‘What about me?’ I said, getting angry again. ‘I’ve not sold my soul. But I saved Father Gregory.’
“That’s easy, Thomas. You’re a servant of the Spook, as you call him, who, in turn, is a servant of the Devil. So the power of evil is on loan to you while you serve. But of course, if you were to complete your training in evil and prepare to practise your vile trade as master rather than apprentice, then it would be your turn. You too would have to sign away your soul. John Gregory hasn’t yet told you this because you’re too young, but he would certainly do so one day. And when that day arrived, it would come as no surprise because you’d remember my words to you now. John Gregory has made many serious mistakes in his life and has fallen a long, long way from grace. Do you know that he was once a priest?’
I nodded. ‘I know that already.’
‘And do you know how, just fresh from ordination as a priest, he came to leave his calling? Do you know of his shame?’
I didn’t reply. I knew that Father Cairns was going to tell me anyway.
‘Some theologians have argued that a woman does not have a soul. That debate continues, but of one thing we can be certain - a priest cannot take a wife, because it would distract him from his devotion to God. John Gregory’s failing was doubly bad: not only was he distracted by a woman but that woman was already betrothed to one of his own brothers. It tore the family apart. Brother turned against brother over a woman called Emily Burns.’
By now I didn’t like Father Cairns one little bit and knew that if he’d talked to my mam about women not having souls, she’d have flayed him with her tongue to within an inch of his life. But I was curious about the Spook. Firstly I’d heard about Meg and now I was being told that, even earlier, he’d been involved with this Emily Burns. I was astonished and wanted to know more.
‘Did Mr Gregory marry Emily Burns?’ I asked, spitting my question right out.
‘Never in the eyes of God,’ answered the priest. ‘She came from Blackrod, where our family has its roots, and lives there alone to this day. Some say they quarrelled, but whatever the case John Gregory eventually took another woman, whom he met in the far north of the County and brought south. Her name was Margery Skelton, a notorious witch. The locals knew her as Meg, and in time she became feared and loathed across the breadth of Anglezarke Moor and the towns and villages to the south of the County.’
I said nothing. I know that he expected me to be shocked. I was, at everything he’d said, but reading the Spook’s diary back in Chipenden had prepared me for the worst.
Father Cairns gave another deep sniff then coughed deep in his throat. ‘Do you know which of his six brothers John Gregory wronged?’
I’d already guessed. ‘Father Gregory,’ I answered.
‘In devout families such as the Gregorys, it is the tradition that one son takes Holy Orders. When John threw away his vocation, another brother took his place and began training for the priesthood. Yes, Thomas, it was Father Gregory, the brother we buried today. He lost his betrothed and he lost his brother. What else could he do but turn to God?’
When I’d arrived, the church had been almost empty, but as we’d talked I’d become aware of sounds outside the confessional box. There’d been footsteps and the increasing murmur of voices. Now, suddenly, a choir began to sing. It would be well after seven by now and the sun would already have set.
I decided to make an excuse and leave but just as I opened my mouth I heard Father Cairns come to his feet.
‘Come with me, Thomas,’ he said. ‘I want to show you something.’
I heard him open his door and go out into the church, so I followed.
He beckoned me towards the altar where, led by another priest, neatly arranged in three rows of ten, a choir of altar boys was standing on the steps. Each wore a black cassock and white surplice.
Father Cairns halted and put his bandaged hand on my right shoulder.
‘Listen to them, Thomas. Don’t they sound like holy angels?’
I’d never heard an angel sing so I couldn’t answer, but they certainly made a better noise than my dad, who used to start singing as we got near to the end of the milking. His voice was bad enough to turn the milk sour.
‘You could have been a member of that choir, Thomas. But you’ve left it too late. Your voice is already beginning to deepen and a chance to serve has been lost.’
He was right about that. Most of the boys were younger than me and their voices were more like girls’
than lads’. In any case, my singing wasn’t much better than my dad’s.
