Someone began to scream. Red John brandished his bow. “Quiet, there!” he roared. “’Steeth, I’ll kill the first man who moves!”
I hardly thought this a time for profanity. Raising the cross still higher, I forced limp legs to carry me a few steps forward, while I quavered some chant of exorcism. I was certain it would do no good; the end of the world was upon us.
Had the demon only remained standing there, we would soon have broken and bolted. But he raised a tube held in one hand. From it shot flame, blinding white. I heard it crackle in the air and saw a man near me smitten.
Fire burst over him. He fell dead, his breast charred open.
Three other demons emerged.
Soldiers were trained to react when such things happened, not to think. The bow of Red John sang. The foremost demon lurched off the ramp with a cloth-yard arrow through him. I saw him cough blood and die. As if the one shot had touched off a hundred, the air was suddenly gray with whistling shafts. The three other demons toppled, so thickly studded with arrows they might have been popinjays at a contest.
“They can be slain!” bawled Sir Roger. “Haro! St. George for merry England!” And he spurred his horse straight up the gangway.
They say fear breeds unnatural courage. With one crazed whoop the whole army charged after him. Be it confessed, I, too, howled and ran into the ship.
Of that combat which ramped and raged through all the rooms and corridors, I have little memory. Somewhere, from someone, I got a battle-ax. There is in me a confused impression of smiting away at vile blue faces which rose up to snarl at me, of slipping in blood and rising to smite again. Sir Roger had no way to direct the battle. His men simply ran wild. Knowing the demons could be killed, their one thought was to kill and have done.
The crew of the ship numbered about a hundred, but few carried weapons. We later found all manner of devices stored in the holds, but the invaders had relied on creating a panic. Not knowing Englishmen, they had not expected trouble. The ship s artillery was ready to use, but of no value once we were inside.
In less than an hour, we had hunted them all down.
Wading out through the carnage, I wept with joy to feel the blessed sunlight again. Sir Roger was checking with his captains to find our losses, which were only fifteen all told. As I stood there, atremble with exhaustion, Red John Hameward emerged. He had a demon slung over his shoulder.
He threw the creature at Sir Roger’s feet. “This one I knocked out with my fist, sire,” he panted. “I thought might be you’d want one kept alive awhile, to put him to the question. Or should I not take chances, and slice off his ugly head now?”
Sir Roger considered. Calm had descended upon him; none of us had yet grasped the enormity of this event. A grim smile crossed his lips. He replied in English as fluent as the nobleman’s French he more commonly used.
“if these be demons,” he said, “they’re a poor breed, for they were slain as easily as men. Easier, in sooth. They didn’t know more about infighting than my little daughter. Less, for she’s given my nose many hefty tweaks. I think chains will hold this fellow safe, eh, Brother Parvus?”
“Yes, my lord,” I opined, “though it were best to put some saints’ relics and the Host near by.”
“Well, then, take him to the abbey and see what you can get out of him. I’ll send a guard along. Come up to dinner this evening.”
“Sire,” I reproved, “we should hold a great Mass of thanksgiving ere we do anything else.”
“Yes, yes,” he said impatiently. “Talk to your abbot about it. Do what seems best. But come to dinner and tell me what you’ve learned.”
His eyes grew thoughtful as he stared at the ship.
Chapter II
I came as ordered, with the approval of my abbot, who saw that here the ghostly and secular arms must be one. The town was strangely quiet as I picked my way through sunset streets. Folk were in church or huddled within doors. From the soldiers’ camp I could hear yet another Mass, The ship brooded mountainous over all our tiny works.