Time of the Beast by Geoff Smith Read Free Book Online Page B

illusions of the mind, false images sent by Satan to lure us far from the truth…’
    ‘So you churchmen always say,’ she answered with sudden vehemence. ‘But you have lied to us. You cannot persuade me, Brother. I know the spirits are real. I see proof of it before me now! ’ She gazed out into the shadows beyond me, and I felt an icy thrill rush through my veins as I resisted a fearful urge to look over my shoulder. ‘He comes to me,’ she said fervently, ‘each night, clothed in black, his face dark with anger and rebuke. It is he… Oslac … made bitter by my betrayal. He has become the wrathful spirit! ’
    ‘No!’ I cried in desperation, reaching out to grip her hand. ‘It is not Oslac. It is something demonic… a deception of the Devil! You must renounce it – for the sake of your soul! ’ Her sunken eyes stared past me into the dimness, but whatever she saw there now felt hideously real to me.
    ‘I have heard such words before,’ she whispered, ‘from men like you. But you are the real deceivers.’ Her voice rose suddenly. ‘Husband… forgive me! I renounce my Christian faith… I set your spirit free!’
    I looked on appalled as I clung to her hand, but I was losing her as she sank exhausted into a sleep from which she might never wake, her mouth creased into what was like the faint suggestion of a mocking smile. Was it for this she had summoned me – to stand as a witness to her terrible recanting? The sense of something imminent and utterly malefic filled the air and was now unbearable as blind panic gripped me and I turned and fled from the chamber in terror. And it seemed I heard the Devil laugh at me as I blundered lost and disorientated into the labyrinth of dark corridors outside.
    I stood shaking as my fit of fear – whether real or imagined – subsided into deep feelings of mortification and defeat. At last I called out for the serving women, who came to return to their mistress and continued singing their dirge – which strangely I now recognised as a Christian psalm.

Chapter Five
    The next morning I asked to be admitted once more into Lady Hild’s presence, hoping in the light of day to find her in a more sound state of mind and to persuade her back from her dreadful apostasy. But I was told that now she lay insensible and close to death, and that a priest had been summoned on her behalf to perform the last rites. As I departed with my companions my mind was heavy with grief and shame at the memory of my abject conduct the night before and of how wretchedly I had failed both the lady and myself.
    We reached the coast that morning, located a boat and loaded it with our items, and stabled our horse. We then set sail when the high waters came, and the boatmen rowed us inland to a place where the river diverged, navigating us along a winding tributary which meandered deep into the brooding marshes. Along the banks were the dirty huts and smallholdings of the sedge-men and reed gatherers, where we bartered to procure our materials for thatching.
    At last we approached the dense woodlands which were the territory of the Crowland, and the boatmen leapt down into the water to steer the vessel onto the bank. From here we must drag our heavy cart across the marshes into the nearby woods. It was a gruelling task, and evening was upon us when finally we set up our camp among the trees close to my island. We ate our provisions in weary silence, then slept soundly in the open air, wrapped in our blankets as we lay around the fire.
    The next day the two workmen – their names were Aelfwin and Ecfrith – cut down several tall trees and constructed from these a crude but functional log-bridge across the stream to carry our tools over onto the island, digging into the ground on either side and laying bases to make the structure secure.
    Our work progressed quickly, and within days a simple dwelling took shape against one side of the solid burial mound. The two men at first seemed averse to