Alfred! Alfred!
CROSS OF THE DEVIL
Alfred.
Alfred.
Wake up.
Maria.
You know this will k*ll you eventually.
One must die of something sooner or later.
Maybe kief will k*ll me.
I bring you news.
I'm afraid you won't like any of it.
Then tell me about it, piece by piece.
This morning,
I came across your beloved editor.
Tell him that I love him.
He had a warning for you.
If you send your articles late again,
you'd better start looking for a new job.
Tell him he can go to hell.
The best thing you can do,
my dear, is to start writing.
What would I do without you?
You'd be looking for a woman.
I had the same dream again.
Too much kief.
Everything about it seemed so real.
Why don't you write about that?
First, I'd need to understand
what it means.
No, I don't believe kief
is the cause of these nightmares,
because I suffer them
even when I don't smoke.
I'd like to write about that,
but lately,
it's hard for me.
It's like...
Like the well has run dry.
LEGENDS - I
GUSTAVO ADOLFO BECQUER
Where did you find it?
In Chelsea.
I found it in a pile of old books.
I thought it might be of interest to you.
It is interesting.
Look.
Knights Templar, just like in my dreams.
The sword ready to slay the woman
repeating my name
over and over again.
It's unbelievable.
"Knights Templar,
members of a military order
of the Middle Ages."
Keep reading.
"The mission of this order
was to protect the pilgrims
who were bound for the Holy Land.
Over time, they amassed wealth and power.
An evil power.
They renounced Catholicism
and consecrated themselves
with occult rites.
They worshiped an idol
by the name of Baphomet.
They spread across Europe,
particularly in Spain.
But in 1312, the order was disbanded."
- Why did you purchase this book?
- I've already told you.
Also, I figured it might spark
some ideas for you.
You have correspondence.
Let's see who's written to you.
One comes from Spain.
Here.
It's from my sister!
My dear Alfred,
Forgive me for not writing to you
for so many weeks,
but something terrible has happened to me.
I had a miscarriage,
and my husband blames me
for losing the child.
Enrique is so bitter
that he will never forgive me.
I feel lonely and frightened.
Can you come to Madrid?
I need you.
With love,
Justine.
Trouble?
Read it.
What are you going to do?
I should go see her.
I don't understand
what could underlie all of this.
It looks like she's in trouble and
I'm the only one who can help her.
Alfred,
is there anything I can do?
Yes.
Book me a passage to Bilbao.
What about your job?
I'll ask for a leave of absence.
They won't allow it.
Then I'll have to quit.
Can I come with you?
I haven't visited my country for so long.
Please, Alfred.
You don't know Spain, but I do.
It's my country.
I might be able to help you.
On one condition.
Say it.
You must leave me alone about kief.
I will try.
And I will try to quit smoking.
I doubt that either of us
will succeed.
I love you.
I love you, too, dear.
But I don't delude myself.
For me,
you only have
a little corner in your heart,
and that's it.
- That's not true.
- Yes, it is, dear.
I can foresee the future,
and I know that one day
you will leave me.
For whom?
Who knows?
Maybe the woman in your dreams,
the one who calls you.
But in the meantime,
I'm content with loving you
with all my heart.
LEGENDS - I
GUSTAVO ADOLFO BECQUER
Justine.
Such an unexpected surprise.
I've come looking for you.
Of course.
I need to talk to you, César.
You seem restless. Is something wrong?
- I'm worried about Enrique.
- You are?
Yesterday,
we had another violent argument.
It was over some silly thing,
but he yelled at me.
What was it about?
Nothing, really.
But it concerned you.
What?
He'd been drinking.
Perhaps I shouldn't take it literally.
What did he say?
He said you'd understand
me perfectly well.
Are you sure he was talking about me?
No.
But I'm worried he may know everything.
No.
Nonetheless, I do think
he's smarter than I gave him credit for.
But I'm not really worried.
Enrique needs my services
as much as I need the job.
