There is a certain doubt in my mind. A cloud has hung over the proceedings since I read the journal of Captain Juan Santoro last night on his arrival in the Inquisitor General’s chambers. A dark evil is detailed in those pages, and although the Inquisitor General teaches us that all things are powerless before the truth of our Lord, I have grave misgivings about the thing I am about to see for the first time.
I have prayed all morning for the strength to fulfil my duty to the Lord, but still my knees feel like water and there is a cold pit in my belly that nothing can assuage.
But the Inquisitor has entrusted this matter to me for a reason. He believes me worthy of the task, the one man here who might have the perception and the courage to do what must be done.
My duty is clear.
It is time for the questioning to begin.
Noble tapped Suzie on the shoulder. She lifted her gaze from the papers and any annoyance she might have felt seemed to melt away in her quick smile. Noble had to resist a sudden urge to kiss her.
“What the hell is this?” he shouted.
Suzie shrugged.
“I’m not sure yet. It came up on one of my searches.”
The next page was from the same search, but from a different journal.
If there is a hell on this Earth then surely it is in this place here. No god-fearing man should have to face the horrors I have led my crew through on this day. I give thanks that I have brought us all back safely to the ship and I am much afeared with the thought of the return voyage, for the cargo is most foul and ungodly. But I would be remiss in my duty to the Church if I did not report on the things that plague this new land. If the Crown wishes, as I have been told, to colonise this place, then we must know what manner of things lay claim on it at present.
In truth, I know not what we have found. It began when we started to hear rumour of something being hidden from us in the forest to the west of the collection of huts that passes as civilisation here. The fact that something was being hidden proved most interesting, for until that moment, the people had been the most open and friendly of any I have met anywhere on my numerous travels and journeys in service of the King and Queen.
At first I did not wish to pry, but the rumours persisted, and the men began to clamour for action, having the scent of gold in their nostrils and the thought of glory in their hearts.
I took a party to the forest and we did indeed find resistance there, so much so that it became obvious there was indeed something hidden there from us, something of great value.
The natives died bravely defending it, and for most of the day we fought our way ever closer, thinking that we had stumbled on a great treasure. We fought through their defences, hacking and slashing our way to the centre of a dark temple that rose up high, even rising above the tall forest canopy. The temple itself was ringed with four concentric circles of burning oil, and several of our party took severe burns in their crossing, but all the men braved the fire, the thought of fortune spurring them on.
As I have said, we expected treasure. What we found was beyond our ken.
The temple was fashioned from a material unlike any we had ever before encountered; a green soapstone with jet black marbling that on close inspection looked like it might once have been alive. The stone itself was moist, almost oily to the touch and to a man we found ourselves trying to scrub the taint of it from our skin even as we climbed, still felling defenders all the way to the top.
We lost five good men on the quest for that treasure, and the men were dismayed when all we found at the top was a deep pool of what at first glance looked to be a thick tar. Fernando Vasquo stepped down into it, intent on exploring the depths, unwilling to give up the quest for fortune and glory. It was to be the end of him, and I will hear his screams from now until eternity.
I do not have the words to describe the carnage that was wrought on Vasquo’s poor body, but when the thing was done, there remained only several pieces of bone, white and shining as if picked clean.
Even then the men refused to leave, tearing at the stones, sure that there was gold to be had. But in the end, all we received for our vicissitudes was that bubbling pit of blackness.
I have had it sealed in a lead casket and will take it back to Seville.
But the journey will be long, for already it whispers in my mind, and I fear my dreams will be dark indeed during the long months at sea ahead.
“Already it whispers in my mind.”
I had given no thought to that phrase, believing it to be the product of a sailor’s base superstition. But now, having at last seen my adversary in this Inquisition, I know better.
When we opened the casket that had been brought to the chamber where the questioning was to take place, I originally bethought that we had been played false and that trickery was at work. At first glance the lead box seemed empty, its bottom a deep dark shadow. But as Brother Ferrer leaned over for further examination, something surged within and he was forced to step back, so suddenly that he knocked over a brazier and sent glowing coals skittering on the flagstones. Those of us present had to hop and skip to avoid burns to feet and the skirts of our vestments, and I almost missed the first sight of the thing.
It was only as I used a pair of forceps to lift one of the errant hot coals that I raised my gaze to the casket. I had the tongs held high ahead of me, and the blackness that rose from the casket, a thick liquid with the consistency of old pitch seemed to rear back, giving me time to slam the lid closed on the obscenity.
And that is when it happened.
There was a tugging in my mind, a probing as of intelligence. I knew immediately what it was doing, as it is my own profession also. Even as I sought to ascertain the form of my opponent, at the same time it was questioning me.
I am not the only Inquisitor here.
I pushed the probing thought away, closing my mind to it by reciting the first line of the Paternoster. I felt it go even as my hand touched the lid of the casket to close it. But there was something else, something I am loath to relate here lest it is discovered and my very sanity is brought into question. I only caught but a fleeting glimpse, just as the lid of the lead casket dropped back into place, but it was unmistakable. As the thing oozed to the bottom of the box a single eye, pale and smooth as a duck’s egg, opened… and blinked.
“Sound familiar?” Suzie shouted.
Noble nodded. He was about to reply, but she had already returned to her reading. He knew that look, the pursing of the lips and the undivided attention on the task at hand. He left her to it.
She’s on to something.
Calamity has overtaken us, as I have feared it might ever since I brought that damned casket aboard. The thing has plagued our dreams since the start, and the crew has been without sleep for many days. There have been mutterings of mutiny since the beginning of the month, and last night matters came to a head. Three crewmen took it upon themselves to rid us of our tormentor.
At least, they tried. And for their presumption, they were mightily punished.
Their screams in the dark alerted me to their plight and I was first to enter the hold. It is hard to describe the fear that gripped me as I saw the hell the thing had wrought on my men. It was obvious that they had lifted the casket, probably intending to throw it overboard. But someone had dropped an end of the casket to the deck—that much is also obvious from the dent in the leftmost edge. I can only surmise that the accompanying jolt caused the casket to break open—and let the beast out.