The Spook's Sacrifice (13 page)

'Is it that one, Mam?' I said, pointing up at the
nearest one, perched on a high pinnacle to our right.

'No,' she said, shaking her head and pulling the
protective veil across her face again. 'That one's called
Ayiou Stefanou – although it's spectacular and the
closest to the town, it's not the highest or most
important. No, we have a long journey ahead of us.'

We walked for hours, the impressive rounded cliffs
and pinnacles of Meteora always in our sight. At last
we approached an imposing monastery built on a
high, broad rock.

'That's Megalou Meteorou directly ahead,' Mam
said. 'The grandest of them all. It's about six hundred
and fifteen feet high, almost twice the height of
Priestown Cathedral's steeple.'

'How was it possible to build on a rock that high?'
I asked, gazing up at it in amazement.

'There are lots of stories, son,' Mam told me, 'but
that monastery was founded by a man called
Athanasios hundreds of years ago. Monks had lived in
caves hereabouts for a long time, but this was the very
first of the monasteries to be built. One story is that
Athanasios flew on the back of an eagle to reach the
top . . .' She pointed up to where two eagles rode
the thermals high above.

'It sounds a bit like the story about Herakles throwing
that big rock!' I said with a smile.

'No doubt it does, Tom. It's much more likely that he
was helped by the locals, who were skilled rock
climbers.'

'So how are we going to get up there?'

'There are steps, Tom. Lots of them. It'll be a hard
climb, but imagine how difficult they must have been
to cut into the rock! Just Mr Gregory, you and I will
make the climb. Alice must wait behind. The monks
know me well – I've talked to them many times – but
women aren't generally welcome up there.'

The escort waited below with the disappointed
Alice, while I followed Mam and the Spook up the
stone steps. There was no rail and a sheer drop
threatened to the side. At last we came to an iron door
set in the rock. A monk opened it wide and admitted
us to further flights of steep steps. Finally we reached
the summit and saw a large dome ahead of us.

'That's the
katholicon
,' Mam said with a smile.

I knew the word, which meant a church or main
chapel. 'Is that where we're going?'

'No, we're going to visit the Father Superior in his
private quarters.'

We were led towards a small building and then into
a spartan cell, where a monk with a gaunt grey face
and a head shaven even closer than Bill Arkwright's
squatted on the stone floor. His eyes were closed and
he hardly seemed to be breathing. I looked at the bare
stone walls and the straw in the corner that served as a
bed – not the accommodation I'd expected for the
important priest who ruled the monastery.

The door closed behind us but the Father Superior
made no attempt to acknowledge us or move. Mam
put a finger to her lips to indicate that we should
be silent. Then I noticed the monk's lips moving
slightly and realized that he was saying his prayers.

When he finally opened his eyes and regarded us
each in turn, I saw that they were the colour of the
bluebells that brighten the County woodlands in
spring. He gestured that we should join him on the
floor so we sat down facing him.

'This is my friend, Mr Gregory, an enemy of the
dark,' Mam said, nodding towards the Spook.

The monk gave him a faint smile. Then his eyes locked
upon mine. 'Is this your son?' he asked. He spoke in
Greek – in a dialect I found easy to understand.

'Yes, Father,' Mam replied in the same language,
'this is my youngest and seventh son, Thomas.'

'Have you a plan to enter the Ord?' asked the monk,
turning to Mam again.

'If you could use your influence to persuade them to
stand aside, some of my party could take the place of
Kalambaka's delegation.'

The monk frowned. 'To what purpose?' he
demanded. 'What would you hope to achieve by
taking such a risk?'

'A few of the Ordeen's servants are already awake
when the Ord first appears – just the ones who receive
the delegation. We will distract them, and while they
are diverted, a larger attack will be mounted. We are
hoping to reach the Ordeen and destroy her before she
is fully awake . . .'

'Will you take part in the sacrificial blood ritual?
Would you go that far?'

'There is more than one way to breach a citadel's
defences. I will employ the same device used by the
ancients – a
wooden horse
,' Mam added mysteriously.

I hadn't a clue what she meant, but the monk's eyes
suddenly lit up in understanding; then he fixed his
gaze upon me once more.

'Does the boy know what is required of him?' he
asked.

Mam shook her head. 'I will tell him when the time
is right. But he's a loyal and obedient son and will do
what is necessary.'

At those words my heart sank. I remembered what
the Fiend had told me. Had he been telling the truth?
The Father Superior had used the term 'sacrificial
blood ritual'. Was I to be sacrificed in order to gain
victory?

