Gonji: Fortress of Lost Worlds Part 23

Cervera winced up at Gonji but turned his eyes away quickly.

"So your beloved daughter was seduced, and she conceived a child. And both mother and child were destroyed by the monster this heathen witch became," Balaerik bellowed.

But Gonjis voice roared still louder, silencing the entire square.

"Its a lie!"

A womans scream broke the stillness from somewhere outside the promenade walls. Scores of people sucked in breaths at once amid shrills of alarm. Soldiers scampered off in response.

Now. It must be now- Gonji tested his manacles. Useless to struggle. He cast his gaze all about the square, searching for the surrept.i.tious rescuers. But none came. The disturbance ended as swiftly as it had begun.

Balaerik pressed Cervera again. "Is it not even as I have described, milord?"

The duke was on his feet again. "No-!" Oohs and ahhs accompanied his surprising response. "Now that Ive heard it put like that, you see, I-it cant be true. I refuse to believe it, or to have any word out of my mouth be used against this man!" He took two steps off the podium and locked eyes with Gonji. "Forgive me, my son. For permitting a fathers broken heart to cloud my mind."

Gonji experienced a profound suffusion of relief and pity toward the now tearful duke. "Arigato goziemas.h.i.+te, milord," he replied with great politeness, for indeed, the duke had spoken the words Gonji had traveled so many deadly miles to hear.

When the rumbling of the crowd had been brought under control and the pipe organ had ceased its dirge-like droning, Gonji himself was unshackled from the post and brought to the witness podium. A tremor of antic.i.p.ation rolled through the morbid, superst.i.tious audience. Crucifixes, relics, and various sacramentals were produced and extended in a grotesque display of public warding of Gonjis evil spirits.

The samurai steeled himself, for he knew that the ordeal of the next few moments might well be more intolerable than that of the entire imprisonment of the past year.

Preliminary questioning... Gonjis full t.i.tle, mimicked by boors in the crowd... He abided it without a blink.

Balaerik faced him squarely, not a yard away.

"Weve all heard the accusations against you, time and time again throughout the night. Attested to and corroborated and repeated in an endless rondo the holy angels themselves must find insufferable."

No more so than you, b.a.s.t.a.r.d of Arrogance and Evil. Where in h.e.l.l are my compadres?

"Weve heard your impressive honorifics-'Deathwind of Vedun, eh?" Balaerik smiled condescendingly.

Gonji bit his tongue, swallowing with difficulty.

"But we will have an end of this. There is but one charge I would see you answer to yourself. I refer to the charge averred by no less than the French knights of the Order of the...but my vow against speaking the most holy name forbids me-"

"The Order of the Holy Ghost," a prelate completed from the long bench of cowled prosecutors.

"Gracias," Balaerik replied. "This charge concerns black magic which led to the obliteration of a town near Avignon, France. Black magic perpetrated by you, witch. You destroyed every man, woman, and child in Pont-Rouge-"

"There were no children in that town," Gonji retorted as he leaned forward emphatically. "They were sacrificed, by their own parents, to Satan-your master!"

Gasps of outrage broke from the stunned gathering.

"Sacrilege!"

"Insolent swine!"

"Youll burn for that, you-"

Balaerik pressed for silence. "Is that so? And can you produce any witness to corroborate this...this..."

"You know I cant, or else you wouldnt posture so smugly."

"But I can testify to the truth of what the prosecutor says. Someone help me-por favor?"

The audience began to murmur as the man who had called out from among them was duly recognized and aided to the prosecutors platform. He was blind, his eyes patched over with oblong pieces of black fabric that lent him an eerie cast.

And Gonji could not believe his own eyes. Until he met Balaeriks maddeningly complacent look.

"That man is dead!" Gonji could scarcely muster conviction enough to voice what he was whispering, so momentarily shocked was he by this apparition. "I killed him."

"Did you." It was a rhetorical statement that accused him of failure or self-delusion.

Or perhaps something worse, Gonji began thinking, apprehended only by the samurai. An admission of something Balaerik himself had done that outweighed the violence implicit in Gonjis statement. And he realized, when he saw the nattering and head-turning of the cowled priests, that his accusers had heard him clearly enough. Gonji had added nothing toward convincing anyone of his pristine innocence.

The truth was that Gonji and his late companion Emeric had both had to deal with this witnessing revenant. Emeric had put out the mans unearthly eyes to stay their ghastly power, and Gonji had ended his twisted life. So he had thought.

"This is Monsieur Perreault. He will relate a tragic tale of human misery. The very least of which was his savage blinding at the hands of this witch and his cohorts."

Balaeriks dramatic phrasings set the stage for the revivified fiends lies. Gonji could not believe the things he heard, for he and his companions were being subst.i.tuted for the perpetrators of the most callous and inhuman act of evil hed ever seen.

