Haunted by the Neverborn by C. David Belt

Author:C. David Belt
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: urban fantasy, ghosts, lds fiction, mormon fiction, haunting, possession, horror fiction, utah, latterday saint, demon fantasy
Publisher: Parables
Published: 2024-05-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

New Canaan, Utah, Thursday, January 5th, 2023

Clad in polished plate mail, two squires sat astride massive, armored warhorses as big as Clydesdales. At the drop of a red, triangular flag, they spurred their horses and charged at each other, their long lances steady. The hall was silent, save for the thundering of the horses’ hooves.

Each lance struck the other squire’s shield and shattered with loud cracks and a spray of wooden splinters.

Mari and Harvey and the rest of the crowd cheered in approval, as both squires, still safely atop their mounts, slowed their horses to a canter and continued to opposite ends of the lists.

Mari glanced at Harvey. He smiled wide, and his eyes shone with unabashed joy.

Mari had never been so happy, at least not that she could recall. Twelve days, and he’s still here.

And me? I’m utterly, deliriously besotted.

Mari and Harvey sat on a bench at a long table above the indoor jousting field—the “lists,” as they were called—on the castle grounds of Templar’s Keep. They held hands under the table as they dined on a sumptuous feast of spit-roasted meats—beef, pork, mutton, and chicken—a variety of cheeses, a rich stew of mutton, vegetables, and barley, hand pies—”pasties”—of both the meat and the fruit varieties, dark bread and butter and honey, stewed apples and raisins, and flagons of grape juice—nonalcoholic, of course.

In the course of her research on Templar’s Keep, Mari had learned that no alcoholic beverages of any kind were available anywhere in New Canaan. She had also discovered that the lack of alcohol—as well as tobacco, coffee, and black tea—was not due to any town ordinance or local law, but rather because the citizens of New Canaan simply did not want it in their town.

The scene playing out around them was right from of a movie, as if Mari and Harvey had been magically transported through time to a bygone era of medieval knights and ladies. Youthful pages—all students at Templar Academy—clad in brown tunics with a red cross emblazoned on their chests, moved among the guests, bearing platters of food and flagons of drink. Mari noted that there were both male and female pages—the boys wore tunics and trousers, while the girls wore full-length, brown skirts under their tunics.

The stone floor was strewn with hay that somehow gave off the scent of herbs. Along the stone walls, innumerable beeswax candles burned in holly-adorned sconces. Mari had expected torches to provide the illumination. She’d asked a page—a girl who looked to be no older than ten—about the lighting, and the girl replied that torches were too “Hollywood,” that they “smelled,” and that they created too much smoke for a dining hall. Mari imagined that there were electric lights somewhere in the building for emergency purposes, but if there were, they were well-hidden and turned off. From the moment Mari and Harvey entered the hall, the only light came from the candles and a half dozen cavernous fireplaces blazing with warming fires.

The modern clothing of the

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