The Memory of Darkness (on hold until October)

9 - Rumours of Unpleasant Truths

The streets between the church and Malgard's house were still surprisingly busy. A few carts and carriages rolled by, and a city Watchman respectfully tapped the brim of his hat as Father Dominic passed by. The Priest smiled and nodded in response.

A little further on, Coren checked that nobody was in earshot before speaking. "I should be honest with you about my friend's identity."

The Priest stopped, leaning on his crutch. "Princess Arianna?"

"How did you guess?" asked Coren.

"I'm right?" He raised his eyebrows in amusement. "Well, I've heard talk that she arrived in Kyrvell today. Presumably you were part of her escort."

"That's true," said Coren.

"Yes, you do look and smell like a man who's been on the road all day."

"This could be urgent," said the knight, defensively. "I can bathe later."

Father Dominic chuckled. "I meant no offence. She's quite a beauty; if a woman like that had given me a task, I'd be in a great hurry to complete it too." He turned, as if to resume his progress, before pausing. "I feel I should be honest with you, also."

"About what?"

The Priest leaned on his crutch, deep in thought. "You may hear some things that strike you as odd...Unbelievable, even."

"Such as?"

"I should warn you that my brother Lorcan died over forty years ago."

"So, who threatened the Princess?"

Dominic sighed. "If Felix thinks that it was Lorcan, he's no doubt correct."

"Is this some kind of joke?" asked Coren, his patience wearing thin.

"I wish it was," said Dominic. "My brother died, but for reasons I can't explain, he didn't stay that way."

"That's impossible," said Coren.

"That should be the case," admitted the Priest. "I've seen him around a dozen times since it happened. Most times he looked to be in good health, and he hadn't aged a day. Other times he looked like he'd been in the grave for weeks; damn near scared me witless."

Coren stared at the Priest in disbelief. Was the old man losing his mind? On the other hand, he recalled something he had heard when he was a boy; rumours of the dead rising from their graves to torment the living near his hometown. If there was the slightest chance... "You mean he's undead?" he asked. "Like a vampire?"

"Certainly not!" said Father Dominic, offended. "Vampires are mindless, feral things. Whatever his physical condition, his mind was there, in some regard, at least." He paused, studying the younger man's face. "You don't believe me, do you?"

"I'm having some trouble with it," admitted Coren. "If he's not a vampire, then what is he?"

"A monster of his own making," said the Priest, his voice low. He sighed, before turning to begin their journey again. "Please, we should be on our way. I'm sure that Malgard will have more information for you, should you really wish to hear it."

XXXXX

The sound of another explosion reached his ears. He turned to his two companions with a frown. "That sounds expensive."

One of the women glared at him. "I'm more worried about being crushed by rubble, to be honest. We've got Alys. Why are we still here?"

The man smiled, but didn't answer her question, turning instead to the third member of their party. "Alys, dear girl. Am I correct in remembering that this is where condemned prisoners are kept?"