Time of the Beast (24 page)

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Authors: Geoff Smith

BOOK: Time of the Beast
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The vision was gone, swept away into nothing as finally I knew the horrific truth of it. Cynewulf was not the killer –
and yet he was!
I remembered his pagan beliefs and how he had spoken of his living spirit – his dark
fetch
– his soul’s rage and madness cast out and given form upon the earth. My body jolted as I broke free from the shaman’s spell and looked over at the fearsome figure of Cynewulf as he sat silent and motionless, staring starkly ahead with fixed, unseeing eyes, while his fingers gripped the hilt of his sword until his knuckles grew white. I could not doubt the awful reality that his obsession was now turning into possession. As the demon rose so the man was gone. I turned to look into the sharp grey eyes of the shaman as I gasped out:


It is Cynewulf!
The old warrior. He is in the grip of something monstrous – his terrible nemesis. It lives again in him because in his mind it can never die. He is its pathway into our world – its earthly medium. Long ago a witch foretold it! And we are trapped here while the horror is coming. An outcast spirit… a thing of fury and malignity incarnate!

Truly my words were not spoken to Taeppa, but were only the chaos of my thoughts given voice. I turned away from him as it seemed now I had fallen like the others into a pit of my deepest terrors, my last rational defences torn away by a crashing wave of superstitious dread I could no longer find the strength to deny or disbelieve
.

Yet I clung to the wreckage of my faith. I told myself that only the rites of the Church might serve to defeat and exorcise a malign spirit. But the man who possessed such knowledge and power was now stricken by his own terrible madness. I saw then that I must go to Cadroc and try to make him understand… but it occurred to me suddenly that his ravings had fallen silent. I moved towards him and saw him there, still kneeling inside his circle of torchlight, his body slumped forward and his head bowed in a state of apparent exhaustion and defeat, his stance like a horrible parody of religious obeisance – an act of surrender to the deepening night. Then my heart shook, for I saw what was moving towards him while he cowered and shrank before it as it rose slowly from out of the marshes like a swirling black fog – the formless thing that seemed now to have emerged from the vision in my mind and out into the living world.
It was here among us.


No!
Great God, no!’
Even in my terror I found the power to cry out and distract it away from Cadroc, as I heard him utter desperate sounds in a voice so thick and strained that his words were incoherent. Then I sensed the spirit’s gaze fall upon me, and at once it was moving towards me, charging with silent yet tremendous speed. Wildly I turned to flee, but my muscles froze as I knew there was nowhere to escape, and I stumbled about only to see the face of Cynewulf as he stared beyond me with blank and stupefied eyes, while I looked back hopelessly to see that the horror was almost upon me. And in that instant, from inside the rushing blackness, I saw again its hideous, murderous face as it uttered a hoarse shriek and bared its great jagged teeth, and I realised then that all my wild imaginings were wrong – that in its glowering ferocity it bore no earthly resemblance to Cynewulf or to anything else that might be called human. It was a thing of insane and impossible degradation – a demon from the darkest depths.

I stood defenceless in its path. But at the final moment a figure sprang before me, and the shaman thrust out his staff as he stood to face the terror, yelling out to the others:

‘Rise up! Stir yourselves! The enemy is upon us!’

From within the rippling shadow of the demon’s form there materialised suddenly a giant hand, and I saw that it held a weapon like none I had ever seen: a great club with a bulbous head from which protruded long and wicked-looking spikes that were like metal talons – a terrible instrument to bludgeon and tear the flesh. The fiend lunged forward with inhuman speed, swinging down its awful weapon at Taeppa. The shaman raised his staff lengthways barely in time to counter the strike, but its sheer force sent him staggering backward as the demon followed and struck another shattering blow, and again the shaman blocked it, but this time his staff simply broke and splintered as he was thrown down onto his back, and his fearful adversary moved to close on him.

But now came another figure which sprang at the horror, and Aelfric gave a great cry as he drove his spear towards its insubstantial form, and his face was livid with a wildness and fury to match the demon’s own. The fiend turned from Taeppa to meet Aelfric’s attack, smiting his spear with a downward stroke of its club, driving its point to the ground and pinning it there, while it advanced and gave another guttural howl as it towered over the helpless Aelfric. Its weapon flashed upward to drive those fearsome spikes deep into Aelfric’s breast, ripping open his body as blood burst from the dreadful wound, and momentarily he was lifted from his feet before he fell. The fiend tore its weapon free while it turned, standing over Aelfric’s crumpled form as its baleful stare fell back upon me.