"My little ones," the undead Perreault sobbed tearlessly. "Sacrificed that this monster might gain unholy power-"

"Its an evil lie!" Gonji roared. "Make him swear by the Christ-someone lay on him the crucifix of the Christ!"

"Be still, witch," Balaerik commanded with deadly calm, pointing a finger. "Say not the Most Holy Name."

"-forced me to watch what they did to my children and then put out my eyes so that I would live forever with the memory of that last terrible vision!"

"Take away his eye patches! See what lies beneath!" All control fled Gonji now, the nightmare seizing him in its nerve-racking grip. He strained uselessly at his shackles.

"Stay thyself!" the Grand Inquisitor bellowed in Latin, executing a warding gesture at Gonji from the bench, where he now stood in wrathful att.i.tude.

"The golden Rhone ran red with blood," Pearreaults reanimated corpse intoned mournfully. "Now only the mistral cries where once there were the sounds of children."

"Nooo!" Gonji shouted. "Youre all loco-dont you see what theyre-?!"

Balaerik strode up to Gonji with mock outrage and slapped at him. Gonjis head twisted to evade the blow. Hands and feet shackled to a post, he could do nothing in reply but concentrate his rage into the gaze he now slanted at his enemy.

"Forgive me," Balaerik said with a veneer of sincerity. He reached out with both hands to caress Gonjis face as if in patronizing affection. The samurai jerked his head back but could not evade the evil donados cold touch. "I can see now that you cannot help what you are."

He withdrew and addressed the throng now. "Dont you see, Your Eminence, honored brothers and sisters, that he is possessed by the demon that brings the moon-madness we have known so well? I cannot disgrace this holy court by prosecuting this poor, tortured soul further." He walked off.

Gonjis teeth ground as he strove to regain control over his trembling body, his blood-streaked thoughts.

"Enough, donado," Bishop Izquierdo said with a wave of his hand, calling the a.s.semblage to order. "We have heard enough. By the holy power invested in me by the High Office of Inquisition..."

Gonji heard little of what the Grand Inquisitor said and cared less.

"...witchcraft and demon-possession and murder most foul..."

His eyes were riveted to the pompously strutting Balaerik.

"...to be burned at the stake when tomorrows sun has fled the fall of darkness..."

If I must return from the grave as a wolf myself, Agent of Evil, I will stalk you, and I will find you, and I will avenge the unutterable insults you have done me. Upon the honor of my ancestors, I swear that it shall be so...

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

"I cant understand whats come over him these past months, but I fear the worst."

Father Martin de la Cenza wrung his hands as he strode from the reception hall with the new visiting oblate, his voiced concern for the interim Inquisitor stooping his narrow shoulders. But he was cheered withal. For this unexpected guests entourage had arrived only minutes before, accompanied by the Papal Nuncio, Archbishop Texeira, and had brought important news from His Holiness regarding the matter of the condemned samurai.

The archbishop had gone to the cathedral briefly but now returned and approached them down the long, carpeted corridor.

Before the Nuncio was in earshot, de la Cenza added quickly, to the new arrival, "I must say, Father Sebastio, that Im comforted to at last be in the presence of at least one other man of G.o.d who shares my feelings."

The papal messenger smiled and laid a bracing hand on Father Martins shoulder. Father Jan Sebastio was a hardy man with a round, bearded face and lively hazel eyes. Only the symmetrical white fringe of his beard betrayed his sixty years, and the grip of his short, thick fingers bespoke strength and firmness of purpose.

"Be of good cheer," Sebastio told him. "G.o.d hasnt guided us through the obstacles weve faced to abandon us now."

Father Martin nodded. "How came you to be named Jan?"

"Mmm-my sainted mother. Im Dutch and Portuguese, you see. Nearly as unlikely a birthing as Gonjis own in the current state of affairs, no?" He rumbled with good-natured laughter. "Youve heard, I suppose, that his mother was a s.h.i.+pwrecked Norwegian, a former prisoner of Dutch marauders? Circ.u.mstances saw her...how shall I say?-lawfully concubined, after their custom, to one of the most powerful warlords in j.a.pan. Gonjis father, and my good friend."

Father de la Cenza displayed no moral censure, to hear of it. "You know him well, then?"

"Gonji? Si, we were close companions when he was a lad. Quite an amazing lad. I was one of his teachers. He knew me as Brother Jan. I was ordained into the Society of Jesus only after he left j.a.pan. Eight years since my ordination, come next Feast of St. Agnes. Ahh-Your Grace."

Father Sebastio bent and kissed Archbishop Texeiras ring as the other rejoined them. "G.o.d be with you."

