The Fickle Winds of Autumn

Caldor’s thoughts ruffled and brooded - he was not accustomed to receiving guests into his apartments so late in the evening - and never in all his years at the Cathedral had the Librarian asked for admittance to his private study.

Perhaps the recent shocking events had disturbed her in some manner?Content © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.

She was, after all, merely a woman.

There really was no way of telling how a murder, so close to her own living quarters, might have affected her mind.

He thumbed the pages of his leather-bound book.

He did have some very important research to do - but the Librarian was usually a sober and level-headed woman - and clearly it must be an urgent matter if she had chosen to disturb him at such a time.

He placed a marker in the tome and clasped the book to him as he sat back into the depths of his soft chair; the comfortable furnishings of the room embraced him, as was only fitting for one of his high rank.

He studied the Librarian carefully as she entered and stood before his desk.

Her grey shoulder-length hair was undisturbed; the wrinkles around her face betrayed no obvious signs of hysteria.

Her silver key-necklace glinted in the lamp-light.

“Thank you for seeing me so late in the day, my reverend lord,” she said, “but I bring news of a most troubling matter, and one which I felt would best be discussed in the privacy of your chambers.”

More news?

On an evening already so full of bustling events?

His interest flickered and kindled.

“Please continue, my child,” he said.

“As you may know, it was I who discovered the murder of Talmadge earlier this evening - he had requested some rather obscure scrolls from the Library - I had just come upon them, and was taking them to his room personally, as they seemed so urgent. As I approached, I couldn’t help but overhear raised voices inside…”

Had the woman simply come to inform him of some gossip and hearsay?

Surely she realised he had far more important business to attend?

“...it seems that Talmadge had discovered that the girl who was with him is a witch of some sort - and he intended to use the Quillon to kill her.”

Caldor sat forward.

“A witch, you say? Here in the very heart of the Church? Impossible! How could such a creature ever get through the Vallum? No, it cannot be - you have either misheard, or as the boy said in the Chamber of Arbitration, Talmadge had gone mad with the star-taint.”

“I agree, my lord, it does seem unlikely - but Talmadge was a very powerful magikant - perhaps he had somehow found a way to smuggle her in past the protective, shielding properties of the Vallum?”

There was no denying the abilities of Talmadge - however untrustworthy his motives.

Caldor’s fingers smoothed across the skin of his book.

He was busy, and he felt the pull of his studies again.

Besides, what could he do about such things now?

“Well, the depravity of Talmadge in bringing such a viper into our nest is truly shocking - but it is of little matter now - the girl, or witch, is undoubtedly guilty of murder - she will be sentenced to death at the trial tomorrow - I will use all my influence to make sure of it - and that will be the end of the issue.”

His fingers searched for the marked page; he looked down at the book; but the Librarian did not retreat from his room.

“Perhaps, my lord, but as we heard earlier, the boy claims that the girl is innocent - we cannot be certain which way the trial may go…”

It was possible she could be right.

There was just no knowing what that sentimental fool Steadman might be thinking - what ways he could dream up to bungle the trial, or fly in the face of the sacred, venerated culture and traditions of the Church.

“... and in any case,” the Librarian continued, “Talmadge seemed to believe that she was such a powerful being that only the Quillon would succeed in ending her life. I’m concerned that the execution will have no effect on her - it may simply make her angry and perhaps even more dangerous than before. Talmadge seemed to believe that the girl might even be connected to the recent witch attacks in some way, and could pose a threat to the entire Church, and us all, if she is not stopped.”

Caldor closed his book and looked up again.

“You truly believe that one witch could be so powerful?” he asked.

“Well, as you may recall, Talmadge had been given permission to research in all sections of the Library - even the section on Presage - his theory would certainly seem to resonate with the scrolls he had been studying.”

Yes - Steadman had insisted on giving the old magikant full access to the Library.

Perhaps Steadman himself was even involved in some way?

He was known to always favour Talmadge - even after the assassination of the old Patrex.

And there were always those persistent rumours that Steadman and Talmadge had arranged things together to help Steadman usurp the leadership of the Church.

Did Steadman know about this witch?

Had he become corrupted by Talmadge’s influence?

He did seem keen to halt the trial earlier.

Perhaps this was the true price of his election as Patrex?

