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Authors: Tom Holland

Tags: #Horror, #Historical Novel, #Paranormal

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BOOK: Deliver us from Evil
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Still watching, he allowed himself to be guided forward to the table by Milady. There, for a while he was distracted; for he seemed confronted by a very vision of heaven. Roses were strewn across the table, and mounds of food beyond his wildest imaginings. Remembering the meal which his mother had promised him, the goose which Hannah had never cooked, he felt as though he were being taunted by Fate, for there was not only goose before him now but also partridge and quail, fish and pastries, roast meats and fruits. To sit down to it, he vaguely felt, would be a betrayal of the past; yet his hunger was terrible, and he could not restrain himself. Milady watched and encouraged him, her eyes still greedy for the signs of his pleasure, which seemed to fill her with a passionate rapture of her own. But he noted how she barely ate herself; and as he began to satisfy his hunger, he felt once again how alone he was. He wished Emily were with him. Emily had always loved the good things in life - how she would have enjoyed such a feast! But then Robert heard a gasp from the end of the table, and a soft moan. He stared round. Godolphin was lying sprawled back in his chair; Lightborn's face was pressed against his chest, and he appeared to be lapping like a cat drinking milk. Then he paused and glanced up; Robert could see how his lips were smeared with blood, and that Godolphin's body had been patterned with cuts. As Lightborn grinned, and slithered his tongue in and out, Robert looked away. Perhaps it was best, he thought, that Emily was not there after all.

Yet soon he was longing for her company again. For when the meal was finished Milady led him from the table, out into the streets, and Robert found himself more enraptured than ever - enraptured, and overwhelmed. So this was London! He had come, he was aware, into a place of wonders such as he and Emily had never even dreamed might exist, when they had talked in Woodton of exploring the world. How Emily would have loved to be with him now! For what need was there to explore the world, he thought, when all the world already seemed in London's streets? Sights and sounds, and smells of all kinds; grandeur and squalor; darkness and light. On through the great labyrinth they passed; and with Milady beside him, Robert felt the whole city to be his.

It is Leviathan, he thought, as they paused on London Bridge, a monster of terrible and wondrous size, upon whose back men merely swarm and breed like flies. Yet Milady had tamed the monster, he realised: for beneath her stare it seemed transformed into her plaything, her private toy, and he felt a sudden longing to be like her and share in such a power. He looked up at her. 'Have you always lived here,' he asked, 'to know the streets so well?'

Milady shook her head. She continued to stare into the foam of the river, as it boiled and churned between the arches of the bridge. '
I
have not been in London a long while now,' she murmured.

'Then how

'Once,' she said slowly, '
I
knew the city well. Yes, and Lightborn too. But things were very different then.' She glanced towards Southwark, where the bridge met the southern bank of the Thames. 'We have not been back here since.'

'Since what?'

She smiled, and shook her head. 'Will you not tell me?' he pressed.

'One day, perhaps.' She laughed suddenly. 'But
I
do not believe you are ready for it yet.'

Robert's curiosity was only piqued by this; but Milady's face seemed suddenly frozen and veiled, and he was afraid to ask her more. 'Come,' she said abruptly, 'it is growing dark.' She paused for a moment, and seemed to smell the breeze. '
I
have business to attend to, and you - you must sleep. We should return to Pudding Lane.' She began to lead the way back across London Bridge, and Robert followed her, watching as she breathed in deeply again. When he looked up, he saw for the first time that there were two heads, freshly severed, set upon pikes. As they climbed towards their house, Milady paused yet again and, as she sniffed the air, her cheeks grew flushed. There was a cart rumbling past. Robert stared at its load: sacks of entrails from the butchers' shops. But still Milady said nothing; and when they reached the house she left him there alone, to his wonder and his dread. All that solitary night, it seemed, he prayed to God for guidance; the birds began to sing on the eaves outside his room, and the first beams of dawn to steal in through the window; but though he tossed and turned, Robert could hear no answer. He fell asleep at last, exhausted by his doubts; but he had not resolved them. Through his very dreams, the uncertainties echoed: whether his fascination was greater than his fear; whether the promise of great powers was an answer to his prayers, or rather a perilous and most damnable lure.

'you must cast the scholar off, And learn to court it like a gentleman
...
you must be proud, bold, pleasant, resolute, And now and then stab as occasion serves.'

Christopher Marlowe,
Edward
II

H

e was woken the next morning by a sudden cry. It seemed a woman's, and to come from the hallway downstairs. Robert dressed quickly and crept from his room. The woman was shouting something; she screamed loudly again, and he realised it was a cry not of agony, but of rage. He hurried on down the stairs. As he walked into the hall, he heard laughter - Lightborn's. At the sound of it, the woman screamed at him again.

She was young, and would have been pretty, but her hair was gathered beneath a plain, shapeless cap and her dress was starkly, almost ostentatiously plain. Nevertheless, its cut and fabric were as fine as Milady's, and though she dressed like a Puritan, Robert guessed that the woman must be rich. Lightborn, as before, was lolling in his chair. The woman's face was flushed with anger, Lightborn's perfectly cold. Robert stared at the two of them, then stepped forward. The woman spun round, her face growing even darker at the sight of him. She turned back to Lightborn. 'And do you have so little shame,' she asked, 'that even children are lodged in this dunghill of lusts?'

Lightborn smiled. 'You would do better to ask your husband that, Lady Godolphin, for it is he who has grown so . . . fond
...
of boys.' She shuddered. 'Where is he, then?' she hissed. Lightborn shrugged.

Lady Godolphin clenched her fists. 'Please,' she whispered. 'As you are a Christian - return him to me.'

