The Templar Detective and the Unholy Exorcist Page 4

  “If it will shut you up, I’d let her marry the bloody horse.”

  Isabelle snickered, but a glare from her mother put an end to it.

  “Tomorrow, you will go to Garnier and apologize. The poor boy doesn’t deserve what you did.”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  “And I want this nonsense with Thomas to stop.”

  Isabelle didn’t respond.

  “Did you hear me?”

  “Yes.”

  “And?”

  “And I’ll move to Paris, marry him, and you’ll never hear from me again.” She glared back at her mother. “Is that what you want?”

  Before her mother could respond, there was a sound outside that had them all cocking an ear.

  “What the Devil is that?” asked her father first.

  Her mother growled. “It better not be another fool asking us to come outside and hear some preacher while dinner is being prepared!”

  Isabelle shivered as her heart hammered. “It sounds like something from church.”

  Her mother rose, heading for the front door. “Latin?”

  Isabelle nodded, joining her mother as she opened the door.

  She screamed.

  Her father leaped to his feet, rushing to join them as Isabelle slowly backed away from a group of monks, all holding torches, approaching the doorway. She couldn’t understand their words, she couldn’t see their faces to see their lips moving, but they were chanting something in unison, something with words she recognized from the prayer services she attended every Sunday.

  “What business do you have here?” demanded her father.

  “Give us the one named Isabelle Leblanc.”

  Isabelle paled as her mother put a protective arm over her shoulders, the sound of her name spoken by so many in unison, sapping almost all her strength.

  “What do you want with her? She’s just a girl! Be off with you!”

  Isabelle and her mother backed away from the door as the monks advanced, the Latin chant continuing, getting louder as they approached.

  “Give us the one named Isabelle Leblanc,” they repeated a second time as their prayer ended. It was a terrifying sound, and if she were to imagine what evil sounded like, it was this. The prayer repeated, several of the monks on the porch now, continuing to slowly walk forward. Her father slammed the door shut, dropping the bar in place. He backed away as the demand for her was repeated, followed by the hammering of what must have been fists on the door, then the entire front of their small home. Everything rattled from the pounding, and Isabelle screamed as a glass crashed onto the floor.

  Her mother held her tight, the Lord’s prayer rapidly recited in a whisper, and Isabelle sobbed as she joined in. They backed into the farthest corner from the door, her father with his arms stretched out, shielding them from whatever horrors lay on the other side as the chant continued, the voices of the monks rising with each repetition.

  Then the door was kicked in, and as the monks streamed inside, crosses held in front of them, their faces cloaked in darkness, a blood-curdling scream erupted from someone, and it took her a moment before she realized it was her. Her father surged forward, his fists swinging, but he was quickly overwhelmed.

  “Father!” she cried as her mother took his place, putting herself between her daughter and her assailants, yet she was no match for the powerful men who shoved her aside. Isabelle screamed as the monks grabbed her by the arms then the legs, lifting her up over their heads as she struggled against them. “Father! Help me!” She caught a glimpse of him as he reached for her, his forehead bloodied, his expression one of shame at not having protected her.

  “Isabelle!” cried her mother, rushing toward her before being backhanded by one of the monks. The last glimpse Isabelle had of her was her poor mother crashing into the table and collapsing to the floor.

  “Please! Let me go! I’ve done nothing wrong!”

  She continued to struggle, then caught sight of someone whose very presence rocked her to her core.

  Garnier, standing off to the side, his shoulders rounded inward, his chin buried in his chest.

  As if he were ashamed of what he had done.

  “Garnier! Help me! Please!”

  But he said nothing, and he did nothing. Instead, he merely followed her, still held up in the air, over the heads of the monks who had stolen her from her family home.

  She spotted others from the village lining the road and she struggled even harder. “Please, help me! They’re taking me!”

  And they too did nothing.

  What is going on here?

  “Why won’t you help me? Please! I beg of you!”

  She heard something ahead and raised her head to see a large fire in the center of the village, along with a crowd made of her neighbors and friends.

  And she breathed a sigh of relief.

  Surely, they’ll put an end to this! Look how many there are!

  She was lowered, then pushed to her knees in the cold snow, its icy chill swiftly making its presence felt as she was not dressed for the outdoors. Her eyes roamed the crowd as she pleaded for help, but instead, she was met with horrified stares.

  What’s happening?

  A man approached in a long dark robe, his vestments unmistakable. This was a priest. She reached out for him.

  “Please, Father, help me! These men, they took me from my home! Please, Father, I’ve done nothing wrong!”

  But he too said nothing, instead walking around her as she was held in place by two of the monks, the others having joined even more as they formed a larger circle around her, the torches and fire revealing a strange wagon nearby.

  And she gasped at what was inside.

  Women, all staring through the bars of the cage that held them, all as terrified as she was.

  This makes no sense! What have I done?

  “You see how beautiful she is,” said the priest, still circling. “Her beauty is indeed uncommon.” He stopped, suddenly jabbing a finger at her. “I say it is the work of the Devil himself!”

  The crowd, her neighbors, gasped in shock, recoiling as if she were afflicted with some contagion. She struggled against the men holding her, realizing that no one here would help her. She was on her own, abandoned by the ones she had thought cared for her.