The Spook now spoke for the first time. 'It seems to me
that there's a great deal we haven't yet been told – no
doubt we'll be finding out the worst soon enough,' he
said, giving Mam a withering glance. 'But what can
you
tell me, Father? Have there been signs yet to indicate
precisely when the Ord will pass through the portal?'

The Father Superior shook his head. 'No, but it will
be soon – days rather than weeks, we believe.'

'We've little time to prepare,' Mam said, rising to her
feet. 'We must take our leave of you. So I must ask you
once again, Father – will you ask the delegation to
stand aside so that we may replace them?'

The Father Superior nodded. 'I will do as you ask –
no doubt they'll be happy to be relieved of a duty that
for most is a death sentence. But before you go, I
would like you to hear us pray,' he said. 'The boy
particularly. I sense that he has little idea of our power.'

So we followed the Father Superior from his bare
cell towards the magnificent dome of the
katholicon
. I
was a little irritated by his comment. How did he know
what I thought? I'd never really believed that prayers
could achieve anything but I'd always added my
'Amen' when Dad had said grace before our family
supper. I respected those who had faith and prayed,
just as my dad had taught me. There were many ways
to reach the light.

The church was splendid, with its ornate marble and
beautiful mosaics. About a hundred monks were
standing facing the altar with steepled hands as if
already at prayer, though they hadn't yet begun.
Suddenly they began to sing. Their prayer was a
hymn. And what a hymn!

I'd heard the choirboys sing in Priestown Cathedral,
but in comparison to this it had been little more than a
tavern sing-song. The voices of the monks rose up into
the dome in perfect accord, to swoop and soar there
like angels. You could sense the incredible strength of
all those voices singing in harmony. A powerful sound
with a single purpose.

Had those prayers
really
had the power to keep the
Ordeen at bay? Apparently so. But the power of
the dark had grown, and this time the bloodthirsty
goddess would not be confined to the plain. Unless we
could destroy her first, she would attack the County.
But the odds against our success were very high.

We took our leave of the Father Superior and left the
katholicon
, the hymns of the monks receding behind us.
It was then that I caught a glimpse of the Spook's
face. It was twisted with anger as it had been when
he'd left me at the farmhouse and rushed back to
Chipenden. I sensed that he was getting ready to speak
his mind; and that Mam would receive the full force of
its withering blast.

'The blood ritual . . . what does it involve?'
demanded the Spook, staring hard at Mam.

We were in her tent, seated on the ground in a circle.
Alice was on my left, the Spook to my right. Also
present were Bill Arkwright and Grimalkin. The Spook
had given Mam a piece of his mind as soon as we
returned to camp. Politely but firmly he'd demanded
to know exactly what we were all facing, especially the
delegation; he'd even accused Mam of holding back
important information that we badly needed.

This meeting was the result of those hot words.
Mam was grim and unsmiling. I sensed there were
things she didn't want to say – certainly not to this
gathering. I think she would have preferred to speak to
me alone.

'I don't know everything – far from it,' she admitted.
'What I know I've learned from talking to
the survivors of previous delegations. Some of the
accounts were contradictory, probably because their
minds had been damaged by the experience. It seems
that the servants of the Ordeen demand blood. And
they'll want
your
blood, Tom.'

'
My
blood? Why will they want my blood?'

'Because you'll be the youngest, son. You see, each
time a delegation visits, they take the blood of its
youngest member. And we really do want to give them
your blood – that's important.'

'You expect your son to give his life?' the Spook
demanded angrily.

Mam shook her head and smiled. 'This time they
won't be killing the donor – although that's what has
happened in the past. This time they'll just get a cupful
of blood.' Her gaze moved from the Spook to me. 'Do
you know the story of the Fall of Troy?' she asked.

I shook my head. Although she'd taught me Greek,
Mam had spoken little of her homeland; my life back
at the farm had been filled with tales of the County, its
boggarts, witches and wars.

'In ancient times, we Greeks fought a long and
terrible war against Troy,' she continued. 'We
besieged the city for many years, our forces camped
outside its impregnable walls. At last our people
crafted a great wooden horse and left it on the plain
before Troy and sailed away, pretending to have
given up the fight. That huge wooden horse was
assumed to be an offering for the gods, and the Trojans
dragged it into their city and began to celebrate their
victory.

'It was a trick. The horse was hollow, and that night,
when the Trojans had retired to their beds, exhausted
and drunk with wine, the Greeks who'd hidden inside
it crept out and threw open the gates of the city,
allowing their returning army to enter. Then the
slaughter began: Troy burned and the war was finally
won. Son,
you
will be my Trojan horse. We will trick the
Ordeen's servants and breach the defences of the Ord.'

