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32 - Black Magic- a Tale of the Rise and Fall of the Antichrist by Marjorie Bowen · Black Magic- a Tale of the Rise and Fall of the Antichrist

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  Speaker 1: Section thirty two of Black Magic by Marjorie Bowen. This
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  Speaker 1: LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Part two, chapter ten,
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  Speaker 1: evening before the coronation, the orange marble pillars, glowing in
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  Speaker 1: the light of a hundred lamps, gave the chamber a
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  Speaker 1: dazzling brightness. The windows were screened by scarlet silk curtains
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  Speaker 1: and crystal bowls of purple flowers. Stood on the serpentine floor.
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  Speaker 1: On a low gilled couch against the wall sat Tyrie,
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  Speaker 1: his gold armor half concealed by a violet and ermine mantle.
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  Speaker 1: Round his close dark hair was a wreath of red roses,
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  Speaker 1: and the long pearls in his ears glimmered with his movements.
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  Speaker 1: Opposite him, on a throne supported by basalt lions, was
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  Speaker 1: Michael the Second, robed in gold and silver tissues under
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  Speaker 1: a dalmatica of orange and crimson brocade. It is Dune,
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  Speaker 1: he said in a low, eager voice, and tomorrow I
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  Speaker 1: crown you in Saint Peter's Church. Tirie, it is done, truly,
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  Speaker 1: our fortunes are marvelous, answered Tyrie. To day, when I
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  Speaker 1: heard the princes elect me an unknown adventurer, when I
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  Speaker 1: heard the mob of Rome shout for me. I thought
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  Speaker 1: I had gone mad. Are you afraid of me? The
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  Speaker 1: other asked, why do you so seldom look at me?
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  Speaker 1: Tyrie slowly turned his beautiful face. I am afraid of
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  Speaker 1: my own fortunes. I am not as bold as you,
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  Speaker 1: he said, fearfully. You never hesitated to sin. The pope moved,
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  Speaker 1: and his garments sparkled against the gleaming marble wall. I
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  Speaker 1: do not sin, he smiled. I am sin. I do
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  Speaker 1: know evil, for I am evil. But you, his face
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  Speaker 1: became grave, almost sad. You are very human. Better it
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  Speaker 1: had been for me never to have met you, Tyrie.
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  Speaker 1: For your sake, I have risked everything for your sake.
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  Speaker 1: Maybe I must leave this strange fair life and go
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  Speaker 1: back whence I came so much. I care for you
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  Speaker 1: so dearly? Have I kept the vows we made in Frankfort.
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  Speaker 1: Cannot you meet with courage? The destiny I offer you
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  Speaker 1: was not your blood warmed by that charge at Tivoli,
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  Speaker 1: when knight and horse fell before your spears and your
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  Speaker 1: host humbled an emperor. When Rome rose to greet you,
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  Speaker 1: and I came to meet you with a kingdom for
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  Speaker 1: a gift, did not some fire creep into your veins
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  Speaker 1: that might serve to heat you. Now a kingdom, cried Tyrie,
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  Speaker 1: the kingdom of Antichrist. The victory was not mine. The
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  Speaker 1: cohorts of the devil galloped beside us and urged us
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  Speaker 1: to unholy triumph. Rome is a place of horror, full
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  Speaker 1: of witches, ghosts, and strange beasts. You said you would
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  Speaker 1: be emperor, answered the Pope, and I have granted you
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  Speaker 1: your wish. If you fail me or betray me, now
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  Speaker 1: it is over for both of us. Tiri stopped in
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  Speaker 1: his pacing to and fro. Why do you say to
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  Speaker 1: me so often? Do not fail me? Do not betray me?
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  Speaker 1: Michael the second answered in a low voice, because I
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  Speaker 1: fear it. Tyrie laughed desperately. To whom should I betray you?
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  Speaker 1: It seems that you have all the world. There is
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  Speaker 1: Jacobia of Martzburg. Why do you sting me with that name? Belike?
