5
Smirking at me, the mysterious girl turned her attention to the peasants, letting my befuddled mind attempt to right itself. Men, women, and children were in the fields, toiling at their lawful labor, the place they would remain at until dusk, day in and day out.
As we watched, two horses with riders emerged from the manor house. I could easily tell that, by the poor way he sat, one of the riders was John Ayncliffe, the steward. The other man was the very same man I had seen with Ayncliffe the night before.
Riding slowly, the two dismounted and entered the church, without a fear.
We waited.
We didn't have to wait long, because the church bell soon began to ring. Not the slow, rhythmic pealing that announced the canonical hours, no, it was a strident, urgent call, one that called the villagers to hear important news.
People in the fields looked up and around and stopped their work. Like one great beast, they all gathered to the church. Others from their cottages began to join them. Before long, the entire village was present in front of the holy church. Once all were gathered, the bell ceased its noise.
Three men stepped from inside the church. The first had a stoop with old age, whom I immediately recognized as Father Quinel. The second was the steward, and the last was the steward.
The steward briefly addressed the crowd at the doors of the church. The stranger next said something; I was too far away to hear. Father Quinel spoke, as if calming the people. The strange girl seemed to have heard, because her face was an unnatural shade of white.
The trio entered the church again, and the church bell rang. I could not guess at what purpose it began to toil again for.
I was tempted to go forward, but one glance at the girl told me that I shall greatly regret that.
Instead, I bowed my head in prayer to Jesus, facing away from the girl. "O Great and Giving Jesus, I, who have no name, who has no place Thy world, who is all alone save for You, I, who am full of sin, implore Thy blessed help, or I'm undone."
"Are you ready to find out your true calling?"
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Aycliffe is now Ayncliffe. I'll update ASAP.
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Crispin the Vampire: The Cross of Blood
FanfictionThis is a story, woven with love, for all of you out there who were forced to read Crispin: The Cross of Lead. All credit goes to Avi for that story. You will learn untold truths that were NEVER mentioned in that book. This is all true, I promise...
