Chapter 7: Lord Pompadour

Leana was overjoyed to see Teddy. Words could not express her relief, or her delight at her own and Wounded Child’s reunion with their maverick spirit guide. “But the giant frog?” she asked “He is ok, isn’t he?” 

“He is indeed,” said Teddy, “He made it to Black Friars before the destruction and will be waiting there for us.” 

“And the poor old woman, what happened to her? Who did such a dreadful thing?” 

Teddy spoke of the mercenary witch-finder, known as Monsieur Pompadour. Teddy had not seen the cruel murder take place, but he had heard the old woman’s screams and he had found Lord Pompadour’s coat of arms, left as a calling card and as a warning to other women who practiced the Old Religion and the Healing Arts. 

“I know him!” said Leana, “He appeared in my dreams, displaying his so-called power by kicking a young boy. I think I know the boy too, and I am becoming more sure that he needs our help.” 

Wounded Child was feeling overwhelmed, but she knew that they needed to lay the old woman to rest before moving on. Together, the three small figures scraped out a hole in the soft damp earth of Frog Island, deep enough to bury the head of the old woman to protect it from scavengers. 

All three wept as they placed the head in the grave. It did not feel right to bury her head separately from her body, but they did not know what else to do. Wounded Child gently closed the old woman’s staring eyes. As she did so, a small acorn-like object fell from the woman’s mouth. Wounded Child reached for it, and heard a voice. 

Within this seed lies a kernel of the truth 

You have been chosen to protect this truth 

And reveal it when the time is right 

Wounded Child turned the seed over in her hand, feeling its warmth and energy. “The Power of the Feminine” she thought to herself, as something of the power it contained became a part of her. 

Teddy, Leana and Wounded Child each said a silent prayer, wishing the woman well as she journeyed to the next world. Despite their tiredness, they knew they needed to move on. Leana tucked Teddy into the belt around her waist so that he could show them the way to Black Friars monastery. 

Wounded Child followed solemnly behind - no gleeful calls or requests to play and explore this time. As they left the Island, Wounded Child noticed a small leather pouch. It was perfectly and skilfully crafted, and hanging from the branch of a tree. Lifting it down, she realised that it was the perfect size and shape to carry the kernel of truth. She placed the kernel into the pouch, and brought it to her lips to bless it with a kiss. The smell from the pouch reminded her of Black Annis. She looked at the neat little stitches before placing the leather pouch around her neck. It rested lightly in the centre of her chest, sending a message of hope to her heart. 

Their destination was close, so it was not long before the weary group found themselves at the start of the ash-lined laneway that would take them to Black Friars. As they approached, Teddy spotted guards bearing the crest of Lord Pompadour. There were no signs of the black-caped followers of St. Dominic, and no signs of the giant frog. Teddy motioned to Leana, and they slipped into the woods before the soldiers could spot them. 

They moved silently through the woods, eventually reaching a clearing surrounded by seven oak trees. Stopping here to rest, they were approached by a girl aged about thirteen, who was clutching a rosary in her left hand. 

“Good people” she began, “My name is Mary and I mean you no harm. I came to this place some days since, to this Dominican Order to discover the mysteries, to live in the love of my Lord Jesus Christ, and to seek my Father’s will. But when I arrived my brothers and sisters were gone and the monastery burned to the ground on the King’s orders. Only the great hall remains. Soldiers were everywhere, led by a man who was ten foot tall!” 

“I was very frightened, but I was also hungry, having travelled for many days with little food to reach the monastery. So I moved amongst the soldiers, hoping to find some scraps of food. And they did not notice me, for I am just a girl - too young yet for their attention and too female for them to see me as a threat. I do not know what drew me there, but I was able to move undetected right up to where the giant man was standing and I saw, by his feet, a small boy with terror in his eyes. Our eyes met, and it was clear that the boy had something to say to me so I stayed close until, at last, we had a chance to speak. He asked me to look out for a small girl in a white dress, with golden hair and light shining from her eyes. He asked me to tell the girl where he was, for he was sure she was looking for him too, and he asked me to tell her his name.” 

“Garsoon!” Leana interjected, “His name is Garsoon!” 

“By God, yes it is!” declared Mary, “Garsoon is the name he told me, for he is not of this land, but from over the sea. I can take you to him, but we must be careful not to draw the attention of the tall man or his guards.” 

“I know the name of the tall man too” said Leana, “He is Lord Pompadour, destroyer of the Old Ways, silencer of women and bringer of darkness and chaos. I do not know how long his reign will last, but my dreams have shown me his legacy of soul sickness, which will last for generations to come.” 