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  Speaker 1: I thought ye might wish to make her your empress,
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  Speaker 1: said the Pope, in sudden mockery. Tiri pressed his hand
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  Speaker 1: to his brow. She believes in God? What is that
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  Speaker 1: to me? He cried? The other day you lied to
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  Speaker 1: me saying you knew not where she was, and straightway
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  Speaker 1: ye visited her. This is your SPI's work, Ursula of rousselaie.
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  Speaker 1: She will not trouble you. Again, answered Michael the second
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  Speaker 1: let her go. I cannot, she said, I have seen
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  Speaker 1: her face. Well, if you have take it from me,
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  Speaker 1: she is not fair. I do not think of her fairness,
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  Speaker 1: answered Tyrie sullenly. But of the mystery there is behind
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  Speaker 1: all of it. Why you never told me of her before,
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  Speaker 1: and why she haunts me with witches in her train.
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  Speaker 1: The Pope looked at him curiously, for one who has
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  Speaker 1: never been an ardent lover, Ye dwell much on women.
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  Speaker 1: I had rather you thought on battles and kingdoms. Had
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  Speaker 1: I been a were I you dancer and none alike?
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  Speaker 1: Would be no nothing to me compared with my coronation
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  Speaker 1: on the morrow. Would ye had never come my way
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  Speaker 1: to be my ruin and your own? Would you were
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  Speaker 1: not such a sweet, fair fool that I must love you?
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  Speaker 1: And so we make ourselves the mack of destiny by
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  Speaker 1: these complaints. Oh, if you have the desire to be king,
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  Speaker 1: show the courage to dare a kingly fate, you must
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  Speaker 1: think me a coward tyr he said, And I have
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  Speaker 1: been very weak, But that I think is past. I
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  Speaker 1: have reached the summit of all the greatness I ever dreamed,
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  Speaker 1: and it confuses me. But when the imperial crown is mine,
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  Speaker 1: you shall find me bold enough. Then are we great? Indeed,
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  Speaker 1: we shall join hands across the fairest dominion men ever ruled.
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  Speaker 1: Swabia is ours. Bohemia and Lombardi France courts our alliance, Cyprus,
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  Speaker 1: the Isle of Candy, and Malta town in roads they
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  Speaker 1: worship us, and Genoa town owns us. Master. He paused
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  Speaker 1: in his speech and stepped down from the throne. Do
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  Speaker 1: you remember that day in Antwerp, Tyrie, when we looked
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  Speaker 1: in the mirror, he said, and his voice was tender
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  Speaker 1: and beautiful. We hardly dared then to think of this.
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  Speaker 1: We saw a gallows in that mirror, answered Tyrie, A
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  Speaker 1: gallows tree beside the triple crown. It was for our enemies,
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  Speaker 1: cried Michael, our enemies whom we have triumphed over, Tyrie.
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  Speaker 1: Think of it. We were very young then and poor.
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  Speaker 1: Now I have kings at my footstool, and you will
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  Speaker 1: sleep to night in the gold palace of the Aventine.
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  Speaker 1: He laughed joyously, Tyrie's face grew gentle at the old memories.
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  Speaker 1: The house still stands, I WoT, he mused, though the
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  Speaker 1: dust be thick over the deserted rooms and the chokes
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  Speaker 1: the windows. When I was in the east, I have
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  Speaker 1: thought with great joy of Antwerp. The Pope laid his delicate,
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  Speaker 1: fragrant hand on the glittering Vanbrais. Tirie, do you not
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  Speaker 1: value me a little? Now? You have done more for
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  Speaker 1: me than man or God, and above both I do
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  Speaker 1: worship you? He answered. I am not fearful any more,
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  Speaker 1: and to morrow ye shall see me a king. Indeed,
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  Speaker 1: until tomorrow, then farewell, I must attend a conclave of
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  Speaker 1: the cardinals and show myself unto the multitude in Saint
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  Speaker 1: Peter's Church. You to the palace on the Aventine. There
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  Speaker 1: to sleep soft and dream of gold. They clasped hands.
