Infinite Blue Heaven - A King and A Queen (36 page)

She was a truly amazing woman.

And so we sat, side by side in the Royal Carriage, painted and decorated in gold and with six coachmen, dressed in Royal Red and sixteen white horses leading us.

The noise from the thousands of Well-wishers cheering at us was deafening and we smiled at each other, for gladness at the day that had come and for amusement at the secret we hid. As we crossed the Palace grounds and reached the Gate, I saw many people who had played a part in the last year’s events. First there was Meth Medir, his sons Ashan, Dimez and Ochnud and all his tribe, on the left and the Palace Guard, their blue plumes wafting gently in the breeze on the right. At the end of the Guard, in a wicker wheelchair sat General Geb-Gab, smiling up at me. He had lain in a fever for weeks, with his wife beside him, searching for a way to live and had found it. He could not speak but communicated by pointing with a stick held in his mouth, at letters. Beyond him was Ahmed and his family and then Abutalip, Sabitzan and their men and all the other soldiers, nearly two thousand strong.

In the place of the dead Generals, I had ordered their horses, or a white horse if theirs had not survived, to stand, dressed in their colours, and as we passed each horse, I remembered Abdil’khan and Edil’bai, Kazangap, Zhuan’zhuan and young Yedigei and wished that their souls would live in the fouls that these horses might sire.

Next were the wives and families of the soldiers, including those women who had been in Meth Medir’s hareem, and each smiled indulgently at me. When the blonde with the buxom body smiled at me, I had to look away, hoping that Shakira had not noticed, but unfortunately she had. She glared at the woman for a moment and then waved at the crowds to the left. I saw a few soldiers singing the words to the rhyme about Shakira.

Oh The Princess lay a-sleeping,

On a hot a cloudless day.

The Princess lay asleeping,

On a bed of hay.

But I motioned for them to be silent, smiling at them. They smiled back.

Finally, to the left, among many guests who had been invited from all around the realm, I saw Moddei, the Innkeeper, his son, daughter-in-law, grand-daughter and little Boris, waving enthusiastically at us. Boris saluted me as we passed and I made as if holding a lance, to show him I remembered his gift and that we would be friends forever. I was sure he would make a fine soldier, even a General one day.

Lord Sarala and his wife, poor Ukabala and Natalya, wife of Lord Abdil’Khan were in a carriage behind us and the rest of the courtiers in carriages, or on foot, depending on their rank, behind us. Even Gregor and Bear had a carriage to themselves, Bear lolling lazily with his jowls resting on the window’s edge, while the crowd looked curiously at him.

Passing up the hill and through the town, by midday we reached the Chapel.

Inside were gathered all the Royalty from every Kingdom on our borders, each accompanied by two of our Royal Guards, just for their safety of course. Only the King of Uran, my probable enemy, had not been invited.

The Chapel bells which head pealed the traditional Wedding Day call to Chapel, since the early hours halted and the square in front of the white stucco Chapel was silent. I looked up at the blue sky, with just a few scudding clouds and then at the thousands of smiling faces among a sea of colours, reds of all shades, blues, greens and gold and silver.

“God. I never thought this day would come,” said Shakira. “I am so happy.”

I took her hand as we descended from the carriage.

The trumpets blared a fanfare as we entered the Chapel and walked down the aisle to the Priest and the altar.

Soon he pronounced us man and wife and the cheers rang out throughout the Realm.

“I am so happy, I am filled with joy,” said Shakira as we kissed and held each other tightly.

“Me too.” I said.

We went in procession back to the Palace, all our Royal guests following and a mighty party started, one which lasted for weeks.

And in the Royal Chambers, Shakira and I lay on the bed together.

“I am going to get completely new sheets and maybe even a new bed in here, before long,” she said.

“What’s wrong with this one?”

“It’s my bedroom now.”

We made love as we have never made love, that night. It was slow and gentle, as my hand moved up and down her lovely body, a woman’s body, held to a beautiful, pallid glow by the candles all around the room. And when I entered her, it was a warm, trusting moment pure pleasure for both of us.

“My King,” she said.

“My Queen,” I said.

* * *

Ordo Lupus and the Temple Gate

Lazlo Ferran

PRINTING HISTORY

Second Edition

Copyright © 2010 by Lazlo Ferran

All Rights Reserved

Acknowledgments

Thanks to Ash, Derek, Ellen, Gary, Janet and Lorna.

Cover design by Gary Kuyper.

Chapter One

“I feel so alone. Even though there’s a whole city’s congregation in the Cathedral, 158 feet below me, none of them know I am here or the battle that is about to take place above them. I crouch down behind the sarcophagus, right next to the builder’s hoist, my hand near the knot that ties the rope to the massive oak roof-brace. And I wait. I am recording all this on the mini cassette recorder I have brought with me.

How did I get here?

Obviously the little wolf-angel statues had led me to this place and moment in time, and you could say that it started in childhood with the incident in Highgate Cemetary, but really, the hinge-point, or the point at which my life became unhinged, was the murder of Annie.”

I felt as if we were under water. The air around us rippled and shifted like the surface of a clear sea, seen from underneath. Suddenly a dark slit seemed to open and something horrific came through it.

