Suddenly the evil presence was receding; Matt could feel it speeding away. Jord’s eyes rolled up; he went limp and fell, crumpled at the feet of the dark form, which instantly shot away, blurring with speed.
Matt stared after it, not understanding his sudden rescue. Apparently the dark form had nothing to do with the evil presence—of course not, if it had been trying to restrain Jord and had scattered the wolves.
But the presence was still there, distant, gathering strength again. Matt recited a quick healing verse:
He could feel strength returning to his leg. Stooping, he managed to wrestle Jord’s torso over his shoulder, then ducked his head under the man’s midriff, gathered a wrist and a leg together, and heaved himself up, Jord over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. Turning, he saw a flame in the night, then realized it was on the steps of the church. He lurched toward it, carrying Jord and wondering who or what the dark blurring had been that had helped him.
As he went he heard noises gathering around him, the padding of huge feet stalking, approaching. He was about to run when barking and roaring broke out, the snapping and cracking of brush, the impact of a heavy body. He stumbled into a run, hearing huge claws tearing up the village green, coming closer and closer—but they ended in a scream of rage and the sound of blows, then the impact of something else huge.
Matt didn’t stop to look, just lurched toward the church, blessing his unseen protector.
Suddenly, the feeling of the unseen presence was gone; suddenly he knew he was completely safe, and knew he had crossed the line of the warding circle he had laid himself, hours earlier. He lumbered up the steps of the church, panting and staring in amazement. “Friar Gode! How did you know we needed you?”
“There was a deal of noise following you,” the friar answered. “I could not see who fought whom, but I prayed for those who love God to win.”
“You may have helped more than you knew.” Matt rolled Jord off his shoulders and laid him out on the stone step. “I’m about to put you to the test of your convictions, though, friar. Here’s a man who needs your mercy.”
Gode dropped to one knee, frowning down, then stared. “It is the false druid!”
“Yes, but he’s seen the error of his ways,” Matt said, “rather forcibly, too. He wants to repent—at least, he did before—” He swallowed, remembering the demonic face behind the swinging staff.”—before this happened.”
The friar’s face turned stern, but he said, “If he wishes to repent, he shall have his chance.” He patted Jord’s cheek gently. “Waken, brother! The night is long, but the day always comes! Waken, and tell me how your soul fares.”
Matt looked up in surprise, and saw that the sky was indeed lightening. He wondered just how long he and Jord had been fleeing through that nighttime forest Eyelids fluttered; Jord peered upward, frowning against the pain in his head. Then he saw who bent over him, and stared in fear and horror.
CHAPTER 15
Jord shrank into a ball, hands up to protect his face. “Spare me! Forgo your revenge!”
“Why, so I shall,” Friar Gode said. “Do you come to attack the church of God, or to pray?”
Jord peered over his hands, saw the gentle, grave expression on the friar’s face, and lowered his guard. “I come to pray.”
Something howled out there on the village green. Something else answered it, yammering in anger.
Jord cringed. “I come to pray! I come to repent! Save me, friar! Save me from the sharp white teeth in the night!”
Heavy panting sounded, coming closer, spreading wide on all three sides.
Jord seized the friar’s robe and pulled himself up, crying, “Save me! A fury filled my soul only minutes ago, thirsting for blood, shooting agony through every part of me! My soul gibbers at the thought of being so possessed again! Save me from that horror, friar!”
“Why, so I shall.” Gently, Gode pried Jord’s hands loose and slipped a roll of cloth from his robe. He shook it out into a strip with a cross embroidered at each end, and placed it around his neck. Matt saw it was a stole, the badge of office that every Roman Catholic priest wears when he is administering the sacraments, the sign that he is functioning in his official capacity rather than his private one. The friar looked up at Matt. “Go farther off, goodman. I must see this man reconciled with God before he comes into the church.”
Matt nodded and paced away, down the steps to just inside the invisible boundary of the warding circle. He stiffened, feeling the malignant presence return, towering over him, ready to fall on him, but he stood his ground, glaring defiantly upward into the gloom. He never would have had the courage to do it in his own world, but he had plucked up the nerve to face his enemies in Merovence, and was knighted for his pains. With the knighthood had come far more bravery than he had ever known, so he could stand with narrowed eyes, trying to stare down a malignancy he could not see, even though he felt another gathering close to it on one side and a third on the other side, then another and another. But he stared unafraid, for he stood on consecrated ground bordered by his own warding circle.
He paced its arc, hearing behind him Jord’s murmured confessing of his sins. Matt tried not to listen, not that he could have understood a word anyway—he was too far from them. The presences moved with him, and he realized it was himself they had come for, though if they did manage to overwhelm him, Jord and the friar would be engulfed right after him. He wished the former false druid would hurry up and finish his confession. He also began to understand why the Devil tempted people to desecrate holy places.
Then, somehow, the malignancy seemed to lighten. Matt turned to stare outward, wondering what had happened—and Buckeye stepped out of the gloom. “You could at least thank me for safe conduct.”
Matt stared in amazement. “So it was you fighting off the monsters I couldn’t see!”
“Yes, and you burned my hide for it,” Buckeye said indignantly, and turned his back to show Matt a patch of singed fur. Matt swallowed, feeling horrible. “Sorry. I didn’t know my helper was vulnerable to blessings. Look, at least I didn’t say whose blessing I was calling for.”
“Thanks for small favors,” Buckeye sniffed.
Matt felt suddenly apprehensive—if the bauchan had been able to defy the invisible evil entities that surrounded him, it had to have stronger magic than he had thought. Matt hoped Buckeye didn’t want to get back at him too badly. “Did you fight off the wolves, too?”
“Wolves!” Buckeye said with contempt. “They are nothing. Know that we creatures of the forest understand one another, mortal, and if I comprehend the viciousness of their packs, they in return know the danger of my magic and my whims. The night-walkers, now, they are another matter, but there is enough malice in me to let me walk among them, and enough goodness to shield me. Spirits fear one another, too, mortal man, and know one another’s power.”
“Standing up to them must have taken a lot of courage, then,” Matt said.
Buckeye seemed to still inside, and for a moment there was nothing of the bantering or mischievous about him. “Some bravery, yes. I knew I could master any one of them, after all, but I could not be sure they would not league against me.” Then the moment passed, and his grin flashed forth once more. “But they did not—they are creatures made solitary by their spite and jealousy, and will not ally with one another if they can avoid it. In this case, they were too slow to recognize necessity, as I had thought they would be.”