  “See how she struggles? See how the demon inside is desperate to escape? For it knows its end is nigh, and that soon it will be cast back into the depths of Hell, once the exorcism is complete.”

  Demon? What was the man talking about? Did he think she was possessed somehow? She stopped her struggles, trying not to give him any excuse for his false impression, and forced as calm a voice as she could. “Please, Father, I’m not a demon. I’m not possessed. Please just let me go home to my family.”

  The priest laughed, shaking his head then turning to the crowd. “You see the trickery? First, she struggles and cries out, then she tries to fool us by being calm. This is the Devil himself at work, my good people, and he must be stopped.”

  Isabelle’s heart sank as she realized there was nothing she could do. No matter how she acted, or what she said, it would be twisted into whatever he wanted.

  But that wasn’t what had her losing hope.

  It was the reaction of those that surrounded them, the reaction on the faces of those she had known her entire life.

  They believed him.

  “But there is one last way we can prove it.”

  Isabelle watched as the priest went to the strange wagon. He reached inside and stepped back with a chain in his hand, then the strangest creature she had ever seen walked out of the cage, on all fours, yet upside down, her arms and legs twisted unnaturally as guttural grunts and barks erupted as she spat the vilest of things at the priest and the others.

  She screamed in horror at what was obviously a beast from hell, no matter how much it might loosely resemble a woman. No person could move like that, no person could sound like that.

  “See! It is as I said! They recogn
ize each other! Your poor Isabelle recognizes the evil here, and knows that I recognize it! The demon inside her knows that its time has come!”

  The thing on the chain rushed toward her, crawling like an upturned spider, if that were at all possible, a strange language shouted at her in a voice far too deep to be human. Isabelle recoiled, the grips on her arms tightening as she struggled to get away from whatever this thing was.

  The priest pointed. “See, she speaks the tongue of demons to her fellow spirit. She would not do so if your beautiful Isabelle’s soul had not been possessed.” He spun dramatically to face the crowd, one hand held out with the chain restraining the creature, the other pointing to Isabelle. “But there is still time! I must take her to my church. Only there can I perform the exorcism and rid her of this evil that has taken over her body. Do I have your blessing, my good people?”

  Fists pumped the air as shouts of approval surrounded her. She watched in horror as more joined in, and within moments everyone she had ever known or loved was shouting, “Save her! Save her!”

  “Please, no! There’s nothing wrong with me! He’s wrong!” She struggled against the monks holding her to no avail. “Please! You know me!”

  One of the monks took the chain held by the priest and led the creature back into the wagon as those holding Isabelle dragged her toward the prison on wheels. She was shoved into the back, stumbling forward and falling into the mess that was the floor of the wagon. She struggled to turn back for the door, but it was slammed shut and locked. She pushed to the bars, shoving her head through as the monks tossed their torches onto the fire, the crowd still chanting their support.

  Tears rolled down her cheeks at the betrayal, and the priest’s final words were lost on her. He climbed onto the front of the wagon and they began to move, the monks, now on horseback, surrounding them. She spotted Garnier and reached out for him.

  “Please, Garnier! Help me!”

  But again, he did nothing, only shame on his face.

  Then he abruptly turned and darted into the darkness, her last hope gone.

  7

  De Rancourt Residence

  Crécy-la-Chapelle, Kingdom of France

  “So, are you thinking of leaving the Order?”

  David glanced at Jeremy then returned his attention to shoveling the never-ending supply of dung from the animals and his friend. “I don’t know. What do you think?”

  Jeremy shrugged. “I don’t know either. A year ago, it never would have even occurred to me to leave. I love being a Templar. I love my brothers. And one day I hoped to be a sergeant.”

  David paused, staring at his friend. “Really? We both could be sergeants by now, but instead, we both chose to remain with Sir Marcus long ago.”

  Jeremy frowned then tossed some hay onto the cleaned floor. “I suppose you’re right. I guess we did give up our ambitions years ago.”

  “Ambition is a sin.”

  Jeremy leaned on his pitchfork. “Is it? I can never remember them all.”

  David grunted. “Perhaps then you wouldn’t have passed the test to become sergeant.”

  Jeremy lunged playfully at him with the pitchfork. “Like you’d have done any better.”

  David threatened his friend with a load of cow patties, Jeremy wisely surrendering. “I’ve always been happy serving Sir Marcus. It’s been so long, I know no different, and honestly, I don’t want to know any different.”

  “But things have changed.”

  “You’re right, they have. Not in my desire to serve our master, of course, but does serving him mean I have to remain within the Order?”

  Jeremy shrugged. “What if the master is called back to duty? You wouldn’t be able to accompany him.”

  David’s eyebrows rose. “I suppose you’re right. Though do you think he might be?”

  Jeremy shrugged again. “I don’t know. It’s possible though. And remember the privileges. How many times have we availed ourselves of Templar outposts over the past months? You would no longer have access to these things, which means you wouldn’t be as useful to our master.”