I manage his affairs flawlessly
and I put on a happy
face while I take
the scraps he pays me in return.
Is this why you came to see me?
No.
What is it, then?
I want you out of my life
as soon as possible.
I beg you to present your resignation
to Enrique and leave.
I'm sorry I won't be able to please you.
I'm afraid you'll have
to get used to seeing me.
When you lost the baby,
Enrique blamed you.
Then, it suited you to come
to me in search of solace.
Now, our relations
are a thing of the past
and it pricks your conscience.
Doesn't it?
I want to save my marriage.
And I want to keep my job.
Besides, deep down,
I'm still loyal to Enrique.
Your only loyalty is to César.
Besides that.
Exclusively.
César.
In a few days,
my brother will arrive in Madrid.
If you're still here by then,
I'll tell him everything.
Even about the unspeakable practices
in which you sought to initiate me.
Don't you threaten me, Justine.
Goodbye.
Goodbye.
Good evening, sir, madam.
Good evening.
I'm Alfred Dawson,
Mrs. Carrillo's brother.
My master is awaiting you.
Did you bring any luggage?
- It's at the station.
- I'll send for it.
- Excuse me, please.
- By all means.
Hail, Mary, full of grace,
the Lord is with you.
Blessed are you among women
and blessed is
the fruit of your womb, Jesus...
Now and at the hour of our death.
Amen.
Hail, Mary, full of grace,
the Lord is with you.
Blessed are you among women
and blessed is
the fruit of your womb, Jesus...
Hail, Mary, full of grace,
the Lord is with you.
Blessed are you among women
and blessed is
the fruit of your womb, Jesus.
Justine!
Justine!
It's Justine!
Mr. Dawson.
My name is Del Rio.
I'm Mr. Carrillo's secretary.
It's unfortunate to meet you
under such tragic circumstances.
Please accept my condolences.
We didn't expect you so soon.
I...
I wrote a letter to you and...
What happened?
In a hunting party,
she got lost.
We found her...
Dead.
An accident.
No.
No, she was assaulted
by a vagabond
who attempted to steal her jewelry.
The police arrested him.
He's in jail.
He'll be tried for m*rder.
Where is my brother-in-law?
He's resting.
It wouldn't be wise to disturb him now.
It goes without saying that
he is deeply affected.
Maybe tomorrow?
I don't know.
Come in.
I heard someone arriving.
Who is it?
The gentleman is Mr. Dawson.
A lady accompanies him.
Mr. Del Rio is presently with them.
Do you wish anything else, sir?
Nothing. Thank you.
You haven't eaten today.
Would you like me
to get you something, sir?
No, thank you.
It's been dreadful for Enrique.
First the baby,
and now this.
Would it be possible
for me to talk to the suspect?
To the m*rder*r?
To the m*rder*r, since you've
already sentenced him.
I'll see what | can do.
It may prove difficult.
Needless to say,
authorities don't take kindly
to interviews being held
with suspects awaiting trial.
Well,
I must take my leave now.
I have business to attend to.
Ring the bell if you need anything.
I'll be in the study.
I am so sorry, Alfred.
As children,
Justine and I were inseparable.
When something happened to one of us,
the other always seemed to feel it.
Even if we were far apart.
I don't know.
I feel like
she's still trying to communicate with me.
Perhaps to let me know
who m*rder*d her.
Don't you think it's possible?
Dear, don't attempt
to reach out to the dead.
Go to bed.
And try to get some sleep.
I know he'll never forgive me.
I'm frightened.
Thirteen.
Ego te absolvo
a peccatis tuis
in no mine Patris
et Filii
et Spiritus Sancti.
- Amen.
- Amen.
Amen.
Who found Justine's body?
- A shepherd.
- Where?
At the base of a mountain.
In an odd place.
It's an almost barren area
known as the Devil's Cross.
Folks there are superstitious, fearful.
There are many legends.
What is that mountain called?
