A Dance in Blood Velvet (11 page)

“The vision you saw on the battlefield and again last night was the astral world, which I name Raqia, the firmament. That is Sophia’s realm, where we must search. It is peopled by her servants, who may help or hinder us. You’ve seen Raqia, Benedict. The next step is to take courage and enter!”

* * *

The following day, Ben and Holly strolled through the white and emerald light of the trees, the sea breeze softening the sun’s honeyed heat.

Holly said, “I knew you had psychic gifts as soon as we met. You have such a beautiful aura. Golden.”

“You can see auras?” He felt that nothing could surprise him now.

“I see all sorts of strange things. I don’t talk of it, because people think I’m peculiar. But Lancelyn doesn’t.”

“Neither do I,” he said with feeling. Then, impulsively, “But why are you with him? You’re so young. Don’t your parents mind?”

He never forgot the awful vulnerability that flashed across her face, nor the shaky smile with which she tried to hide it.

“Oh well... you see, they were very young when they had me. My arrival was... inconvenient. I do love them, but they always saw me as a bit of a nuisance, I suppose. They couldn’t wait for me to leave school and start work, but even then I couldn’t do anything right. As for my psychic gifts, they thought I was making it up to show off, or even to be deliberately wicked. So I tried to hide my true self, but didn’t always succeed, so all in all, the situation was making me rather unhappy.”

“Poor Holly,” Ben said quietly.

“I went to a medium for help, but she was a charlatan. Then I worked as a psychic myself for a time, but it was frightening. I saw too much. I was on the verge of a breakdown, when Lancelyn came to one of my seances. He was looking for genuine clairvoyants. He saved my sanity, made me see I was using the gift wrongly. I needed his guidance, Ben. That’s why I went away with him.”

“What did your parents say to that?”

“They made disapproving noises, but secretly they were relieved.”

“They disowned you?” said Ben, thinking of his own family.

“Oh, nothing so dramatic. I still see them. They’re nice enough in their way, but it’s as if we’re acquaintances, not family. The Neophytes are my family now.”

Her loneliness made him feel intensely protective. They climbed down the rocks and stood at the sea’s edge, gulls circling above them. Unable to hold back any longer, he took her in his arms and kissed her.

She opened to him, becoming warm, receptive, wanting him as he wanted her, but scared. He felt himself turning hot with embarrassment as much as desire, thinking,
How can I possibly admit that I’m a virgin?

All the prudishness instilled by his parents reared up to torment him. He groaned and held Holly away from him.

“What’s wrong?” She looked at him with dark, worried eyes. To his own shame, he was imagining her among the naked sunbathers.

He said, “I - I think you must be more experienced than me.”

“Why?” She was angry. “I believe in free love, yes, but I’m not depraved. We hold the human body sacred.”

“But you and Lancelyn...” he said helplessly.

“I’m his secretary. He’s like a father to me!”

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.”

“This is my first time, Ben.”

Her words sent a molten thrill through him, with the certainty that this was going to happen.

“Mine, too,” he whispered. “But are you sure -”

“Ssh.” She spoke sternly. “Don’t say any more.”

Wise advice. He’d almost spoiled the moment with talk, but she saved it, silencing him with her sweet mouth, drawing him down onto the hot firm sand. Awkward and laughing they undressed, and she pressed her golden body to his pale, war-scarred flesh. Not wanting to hurt or disappoint her, he let her guide him, responding to her needs, holding back his own delicious culmination with all his will until she had reached hers. And despite their inexperience, it was magical. Holly burned away his guilt, showing him that sex, even in all its animal, feverish urgency, was not a sin but an offering to heaven.

Afterwards, they lay folded together, melting like honey into the golden sand. Adoring each other in wonder. And Ben knew, they both knew.

“We must lie together like this forever. I never want us to be apart, Holly. Never.”

* * *

The golden summer in Italy was the most glorious time of Benedict’s life. However, it couldn’t last. Returning to England, Holly insisted on a church wedding; she still had a childlike need to please her parents, and they
were
pleased that day, and quite charming. Lancelyn was benevolently thrilled that he’d brought Ben and Holly together.

