by the presence of the Grand Master of Magic of the South-East. This grossly corpulent man was responsible for all matters magical and all related ‘political’ interests of the Church in an area greater than that presided over by England’s grandest noblemen, although he was but the son of an illiterate fisherman from Newhaven. From such humble beginnings, Baxter had risen to a position where it was quite within his power to strike off the heads of all those who exploited and burdened his father. Yet he forbore to do so because he was, or had become, a very practical man with whom such passions as revenge and snobbery had not even a passing acquaintance. It is a paradox of power that it is often necessary to renounce some of the more stimulating emotions, the indulgence of which is one of power’s major attractions, in order to attain it in the first place.
Men like Baxter usually remained ensconced in their palaces, fully absorbed in the myriad complexities of their little kingdoms. In theory they were answerable only to the King and the two Archbishops.
However, for this unusual occasion he had brought his assistant along with him, himself a high-ranking Master. In great contrast to his master, the assistant was an abnormally thin man, emaciated to the point of being skeletal. His skin had a bluish tinge to it although that might have been a trick of the light.
The two men unhurriedly made their way to vacant seats in the very front of the concourse acknowledging no one and leisurely settled themselves.
At once the atmosphere was charged with a new excitement, since this was a great portent. To magicians, such a man as the Grand Master carried more weight than any other of their spiritual superiors; as professionals they respected his implied expertise over and above the respect due to any other person. His presence was a great commendation to any enterprise.
Once arranged to his own satisfaction, the corpulent Grand Master indulgently waved a beringed hand as a signal to proceed.
With his self-assurance only slightly diminished, the chairman (Master of Magic to the Bishop of Lincoln) rose to give the initial address.
‘Your Grace, Brothers, esteemed guests, it is my honour and privilege this year to welcome you to the one hundred and thirteenth Annual Thaumaturgical Conference of England. May I say how gratified I am to see here so many senior and renowned members of our vocation gathered together in a common enterprise of enquiry. This laudable spirit makes us all look forward to a profitable exchange of views
and knowledge this week and therefore I will delay the start as little as possible by my introduction. As you are all aware our general theme is that of Demonology, a field in which there has been surprisingly little research in the last century or so. It is therefore with great pleasure that I introduce Father Tobias Oakley, who is currently Master of Magic to the Bishop of Reading, and who is undoubtedly well known to you all through his widely acclaimed publications. As senior speaker, Father Oakley’s first paper is entitled … ’
The chairman picked up his agenda sheet and quizzed it through his pince-nez (an affectation – they contained clear glass).
‘ … is entitled, “Demonology – An Over-elaborate Art”. A most intriguing title I think you’ll agree. Your Grace, Brothers: Father Oakley.’
Tobias stood up to an encouraging round of applause. He bowed politely to the Grand Master.
‘Your Grace, Ladies and Gentlemen.’ (Here he scored a point, for perhaps a third of the more junior magicians present were women. The Church had recently relaxed the rules on such matters, for as its Empire grew larger, more and more possessors of the talent were required and those thus gifted could not be passed over solely on the grounds of gender.)
‘I hope I am not being over-ambitious in my plans for my address but, to be blunt, my intention is in the course of this conference to diminish the demonological art radically. Hence the somewhat sensationalist title I notified to the Agenda Committee, for which I hope you’ll forgive me.
‘To be specific, I intend to show that around one fifth of the ceremonies described as “essential” in the standard texts for the ten major summonings are unnecessary elaborations and can therefore be safely dispensed with. I hasten to say, however, that my task is not entirely a destructive one. Alongside the proposals I have just outlined, I also intend to describe new spells or ceremonies of my own design which reinforce or improve existing formulae for summoning, subduing and dismissal.
A Dangerous Energy Page 30