The Devil in Green (58 page)

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Authors: Mark Chadbourn

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BOOK: The Devil in Green
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Mallory eventually found Daniels waiting outside the chapter house
an hour later. The lauds of the dead was filtering through from the
cathedral.

'Well, thank heavens for that,' Daniels said tartly. 'I thought I was going
to have to send in a search party. Did you enjoy your rest period?'

'I tried to find you. I couldn't get out of the place.' It had taken Mallory a
long time to shake off the effects of what he had seen, and he certainly
didn't feel like raising it again with Daniels.

'This place gives me the creeps.' Daniels looked uncomfortably towards
where the transformed building began. 'It felt as though it was herding me
out of there. I'd be a happy man if I didn't have to go in again.'

Mallory followed his gaze. 'I'll second that. But I bet you any money
that if we want to find out what's happening here, that's exactly where
we'll have to go.'

 

The announcement was made the following day: digging would commence on November die first after plans had been drawn up and
preliminary excavations opened. The haste to begin underlined the
seriousness of their predicament. An uproarious outpouring of relief and
optimism followed. The brothers flooded out of the cathedral into a light
drizzle, eager to believe that the worst was over and they could get back to
their primary mission of rebuilding God's kingdom.

By nine am the rain had become a downpour, the skies so slate-grey
overhead that in the oppressive shadow of the new buildings it almost
seemed like night. Water cascaded from the mouths of gargoyles to gush
noisily on the stone flags, or spouted off the ends of roofs to catch
unawares any brother foolish enough to walk too close to the walls.

Classes continued for most of the knights, excepting the elite Blues
whom Blaine appeared to think no longer needed tuition. They were rarely
seen by the other knights, always busy on some mysterious task Blaine had
set them deep in the sprawling body of the cathedral buildings.

Mallory could barely keep his mind on the studies. Before, it had
seemed irritating; now, it was merely irrelevant. The image of the monk
moving slowly down the stairs played repeatedly in his mind, interspersed
with thoughts of Sophie and a growing acceptance of his deep attraction to
her. The two things pulled him back and forth, darkness and light, fear and
love, combining with a general sense of paralysis at his inability to do
anything productive that might get him out of that place. And that, he had
decided, was what he wanted more than anything else: Sophie with him,
miles between them and Salisbury and damn the consequences. Even his
desire for payback against Blaine and the Church authorities paled beside
it.

He had doubts that he could ever convince her, especially after what had
happened with Gardener, but he had a long-shot idea how he might make
it work.

 

Mallory woke at first light, aching from the pointless, wearying tasks they
were increasingly set. Miller was already sitting up in the thin grey light,
his rough blankets pulled tightly around him against the cold.

'I think something bad's going to happen,' Miller said bluntly.

'To be honest, that's not much of a revelation,' Mallory said sleepily.
'Under siege. The forces of hell at the gates. Food running out. And, I
might add, having to wake up next to you every morning. This is the
definition of bad.'

'No, I think something bad's going to happen
today.'

Mallory rolled over; another few minutes' sleep would be good and
luxuries were few and far between. 'You're just spooked because it's
Hallowe'en.'

'Exactly! It isn't just some stupid kids' holiday any more, Mallory.
Everything now is exactly how we were afraid it would be when we were
children. Those things out there . . . this is their day!'

'Shut up, Miller. We're safe in here. Protected by the Blue Fire,' he
added sardonically. He pulled the blanket over his head. 'Safe as houses till
we starve to death.'

 

Hipgrave pulled Mallory to one side after the herbalism class. He had
appeared a different person since they had returned from their nightmarish excursion, more introspective, somehow.

'Can I have a word?' he said. His eyes darted around, uncomfortable at
being seen with the black sheep.

'What's up?'

'What do
you
think's going on here, Mallory?'

'Why are you asking me?'

'Because you've got a different perspective on things. You know
He floundered.

'An ungodly one,' Mallory said.

Hipgrave nodded, oblivious to the humour. He'd developed a nervous
habit of rubbing the knuckles on the back of his left hand; Mallory could
see that one of them was sore and callouses had started to build up on the
others. 'This whole place .
.
.'He motioned a little too animatedly around
the mysterious architecture.'. . . it's not right. No one seems to realise it's
all
changed ...
But they half-remember . . . They talk about it being a
result of the Glory of God.' He paused. 'But I don't see how it can be. It
doesn't feel right.' He stared off into the middle-distance. 'I can't talk to
Blaine about it.'

'I've got no answers, Hipgrave.'

The captain's eyes held a devastating desperation that suggested life was
slipping away from him. He clutched at Mallory's sleeve. 'If we can sort
this out, Mallory, everything will be all right.' He held on for a second and
then drifted slowly away.

 

'Hipgrave's losing it,' Mallory said baldly. 'Please excuse the complete lack
of sympathy in my voice.'

Miller, Daniels and Gardener followed him across the grassy area that
circumnavigated the sprawling cathedral buildings. It was only five p.m.
and already dark; it seemed to be getting darker significantly earlier every
day. Moonlight cast long, deep shadows all around.

'We gave him a chance to stand with us,' Gardener said. 'But he's too
much of a shit to be decent.'

'Well, aren't you the heart of compassion,' Daniels jibed.

'You weren't so pleasant when he got Blaine to give you another ten laps
on the circuit training.' Gardener lit a roll-up, drawing the smoke in
deeply.

'I think you're all being too hard on him,' Miller ventured. 'Yes, he has
been unpleasant in the past, but he needs us now, and as Christians we
need to give him support . . . extend the hand of friendship.'

'Shut up, Miller,' they all chanted in unison.

They reached the walls and climbed the ladder to the walkway. The
guard greeted them with a curt nod and continued his rounds. 'Hallowe'en
and all's hell,' Mallory called out. He couldn't help a glance towards the
pagan camp. A ruddy glow emanated from burning bonfires as they
celebrated Samhain and the start of their New Year the following day.

'I'm hungry,' Gardener grumbled.

'You're always hungry,' Daniels said. He dropped the large bag he had
been carrying and squatted down to delve into its contents.

'If they cut the servings any more, we'll just be getting bowls of hot
water,' Gardener continued. 'Bloody turnips and swedes. Give me a
bloody big steak, that's what I say.'

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