Buccaneer (Dane Maddock Adventures)

by David Wood

  “Very good. Now, back away from them.”

  They did as they were told, moving to either side of Arthur’s casket.

  “Arthur,” Morgan breathed, her expression enraptured. “After all this time, I shall finally fulfill my destiny.” She looked up at the glowing walls. “And tonight is a full moon. How fitting. It only remains to be decided who will provide the sacrifice.”

  An icy certainty crept over Dane. If Morgan was going to sacrifice someone, it wouldn’t be him. Morgan would delight in his agony as he watched the woman he loved, or his sister, die. He couldn’t let that happen.

  Morgan took two steps closer, then froze. “Where is it?” She hissed. “Mordred will drink your blood for this.”

  Dane just stared at her. What was she talking about?

  “Where?” she shrieked. “Where is Rhongomnyiad?”

  “It’s right here, you crazy witch.” Bones stepped out of a side passage and hurled Rhongomnyiad at Morgan. She dived out of the way and the spear embedded in the far wall in a flash of blue light. The crystals all around the cavern shone white hot and showered the chamber with sparks.

  Dane made a move for his Walther, but Mordred was almost upon him. He sprang back, unsheathing Excalibur. He hit the pommel and its blade burned.

  “Get out here!” He called over his shoulder to Angel and Avery, who turned and ran. He only had a moment to register that people were pouring like angry bees from a hive out of the warren of passageways and into the chamber. He heard someone bark orders in German, and he caught a glimpse of Tam and Willis enter the room, guns blazing, and then Mordred was on him.

  He thrust the glowing sword at the oncoming dragon, but it sprang back with incredible agility. Dane drew back, and the creature stalked him. The chaos all around him seemed to fall away, like turning down a television set. It was him and the dragon. And then it struck him that, as a child, he’d often pretended he was a knight doing battle with a dragon. He almost laughed.

  Mordred sprang forward again and he thrust. The blade opened a smoking gash in the dragon’s hide, but it kept coming. Dane continued to backpedal around the crystal casket, keeping the dragon at bay, but not dealing it enough damage to incapacitate it.

  The dragon charged again, and he took a mighty swing, hoping to split its head in two, but Mordred sprang to the side and Excalibur sheared off a chunk of its frill. The creature hissed and slashed at Dane’s leg with its razor sharp claws. Dane wasn’t quick enough, and the dragon opened a gash in his leg. Dane stumbled, and Mordred lashed out with his powerful tail. Dane leaped just high enough to avoid a broken leg, but the strike knocked him off his feet.

  Mordred tensed to strike, but a torrent of bullets stopped him in his tracks. Avery had circled around and retrieved both her pistol and Dane’s. Most of her shots missed, but enough struck home to put the dragon on the defensive.

  As she emptied the magazines and her weapons fell silent, Dane regained his feet, raised Excalibur, and brought it down with all his might, cleaving the dragon’s head from its body. Still snapping, the head rolled off the platform and down into the pit.

  Dane leapt back from the dragon’s tail that, even in death, lashed about with deadly force, and ran back across the footbridge onto solid ground.

  “Avery, you’ve got to get away,” he ordered, and pushed her toward the nearest tunnel. He looked up just in time to see Locke standing before him, clutching Rhongomnyiad..

  “Say good night, Maddock.” Locke thrust the spear at him and Dane parried, sending up a shower of sparks, and struck back. Locke blocked his stroke, and the blades flashed as they met.

  They circled one another, locked in a dance of death. Dane’s injured leg slowed his movement, and he found himself increasingly on the defensive. Each of Locke’s slashes and thrusts came ever closer to striking home. Step by step, he drove Dane out onto the foot bridge, forcing Dane to give way until Locke had him backed up to Arthur’s casket.

  Dane glanced behind him and saw his chance. As he fended off another vicious slash, he pretended that his injured leg had given way, and reeled backward. As a gleeful Locke leapt in for the kill, Dane threw himself over Mordred’s still-thrashing body.