The Mount of Souls.
And what do those legends say?
They're stories about the Devil.
Medieval knights leaving their graves
on All Hallows' Day
to terrorize certain places.
Places like the Devil's Cross.
Did the shepherd witness the m*rder?
No.
But, before he found the body,
he spotted a man running away.
Was he able to identify that man?
I believe he was.
Have the police figured out
the motive for the crime, Mr. Carrillo?
Theft.
She was wearing a bracelet I got her
on our last wedding anniversary.
It was missing when we found her body.
Has it been found?
No.
Did the suspect have the time
to get rid of it before he was arrested?
I don't know.
Could you ask the police about that?
That's what I intend to do, Enrique.
Moreover, I hope to be allowed
to speak with the prisoner
and visit the spot
where Justine was m*rder*d.
Personally, I have no doubts.
The man arrested by the police
is Justine's m*rder*r.
The evidence seems
to me to be very weak.
I'm shocked
that you accept it so readily.
Justine was my wife,
and I truly loved her.
The only thing that matters to me,
above all else,
is to bring her k*ller to justice.
Hello, Maria.
This book deals with the Order
of the Knights Templar here in Spain.
In Sorta. Listen.
"When Alfonso the Battler died,
the Knights Templar inherited his kingdom
and gained enormous power.
This power
was the root cause of their decline
and brought about their total destruction.
The order was disbanded
and they renounced religion to devote
themselves to Satanism and black magic.
In Sorta, near a place called
the Mount of Souls,
a bloody battle took place in which
the last of them were slaughtered.
Their monastery was obliterated.
Legend has it that,
on All Hallows' Day,
they leave their graves
and come back to life,
to perform their rites
and practice black magic once again."
Enrique asked me to give you this letter.
He hopes that, with it, you will obtain
authorization to see the prisoner.
The warden of the prison
is an old friend of his.
Thank you.
I'm afraid you have come
too late, Mr. Dawson.
I would have been happy to oblige,
but the man you wanted to meet
is dead.
He was found hanged
in his cell this morning.
I'm sorry.
Please give my regards to Mr. Carrillo.
Thank you.
It's me, Alfred.
You were gone so long.
I was worried about you.
In a way,
I've been worried about myself.
Why?
When I was coming back from prison,
someone tried to k*ll me.
k*ll you?
Yes, but I wasn't hurt, I'm fine.
Do you want me to bring you something?
I could use a glass of whiskey.
Do you mind?
No, of course not.
Wait here.
Thank you.
You'll tell me everything when I'm back.
Do you think these accidents
and Justine's death are connected?
I wonder myself.
First, I got a letter from my sister.
A letter brimming with panic.
Then,
we arrive in Madrid
and learn that she's dead.
m*rder*d.
Later, my brother-in-law informs us
that a man has been arrested,
but the evidence is inconclusive.
Afterwards, we learn
that the suspect has k*lled himself.
Because he was guilty?
Or, perhaps, overwhelmed by the stack
of evidence produced against him.
That is, assuming it really was suicide.
And now somebody tries to k*ll you.
Why?
Because your curiosity
is dangerous to somebody?
It's possible.
I'm sure we're being watched.
Yes, I know.
Just now, when I went
to fetch you your drink...
Enrique was aware of
where I was going this afternoon.
César, too.
I was aware, too.
Did you send someone to k*ll me?
No.
Although sometimes I feel tempted to.
You still think I don't love you.
I try to believe you.
"He'll never forgive me.
I feel lonely and frightened."
I don't understand how
Justine could write such a letter.
I'm sorry.
I'm disappointed you didn't
show it to me when you arrived.
I couldn't see you that afternoon.
Enrique, I must go.
Why?
I want to visit the place
where my sister was m*rder*d.
And I'd like you to come with me.
By all means.
And I will ask César to join us as well.
- You don't like César, do you?
- No.
Why not?
Something about him portends betrayal.
You're being unfair.
