Lady Arabella, Page 4

When Father Tomos finished blessing the family kneeling in front of the altar, he approached and acknowledged Lady Arabella and then cast his icy glare on William. “So, William Cairnby, you are the first to see us without our assistance and without dying on us.”

  William stared at the priest without utterance. He felt colder than he thought possible, and fear grew in his heart.

  After a few moments of eerie silence, Father Tomos spoke again. “You have done well Lady Arabella, but he is most unsuitable for our purposes.”

  “What? How can you say that Father Tomos?” Lady Arabella was unable to believe what she heard. “Surely you are mistaken. He must be the one. After all this time with no one else . . .”

  “No my Lady, I am not mistaken. We will have to wait even longer, even though it pains me greatly.”

  William turned to look at each in turn, bewildered and confused. The two spirits were arguing over his suitability to do whatever it was they required him to do, which was something they had not yet divulged. He gazed at Lady Arabella, whose expression revealed her shock; her eyes, panic and fear. Father Tomos’ expression was one of neutrality. He saw no emotion what-so-ever on his face or in his eyes.

  The priest looked at William with a dour expression. “Dr. William Cairnby, I’m afraid you are unsuitable for our purposes, and so you are now destined to remain here with us until that one appears.”

  William’s anger exploded. “What? You have no right to do this to me. You drag my spirit from my body to this spirit world without my consent, if that’s where I really am, and now you tell me I’m destined to remain here forever!” As his anger continued to rise, he also felt much stronger and more in control.

  “Right! Right! You talk of what is right. Did those who slaughtered us four centuries ago think about our rights to live? Did they have the right to kill men, women, and even children without just reason! Yes, children. Did we not have the right to live our lives in peace? Don’t you dare talk of me of rights Dr. Cairnby. You people who strip our land of the bodies that should be left in peace to rest; you who in the name of historical research desecrate our graves and our remains, our very existence. Have you not desecrated the bodies of good friends, carelessly handling our bones as if they were trophies?”

  Father Tomos was becoming livid, and although William understood the priest’s point of view, he became concerned for his life. He tried to suppress the growing panic and focussed on the facts, allowing his anger to remain the dominant emotion, which helped him focus. The priest knew nothing about his dealings with the past, nor the respect he showed for the dead.

  “You dare lecture me on the sanctity of life and of death, condemn those who murdered you centuries before I was born, and then do exactly the same? If you bothered to heed the truth, which you obviously had no intent doing from the beginning, you would know perfectly well that I was collecting the bones to place in proper coffins. When that was done, they were to be reburied in fresh graves, which, for your information, is all I have ever done. I do not desecrate the resting places of the dead.” The anger in William’s voice was growing, as was the volume, and now all those gathered in the abbey were watching with keen interest.

  “I only rescue the remains of those that are threatened with destruction, and those that were uncovered by the storm will be treated in the same way, with respect. I do not need to desecrate the dead to uncover history, unlike some, and have never condoned such treatment.”

  “Oh yes, to protect and preserve by displaying for all to see in glass coffins as those in the aisle outside the nave.”

  Lady Arabella had moved a few steps backward as the anger began to flare, and was sorely disappointed in Father Tomos. She knew William was the answer to their prayers, the one who would free them from their living hell, and here was the one who promised it would happen, condemning the one to the same punishment.

  The priest’s voice was filled with anger and bitterness, and was being directed at William regardless of what he said. The fact that he assumed William was party to such offensive treatment of the dead appalled and infuriated the historian. How he was going to resolve his predicament eluded him. As far as he knew, he might already be dead, and the priest merely toying with him.

  “Father Tomos,” pleaded Lady Arabella, “he is right. We cannot take any more spirits from the world of the living. They, nor Dr. Cairnby, are responsible for what happened to us all those years ago. Besides, my spirit is weary of hearing their constant pleading to be released, having been plucked from a life in a manner worse than we ourselves were. Must we add another innocent one to our congregation of the dead?”

  Father Tomos stared at the lady. “It’s the only way to secure atonement,” he said without feeling.

  Lady Arabella glared at the priest with tear filled eyes and sorrow in her heart. She had had enough. She wanted to rest, wanted to be free from the prison wherein she had been incarcerated for four hundred years.

  “You cannot keep me here,” retorted William. “I know nothing of the slaughter you mention, who or why it was done, let alone being a descendent of those who committed the atrocity.” His anger rose to new heights, but so did his concern. His spirit was becoming more translucent, and he knew his life was coming to an end.

  The priest laughed. “I can and I will. You are now transcending into our world permanently. I have but to touch your forehead and it will all be over.” There was a sinister tone to his voice.

