For Love of Evil (9 page)

If only he could have shared it with Jolie!

A year passed. Parry practiced no magic, protecting himself from discovery by the searching sorcerer. He sang with the friars, and their group nourished. They traveled from town to town, singing and preaching the glory of God and begging amls. Parry had reservations about the glory of God, because he was certain that no just God would have allowed a crusade in His name to wreak the kind of havoc it had in southern France, or to kill as perfect a creature as Jolie. But he preached the word too, for to do otherwise would have made him suspect. The sentiments were easy enough to cover: that God in His greatness deplored the conditions of the world, and required a return to the fundamental values of generosity and forgiveness.

But a strange thing happened as time passed. Parry discovered that his belief began to follow his words. Generosity was good, forgiveness was good, and the ways of the Lord might be strange at times, but perhaps did have merit. He could not accept the loss of Jolie, but he was coming to accept the notion that his present life might be doing more good in the world than his past one. Before, he had helped the folk of a single village, for suitable fees; now he helped the folk of the entire nation to see the error of their ways, so like his own of prior times. Yet the evil of the deaths of his father the Sorcerer, and Jolie, and the villain woman who had helped him could not be justified by this. Had God simply come to him and asked him to become an impoverished friar, he would have done so; it had not been necessary to have good folk murdered. This was not the way of the kind of God he could accept.

Where, then, had the evil originated? Parry thought about that increasingly, as the cutting edge of his grief abated and left his mind free for thought. He considered and reconsidered every aspect of it, and slowly came to the conclusion that only one entity could be responsible. That was Lucifer, the figure of evil. Lucifer must have seen the advantage in turmoil and warfare, so had generated a situation that brought war to southern France. The crusade, waged in the name of God, had actually to be the work of the Lord of Evil.

This was a phenomenal revelation, and one he dared not publicize. He had trouble, initially, believing it himself. How could God tolerate such an inversion?

The answer had to be that God was not paying proper attention. God was starting wormy projects, but Lucifer was perverting them almost as fast as they developed, so that in the end the gain was Lucifer's. Thus the worthy crusade became unworthy almost as it formed, and Parry's grief was only a tiny part of the result.

Another strange thing happened in this period. The drop of blood on Parry's wrist continued to heat, seeming to possess a kind of life of its own. Finally Parry realized that it might be Jolie's spirit trying to communicate with him. "Jolie," he said. "Come to me!" That was all it took. Her ghost rose from the blood and hovered before him, vague and wavering, but definitely present. Thanatos had spoken truly; she was with him, in the blood!

The ghost could not speak or act. But as time passed, he encouraged it, speaking to it, loving it as the remnant of his wife. Gradually it learned to manage, until it was able to assume her living form. Bit by bit, she learned to talk, not verbally but by sending her thoughts to his mind as if in speech. Progress was slow, so that later he could not remember when the stages of her renewed presence occurred. But he had his wife again!

But his grief for her remained. This was the mere shade of Jolie, and could never match the living presence of yore. Still, it was a great improvement, and it enabled him to deal with his grief more effectively, and to focus instead on what he intended to do about his vengeance. He still did not dare to practice magic himself, but he continued to rehearse the spells in his mind, perfecting them for the time when he could safely practice sorcery again.

That year a former Italian soldier, who had renounced his ways and become devout, set out to preach. He was Giovanni di Bemardone, and when he took his small band of followers to Rome, he was permitted to form a band of friars. Now his mission was spreading to other countries, and a group came to France. The originator called his mother the Lady Poverty, and his father the Lord Sun, and his values seemed much like those of the Brotherhood Parry associated with. They called themselves the Franciscans, because of Giovanni's father's travels in France.

The local friars considered, and decided to join the Franciscans. In this manner they achieved the approval of the Church. They continued their singing and preaching much as before, but now their influence was greater because of that approval.

In 1213 Simon de Montfort, the leader of the crusade, won a victory at Muret that made the fate of the Albigenses certain. Parry felt private anguish, but said nothing. As long as the crusade continued, he had to remain in hiding.

In 1214 King Philip of Prance won the battle of Bouvines, and established the French monarchy as dominant in Europe. Parry continued singing, preaching and thinking. In 1216 Dominic Guzman, of Castile, who had been preaching to the Albigensians, was given a house for his growing band. Parry attended, providing moral support as a representative of the Franciscans. The Dominicans, officially the Order of Preachers, became known as the Black Friars, because of their black mantle over the white habit. They were more interested in the philosophical aspects of evil than were the Franciscans, who simply preached the virtues of poverty and humility. In 1221 Dominic died. The Franciscans held an assembly, becoming more formally organized. Parry, as a member in excellent standing, could have stepped into higher office. But his thinking about Lucifer caused him to do something others might have deemed foolish: he decided to leave the Franciscans and join the Dominicans, because they seemed to be orienting more specifically on the problem of evil.

Parry had never forgotten the injury Lucifer had done him. Now he was ready to begin moving more directly against the Lord of Evil. Lucifer had to be made to pay. But first it was necessary to study the ways of evil, to ascertain exactly how Lucifer operated. Once the enemy was truly known, he would be vulnerable. Parry intended to be there for the counterstrike against the Kingdom of Evil.

Parry had survived more than a score of years after the loss of his father and Jolie. But he had a secret: the soul of Jolie. She had learned to travel increasing distances from him, and to bring him news of far folk and far places. She could do what he could not: search out the source of the enemy sorcery. The time was coming when he could accomplish his purpose.

