Knight of the Cross (3 page)

“That's what it says on the parchment?” he demanded.

The little priest shook his head. “No. The Vrahnas has been...visiting...people since time began. It has many different names in the cultures of the world from what I understand, but it's basically the same thing.” He stopped, licking his lips before taking a sip of the fruit juice in his cup.  “The parchment here,” he held it up, the sunlight streaming in through the open window showing the writing in stark contrast, “it says, 'Ο Ντάγκον έρχεται
'...
In your language that means 'Dagon is coming'.”

Sir Richard's fingers tightened spasmodically around his own wooden cup and the hairs on the back of his neck prickled as he replayed the scene from last night's dream in his head. The whispered chant he could hear in his head; he remembered it now. “Arra...arra...arra...Dagon...Dagon...Dagon...”

“Dagon has taken the place of the Vrahnas,” Father Vitus continued, not noticing the knight's nervous reaction. “Only, where the Vrahnas frightened people...well, no one died. It was just a nightmare. Dagon though...when he visits he either sends his victim insane with terror or... there have been a lot of people dying in their sleep since tales of this devil started to circulate a while ago. Why his name was written on the parchment your attackers carried I can't say, but this is a warning. A curse! You must leave here now, forget this foolish investigation.”

Jacob had watched his master's reaction to Father Vitus's information and now he spoke up. “You saw him last night, didn't you? This Dagon, or succubus or incubus or whatever the hell it is. That's why you were rolling about on the floor!”

Sir Richard's hand strayed to his sword hilt as he nodded a reply. “Aye. The demon came to me in my sleep,” he admitted, looking at the priest for his reaction. “I couldn't move, couldn't even open my mouth to scream. Yet...when I managed to roll out of the bed and waken myself, there was no one there but Jacob and I.”

“He was here?” Father Vitus looked interested rather than shocked or frightened. “Dagon was in the church buildings?”

“It was just a dream,” Sir Richard smiled, helping himself to some spiced pork. “I haven't been driven insane and I'm still very much alive. I'm sure it was more the result of the cheese I ate before I retired than any ancient demon trying to kill me.”

The priest nodded and mumbled what sounded like a prayer of protection although the Hospitaller couldn't make out the words.

Athenais, the housekeeper, came in to clear the plates from the table and, as before, the knight noticed the priest casting surreptitious glances at her and he guessed Jacob wasn't the only one that was smitten by the girl's beauty.

“Douse that in holy water and burn it,” Sir Richard stood, pointing grimly at the cursed parchment in Father Vitus's hand. “Jacob and I are going to the market to question the locals about this whole damn mystery. It'll take more than a bad dream to stop our investigation.”

* * *

The morning was spent in the market, the bright sunlight reflecting off the hard ground and making the heat almost unbearable for the two English Hospitallers. The canopied stalls offered some respite but it was stifling even in the shade and the locals seemed to have – or admitted to – little knowledge of the disappearances in the area. The mention of the Vrahnas, or Dagon, the stick figure that haunted dreams, only resulted in the superstitious locals clamming up, wide-eyed with fear.

They bought a lunch of fruit, meat and cheese, although the cheese was warm and unpleasant to the Englishmen’s' palates and Sir Richard regretted eating it as he recalled his earlier nightmare. A few cups of wine helped them digest the food but eventually, Sir Richard grew tired of the stifling heat and led them back to St Luke's, downcast and wondering how they'd ever get anywhere with this investigation if the locals wouldn't co-operate.

When they got back to the church buildings it was early evening and a young family were talking to Father Vitus. After a while Athenais led the small group off and the priest came across to talk to the Hospitallers who had waited by the front door to speak to him.

“Visitors?” Sir Richard wondered.

The priest nodded. “Travellers from the city. They're going to visit family on the far end of the island and sought a place to stay for the night. A bed here costs a lot less than a bed at an inn.” He shrugged and fixed Sir Richard with an accusatory look. “Many people on the island are poor.”

