Chapter 3: New Additions

"Now this is what I'm talkin' 'bout." Dismas smiled as pawed through the bag of glittering coins.

A hand smacked down on the velvet bag, making the highwayman jerk back as Charles pulled it out of reach. "I'll thank you not to touch part of my family's fortune like a hungry dog searching for a bone." The man snapped as he moved the bag to the other side of the desk he was sitting at. "We'll be needing it and more besides I fear."

The pair were sitting in the office of the Lord's house in the center of the town, the building being one of the few that had been kept in relative repair compared to the rest. The homes of the townsfolk had been better taken care of but most of the structures that made up the hamlet's business such as the guild hall, tavern, and blacksmith, had been eyesores. While Dismas had remained at the Caretaker's to heal Charles had walked about the town, letting all of the people know who he was and why he had come. Most had been somewhat happy to see a fresh face and the fact that he was the Lord's Heir, and apparently in his right mind, made many smile, though somewhat hesitantly. The pub master and the Abbot of the abbey had agreed to start putting things in order to cater to Dismas's and Reynauld's needs while the Crusader had traveled up the road to examine the ruins of the old cathedral that had once stood between the manor and the hamlet. Charles himself had begun putting the Lord's house in order and had discovered, amongst other things, a bag of coins worth about 5,000 Sovereigns hidden away. A hard day's work had turned the office and its adjacent sleeping room into decent enough lodgings and Charles had been in the process of going through some old deeds he had found as well.

"Needin' more?" Dismas asked with a bit of incredulousness. "The Lord o' the Treasury 'imself don't make that much in a year!"

Charles shook his head. "And how do you expect to put the town back in order? We will need to hire more workmen from nearby towns and purchase supplies such as lumber. All of them will need wages and all those supplies will need to be shipped here. If Reynauld returns with a bad report we will need to hire others to help us clear out the darkness here and that will mean advertisements in the papers and compensation for travel, not to mention food and their own wages. None of it will be cheap. I only hope some of my family's fortune still exists somewhere in the manor or in those ruins."

"We will definitely need the Vestal." Reynauld informed them unhappily as he entered the room without fanfare. "And probably several more stout men at the very least."

Oh dear. Charles sighed mentally. "Let's hear it then." He replied.

"As expected the ruins of the cathedral are just that though the masons who built it did their work well enough, I doubt the place will collapse on us."

"Never mind the stonework, what's goin' on in there?" Dismas asked in annoyance.

"I dared not venture far, even before I entered the place I could sense the foulness of evil about it, clinging to every stone and beam like an oily film." Reynauld said as he sat down in one of the padded chairs in front of the desk. "The air was musty and had an unnatural scent about it. The entryway even had a few skeletons lying about."

"You sure it wasn' just decay from the bones?" Dismas asked.

Reynauld shook his head. "I know what death and decay smells like. There was that faint scent in the air as well but...no. It was something more than that. Something that made my hackles rise. But stranger still were the candles."

Charles frowned. "What about them?"

"They were lit." Reynauld replied with a grim look.

Charles blinked at this. "I fail to see..."

"I do." Dismas interrupted. "Nobody lights candles in a ruin 'less they're workin' or livin' in it. The folk round here don't go near the place and everywhere else is deserted. So who lit them candles?" He asked Charles with a pointed look.

"More to the point, the fact that whatever evil resides there can light them means they are intelligent, at least somewhat." Reynauld stated ominously. "Evil in itself is bad enough but evil with intelligence is truly a foe to be feared."

"Surely you gentlemen are overstating this just a bit?" Charles suggested uneasily, looking at the two of them.

The two men glared back at him wordlessly.

"You wished for my report and I have given it." Reynauld stated quietly with a hint of irritation. "What you choose to do with it is your own affair."

Charles sighed and shook his head. "My apologies, I did not mean to suggest...what you describe is frightening and I had hoped..."

"As had I." Reynauld replied, his tone softening a bit. "While I am prepared to fight evil wherever it may be, I am always glad to learn that the situation is not as terrible as I fear. In this case, however…"

"We got our work cut out for us." Dismas replied with a sigh.

