NOVEL NEXT Chapter 1.1
Every step felt heavy, on the muddy road. Nene's head was dizzy with the long journey. It was her first assignment, yet there she was, making her way through a godforsaken land. The borderlands were far from home and the safety granted by the Church. It was a well-known fact that the Evil One was so much stronger outside the Principality, and its borders were constantly under threat. Killing in the name of God was the dreadful job of an Inquisitor, albeit necessary. Nene wasn't convinced about her superiors’ judgement: she was a brilliant Inquisitor, one of the best in her course, yet she was still sixteen. On top of that, she had no practical experience. All she had was excellent training and a strong faith.
The road went through the forest. Autumn had left the trees leafless, and the morning sun filtered through them, its light greyish as the sky. The path was defined by stone walls at each side, the vegetation was sparse. A cold wind hit Nene in the face as she reached the top of a hill. From up there she saw smoke in the distance, a sign that she was almost at her destination.
«Good boy, Oo», she said.
Her horse snorted. Nene set him at a slow trot towards the village on the horizon. There, her first assignment was waiting for her. All she had to do was to stick to the procedures she had learned since childhood, for everything to go smoothly. As she got closer, she saw a few rudimentary buildings in the settlement, made of wood and thatch. Fences of sticks and stones surrounded the fields, and the village almost looked abandoned, by humans and animals alike.
Unlike other villages where she had stopped by during her journey, that one seemed to be populated only by children, dressed in long, ragged clothes similar to those used in the undercity. They were watching her fearfully from around every corner, as she advanced through the town. What had happened to the adults?
Not knowing how to move around, she looked for something that could guide her. She met the eyes of a kid, who stared at her frightened and ran to hide inside his home. She sighed, imagining how the other students in her class, those who hadn't passed the final test and obtained the Archangel's blessing yet, were likely listening to the morning sermon, after sleeping comfortably in their beds at the monastery.
«This way!»
A middle-aged man called for her. He was wearing a fine, colourful jacket and trousers, and had a bushy moustache. She saw him waving at the end of the road, where the path narrowed between houses, then turned sharply to the left up a steep slope. She approached him, dismounted, and proceeded to tie her horse to a tree at the edge of the road. Her boots sank in the mud. She was dirty from head to toe, her black trousers felt itchy, her white camisole sweaty.
«Inquisitor, you are finally here»
The man bowed deeply. It was appropriate custom to prostrate on the ground in the presence of an Inquisitor, but Nene was not particularly fond of such formalities, and felt relieved when he didn't kneel in the mud. Being so much younger than him, the whole situation felt bizarre enough already.
«Are you the priest of this village?», she asked.
«No, I'm the mayor. Our priest is waiting for us, he has gathered the whole town. Please, follow me»
She followed the man. She felt uncomfortable seeing a much older individual being so scared, such was the fear that the Evil One caused to every pious person.
«Why did the priest gather all the inhabitants? Did you leave the children alone in their homes under his directive?»
«Thus Father Tillio instructed us», he explained. «He said that by praying all together we would alleviate Master Arbe's suffering while waiting for you»
Nene grimaced in silence. She understood their good intentions, but prayers were useless, and getting close to the damned was dangerous. In the most serious cases, such as in the presence of multiple possessions, or worse, of a servant of the Evil One, the Church would send mixed expeditions of Knights and Inquisitors, to evacuate the area before purging it.
She followed the mayor up the muddy slope. At the end of the path stood a modest house of thatch and stones, similar to the others in the village. A small crowd had gathered in front of it. Most of them were kneeling while praying. Some of the villagers were carrying pitchforks, their looks were worried rather than angry. It was the task of a village priest, in these scenarios, to manage the crowds while waiting for the intervention of the Inquisition. Nene figured that the priest had gathered everyone in prayer to keep them busy.
«What can you tell me about the damned?», she asked.
The mayor hesitated a moment before answering, then lowered his head.
«Master Arbe is a friend, a pious man dedicated to the community», he finally explained, tears filling his eyes. «A few days ago, before mass, he was…. Found damned. He immediately warned the priest and locked himself up in his house»
Nene nodded. The man had followed the prescribed procedure, reducing the risk of spreading evil to others.
«However…», the mayor said. «His wife insisted on staying with him despite everything»
Nene couldn’t believe her ears: the possessed man's wife was in extreme danger. Not only that, she risked becoming a threat to the whole town.
«What will become of them, Inquisitor?»
She inhaled deeply. She had been taught to remain detached during a purge, but seeing that man devastated by the loss of an acquaintance of his could not leave her indifferent.
«I'll have to see them with my own eyes. I doubt there is hope for this Arbe…»
The mayor covered his mouth. Everyone knew the Archangel's teachings: a soul touched by the Evil One risked eternal damnation, its only hope was to immediately submit itself to God's judgement.
«As for the wife, I'll have to evaluate on the spot. Don't be afraid, God loves their children, and if Arbe was a good man as you claim, I'm sure It will forgive his mistake»
«"Was"?»