  David’s eyes widened as he thought of how much he still relied on the brotherhood he had devoted his life to, and how much that brotherhood, and his access to its services, helped his master. He sighed. “It would have been nice to have a wife, I think.”

  Jeremy frowned. “I think there are aspects that could be fun, shall we say, but I’ve never understood women, nor do I desire to. Have you heard them down there? They never stop talking! They never stop ordering us around. Would you want that every hour of the day, just so you could bounce on top of them at night?”

  David chuckled. “And I’ve heard that they don’t always let you unless they’re in the mood.”

  “Really? I thought Father Fischer in Acre always said that women’s sole purpose was to tempt man, and they used sex as their weapon to draw us away from our vows.”

  David shrugged. “How would he know? He took the same vows as us.”

  Jeremy pursed his lips. “I’ve always wondered about that. How—”

  “Help! Help! Anyone! I need help!”

  David dropped his pitchfork and rushed out of the barn, Jeremy on his heels, and peered into the darkness. He spotted a dark figure on the snow at the bottom of the hill, waving his arms frantically as he stumbled and fell, struggling to regain his feet. “That has to be Garnier.”

  “They’ve taken Isabelle!”

  David and Jeremy exchanged glances then rushed down the hill. The door to the home opened, Lady Joanne appearing in the doorway. “What’s the meaning of this? Don’t you realize the hour? Like I’ve already said, we have no intention of hearing some priest when there are children to be fed!”

  David wasn’t sure what she was talking about. Evidently, there had been visitors earlier he wasn’t aware of, and judging from Garnier’s state, one thing likely had nothing to do with the other. He grabbed the panicking boy by the shoulders. “What is it? What happened to Isabelle?”

  “I did a terrible thing! Oh God, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to! I was just so angry over what she said.”

  Lady Joanne pulled them all inside and out of the cold. “Never mind that. What happened?”

  “There was a priest and these monks. He was looking for people possessed by demons.”

  Lady Joanne shoved the boy into a chair then sat across from him. “You mean an exorcist? Is that what Rene was on about earlier when he was trying to get us to come with him?”

  Garnier shrugged. “I don’t know what an exorcist is.”

  “It doesn’t matter. What happened to Isabelle?”

  “He said that beautiful women could be possessed, and asked if there were any in the village who were both beautiful and acting differently. In my embarrassed state, I did something horrible.”

  David grabbed him by the shoulder, shoving him back in his chair. “What did you do?”

  “I-I named her.”

  Joanne and Beatrice both gasped. Beatrice grabbed him by the hair, hauling him closer to her. “How could you do that, you stupid little fool!”

  “I’m sorry! As soon as her name was out of my mouth, I knew I had gone too far, but then everyone started to agree that she could be possessed.”

  Joanne folded her arms. “I can’t believe that. So, what happened?”

  “They made me take them to her house. They took her then put her in the back of a strange wagon, one with an enclosed cage made of metal bars, I think.”

  David’s jaw dropped. “You mean they’ve actually taken her with them?”

  Garnier nodded, tears streaking his face. “Yes. She’s gone.”

  “How long ago?”

  “Not long. As long as it took me to run here from the center of the village and explain it to you.”

  David turned to Jeremy. “Three horses, minimal provisions, just weapons.”

  “Five minutes.” Jeremy sprinted out the door, the mastiff Tanya following.

  “Which direct
ion did they go?”

  “South.”

  “How many?”

  “How many what?”

  David swatted him on the back of the head. “How many men?”

  Garnier cowered, holding up his hands. “I’m not sure. A dozen maybe? They were all dressed as monks, but they weren’t like any monks I’ve ever seen. They attacked Mr. and Mrs. Leblanc. Monks wouldn’t do that, would they?”

  David shook his head. “No, I wouldn’t think so. Where did they say they were taking her?”

  “The priest said he was taking them to his church, then they’d be returned after he had performed some ritual to remove the demons possessing them.”

  “Them?”

  “Yes, there were others in the wagon.”

  “How many?”

  “I have no idea. At least several.”

  “And he said they would be returned when he was done with them?”

  Garnier’s face brightened. “Yes! Yes, it’s true! That’s a good thing, right? I mean, it means they don’t intend to harm her?”

  David pursed his lips. “Let’s hope so, but there’s still the matter of her abduction. We have to get her back, and I’m not so sure they’ll agree to that.” He stopped himself from cursing. “At least a dozen?”

  “Yes.”

  David shook his head. “Then I don’t see how we can do anything but try and reason with them.”

  “Horses are ready!”

  David hauled Garnier to his feet. “You’re coming with us.”

  Garnier appeared horrified at the suggestion. “Wh-why?”

  “Because this is your fault. You need to tell them that you were wrong.”

  Garnier nodded, his entire body trembling as David shoved him out the door. Tanya growled at the young man, her keen senses telling her who was the source of all the commotion. David pointed inside. “Stay here. Guard the women and children.”

  Tanya stared up at him, panting.

  “Inside. Now.”

  She dropped her head and obeyed, though was clearly not pleased about it.

  David mounted his horse and turned to Lady Joanne. “We’ll be back as soon as we can. If something goes wrong and we don’t, get word to Sir Marcus and tell him everything you just heard.”