For many years, he has been
a loyal associate of mine.
I trust him completely.
I wonder if Justine also trusted him.
The tone of her letter
made her seem frightened.
Who was she afraid of? You?
I believe we have already clarified that.
She had no reason to be afraid of anyone.
Unfortunately, she can't say so herself.
Good morning.
Good morning, Mr. Del Rio.
I believe you forgot this book
in the library.
I have a copy, too.
- Thank you.
- Do you like Bécquer's Legends?
Yes, very much.
Why?
Any woman would be fascinated
by a writer like Bécquer,
for his passion, imagination,
and dramatic quality.
Besides, don't forget I'm Spanish, too.
I'm not exactly a
great admirer of Bécquer.
For my taste, his prose is too
macabre,
morbid.
But
I presume you must be proud of him.
He was a man of
great sensitivity.
You should discuss this with Enrique.
He's more cultivated than I am.
Furthermore,
I think he can be considered
an authority on this subject matter.
Some of Bécquer's legends are fascinating.
They are enormously alluring.
Please, go on.
There is one that may be
of particular interest to you.
It dates back to the 16th century.
Would you like to hear it?
Absolutely.
A nobleman from Sorta invited
a number of friends to a hunting party
to celebrate that his niece,
who lived in France, had returned home.
Her name was Beatriz.
Halt!
We can't ride this way.
Make ready to head back.
Why so soon?
We're close to the Mount of Souls.
Today is All Hallows' Day.
The bells will toll to
summon the Knights Templar
to rise from their graves.
- What are you afraid of?
No, I'm not afraid.
I'm just cautious, Beatriz.
Let's go!
For the young Iñigo de Amide,
it was love at first sight.
Even though she was his cousin,
they had just met for the first time.
Come in.
Iñigo?
My mother gave this to me.
She wanted me to keep it
until I found a woman
I loved more than her.
It's for you, Beatriz.
It belongs to you.
I'd like to have a
personal item of yours.
A memento.
It is too soon to speak of love.
But time has no bearing on love.
How can I prove my feelings to you?
Do you remember that
kerchief I wore during the hunt?
I lost it.
Where?
Perhaps at the hill where
you gave the order to turn back.
If you truly love me,
give me proof of your courage.
Go back to that place
and find it.
Unless you're scared.
I'll go.
In the meantime, keep it until I return.
Iñigo!
And what happened to Beatriz?
According to legend,
she was found at the foot of the Devil's
Cross, her body gruesomely mutilated.
Could it be assumed that her conscience
compelled her to follow
the man she had sent to his death?
Your conclusions are rather romantic,
if I may say so.
I keep forgetting you're
a journalist, Mr. Dawson.
Let me ask you a question.
Are you here to shed some
light on your sister's m*rder
or to exploit her death to write
an engaging story for your journal?
Right now, I'm trying not to forget
that I'm a guest in this house.
Indeed.
What was the ring like?
Diamonds and one ruby.
I think we should all retire now.
I've requested that the
coach be ready at six o'clock.
I've made up my mind.
About what?
Open it.
Diamonds and one ruby.
I give this to the woman I love,
the one I would like to marry.
Where did you get it?
I didn't get it from my mother,
if that's what concerns you.
Won't you accept it?
No, my love. No.
Why not?
This ring seems to be identical
to the one described by
your brother-in-law.
Alfred.
Yes, Maria?
I believe there are forces
beyond our understanding.
Beyond our beliefs.
Occult and ominous powers that haunt us.
But what does the ring
have to do with all that?
I'm sorry, Alfred.
We should never have embarked
on this journey.
Legend has crept into our lives.
Come on!
Giddy up!
Whoa!
- Good evening, sir.
- Hello, Ignacio.
- We need four bedrooms for tonight.
- Please follow me.
Apologies for being unable
to serve you as you deserve.
Hunting season is over.
Please excuse my poor hospitality.
Show us to our rooms, Ignacio.
We've had a long trip.