  Lady Arabella looked at the priest and saw the evil in his eyes, the intent that would result in their imprisonment lasting even longer. She wondered how long it would be before another candidate arrived: A year, a hundred, a thousand! Even one day was a day too long. She turned to face William; sadness and regret etched into her expression.

  William glanced at her and felt her grief. “I don’t blame you Lady Arabella. You had no idea what this evil man intended.”

  The priest stepped forward and William took a couple of steps back. He glared at the priest. “How dare you think you have the right to murder innocent people? In committing such acts you associate yourself with those who murdered you, and more than that; it makes you worse than they ever were, evil and corrupt. You call yourself a priest, a man of the cloth, a man of righteousness, but what kind of priest are you really?” he said pointing his finger at him. “You are a priest of evil and spawned of evil. You are twisted, malicious, and doomed to an eternity of unrest and torment. In your anger and resentment, you condemn all those with you to an eternity of pain and suffering, but that’s not all is it? In recompense for your fate, you inflict that same torment and unrest on others who deserved to live just as you did.”

  William’s fear turned to determination and intense fury. “You are the devil incarnate, and I swear priest, if you insist on killing me, my spirit will further increase your torment and suffering far beyond what you experience now.”

  Lady Arabella was crying uncontrollably. “Father Tomos, please listen to him. You know he can carry out his oath because of his stance and claim of justice. I know you are not an evil man, never was, so where has your compassion gone?” Her voice trembled with grief, but as she continued, the anger arose afresh. “This is the first real chance we have had to be set free for over two centuries. Will you condemn us to many more just because you feel he is not the right one? Killing innocent people will never bring us peace.”

  Tears streamed down her face, and the families gathered began pleading with him to relent, to listen to reason, and let them have a chance of peace.

  Hearing the people’s support gave Lady Arabella a stronger voice. “It is clear to me, Father Tomos, that your actions have increased and lengthened our torment and suffering unnecessarily. It must end now, or do you want us to spend another four centuries in this prison?”

  William watched the priest carefully for a change of heart and was pleased, but surprised to see him break down. It had started the moment he called him the devil incarnate; the words cutting to the core of
his troubled spirit. At that moment he recalled the anguish and pain when the soldiers stormed the chapel, the screams as swords fell, and the look of delight on the perpetrators’ faces.

  Tears flowed from his eyes, and then his legs buckled. He fell to his knees as the grief and regret overwhelmed his spirit. He looked up at William. There was a kindness in his eyes that had been hidden because of his resentment and anger. Now the barrier had been broken, and his former kindness and love was free to flow through his spirit once more. He was a broken man, a contrite man who now saw how foolish and twisted he had become.

  “I beg your forgiveness Dr. Cairnby. I truly lost sight of all I believed in, in righteousness and goodness. You are free to return to your life,” he said. He struggled to his feet, and was helped by Lady Arabella, who was overcome with joy, as were those gathered around. Her tears glistened in the rays of sunlight as they fell from her cheeks, and as they hit the floor, they shattered as if they were glass. The shards sparkled as they floated up into the air, and then disappeared in a haze of colour.

  When Father Tomos recovered his composure, he knelt before William with his head bowed. “If you can find it in your heart to forgive a broken man of his failure, and have compassion on those gathered here, although I have no right to ask this of you anymore.”

  “Maybe not, Father Tomos, but you ask for the benefit of those who are imprisoned with you, not just for yourself. Of course I can forgive you. I’m not a man who is unable to show compassion, nor am I unsympathetic to the plight of others. Please ask.”

  “First, I must tell of that fateful day.”

  William sat on one of the pews and listened intently, Lady Arabella sitting beside him.

  Father Tomos sat in the pew in front and turned to face William. “It was four hundred and seventeen years ago. We were gathered here at the abbey one Sunday morning. . .”

  “Lady Arabella, it is so good to see you here again. I trust you are well.”

  “I am, Father Tomos, thank you. It is a wonderful day, is it not? God has blessed us with sunshine and warmth.”

  Father Tomos smiled. “He has indeed, my Lady. The fields are ripe for the harvest, the store cupboards are well stocked, and peace fills our hearts.”

  Lady Arabella kneeled, bowed her head and the priest gave her the Lord’s blessing. She looked up and took the bread, then the wine and received the second blessing.

  “Peace be with you always,” said the priest.

  Lady Arabella arose and returned to her seat where she knelt and prayed. The other families followed, one by one, until all had received holy-communion and the blessing.

  While the priest was performing the service, Sir Peter Feltchor sat astride his horse at the top of the hill overlooking the abbey. He was the sworn enemy of Sir Eldred Pitern and coveted all he possessed, including the land wherein the village of Camdollen was situated.

  The sergeant at arms appeared at his side. “My Lord, we await your command.”