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  Speaker 1: A hot color was in the Pope's face. The Syrian
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  Speaker 1: guards wait below, and the Lombard archers who stood beside
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  Speaker 1: you at Tivoli, they will attend you to the Imperial Palace.
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  Speaker 1: What shall I do there, asked Tyrie. It is early yet,
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  Speaker 1: and I do not love to sit alone. Then come
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  Speaker 1: to the service in the Basilica, come with a bold
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  Speaker 1: bearing and a rich dress to overawe these mongrel crowds
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  Speaker 1: of Rome. To that Tyrie made no answer. The Pope
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  Speaker 1: came quickly to his side. Do not go to Jacobea tonight,
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  Speaker 1: he said, earnestly. Remember if you fail me now, I
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  Speaker 1: shall not fail you or myself again. Farewell. Tyrie descended
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  Speaker 1: the stairs and now and then looked up, always to
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  Speaker 1: see fixed on him the yearning, fierce gaze of the
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  Speaker 1: one who stood by the gilded rails and stared down
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  Speaker 1: at his glittering figure. Only when he had completely disappeared
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  Speaker 1: in the turn of the stairs did Michael the second
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  Speaker 1: slowly return to the golden chamber and close the gorgeous doors. Tyrie,
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  Speaker 1: splendidly attent flashed through the riotous streets of Rome to
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  Speaker 1: the palace on the Aventine Hill. There he dismissed the knights.
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  Speaker 1: I shall not go to the Basilica tonight, he said,
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  Speaker 1: go thou there without me. He laid aside the golden
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  Speaker 1: armor the purple cloak, and attired himself in a dark
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  Speaker 1: habit and a steel corselet. He meant to be emperor
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  Speaker 1: to moral. He meant to be faithful to the Pope,
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  Speaker 1: but it was in his heart to see Jacobya once
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  Speaker 1: more before he accepted the devil's last gift and sign.
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  Speaker 1: Leaving the palace secretly when they all thought him in
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  Speaker 1: his chamber, he took his way toward the Appian gate.
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  Speaker 1: He gently pushed the convent gate and entered. The hot
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  Speaker 1: dusk just revealed to him the dim shapes of the
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  Speaker 1: white roses and the dark figure of a lady standing
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  Speaker 1: beside them. Jacobya, he whispered. She moved very slowly towards him. Ah, you, Jacobia,
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  Speaker 1: you must not remain in this place. Where are the nuns?
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  Speaker 1: She shook her head. They are dead of the plague
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  Speaker 1: days past, and I have buried them in the garden,
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  Speaker 1: he thought. She smiled. He followed her into the house,
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  Speaker 1: the chamber where they had sat before. A tall, pale
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  Speaker 1: candle burnt on the bare table, and by the light
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  Speaker 1: of it he saw her face. She crept with a slow,
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  Speaker 1: sick movement to a bench that stood against the wall,
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  Speaker 1: and sank down on it. Her features showed pinched and wan,
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  Speaker 1: her eyes unnaturally blue in the pallor of her face.
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  Speaker 1: You must return to Martzburg cried Tyrie distractedly, and thought
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  Speaker 1: of her as he had first seen her, bright and
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  Speaker 1: gay in a pale crimson dress. Nay, I shall return
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  Speaker 1: to Martzburg no more, she answered. He died to day.
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  Speaker 1: He who died, Jacobya. Very faintly, she smiled, Sebastian in Palestine.
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  Speaker 1: God let me see him then, because I had never
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  Speaker 1: looked on him since that morning on which you saw us, Sir.
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  Speaker 1: He has been a holy man fighting the Infidel. They
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  Speaker 1: wounded him, I think, and he was sick with fever.
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  Speaker 1: He crept into the shade, for it is very hot there, Sir,
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  Speaker 1: and died. Tirie stood dumb, and the mad hatred of
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  Speaker 1: the devil who brought about this misery anew possessed him.