- We just wish to rest and wash up.
- This way, sir.
Thank you.
Fetch us something to eat.
You'll be very comfortable.
Thank you.
Did you enjoy your dinner?
It was all superb, Ignacio.
As always.
The tender lamb,
it was perfectly cooked.
Glad to hear it. Thank you.
If you need anything,
let the girl know.
She'll take care of everything.
It's a souvenir from
my time in the Navy.
A Portuguese artist did it.
Brilliant, isn't it?
Yes, indeed.
But tattoos cannot be removed easily.
Right?
They make you
easily identified
both in life and in death.
Only a criminal
would need to worry about that.
Certainly.
Gentlemen, I am weary.
I hope you'll excuse me.
Thank you.
Well, my friend,
we are now close to our destination.
No, thank you.
What do you plan to
do when we get there,
walk around with a microscope,
searching for clues?
Or...
Do you believe your sister's m*rder*r
will be waiting peacefully for you?
It's possible.
You know that murderers often return
to the scene of their crime.
Do they?
It also occurs to me
that I might be walking
into a trap,
because the man I'm looking for
may have been warned.
If this were the case, Enrique
and you would be equally in danger.
If you so desire, you may head back.
And what would you have Maria do?
Should you go back,
I beg you to take her with you.
No.
César,
you are free of any commitment.
When you wish it, go back to Madrid.
I will always go where you go, Enrique.
Very well. It's settled.
Good night, gentlemen.
Why are you so keen
to continue the journey?
You won't fool Enrique
into thinking I'm a coward.
Why would I need to fool him?
You don't know Enrique very well,
do you?
He is quite good at
understanding people.
He knows he has a
faithful associate in me,
in the same way
he knew what he could expect
from his wife.
Speak plainly, please.
To put it delicately,
he knew that Justine's behavior
was not exactly above reproach.
But he'd rather turn a blind eye.
She was a young woman
who was married to a much older man.
Enrique adored her,
until he finally realized
that she behaved
like a floozy.
If you can think of any other remarks
about Justine's morality,
you'd better speak up now.
Hold on!
Do you know Mr. Del Rio?
Yes.
He comes along with Mr. Enrique Carrillo
in the hunting season.
What about Mr. Carrillo's wife?
Yes.
Well...
Yes, I knew her.
Did you know she was m*rder*d?
Yes.
Who do you think could have done it?
Well...
I don't know.
Wait.
Don't be afraid.
Do you like it?
It's beautiful.
It will be yours.
But first, you're going to tell me
everything you know
about the death of Carrillo's wife.
No.
Don't ask me anything.
I know nothing.
I beg you, sir. Let me go.
Inés!
You should be in bed by now.
Forgive me, sir, but she has
to be up very early tomorrow.
Good night, sir.
I'm sorry.
Perhaps I shouldn't have asked you
So many questions.
No.
I want to help you.
I'll tell you everything | know,
but not here, please.
Come to my bedroom in half an hour.
It's at the end of the hallway,
next to the kitchen.
We had a deal.
I'll tell you everything I know.
People say that the cross beside the mount
was made from the Devil's armor.
The legend doesn't interest me.
Tell me everything you know
about the death of Carrillo's wife.
I saw...
I saw her being m*rder*d.
What?
I was supposed to meet a friend
not far from the Cross.
But he didn't show up, even though
I waited for a long time.
A very remote place for a date,
don't you think?
It was my day off and I left early.
A farmer took me almost all the way there.
I didn't want to be seen.
Go on.
I saw Mr. Carrillo's wife
walking over to the Cross.
Then, a man on horseback
came out of nowhere.
She tried to flee,
but he chased her.
He was calling her by her name:
Justine.
Did you recognize his voice?
No.
What happened next?
She was running in despair
until he overtook her.
Then he jumped off his horse.
After that,
I couldn't see anything else clearly.
The lady must have collapsed.
- What about the man?
He mounted his horse and escaped.