“I believe that the Father brought me here to help you all.” said Mary, “We must hasten to rescue the boy. There is a network of tunnels leading to the monastery and to the seat of Kings Power. Not many know of the tunnels so it will be the safest route for us to take.” 

The new friends set off, Mary leading and Leana lighting the way. They knew they were near to their destination when they heard shouting, snarling and the scrape of metal on the hard stone floor. Wounded Child went ahead, standing on tip-toe to peer through a metal grating into an enormous room. She could see the tall man pacing the floor. The small boy that her friends spoke of was huddled in the corner. Suddenly Lord Pompadour stopped pacing and looked about. 

“I smell magic!” he declared, “I smell evil, and magic, and female spirits!” 

He called sharply to the boy, instructing him to “fetch the witch-pricking stick, for we have confessions to hear!” The boy scuttled to do his master’s bidding, making his way over to a large chest containing an assortment of vile and dangerous instruments. He selected the bodkin that he knew Lord Pompadour liked to use when he set out to prove his accusations of witchcraft. Hearing a sound outside, and believing his prey to be close, Lord Pompadour went to investigate. The boy was unattended and the group of friends took their chance, lifting the metal grating so that Leana could haul herself up through the opening and enter the hall. 

“Garsoon” she whispered, “It is time”. The boy glanced fearfully at the door lest Lord Pompadour should return, but he had waited for this moment and he followed Leana’s instructions, easily lowering his slight frame into the tunnel. Leana was just about to follow when Lord Pompadour came into the room. 

The giant man snarled and swirled, turning on the tiny child with a mighty and vengeful stare, and a hand raised ready to strike. Leana met the man’s stare with one of her own, her piercing gaze belying her tiny size, particularly in contrast to the giant that stood before her. Words shot through her mind “The Power is within me, not the power of the mind, the Power of the Feminine. A Force of a Kind.” Looking directly at Lord Pompadour, she spoke the words that came straight from her heart and from the place of ancient knowing inside her. 

“I am the daughter of a female deity and I challenge you, Lord Pompadour. I challenge you and your king, and I challenge your dominion. I will not subject myself to your will!” 

Rays of light shone from the girl as she spoke, sure and determined in her rejection of the Dark Lord’s values. Sunbeams danced from the walls, dazzling Lord Pompadour, who held up his hands to shield his eyes from the light. 

“Witch-child, you and your kind are doomed! I will destroy you all. I will use you as I wish and then I will kill you!” 

“You cannot kill me, Sir, for I am of True Spirit, and I cannot be destroyed. Whatever evil you choose to do to me, you do to yourself. Your own hatred and anger will turn in on your self, and eat whatever is left of your cruel heart. Do your evil, Sir! Do your evil as you have done to my grandmothers, to my mother and to my sisters. Do your evil, for in the doing, you will be undone!” 

Leana turned on the spot where she stood, and the light shining from her eyes began to project scenes onto the walls about them. Leana cast her eyes around the great hall, and scene after scene played out. Scenes of cruelty, of torture, of rape, of murder. Violation and rape and torture of blessed children and of their weeping mothers. Lord Pompadour came towards Leana with the fire of murderous rage in his eyes. But Leana’s light continued to shine with a force and a brightness that sealed and protected her, while continuing to project more and more scenes of darkness and destruction. 

“Witch-child, you are a liar! These are lies and you will die on the stake for you are truly a witch!” 

“No Sir, I will not die, for my heart and my spirit are true. Neither will I be silent for your convenience! I will not hide the truth so that you do not have to face the evil that is within you” 

As she spoke, the light shone from her eyes with even greater power and intensity. “The Power of the Feminine” she confirmed to herself, “It shines strong and true, and it will give me all that I need to defend myself from this malevolent force. There is no need for me to be afraid.” 

She summoned all of her energy and the light shone forth, a single beam now shining strong and true, and directly into Lord Pompadour’s right eye. As she watched, and just for a moment, Leana thought she saw tears on the giant man’s cheeks. When she looked again, she saw that it was small metal shards that fell from his eyes. “Fragments,” she thought, “from his cold, hard, cruel heart”. 

Lord Pompadour howled, perhaps more with humiliation than with pain. He lunged forward to grab Leana, stumbling in his blindness, and his great height causing him to crash heavily to the floor. Leana seized her chance. She retreated to the grating, lowering herself into the tunnel where her friends were waiting.