When no children came, Ben and Holly were each secretly glad. They had no illusions about parenthood; how appalling, to inflict the same unintentional pain on their own offspring! Their families weren’t around to drop irritating hints about babies, so they were left alone to pursue their rarefied lives.

Lancelyn helped Ben to establish his bookshop, but never interfered with its running. With no visible source of income, he spent his time studying the occult. He lived alone and - while he had relationships with some of the female Neophytes - seemed content to remain a bachelor. His only recreation, aside from fishing, was repairing mechanical toys.

He was a born leader, self-assured and inspiring. As a friend, too, he was delightful; warm, wise, endlessly helpful. Ben was certain he would never misuse his power.

Benedict was stunned to discover how much hard work the Order involved. He was required to study philosophy, religion, and physical and mental disciplines such as yoga. He mastered every challenge, and within a few years Lancelyn appointed him his second in command, Magister Templi.

The Order took itself very seriously. Lancelyn did not tolerate time-wasters. Some members were well known in their professions; judges, doctors, politicians, even aristocrats - but when they all dressed in robes with their faces covered, they shed their identities, relishing secret escape from their public roles.

For a few years, everything was perfect.

When things went wrong, the catalyst - Ben realised after the event - was their mother’s death.

Holly sensed the death in one of her psychic flashes, soon confirmed by a letter from his parents’ solicitors. Ben tried to attend the funeral, but his father, unrepentant, drove him away in a rage. That was Ben’s last attempt to contact him. His father lived alone at Grey Crags now and could rot there for all he cared.

However, it was Lancelyn’s utter indifference to their bereavement that crystallised Ben’s frustration. As Ben grew into his own power, he began to resent Lancelyn’s authority, his casual assumption that Ben and Holly were his protégés, eternal assistants. That was why Ben built his own temple. Working alone, he entered Raqia with increasing ease to soar through the ethereal mountains of the astral world. No esoteric words or symbols were needed; only the force of his own will. He saw wonders and sensed dark-winged creatures around him, beings who were frustratingly oblivious, untouchable.

If Lancelyn communicates with them,
he thought,
he is either infinitely more adept than me - or he’s hallucinating - or telling lies! Ha, heresy!

The brothers were growing apart, though neither dared admit it. The process began even before they discovered the Book, long before the deaths of James and Deirdre. Ben finally acknowledged the schism as he walked along tree-lined streets to confront his brother.

Lancelyn
, y
our meetings are fruitless and theatrical
, he wanted to announce.
You have not unveiled Wisdom. You have done nothing new.

I am younger and stronger than you. So why are you still in power?

* * *

Benedict stood on Lancelyn’s doorstep, hands pushing his coat pockets out of shape.
I don’t want to face this
, he thought.
I risk having all my dreams shattered. But I have to. I want everything, or nothing!

A manservant showed him into the study. Lancelyn was sitting at his desk surrounded by his books and manuscripts. Another figure, a disembodied torso on the edge of the desk, made Ben start. Some sort of dummy, wearing a Mexican hat and striped shirt. One of Lancelyn’s restored toys. Damned ugly thing, Ben thought.

“Come in,” Lancelyn said gruffly. “Cigar?”

“Thank you,” said Benedict.

Lancelyn leaned over to the dummy and pressed a lever. Whirring, it came to life, raising its hands to produce a box of cigars, then opening the lid to Benedict. The fixed grin on its badly painted face was unsettling.

“Nice toy, eh?” said Lancelyn. “I completely rebuilt the mechanism. Makes a pleasant change from brain-work.”

Ben took a cigar. The automaton flicked a thumb, held out a light, then sank back to rest.

“Remarkable,” said Ben, through clouds of smoke. He sat in a leather armchair, putting on a show of relaxed confidence. “You’ve heard the unfortunate news about James and Deirdre?”

“Of course.” Lancelyn sat down behind his desk. “Very sad. Most regrettable.”

“Any possibility that it wasn’t suicide? That they were victims of a magical attack?”

The magus’s reaction was subtle. He became very still, face expressionless and eyes hard. “A strong possibility, I’d say.”

“But who would do that to them?” Ben said. “Why?”

“They must have upset someone. No one with such powers uses them lightly, so it must have been very serious. Flouting the Laws, perhaps, or breaking their oath of secrecy.”

