The Chronicles of the Immortal Council: The complete 10-book collection

by D C Young

  Marie turned to take one more glimpse at the surrounding splendor before stepping through the wide, arched doorway and into the great hall of the chateau. Before she had a chance to turn back, she was greeted by a high pitched squeal.

  “Hello, Mother!”

  “Mary?” She moved toward her daughter in a baffled state of mind “Aren't you in Francis in...”

  Mary cut her off before she could finish the question.

  “No, we're here. We are going to spend the summer with you; a part of it at least.”

  “Is this another of your uncle's cruel jokes?” Marie scowled in the direction of her brother who was rapt with laughter and shaking his head.

  It seemed the entire family had been able to keep the secret from her and were enjoying a great moment of victory, but the victory was hers. Away from the Scottish and French courts, she would finally be able to spend the kind of time she had dreamt of spending with her daughter. She could share her memories of the place, come to know her daughter better and maybe even have the opportunity to become better acquainted with the teen-aged boy to whom her daughter was married. Tears fill her eyes.

  “Had I gone to sleep with the sweetest dream in my mind it would have hardly rivaled this,” she smiled, wrapping her arms around her Mary and holding her close.

  Chapter Six

  The séance was a bust.

  Even when Allison joined her powers to the circle and sent out her psychic tendrils all she could reach was darkness and dead air.

  Sam tired as well from her seat against the wall. There were many ghosts gathered in the hallway outside the parlor, she could sense their desire to get into the room and be recognized but the energy emanating from the witches' circle kept them at bay. Sam scanned the crowd of spirits for any that may have been old enough to offer some insight but none came forward.

  After two hours of pure concentration the witches were collapsing from exhaustion and Elisabeth called the séance to a close.

  “We shall rest, regroup and try again tomorrow night. Let us meet at 11pm and take full advantage of the witching hour. If this proves as difficult as I am beginning to think we may need to look at darker means to get the job done.”

  No one in their company needed an explanation of what she meant.

  They all murmured their agreement, gathered their things, put the room back in order and left the chateau. As Sam passed down the hallway, several spirits reached out to her and Allison. They both kept their heads straight and followed the witches out of the building.

  On the long drive back to Pairs, the four were relatively silent. The unsuccessful nature of the night's events was hard for any of them to accept. Somewhere between Orleans and Versailles, Allison's curiosity finally overcame her.

  “Who were those witches?”

  Elisabeth responded knowing the question had been directed at her. “They are the Sorginak.”

  “The Basque witches of Zugarramurdi?”

  “The very ones.”

  Sam gave Allison a questioning look. “The Sorgi-who or Zuga-what?”

  “The Sorginak of Zugarramurdi,” Allison repeated patiently. Then she turned to Elisabeth and continued, “I thought they were extinct. Weren't they wiped out by the Spanish Inquisition?”

  “Those witches are the descendants of the original Navarre Sorginak. It's a common misconception that they were eradicated during the Basque witch trials but that is untrue. Personally, I believe that they purposely helped in propagating that idea to protect their anonymity. The truth is that the junior Inquisition judge, a man called Alonso Frias, questioned the validity of the accusations being brought against the people of Logrono. His fellow judges accused him of being 'in league with the Devil; but luckily, the Inquisitor-General appeared to share his view because in August 1614, he ruled that all of the trials pending at Logrono should be dismissed.”

  “Wow,” Allison exclaimed. “Just goes to show you that the truth you learn are the stories previously decided to be truth.”

  The hotel was quiet by the time they returned. Without much to discuss, the two women went to their respective rooms and tried to get as much rest as they could

  Allison wanted to get a little sightseeing done before they would have to get ready to go back to Chambord in the night. Sam had no objections but opted to stay put and join her for lunch on the Champs Élysées around noon.

  After Allison set out for the morning, Sam received a call from the front desk saying she had a delivered; and express overnight package to be exact.

  It was from Elysium House.

  She tore into the small envelope hoping Marie would have some solid leads to offer the investigation but all that rolled out onto her palm was an old silver teston and a folded handkerchief. Sam shook the envelope again and a piece of paper revealed itself. She placed the cloth and coin on the lobby front desk and unfolded the letter.

  My dear detective Moon,

  A long time ago I changed the course of history by choosing to marry King James V of Scotland. It was a difficult, yet pivotal decision and I deliberated over it for a long time.

  My closest friend, Princess Margaret, knew what was in my heart and chose an unconventional way of helping me come to a conclusion.

  She flipped a coin calling one side for Henry VIII and the other for James. This coin I have sent you is the very coin Antoinette brought to me for the job; I kept it as a personal talisman ever since that day.

  My dear Antoinette placed the coin wrapped in her very own handkerchief into y hand as they took me out of my bedchamber to the embalmer, wrapped in the bed sheets.

  When Louis and his cohorts replaced my body with the false one, I was still clutching these things.

  I hope they will give you and Bathory's some aid in locating my lost confidant. I miss her dearly and the sadness that comes with the thought that she has been lost and suffering for so very long, pains my heart deeply.