‘Still, there are other things you can do. Let me show you...’
He led the way past the altar, through a door and along a corridor. Then we went out into the garden at the rear of the cathedral. Well, it was more the size of a field than a garden, and rather than flowers and roses, vegetables grew there.
It was already beginning to get dark but there was still enough light to see a hawthorn hedge in the distance with the gravestones of the churchyard just visible beyond it. In the foreground a priest was on his knees, weeding with a trowel. It was a big garden and only a small trowel.
‘You come from a family of farmers, Thomas. It’s good, honest work. You’d be at home working here,’ he said, pointing to the kneeling priest.
I shook my head. ‘I don’t want to be a priest,’ I said firmly.
‘Oh, you could never be a priest!’ Father Cairns said, his voice filled with shock and indignation.
‘You’ve been too close to the Devil for that and now will have to be watched closely for the rest of your life lest you slip back. No, that man is a brother.’
‘A brother?’ I asked, puzzled, thinking he was family or something.
The priest smiled. ‘At a big cathedral like this, priests have assistants who offer support. We call them brothers because, although they can’t administer the sacraments, they do other vital tasks and are part of the family of the Church. Brother Peter is our gardener and very good at it too. What do you say, Thomas? Would you like to be a brother?’
I knew all about being a brother. With being the youngest of seven, I’d been given all the jobs that nobody else wanted to do. It looked like it was the same here. In any case, I already had a job and I didn’t believe what Father Cairns had told me about the Devil and the Spook. It had made me think a bit, but deep down I knew it couldn’t be true. Mr Gregory was a good man.
It was getting darker and chillier by the moment so I decided it was time to go.
‘Thanks for talking to me, Father,’ I said, ‘But could you tell me about the danger to Mr Gregory now, please?’
‘All in good time, Thomas,’ he said, giving me a little smile.
Something in that smile told me that I’d been tricked. That he had no intention at all of helping the Spook.
‘I’ll think about what you’ve told me but I’ve got to be getting back now or I’ll miss my supper,’ I told him. It seemed a good excuse at the time. He’d no way of knowing that I was fasting because I had to be ready to deal with the Bane.
‘We’ve got supper for you here, Thomas,’ said Father Cairns. ‘In fact we’d like you to stay the night.’
Two other priests had come out of the side door and were walking towards us. They were big men and I didn’t like the expressions on their faces.
There was a moment when I could probably have got away, but it seemed silly to run when I wasn’t really sure what was going to happen.
Then it was too late because the priests stood on each side of me, gripping me firmly by my upper arms and shoulders. I didn’t struggle because there was no point. Their hands were big and heavy and I felt that if I stayed in the same spot too long, I’d start to sink into the earth. Then they walked me back into the vestry.
‘This is for your own good, Thomas,’ Father Cairns said, as he followed us inside. ‘The Quisitor will seize John Gregory tonight. He’ll have a trial, of course, but the outcome is certain. Found guilty of dea
ling with the Devil, he will be burned at the stake. That’s why I can’t let you go back to him. There’s still a chance for you. You’re just a boy and your soul can still be saved without burning. But if you’re with him when he’s arrested then you’ll suffer the same fate. So this is for your own good.’
‘But he’s your cousin!’ I blurted out. ‘He’s family. How can you do this? Let me go and warn him.’
‘Warn him?’ asked Father Cairns. ‘Do you think I haven’t tried to warn him? I’ve been warning him for most of his adult life. Now I need to think about his soul more than his body. The flames will cleanse him. By means of pain, his soul can be saved. Don’t you see? I’m doing it to help him, Thomas. There are much more important things than our brief existence in this world.’
‘You’ve betrayed him! Your own flesh and blood. You’ve told the Quisitor we’re here!’
‘Not both of you, just John. So join us, Thomas. Your soul will be cleansed through prayer and your life will no longer be in danger. What do you say?’
There was no point in arguing with someone who was so sure that he was right, so I didn’t waste my breath. The only sound to be heard was the echo of our footsteps and the jangle of keys as they led me further and further into the gloom of the cathedral.