“Annie!” I screamed and threw her behind me, against the wall, crushing her there. A long, scaly arm whipped around me and took hold of her arm. It pulled her with a strength far greater than my own and though, in desperation, I pulled against it, the arm and the hideous black body that towered over me, topped with something like a giant snake's head, pulled Annie into the slit.

With one last scream of, “Daddy!” she was gone and the slit closed up. I ran at it, clawing at the air but there was nothing there.

“Please God, no!” I cried at the top of my lungs, the tears starting to fall. I did not understand at all what had happened, but the simple fact that Annie was gone was the only thing that mattered. I fell to my knees and wept for a few minutes, before the will to search and do something, gained strength inside me. I walked around sobbing, looking into every doorway, around every corner and eying every car suspiciously, before finally somebody saw the state I was in and spoke to me.

I couldn’t speak for the sobbing and I started to hyperventilate, desperate for help, but unable to get my emotions under control.

Hearing my confused mix of French and English, the middle-aged man spoke in English. “Wait here Monsieur. I will get help! I will only be a minute.” He ran to the end of the street and called out something in French. Several voices answered and he ran back. “Just a few minutes Monsieur.” The normally pretty, tree-lined street of Nevers, looked like a scene from Thérèse Raquin. Murder had taken place and all was black and rotten.

The Gendarmes arrived and one of them recognised me from the earlier accident. I explained as best I could what had happened, at first believing that truth was best, but when their faces looked back at me with indulgent sympathy, I simply said that something or somebody had grabbed my daughter. A search was launched and before long I was in the police station with Rose holding my hand, the whole of Nevers ringing to the sound of sirens. Of course I was distraught, as was Rose, and at first she exerted enormous self-control to appear calm, but as each hour passed and nothing happened, she began to grow angry.

“You should have taken her on the main road. What were you thinking!”

Her angry words became a torrent and I felt an anger rising in me too. I had not told her what I had actually seen but finally I could take it no more. “It was a snake,” I said quietly.

“What?”

I took a very deep breath before continuing. I felt a mad laugh forming in my mouth as I talked – as it dawned on me that my wife would not believe me. “I don’t know if the Gendarmes told you but Annie was almost hit by a car earlier. I pulled her out of the way just in time. It was that ‘evil presence’ again. That is why I took the side street. Then suddenly the air around us seemed to distort and there was a kind of slit in it. Out of this something came, maybe five metres tall – like a snake with – with ermm wings. It had arms too and it reached for Annie and – and took her!” I burst into tears again as I finished.

To my surprise Rose put her arm around me. “Oh Darling.” She seemed to believe me and the relief was a release for me. I clutched at her and sobbed into her soft and sweet-smelling pink cardigan.

A uniformed Gendarmes brought us each a cup of coffee and turned to leave us. We heard a chorus of loud voices starting up behind him and I stepped over to find out what was happening. The man who had given us the coffee stepped in front of me, blocking my path. “S’il vous plaît Monsieur. Asseyez-vous et attendez-nous.”

“This is bad Rose. I know it!” I could see from the look of panic in her eyes that she agreed.

“Monsieur. It is very bad news. I am sorry.” A well dressed officer in plain clothes was addressing us but we hardly heard his voice. He said something to the effect that a girl had been found viciously killed and they believed it was our daughter. They would need us to identify the body as soon as we could.

We held hands as we looked at the little body. Even her face had been mutilated but we recognised our little girl. Rose couldn’t look but I had the unbearable urge to lift the sheet and look at the body. The Coroner’s assistant grabbed my hand to stop me but I gave him such a challenging look he pulled his hand away. The sight was enough not only to make me weep for Annie’s soul but for my own too. The indescribable horror of it all left us feeling numb, and over the next few weeks which stretched like forlorn eternities, we simply sat around the house staring into space, going through the most basic routines to get through the day. We never looked at each other. Edward had gone to stay with my mother in London, but even the burden of this guilt added to our sorrows. Mourning was so difficult because neither of us understood what had happened. However, it was only at THe end of those two heart-broken weeks that I discovered exactly what it was that Rose didn’t understand.

The Gendarmes’ report had made the case that Annie had been murdered by a perverted psychopath and although I had been helpful with my evidence, I’d had to avoid a description, by saying I had not seen the killers face, in order that they conduct any enquiry at all. We had even made the national newspapers and we often read them, not so much out of a wish to find any new evidence but because it seemed to keep Annie alive in some way. We hated each other for doing it though, and when we spoke it was usually hateful or at best polite.

I was surprised then when Rose looked up from another article one evening and said, “You did the right thing.”

“What?”

“Keeping quiet about that wretched snake thing.”

“Oh. Well they wouldn’t have believed me.”

“No. But I need to know now, darling. I cannot wait any longer. What
did
happen?”

“What do you mean?”

“I have listened to your story for too long now. You are sick and we both know it. I
have
protected you but now I need to know. You have to give me that much. I will keep quiet. Trust me.”

“No! I mean – no I am not sick. That is really what I saw. You know, about my special, erm, talent!. I have a special sense for evil and you have
seen
this happening.”

“Oh you and your ‘special sight’! Just stop it! I don’t want to hear about it any more. It’s just luck or coincidence or whatever. It doesn’t explain what happened to our little girl.”

“You didn’t see the body. You didn’t see
Annie.
She looked like she had been squeezed by something!
”

“It could have been anything. Who knows what a perverted psychopath might do to a body.”