Acolyte (The Wildermoor Apocalypse Book 1) (8 page)

Despite their lack of eyes they seemed to stare back at Laing. Uniformly they began to part in the middle, separating to stand in two groups.  From between them came the largest figure of all, standing over seven feet tall.  As the breeze blew through the avenue Laing noticed the shroud that covered the main figure fluttering in the wind.  The face could not be seen from under the heavy black hood but he could just make out two flaming red eyes staring back at him.  After exchanging initial welcoming glances at each other the shadows surrounded their leader and sunk to their knees bowing to this man, this creature. The Reaper then bowed his own head towards Laing from the other side of the window.

Father Archibald had been right and the corners of Laing’s mouth curled into a wicked smile.

The feeling of power was immeasurable.

Chapter Thirteen

February 18
th
1684

The remaining few hours of the night was interspersed with serious planning and long silences.  There was much to discuss but also time required for reflection for each of the three men.  Ewan was still feeling the effects of an intense day’s journey back across Wildermoor to the Franklin estate.  His back and legs were fraught with pain, for he had not dared stop to rest even for a minute for fear of not being able to find his way back again through the snow-covered clearings.

Edward was torn between elation from having his son back safely and fear for Franklin that he would not survive the strain the search had already put upon him. The mission across the moor would be arduous searching for more obscure clues that may have already been snubbed out forever.  Edward was concerned for his son also.  He could sense that there was something troubling him, and it was rare for Ewan not to share his thoughts with his father.  Their relationship had been built on a mutual need for support from one another.

Franklin sat in thought staring into the frantic embers flickering from the fireplace.  He could see shadows dancing in the fire. This time he could clearly make out the perfectly angelic face of Evelyn, with her smile that would melt the coldest hearts.  She was still out there.  He had known it all along.  He felt a tightening in his chest spreading down his left arm.  He breathed in sharply and silently, and held the breath for a few seconds.  After another fleeting shock of pain it passed.  He took another sip from his freshly brewed tea savouring the warmth it provided.

Edward decided not to disturb Franklin again and left him to his thoughts as he crossed the room and joined Ewan in the storage room located at the back of the cottage.  Ewan was busy loading their packs with provisions – strips of dried meat and bread that would provide them with the strength they would need, canteens of water for hydration and measures of whiskey to take away the pain when they finally managed to rest.

‘I don’t think Franklin will benefit from any more of that,’ Edward said signalling towards the whiskey bottle.

Ewan smiled wryly knowing Franklin’s demons still haunted him.

‘I think we can afford the poor man some respite for what he is about to go through,’ he told his father.

Sensing again an air of secrecy around Ewan, Edward decided he needed to eke whatever was haunting his son out into the open before embarking on another expedition.

‘What are our chances?’ he asked, hoping that his directness would win favour.

Ewan stopped pouring the water into the canteens hesitating to answer, the colour suddenly draining from his cheeks.  He did not meet his father’s gaze.

‘I need to know, for all of our sakes,’ Edward pressed further knowing he was getting closer.  ‘Four days removed from this place does not make a man a good liar.’

‘I have no idea whom or what we are dealing with,’ said Ewan finally. ‘That’s what is scaring me.’

Edward noticed a tremble in Ewan’s voice and for the first time he saw fear in his son.  He was fiercely proud of all of his boys but most of all Ewan.  He was born into the world a fighter, along with his twin sister Katrina – less than an hour older than him. He never gave in to the same infection that eventually took his mother’s life. But Edward could never understand why Ewan had decided not to fight for his country as his siblings did.  He was a home bird and the one Edward could rely on.

Ewan’s elder brothers Henry and James had both given their lives in King Charles’ war with Holland during 1672, almost twelve years previous.  Grief was what had strengthened the bond between Ewan and his father, as well as Edward and Franklin.  The recent years had been solely focused on rebuilding their respective families.