"And with you, Padre," the Nuncio replied. "Youve told Martin here what news you bear from His Holiness?"

"Si."

"Then let us waste no time."

"He may yet be asleep," Father de la Cenza apprised them as they walked down the adjoining wing containing the private chambers of Bishop Izquierdo.

"It was a long and eventful night, so I understand," Texeira said.

"Si, Your Eminence," Martin intoned gravely. "Father Sebastio, what do you know of the Brotherhood of Holy Arms and its representative here, a donado named Anton Balaerik?"

Sebastio locked eyes with Texeira, as he answered Martin.

"Interesting that you should ask. Patience. It seems Gonji-san has become the focus of a great deal of attention. The things I hear of him are quite incredible. Those who learn of our friends.h.i.+p are full of endless questions about him. News of his itinerant adventures have even reached j.a.pan, you know. When I was set on his trail, it was for a far different reason than that for which Ive come now. By G.o.d our Father, this simple fellow never dared think hed one day be about the business of the Pontiff himself! And because of a wayward j.a.panese, yet! But make no mistake-Gonjis a unique fellow from a land that is itself difficult to comprehend. And for some reason, heathen though he was when last I tussled with him, the Lord of Heaven seems to want him cared for." Father Sebastio shook his head slowly, gauging their shocked expressions.

They reached Bishop Izquierdos chambers. The young novice who monitored the halls blanched to see the importance of the visitors and went in to inform the interim Grand Inquisitor.

The Papal Nuncio folded his hands behind his back, his brow creasing. "Martin, I want you to know that this disconcerting lack of control by His Grace has been duly noted by the High Office hierarchy. There will have to be changes made. There are some who-now let me finish before you protest-some who favor your appointment as Grand Inquisitor. Your papers defending the sacraments have become widely known and respected. Of course, the proper channels would have to be followed. It could take time for the bishopric to be conferred upon you. In the meantime..."

Father de la Cenza cleared his throat and removed his biretta. He mopped his beaded brow before speaking.

"Excuse me, Your Eminence, but I have prayerfully considered what I am about to say. I-I cannot accept further responsibility in-in the High Office-" He swallowed hard and averted his eyes from Texeiras. "It seems Ive developed certain scruples of conscience that render me of questionable value here. I feel the call to a redefinement and rededication of my service to G.o.d."

Texeira pondered this awhile before smiling crookedly. "As you wish, Martin. It will be taken under advis.e.m.e.nt."

The novice returned, relating that Bishop Izquierdo wished not to be disturbed until the evenings autos-da-fe.

"I think, young novitiate," Archbishop Texeira said petulantly, "that h.e.l.l change his mind for this." He took the haversack from Sebastio, opened it, and displayed the packet bearing the papal seal.

"You dont seem to understand," Bishop Izquierdo said forcefully, his eyes reflecting the flames from the hearth as he nervously stoked the blaze with a poker. "The order came from King Philip himself."

"By way of the Duke of Lerma," Father Martin added.

"Si, by way of the duke," Izquierdo agreed, turning on him. "And what do you presume to make of that, Martin? Rojas is the Inquisitions liaison to the king."

"More than that, it seems," de la Cenza dug in, folding his arms as he sat on the edge of a table.

Father Sebastio cleared his throat. "I fail to see the need for having consulted the king about a theological matter, Your Eminence."

"It was not my doing, Father Sebastio. It was Rojas who consulted King Philip. His order was explicit: Prosecute the infidels case at the earliest possible opportunity, and the Throne would support any decision of the auto-da-fe."

"Ah," Father Martin broke in, "then this was not a coincidental crossing of orders. Youve had the order from the king for...how long?"

Izquierdo looked stung. "For two months now."

"Two months?" de la Cenza said in surprise.

"So," Archbishop Texeira cut in, eyebrows raised, "I might have known the decision to proceed did not originate with you. Yet you made it appear as though it did."

The interim Grand Inquisitor was turning back and forth now, as if parrying successive attacks. His breathing was rapid and labored.

"Two months," de la Cenza repeated again. "Then why did you wait so long-though G.o.d be praised that you did?" An ominous understanding pa.s.sed over Father Martins countenance. He stood slowly. "It was Balaerik who held you up. You waited until he said it was time to bring the samurai to trial."

"No! I waited until all evidence could be gathered. What do you want from me, Martin? I thought you wanted your heathen friend spared for as long as possible."

"I do. Thats not what concerns me. Its your constant obeisance to this questionable donado."

"He came bearing instructions under the papal seal," the besieged Izquierdo railed. "Youll recall you resisted obeying those instructions. Now you bring me Father Sebastio and his orders from the Holy Father, and these you expect me to implement without question. What is becoming of hierarchical authority in the Church?"