  Locke, whose attention had been focused entirely on Dane, sprang right into the path of the dragon’s powerful tail, which struck him square in the side of the knee. Locke went down, screaming agony. The tail caught him again, this time in the side of the head, and Rhongomnyiad fell from his limp fingers and rolled to the edge of the platform.

  Dane dashed around the far side of the casket and scooped it up before it could go over the edge. He stood over Locke, who looked up at him with bleary, hate-filled eyes.

  “I know how you think, Maddock. You won’t kill an unarmed man. You’re too noble for that.”

  “Maybe.” Dane reversed Rhongomnyiad and held the tip just above Locke’s heart. “But I’ll kill any man who lays a hand on my girlfriend.” Fear flashed through Locke’s eyes in the moment before Dane drove the spear home. Blue light danced across Locke’s body and smoke poured from his mouth, nose and ears. Dane grimaced as the sickly sweet odor of burnt flesh filled his nostrils. He watched as Locke’s body burned down to a blackened husk and crumbled to dust.

  And then a voice sounded above the din, cold and clear.

  “Drop the spear or the girl dies!”

  Chapter 37

  Dane heard Morgan clearly over the waning sounds of the battle. It sounded to him as if a lot of people had run out of ammunition, been killed, or both. He wanted to look around for Angel and his friends, but he could not tear his gaze away from Morgan who held a pistol trained on Avery. Dane’s sister stood with her hands upraised, quaking with terror. Why hadn’t she run?

  The room fell silent. All around them, the fighting stopped. Willis and Tam were on their knees, hands behind their heads, guarded by three white-clad men, as was another man he didn’t recognize. Bones, knife in hand, faced off with another man in white, who aimed a pistol at him, but seemed reluctant to use it. Behind Morgan, Jacob had Angel in a headlock, though she was still fighting to free herself.

  “I will not be denied.” Morgan spoke the words like an oath. “Especially not by you.”

  “That is enough, Sister. It is over.”

  A beautiful woman with red hair and green eyes entered the chamber.

  “What are you talking about, Rhiannon? Have you forgotten who I am?” Morgan quaked with rage, but she held her gun steady.

  “I know exactly who you are, and it is time I put a stop to your plan.” She snapped her fingers and the men who guarded Willis and Bones now trained their weapons on Morgan. “Jacob, stop choking that girl,” she ordered. “And you,” she said to Bones, “may stand down. We mean your people no harm.”

  Dane nodded at at Bones, who reluctantly lowered his knife.

  Morgan’s beautiful face was cold with fury. For a moment, it looked as if she would turn her weapon on Rhiannon, but instead she lowered it a few inches.

  “A wise choice,” Rhiannon said, walking toward Morgan.

  “You mean to take my place.”

  “I mean to stop your foul plan, and to prevent this,” her gesture took in the entire chamber, “from ever being revealed to the world.”

  “Why?”

  “Show him, Adam.” One of Rhiannon’s men pulled down the neck of his shirt, revealing a brand on his chest. A Templar cross!

  “No,” Morgan whispered. “The Templars are dead.”

  “We are very much alive, Sister, and we find your pagan rites foul in the sight of God.”

  “God.” Morgan laughed. “After what we know about these weapons, you still believe in your God?”

  “Perhaps His creation is greater than our imaginations, but He is still the author of it all.”

  Morgan began to laugh. It was a crazed, mad sound that chilled Dane to the bone. But her laughter cut off when her eyes fell on Mordred’s body. The dragon’s death throes had nearly subsided, and he no
w twitched weakly.

  “You killed him!” She cried in a voice that was beyond pain, beyond sanity. “Very well.” Her entire body quaked. “You kill my family, I kill yours.”

  “No!” Jacob dove at Morgan, wrapping her in his bearlike arms and bearing her to the ground just as she pulled the trigger. Morgan cursed and fought him with all her might, struggling to free her gun hand, but Jacob held her down. “Don’t do this,” he pleaded. “I believed in you. Believed in your vision for Britain, but I don’t believe in this.”

