VIII


Overnight, Geoffrey died.


The news spread through the city quickly. One of their most beloved youths had been taken from them. When Matthew heard, he headed immediately to Geoffrey’s house, to see for himself the corpse of his friend.


When he arrived, the gatekeeper refused to let him in. “I’m sorry, my Lord,” he said, “but the earl said that you were not welcome here anymore.”


“But Geoffrey is dead!” Matthew said. “Surely I can see him one last time.”


“I’m sorry, my Lord,” the gatekeeper said. “I’m just following my orders.”


Matthew was left, helplessly looking at the gate of the Paige mansion as other lords and ladies went in to pay their respects to Geoffrey. He left as the sombre figure of Father Pontsfrey arrived with several other senior members of the clergy.


When he returned home, he found a message for him, from Duke Wulf. It read:


Dear Master Portsmouth,


I understand that your friend, Master Geoffrey Paige, has passed away. You have my condolences for your loss. It was an unnecessary death.


I apologise for brining you into my dispute with the Earl. I hope it has not prevented you from sharing your grief in the way you would like. I believe it would be in your own best interest to stay away from my house in the future. It is probable that the popular opinion will favour Earl Paige over me, and I have no intention of alienating you for the sake of an argument that is essentially mine.



Yours sincerely,



Remus Fitzpatrick Jonathan Tennyson Wulf, Duke Eastlands


Matthew sighed. Not only was he unable to pay his respects to Geoffrey, but now he was separated from Lucinda as well. He wondered how he could devise some kind of excuse to see her without anyone else finding out.


As he mused he saw a carriage coming up to his door. Whoever they were, they were probably here to see his father. He doubted that anyone would want to visit him today.


He was surprised when the occupant of the carriage turned out to be Chantal. Of all the people to be visiting his father, she was the last that he would have expected. His father loathed gossipy, flighty creatures like her. Matthew agreed with him. While Chantal may have made a fashionable ornament, she really had little else to recommend her. For some reason that he could not understand, she had always attempted to court him, despite his constant rebuttals.


After admitting Chantal, the butler came to tell Matthew that he had a guest. Matthew went to the foyer, wondering why she would be seeing him.


Chantal stood in the centre of the foyer, dried tears marring her complexion. “Oh! It’s terrible, Matthew,” she said. “What’s happened to Geoffrey.”


“I already know he’s dead,” Matthew said.


“It’s worse than that,” said Chantal.


Matthew froze. Geoffrey was already dead. What could be worse than that?


Chantal swept forward and clasped Matthew’s hands. “The priests have declared that the demon is still inside him.” She burst into tears. “They say he can’t be buried in a churchyard… he’s going to hell!”


“That can’t be true!” Matthew pushed Chantal away, sending her sprawling on the floor. She looked up at him in shock, but her expression hardly registered. “Why are you saying this? Don’t you have enough to gossip about?” He stepped towards her menacingly.


Chantal cowered on the floor. “It’s… it’s true,” she said. “I just thought…”


“You thought nothing,” said Matthew. “You thought that you wanted to see me, so you came. You weren’t thinking about me at all. You’re selfish and arrogant if you think that I’d want to see you, of all people when my best friend has just died.” He turned away from the quivering woman on the floor.


“I’m sorry,” she said to his back.


“Your apology is worthless to me,” he replied as he left the room. “Just like you.”



Three days later, Geoffrey’s funeral was held in a sombre fashion. The cursed body could not be buried on consecrated ground, so the funeral procession made its way out of the city grounds, away from the city’s large cathedral.


Matthew followed behind the procession, wishing that he could have stayed with it where he belonged, at its head. Unfortunately the earl still saw Matthew as an enemy and had refused him even a token role at the funeral.


The procession made its way up a hill and finally stopped in the centre of a large field of graves that was generally reserved for those too poor to be buried in the city proper. Earl Paige had paid artisans to get to work, and a small tomb was almost completed there. Signs barring evil from exiting adorned the walls and brackets were set upon it, ready to support the gargoyles that would decorate it.


Matthew found a vantage point above the tomb to watch the funeral. Most of the nobility were there. Duke Wulf was a notable exception, but with the bad blood between him and the earl, this was no surprise. Chantal stood at the front of the crowd, looking reserved. She looked up at him and caught his eye for a second before turning away.


Geoffrey’s coffin was taken into the tomb. Matthew felt a pang of regret as he realised that he should be one of those pallbearers. The pallbearers exited the tomb and a priest – Matthew thought that it might be the Exorcist, Father Ponstfrey – began to pray. Unlike the peaceful chants of those who died in God’s embrace, this was a harsher prayer, one designed not to speed a soul to rest, but to protect those who remained from its fury.


As he finished his prayer, the priest took out a piece of chalk and scrawled a symbol in the doorway to the tomb. Then he stood back and the doors were closed, ending the last chapter of Geoffrey’s time on Earth.


____________


There's more to come! I would have put this up before, but I was slightly nervous about hitting everyone with 1/3 of the story all at once.


This is all very much first draft stuff as well, so please! Constructuve criticism is very much welcome! I can't become a better writer if I noone will tell me where to improve!