If you saw him again,
would you recognize him?
No. I've told you, it was too dark.
He didn't see you?
- No.
- And what did you do then?
I ran away to get to safety.
Why didn't you tell all this
to the police?
I was afraid.
You chose such an odd place
to meet your friend.
We arranged to meet there
because it is a secluded place.
Nobody would see us.
Don't you believe me?
Yes, I do.
That's why you're going to help me.
I want you to show me
the way to the Devil's Cross.
When?
Tonight.
Right now.
No, please.
I beg you.
Fear not. I'll protect you.
Can you ride a horse?
Ignacio will hear us
taking the horses out.
No, I doubt it.
By now, he must be sleeping.
It's very far.
I'll wait for you in the courtyard.
Take it. It's yours.
Justine!
What happened?
What's wrong?
For the love of God,
let's leave this place.
- Sorry to wake you up.
- What is it?
I've just come from the Devil's Cross.
I've seen Justine.
Please, Alfred.
Justine is dead.
Yes.
I witnessed her m*rder myself.
There was a man.
A Knight Templar.
He k*lled her.
Or was it maybe a
hallucination induced by kief?
Could be.
No, not the kief.
No, it's impossible.
But how could we explain it, Maria?
Perhaps Justine's spirit is on that land
and she has reproduced her m*rder
before your eyes to warn you.
Warn me?
Not to go near the Mount of Souls.
How do you like that?
I have to do all the hard work,
and meanwhile that c**t stays in bed.
I'd like to drag her out
and beat her with a stick.
- Why don't you do it, then?
- Why don't I do it?
Listen, I'll explain.
Servants are now in charge.
Now, they're the ones who decide
what needs to be done.
If you beat them up, they'll go away.
That simple.
It's a disgrace.
Breakfast is almost ready.
If you're finished,
go ahead and hitch up the horses.
- We want to leave early.
- Yes, sir.
The coachman says the road to
the Mount is in poor condition.
You'll have to go around the other side.
That means we'll arrive at night.
- Good morning.
- That's right.
Good morning, Alfred.
Ignacio, please, let the lady know
that breakfast is ready.
With pleasure.
Come in.
- Morning. The gentlemen are awaiting you.
- Thank you.
Inés!
I believe one of those legends
is about the Devil's Cross.
Are you familiar with it, Mr. Del Río?
Surely, Enrique will tell
it better than me.
But you know the tale, too, César.
You tell it.
Very well.
It is said that, in ancient times,
there lived a warrior
who robbed, tortured,
and m*rder*d the villagers of this place.
No one ever saw his face.
He was finally caught.
But when the peasants,
after great efforts,
managed to remove his armor,
there was nothing inside it.
How is that even possible?
According to legend,
that evil warrior was the Devil himself.
Please go on.
They used his armor to make a cross.
And it is also said that, when
the blacksmith began to forge that cross,
the steel of the armor
moaned and screamed
in a horrific way,
as if it were
alive.
Whoa!
Are you all right?
- What happened?
- The wheel axle has snapped.
What can we do?
Nothing. It's cracked in two places.
What, then?
You'll have to get a new coach in Sorta.
Maria!
- What's wrong?
- My ankle!
You're lucky to be wearing boots.
It is a wolf trap.
My God!
You must take her back.
Try not to rest your foot on the ground.
I beg you not to go any further.
I'm sorry, but I can't back out now.
I have a feeling
I will never see you again.
Nonsense. [I see you tomorrow.
Expect me.
Take her to the best
physician you can find.
Will you make it back with a new coach?
Not until tomorrow.
Fine.
Goodbye, Alfred.
Not goodbye.
See you soon.
There's nothing to worry about.
I'm a good marksman.
I'm sure you are,
but I'd rather you didn't
use me as a target.
Forgive me.
All right, gentlemen,
I suppose we'll have to wait.
I can see a light near here.
A house?
It might be a house. Look at it.
