the haunted kingdom by Charles E.J. Moulton (best detective novels of all time .TXT) 📖

quiet place to meditate and get away from the entire uproar of the royal life of a crown princess. It seemed there was a hum about this place. It was as if the angels were singing pleading love songs in here. It was a perfect spot to get away from the hectic bureaucracy of regal endevour, certainly: somewhere where she was neither Her Royal Majesty nor the object of someone’s murderous and bloodthirsty thoughts.
She knelt, did the sign of the cross and started walking toward the left wing. The gregoranian chants echoed through the arches and her thoughts drifted back to her childhood. She had sung these Gregorian chants as well, having heard her father sing them, he had made the walls resonate and the wooden benches vibrate.
“Angele Dei, Qui custos es mei, Me tibi commissum pietate superna; Hodie, Hac nocte illumina, custodi, rege, et guberna. Amen.”
A young woman dressed in a simple toga smiled at her, thinking her a clerical mistress, nodded graciously and kept on walking. Belinda’s eyes were glancing at the row of paintings of Jesus’ life and death completed by Iuventus’ own long-gone master Penderesci. There were a few praying faithful here today and it made her happy she lived in such a lovely kingdom of believers.
She looked up at the dome. Light was shining down through the windows and there were a few monks up there, talking, looking like ants from down here.
Coming to the middle, she looked at the coloured windows with pictures of the twelve apostles on them and Jesus in the middle stretching out his arms. She kneeled down and prayed.
Two monks, customary to tradition, kneeled on each side of her and prayed with her. She estimated their ages to be around thirty respectively. One of them was a young man she had seen before. The other she guessed had a higher position due to his beige cap. He was a supervisor of sorts. Their bowing heads gave her such a respectful sensation of placidness that she almost thought of thanking them for their gentility. Their brown robes and traditional rosaries gave her hope that this country could survive all the darkness that was threatening it.
“Vere Sanctus, vere benedictus!” The monks sang, their voices echoing through the cathedral. Belinda raised her head and waited. The doors of her soul opened and fresh air was let in. The monks raised their heads. One of them spoke softly: “God bless the Virgin Mary. God bless the clerical mistress!” She stood up and the monks with her. “God bless you, child!”
“And you, Sire!”
Now she knew why she had returned to her faith. She felt as if there was a truth to this introverted, unphysical reality. As they parted ways she had to smile looking back at them, humble as before. They had just blessed her and she felt wonderful about that. They would have no comprehension who they had just blessed. There were other clerical mistresses in here and they were all quietly praying with their long head covered sky-blue robes with white crosses swaying when they walked. They were considered clean and pure and had to be virgins in order to attain the post.
After five years of praying and serving the cross they were given permission to become part of the Holy Order of Mary Magdalene, a service that traveled the kingdom to spread joy among the poor. The clerical mistress had a very special place in the kingdom and they prayed to the blessed St. Raphael, whose cathedral this was. His blue colour resembled the sky and the birds and the trees.
(“Gloria in excelsis deo”)
The open space of the floor under the dome transcended into a duct replaced by a new arch, now a passageway of saints and famous people of the kingdom who had served the powers of good. She kept on walking and knew that the clerical mistress coming her way expected the customary embrace. They stopped and nodded after embracing. Something in her told her to talk to this woman.
The girl was barely two years older than herself and dark haired.
“A blessed good morrow to you, Sister of the Lord!”
Belinda replied.
”Good Day and blessing to you as well, Sister heart!”
“Embrace the light for I have seen the Lord!” They embraced and Belinda sensed there was fear there. Belinda felt it strongly. Fear that she might’ve chosen the wrong road. Her hands were shaking.
“Bless you, Sister heart, and walk in peace!”
The young woman was afraid of this uncustomary reply.
“Sweet girl, walk in peace!” Belinda repeated. “What is the matter?”
For a second or two she saw the face under that blue hood. It was a sweet face and the smile that met her was lovely and dimple cheeked. She was certainly a lovely girl that men could fall in love with. There was a hesitation there, however, and her lip began to tremble.
“Sister, what is the matter?”
“My heart,” she spoke. “I … am nervous and it seems I cannot hold back the tears.”
”If I can be your shelter, then come under my roof.” Belinda asked, tenderly.
(“Laudate Dominum, quoniam bonus est psalmus” the monks sang)
”I have no one to speak to about my fears, you see …”
”Then speak to me. I will listen if you need me to listen to you.”
“I am afraid, Sister heart. Afraid of having made the wrong choice.”
”I am an open book. I know fear like the back of my hand.”
(“Ecclesiam sanctam catholicam”)
(echoes in a blessed archway)
”I left my fiancée last week.”
“We are supposed to be virgins,” Belinda whispered carefully.
“Sister,” the girl said. “I always was a virgin and still am. We promised chastity until our nuptial connection. He agreed that joining physically was a thing of marriage that love doesn’t need.”
