Hair, Greg - Werewolf 03 by Requiem (v5.0) Read Free Book Online Page A

walked out.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     

Chapter 8: Requiem
    Guests from the local village of Dalmally began trickling in, down into the valley, early that morning. The Scottish wind blowing across the loch continuously peeked up the kilts and dresses of the men and women, respectively, in attendance.
    Nicholas stood alone in the open area in front of Kilchurn Castle, listening to the conversations of the attendees.
    “It’s nice to have some new, friendly faces around here,” said a local, middle-aged woman to her husband. “And now, we have a beautiful wedding today.”
    “Yes, but they’re a strange lot that’s moved into the castle. Where are they from? What do they do? None of them work in the village or, looking around here, do any work on this land.”
    “Oh, you don’t trust anybody. They are good people. How can bad people invite all of us to a wedding?”
    “I don’t know, but people are talking. Remember the incident in the pub, several days ago, with the werewolf? A werewolf!”
    “You weren’t even there. That’s just what you heard. It was probably a bad batch of Scotch that everyone had.”
    “And they all saw the same thing? Look, woman, I’m telling that there are strange things going on around here.”
    “Everything’s fine. You’ll see.”
    The couple’s voices trailed off as they took their seats, and Nicholas focused on two elderly gentlemen coming down the path toward the ceremony.
    “Yes, from Cladich. About two days ago.”
    “What’s the girl’s name?”
    “Colleen, or Claudia, or Carol, something like that. I don’t remember.”
    “I’m sure they’ll find her. You know kids these days, just taking off, worrying their parents. Nothing like our generation.”
    “Nothing like our generation? Remember that time you talked me into going off and joining the war with you, not telling anyone until we were shipping out?”
    “Which war?”
    “The first war, you eegit! World War One!”
    “Oh, yeah. Those were the days.”
    Nicholas’ auditory focus was suddenly broken by the fast approach of a short, pudgy, older man.
    “God has blessed you with a beautiful, warm day for a wedding,” the mayor of Dalmally said, shaking Nicholas’ hand.
    “Yes, well God is certainly the catalyst for what will transpire here today.”
    “Oh, I’m glad to hear you say that,” said the mayor in his thick Scottish accent. “Good to see that the younger people of today still believe and have not abandoned their faith in the Almighty.”
    Nicholas began to bristle.
    “Right,” said the werewolf. “If you’ll excuse me, there are important matrimonial matters to which I must attend.”
    “Of course, of course.” Dalmally’s mayor again grasped Nicholas’ hand, without permission, and shook it vigorously.
    Finally releasing himself, Nicholas walked to the front of the approximately one-hundred chairs that had been set up for attendees. Kilchurn Castle stood like a majestic usher at the back.
    “Are our bride and groom ready?” Nicholas asked Tsukiko, handing her a video camera. “And did you show them the kiss?”
    “Yes to both questions. You want me to record this?”
    “Everything that happens. Of course, you’ll need to set it up so that it will still record while you are attending to our guests immediately after the ceremony.”
    Tsukiko grabbed a nearby empty chair and set it several yards away, facing the staging area.
    “I think we’re ready,” he said, as Tsukiko returned to his side, the red light of the camera indicating its present state of recording, and the last of the local villagers took their seats. Jamie, somewhat dressed up in khaki pants and a sweater, took his position.
    “Let us begin,” Nicholas said, addressing all attendees. “Many years ago, during the Spanish Inquisition,” he began, pausing to wait for the laughter of the unsuspecting crowd to die down, before he continued, “I was ordained by the Holy Church. I will,