Chapter 79: Gathering intel
The mood was gruff and so were their faces upon the unexpected approach.
"Heard that Crawl? He called us gentlemen," one of them mumbled in between tight lips of a beard that had not once seen a knife in its life. He appeared to be the oldest of the group, but humorously also the fittest. His skin was worn out, just the same as his clothes, but his back straight and his eyes livelier than Izaya expected.
"I'm not deaf yet," the elder called Crawl confirmed and circled a cup of water standing before each of them with old shaken hands. An eyepatch resting on his left eye hid what was probably an old battle injury, but his glance didn't seem half as dead as it should be.
"Can't know you or he wouldn't have called you that, Kestor," the third on the table laughed, showing a mouth that was missing the times it still wore some teeth.
"Oh, shut your mouth Laron and slurp your soup with your toothless gum," Kestor complained, but a smile was sitting on his lips all the while, easily giving away that this way of roasting each other was simply what they learned to live as.
The mugs filled with what was probably beer were raised to a quick queer and Izaya joined the round of amusement with his own smile.
"Would you care if I joined your round?" Almost immediately the smiles dropped and the elders looked at him as though he was a drunken maniac.
"We certainly would. Go bother someone else kid," Kestor waved him off gruffly, but Izaya was not one to give up just after being told off once.
"But it is you who I want to bother," he announced without the slightest intention to back off at all- and it showed on his face and in his behavior.
"Persistent, this lad," the toothless Laron whispered between soaking lips and sipped off his beer anew.
It was then that Izaya spotted the perfect medium of persuasion.
Namie.
Entering the hall she was probably trying to find her own source of reliable intel and as soon as she stepped into the room their eyes met.
She looked pretty- especially in contrast to everyone else covered in dirt from head to toe and untended to for most of their lives.
A white linen shirt, accentuated by a set of cords was pulling the fabric closer to her body in just the right places to show off her perfect figure without revealing too much skin. The fabric or design wasn't of high quality, but none of that seemed to matter when it came to her, as even the ashen gray skirt she had been given, hugged her hips in a way that only enhanced her beauty further.
She must have combed her hair considering the way it appeared too orderly. A section of it had been taken and formed into a braid which now spread around her head like a delicate crown.
"Aren't you curious about the lady I brought with me last night?" Izaya asked, and his bait seemed to have been the right choice, as the elders turned their heads.
"Lady?" Crawl repeated, but even while he was missing one eye, he was certainly able to appreciate a woman's beauty the moment he saw her.
Of course it helped that Namie had already been gorgeous by modern standards. To these men, she had to appear like a descended goddess.
Soft murmurs filled the hall for a second as not only the elders turned.
Some of the strangers visiting the church seemed equally astonished at her sight, some seemed openly envious and not as thrilled about her presence.
"Can't say I have seen a woman prettier than that in my life," Crawl agreed in an appreciative, but oddly polite whisper.
It was funny.
These were medieval times. If anything Izaya expected people to take what they wanted at any chance that they got. But he forgot that there were also people with an oddly high sense of decency around. Men who treasured women, like they were the highest good to serve.
Just looking at Crawl and the way he acted Izaya somehow found himself thinking that he had served a lady at some point. It would explain the injury and the fact that he survived it. Had it been a farmer's accident Izaya doubted he would have had the means or the money to treat his injury with anything more decent than water and a bandaid.
Looking at it now, the eyepatch he was wearing was a sign of wealth as well. It was shaped perfectly to his face, made of leather and decorated with the tiniest embroidery. In other words it was not something he had bought but that had been handmade to his needs.
A former knight. For now that was the occupation Izaya kept in mind for this guy.
"If you want to, I can introduce you," he offered, looking towards Kestor.
Despite his beard hiding half of his face, he couldn't quite hide his interest in the woman.
"I saw him last night. He really did arrive with her." Laron suddenly confirmed without having been asked too and Kestor grunted.
"Scoundrel, making fun of our poor old hearts," he announced, as though he was going to decline Izaya's offer.
Even more surprised was he when a chair was pulled from the side.
"Fine, take a seat if you must," Kestor groaned as the small stool found its way to the already crammed table.
Izaya could already smell the sweat of a week's worth from where he was standing, and parasites like fleas were sure to live a happy life in almost all fabrics nearby, but his offer was not one he could turn down for disgust and so he quickly closed in and ignored the way his shoulder brushed Laron's as he sat down.