Ewan had always carried a flame for Evelyn.  It was no secret.  Edward and Franklin had spent many nights in The Weary Traveller planning for the future, for Ewan to come good on the childhood promise he had made Evelyn that one day she would be his wife, uniting the two families, restoring her father’s plantation back to its former glory and finally bringing their fortunes together.

It was with heavy heart that Edward listened to his own boy soldier admitting having fear and losing faith.

‘Are we in danger?’ Edward asked gravely. Ewan solemnly bowed his head.

‘Why in God’s name do you come back and give the man hope?’

‘I wanted to bring him closure, not hope. I didn’t think for one moment he would want to risk his own life out there on a whim of one vague sign of her existence.’

‘The man has nothing left. That girl is his life,’ Edward saw fit to instil reality back into his son’s thinking. ‘How did you think he would react?’

‘I loved her too, Dad.  But after what I have seen I have had to accept that this time our efforts were in vain.’  It pained Ewan to hear him speak like that.  He had kept himself alive out on the plains for days clinging to every shred of hope that he would find Evelyn alive again, much the same as her father did.

Edward one again saw the flicker of sorrow and dread in his son’s face.

‘What happened out there?’ Edward pleaded. ‘You must tell me.’

‘That which I cannot explain,’ Ewan replied cryptically.

‘Well you better try, my boy. If you cannot think rationally by yourself, I will have to step in and think for you, to save us all.’

Ewan sank into the chair at the small workbench in the storeroom where Franklin used to package up his crops for trips across Wildermoor to the market.  It had not been used for months, but still showed evidence of the once rich earth that had helped to build the James Empire all those years ago.

Ewan proceeded to detail his search party’s movements, which started four days ago, the night of Evelyn’s disappearance.  Edward had tasked him to follow the route in which Franklin had heard Evelyn’s final screams for help and seen the brief flash of white from her nightgown.  They travelled west through the woods that bordered Tewke’s Range with the barren stretch of Wildermoor, across the River Wilde at the shallowest point and then after a ten mile trek east they re-joined the trail.

On the second night they found themselves entering the thick growth of the next borderland, the woods which formed the entrance to Harper Falls.  Ewan travelled with three other riders, which he had handpicked himself.  They had ridden tirelessly to this point, but their steeds could not travel another mile before nightfall, so they set up camp at the riverside to ensure the horses had a steady supply of water.

‘I awoke to find it was deep into the night but I could no longer hear the breathing of the others, or the chatter between the horses as they grazed and rested,’ Ewan recalled.  ‘My eyes would not allow me enough time to even consider my predicament before they closed again. I rose with the dawn’s first light, left my horse to rest a little longer and ventured back into the woods.  What I found in less than half a mile would change everything and send me back home.’

‘You didn’t find the others?’ his father pressed.

‘I did…in some respect.’

Edward did not need words to encourage Ewan to elaborate. His eyes bore a hole in him hotter than any branding iron.

‘I smelt it before I saw it; a smell of rotten brisket, but fresh.  It was as if I could feel the moist touch of the blood in the air.  As I moved forward it became stronger, but I could not tell the source. Then I heard it, as the ground beneath my boot changed from the crunching of dead leaves to a squelch.  I looked down and saw a mass. That’s the best way I can describe it.  Red with blood, black with dirt from the ground, tinged with pink. I could finally make out shards within it.  Torn flesh and shattered bone.’

‘An animal? A deer maybe falling foul of a flock of buzzards?’ Ewan shook his head grimly and continued.

‘As unrecognisable as it was, I knew it was human,’ Ewan said, his voice starting to break as his father watched a tear form and fall onto the bench.  ‘Nothing left but mangled remains of the torso.  It was evil, Father. Pure evil.’

Edward sat in silence, not wanting to admit that he had no idea how to deal with what he had heard, not bearing to think how Ewan had managed to bottle this up showing no hint of the horrors he had seen.

‘How could you possibly tell it was human?’