Ben moistened his dry lips. Would Lancelyn speak so openly, if he were guilty? “D’you know who they quarrelled with? Does any member of the Order possess such power... apart from you?”

Cool amusement creased his brother’s face. “What is this, Ben, a police investigation?”

“I need the truth. I understand that both Deirdre and James quarrelled with you.”

“Indeed? What else did Deirdre tell you?”

“I never said she told me anything,” said Ben, playing Lancelyn’s game. “But she was afraid. She had a visitation. In the light of what subsequently happened, it sounded remarkably like a nightmare vision of a train.”

“Perhaps she had a fear of trains; a self-fulfilling prophecy,” Lancelyn said thinly. “Be careful, Ben. Be very careful.”

The room seemed to darken. He blinked hard. “Why?”

“There is much you don’t understand. Why d’you think I am head of the Order and you are not?”

Ben was stung. “Because I respect you!”

“Respect? Have you no ambition? Are you suggesting that your power is equal to mine, but you hold back out of brotherly love?”

“No. And I’m not here to argue, only for a straight answer. Did you have anything to do with the deaths of my friends?”

Again the room darkened. Lancelyn appeared tiny and distant, as if Ben were viewing him through the wrong end of a telescope. Ben began to shiver. Animal terror seized his mind. There was only one word for the current that surged into him: evil.

The feeling vanished. Too stunned to react, he heard Lancelyn’s response to his question. “You disappoint me. First, there’s no use you can make of the answer. Second, no magical attack is undertaken lightly; the reasons of the magus are deep and complex beyond society’s shallow morality. One cannot be judged by the other. Third, you haven’t so much asked a question as given an answer: that you do not trust me. Tell me, Ben, what use is a disciple if he lacks absolute faith in his master?”

Ben stood up, swayed, caught himself on the edge of the desk. He felt frightened, outmanoeuvred, and angry. “So, I am useless -for daring to question you?”

“Perhaps the fault is mine. I wonder why I promoted you to such high office when you clearly don’t understand the rules.”

“Since when has murder been in the rules?”

Lancelyn spoke with menace. “I am not a murderer, Ben, but I shall never forget your insinuation. Our search for Wisdom is a deadly serious business. If you don’t understand how serious, you’d be better off out of it.”

“Are you expelling me?”

“No, no.” Lancelyn’s hard tone softened. “I’m warning you. By the way, I hope you’ve brought back the Book.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“How goes the translation?”

“Slow, but -” Ben stopped. He no longer had any intention of telling Lancelyn about the summoning. It was a matter of principle.

“Then if you can make no useful progress, I must work on it myself. Kindly bring it back immediately.”

Ben straightened his jacket and said, “I’m afraid I can’t.”

“What?”

“I haven’t finished my studies. I came here ready to give you the benefit of the doubt, but I won’t be spoken to like an imbecile. I’ve as much right to the Book as you; I’ll give it back when I’m ready. That’s all. Now I’ll bid you good morning.”

* * *

“The message is clear,” Ben told Holly. “Anyone who crosses Lancelyn will be punished. His warning is blatant: ‘I have the power to kill with magic; no use rushing to the police because they can’t prove a thing; but anyone who challenges me will meet the same fate.’ Even me!”

Holly listened, her face pinched with misery. “I can’t believe he’d hurt his own brother.”

“Hang it, we aren’t brothers any more!” he said. “We’re rivals, and he knows it. But I won’t take this. I’ll find a way to defend myself - and you, Holly. Good grief, if he won’t stop at me or Deirdre, why should he spare you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, he’d never hurt me!” She spoke more in fear than anger.

“I can’t take the risk.” He added sadly, “I don’t know Lancelyn any more. Perhaps I never did. I was too busy worshipping him to see what he really is. But he’s gone too far. I’ve got to take the Order away from him before he destroys it.”

* * *

Benedict stood alone outside his attic temple, holding the Book. It was heavy as stone and icy to the touch, as if, instead of rotting, it had petrified.

Ben trusted Holly’s intuition, but had been astonished when she’d envisioned the Book’s location so accurately. When he and Lancelyn found the tunnel and saw the book in the tiny dank cell, exactly as she’d described -!