"The Spook's Curse" - читать интересную книгу автора (Delaney Joseph)

CHAPTER 6

A Pact With hell Giving myself plenty of time, I walked slowly through the damp, cobbled streets. My palms were clammy with nerves and my feet seemed reluctant to move towards the cathedral. It was as if they were wiser than I was and I had to keep forcing one foot in front of the other. But the evening was chilly, and luckily there weren’t many people about. I didn’t pass even one priest.

I arrived at the cathedral at about ten minutes to seven and as I walked through the gate into the big flagged forecourt, I couldn’t help glancing up at the gargoyle over the main door. The ugly head seemed bigger than ever and the eyes still seemed wick with life; they followed me as I walked towards the door. The long chin curved upwards so much that it almost met the nose, making it unlike any creature I’d ever seen. As well as the dog-like ears and a long tongue protruding from its mouth, two short horns curved upwards from its skull and it suddenly reminded me of a goat.

I looked away and entered the cathedral, shivering at the sheer strangeness of the creature. Inside the building it took a few moments for my eyes to adjust to the gloom, and to my relief I saw that the place was almost empty.

I was afraid though for two reasons. Firstly I didn’t like being in the cathedral, where priests could appear at any moment. If Father Cairns was tricking me then I had just walked straight into his trap. Secondly I was now in the Bane’s territory. Soon the day would draw in, and once the sun went down the Bane, like all creatures of the dark, would be at its most dangerous. Perhaps then its mind might reach up from the catacombs and seek me out. I had to get this business over with as quickly as possible.

Where was the confessional? There were just a couple of old ladies at the back of the cathedral, but an old man was kneeling near the front, close to the small door of a wooden box that stood with its back to the stone wall.

That told me what I wanted to know. There was an identical box a bit further along. The confessional boxes. Each had a candle fixed above it set within a blue glass holder. But only the one near the kneeling man was lit.

I walked down the right-hand aisle and knelt in the pew behind him. After a few moments the door to the confessional box opened and a woman wearing a black veil came out. She crossed the aisle and knelt in a pew further back while the old man went inside.

After a few moments I could hear him muttering. I’d never been to confession in my life but I had a pretty good idea of what went on. One of Dad’s brothers had become very religious before he’d died. Dad always called him ‘Holy Joe’ but his real name was Matthew. He went to confession twice a week and after hearing his sins the priest gave him a big penance. That meant that afterwards he had to say lots of prayers over and over again. I supposed the old man was telling the priest about his sins.

The door stayed closed for what seemed an age and I started to grow impatient. Another thought struck me: what if it wasn’t Father Cairns inside but some other priest? I really would have to make a confession then or it would seem very suspicious. I tried to think of a few sins that might sound convincing. Was greed a sin? Or did you call it gluttony? Well, I certainly liked my food but I’d had nothing to eat all day and my belly was starting to rumble. Suddenly it seemed madness to be doing this. In moments I could end up a prisoner.

I panicked and stood up to leave. It was only then that I noticed with relief a small card slotted into a holder on the door. A name was written on it: Father CAIRNS.

At that moment the door opened and the old man came out, so I took his place in the confessional and closed the door behind me. It was small and gloomy inside, and when I knelt down, my face was very close to a metal grille. Behind the grille was a brown curtain and, somewhere beyond that, a flickering candle. I couldn’t see a face through the grille, just the shadowy outline of a head.

‘Would you like me to hear your confession?’ The priest’s voice had a strong County accent and he breathed loudly.

I just shrugged. Then I realized that he couldn’t see me properly through the grille. ‘No, Father,’ I said, ‘but thank you for asking. I’m Tom, Mr Gregory’s apprentice. You wanted to see me.’

There was a slight pause before Father Cairns spoke. ‘Ah, Thomas, I’m glad you came. I asked you here because I need to talk to you. I need to tell you something very important, so I want you to stay here until I’ve finished. Will you promise me that you won’t leave until I’ve said what I have to say?’

‘I’ll listen,’ I replied doubtfully. I was wary of making promises now. In the spring I’d made a promise to Alice and it had got me in a whole lot of trouble.

‘That’s a good lad,’ he said. ‘We’ve made a good start to an important task. And do you know what that task is?’

I wondered whether he was talking about the Bane but thought it best not to mention that creature so close to the catacombs, so I said, ‘No, Father.’

‘Well, Thomas, we have to put together a plan. We have to work out how we can save your immortal soul. But you know what you have to do to begin the process, don’t you? You must walk away from John Gregory. You must cease practising that vile trade. Will you do that for me?’

‘I thought you wanted to see me about helping Mr Gregory,’ I said, starting to feel angry. ‘I thought he was in danger.’

‘He is, Thomas. We are here to help John Gregory but we must begin by helping you. So will you do what I ask?’

‘I can’t,’ I said. ‘My dad paid good money for my apprenticeship and my mam would be even more disappointed. She says I’ve a gift and I have to use it to help people. That’s what spooks do. We go round helping people when they’re in danger from things that come out of the dark.’

There was a long silence. All I could hear was the priest’s breathing. Then I thought of something else.

‘I helped Father Gregory, you know,’ I blurted out. ‘He died later, it’s true, but I saved him from a worse death. At least he died in bed, in the warmth. He tried to get rid of a boggart,’ I explained, raising my voice a little. ‘That’s what got him into trouble in the first place. Mr Gregory could have sorted it out for him. He can do things that a priest can’t. Priests can’t get rid of boggarts because they don’t know how. It takes more than just a few prayers.’

I knew that I shouldn’t have said that about prayers and I expected him to get very angry. He didn’t. He kept calm and that made it seem a whole lot worse.

‘Oh, yes, it takes much more,’ Father Cairns answered quietly, his voice hardly more than a whisper. ‘Much, much more. Do you know what John Gregory’s secret is, Thomas? Do you know the source of his power?’

‘Yes,’ I said, my own voice suddenly much calmer. ‘He’s studied for years, for the whole of his working life. He’s got a whole library full of books and he did an apprenticeship like me and he listened carefully to what his master said and wrote it down in notebooks, just like I do now.’

‘Don’t you think that we do the same? It takes long, long years to train for the priesthood. And priests are clever men being trained by even cleverer men. So how did you accomplish what Father Gregory couldn’t, despite the fact that he read from God’s holy book? How do you explain the fact that your master routinely does what his brother could not?’

‘It’s because priests have the wrong kind of training,’ I said. ‘And it’s because my master and I are both seventh sons of seventh sons.’

The priest made a strange noise behind the grille. At first I thought he was choking; then I realized I could hear laughter. He was laughing at me.

I thought that was very rude. My dad always says that you should respect other people’s opinions even if they sometimes seem daft.

‘That’s just superstition, Thomas,’ Father Cairns said at last. ‘Being the seventh son of a seventh son means nothing. It’s just an old wives’ tale. The true explanation for John Gregory’s power is something so terrible that it makes me shudder just to think about it. You see, John Gregory has made a pact with Hell. He’s sold his soul to the Devil.’

I couldn’t believe what he was saying. When I opened my mouth, no words came out so I just kept shaking my head.

‘It’s true, Thomas. All his power comes from the Devil. What you and other County folk call boggarts are just lesser devils who only yield because their master bids them do that. It’s worth it to the Devil because, in return, one day he’ll get hold of John Gregory’s soul. And a soul is precious to God, a thing of brightness and splendour, and the Devil will do anything to dirty it with sin and drag it down into the eternal flames of Hell.’

‘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 dealing 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.