She looked away. She couldn't take that conversation any longer. She walked towards the hooded man standing in front of the house, assuming it was the local priest. The old man looked at her and recognized her black robes embroidered with silver threads, a distinctive sign of the Inquisition.
«Inquisitor, praised be», he greeted her.
«How many days has he been possessed? Has anyone entered? Have you heard unusual noises coming from inside?»
The priest hesitated. Suddenly, silence fell, and the whole village was staring at Nene. The sight of the pitchforks frightened her.
«Three days. I organised guard shifts and no one went in or out, except Master Arbe's wife who was already inside»
She scrutinised all the villagers one by one, who bowed as they met her gaze. Inquisitors like her, blessed by the Archangel, were able to sense the presence of the Evil One simply by approaching one of its minions. Luckily, she perceived none among them
«I personally gave them some provisions», the priest added. «I used the utmost precaution, it seems that Master Arbe tied himself to the bed of his own accord, awaiting your arrival»
«I see. Now kneel, please»
The priest obeyed without saying a word. Nene rested the cross on his forehead, and nothing happened.
«You took quite the risk», she told him.
«Please help them», the man told her, standing up.
He made a sweeping gesture with his arm, ordering the villagers to move away. They obeyed, after which the priest knocked on the door three times. They waited quite some time but finally heard footsteps from inside.
«Miranda, I'm Father Tillio. The Inquisitor has arrived»
After a while, the door swung open. A small elderly woman, wearing a black veil, welcomed them, visibly tired. Nene watched her carefully, but she didn't perceive anything blasphemous in her.
«Praised be! Please come in. My husband is in pain!»
«Wait. First, kneel», Nene ordered.
The woman obeyed and submitted herself to the cross. She didn't flinch, thus proving to be clean.
«Miranda is fine!», the priest sighed in relief.
At that announcement, some curious villagers approached, and some resumed their prayers.
«Keep everyone away», Nene said. «No one is to enter until I'm done, not even you»
The priest nodded. He put a hand on the woman's shoulders and led her out of the house. The old lady knelt in front of the entrance, praying and weeping.
«Close the door behind me. If you hear a fight, flee»
She entered the house. The murmur of prayers became almost inaudible as the heavy wooden door closed. That noise startled her. She allowed herself a moment of recollection, trying not to be overcome with fear.
«Master Arbe!», she called.
She heard a faint voice in the dim light. The wooden floor creaked with every step. The windows were closed and the visibility was scarce. She walked down a narrow corridor in the direction of the sound. She entered a room lit by a stone fireplace. Tools unknown to her were gathered in that place, but she noticed some wooden toys on the shelves, and a chair in the corner wrapped in a blanket. For how long had the wife watched over her husband?
«Miranda….», a voice whispered.
Nene followed the sound. She found a closed door. A small wooden cross was resting on the ground, to confine the possessed in there should they try to escape. She drew her silver dagger and entered.
«Miranda, no…», the man said.
Their eyes met, and Nene shivered. It was her first time seeing a damned in the flesh. Every fibre of her body boiled at the sight of its gouged, bloodshot eyes.
«Who are you? It's dangerous here!», Arbe warned her.
The poor toymaker was tied to the bed with thick ropes in his white undergowns, sweating and reduced to skin and bones. He smelled bad and looked even worse. Nene pulled out the cross and pointed it at the man, who frowned in pain.
«I’m an Inquisitor, I am here to set you free»
Not always the damned did respond to common sense, but the texts of the Church told of cases in which people of very strong faith managed to maintain reason for a long time. She had to verify who was the man who was staring at her, frightened: was it Master Arbe, or a servant of the Evil One?
«Finally», he sighed. «I don't know how much longer I could have resisted»
The man closed his eyes and began to sob. Nene kept her cross raised, fearing it was a deception.
«Please, Inquisitor, be quick», he begged her. «It hurts…»
Nene held the dagger to the throat of the damned, who stiffened.
«May God forgive you», she said in a trembling voice.
«Be blessed», Arbe sighed.
Her hands trembled: was she really about to take a man's life? Doubt crept into her. She reminded herself of the teachings she had received, that it was that person's own will. She had been taught, when facing a damned, to go for the throat to eliminate them as easily as possible, to ensure her own safety. However, a master Inquisitor told her that when the subject does not fight back, a single blow to the heart could be less painful to them. With the master's words in mind, she moved the blade from Arbe's throat to his chest. She held it with both hands and inhaled deeply.
The impact with the man's bones brought her back to reality. The damned wriggled weakly, gasping.
Nene looked at her hands: the blade had penetrated all the way through, a thick clot of dark blood was spreading on the toymaker's clothes, and on her hands. She was left paralysed. The nausea caused by the proximity of a damned was overwhelmed by a worse, more intense one. Her stomach contracted violently, to the point that she would have curled up on the ground had she managed to move.
She tried not to think about it, but didn't succeed.
She had killed him.
The man stopped breathing after a few moments, his face contorted in a grimace of pain. Nothing was as she had imagined. The purge was a dreadful thing, though necessary. After a few moments, she remembered to breathe. She had been holding her breath for much longer than she had realised.
