Deliver us from Evil (12 page)

'Faustus?'

Emily nodded. 'The pale man with the black beard. He was riding yesterday across my father's fields. He had been stopping amidst the labourers, giving out gold, paying them to come and work for him. My father rode up to complain. But Faustu
s only laughed, and spat in his
face.'

'Your father's men should have cudgelled him.'

'Men? What men? You do not understand, Robert - my father has no men, they have all been bought away. And even those who saw what Faustus did, who had only just been hired that day, did nothing to help my father but rather rushed up and held his arms, so that he was powerless to avenge the insult, for he could not move from his saddle. And then Faustus mocked him, and called him traitor for having deserted Sir Charles at the end of the war. Faustus said he would be punished very soon for his faithlessness, for the time of reckoning was close at hand, and there were many accounts that had to be drawn up.' Emily paused, and bit her lip. 'And that is what
I
heard,' she said at last. 'And that is why
I
have grown afraid.'

Robert hugged her tightly. 'What do you think might happen, then?' he asked.

She shrugged slightly.

'
I
swear,' he whispered, 'whatever befalls us, whatever occurs, we shall never be parted.'

She met his eyes. Her own seemed suddenly very solemn and deep. Robert waited for her to blink, but it was as though her expression had been frozen, and would never change. '
I
believe you,' she said at last. She squeezed his hand. 'But you must never forget, Robert, what you have just promised me. For
I
never shall.'

Then she jumped to her feet.

Robert joined her. Together, they looked towards the hall. Robert could hear the dim thud of boots as they approached up the pathway outside; they paused, then there was a rap upon the door. At once, before the maid had appeared, Lady Vaughan emerged from the parlour with Mrs Foxe, to join Robert and her daughter in the passageway. She glanced at them nervously, as the maid came hurrying.

There was a second knock. 'Open it, Sarah,' said Lady Vaughan. 'Let us see who our visitor may be.' The maid curtsied; as she unbolted and opened the door, Lady Vaughan stepped forward.

It was a moment before she could speak. 'Sergeant Everard,' she whispered at last.

He stood in the doorway. He was exceedingly pale, a look of unspoken horror on his face.

'Samuel.' Mrs Foxe walked forward. She took his arm and drew him inside. 'Something has happened.' She swallowed. 'Please, Samuel - tell us what it is.'

Sergeant Everard allowed himself to be guided forward. He stopped before Lady Vaughan; then stood silently.

'It is my husband, is it not?' asked Lady Vaughan after a pause.

'Madam
..
.' Sergeant Everard bowed his head. '
I
am very sorry.'

'Well, then
...
well
...'
She turned and, for a moment, leaned against the wall. She smoothed back her hair; then reached for Emily, to brush the tears from her daughter's cheeks. Emily began to sob silently; Lady Vaughan rocked her to and fro, not crying herself but staring into space. At length, she looked round at Sergeant Everard again. 'Where did it happen?' she asked.

'Old Sarum, Madam. In the wood that surrounds the outer ring.'

Lady Vaughan glanced at Mrs Foxe. 'As your husband foretold. And in the same way, Sergeant, as the previous two?'

'Aye, Madam.'

'
I
would like to see him.'

'
I
have been sent to take you there.'

'What, his body has not been brought back?'

'The Captain wanted him left where he was found. He believes . . . the location - it may be significant.'

Mrs Foxe nodded. 'Yes,' she whispered softly. 'Again, as he has often said it would be.'

Sergeant Everard gestured towards the door. 'Come, we must go at once,' he said numbly. 'All of us.
I
have two soldiers outside, who will ride by our sides.' He shivered. 'For none of us,
I
think, should be alone upon this day.'

'. . . lying is thy sustenance, thy food.'

John Milton,
Paradise Regained

‘
I

hey travelled in virtual silence. Sometimes Emily would choke on her sobs, and Lady Vaughan would whisper words of comfort in her ear; but otherwise not a word was spoken or exchanged. Even the militiamen sat in their saddles as though chiselled from ice, and Robert dreaded to think what horrors must have been inflicted on Sir Henry, for the soldiers' eyes were as glazed as their Sergeant's, and their faces pinched with the same disgust. Soon Old Sarum was visible from the road; and the nearer it loomed, the greater grew Robert's dread. He saw a couple of ravens wheeling above the summit where the castle had stood; and he remembered how the birds had flocked above Clearbury Ring. And yet in truth, he realised, he did not mind what had happened, did not mind that Sir Henry was dead - for it had not been Emily.
It had not been Emily.
This thought kept beating like blood in his ears; and since he could not feel ashamed of such selfishness, he marked it down as a sign of his love.

At length, before the trees which stretched up to Old Sarum's outer ring, Sergeant Everard reined in his horse. He pointed towards the depths of the wood. 'You see, Madam, where the trees start to climb the rampart of the fort

Lady Vaughan bowed her head. '
I
see it,' she nodded. She turned to Emily. 'Come, my darling,' she whispered. 'Let us not put off the evil sight.' She dismounted and, taking her daughter's hand, began to walk slowly through the trees. Sergeant Everard gestured to his men;

T
hey dismounted as Lady Vaughan had done, and ran after her into the wood. The Sergeant turned to Mrs Foxe. 'Come,' he said, 'this is an evil place. We should not linger here.'

Mrs Foxe stared at him in surprise. 'But, Samuel, should
I
not go after Lady Vaughan, so that
I
may comfort her in her grief?'

'No, Madam. The Captain is in attendance by the body, and will offer the widow consolation, but for yourself and for your son - you should not see what lies in that darkness, for it is not to be borne. Please.' He spurred his horse forward. 'Let us escape the shadow of these trees.'