  Find her, Sam.

  We are her only hope.

  Marie

  At 9pm, Sam and Allison left the Hotel de Crillon and took a taxi across town. She asked the driver to take them to the Relais de Chambord hotel across the street from the palace so they wouldn't arouse any suspicion. Every restaurant and cafe in the vicinity had closed up around 9pm so one might wonder where the two American tourists would have been headed at that time of night.

  They arrived at the castle just in time to meet Kullervo and Elisabeth by the main gate. A pale, silent man let them in without question and pointed to the servant’s entry door. Upstairs in the parlor, the witches of Zugarramurdi were already assembled.

  Kullervo, Sam and Allison took the same seats they had the night before and left the talking to Elisabeth. The conversation between the two parties went exactly as it did the night before.

  “Sorginak witches, descendants of Michel de Nostredame, soul searchers of Navarre,” she began, “we have come to you in your place of sorcery to ask your assistance in locating Antoinette de Nemours.

  “She was a favorite of Mare de Guise and Catherine de Medici and she has been violated and held against her will for many centuries. We can no longer free her soul but we would endeavor to free her immortal body and return her to those that have loved her the most in her lifetime.”

  There was dead silence from the witches for many nerve-wracking moments until the woman who seemed to be their coven leader replied, “We will help.”

  Bathory took the coin and handkerchief from Sam and stepped to the center of the circle.

  Immediately the spell casting began.

  They were about to give up on the possibility of an outcome on the light side of midnight when suddenly the room seemed to vibrate a little. Sam and Allison felt it and sat bolt upright.

  The spirits that had once again gathered in the hallway outside the door fled in an instant as a soft voice became audible.

  There was soft weeping interspersed with old French. She asked question after question in rapid succession, not wa
iting for an answer as if she didn't expect one.

  “Who is there?” the voice asked.

  “I can hear you but I cannot see you.” It continued.

  “I am cold, tired. I'm hungry, they keep us very hungry and weak.”

  “I am lost. I've been lost for many years. Where am I? Is this purgatory? Who are you?”

  Suddenly one of the witches replied, “Hush child. This is not purgatory, it is prison. Who are you?”

  “My name is Antoinette de Nemours. There are more here with me.”

  “Where are you, child? There are friends of yours who have been searching for you for a long time.”

  “I am in the ground. It is dark and cold. The dark ones feed on us and keep us weak.”

  “Where, child?”

  Before the weak disembodied voice could respond, Allison stood up and walked to the center of the circle and knelt. She touched the edge of the linen handkerchief and said, “Show me.”

  In an instant, Allison's closed eyes shot open. She grabbed a piece of discarded chalk and started to draw a scrawled image on the floor in front of her. As the drawing grew in intensity, so did the vibration in the room. Suddenly, there was a bright flash of light and the contact was broken. Allison fell over onto the ground.

  Chapter Seven

  “You do understand that what we are doing could have scandalous consequences for the both of us as well as the kingdoms of Scotland and France,” Charles said. The grave expression on his face was covered by the shadows on the night, but his tone was that of someone who was being led to the gallows.

  “You are taking a much greater risk than I,” Marie responded, matching his tone. “Perhaps we should call the entire thing off.”

  “Were they to take my head off tomorrow,” Charles replied. “I would not deprive you of this night.”

  Marie had encountered Charles while exploring in the Alps outside the Guise family chateau. Charles was of the house of Anjou, though a younger child and with little to no wealth or title. What he lacked in those areas, he made up for in wit, charm and intellect. He quickly made inroads into the heart of the Queen Regent by use of them. Though there was such a broad gap between the status and ages of the two, Charles had rekindled something within Marie which had been quite absent for more than a decade.

  Initially, Marie had believed that his attraction was nothing more than the euphoria produced by the majestic splendor of mountain peaks and cool, fresh air, but she soon came to understand that it was something much more; something vacant inside of her. Quite against the normal rules of royal society, she allowed Charles to be a companion to her as she, her family and her entourage continued to travel across France for more than a year following the wedding of Mary and Francis. Whenever the two were allowed to be alone and out of earshot of those attending to the Queen Regent, Marie expressed a desire to be free of the burden of rule for just one night before she returned to Scotland. Charles had made arrangements for that to happen, knowing as he did so, that it might cost him his life. With the help of Margaret and Antoinette, of course, Marie was able to make her escape from the constant supervision that was over her at all times. It was risky, but that was also part of the thrill of it all.

  Marie was overwhelmed by Margaret's efforts. Her dear friend had only days before secured her betrothal to Emmanuel, Duke of Savoy, when King Henry had finalized negotiations and signed their marriage contract. She stood a lot to lose should their escapade be discovered.

  “I will be waiting for you along the shore near Chateau de Malmaison,” Margaret told her as Charles helped Marie into the boat that was docked on the shore of the River Seine near the house which had become a part of Margaret's title in the southeastern part of Paris.

  “I can't believe that I'm doing this,” Marie giggled as she parted from Margaret and took her seat in the boat.