I think we should ask
for shelter for a few hours.
What about the coachman?
- I don't think we will see him again.
- Why not?
This region is full of
superstitions and fairy tales,
legends that wouldn't thrill
any local coachman.
Don't you believe in legends?
They are the product of the
villagers' vivid imagination.
And yet you find them appealing.
I'm attracted
to mythology and literature.
Is that why you're here?
Not really.
Why, then?
I might have
a morbid interest in your obsession.
My obsession, you say?
Your insistence on looking
for the answer to Justine's m*rder.
One thing is clear.
The man who was arrested hanged himself.
And that proves his guilt.
Fear can affect the mind
to the point of making it sick.
Justine was m*rder*d
at the Devil's Cross.
You still think
that the Mount of Souls
was the cause of her death.
I wonder why.
- I can't explain it...
- Are you taking...?
Are you taking any drugs, Mr. Dawson?
I sometimes smoke kief,
if you can call that taking drugs.
Why do you ask?
Well, gentlemen,
I suggest we get going.
Gentlemen.
Sorry to bother you.
We've suffered an accident on the road.
The axle of our coach broke.
Could you please
shelter us for a few hours?
We would be infinitely grateful.
Please follow me.
Welcome to my house.
My name is Iñigo de Ataíde.
I'm César Del Rio.
Enrique Carrillo.
Thank you. You are very kind.
He is Alfred Dawson.
Nice to meet you.
In a sense, you could say
we were expecting you.
Loneliness is the companion of nostalgia.
One waits, while months and years
seem to turn into centuries.
But one day, someone suddenly
shows up at your doorstep,
just like you right now.
It feels as if one had always known
that this was bound to happen.
Gentlemen,
you may rest in the guest rooms.
I will have dinner in an hour.
I hope you will grant me
the honor of your company.
Alfred.
Alfred.
Alfred.
Iñigo!
No!
We were expecting you.
In the dining room.
I dozed off.
Mr. Dawson,
allow me to introduce my cousin, Beatriz.
Take a seat, Mr. Dawson.
Your friends have informed me
that you wish to visit
the ruins of the old monastery
on the mountain.
I want to visit the Mount of Souls.
I don't mean to meddle in your affairs,
but I guess you must have
very good reasons to visit that place.
A very compelling reason.
It must be very powerful,
to make you risk your life.
Why would my life be in any danger?
What is the purpose of your trip,
Mr. Dawson?
I am looking for the truth.
That isn't a very clear answer
to my question.
But I will answer yours.
Tomorrow is All Hallows' Day,
and, as legend has it, at midnight,
the Templars will rise from their tombs.
Those who cross the boundaries
of their territory on such a night
are never seen again
and no one has ever
heard from them again.
What is that area exactly?
The Devil's Cross, for instance?
Yes, for instance.
I hope you'll pardon me, Mr. Dawson,
if I explain that you
have suffered a family loss,
a loss you share with Mr. Carrillo.
When he says that the purpose
of his journey is to seek the truth,
that's because
the Mount of Souls
attracts him like a magnet.
And nothing and no one can deter him
from continuing this journey.
I see.
It's late, gentlemen.
With your leave, I'm going to retire.
Surely, you will be leaving
early in the morning.
In case I don't see you again,
I'd like to wish you a safe journey.
Good night, gentlemen.
Such an odd situation.
That's right.
There are no servants,
at least we haven't seen any, and yet,
everything looks spotless.
What do you reckon, Enrique?
I don't know.
After a day like this,
I'm too tired to think about it.
I've been waiting for you.
I heard your call.
I always knew that someday you'd come.
Is this a dream?
No, Alfred.
This is not a dream.
Why did you send Iñigo to his death?
It might have been a diabolical urge
that drove me to test his courage.
And yet, you tried to save him.
It was too late.
And I had to bear my punishment.
I am now doomed to be chased
by the Knights Templar forever.
But is he with you?
Iñigo died.
