Under the Witches' Moon 37 – Gallizier · Verses Across
Literature · Historical Fiction
Under the Witches' Moon 37Book the Fourth · The Return of the Moor
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Literature · Historical Fiction
Under the Witches' Moon 37
Book the Fourth · The Return of the Moor
GallizierEnglish
In a domed chamber of the Emperor's Tomb there sat two personages engaged in whispered conversation, Basil and a weird hooded phantom that seemed part of the dread shadows which crowded in upon the room, quenching the dying light of day. Deep silence reigned. Only the monotonous tread of the sentries broke the stillness as they made the rounds above them.
It was Basil who spoke.
"All is going well! We shall prevail! We shall set up the throne of Ebony in the stead of the Cross. I bow to your wisdom, my master! The promised reward shall not fail you!"
As he spoke, the thin, black arm of his vis-a-vis trembled for a moment in the ample folds of his black gown. Then, with a quick, bird-like movement, a thin hand, twisted like a claw, wrinkled and yellow, was stretched out towards the Grand Chamberlain.
On the second finger of this claw there was a ring. Basil bent and kissed it.
Basil began to speak in his ordinary, conversational tone, but there was a strange gleam in his eyes.
"It has been accomplished," he said. "They tell me all Rome is astir!"
The voice that replied seemed to come from a great distance; the lips of the waxen face hardly moved. They parted, that was all.
"It has been done! I took it myself! It was the Host which the Cardinal of Ravenna had consecrated on that morning."
"And you were not seen?"
"I was not," came the whispered reply. "As a measure of precaution I wore the mask which I use to go about the churches at night. I met no one."
"Is it here?" Basil queried eagerly.
"It is not here," replied the voice. "It must be kept until the night of the great consecration, when Lucifer himself shall sit upon the ebony throne and demand his bride--his stainless dove. Where is she now?"
The light had faded out of Basil's eyes, and his face was ashen.
"One has been found, worthy of even as fastidious a master as he, whom we both serve. Well-nigh had she escaped us, had not one who never fails me tracked her on that fatal night, when her body lay in her coffin ready to be consecrated to the Nameless one."
From the eyeless sockets of the shadow-mask a phosphorescent gleam shot towards the Grand Chamberlain.
"What of the man?"
"The wafer was discovered on a certain captain of the guard who hath crossed my path to his undoing once too often. The Church herself shall pronounce sentence upon him--through me!"
"And--that other?"
There was a pause.
"Her husband!--He deems her dead, nor grieves he overmuch, believing, as he does, that her love was another's--even his whom I have marked for certain doom. I have it in my mind to try what a jest will do for him."
The lurid tone of the speaker seemed to impress even his shadowy companion.
"A jest?"
"He shall attend the great ceremony," Basil explained. "And he shall behold the stainless dove. When is it to be?" he added after a pause.
"When is it to be?"
"Six nights hence--on the night of the full moon."
"And then you shall give to me that which I crave, and the forfeit shall be paid."
"The forfeit shall be paid," the voice re-echoed from the shadows, and to Basil it seemed as if the damp, cold breath from an open grave had been wafted to his cheeks.
Like a phantom that sinks back into the night of the grave, whence it had emerged, Bessarion vanished from the chamber. In his place stood Hormazd, who had noiselessly entered through a panel in the wall.
Basil greeted him with a silent nod.
"What of the messenger?" he turned to the Oriental.
"He returns within the hour," replied the voice.
"What are his tidings?" Basil queried eagerly. "Is Alberic in the land of shadows, where she dwells who gave him birth?"
"Sent by the same relentless hand across the Styx," the cowled figure spoke, yet Basil knew not whether it was a question or a statement.
He gave a start.
"Tell me, how are secrets known to you at which Hell itself would pale?" he turned with unsteady tone to his companion.
"Those of the shadows commune with the shadows," came the enigmatical reply. "Is everything prepared?"
"When the brazen tongue from the Capitol tolls the hour, the blow shall fall," Basil replied. "Hassan Abdullah and his Saracens are anchored off the port of Ostia. The Epirotes and Albanians in the Senator's service are bribed to our cause. Rome is in the throes of mortal terror. Even the Monk of Cluny is under the spell, and has ceased to arraign the Scarlet Woman of Babylon. The dread of the impending judgment day will succor our cause. And--once installed within these walls as master of Rome--with Theodora by my side--you shall have full sway, to do whatever your dark fancies may prompt. You shall have a chamber and a laboratory and be at liberty to roam at will through your devil's kitchen."
The cowled figure gave a silent nod, but, before he could speak, the door leading into the chamber opened as from the effect of a violent gust of wind, and a shapeless form, that seemed half human, half ape, flew at Basil's feet, who recoiled as if a ghost had arisen before him from the floor.
For a moment Basil stared from Daoud the Moor to his shadowy visitor, then he bade the runner arise and commanded him in some Eastern tongue to unburden himself.
With many protestations of his devotion the monster produced a bundle which Basil had not noted, owing to the swiftness with which the African had entered the chamber. Panting, with deft, though trembling fingers, Daoud untied the cords and a bloody head, severed from its trunk, rolled upon the floor of the chamber, and lay still at Basil's feet. It had lost all human semblance and exhaled the putrid odor of the grave.
Basil started to his feet, staring from the Moor to Hormazd.
"Dead--" his pale lips stammered. Then, turning to his dark companion, he added by way of encouragement to himself:
"You gave me truth!"
Daoud was cowering on the floor, his eyes staring into the shadows, where hovered the Persian's almost invisible form.
A nod from Basil caused him to rise.
"Away with it!" shrieked the Grand Chamberlain overcome with terror. "See that no one sets eyes upon it!"
The Moor wrapped the severed head into the blood-stained cloth and darted from the chamber.
Then Basil turned to his visitor.
"In six days Rome shall hail a new master! Let then the sable banners of Hell be unfurled and the Nameless Presence rejoice upon his ebony throne! And now do you come with me into the realms of doom that gape below, that your eyes may be gladdened by that which is in store for you!"
Taking up a torch, Basil lighted it with the aid of two flints and the twain trooped out of the chamber into the shadowy corridor leading into the crypts of the Emperor's Tomb.