'How?' I asked.

'The Ordeen needs a sacrifice of human blood to
awaken her from her sleep in the dark beyond the
portal. Your blood will animate her; give her life. But
your blood is mine also: the blood of her sworn enemy
will be flowing through her veins. It will weaken her.
Limit her terrible power. Not only that: sharing the
same blood will make you like kin. You will have
access to places that would not normally be open to
you. And so will I. The Ordeen's defences – traps,
snares and other dark entities – will be weakened.
Those who guard her have senses that are attuned to
blood. They may not all see you – or me – as a threat.
That is what I hope to achieve.'

'You say just a cupful of Tom's blood?' said the
Spook. 'Previously a life's been taken. Why should it
be different this time – tell me that!'

'There's an invitation for one of the delegation to
come forward in combat,' said Mam. 'The rules aren't
completely clear but victory for the delegation's
champion means that the life of the donor is no longer
forfeit.'

'Has the delegation's champion ever won?' the
Spook persisted.

'Usually there's nobody brave and strong enough to
volunteer. This time our champion will be Grimalkin.'

'And what if she loses?' Arkwright asked, speaking
up for the first time.

'I will win,' said Grimalkin calmly, 'so the question
needn't be answered.'

'That's not good enough!' he persisted. 'You don't
know what you might face inside that citadel. Maybe
some daemon; some dark entity that can't be defeated
by a mortal.'

Grimalkin smiled grimly, parting her lips to show
her sharp pointed teeth. 'If flesh clothes its bones, I will
cut it. If it breathes, I will stop its breath. Otherwise' –
she shrugged – 'we will all die . . .'

Mam sighed and then finally answered Arkwright's
question. 'If Grimalkin loses, the lives of all the
delegation are immediately forfeit, and our main
attack will fail. Every one of our party will be slain,
along with the inhabitants of Kalambaka and the
monks. Then, seven years from now, the Ordeen will
be free to use her portal to materialize anywhere she
pleases . . .'

For a while after that nobody spoke. The enormity of
what we faced and the disaster that would follow our
defeat were awful to contemplate. It was the ex-soldier,
Bill Arkwright, who shook us from our stupor.

'Let's assume that Grimalkin succeeds,' he began.
'As far as the approach itself is concerned, I've discussed
the deployment of the mercenaries with their
leaders. There should be no problem in keeping the
maenads at a distance. But what about the actual
attack? How are the rest of us to get into the Ord?'

'There's only one entry point that would give our
attack any real chance of success,' Mam explained.
'Fifty paces to the left of the main gate, high on the
wall, is a huge gargoyle. It's a skull, with horns like a
stag's antlers branching from its forehead. Beneath it is
a tunnel leading to the inner courtyard of the Ord. That
tunnel is the route into the Ord taken by the delegation
– it's the easiest way into the citadel. The Pendle
witches will attack first. Soon afterwards, our
mercenaries should be able to ride through and lay
siege to the inner defences.'

'What if it's too heavily defended?' Arkwright
asked.

'That's a chance we'll have to take. If we attack soon
enough, all should be well. As we know, servants of
the Ordeen who receive the delegation awake as soon
as the Ord has cooled. But they will be distracted by
the delegation and hopefully slain by the Pendle
witches soon after Tom's blood has been drunk. That's
what I hope for anyway. As for the rest of her servants,
it is hours before they are fully alert. We must reach
the Ordeen and slay her before she regains her
strength.'

'How will those on the outside know that the
delegation has completed its work?' Arkwright asked.

'Grimalkin will use a mirror,' Mam told him.

I saw the Spook's face tighten but he said nothing.

'Once we're inside the Ord, do we know where to
find the Ordeen?' I asked.

Even before she shook her head, I could tell by
Mam's face that she didn't know. 'We assume she will
be somewhere away from the main entrances that is
easy to defend. It seems likely she will be sleeping at
the top of one of the three towers, but there is also a
domed structure beyond them. Once inside the inner
citadel, we should be able to search out the Ordeen,
though we will still have to contend with denizens of
the dark.'

For a long time after hearing those grim words,
nobody spoke. It seemed to me that we had very little
hope of success, and I'm sure we all shared that view,
perhaps even Mam. Then I started to think about the
delegation. Would Mam be part of it?

'The delegation . . . who's going with me, Mam?'