‘Within the mass were shreds of cloth, from a tunic or nightgown.  The state of the remains was not the work of man. The cloth was not from the killer itself. So I ran, for what seemed like hours and miles.  I heard a growl from deeper in the forest, which made my heart stop.  As I tried to retrace my steps the growl grew louder.  I looked behind me, quick enough to see a flash of green followed by another ungodly sound.  As I turned to run I tripped, stumbled and fell. I could see nothing, hear nothing but the crack of branches and the scrape of my skin against the rough stones, but I knew I was falling. I awoke in the darkness, I don’t know how much later.  My head pounded and my body ached. I could feel the trickle of blood underneath my tunic,” Ewan said, lifting up his shirt to show his father the evidence; an angry graze on his skin, leading to a large gash across his stomach.  The blood had dried but the wound was far from healed.

‘Not far from there, there was a glint in amongst the mud and fallen leaves; Evelyn’s locket.’

‘Where?’

Ewan looked up and met his father’s eyes at last.

‘At the opening to a cave within the forest walls.  Or what I thought were the forest walls.’

‘Where were you?  Can you remember what you saw?’

‘I don’t know.  As I looked up, I could barely make out the light shining though the tops of the trees, which appeared as though they stood a few hundred feet tall.’

‘No tree around here grows that tall, not that is known to any man familiar with Wildermoor at least.’

Ewan shook his head in agreement.

‘I know where you were,’ Edward told him.  ‘But it’d be impossible for you to be sitting before me now if that were true.  You are describing the bottom of Devil’s Pit.’

‘Devil’s Pit?’ asked Ewan, ‘Where is that?’

‘You’re asking me? You were there yourself!’ Edward reasoned.

‘I mean why is it called that?’

‘The residents of Harper Falls bestowed the name upon it,’ answered a third voice.  Franklin was now standing in the entrance to the storage room having witnessed much of the exchange between the Childs. He was struggling to hold himself together.

Edward and Ewan startled at the sound of his voice, guilty for discussing this behind his back.  Neither stood for betrayal, and did not know how to react when feeling accused of it.

‘Mr. James, I’m so sorry,’ Ewan replied offering him his seat and his arms for solace. But Franklin waved him away and walked further into the room.

‘Over twenty years ago, Reverend Joseph Yeo lost his position in the clergy by refusing to acknowledge and commit to the new religious regime created by the new Parliament,’ Franklin continued, ‘and was exiled for his beliefs.  He started conducting secret meetings for worship and blessings hidden from the authorities.  The King ordered a reward be paid to anyone who offered up the whereabouts of such rebels and Yeo’s time was running out.  One of the villagers reported it but the army could not find Yeo or his followers. After the search had ended Yeo was pronounced dead but that’s when
they
started disappearing.’

‘Who?’ Asked Ewan, looking at his father whose stare was fixed to the floor.  He must have known all about this.

‘The villagers. The women mostly. The children were next.  Nobody knew where they went or who took them but many believed the Puritans were behind it, avenging Yeo’s death. There were other reports however that more sinister forces were afoot and that the Puritans had summoned evil itself from the Pit.’

Franklin walked to the window and stared out at what was left of his land, his mind making the shadows of the past dance again.  He could see Evelyn running gaily through the fields, the crops’ grown up to her shoulders.  He had been stood on the veranda, Christina-Rose next to him, his arm clutching her waist.  Now the field was frozen hard from the winter and flat, no green to suggest any life at all.

‘All the villagers fled Harper Falls within days and reports are that it has been deserted ever since. Whoever or whatever remains you found, were either one of your party…’ he paused steadying himself before continuing, ‘or my daughter.’

‘Frank, don’t talk like that,’ Edward asked of him, but he could see that the man in front of him was one who was at the end of his faith, left with little amount of dwindling hope.

‘Dawn is here,’ Franklin said, ignoring the plea.  ‘We must go.’

All three rode out of Bradley’s Range in silence, as the morning sun began to slowly eat away at the frosted ground.