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  Speaker 1: Jacobya spoke again. Maybe they have met in paradise. And
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  Speaker 1: as for me, I hope God may think me fit
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  Speaker 1: to die of late it seemed to me that the
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  Speaker 1: fiends were again troubling me. She clasped her hands tightly
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  Speaker 1: on her knees and shivered. Something evil is abroad? Who
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  Speaker 1: is the dancer? Last night I saw her crouching by
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  Speaker 1: my gait as I was making the grave of Sister Angela,
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  Speaker 1: and it seemed, it seemed that she bewitched me, as
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  Speaker 1: the young scholar did long ago. Tyrie leant heavily against
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  Speaker 1: the table. She is the Pope's spy and tool, he
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  Speaker 1: cried hoarsely. Ursula of Rousselarie, Jacobya's dim eyes were bewildered,
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  Speaker 1: ah Baltasar's wife. She faltered, But the Pope's tool? How
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  Speaker 1: should he meddle with an evil thing? Then he told her,
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  Speaker 1: in an outburst of wild, unnameable feeling, the Pope is
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  Speaker 1: dirk Renswold. The Pope is Antichrist? Do you not understand?
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  Speaker 1: And I am to help him rule the kingdom of
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  Speaker 1: the devil dirk Renswold. She muttered, And Ursula of Russelarie,
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  Speaker 1: why was it not to save Hugh of Russelerie that
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  Speaker 1: he rode that night? Tyrie lifted his head and looked her.
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  Speaker 1: Her utterance was feeble and confused, her eyes glazing in
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  Speaker 1: a livid face. He clasped his hands tightly over hers.
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  Speaker 1: What was Lord Hugh to him? She asked Ursula's father.
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  Speaker 1: I do not understand, cried Tyrie. But it is very
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  Speaker 1: clear to me I am dying. She loved you, loves
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  Speaker 1: you still that such things should be. Whom do you
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  Speaker 1: speak of? Jacobya, he cried. She drooped towards him, and
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  Speaker 1: he caught her in his arms. The city is accursed,
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  Speaker 1: she gasped, Give me Christian burial, if ever once you
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  Speaker 1: cared for me, and fly, fly, she strained, and writhed
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  Speaker 1: in his frantic embrace. And you never knew it was
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  Speaker 1: a woman, she whispered, Pope and dancer. God shrieked Tyrie
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  Speaker 1: and staggered to his feet, drawing her with him. She
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  Speaker 1: slipped from him to the bench water a crucifix. Oh,
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  Speaker 1: I have forgot my prayers. She stretched out her hands
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  Speaker 1: towards a wooden crucifix that hung on the wall, caught
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  Speaker 1: hold of it, pressed her lips to the feet. Sybylla,
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  Speaker 1: she said, and died with that name struggling in her throat.
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  Speaker 1: Tyrie stepped back from her with a strangled shriek that
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  Speaker 1: seemed to tear the breath from his body, and staggered
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  Speaker 1: against the table. The lightning leaped in through the dark
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  Speaker 1: window and appeared to plunge like a sword into the
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  Speaker 1: breast of the dead woman. Dead even as she uttered
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  Speaker 1: that horror dead, So suddenly the plague had slain her
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  Speaker 1: he did not wish to die, so he must leave
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  Speaker 1: this place. Was he not to be emperor to moral
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  Speaker 1: he fell to laughing. He crawled across the room and
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  Speaker 1: stared at Jacoba. She was not beautiful. He noticed that
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  Speaker 1: her hands were torn and stained with earth from making
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  Speaker 1: the graves of the nuns. She had asked for Christian burial.
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  Speaker 1: He could not stay to give it to her. He
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  Speaker 1: fiercely hated her for what she had told him, Yet
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  Speaker 1: he took up the ends of her yellow hair and
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  Speaker 1: kissed them again. The thunder and lightning and wild howlings
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  Speaker 1: reached him from without, as ghosts and night hags wandered
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  Speaker 1: past to hold court within the accursed city. The candle
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  Speaker 1: shot up a long tongue of flame and went out.
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  Speaker 1: Tyrie staggered across the darkness. A flash of lightning showed
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  Speaker 1: him the door. As the thunder crashed above the city.
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  Speaker 1: He fled from the convent and from Rome and of
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  Speaker 1: Section thirty two recording by Molly Craig