'Grimalkin, Seilenos and ten more of my escort.

There'll be great danger and not all of you will come
back. I only wish that I could go with you and share
those perils, but the Ordeen and her servants know me
as their enemy. I fear I'd be recognized immediately
and our plan would fail. However, I've told Grimalkin
all I know about the likely dangers. For example, you'll
come upon a table heaped with food and wine – but
you should neither eat nor drink. That's important.'

'Is the food poisoned?' I asked.

'Not poisoned. Enchanted. It's charged with dark
magic. So beware,' Mam warned, her voice hardly
more than a whisper. 'Touch neither food nor drink.
Those who eat the food of the Ordeen can never go
home . . .'

'If Tom's going into danger, then I want to go too!'
Alice cried out, speaking for the first time.

Mam shook her head. 'Your place will be by my side,
Alice.'

'No, that ain't good enough!' she said, springing to
her feet. 'I have to be with Tom.'

'You stay away from him, girl,' said the Spook.

'Stay away? He'd be dead if it weren't for me – and
you all know it.'

Mam shook her head. 'Sit down!' she commanded.

'Ain't going to sit down until you give me what I
want!' Alice retorted, almost spitting out the words.
'You owe me this! And there are things even
you
don't
know yet!'

Mam came to her feet to face Alice, anger in her face.
At that moment the tent canvas began to flap. It had
been a calm evening, but now a wind was getting up.
Moments later, it was gusting furiously, threatening to
tear the fabric from its supporting poles.

Mam led the way outside and looked up at the sky.
'It begins,' she said, pointing towards the horizon.
'That's the first of the portents. The Ordeen is
preparing to move through the portal.'

A gale was blowing strongly from the south, and on
that horizon there was an unmistakable yellow tint to
the sky. It looked like a big storm was brewing. This
was the first of the signs. Mam was sure of it. So we
made our preparations: we would start our journey
at dawn.

It was a restless night, disturbed by animals fleeing
from the south. At one point our camp was invaded by
a pack of scampering, squealing rats. Birds shrieked
with panic as they flapped their way north into the
darkness.

About an hour before dawn, unable to sleep, I
stepped outside to stretch my legs. Seilenos stood
there, looking up at the sky. He saw me and came
across, shaking his head.

'Well, young spook, we win or die this day. A
dangerous land, this. Land of many mysteries too.
Much danger ahead. You stay close to me and be all
right. Seilenos, he know what to do. Ask me anything.
I explain. Lamias and elementals I know all about. I
will teach you . . .'

I remembered the mysterious sounds in the tunnel
before the roof came down. I was curious to know
what had been responsible. 'After the attack on the
camp, Alice and I hid in a cave and had to fight off
some maenads, but there was something else – strange
tapping noises all around us. Then there was a rock fall
that nearly killed us.'

'Tapping? What kind, this tapping? Fast or slow?'

'It started slow but then got much faster. It had a sort
of rhythm to it and built to a crescendo so that the
rocks fell, nearly killing us.'

'Lucky to escape with your lives, young spook.
Dangerous elementals, those. Live in caves and called
tappers
. Try to drive humans away. First use fear.
Frightful tapping sounds. Next bring down big rocks
and try to crush you. When hear tappers – run fast!'

That was probably good advice, but we'd been faced
with dangerous maenads and were forced to stand and
fight. Seilenos patted me on the shoulder and headed
for one of the fires where breakfast was being
prepared. I stayed where I was, waiting for the sun
to rise.

Not that I saw it – for at dawn the sky was filled with
a yellow haze. The Spook told me we needed to fast in
order to prepare to face the dark, so we didn't eat
breakfast. Even Bill Arkwright, never one to go for
long without food, confined himself to one thin slice of
bread, but Seilenos ate his fill, grinning and shaking
his head when he saw that we'd left our plates of lamb
and boar untouched.

'Eat up! You need strength. Who knows when we eat
again?'

'As I told you, we do things differently in the
County – and for good reason,' growled the Spook.
'I'm about to face what might well be the greatest
danger from the dark that I've encountered in all the
years I've been practising my trade. I want to be
fully prepared, not so full of food than I can hardly
think!'

Seilenos just laughed again and continued to stuff
large slices of meat into his mouth, washed down with
red wine.

As we prepared to head south, Alice joined me, a
little smile lighting her face.

'Your mam's changed her mind, Tom,' she said. 'I'm
to be part of the delegation after all.'

'You sure you want to do this, Alice? Wouldn't you
be safer with Mam? I don't want anything to happen
to you.'