The Flesh Eaters (21 page)

For the first time, the Sheriff notices their wounds and torn clothing. “Well, what happened? Make it quick, and it had better be good. What are these famous monsters of yours?”

Unsettled, Aird does not know how to explain. “They are not really monsters. They are men... they have the form of men... but they seem to be more like animals.” He tails off, realizing this sounds ridiculous.

The Sheriff rolls his eyes.

“Let me tell the story from the beginning,” Aird says. “We were returning from the fair near Eastbury, along the Coast Road. When we reached the deserted stretch near the cliffs, we heard a scream and ran to see what was happening. We came around a bend in the road—and then saw it. My God! I will never forget that sight”

“What sight? What did you see?” Despite himself, the Sheriff is affected by Aird’s intensity.

“We saw a lot of people... horrible looking, wild people. Long, long hair, very dirty. And their eyes... those terrible eyes! They were many—about twenty, I guess—all ages. Men and women. Boys and girls. Young children. Oh my God!”

“Come on, man! Get on with it. What were they doing?”

“The older ones had surrounded that man there.” Aird points to Tom who sits unblinking, unmoving. “They had their knives raised and were about to kill him. On the ground directly before us was the body of a woman—this man’s wife. She was dead, covered in blood. The children—the young children, some very small—were crowded around her. They... were eating her flesh.”

The Sheriff recoils. “They were what?”

“They were eating her. Feeding off her like a pack of wild dogs. Their hands and their mouths were all red. Blood dripped from their chins as they gnawed at her. My God, my God!”

The Sheriff gets hold of himself. “Do you expect me to believe this?”

“Look!”

Aird tugs away the blanket that covers the body of the woman in the back of the wagon. The Sheriff stares at the mangled corpse. The color drains from his face; he is unable to move or speak.

The inn boy leans forward on the shed roof in an effort to miss none of Aird’s fascinating tale. To see the body, he stretches out even farther and falls from his perch, just missing the Sheriff, who leaps up in fright, smashes his knee against the side of the wagon and then, cursing as he hops about on one leg, puts his foot in a bucket or slops that has been left in the middle of the yard.

The Sheriff at last extracts himself from the bucket. Mustering his dignity, he limps over to the cart. The sight of the mutilated corpse causes his stomach to turn over.

“Cover that up,” he says in a strangled voice.

Aird obliges. Without sarcasm, he asks quietly, “Do you still wish to return to your dinner?”

The Sheriff gags. “I may never eat again, damn you.” He gestures toward the covered body. “Children did that?”

Aird nods. “Do you believe us now?”

The Sheriff does not answer, and Clarke steps forward. “When they saw us, they ran into the woods. We went after them, but they got away.”

“We caught a couple of them,” Douglas says, “but they fought like wild animals and escaped. A little child—a girl—nearly bit off my thumb.” He waves his mangled hand in the Sheriff’s face. “The worst part was that she seemed to enjoy doing it.” He shakes his head, recalling the girl’s expression as she tasted his blood. “Just like an animal.”

The Sheriff mumbles to himself. “Man-eaters. Cannibals. A cannibal family. Why me?” He raises his eyes heavenward. “What have I done to deserve this?”

Aird speaks sharply. “What are you going to do?”

“Me?” The Sheriff is surprised at the question. “Nothing. If you think I’m going to become some cannibal’s next meal, think again.”

“But you can’t just do nothing,” Whyte says.

“Why not?” the Sheriff says with all sincerity. The incredulous looks that greet this question make him reconsider. His eyes scrunch up, his brow furrows. Then, suddenly, he beams. “I know! We’ll tell the King. Of course! Let him worry about this.”

The men nod their agreement, and relief washes over the Sheriff. The King cannot help but be impressed by the brave Sheriff who has solved the great mystery. Thoughts of bloodthirsty cannibals vanish, and the Sheriff pictures himself receiving a high royal appointment.
 

In a damp, chilly, but elegantly decorated chamber of his castle, King James I of Scotland is holding forth on one of his favorite topics—himself. His attentive audience includes several of his chief counselors, the Bishop, a foreign emissary or two, and a small army of flatterers, fawners, and toadies.

Though the King is a bit pompous, and a bit too fond of his own voice, he is not a fool. His long stay as a “guest” of the English has given him considerable experience with political intrigue and a valuable education in statecraft and human nature. He knows what he wants and how to get it, and he sincerely desires to improve the condition of his nation. The fact that he has already done much in this regard is his present topic.

“...and before I returned to take my rightful place here, outlaws and bandits flourished. Law and order did not exist. Travelers on the road—even people in their homes—were not safe. And now? Now that I have the throne, peace and prosperity are again found in our beloved kingdom.”

The King pauses to allow his listeners to offer praise. When they have done so, he continues. “Of course, there are still minor problems to be dealt with—such as the unsolved disappearances that plague this area.”

“A small matter, my lord, and of no consequence,” the Bishop says in his oiliest and most ingratiating manner.

“Of no consequence?” The King is glad of a chance to goad the Bishop, whom he regards as one of the minor problems with which he must deal. “Is it of no consequence that the countryside is depopulated, that travelers do not go on the roads, that trade suffers? Bishop, it is of great consequence!”

“Aye, my lord.” The Bishop smiles weakly.

“And did I not hear that you attempted to use the power of the Church to solve the mystery?”

“Aye, my lord.” The smile is weaker still.

“To no effect?”

“Aye, my lord.” The smile is gone.

An attendant enters, looking very uncomfortable. “The Sheriff and several townspeople are here, my lord. They wish to see you.”

“Tell them to return later. I am engaged.”

“I told them, but they say it is urgent, my lord. They seem very agitated.”