  Sir Feltchor sighed. “We have received information that the group of criminals we are hunting has taken refuge in the abbey here in Camdollen. They have been accused and found guilty of conspiring against the King. There is only one punishment for treachery: Death. Sergeant, you are to take your men, root out the perpetrators and put them to death.”

  “Yes, my Lord. What of the priest and anyone else inside the abbey? It is Sunday and there will be many worshiping there.”

  “Do as you see fit, sergeant. No one is to bear witness to the deaths of those we hunt. Anyone who can be accused of harbouring these outlaws is to be put to death as a warning to anyone else.”

  “I understand, my Lord.”

  Father Tomos finished reciting the final prayer of service and the people prepared to leave. As Lady Arabella arose, the sergeant burst into the abbey, sword in hand. He was followed by fifteen rough, unkempt soldiers.

  “Where are they, priest?” he demanded.

  “This is the house of God. You will put away your weapons or leave,” said Father Tomos.

  “Answer me priest, where are they?

  “Of whom do you speak?”

  “A group of traitors was seen entering this abbey two days ago. They are to be taken from here to face justice.”

  “We have seen no strangers here sergeant. The ones whom you speak of must have come in the night and left before any of us saw them. I assure you, we would never act against the King, for to do so would be defying God.”

  The sergeant did not believe the priest. “Search the abbey and find them,” he said walking toward Father Tomos.

  “Sergeant, you will not find anyone hiding in this abbey. We may under God’s law give sanctuary to those who seek it, but we have not done so for many months. I implore you to believe me.”

  “We shall see.” The sergeant stood facing the priest as he comforted some of those gathered. A short while later, soldiers dragged four men into the nave. “No one hiding here was there priest?”

  “Sergeant, they are humble villagers who tend the abbey gardens. We depend on their help at this time of year.”

  The sergeant laughed. “Liar.” He turned to face the soldiers restraining the men. “Kill them all, everyone.”

  Lady Arabella screamed in protest, the sergeant turned, smiled and run her through with his sword. He laughed as he watched her face crease in agony and as he withdrew his sword, pushed her backwards with his foot. He turned on the priest and the slaughter began.

  When all in the nave were dead, the sergeant sent half of his men to search the rest of the abbey and the grounds, and kill everyone they found. All of the bodies were then dragged or carried outside. A large grave was dug on the hillside, wherein the bodies were unceremoniously dumped and the grave refilled.

  Unknown to the soldiers and Sir Feltchor, the whole event had been witnessed by one of Sir Pitern’s soldiers. That night, Lord Eldred Pitern and the villagers exhumed the bodies and reburied them in oak coffins. They did not place headstones or markers at the graves to protect them from desecration by Sir Feltchor’s men. Unfortunately, Sir Pitern was murdered shortly afterwards, and the villagers dared not speak openly of anything regarding the events of that night.

  “How do you know of Sir Feltchor’s involvement?” asked William.

  “When my spirit was first condemned to roam this abbey, I overheard villagers talking amongst themselves. They spoke of how he conspired against Sir Pitern, and the atrocities that followed shortly afterwards. In time, the truth was forgotten, and Sir Feltchor would never be punished for what he had done.”

  “So what must I do?”

  “You have to reveal the truth of what happened here. Only when that is done and Sir Feltchor’s reputation is stained, can we be released from this eternal prison. They will listen to you William, because of who you are.”

  “I will do what I can for the sake of the people gathered here,” said William as he stood and entered the aisle.

  “That is all any of us can ask,” replied Father Tomos.

  Lady Arabella sighed in relief and joined William in the aisle. She faced him, smiled, and then embraced him tightly before kissing him softly on the lips. It was a strange but warming kiss despite her lips being as cold as ice. She held the kiss longer than William expected her to, but as she did, warmth flooded into her spirit and both of their spirits solidified momentarily.

  William smelt the aroma of her perfume, the scent of her body. He felt her breath on his face and the warmth of her love filled his spirit. It was the love for the one whom she was to have wed many centuries ago, which she now shared with William for agreeing to help release them. As the sensations travelled through his spirit, he sensed a change, not only in Lady Arabella and Father Tomos, but also in himself, but did not know what it was or what effect it would have on him.

  Lady Arabella knew without doubt William would succeed where everyone else had failed. She looked at him with longing in her heart and desire in her eyes, but she knew they could never
be joined, not without him joining her in the spirit world.

  The priest approached William when Lady Arabella moved aside. “I must touch your forehead for you to return to life.” He raised his hand and William froze, looking deeply concerned.

  “Do not be afraid,” said Father Tomos. “This is the only way I can send you back.” He reached out and placed his palm on William’s forehead.

  William felt a strange power flowing through him, and almost recoiled as it impacted on his spirit. His mind swirled, he became disorientated and nauseous. Then everything went black.

  Chapter Five