The knight knew Father Vitus was suggesting the Hospitallers persecuted and held down the Orthodox Christians on the island but he was experienced enough not to rise to the bait.

“We're getting nowhere with the villagers – no one wants to offer any information and it's obvious they're all afraid of this cult or whatever it is.”

“Maybe,” the Greek nodded. “Or maybe they just don't know anything.”

“Whatever. We'll go out again at night and see if we can find a lead, but I expect we'll be back early.”

* * *

Sir Richard's words proved prophetic and the Hospitallers were back in their room in St Luke's long before midnight. The locals proved just as unhelpful at night as they had during the oppressively hot day – more so in fact, as the absence of sunlight made the atmosphere appear even more threatening. So they returned to the church dejectedly and, after a frugal supper of bread and boiled eggs that they found in the little kitchen – presumably left out by the housekeeper who, like Father Vitus was nowhere to be seen – they said their evening prayers and climbed into their beds.

“I'll sleep with one eye open,” Jacob said to his master as they lay in the humid darkness awaiting sleep. “If you dream of the Vrahnas, or Dagon, or anything like that, just grunt and I'll wake you up.”

Sir Richard laughed softly. “I'll try,” he replied. “It's not as easy as you'd think – when the dream came to me I was pinned down and couldn't move a muscle, even the ones in my mouth. Go to sleep and don't worry about me though, I'm sure my sleep will be fine tonight.”

The scream roused Jacob a while later. Only a small sliver of moonlight illuminated the room but it was just enough for the sergeant-at-arms to find his master and roughly shake him to try and break the nightmare he feared Sir Richard was trapped inside.

“Alright, alright!” The knight shoved Jacob's hands away. “What are you doing you madman?”

“I heard a cry,” Jacob replied, lifting his sword that stood by his own bed and pulling it from its leather and wood sheath. “It woke me up. I assumed it was you.”

Sir Richard lay his head back down on the straw mattress in exhaustion. “I think you're the one that's having bad dreams tonight,” he muttered. “Maybe the eggs disagreed with you.”

“I don't think it was a nightmare,” Jacob shook his head. “Something definitely woke me...”

He stopped in mid-sentence and looked across at Sir Richard who had sat bolt-upright in the blackness as another pained cry filtered through their thick wooden door.

The knight jumped from the bed, grasping his own blade and ordered Jacob to follow him as they unlatched the door and cautiously made their way into the corridor outside their room.

The stone floor was surprisingly cold and both men felt the hairs on the back of their necks rise as they stared into the inky darkness of St Luke's.

“Help me!”

The scream allowed Sir Richard to get his bearings and he led his sergeant along the corridor, towards the room Athenais had taken the family from earlier to.

“Help me, please help me!”

The voice – a woman's – came again and this time they heard children's voices adding to the noise.

“There!” Jacob pointed at a sliver of light that was shining from under a doorway in front of them. “It's coming from in there.”

Sir Richard tried to open the door but it was locked from inside, so he hammered the pommel of his sword against the door. “Open up! Open the door in the name of Christ!”

Again there was another scream, this time coming from the woman and all the children that were inside the room and the Hospitaller had had enough.

“Stand back!” he roared. “Get away from the door, we're coming in!”

Without waiting for a reply Sir Richard leaned backwards, lifted his right leg and rammed his foot against the thick door, just beside the latch.

The wood held up but the latch was flimsy and, with a crack of splitting metal the door burst open and the knight moved carefully into the room, his longsword held defensively before him as Jacob following at his back, his own blade held at the ready.

“What's going on in here?” the knight demanded, eyes searching the room for any threat but finding nothing obvious.

The terrified woman pointed at her husband who lay on the bed, unmoving, and Sir Richard shuddered slightly at the expression on the man's face. He was clearly dead, although there didn't appear to be a wound on him, but his eyes were open and his expression was frozen in one of sheer terror.

