The Devil in Green (62 page)

The great hall had the uneasy atmosphere that permeated all the new
buildings, but it was made even worse by the spiralling desperation and
anxiety in the wake of Cornelius's murder. The vast expanse was filled
with clustering shadows not even a row of blazing torches could dispel.
The furthest the illumination reached was a row of hideous oversized
gargoyles halfway up the wall. Whoever had designed them had made it
seem as though they were looking down on those assembled below either
disapprovingly or threateningly, depending on your perspective.

The knights stood in two ranks. Most shuffled and muttered apprehensively at what might now lie ahead for them. The Blues, though, were
silent and disciplined, eyes fixed firmly ahead as if on parade. Mallory
watched them with the wariness of a competing species. They were
too
professional, too far removed from the other knights; and probably too
ruthless and violent as well, if Blaine had truly cast them in his own image.
Why had he seen fit to create an elite force of knights? Why not simply
train all knights to the same standard? And why were they so rarely seen
around the cathedral? What special project did Blaine have them working
on? The more he understood the hierarchies and powers within the
cathedral, the more suspicious he became of them on every level.

Blaine marched in after they had been assembled for twenty minutes.
He was accompanied by Hipgrave, who had managed to shake off some of
the daze that had characterised him earlier, and the captain of the Blues, a
muscular, square-jawed thirty-year-old by the name of Roeser.

Blaine didn't waste time getting to the crux of the matter. 'You'll all have
heard the news by now. The bishop is dead . . . murdered . . . perpetrator
unknown. Others are dealing with the leadership fallout of such a great
loss at such a difficult time. Our role in this is clearly defined and we must
be single-minded about its execution, despite the many obvious distractions the days ahead must hold. Although security has been foremost in
our minds ever since we established ourselves here in Salisbury, our
defences have still been compromised. I will be launching an immediate
inquiry to discover exactly what went wrong, and if there have been any
lapses in the responsibilities of individuals, make no mistake, they will be
severely punished.

'But the most pressing concern is to ensure that whoever carried out this
atrocity is caught and brought to immediate justice before he can commit
any further crimes. This will naturally entail some short-term loss of
personal freedom. Some movement around the compound will be
restricted. Premises and possessions may be searched and confiscated.
There will undoubtedly be detailed questioning and cross-questioning.
Patrols will have to be stepped up.' He paused. 'The use of lethal force will
be approved. The safety of the brethren is our overarching concern.
Unfortunately, that means we may have to take actions that go against our
nature, but we make these sacrifices as Christians, for the benefit of others.
It is our job sometimes to do unpleasant things so the brethren do not have
to. That is the cross we bear.

'All of you are security-minded and will understand the necessity of
these measures to prevent any more acts of unadulterated Evil. In this role,
we will need to be seen to be acting with the utmost rigour and decorum.
Anyone who lets the side down will not want to live, believe me. Captains
Hipgrave and Roeser will oversee your allocation into effective units with
particular responsibilities. A more structured shift-pattern will be drawn
up to accommodate these changes. One other thing: we shall be working
alongside the Inquisition of Heretical Depravity and your full co-operation
will be required.' He nodded curtly and exited. It was a well-rehearsed
speech that Mallory found quite chilling, the more so for its modulated
language.

'He's left Hipgrave in charge? Blaine's crazy,' Daniels whispered. 'Look
at him - he's falling apart. I wouldn't let Hipgrave oversee a Sunday
school.'

'I don't like the sound of any of this,' Mallory said.

'Why not?' Gardener said sullenly. 'It's necessary.'

'Is it? Sounds to me like an over-reaction. Or a chance for people who
love control and discipline to seize more of it.'

'We don't want any of that weak talk.' There was an uncommonly
harsh edge to Gardener's voice. 'If we go soft now we won't stand a
chance. You think those things out there are soft? You think the Devil's
soft?'

'All right, Gardener, calm down.' Daniels laid a steadying hand on his
shoulder. 'We're all in this together and we'll all play our part.'

Mallory wanted to talk about how the
loss of personal freedom
and the
involvement of the Inquisition in a criminal affair was more evidence of
the medieval mentality that had infected the cathedral, but he bit his
tongue. There were times when there was no arguing with Gardener.

Miller was pale and wide-eyed. 'I've been thinking—'

'You don't learn, do you, Miller?' Mallory said.

'No one in this cathedral could have done that awful thing to the
bishop,' Miller continued. 'You say those creatures outside can't come in
here, but do we know that for sure? I think this is linked to the appearance
of all the new buildings. Sometimes they seem as though they go on for
ever. The
killer
...
the Devil
. . .
could be hiding in there.'

They all thought about this for a moment until Mallory said, 'Have you
had a blow to the head, Miller? A good idea
-
unbelievable.'

'We should tell Hipgrave . .
.'
Daniels began, until he saw the captain's
blank expression as he wandered along the lines splitting the knights into
groups.

'This is down to us,' Gardener said, with fire. 'We've got to search the
place.'

'We'll have to do it without Blaine knowing,' Mallory said. 'He'll think
we're just skiving. Or worse, involved in some way. It'll be hard.'

Gardener gripped his wrist forcefully. 'We can do it.'

Strands of luminescent mist drifted eerily across the rolling moor, collecting in the hollows where it turned with a life of its own. Boulders of dark-
grey granite were scattered here and there amongst clumps of spiky gorse
and saplings swaying gently in the breeze. It was night. Across the sable
sky a trail of stars swirled, diamond lights, cold and sharp. A full moon
hung high overhead casting a bright light that painted the landscape silver
and sent long black shadows stretching out across the stony path along
which Mallory walked. It had the feel of late-summer-turning-autumn
about it: still warm enough for shirt sleeves but with an encroaching chill.

Mallory paused to survey the moon and stars for a long period. They
mesmerised him, spoke loudly of infinite wonder and distant magic. The
air smelled so good, thick with the rich perfume of night-time vegetation.
His breathing was deep; he felt at peace.

He followed the path across the moor to a thick glade on a hill that rose
up out of the flat countryside. The oak and ash, rowan and hawthorn were
all ancient, their trunks twisted, their branches heavy and gnarled. Beneath
their cover it was cooler, tranquil. Dry twigs crunched beneath his feet; the
leaf mould felt like a carpet.

'Hello, Mallory.'

Her voice sounded like the chime of a crystal glass, filling him with such
a swell of emotion that he felt as if he was rising off the ground.