But he relinquished his rest
until someone sets me free.
I will set you free.
In the chapel of the old monastery,
you will find a sword.
No one has survived
after setting eyes upon it.
With it, you will be able to destroy them.
That's my only hope for salvation.
The price for my freedom
could very well be your life.
You said the sword would help me?
Against the Knights Templar.
When you reach the ruins of the monastery,
you will find out
who m*rder*d Justine and why.
Please, hold on.
I need to get some rest.
How far is the monastery?
We are still a long way off.
In four hours, it will be midnight.
Do you still want to go on?
Absolutely.
Very well, Mr. Dawson.
We have now reached
the summit of the Mount of Souls.
Are you still hoping to find
an explanation for your sister's death?
Do you expect the Knights Templar
to rise from their graves
to reveal the truth to you?
Don't move, Mr. Dawson.
I'd rather not have to use it.
They'll know how to do it better than me.
They?
Yes, Enrique.
The Knights Templar.
I cannot deny them this pleasure.
A pleasure
they eagerly anticipate.
Where are your friends?
In Hell.
They are in Hell!
- What are you talking about?
- You have very little time left.
But first, you might like to know
why Justine had to die.
Number 13?
Yes, Alfred.
Thirteen.
Who are you, César?
Tell me who you are!
You m*rder*d her.
Yes.
I k*lled her.
The baby she was expecting was mine.
I brought her to this place
to introduce her to my people,
the people you are
about to meet right now.
I wanted her to witness our greatness.
Our power.
She wanted to come with me.
But, upon arriving at this place,
she prayed to her God.
It was then that I realized
that she had to die.
They're coming for you, Alfred.
Now they're coming for you!
Alfred! Alfred!
Alfred.
Alfred.
It's as if we are
the only ones left alive in the world.
The Knights Templar are gone, Alfred.
Now, I'm free.
And what will you do?
I will wait for you.
Our love has reached across
the divide between life and death,
between the past and the present.
Farewell, Alfred.
Beatriz?
Halt.
Are you Alfred Dawson?
Yes, that's me.
You're under arrest.
- Arrest?
- That's what I said.
- What am I accused of?
- m*rder.
Move!
It was him!
Damn m*rder*r!
- I don't understand.
- You don't?
You'll get there.
You m*rder*d Inés, didn't you?
I can prove it!
See this?
You bought her with this.
This trinket in exchange for her body.
And she let herself be seduced,
the poor fool.
But then she failed to indulge
your lust so you k*lled her.
I can explain what happened.
Can you also explain
the deaths of your friends?
My friends?
Can you explain
why you're smeared with blood?
Let's go.
The innkeeper claims
there was another man,
that he saw his body.
In here.
But now...
Did you k*ll him and
get rid of the body,
or did you k*ll him far from the inn?
He m*rder*d Mr. Del Rio,
just as he did the rest.
Do you have anything to say?
- I'm not a m*rder*r.
- You are!
He's lying.
- I can explain.
- You'll explain yourself in court. Go.
Hey, Mr. Dawson!
I hope you rot in hell!
Dear Maria,
I know you will be
back in London by now.
I also know
that you have tried to visit me
multiple times
but you were not allowed to.
This means that I will never have
the comfort of seeing you again,
because by the time you get this letter,
my death sentence
will have already been ex*cuted.
I swear to you I cannot say
whether I am innocent or not.
In my mind, there is only confusion.
I don't know what I can ascribe it to.
Drugs,
my imagination perhaps...
But I have finally been able
to write a story.
My best story.
The authorities have allowed me
to send it to you,
and you should receive it
within a few days.
Please,
make sure it is published.
And don't weep for me.
Like most writers,
I want to believe
that I'm leaving a mark for posterity.
I'm only comforted by the thought
that the Devil's Cross
and the Mount of Souls
are now free of the Knights Templar,
if they ever did indeed exist,
and that those places
are now quiet and at peace.
God bless you, Maria.
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