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Chapter 4 - INQTJISITION

In 1230 Parry and another friar. Father Service, were dispatched by the Dominicans on what was expected to be a routine case. As it turned out, it was not. For one thing, Jolie had indicated that there was something special about this one. She had been searching for the mysterious sorcerer who had brought them so much mischief in the past, and his aura seemed to be associated. That was enough for Parry; had he not been assigned, he would have petitioned to accompany the friar who was. If he could locate that sorcerer . . .

The local magistrate had arraigned a wealthy lord on the charge of heresy, and sought to confiscate his possessions for distribution to interested parties. This sort of thing was becoming more common, but the action could not be completed without the approval of the Church. Therefore it was necessary for a priest or other appropriate figure to examine the case and make the final decision.

Jolie did not like the routine dispossession of accused persons of their assets, and therefore neither did Parry. He lived ascetically himself, owning nothing, his very clothing technically the property of the Church. But she reminded him that property was a necessary thing for those who existed in the material realm, and fairness in its disposition was essential. Too often, folk were deprived on trumped-up charges so that their accusers could benefit. Something like that had happened to Jolie's own family.

Father Service, in contrast, tended to bear down hard on any accused, and to exact the maximum penalty. He had no villain- girl conscience to ameliorate his dedication to what he knew was right. Parry found that problematical; he did not wish to affront his companion, but he suspected that there was such a thing as being too certain in one's sanctity.

The fact that this particular pair had been selected for this mission was significant, for their attitudes were known. That meant that the Dominicans suspected that this was an invalid case, and depended on the two of them to deal with it appropriately. That Parry intended to do, despite the predilection of his associate.

"You know that people are often condemned on very slender evidence," Parry remarked as they rode their donkeys, starting what he knew would be an argument. But the long, slow ride was dull, and this would enliven it slightly.

"Better that than to risk the proliferation of heresy," Father Service said piously.

"Pompous ass!" Jolie exclaimed.

The friar turned his head. "What?"

"My mount is becoming willful," Parry said. Had Father Service actually heard Jolie's remark? He hesitated to inquire. As far as he knew, he was the only one who could perceive her, but he was not sure whether that was because he was specially attuned, or merely because she manifested only to those she chose. There were intriguing mysteries about her, in death as there had been in life.

They arrived at the local monastery, and began the tedious process of reviewing the evidence. It was the usual assemblage of rumor, hearsay and speculation. He wondered whether there was any connection between the terms hearsay and heresy. His mind drifted, speculating on that. What an indictment of the system that could be! Suppose that all heresy turned out to be illusory?

"Where there's smoke, there's fire," Father Service said, satisfied.

"The idiot!" Jolie snorted. "You have to do better than this. Parry!"

Parry sighed. He knew that the worst smoke sometimes occurred after the fire had been doused. "I shall have to interview the witnesses directly," he said.

"Why?" Father Service asked. "We have their depositions. This many witnesses cannot be wrong."

"I don't care if there are a thousand ignorant depositions!" Jolie fumed. "These aren't grounds to condemn anyone!"

"We wouldn't want to leave any possible grounds for later criticism," Parry said smoothly. "It is better to nail it down absolutely. I believe I can develop firmer testimony."

Father Service blew out his cheeks. "Very well. Father Grief, if you insist."

"This one," Jolie said, pointing to one of the depositions. "I have a feeling about her."

Parry picked up the document. "Pabiola," he read. "Her testimony seems to be crucial."

"So it seems," Father Service agreed. "That alone is sufficient to seal the case."

"Then we are agreed: she must be interviewed."

Father Service opened then closed his mouth. He had no such intention, but was now in an awkward position to deny it. They reviewed other documents. "It appears that Lord Bofort stands to gain somewhat from this transaction," Parry remarked. "His lands are adjacent to those of the accused. I begin to suspect a motive." Indeed, Jolie was growing excited; she suspected Lord Bofort.

"Such suspicion is inappropriate to men of God," Father Service protested. "Lord Bofort is not on trial!"

"Perhaps not," Parry agreed. But if he turned out to be the one . . . In due course the woman stood before them. Fabiola was young, no more than seventeen, but looked older. Her hair was bound back by a fillet and hanging loose behind, in the fashion of unmarried girls. Her tunic was in fair condition. She stared at the two men behind the desk with great frightened brown eyes, reminding Parry momentarily of the way Jolie had been when he first summoned her to his house. Even after twenty years, such memories were poignant.

"She's been tortured," Jolie said.

Tortured! Parry wanted to ask for more information on that, but could not speak in the presence of the others. His ability to talk with his dead wife would not have been understood by the men of his order!

"According to this deposition," Father Service said to her, "you have testified that the accused has had communion with devils, and that you have seen this yourself. Is this true?"

"Yes, Father," she said, almost whispering.

"And that when the accused discovered you observing him, he sent one of his devils after you, and the devil caught you and raped you?"

Her pallor faded as she tried to show some color. "Yes, Father." It was a difficult thing for a woman to confess rape, because it reflected on her more than on the rapist.

Father Service turned to Parry. "We have documentation of the rape. She was examined by Lord Bofort's personal physician, who verified it."

"She was raped," Jolie agreed. "But the deposition says nothing about torture."

Parry nodded. "Pabiola, we are not here to add to your burdens," he said gently. "We wish only to ascertain the truth. I am not certain that your deposition covers all of it."

Her eyes widened with something like terror. "Please, Father, I have told all! All! I swear it!" She was eager not to be tortured again, of course.

"I doubt this," Parry said firmly.

"Oh, Father, what is it you wish me to say?" she begged. The significance of this phrasing was not lost on Parry; she was ready to say anything she was directed to say, because her will had been broken.