"I thank you from the bottom of my heart."
"Cut the sweet tall. You are as sharp tongued as brother Celso, I see it on the tip of your nose." Kestor immediately announced, as though he had noticed Izaya's initial reluctance and the retired knight agreed with a soft nod.
"Yeah, spit it out. Calling us wise and baiting us. We are no idiots you know," Crawl announced and took another sip of his beer.
"What do you want from us?" Kestor repeated and Izaya hesitated for a brief moment.
Lying appeared to be no option. For all he knew Crawl used to be a knight, he had dealt with a variety of people and was probably more prone to pick up pretty stories when they were served in front of him.
As for Kestor- he seemed awfully lively for a man of his age. His limbs too. Judging from the way he moved and his upper body he must have led a life making use of strength, but not a quick way.
A farrier maybe or a similar profession. At least Izaya suspected he must have owned his own business considering his sharp tongue and lack of conformity and so he smiled.
"Then allow me to speak with honesty." Lowering his voice just a bit he pointed towards Namie and leaned in. "We only arrived last night and the church seemed to have been set on fire shortly beforehand. The lady is worried about her safety and I am meant to find out whether it's safe to remain."
In a very roundabout way, it was the truth he was speaking. Namie was more than suspicious of her surroundings and anything Izaya was able to find out would serve to calm her agitated nerves.
Same for his sisters and Leo.
Gathering more intel on the current situation at church was the best way to start digging for the demon's whereabouts.
"Can't blame her for that for sure," Laron whispered between tight lips and sucked in a breath of stale air. The topic Izaya had brought up seemed to be a bitter one and Crawl took his own sip of his beer before sighing quietly.
"Marcius really dug his own grave there didn't he?"
Izaya's ears immediately perked at the name.
"Priest Marcius, he is the priest in charge of this church, am I right?" This was the exact direction he needed this conversation to steer into. "What did he do to be scorned like that?"
Eyes looking left and right the elders seemed quite reluctant to talk about the priest, especially with so many other people present. It made sense, they were currently inside that very priest's church too. Talking shit about the one that fed their mouths was probably not the way to go about things here.
"Took in the kids." Kestor suddenly announced, as quiet as a nightly gush of air, "You have yet to meet them, I guess. A handful of poor souls. Without parents or future. No wonder they ended up being possessed."
Honest surprise showed on Izaya's expression at those words.
"Possessed?" he repeated, matching the elder's volume and Kestor gave a solemn nod while hiding his lip behind the rim of his beer.
"Demons took their souls. Made them speak of irrational atrocities and move their bodies in unnatural motions. Even their skin started to take on a demon's," he whispered and quickly took a sip as if he had never spoken a single word of the incident.
"Yeah, a little later and they might have been gone for good," Crawl suddenly agreed and Izaya frowned.
"Later?"
"The priest saved them, lad," Laron suddenly spoke, a bit louder than before. Conviction carried his voice as well as a definite sense of pride. "Challenged the demons. Locked himself up at the altar with all of them for a whole night." Nothing but admiration swayed in his words, and yet the silence that followed seemed quite oppressive in its own way.
Leaning across the table, Crawl took up the duty of finishing what sounded like the beginning of a grand tale and whispered. "The next day they were cured," he announced as though it was the unexpected end of something that shouldn't occur. "No sign of demonity left. All completely sane," Crawl finished and leant back in his chair. "He said God heard his prayers, but…"
And suddenly Izaya realized, why the very positive ending of this tale was this much of a problem.
"You don't believe him?" he whispered, and a quick slam to the table startled even him as he had offended Kestor in the worst way.
"Fool! Of course we do. Or else we wouldn't be sitting here," he scolded immediately, and even caused some heads to turn.
Quickly realizing his unintended outburst he quickly backed down into his seat.
"We certainly do. But the villagers…" Laron faded out and Izaya started to put the pieces together in his head.
"They are the ones who set the church on fire?" he concluded and Laron nodded. "Ain't seen their faces but I'm willing to bet my last possessions."
"But I doubt they will try again." Crawl suddenly threw in with unreasonable confidence that caused Izaya to throw a questioning glance.
"How so?"
"The forests." Laron simply stated, as though nothing more than that needed to be said in order to understand the current situation.
