Chapter One: The Mad

After the strange distant explosions, Roswell, Aloysius, Lisa and Lord Humphrey head on down to the church. But they don't find what they expect.

            I should say that the journey to the Church took little time. That Lord Humphrey’s chauffeur made great haste in bridling the horses to the coach. But, truth be known, the chauffeur was as stricken with the horror of the distant clouds that were slowly starting to spread outwards as the rest of us were. By the time all were ready, I had been acting in his stead for many of the tasks. The man never spoke a word, merely looked at me with eyes that passed right through me.

             When Lisa stepped out of the house, her eyes quickly darted to the distant sky, widening with confusion and shock. 

            “What’s happened?” she asked from the top of the steps. Judging from the gaze she spread from the Lord Williams to Aloysius, I could surmise that neither had said a word to her.

             “It’s the Hand of God,” was all Aloysius could say. “His Judgment is upon us.”

             “We don’t know that quite yet,” I reminded him curtly. I turned and looked to the black clouds that were starting to draw nearer by the moment. “We saw a spire of flame in the distance not long ago,” I told her. “It rose up to the sky. I cannot be sure, but it appeared to be coming from London.” I looked up to her.

             “A spire of flame?” she asked. I could see the sudden fear and worry in her eyes. Her sister was in London.

             “Yes, yes,” the Lord Williams said. “It was all very frightening. That’s why I believe we must make haste to the Church! Richard! Blast it, man! Why aren’t you ready yet?”

             “Forgive me, milord,” Richard said, pleading. “I was looking at the sky when the great bolt flashed before me eyes. I’m afraid I still can’t see very well ‘tall.”

             “What did you say?” Aloysius cried. “You say you’ve been blinded?”

             “Aye, Master Deacon,” Richard said. “Not completely blind though, I can still see a little, but it’s as if I’m staring down a tunnel.”

             “Well enough to get us to the Church without running the horses over a fallen tree?” Aloysius exclaimed. He hadn’t bothered to wait for poor Richard to reply. He turned to the Lord Humphrey. “You see? This is God’s work. He took your man’s sight from him.”

             “We can’t say if it was God or not yet, Aloysius,” I said. He turned and narrowed his eyes as though they were to bore through my skull. “It was a very bright flash, much brighter than a bolt of lightning. If you stare at the sun, you would be just as blind.” 

            “What else could have caused that?!” Aloysius cried out. He pointed at the clouds. 

            “If you men are quite done arguing, may we please make haste to the Church, then?” said Lisa. The look on her face was serious and concerned, a look that I had not seen upon her face before. It wrenched my heart to see her so.

             “Yes, my Lady,” I quickly said. “I apologize.” I looked to Aloysius, whose jaw was set in place. The look on his face told me our discussion was far from over, but he did not voice anything at that time.

             It hadn’t taken much longer for Richard to finished preparing the coach, and when he did, we wasted little time in making our way into the city and to the Church. I chose to ride up top with him, should his poor sight threaten the wellbeing of those inside the coach. We saw few people. During a normal afternoon in Sheffield, any number of people could be seen, but the roads were eerily silent that eve. Those we did see all seemed to be making great haste in getting to where they were going. Many seemed to be moving towards the Church.

             When we finally came upon it, I could scarcely believe my eyes. There would have been a thousand people, unless my eyes deceived me. They were fighting, nay, battling before the church. Amid shouts and blows, there were two clear factions. Those that were defending the church, and those that intended to burn it to the ground. Men and women screamed at each other, at the House of God itself. We were forced to stop the coach as we realized what they had been doing.

             “What is happening?” Aloysius asked. “What is all that screaming?” He leaned out of the cabin.

             “I believe they’re attempting to burn the Church down,” I told him.

             “What!?” Aloysius exclaimed. The coach had barely come to a stop when he threw open the doors and stumbled out. He looked to the Church with the utmost horror and fell to his knees.

            “Aloysius, come now! Get up!” the Lord Williams exclaimed.

             “No!” he exclaimed. He took a few steps forward. “You fools!” He was screaming now, beating his fists uselessly against the cobblestone. “You’ll invite His Wrath!”

             Suddenly, some number of the crowd turned towards us.

             “Aloysius,” I warned.

             “You oafs and peasants!” Aloysius screamed. He was nearly in tears. “You heretics! I will see you burn in Hell for this!”

             Some of them started to advance towards us.

             “My word!” Lord Williams exclaimed. “Aloysius, be silent! You’re drawing them over. Get back in the coach, you silly man!”

             “Aloysius,” I said. I hopped down off of the coach, lifted the man from the ground. “We must go. Now, Aloysius.”

             “No!” he wrenched himself from my grasp. “The heathens must be held accountable!” He raised a fist with righteous indignation, ready to go to his death to battle the advancing men.

             “That’s all well and good,” I said. “But those heathens are about to kill us, now get in the coach!” I grabbed him again, all thoughts of being gentle foregone, and threw him up and into its side. Lord Williams did his part, dragging the struggling man inside despite his protestations and latching the door shut. I wasted little time in climbing back up. Upon seeing this, the rioters from the Church increased their pace to a run. The coach, with Richard at the helm, started to move forward. 

            “What are you doing?” Lord Williams declared. “We must get away from them, not towards them!”

             “Aye, milord,” Richard said. He reined in the horses and goaded them to turn. The rioters drew ever closer now. I held in my hand the spare riding crop, if the need to defend the coach arose. It wasn’t going to be much good against the lot of them, but for want of some comfort, I clenched it in my hands.

             There was a sudden jerk that served only to jolt my already shaken nerves and the horses took off at a gallop. Beneath us, the road was moving by swiftly. The coach was vibrating wildly, shaking beneath us. It would not have been able withstand the onslaught of the rioters.

             I looked back to the inside of the coach. Lisa’s eyes met mine with concern and fear. I could not have even said what look my eyes betrayed at that time. Aloysius was brooding quietly in the corner, and the Lord Williams merely looked back to me. All were shaken up.

             “Well then,” Lord Williams announced. “I suppose we should go back to the estate. We can work out our next course of action over tea.”

             I looked to Richard, and he to me. I could see in his eyes that we were sharing the same thoughts. If the rioters could attack a church in such a fashion, it would not take long for them to see the Lord’s Estate as the inevitable conclusion to their rampage. We would go now, but for how long?

Reviews

[Dempsey Wilson (D.L. Wi..]

Nice job, E.J., It is obvious you've done your homework on this subject. Again, excellent use of appropriate vinacular. While reading this, I felt like I was several hundred years in the past. You paint a realistic, detailed picture. Good job!