'As
I
am a Christian?' Lightborn snorted. 'Fawn on me with your morality no longer, Madam. Begone. You are ceasing to amuse.'

'So you will not do as
I
request?'

Lightborn yawned. '
I
will not.'

'
I
shall send in my men, to ransack this house.'

'Do what you will. But
I
warn you, Lady Godolphin - the time will come when you repent of these lavish threatenings of yours. Go now, and
I
may spare you. Bother me further, and - well
...
we shall see.'

Lady Godolphin stood frozen for a second; then her face twisted, and she turned and left the room. Lightborn watched her go. 'These tedious drabs,' he murmured. He looked towards Robert. 'Let her be a warning to you,' he said, 'that you do not continue too long encumbered by religion.'

'But. . .' Robert shook his head in amazement. 'How could you not answer her request? You have stolen her husband.'

'What of it?' Lightborn gestured with a wave of his hand at the hall. 'Would you have us stay in this hovel forever?'

'Hovel? This is no hovel.'

'
I
tell you, it is. Certainly, compared with where we shall shortly reside.'

'
I
do not understand you.'

Lightborn grinned. 'Godolphin, my paramour, that bitch's loving husband, is a most wealthy man.
I
would not otherwise have chosen him. His house is marvellously fine, with carriages and stables and a view across the Park.'

Robert stared at him wide-eyed. '
I
still do not understand you,' he whispered.

'Then you are exceedingly slow.'

'You will - what...' - Robert swallowed - 'steal it from him?'

'Steal it? Why, no! He will give it to me.' Then Lightborn frowned suddenly. 'But has Milady not told you of the powers we possess?'

Robert stared at him dumbly for a moment. 'She has not said what such powers are,' he said at last. As he spoke, there was a sudden hammering on the door and cries from outside. Lightborn glanced round; his frown began to fade into a smile.

He turned back to Robert. 'Would you care to see what they can perform, then,' he asked, 'our powers?'

Again, there was a violent hammering on the door; and then the sudden splintering of wood.

'Watch,' said Lightborn. He turned, as four men strode into the hall. Heavily built, and armed with clubs, they saw Lightborn and at once began to make towards him. He did not flinch though, but stayed perfectly still, his expression a mixture of relish and contempt, his face as pale and hard as knuckles on a fist. His eyes glittered; and as the men drew near him, so he licked his lips. Suddenly, the men stopped in their tracks; their arms hung useless, and their clubs fell with a clatter from their hands on to the floor. Like birds before a serpent, they stood trapped within Lightborn's gaze.

He turned to Robert. 'Would not a trick like this have served your father well,' he asked, 'when faced by his killers? And might it not serve you, when you seek out your revenge? Observe now, what power
I
have to rule these fellows' minds.' He turned back to the men. At once, Robert saw how the blood drained from their faces, and their eyeballs rolled as though spun by their fear. They clutched at their heads and fell whimpering to the floor, then whined and retreated like dogs before a whip. Lightborn laughed; the men began to scream. Then Lightborn gestured with his hand, and at once three of them turned and scrabbled from the room. A fourth remained, still cowering on the floor. Lightborn studied him; then he crossed to the table and picked up a knife. He tested its blade on his fingertip; as he did so, the man shuddered and moaned. His face had been sweating like mouldy cheese, and as he stared up at Lightborn he suddenly clutched at his groin. Robert watched the puddle as it formed on the floor, and the smell took him back to the night within the stones.

Lightborn had been watching him quizzically. 'Tell me,' he asked, 'at Stonehenge, did you not similarly be-piss yourself with fear?'

Robert made no reply.

'Yes,' nodded Lightborn, '
I
remember the stench from your breeches.' He paused. 'You must have been grievously afraid.' He beckoned Robert forward; despite himself, Robert obeyed. Lightborn studied him. 'What did you see there?' he whispered in his ear. 'Someone who could kill even a creature like myself? That is what you said, is it not? That is what you claimed? Tell me!' He shook Robert suddenly. 'Is that what you saw?'

Robert nodded dumbly.

'
I
believe you,' said Lightborn, icy cold once again. 'For
I
smelt it, even above the reek of your piss: dead immortal - a pretty paradox to be hanging in the air. But who could have done it - what order of thing?'

'It was the Devil,' said Robert.

'The Devil!' Lightborn spat.

'
I
saw its face, it was the Lord of Flies.'

'You saw something else.'

'Then what?'

'Something too great for your own feeble powers, certainly.'

'And too great for yours?'

'That remains to be seen.' Lightborn shrugged. 'But who would have the greater chance against such a creature, do you think, myself - or you?'

Robert bowed his head. He thought of Emily - a prisoner still, or worse, back in Woodton. 'What then must
I
do, to share in your powers?'

'It is easy.' Lightborn grinned, and stroked the blade of his knife. 'You must surrender a phantom which does not exist.' 'And what is that?'

'Why' - Lightborn's grin grew even broader - 'merely your soul.' 'No!' cried Robert. He shrank back and crossed his hands over his heart.

'You will not be parted from it, then?' 'Not while
I
hope to see my parents in Heaven.' Lightborn snorted. 'Heaven, Hell - what are these childish toys?' Robert stared at him in horror. 'You talk as if there were no God at all.'

Lightborn stared at him wide-eyed; then threw back his head and laughed more wildly than before.

Robert flushed with sudden anger. What was this strange world he had entered, where such evil could be spoken with such casual ease? More abandoned than ever he felt, more abandoned and alone; and as he shook, so he thought of Emily again, and how she too was alone.

BOOK: Deliver us from Evil
7.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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