Chapter 7
Escape And Capture
They locked me in a small damp room without a window and didn’t bring me the supper they’d mentioned. For a bed there was just a small heap of straw. When the door closed I stood there in the dark, listening to the key being turned in the lock and the footsteps echoing away down the corridor.
It was too dark to see my hands before my face but that didn’t worry me much. After nearly six months as the Spook’s apprentice I’d become a lot braver. Being a seventh son of a seventh son, I’d always seen things that others couldn’t but the Spook had taught me that most of them couldn’t do you much harm. It was an old cathedral and there was a big graveyard beyond the garden so that meant there would be things about - unquiet things like ghasts and ghosts - but I wasn’t afraid of them.
No, what bothered me was the Bane below in the catacombs! The thought of it reaching into my mind was terrifying. I certainly didn’t want to face that, and if it was now as strong as the Spook suspected, it would know exactly what was going on. In fact it had probably corrupted Father Cairns, turning him against his own cousin. It might have worked its evil amongst the priests and been listening to their conversations. It was bound to know who I was and where I was and it wouldn’t be too friendly to say the least.
Of course, I didn’t plan on staying there all night. You see, I still had the three keys in my pocket and I intended to use the special one Andrew had made. Father Cairns wasn’t the only one with tricks up his sleeve.
The key wouldn’t get me beyond the Silver Gate, because you needed something far more subtle and well-crafted to open that lock, but I knew it would get me out into the corridor and through any door of the cathedral. I just had to wait a while until everyone was asleep and then I could sneak out. If I went too early, I’d probably be caught. On the other hand, if I delayed, I’d be too late to warn the Spook and might get a visit from the Bane, so it was a judgement I couldn’t afford to get wrong.
As darkness fell and the noises outside faded, I decided to take my chance. The key turned in the lock without a hint of resistance, but just before I opened the door I heard footsteps. I froze and held my breath as, gradually, they receded into the distance and everything returned to silence.
I waited a long time, listening very carefully. Finally I drew in a slow breath and eased open the door.
Fortunately, it opened without a single creak and I stepped out into the corridor, pausing and listening again.
I didn’t know for sure that there was anybody left in the cathedral and its side buildings. Perhaps they’d all gone back to the big, priests’ house? But I couldn’t believe they wouldn’t have left somebody on guard, so I tiptoed along the dark corridor, afraid to make even the slightest sound.
When I came to the side door of the vestry, I had a shock. I didn’t need my key. It was already open.
The sky was clear now and the moon was up, bathing the path in a silver light. I stepped outside and moved cautiously. Only then did I sense somebody behind me; someone standing to the side of the door, hidden in the shadow of one of the big stone buttresses that shored up the sides of the cathedral.
For a moment I froze. Then, my heart pounding so loudly I could hear it, I slowly turned round. The shadowy figure stepped out into the moonlight. I recognized him straight away. Not a priest, but the brother who’d been on his knees tending the garden earlier. Gaunt of face, Brother Peter was almost totally bald, with just a thin collar of white hair below his ears.
Suddenly he spoke. ‘Warn your master, Thomas,’ he said. ‘Go quickly! Get away from this town while you both can!’
I didn’t reply. I just turned and ran down the path as fast as I could. I only stopped running when I reached the streets. I walked so as not to draw too much attention to myself and I wondered why Brother Peter hadn’t tried to stop me. Wasn’t that his job? Hadn’t he been left on guard?
But I didn’t have time to think about that properly. I had to warn the Spook of his cousin’s betrayal before it was too late. I didn’t know which inn the Spook was staying at but perhaps his brother would know. That was a start because I knew where Friargate was: it was one of the roads I’d walked down while searching for an inn, so Andrew’s shop wouldn’t be too difficult to find. I hurried through the cobbled streets, knowing that I didn’t have much time; that the Quisitor and his men would already be on their way.