An election which many believed, he, Caldor, deserved to have won.

Caldor sat forward and put his book of Oecumenical Law down on the desk.

“Then, if this witch is truly as dangerous as you suspect - if there is even a small chance that she is behind the recent desecrations of our glorious Church and our congregations - then we have a clear duty to the Church to act. Could we not use the Quillon to stop this creature ourselves? Where is it now?”

“I have it here, safe in my pocket,” the Librarian tapped her jacket side. “Luckily, despite the shock of such an awful scene, I had the sense to pick it up - it would not do to leave such a powerful artefact lying around for anyone to find - there’s no knowing what chaos it could have caused.”

He should not have doubted her earlier - the Librarian was undoubtedly a worthy and capable woman.

“And do you know how to use it against this foul creature?” he asked.

“I did briefly peruse some of the scrolls myself, my lord - they mention that only a magikant could wield the Quillon against the witch successfully - and of course, with the death of the Harmonist and now Talmadge, we no longer have access to a person of such power.”

Caldor smoothed his hand across his chin. His eyes flashed briefly about the room.

“A magikant you say? It is possible I might know of a suitable candidate,” he said.

“And the ritual to kill the witch must be amplified by a portal of some sort,” the Librarian concluded.

A disruptive surge of disappointment rippled across his shoulders.

This was most nettlesome.

“But the Sacred Grove is too far to travel,” he said, “these dreadful witch attacks mean it is not safe to journey so far abroad. The only true safety is here, beneath the shielding sanctuary of the Vallum - although now I learn that even this is no longer the case.”

“Oh, but there is somewhere much closer, most gracious lord,” the Librarian suggested, “the old graveyard across the clapper bridge, beyond the South Door. The ancient scrolls tell that it was once a very powerful place of magik, the equal of the Sacred Grove - that indeed is why the Cathedral itself was originally built here - but when the Grove was discovered, the portal gradually fell out of favour and came to be used as a burial site for the Harmonists because it was believed that their magik would be reabsorbed back into the hallowed ground and lend extra power to future users; and when even these old ways became lost, it was used as a resting place for the Patrex and other members of the Pleiad.”

“I see, most interesting,” Caldor said. “I had often considered it odd that the bridge had been built without any water - I assumed that perhaps there had once been a stream there which had become diverted some years ago.”

“No, my lord, the bridge was always built over dry land - it spans the henge ditch which separates the portal from the ordinary soil - and now separates the living from the dead.”

Caldor rubbed his palm across his chin again and stood.

“Then we must act - the fate of our most glorious Church may depend on it. We wouldn’t need to venture too far - the Vallum ends just at the foot of the bridge - the execution would be over and done before anyone realised the prisoners were even missing.”

“The prisoners, my lord? You suspect the boy as well?”

“He is a magikant - and he was under the tutelage of Talmadge - no doubt he too has been corrupted by impure machinations. It would be expedient to end this all now, and extinguish any possible accomplices, rather than risk the continued threat of such a conspiracy of dark necromancy to our Mother Church. And let us not forget that the boy himself has already confessed to murder - there can be no doubt as to his most fitting punishment.”

“A wise step, my lord.”

“And, am I right in thinking that as the Librarian, you are also the keeper of the Church’s official chronicles? Perhaps it would be seemly for you to attend in person, in order to witness these momentous events for yourself, so that your written account, which will live for all posterity, may be all the more accurate.”

“I am honoured, my lord - and of course, I will be certain to give proper credit to those who are deserving. Do you think we should alert the Patrex to this development? I did think of going directly to him, but he seems so busy and tired these days, I did not wish to burden him further.”

A sharp chill drained through Caldor’s body.

They could not risk alerting Steadman to the execution - if he was in on Talmadge’s plan, he would try to stop them somehow.

And even if he was ignorant of the witch’s presence, Steadman lacked the clarity of vision to see what must be done to protect the Church and its values; he did not possess the bold foresight, the knowledge and respect of the rightful traditions, to rid the land of this pestilence of witches and usher in a new era of glory for the Church.

“No, no,” he said, “we need not trouble the Patrex with this matter - you have done the right thing in bringing it directly to my attention. I will act decisively to save our most glorious Church and bring an end to this devious witch.”