"With your permission I shall send a missive to the Chapter Master informing him of the situation and request aid." He recommended as he stood. "We must have people here as soon as possible if we are to stop this evil before it grows even more powerful."

Charles nodded and the man took his leave with a respectful nod.

A moment after the door had shut behind the Crusader Dismas sighed quietly, his face pensive. "Had plenty of time to fester already, it has. Light knows what's down there."

"I fear we will find out all too soon." Charles suggested in the same tone, gazing blankly at the papers in front of him.

The next few days passed with Charles and Reynauld assisting the Abbot in cleaning the abbey. The cobwebs were dusted, the pews set straight, and the candles were lit once again. While the building itself was still in shambles it was at least serviceable.

"We are fortunate to have a responsible young man such as yourself take over the care of this place." The old Abbot said as he showed Charles the building, Reynauld having returned to the tavern to help out there. "I thought the Light had utterly forsaken this place when your Grandfather...achieved his ambitions."

"You needn't shy away from speaking bluntly." Charles assured him quietly. "From everything I've seen and heard my Grandfather obviously went quite mad before unleashing these horrors. I cannot believe it and yet I must. But I cannot fault you for harboring ill will or hatred towards him. If I had been there..."

"But you are here now and even that give the people of this hamlet a glimmering of hope." The man replied, stroking his short white beard. "And we need all the hope we can muster in these dark days."

As they passed by a pair of rooms Charles peeked into them. One contained an incense burner and soft pillows while the other was almost dungeon-like with various whips and blunt objects lying on a table along with a hard bench in the middle of the room.

"What manner of places are these doing in a church?" Charles asked him with a confused frown.

"This church was built to honor the Light and allow those who worship it to congregate." The Abbot explained, pulling his patchwork robe about him. "But in these latter days we have found that some find peace and forgiveness in other means and we must accommodate them, for to do otherwise would be cruel." He explained with a hint of regret. "Some reject the Light but find peace in meditation and contemplation. Others find that...physical pain and punishment help to relieve their guilt, whether it is deserved or not. The Light would never ask for such penitence of course, for it is always willing to forgive, but for some such knowledge is not enough. They feel they must punish themselves for what they have done." The man sighed deeply, his face troubled. "I have tried to minister to them as best I could but hope has been gone from this place for so long...some here are not in their right mind and I do not have the ability to cure them. Thus I am left with no alternative...I give them a measure of privacy and dignity and for a time it helps them be free from the guilt and the anguish. It is scarce comfort but at least for a time they are content. If I can give them that at least..." The man said, his voice breaking as he cried silently, leaning against the stone wall.

Charles rested his hand on the man's shoulder in support as he cried silently for several moments. Finally he cleaned his face on his faded robe and turned back to Charles, his eyes still tired but more composed.

"I cannot imagine how hard it has been for you and for everyone." Charles said quietly. "To shoulder such burdens and with no one to turn to with your own sorrows...you have done what many could not. You are a great and strong man, Abbot. Never think otherwise. You have all my respect for what you have done here."

The man smiled winsomely at this. "Thank you sir. But I am simply a humble servant of the Light, doing what I can. If you can deliver us from this darkness then it is I who will sing your praises to the end of my days."

Charles merely shook his head modestly. "I swore to do what I can, and I will. If it is within my power I will cleanse this place."

The Abbot let out a quiet laugh at this. "The Light shall cleanse this place with you and those you bring here as its instruments sir. Use what you have to achieve this but do not rely on your own power for men have no power except what the Light grants them."

Charles quirked a smile at this. "Is that part of your sermon for the Sunday service?" He asked.

The Abbot chuckled at this. "Perhaps, good sir, perhaps."

That afternoon a carriage pulled into the hamlet, thankfully unmolested by bandits. Charles and Reynauld came out to meet the new arrival as the coach pulled up.

"I'm glad to see they made it in one piece." Reynauld remarked.

"I suppose that little display when we arrived helped." Charles replied. "But we will need to ensure the roads are cleared as well."

The carriage door opened revealing a round-faced and pale young woman dressed in modest brown robes and a hood with a white headband keeping her hair back. Her chest and back were covered with a set of banded armor with spiked shoulder pauldrons and she wore a red sash about her waist upon which hung a spiked mace and holy book.