“About what?”

“I could not properly understand, my lord. They kept referring to ‘the monster’ of the Coast Road.”

“The monster of the Coast Road, eh? This might be amusing. Show them in.”

As the attendant backs out, the King laughs. “Monsters, indeed! What ignorant yokels these must be.”

The Sheriff enters with Aird and Whyte, all of them quite flustered at being in the royal presence. They bow, and then the Sheriff moves forward, still limping slightly from his injured knee.

“Your Majesty, I am your faithful servant, the Sheriff of—”

“Sheriff, you are well known. Your reputation has preceded you.”

“Your Majesty, you flatter me.”

“Not at all,” the King says dryly. “Your exploits are frequently discussed.”

The Sheriff, never very alert to shades of meaning, smiles broadly. “I have tried to be a loyal servant to Your Majesty. I do not like to boast, Your Highness, being by nature a modest man”—he swells like a rooster about to salute the dawn—”but if I may say so, I believe that I am one of the best—”

“Quite. Quite so, Sheriff. You are limping. Have you injured yourself?”

The Sheriff blushes. “A small matter, Your Majesty. Received in the line of duty, and consequently of no consequence.” That doesn’t sound right, he thinks, but he pushes ahead. “Now as I was saying, I—”

“What is this urgent matter that brings you here?”

The Sheriff is momentarily at a loss, and then he remembers why he has come. “I am pleased to inform Your Highness that I have solved the mystery of these disappearances.”

He pauses, expecting immediate praise, but the King says merely, “Again?”

“Pardon me?”

“Oh, nothing. Most interesting. What is the solution?”

“You may know, Your Majesty, that I have worked diligently for many years to ensure that law and order reign in this country. I have given much labor and much thought to this vexing problem. Long days alone in the wilderness have I spent—”

“Quite. Quite,” the King says curtly. ‘The solution?”

“What? Oh, the solution.”

“Aye. Can you tell it in two or three words?”

The Sheriff thinks hard, moving his lips. “... I can, Your Majesty.”

After a long pause, the King says, “Well?”

“Oh... a cannibal family... three words... a cannibal family.”

“I see. A most novel solution. Tell me, how have you arrived at this conclusion? Did you escape from their stewpot?”

“No, I—”

“Did you see them indulging their appetites?”

“No, I—”

“Then this is just another fantastic invention designed to hide your own inability. Thank you, Sheriff. It has been most diverting. Now if you will leave us, there are affairs of state to be considered.”

The King turns his back. The Sheriff stands open-mouthed, his vision of being honored fading rapidly.

Aird steps forward. ““Excuse me, Your Majesty.”

“What is it? The jest will become tedious if it is protracted.”

“Begging your pardon, Your Majesty, but what the Sheriff says is true. We have seen them.”

“
You
have seen them?”

“Aye, Your Majesty,” Whyte says. “To our horror, we have seen them. They had killed a woman and were about to kill her husband. The children were eating the woman’s flesh.”

“You saw this?”

Aird and Whyte nod solemnly.

“If this is not the truth, you will live to regret it.”

“It is the truth, Your Majesty,” Aird says.

“And we already regret having seen it,” Whyte adds.

“Then perhaps you had better tell the story from the beginning.”

The Sheriff jumps in. “It started on the Coast Road—”

“You were not there, Sheriff.” The King fixes him with a glare. “Kindly let those that were speak for themselves.”

Aird’s voice falters as he tells the story. At first the King is skeptical; he interrupts frequently and asks many questions. By the time Aird finishes, however, the King is truly horrified.

“You have told me only the truth? You have not exaggerated in any way?”

“No, Your Majesty,” Aird says. “You can examine the body of the woman for yourself.”

“That will not be necessary,” the King says hastily. Then he mutters “astonishing” and “unbelievable” several times, and it appears that for once he has been struck almost speechless. However, not even the thought of cannibals can long deter a natural orator, and the King is soon addressing the room at large, becoming more and more pleased with the sound of his own voice as he goes on.

“We have heard travelers’ tales of strange things in far-off lands, but never anything like this. This is not quite thirty miles away, and we are a Christian country in the fifteenth century of Our Lord. We are a nation of civilized men, hot barbaric savages. These... these creatures... must not be permitted to continue—no more than we would allow a pack of wolves to attack our flocks. They are vultures preying upon the helpless. They are... are...” The King’s hand flutters as though he were trying to pick words out of the air. “We must send an army to search out and destroy this evil.” He hesitates. “But wait! I myself will lead that army. That will show the people that their King is their protector!”

“Excellent! Excellent, my Lord,” the Bishop says in his most smarmy manner. “Such a gesture will surely reassure the people in the face of this outrage and abomination.”

A cold smile crosses the King’s face. “I am glad you feel that way, because you will accompany me on this endeavor.”

“I, my Lord?” the Bishop croaks.

“You, Bishop. This is just as much an attack upon the Church as upon the Crown. Together we will prove that Church and Crown are united against a common enemy.”

“But, my Lord—”

“No buts. I am decided upon this.”

The Bishop can only shake his head and submit.

The King gives orders for arrangements to be made for the army to depart promptly. Then he turns to leave the room, and the Sheriff’s body sags with relief.

The King looks back. “Oh, Sheriff...”

“Your Majesty?” The Sheriff’s voice squeaks with dread.

“You will, of course, accompany the expedition.”

“Your Majesty, it is my fondest wish to join you on this important adventure. Unfortunately, circumstances and my other duties make this impossible. But I must try to live with my disappointment.”

The King smiles. “Sheriff, you are indeed fortunate today. As your monarch, it is within my power to grant you your fondest wish. You will accompany us.”