“You aren’t sure of your vocation?” Belinda realized this might be out of her capacity and range as a believer. She maybe wasn’t even entitled to give her the advice, not actually being a Clerical Mistress. The young woman shook her head.
“I love being here.” She looked around. “It gives me hope to be here, but…”
(“Laudate Dominum, quoniam bonus est psalmus”)
“I have wondered whom I might say this to and if some Sister might listen to my words.”
Belinda smiled. “Do you still love him?”
She smiled tenderly. “We were to be married. We kept the vow of absolute cleanliness before marriage. I feared that he was seeing someone else. We fought and he hurt my feelings. I left him and chose this to escape, if nothing else.” She looked down. “I do not know if I was right to leave him.”
(“Christe Eleison, Kyrie Eleison“)
“Only you can answer that, Sister! Only remember that the church is no escape route away from reality, but a forum to face life.” Belinda sighed. “The heart of the Lord can entail worldly love.”
“I am here to face reality,” the girl sighed. “May God forgive my sins, but I am not sure that I can be a follower to someone like Mary Magdalene.”
Belinda stroked her cheek. “Remember that Mary Magdalene, too, once was an insecure sinner before she found God. We are all sinners. We are all imperfect. Even the apostles were sinners.” Belinda smiled. “Peter denied the Lord three times. We are here to learn. We are none of us spared from ever evolving and trying to better our faults. Even the archbishop has faults.”
Her whisper echoed in the archway. The girl smiled at this.
“I wish I knew what was right.” the girl trembled. “I feel as if I’ve done everything wrong.”
(“Christe Eleison, Kyrie Eleison“)
Belinda felt blessed to have this total stranger reach out to her. It felt important to help her.
The Clerical Mistress was known to feel sisterhood, have confidence in the other woman by way of their own faith, known to her or not. The fact that she had this ability fulfilled her.
(“In Gloria dei patri”)
(“Christe Eleison, Kyrie Eleison“)
“Ask God to tell you what is right, to show you your inner most self and its wishes. I think you already know what you want. If you want him then God will know that you love him as well.”
The robe was covering half her face now. It was a very distinct, personal and pretty face.
“Take some time of Sanctuary to think of what is right. Ask St. Raphael to help you. There is no rule that says you can’t take some time to feel in your heart what your heart really wants before you take the vow of vocation.” After a half year she knew the mistresses were asked to take a vow to stay the five years before taking the actual step into the holy order. “You aren’t there yet, are you?” She shook her head. “How long?” The girl held up four fingers. “Four months away?” She nodded and smiled, the dimples appearing again. “You see, love? Think about it and then if you feel you can serve God better as a mother of baby boys, then do. Give it time. God will understand. Your heart knows what is best.” Belinda saw that she had made her feel hope. “God wants you to be happy.”
The girl embraced Belinda and she felt the warmth coming from her soul.
“Maybe you can talk to your boy in the meantime and see what he feels, tell him you need time. Be open. If it is your fate to be a nun, so be it. If it is your fate to be a mother, so be it.”
She nodded. “Thank you for being there for me. My fiancée still loves me. And I him.”
“Go to him. Certainly, I am there to help. Only happy if I could help.”
The girl hesitated for a second and then took out a small object out of her inside pocket, actually reserved for the holy book. “No one knows I have this, but I want you to have it.” It was small wooden object, made of mahogany, painted red in the form of a heart. There were three words inscribed upon it painted white. They read: “LOVE AND FAMILY”.
“It is an old gift from old friend. She gave it to me only if I promised to pass it on one day. You are the only one who has listened and it has helped me to feel inside myself.”
Belinda shook her head in surprise.
“My dear, why are you giving me this?”
”For I was naked and you clothed me, I was hungry and you gave me to eat, what you do to the least of my brothers, you do to me.”
She smiled sadly and stroked Belinda’s cheek, nodding.
“I will not forget you!”
Belinda was touched by this display of spiritual depth.
“Go to your friend,” Belinda said. “He is waiting for you.” The princess looked down at the heart. It was a beautiful thing and quite unusual. “I shall keep this close to my heart, always.”
“Bless you, Sister heart!”
The girl smiled, nodded and walked away, her swaying blue cape disappearing out of sight.
(“Christe Eleison, Kyrie Eleison, Amen“)
Belinda walked behind the altar, gazing at the gilded gates with engravings of the apostles. The rose windows of the angels surrounding Mary Magdalene made her think of this mysterious girl that had appeared out of nowhere.
The altarpiece of Mary and the baby Jesus was surrounded by a hundred lit candles.
(“Gloria in excelsis deo”)
The echoes of the chants were fainter now.
A monk was in the Sanctuary Chapel just to the right of the altar. It was a small chapel that seemed like a world of its’ own. There