She drew her dagger. The tactile sensation of releasing the blade from the now lifeless body sent her into a panic. She backed away in shock and ran to the next room. She curled up in a corner, next to the fireplace, almost extinguished. She focused on breathing. She had saved him, she had saved his soul. He was with God in eternal salvation.
She crouched for a few moments, then took a deep breath, still dazed, and stood up. She walked towards the exit and knocked on the door.
«Inquisitor?», a voice asked from outside.
«It’s me. It’s all over…», she replied.
She heard movements outside. The village men were moving something heavy, which they had used to seal her inside the house. Finally, the door opened, and the grey light of that gloomy afternoon nearly blinded Nene. The priest was in front of her. Beams and barrels were gathered all around him. The people who had helped move them stepped back, except for the toymaker's wife, who was still sobbing and praying.
Nene realised she was staring at the priest. She blinked and tried to focus.
«You may proceed with your blessing»
The man kept staring at her hands. Nene felt deeply annoyed since she was trying not to think about it. Nevertheless, she felt the blood on her skin, and that fool of a man was still looking at her! Never had she felt so disgusted with herself.
«Sure. Please wait here», the priest said. He passed by her, and only then added in a low voice: «I will accompany you to the church later. You can rest, there»
Nene nodded at him. As soon as the priest entered the house, Arbe's wife looked up, and their eyes met.
«Did he suffer?», the woman asked.
She hesitated, not sure what to answer. She had done everything in her power to make the purge as painless as possible.
«No. He is with God now», she recited.
The woman smiled through tears, stood up, and approached her. Nene stood still. The woman hugged her shyly, perhaps not sure if it was appropriate to do to an envoy of the Church.
«Be blessed», she told her.
«Inquisitor?»
The priest’s voice roused Nene. She had lost herself in her own thoughts once again. She looked around. She was inside a small chapel, barely lit by a few candles. A half-dozen wooden benches were arranged inside a poor stone building, that was the church in that village.
«Uh?», she mumbled.
«Do you need anything else?»
She looked at the bowl of water in front of her. It was covered in blood. After purging the toymaker, she had followed the priest to the church and had cleaned herself of the blood, a man’s blood. Her reflection in the red-tinged water startled her. Her face was scary. Her eyes, usually a deep blue, looked grey. The soft, childlike features were turned into a painful grimace, even her raven black hair, usually neat, was a mess. How long had it been since her last hot bath?
She sighed, closed her eyes for a moment, and thought of the priest's offer.
«Thank you, but I have to leave as soon as possible. I need to get to another village»
«Are you going to travel at night?!»
Nene stared at him for a moment. The purge had shocked her to such a degree that she hadn't realised it was already nightfall. She felt ashamed at the thought of how disappointed her teachers would have been, had they seen her in that state. She needed to get a hold of herself.
«No, you’re right. I'll leave tomorrow»
«If you wish, you can stay here. There are lodgings on the upper floor of the church»
«Where will you stay, then?»
«I'll spend the night at my brother's farm. I've already arranged everything»
She nodded. After days in the open, sleeping in a decent bed would have been a blessing in disguise. However, she tried not to get her hoper too high, given how the village looked extremely poor.
«Thank you»
«Don’t mention it. Also, I got you something to eat»
The man handed her a basket, which gave off the scent of bread. She had naively hoped to eat fresh vegetables, maybe even some meat, since her travel rations weren't exactly appetising, but got disappointed nonetheless.
«Thank you very much», she said. «I… must have spaced out», she admitted. «Did you have any trouble blessing the house?»
«I'd be lying if I said it was simple», he said. «It wasn't easy for anyone involved»
The old man rested a hand on her shoulder, making her jolt. He was much taller and bigger than her, who was below average in height.
«You were providential. Don't be too harsh on yourself, you are still very young»
Nene felt her emotions about to break out. She held them in as much as possible but didn't quite succeed. Her face twisted into a grimace, a sign that she was about to cry. The priest smiled at her, left the basket on one of the benches, and walked towards the exit.
«Be blessed, Inquisitor. Good night»
When she heard the door close behind her, Nene began to sob. It had been the worst experience of her life. She tried to clean the tears, picked up the basket and looked around. At the back of the church, behind the altar, a narrow wooden staircase led to the upper floor. She climbed up, shaken by sobs once more. She kept moving hoping it would help her not think, unfortunately to no avail. She found a heavy door of rather rotten wood. The light from downstairs was barely enough to see where she was stepping. She opened the room and waited for her eyes to adjust to the dark. Surprisingly, she made out a bed in the dim light, a real bed. She also found a lantern and some matches left on a small table next to it. She lit the lamp. Its light didn't reveal much else inside that "lodging", except for an empty chest and a shelf containing a single book.
"Does anyone even live here?", she thought.
The room was dead silent. She missed the voices of her comrades at the Citadel dormitory. She would have given anything to hear a friendly word from sister Elora, yet she was alone and far away from home. She sighed for the umpteenth time. All she had to do was try to rest, but couldn't stop thinking of Master Arbe, dead… saved by her hand.
Such was her duty, the sacred mission of an inquisitor.