Yet now from behind us there rose the clear voice of Cadroc, splitting the night as he screeched out words of power.

‘Exorciso te, omnis spiritus immunde, in nomine Dei Patris omnipotentis…’
I looked over to see him approach, the bronze cross on his breast emblazoned by the light of the torch he carried, making him appear like a shining vision of God’s wrath. He strode forward fearlessly until he stood to face the demon, and then a remarkable thing occurred. For the hideous spirit grew still and seemed to gaze transfixed upon the glowing symbol, while Cadroc screamed out Celtic curses. Yet even as he did so another remarkable thing happened. Beneath where the demon stood, the fallen and butchered form of Aelfric suddenly stirred back into life, his body resurrected as he reared up, and I saw that in his hand he clutched a small hunting knife. And there in the gloom, by the light of Cadroc’s torch, I watched astounded as Aelfric’s shaking hand rose to reveal that the shroud of darkness, which had seemed to be the demon’s true form, was in reality a long black robe which swirled about it to cover its true frame entirely. And there was exposed beneath it a bare and hugely muscled leg which was partly covered by a skirt of animal skin, as Aelfric drove the point of his knife into the bulging flesh. The fiend gave a dreadful snarl as it staggered back, then brought down its club, smashing it with sickening force onto Aelfric’s skull. But I had already glimpsed the gush of red blood which had spurted from the monster’s wound. Another loud curse rose from Cadroc’s lips, as with a final deadly glare the creature turned and fled, scrambling away into the night as it hobbled on its injured limb, its dark cloak fluttering about it as it went. And now it looked to me insanely like the image of a gigantic, hopping crow.

I fell to my knees beside Aelfric’s corpse, gazing upon it in shock and disbelief as blood welled from the torn and steaming entrails.

‘There may be time later to mourn our fallen.’ A voice spoke behind me, and I looked around to see Cynewulf standing over me. His former look of defeat and despair were gone, to be replaced by one of deep and terrible rage. ‘It is said that a man should not yield to grief, but instead seek vengeance
.
I have been shamed, made into a fool and a coward by my own fears. But I saw the sign brave Aelfric’s soul most surely rose to give us. Our enemy is no dark spirit but a bestial thing of flesh and bone. So I say its evil spell is gone from me, and my soul cries out for its blood. If the monster can bleed, the monster can die! It is wounded and we must hunt it down. We finish this tonight.’

I looked at Cadroc. He too was much changed from the desperate creature I had left on the edge of the marsh. His face was now hard and determined, and I supposed he was experiencing much of Cynewulf’s shame.

‘Yes,’ he said, his voice cold with anger. ‘I too have overcome my disgrace. My time of weakness and doubt is over, and I am ready to do what God demands. I am with you.’ And he drew his sword, then nodded firmly to Cynewulf.

‘I have come here to join this battle,’ the shaman said, as he reached down to snatch up Aelfric’s spear, then began to lead the way, following along the path where the beast had fled. I paused for a moment, wondering with uncertainty whether I should go with them. I did not see how I might be useful to them, unarmed as I was. But then my eyes fell upon Aelfric’s knife, lying at his side, and I picked it up and wiped away the blood. I shuddered with distress as I viewed his mangled body but reflected that perhaps his spirit now sent to me some portion of his courage. Or perhaps I did not wish to remain in that place alone. I am not certain. But I hurried off after them.

Together we raced away, hard in pursuit of our loathsome adversary, whose true nature of being I could no longer attempt to guess. Taeppa and Cadroc went in front, and by the light of Cadroc’s torch they followed the winding trail of blood.

‘Tread with care!’ the shaman called out to us as we left the solid ground of the island to enter into the perilous terrain of the marshes. ‘There is much here that is treacherous. More dangerous even than monsters.’