"We are glad to see you made it safely, miss…?" Charles asked.

"Vestal Gerri Boutina." The woman replied simply with a nod of her head. "You are Charles Ezekiel, yes?" She asked and Charles nodded.

"This is Crusader Reynauld Winters." Charles said, gesturing the to the armored man.

"A pleasure to meet you both." The woman said with a hint of warmth.

A moment later a second figure emerged from the carriage. The genderless figure was cloaked from head to toe in heavy robes of brownish-green and a hood with a pair of spiked pauldrons and long gloves. Around the figure's waist was a belt holding several types of pouches as well as orbs and vials of glass. Covering the person's face was a beaked bone-white mask with dark eyeholes signifying their profession as a plague doctor.

"Hannah Bellecoat." The figure stated plainly, her voice muffled slightly by the wrappings around her chin and mouth. "I was contacted by the Chapter Master of St. George to accompany Vestal Boutina to this town to assist in ensuring it is free from plague and other disease." Looking about at the state of the town she turned back to them. "I can certainly see why. I'll be surprised if I can find any healthy people at all here."

Charles frowned at the insinuation and the woman's cool tone but held his tongue. "We appreciate any assistance, of course." He said. "The Chapter Master was wise to send the two of you here as I'm sure we will need both your services."

"The Chapter Master explained the situation here at least in general." The plague doctor stated. "Apparently I am to assist in more than just ensuring the people of this town are healthy."

"Are you prepared for what we may ask of you?" Charles asked, recognizing a feminine lilt in the person's voice. "I realize a plague doctor, especially a lady such as yourself may not be used to fighting...especially not the evils that might be found here."

The masked woman gazed at him silently for a moment before she spoke. "I am well aware of the danger, the Chapter Master was most insistent that I understand what I might be getting into. I may be a woman but I assure you I am not some high society lady unused to getting my hands dirty." She stated, showing the discolored spots on her thick gloves. "I've walked among the worst slums in London as well as other places just as bad on the continent where disease and foulness run rampant, turning people into horrid mockeries of their former selves. Rest assured," she finished in a chilly tone, "I am well able to take care of myself."

Charles nodded. "My apologies for making assumptions about you Ms. Bellecoat. I shall not do so again."

The robed woman nodded brusquely before turning back to the town. "Now then, why don't we find some place for me to set up shop while you tell me of what's been going on here?"

Charles nodded. "An excellent idea. Reynauld, will you help Ms. Boutina settle in?"

"Certainly." Reynauld replied before turning to the Vestal. "Please follow me. We've been working to make the tavern more habitable and I'll introduce you to our other associate as well."

"Lovely." Gerri replied, favoring him with a cheery smile. "Perhaps, once the briefings are out of the way we can get to know each other better as well?" She suggested.

Reynauld raised an eyebrow at this but shrugged as he led her towards the tavern.

After all, he thought to himself, the convents are rather cloistered. I doubt she has been around men much since her indoctrination and I have been told my face is pleasing to the eye. I shall have to tread carefully to ensure she does not get the wrong idea.

"So Vestal Boutina, tell me what the Chapter Master explained to you so I can fill you in on the details." He suggested in what he hoped was a business-like tone.

Dimpling, Gerri began to speak. "Mainly the Chapter Master spoke about the possibility of there being a very dark evil located here. He showed me your report and I made sure to read it carefully. It was quite thorough." She said with a quiet compliment in her tone.

"Thank you." Reynauld replied flatly as they passed a row of houses. "Tell me, which convent do you hail from?"

"The Sisters of the Light convent in the northern part of London." She replied. "Mother Superior specifically suggested that I be sent here to help."

Reynauld nodded. "She must have faith in your abilities to send you on such an important assignment as this." He suggested.

"Of course." Gerri replied, looking a bit thoughtful before turning to Reynauld with a smile. "So tell me, how long have you been in the Order?"

"I was introduced to the Chapter Master when I was still a lad." The man replied. "My family had decided that I would receive proper training under his tutelage, not to mention discipline."

"You were an unruly child?" She teased gently.

"Once could say that." He hedged, looking away for a moment.