The children cried and hid their faces against their mother's side, her thin arms squeezing them protectively as the tears streaked her tired face.

Jacob moved around the room, searching for an enemy as Sir Richard asked, more gently this time, what had happened to the man.

“He began groaning in his sleep,” she replied, her voice almost cracking. “It woke me up and I tried to shake him awake but he just kept making that noise, getting louder and louder. Then...” She stopped, shaking fearfully, “his eyes opened and he screamed as if he could see something in the room. I thought he must be dreaming – having a nightmare – but I turned to show him there was nothing there and...”

“Devil!” one of the children cried out, little knuckles white as he gripped his mother's arm, “the Devil was here – it killed our daddy!”

Sir Richard and Jacob glanced at each other, both thinking the same thing: Dagon.

Father Vitus appeared in the doorway, his dark eyes calmly taking in the scene before he moved across to the family and, kneeling beside them, began the Lord's Prayer in an attempt to comfort them. “Pater imon, o en tis ouranis, aghiasthito to onoma sou; eltheto i vasilia sou; ghenithito to thelima sou, os en ourano, ke epi tis ghis...”

“The devil
was
here,” the Greek woman nodded tearfully over the drone of Father Vitus's voice. “Huge and thin he was, like a horrible insect without any face, and he...” She broke down again as she looked across at her dead husband's terror-stricken face. “He did that! On holy ground too, how could this happen!”

Sir Richard and Jacob examined the dead man as the little priest tried to soothe the angry, terrified woman, but they could find no visible cause of death. Eventually, the Hospitaller closed the man's eyelids respectfully and made the sign of the cross, saying a silent prayer for his soul.

“Whatever happened,” the knight straightened up and addressed the priest and the frightened, grieving woman, “there's no devil here now. We're sorry for your loss, and if we can do anything to help, you have but to ask. Come, Jacob, let's return to our room and leave these people alone to grieve.”

The sound of Father Vitus's calm prayers followed them along the corridor as they returned to their room. Sir Richard shook his head, imagining he could detect a note of triumph – or perhaps it was pleasure – in the little Greek's voice.

* * *

The Hospitallers didn't sleep much for the rest of the night. A strange thumping noise seemed to fill the air outside periodically, apparently coming from somewhere nearby yet deep underground. Sir Richard knew there must be a prosaic explanation for the noise – a local mine working through the night perhaps – but the unearthly sound was unsettling, particularly for the superstitious Jacob, and especially after the events of earlier.

As the pair made their way to the small dining area in the morning they quietly discussed what might await them. Athenais was there, and she'd laid on a large but simple breakfast for the two soldiers, but when Sir Richard tried to find out what was happening with the bereaved family the girl simply shrugged her slim shoulders and said she didn't know anything about it.

“That little bastard's got her scared,” Jacob growled when the girl left the room to complete the rest of her duties around the house. 

Sir Richard offered no reply. Athenais did seem somewhat subdued around them, and Father Vitus's veiled looks whenever he saw her suggested there might be some truth to his sergeant's fears but, well, it was nothing to do with them. They were here to find out why three of their brothers had disappeared, not to get involved in the relationship between the priest and his housekeeper, whatever it might be.

They finished their meal with no sign of the family or Father Vitus – to Sir Richard's annoyance, as he'd wanted to question the priest in detail about the night's events – and so they left the church to continue their investigation at the local market, hoping for more success than they'd enjoyed the day before.

“You, sir! My lord!” A trader spied them as they wandered around the dusty streets, smile bright against his dark complexion, ingratiating and false as he hurried over in the hope of making a sale. “You look like men who have seen much evil. I have just the thing you need!” He opened his grubby jacket to reveal an assortment of poor quality jewellery. “Any of these will bring you good luck and protect you from harm. A man like you surely needs protection from the forces of darkness!” He gazed at Sir Richard slyly and the knight was struck by the man's pupils which were unnaturally dark given the bright sun that blazed overhead.