The Sergeant rode with them until the wood had been left behind, and Salisbury could be seen in the valley below. Then he turned in his saddle, and pointed up at the rampart of Old Sarum where it emerged from the trees. Figures could be seen standing there, in the uniform of militiamen. 'Wait for your husband there, Madam.' He bowed his head. 'Farewell.' He wheeled his horse, and galloped away along the track.

Robert watched him depart; then followed his mother up the hill towards the summit of Old Sarum. He narrowed his eyes as he stared at the militiamen on the rampart; and then suddenly, he started, and seized his mother's arm. 'Is that not Father?' he asked. 'There, coming down?'

For a moment Mrs Foxe sat frozen; then she spurred her horse on, for she could hear her husband's cries - how frantic they were, as he came running towards her, down the rampart and across the open field. 'What are you doing here?' he screamed. 'Both of you, what are you doing in this place?'

Mrs Foxe swung down from her saddle and ran into his arms. 'There was no danger,' she said breathlessly, 'for we were brought here by Sergeant Everard.'

Captain Foxe gazed at her in consternation. 'But Sergeant Everard has been missing since just after dawn, he and his entire patrol, all save one, who has been found just now some miles from here, killed, his skull caved in.'

'But .
..
but
..
. Samuel's patrol was with us. They brought us here to see Sir Henry's corpse.'

'Sir Henry is no corpse.' Captain Foxe pointed towards the rampart. 'See, where he walks and breathes, a living man yet.'

Mrs Foxe shook her head dumbly. She tried to speak, but horror strangled her words.

'Lady Vaughan,' said Robert. 'She and Emily, they are in the wood. We left them there.'

Captain Foxe, like his wife, seemed unable to speak. For a moment, he could only stare at Robert; then he seized his wife's horse and, clambering into its saddle, galloped as fast as he could urge the horse to go. Robert followed him. The meaning of what he had just said still seemed unreal; he could not believe that Emily might truly be in danger - that Emily might be dead. And then, as he felt his stomach rise and become air in his mouth, he did believe it. He looked ahead of him, where his father had already reached the summit of the hill and had dismounted. He was screaming orders to his men, and troopers were spilling out amidst the trees. Robert followed them; he headed into the ruins of the castle, tripping once across a grass-covered stone, then over the root of an old gnarled yew, but never stopping - stumbling forward until he was slipping through the mud down the side of the far rampart, towards the wood where he had last seen Emily alive, and which was waiting for him, menacing, and dark, and still.

He hurried through the trees. Suddenly, the silence was broken. Robert heard a cry of horror, and then a second, both ahead of him, and then from all sides there was the sound of people crashing through the undergrowth, hurrying in the direction of the voices. Robert recognised his father, a dim form through the branches and shadows; he followed him, then shrank back as they approached a clearing where two men were kneeling over something in the mud. The soldiers looked round at the approach of Captain Foxe; they rose to their feet and, as his father walked forward into the glade, Robert felt his own legs give way beneath him. He knelt in the mud, and forced himself to look again. He could barely recognise Lady Vaughan. She was swinging in the breeze, her ankles suspended from the branch of a tree. Her naked body had been mutilated, and disembowelled; she had no eyes; her Fingers, just as those of the unborn child had been, were snapped backwards. And yet despite the violence of the attack, and the fact that it could only have happened a few minutes before, there was scarcely any blood - not on the body itself, nor splashed upon the ground. Captain Foxe stared at the corpse in disbelief. 'Dear God,' he murmured, 'receive her sweet soul. She was a noble lady, and a most dear friend.' He unfastened his cloak and placed it tenderly round the naked body. Then he turned to his men. 'Find them,' he ordered. 'Whoever did this -
I
want them all found.'

As the militiamen dispersed, Robert pushed past them into the clearing. At once, Captain Foxe spun round, as though expecting to be surprised. His face darkened at the sight of his son. 'Have you not followed me enough, Robert,' he asked bitterly, 'to know what you were likely to find on such a trail?'

'No.' Robert pulled on his father's arm. 'Emily.'

'Emily?'

'Yes, you must tell them to search for Emily; she was with her mother, and now she is gone.' Robert gestured frantically at the trampled mud of the clearing. 'Where is she?' he cried.

Captain Foxe closed his eyes a moment; then he seized his son's hand, and together they plunged into the darkness of the trees. For a while they heard nothing but the splashing of their own feet in mud; then suddenly Captain Foxe held up his hand. 'Quiet,' he whispered and Robert froze. He heard it at once: a slapping sound, like damp washing being smacked up and down upon a stone. Slowly, Captain Foxe drew out his sword; then he crept through the shadows towards the source of the sound.

Two men in militia uniform were squatting on a fallen tree. Even from behind, Robert could recognise them as the escort of Emily and Lady Vaughan, sent by Sergeant Everard as guards into the wood.

'On your feet, troopers,' ordered Captain Foxe.

The two men stirred and glanced round. Their hands and mouths were smeared with blood; their faces, though, wore the same pinched expressions of horror as before; and their eyes were as dead. One sucked on something which he held in his hand; and for a moment, his eyes seemed to light up with greed. The other pulled on it and sucked in his turn; and as he smacked his lips, Robert recognised the slapping sound.

'What has happened to you,' cried Captain Foxe in horror, 'that you are sunk to the level of beasts - no, lower than beasts, to that of demons in Hell?' He crossed to the men and ripped their bloody meal from their hands, tossing the gore away as though it were poison to his touch. On the ground before the men, Robert saw a soup of organs and blood, such as he had often seen in the channels of butchers' yards; and then he realised what the mess was, and he began to retch, retch and retch until he thought that he would faint. But he did not; and always, even as he closed his eyes and prayed for oblivion, he saw Emily before him, and he dreaded that the guts might not be Lady Vaughan's alone.