Gerri giggled quietly at this. "Come now, you needn't be ashamed of that. Are not all children unruly at times?"

"Perhaps." Reynauld allowed though Gerri could tell he was not convinced.

"Well, whatever the Chapter Master did, it seems to have done some good." Gerri said. "You're quite the fine specimen."

Reynauld raised an eyebrow at this. "Of a Crusader." He stated with a bit of emphasis.

"Of course." Gerri demurred, though he could see her gaze suggested otherwise.

Light help me. He sighed in his mind.


At the same time…

"How long has the town been in this state?" Bellecoat asked Charles, her tone all business.

"I've only just arrived a few days ago myself." Charles admitted. "I've been around the town greeting people and trying to put things back in order."

"That was your first mistake, in my opinion." Bellecoat replied frankly. "If these people are diseased you and your companions have almost certainly contracted it. I fail to see how you will be able to help these people if you yourself are suffering from the same illnesses they are."

Charles frowned at this. "You certainly don't mince words do you?" He asked. I would hate to be on the receiving end of her bedside manner!

"When a patient's life is possibly measured in days you don't have time for flowery speech." The plague doctor retorted. "My focus here is to ensure no one dies if it can be helped. Whether that be by administering tonics to the sick or murdering wicked plague bearers with my scalpel so be it. I'm of the opinion that amputating a diseased limb to save the body is more important than trying to regenerate the limb and allowing the disease to spread further."

"Cold, Doctor, but in this case we may need such an ideology." Charles replied as they came to a crumbling tower-like structure close to the abbey. "I haven't yet been in here. Shall we?"

As they went through the various rooms they found several consisting of a bench with a pair of shackles and a rusting iron door with a grill in the center. There were also a few storage rooms and a room with a front desk.

"A prison and constabulary of some description, it would seem." Charles suggested. "The place seems firm enough. Will it do for your purposes?"

"I suppose." Bellecoat replied. "It will need quite a bit of cleaning but I've worked in worse conditions than this. Once the place is set up I will want to examine each of the townspeople individually to assess their overall health and whether they are infected. Once that is sorted out we can begin working on other matters. It will also give me some time to create some...personal

mixtures I've come up with over the years."

"Very well." Charles said. "Let me know when you are finished setting up. I'll go about and let people know you will be expecting them."

The woman dismissed him with a nod as she began unpacking her boxes filled with various glass jars of powders, liquids, and empty vials.

The next day was equally busy for all with Reynauld continuing to show Gerri around the town and explaining what her role was to be when cleansing the ruins. Bellecoat was kept busy setting up her equipment and cleaning the various rooms to turn it into a proper apothecary and makeshift hospital should the need arise. Dismas by this time had been healed of his wound and was assisting the pub master in Reynauld's absence to finish the last bit of repairs and housekeeping chores to make the taverns' rooms usable if rather spartan. Charles had been writing advertisements to be distributed by the Chapter Master to the local newspapers as well as sending out letters requesting workmen and supplies to help rebuild the town. When he was not ensconced in his office he was walking about the town letting people know that the plague doctor would soon be requesting their presence to inquire about their health.

Finally as evening fell he called the four of them together in his office.

"Well, ladies and gentlemen," he said, clasping his hands together as he leaned against the desk, "we have gone as far as we can with the repairs. I want to thank all of you for putting in all your hard work, this would have been impossible without you and I appreciate you putting in the extra labor. It speaks well of all of you." He assured them, glancing around at each of them.

"Well so far you been payin' well enough." Dismas replied with a sigh, propping his feet up on the corner of the desk, making the others glare at him at bit for his presumptuousness. "I s'pose that means tomorrow we start doin' real work eh?"

"Frankly I am almost relieved." Reynauld remarked. "Not that I have anything against manual labor, it is honest work and does the soul good. However I feel my talents have been, if not wasted, not put to their best use."

"I believe I'm in agreement." Hannah said matter-of-factly, for once devoid of her mask. "It's time we ventured into these ruins to see what is there. The vague fears of an insane Caretaker make for, if you'll excuse the expression, a poor diagnosis of the truth."

Charles nodded. "It is time. Tomorrow we make our first foray into the cathedral. May the Light be with us."