LITMIR.BIZ

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flopped down on the couch and leaned back into a softly yielding corner of the large piece of furniture.

      “Very classy, comfy. None of your superstore rubbish here, eh?”

      “Adam,” D’Scover’s voice had taken on an even more sombre tone, “I am prepared to give you the answers that you need.”

      “That’s all very well, Mr Mysterious,” replied Adam, “but I don’t know what the questions are, do I? Can I have a clue?”

      D’Scover sighed. “Maybe if I explained more about the Brotherhood, you would have a greater understanding.”

      “Worth a shot.” Adam swivelled round to put his feet up on the couch and rested his hands behind his head. “Let’s give it a go.”

      “I will not be explaining this in the conventional fashion; it is a little more complicated than I have time for. I will use a technique I developed for the Brotherhood.”

      “You’re the boss,” Adam quipped. “Bring it on.”

      “Adam, please try to take this seriously.”

      “I am.” Adam sat up again. “Honest, I’ll be serious.”

      D’Scover turned from him and made a gesture in the air with his fingers. The chair from his desk swivelled round and slid across the room towards him and he sat down, facing Adam.

      “You have to show me how to do that stuff.” Adam pointed at the chair. “That is too cool.”

      “Close your eyes and listen carefully to my voice.” D’Scover ignored Adam’s comment and carried on. “Let the images come into your mind and do not resist anything that happens.”

      “Well, that all sounds totally creepy, but if you say so.” Adam half closed his eyes and rested his head on the cushions of the couch.

      “In the sixteenth century,” D’Scover began, “Europe was ruled then as now by kings and politics, but disease and poverty were its real masters and had been so for centuries. Plague still marched across the civilised world and poverty was both companion and assistant to this horror.”

      D’Scover’s voice had fallen to a soft tone that lulled Adam into listening closely, and as he did so, he realised that the edges of the room had begun to blur. He could no longer make out every word that D’Scover was saying, and felt he must be falling asleep. Shadows walked at the edges of his vision and dark shapes loomed around them. The shadows gradually began to take a stronger shape and he could see that they were people in simple, ragged clothes moving between dirty, rustic buildings. Soon the office had faded completely to be replaced by a perfect tableau that looked as if it had fallen from the pages of a history book.

      Adam turned about himself with a start and looked upon a scene that was apparently solid and real; he marvelled at the detail of his dream. He jumped back in fear as a cart rumbled past him along a muddy road, throwing up a shower of earth and water, and realised this was more than just a vision. He looked down at his legs and saw that the filthy water had passed straight through him. The people around him were not the illusion here – he was.

      Around him everyone carried on with their daily grind of work, but to Adam it looked as though food was not part of this equation. The people were thinner than anyone he had ever seen. Even in the homeless hostels and crowded doorways of London no one had looked as near to death as the gathering he saw before him. Children carried baskets of wood past him and Adam could see nothing but the spectre of a young death in their grey faces. He walked on, turning away as the pathetic wretches came close to him. He knew how it must have been for those who had once passed him by in the streets towards the end of his own life. It was not that they didn’t care, just that they didn’t know what to do to make it better.

      Forcing himself to watch, he continued through the village, stepping over rivers of human waste as he went, despite the fact that he knew it could not touch him. Some of the villagers staggered from house to house with dirty bandages flapping from their diseased limbs. Others recoiled in horror as they passed and clutched their filthy sleeves to their faces in a pathetic attempt to prevent infection. Adam knew from the rough plague crosses daubed on many doors that in these shabby houses lay the sick and dying.

      D’Scover’s words hung in the air, a soft rhythm of sound that throbbed and built up this world of pestilence further.

      “Villages . . . struggled . . . poverty . . . plague . . . feudal lords . . . controlled . . . population . . . iron grip.” D’Scover continued with his speech and as Adam listened to the soft, intermittent music of his voice around him, there unfolded a world as vivid and real as the one Adam had once lived in.

      “Plague . . . stronghold . . . weakened population . . . no resistance. Travelling . . . Europe . . . rats . . . decimated . . . cities . . . too few alive to bury . . . dead . . . superstition . . . ghosts stalked . . . living . . . demons . . . assumed . . . control . . . damned . . . village. Time passed . . . spectre of disease . . . rose from the darkness . . . slaughter more and more people . . . religious houses . . . met . . . discuss . . . solution.”

      Adam could see this world unfolding around him as real as if he had been born into it. D’Scover stood – a weak shadow by his side – explaining. The scene changed and began to fade from the foul horror of the villages to the towering mass of a great cathedral that now grew up around him. Its creamy walls climbed high above and brilliant light streamed in through a tall plain-paned glass window. Around him sat a large body of men, all dressed in elaborate, highly coloured robes.

      Adam realised that these were the heads of religious houses, monks and priests, cardinals – men from all aspects of the religious world and from all over Europe gathered together. He saw and understood deeply that they could no longer cope with caring for those who were suffering. These realisations came to him in a rush that made his head spin. It was the most intensive history lesson imaginable as D’Scover laid out the monastic world and high-church life in front of Adam’s stunned eyes.

      The congregation shuffled uneasily in the dark wood high-backed chairs and a solemn murmur ran around the gathered men. An elderly abbot in a dark purple robe slowly and stiffly rose to his feet and cleared his throat. A hush descended on the gathering and he began to speak.

      “Brothers,” he said in a voice heavy with age, “this is the darkest time we have ever known.” A rumble of agreement rippled around him.

      “The king moves closer to breaking down our great houses, closer than he has ever done before. If we do not take this threat seriously, then all of our efforts have been for nothing.”

      The congregation clearly supported this man. Spurred on, he continued.

      “Here we have gathered time after time, talking our throats raw, and still we have come no closer to an accord. All of you have made arrangements for your greatest texts and many have taken to moving silver and monies to places of safety.”

      A hearty laugh burst from several of the older men who knew which of the priests the speaker was referring to.

      “We have all taken steps to protect that which we hold dear, but it is not enough. We have an obligation to others. Try as we might to ignore the truth of this, we can no longer afford to do so. We must take the warnings of Father Dominic of the Benedictines seriously.”

      With this statement, the crowd suddenly split angrily and faces began to grow red with the shouting. Some of the men stood and tried to shout down the abbot.

      “HEAR ME!” he bellowed above the mêlée and they listened once more. “Plague has irrevocably damaged the beliefs of our world. As more were taken by the pestilence, belief was diminished and the strength of our world is weakened. With less people to believe, more and more spirits have become trapped in the world of the living instead of passing on. Father Dominic’s theories have been borne out. How many of you can say that you have not had reports from your diocese about spirits walking amongst the living? We must hear what Father Dominic has to say, and this threat must be dealt with. It is our solemn duty.

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