  “It was something we both swore we would do one day,” Margaret reminded her. “I've already done it. Now it is your turn.”

  “This is not exactly what the Queen Regent of Scotland ought to be doing,” Marie protested. For a moment, she considered rising up out of the boat, retreating back to the shore and accompanying Margaret had set up.

  “There is no backing out now, Your Majesty,” Margaret laughed as she cast off the line to Charles who had taken up his position at the helm.

  “Margaret!” Marie protested but she did not move from her seat.

  “Relax,” Margaret called after the boat as it was pushed out into the channel. “You're going to love it.”

  The lapping of the water of the river against the side of the boat were the only steady sounds Marie could hear as she and Charles began to drift along down the river in relative darkness. At first, her nerves had a tight grip upon her as she listened to the steady sound and felt the gentle rocking of the boat. Whenever a different sound would carry across the water, her heart would leap and she would grip the sides of the boat, expecting some attack to surge toward her out of the dark. Relaxing, as Margaret had suggested, was impossible.

  Though there was an extraordinary blanket of glistening stars above her which cast shimmering reflection on the river, she was unable to enjoy them as she held her grip. I'm a queen or the sake of God, what am I doing here? She asked herself the question numerous times as the journey began.

  How are you fairing?” Charles asked after some moments.

  The sound of his voice made her heart skip a few beats before she was able to respond.

  “I fear that I have made a very poor choice,” Marie declared. “Perhaps we should turn back.”

  “Turning back would be far worse than pressing forward,” Charles responded. “Besides being nearly impossible to return upstream, there would be no one to there to meet us and we would be entirely on our own on the dark streets.”

  “It is a foolish thing we have undertaken,” Marie protested. She recognized that what Charles said was true and they would have to carry through with what they had begun. Why had she desired to do something so foolish?

  “Might I remind you that your desire was to be free from rule for a night?” Charles had a way of answering her thought which she found both aggravating and refreshing at the same time. It was one of the qualities that had drawn her to him. In fact, the connection he seemed to have with her was not unlike the one she had enjoyed with Louis primarily, but to a certain extent, James as well.

  She felt a shiver run through her and wasn't sure if it was the cool air of the summer night or the ghost of one of her husbands.

  “I've a blanket here, if you would like to join me,” Charles announced.

  Marie reminded herself that she had agreed to this adventure in order to have some time alone with Charles. She moved cautiously from her seat as he held her hand and guided her to him. She took a seat beside him and allowed him to secure the blanket around the shoulders of the two of them. “It will get better soon. Look, you can already see the light growing brighter,” Charles pointed out.

  Charles was correct. The soft glow of Paris which had lingered even as they mounted the boat had been growing steadily with intensity as they drifted further down the river. As they glow intensified, her apprehension began to diminish, not to mention the warmth of the man beside her, something she had lacked feeling for what seemed like an eternity.

  The shadows along the banks of the river began to transform into beautiful structures of centuries past as they drifted deeper into the city. The lanterns along the banks cast light upon gardens and statues along the way even as it cast a glow at the base of the great houses and cathedrals along the way.

  The lights from the stars the lanterns and the windows of the houses reflected off of the waters and danced as waves were stirred up by the small boats. Marie was in a trance. The warmth of the man beside her pointing to various sites along the way, his voice speaking softly in her ear as they moved along, the risk of being seen and recognized and the air of romance combined to make her truly forget the weight of the mantel
of leadership which had held her down for two decades.

  “Is it all you had hoped it would be,” Charles whispered.

  “And more,” she replied. “Margaret and I had always wanted to do such as this, but it would not have been nearly as spectacular 20 years ago. You have enjoyed this before?”

  “Only once,” he replied. “Only not with the same amount of risk to add an extra thrill.”

  “Perhaps I could talk them out of doing you harm,” she responded.

  “No doubt your word would be respected until you returned to Scotland,” he chuckled.

  She leaned back into his chest, enjoying the peace of watching Paris pass by above them. There were couples in boats like theirs lost in a romantic daze as well.

  The river wound its way through Paris and she and Charles soaked it all in together, but alas the lights along the way began to be fewer in number and darkness began to settle over them again as Paris began to fade away behind them. It was then that Marie was able to enjoy the glistening diamonds of the sky scattered upon their mantle of black velvet. Their shimmering reflection on the water was as dazzling and she let out a long sigh.

  “A night fit for a queen?” Charles asked.

  “A night fit for anyone,” she answered. “Free, bond, common or royal; all share in the wonder of creation.”

  “Well said.”

  They drifted on the water in silence a moment longer. Though she had spent more than a year apart from her duties in Scotland, the weight of her status had not left her until that night. It reminded her of those simpler days when little to nothing was expected of her and she lived a life of luxury and leisure.

  “Oh that I might be free of the weight of this mantle,” she declared in a whisper.

  To his credit, Charles did not respond with words. Instead, quite unexpectedly, he lowered his mouth to hers. There was a moment of shock when his lips were pressed to hers and she gasped.