The Spook paused and sighed deeply. ‘I don’t believe in the God they preach about in church,’ he said. ‘I don’t believe in an old man with a white beard. But there’s something watching what we do, and if you live your life right, in your hour of need it’ll stand at your side and lend you its strength. That’s what I believe. Well, come on, lad. We’ve dawdled here long enough and had best be on our way.’
I picked up his bag and followed him. Soon we left the road and took a short cut through a wood and across a wide meadow. It was pleasant enough but we stopped long before the sun set. The Spook was too exhausted to continue and should really have been back at Chipenden, recuperating after his illness.
I had a bad feeling about what lay ahead, a strong sense of danger.
CHAPTER 4
PRIESTOWN
Priestown, built on the banks of the river Ribble, was the biggest town I’d ever visited. As we came down the hill, the river was like a huge snake gleaming orange in the light from the setting sun.
It was a town of churches, with spires and towers rising above the rows of small terraced houses. Set right on the summit of a hill, near the centre of the town, was the cathedral. Three of the largest churches I’d seen in my whole life would have easily fitted inside it. And its steeple was something else. Built from limestone, it was almost white and so high that I guessed on a rainy day the cross at its top would be hidden by clouds.
‘Is that the biggest steeple in the world?’ I asked, pointing in excitement.
‘No, lad,’ the Spook answered with a rare grin. ‘But it’s the biggest steeple in the County, as well it might be with a town that boasts so many priests. I only wish there were fewer of them but we’ll just have to take our chance.’
Suddenly the grin faded from his face. ‘Talk of the Devil!’ he said, clenching his teeth before pulling me through a gap in the hedge into the adjoining field. There he placed his forefinger against his lips for silence and made me crouch down with him, while I listened to the sound of approaching footsteps.
It was a good, thick hawthorn hedge and it still had most of its leaves, but through it I could just make out a black cassock above the boots. It was a priest!
We stayed there for quite a while even after the footsteps had faded into the distance. Only then did the Spook lead us back onto the path. I couldn’t work out what all the fuss was about. On our travels we’d passed lots of priests. They hadn’t been too friendly but we’d never tried to hide before.
We need to be on our guard, lad,’ the Spook explained. ‘Priests are always trouble but they represent a real danger in this town. You see, Priestown’s bishop is the uncle of the High Quisitor. No doubt you’ll have heard of him.’ I nodded. ‘He hunts witches, doesn’t he?’ ‘Aye, lad, he does that. When he catches someone he considers to be a witch or warlock, he puts on his black cap and becomes the judge at their trial - a trial that’s usually over very quickly. The following day he puts on a different hat. He becomes the executioner, and organizes the burning. He’s a reputation for being good at that and a big crowd usually gathers to watch. They say he positions the stake carefully so that the poor wretch takes a very long time to die. The pain is supposed to make a witch sorry for what she’s done, so she’ll beg God’s forgiveness and, as she dies, her soul will be saved. But thafs just an excuse. The Quisitor lacks the knowledge a spook has and wouldn’t know a real witch if she reached up from her grave and grabbed his ankle! No, he’s just a cruel man who likes to inflict pain. He enjoys his work and he’s grown rich from the money he makes selling the homes and property of those he condemns.
‘Aye, and that brings me to the problem for us. You see, the Quisitor counts a spook as a warlock.
The Church doesn’t like anyone to meddle with the dark, even if they’re fighting it. They think only priests should be allowed to do that. The Quisitor has the power of arrest, with armed churchwardens to do his bidding -but cheer up, lad, because that’s just the bad news.
The good news is that the Quisitor lives in a big city way to the south, far beyond the boundaries of the County, and rarely comes north. So if we’re spotted and he’s summoned, it would take him more than a week to arrive, even on horseback. Also my arrival here should be a surprise. The last thing anyone will expect is that I’ll be attending the funeral of a brother I haven’t spoken to in forty years.’
But his words were of little comfort. As we moved off down the hill, I shivered at what he’d said.
Entering the town seemed full of risks. With his cloak and staff he was unmistakably a spook. I was just about to say as much when he gestured left with his thumb and we walked off the road into a small wood. After about thirty paces or so my master came to a halt.
‘Right, lad,’ he said. Take off your cloak and give it to me.’
I didn’t argue; from the tone of his voice I realized that he meant business, but I did wonder what he was up to. He took off his own cloak with its attached hood and laid his staff on the ground.
‘Right,’ he said. ‘Now find me some thin branches and twigs. Nothing too heavy, mind.’
A few minutes later I’d done as he asked and I watched him place his staff amongst the branches and wrap the whole lot up with our cloaks. Of course, by then I’d already guessed what he was up to. Sticks were poking out of each end of the bundle and it just looked like we’d been out gathering firewood. It was a disguise.
‘There are lots of small inns close to the cathedral,’ he said, tossing me a silver coin. ‘It’ll be safer for you if we don’t stay at the same one, because if they came for me, they’d arrest you too. Best if you don’t know where I am either, lad. The Quisitor uses torture. Capture one of us and he’d soon have the other. I’ll set off first. Give me ten minutes, then follow.
‘Choose any inn that hasn’t got anything to do with churches in its title, so we don’t end up in the same one by accident. Don’t have any supper either because we’ll be working tomorrow. The funeral’s at nine in the morning but try to be early and sit near the back of the cathedral; if I’m there already, keep your distance.’
‘Working’ meant spook’s business and I wondered if we’d be going down into the catacombs to face the Bane. I didn’t like the idea of that one little bit.