Chapter Seventeen

We moved in single file, and I went at the back as we threaded a path through the high rushes, our feet sinking into the squelching ground. Suddenly I became aware that in places ahead of us there danced the macabre silvery lights of the marsh phantoms, which drew ever nearer until they shone faintly in the gloom all about us. I shivered at the sight of them and did not care to imagine what manner of sinister things they were. Taeppa slowed his pace as he attempted to steer a path away from them, but still my eyes kept returning to them as it seemed they worked their spell of dark fascination onto me. As we crept forward through a dense patch of mist the sense of a primal lurking threat filled the air and felt so intense and powerful that it was like a thing that was itself alive. But as we moved onward I realised it was only this knowledge of extreme and imminent danger that kept the shock and terror of all that we had already experienced from overtaking me.

Then we heard it, somewhere up ahead – the sudden movement of our monstrous foe as it crashed and lumbered through the vegetation on its maimed leg, and for a fleeting moment I saw its great bulk loom up in the murk nearby, before it sank down and was lost again. I knew then that we had run the wounded beast to ground, where I sensed it would be most dangerous.

‘Both of you!’ I heard Cynewulf whisper sharply. ‘Move to my side. Our strength is in our number. We must stand together in formation. Shaman, go in the middle, with swords either side. When the beast attacks, you must engage it with your spear and try to draw it in. Yet be cautious and keep your distance. Cadroc and I will close upon it from both sides to cut it down. But seek to distract, wound and weaken rather than try to strike a fatal blow. It will be safer that way.’

I stood back as I watched them position themselves, shoulder to shoulder, as they began to advance as one, moving cautiously onward into the grey swirls of mist. We all sensed that our enemy was somewhere very close, only biding its time, as we strengthened our nerves against its inevitable onslaught. Then the rushes in front began to move and sway violently as the attack came, so swift and frightful that I feared our formation would break and scatter before its naked fury, as the beast burst upward to charge screaming at us, like an ancient thing formed from out of the mud and slime. Once more my senses reeled at the sight of it, at its sheer unearthliness, as it crouched and snarled, its demonic face contorted as drool slavered from its lips. I saw Taeppa brace himself, his spear pointed at the beast as he firmly held his ground. Then he took a step forward while his voice rose in its familiar chanting tone, calling out:

‘Heed me, shadow walker, I command you!

To the death-realms I condemn you,

To the dark wastes I confine you,

To emptiness I consign you,

To the depths I commit you,

To oblivion I compel you.

Sink back whence you came.

Let the darkness take its own
!’

As he spoke these words he began to wield his spear in a series of fluid motions that seemed to weave a strange and intricate design into the very fabric of the night, his movements deft and supple as there grew about him the rising sense of an almost tangible power. The monster itself now appeared to become affected by this, as its look of raw lethality slackened into one of seeming wariness or bewilderment. Then Taeppa sprang at it, stamping his foot down hard into the soft earth as he gave a loud cry and drove out his arm, jabbing the spear forcefully into the empty air, thrusting it towards the crouching figure of the beast. The monster rose up to its full height as its terrific frame rocked and it stumbled back, and Taeppa repeated his actions while the beast growled and staggered once more, its face filled again with brutal rage, as if the awful creature were held at bay by great blows from an invisible hand.

Now emboldened, Cynewulf and Cadroc moved forward to stand on either side of the shaman, and as Cadroc advanced he raised his sword up high, assuming the stance of an avenging angel. Then he brought his arm down, smashing the sword’s hilt with terrible force onto the back of the shaman’s head.

Taeppa tumbled forward, falling on top of the spear and lying motionless on the ground, and for all I knew he was dead. I looked on dumbfounded as Cadroc took a sideways step, turning to face us both, pointing his blade at Cynewulf as he backed away and approached the hulking figure of the beast.

‘So much for the blasphemies of wizards!’ he said to us. ‘Let the darkness indeed take its own. Perhaps now the odds are less to your liking?’ He reached down to stand his torch upright in the mud and gazed into the eyes of the beast as he came before it, while he gripped his cross and held it in front of him. Then I could see, this time with certainty, that the very sight of the holy symbol had rendered the creature spellbound, and even as Cadroc advanced, so the beast fell back, sinking silently away into the murk and the tall reeds, to be lost from our sight in an instant.

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