Only Kestor seemed to pick up that Izaya needed a bit more than that to follow.
"You were lucky coming here at night with nothing but your blankets," he announced, and Crawl sighed. "The villagers certainly weren't."
Darkness unexpected and grim clouded Kestor's expression for a moment and he brought his voice to a lower volume once more.
"Word has it that two were abducted by demons." He paused, and whispered. "Gone." The single word emphasized to accurately depict the horror of what had happened. "From one second to the next with only a stain of blood left to tell the tale," Kestor finished, and Izaya felt his own skin crawl at the vivid description.
"The forests are cursed at night. If you value your life, don't get near it at all," Crawl added lastly and a unified nod was the last the elders shared.
Cursed, huh?
Izaya wasn't surprised about rumors like that. Especially in this age. Electricity had not been invented yet and materials like oil were valuable and used scarcely. Not to mention the vast lack of knowledge of many people was probably mostly at fault for unexpected deaths.
Seeing as a dark forest filled with animals at night was the perfect counter to human survival, he couldn't really blame them for coming up with all kinds of demonities responsible for their deaths.
And at the end of the day, tales like these were only going to be beneficial to them. Children would learn these rumors, mothers would turn them into bedtime stories and in the best case implement some safety rules guided by a bit of irrational fear.
The death of those two villagers was nothing Izaya mourned. If anything, then they got what they deserved for setting this church on fire. Karma so to say.
But the salvation of the kids, that was a different matter.
"And where is priest Marcius now?" Izaya asked after a polite minute of silence for those who passed away last night.
"On the road. Casting prayers." Laron shrugged with a soft sigh and Crawl nodded in agreement. "We are not his only lambs."
"He could be back any day or in a week. Depends entirely on his duties, the weather and people," Kestor informed curtly, as though he had already read Izaya's intention of wanting to meet the priest in person.
"He remained a week with Monica's father out on the fields to be there for his final moments," Laron suddenly added and a solemn mood covered the table like a death reaper's blanket.
It was then that the large door leading to the outside opened, and Izaya turned his head.
Taller than he had seemed the night before, the guy of poor health and even worse conscience entered the hall. Sunken eyes, pale skin, he looked even worse off than the last time Izaya had seen him. His black robe was brushing across the floor and the blue didn't exactly enhance his malnutritioned sight.
It was when he glanced towards the elders' table, and Izaya sitting at it, that Krestor suddenly raised his voice beyond what was reasonable.
"He is a fine man. Not worthy of such persecution."
What sounded like a simple continuation of their conversation somehow seemed to hold a double meaning as Kestor glared at the gaunt man.
But nothing except for a short glance was spared into Krestor's direction, before the guy made his way over to the kitchen.
Surprised by the obvious resentment in Kestor's eyes, Izaya blinked, "You resent this man?"
"Balthasar is the name. A royal judge." Crawl informed, and Kestor grunted as if the name alone was making his beer go bad.
Izaya roughly remembered medieval practices when it came to enforcing the law. As far as he was aware, Royal judges traveled from one country to the next a few times a year in order to hold trials for serious crimes in those areas.
"God's work doesn't mean shit to him." Kestor spat angrily and Laron tried to calm his old friend.
"It were the villagers who reported the priest for having enacted magic with the aid of demons," he pointed out as if it were going to better his mood. A mistake.
"So? He is still trying to prosecute priest Marcius for heresy," Kestor snarled and Izaya started to understand why this guy had looked at them with as much disdain as he had.
Was it a hunch?
Did he feel that Izaya was a demon?
Because at the end of the day, all of them, except for Namie, were incubi.
Had this been a normal game of superstitions, Izaya would have simply guessed the guy didn't like them because they were strangers.
But knowing that demons actually existed, along with abilities and traits unhideable, the topic wasn't quite as easy.
Had he not known better he would have been convinced by these old men.
They were trusting the priest with all their might.
But priest Marcius had in fact dealt with a demon.
Most likely to save the children.
Was that why incubi only needed energy past the age of twelve?
The oldest child was around that age. Was that a simple coincidence?
Questions over questions started popping up in Izaya's mind along with fitting theories and he glanced towards the door Balthasar had left.
There was only one fact that remained true.
If anyone had intel on demonic business then it was the royal judge.
to be continued~
Damn this conversation is going longer than I thought xD Guess you will get the rest of it next friday hahahaha xD