Friargate was a wide, hilly road with two rows of shops and I found the locksmith’s easily. The name above the shop said andrew Gregory but the premises were in darkness. I had to knock three times before a light flickered in the upstairs room.
Andrew opened the door and held a candle up to my face. He was wearing a long nightshirt and his face held a mixture of expressions. He looked puzzled, angry and weary.
‘Your brother’s in danger,’ I said, trying to keep my voice as low as possible. ‘I would have warned him myself, but I don’t know where he’s staying ...’
He beckoned me in without a word and led me through into his workshop. The walls were festooned with keys and locks of every possible shape and size. One large key was as long as my forearm and I wondered at the size of the lock it belonged to. Quickly I explained what had happened.
‘I told him he was a fool to stay here!’ he exclaimed, thumping his fist down hard on the top of a workbench. ‘And damn that treacherous, two-faced cousin of ours! I knew all along he wasn’t to be trusted. The Bane must have finally got to him, twisting his mind to get John out of the way - the one person in the whole County who still poses a real threat to it!’
He went upstairs but it didn’t take him long to get dressed. Soon we were heading back through the empty streets, taking a route that led us back in the direction of the cathedral.
‘He’s staying at the Book and Candle,’ muttered Andrew Gregory, shaking his head. ‘Why on earth didn’t he tell you that? You could have saved time by going straight there. Let’s hope we’re not too late!’
But were too late. We heard them from several streets away: men’s voices raised in anger and someone thumping a door loud enough to wake the dead.
We watched from a corner, taking care not to be seen. There was nothing we could do now. The Quisitor was there on his huge horse and he had about twenty armed men at his command. They had cudgels and some of them had drawn their swords as if they expected resistance. One of the men hammered on the inn door again with the hilt of his sword.
‘Open up! Open up! Be quick about it!’ he shouted. ‘Or we’ll break down the door!’
There was the sound of bolts being drawn back and the innkeeper came to the door in his nightshirt, holding a lantern. He looked bewildered, as if he’d just woken up from
a very deep sleep. He saw only the two armed men facing him, not the Quisitor. Perhaps that was why he made a big mistake: he began to protest and bluster.
‘What’s this?’ he cried. ‘Can’t a man get some sleep after a hard day’s work? Disturbing the peace at this time of night! I know my rights. There’s laws against such things.’
‘Fool!’ shouted the Quisitor angrily, riding closer to the door. ‘I am the law! A warlock sleeps within your walls. A servant of the Devil! Sheltering a known enemy of the Church carries dire penalties. Stand aside or pay with your life!’
‘Sorry, lord. Sorry!’ wailed the innkeeper, holding up his hands in supplication, a look of terror on his face.
In answer the Quisitor simply gestured to his men, who seized the innkeeper roughly. Without ceremony he was dragged into the street and hurled to the ground.
Then, very deliberately, with cruelty etched on his face, the Quisitor rode his white stallion over the innkeeper. A hoof came down hard on his leg and I clearly heard the bone snap. My blood ran cold. The man lay screaming on the ground while four of the guards ran into the house; their boots thumped up the wooden stairs.
When they dragged the Spook outside, he looked old and frail. Perhaps a little afraid too, but I was too far away to be sure.
‘Well, John Gregory, you’re mine at last!’ cried the Quisitor, in a loud, arrogant voice. ‘Those dry old bones of yours should burn well!’
The Spook didn’t answer. I watched them tie his hands behind his back and lead him away down the street.
‘All these years, then it comes to this,’ muttered Andrew. ‘He always meant well. He doesn’t deserve to burn.’
I couldn’t believe it was happening. I had a lump in my throat so big that, until the Spook had been taken round the corner and out of sight, I couldn’t even speak. ‘We’ve got to do something!’ I said at last.
Andrew shook his head wearily. ‘Well, boy, have a think about it and then tell me just what we’re supposed to do. Because I haven’t a clue. You’d better come back to my place and at first light get as far away from here as possible.’