  Morgan spat in his face and fought to break free. In the midst of her struggles, Dane heard a loud pop. Morgan gasped, her eyes wide with shock. Jacob took the gun from her limp fingers and rolled off of her, revealing a gaping wound in her side. She raised her trembling, bloody fingers in front of her face.

  “Damn you all,” she gasped.

  Dane barely heard her. He rushed to where Avery lay on the ground, blood seeping between her fingers as she held them pressed to her stomach.

  “We’ve got to get you out of here,” he said. “Somebody give me something I can bandage this with.” His voice rang hollow. She wasn’t going to make it. It was Melissa and Mom and Dad and too many good friends all over again.

  “Shut up, Maddock.” Avery managed a smile. “I hate it when you treat me like a child. Big brothers are all alike.”

  “I don’t want you to die,” he choked.

  Tears spilled down Avery’s cheeks as she reached out and took his hand. Suddenly, Dane was aware of someone shaking him hard. It was Rhiannon.

  “I said, it’s not too late to save her. Give me the dagger.”

  Dumbly, Dane handed Carnwennan to her.

  “Bring me the Grail,” she snapped as she collected Excalibur and Rhongomnyiad.

  Bones and Willis hurried to the casket and raised the crystal lid while Dane reached inside and withdrew the Grail.

  Up close, it looked even more ordinary than it had before. The outside still sparkled in the light, but he noticed the inside was stained a dark reddish brown. He sat the Grail down next to Rhiannon and returned to Avery’s side. She lay with her head in Angel’s lap, looking up at the ceiling.

  “It’s beautiful here,” she whispered. “I think Dad would have liked it.”

  “He would,” Dane said. “Now just hang on a little longer.”

  Rhiannon knelt down beside Morgan, who stared balefully at her.

  “We need a sacrifice, Sister. Will you give it?”

  “No,” Morgan hissed. “Sacrifice her and save me instead.”

  “I will not. I am giving you this chance to make your final act in this world one of redemption. Perhaps you can atone for the evil you have done.”

  “I’ll do it.” Jacob said, dropping to a knee beside Morgan. “For all the wrong I’ve done in her service.”

  Morgan looked at him in bewilderment, and then, to Dane’s utter amazement, began to cry. She took Jacob’s hand and kissed it.

  “No, Jacob,” she whispered, “I will do it if you will hold me up. I want to face death on my feet.”

  Jacob lifted Morgan like a baby and stood her up, wrapping his arms around her to keep her from falling.

  Rhiannon lay the three weapons in a triangular pattern as they had seen on the doorway to this place. They all watched the weapons shone brighter and brighter, each seeming to draw energy from the other. When they shone so brightly that Dane could not stand to look at them, she reached down and picked up the dagger. The glow subsided, but each weapon pulsed with palpable energy.

  “Hold the Grail for me,” she said to Dane. “It must be family.” Dane picked up the stone bowl and, together, they turned to face Morgan.

  “Are you ready?” Rhiannon asked.

  Morgan nodded.

  Rhiannon sliced open the front of Morgan’s shirt, turned the knife flat side up, held it above her heart, and slowly pushed it into her Sister’s body. Morgan gasped as the blade entered her, but she maintained her mask of serenity.

  Rhiannon did not push the knife in deeply, only far enough to draw blood. She waited until the fuller, the groove in the center of the blade, filled with blood, and then she turned and poured it into the Grail. She repeated the process with the spear, and then she hefted Excalibur.

  As she pressed the sword to Morgan’s chest, their eyes met.

  “Goodbye, Sister,” she whispered.

  “May the gods forgive me,” Morgan replied, closing her eyes.

  With a powerful thrust, Rhiannon drove the sword deep into Morgan’s heart. Morgan made not a sound as her lifesblood flowed onto the blade. When Rhiannon withdrew the sword, Jacob laid her gently on the floor.

  When Rhiannon poured this last measure of blood into the Grail, it began to glow. Flecks of light swirled, and the blood inside bubbled and steamed.

  “She must drink it now.”

  Dane knelt in front of Avery and tipped the cup into her mouth. She choked and gagged, but was too weak to resist. In a few moments, she had gulped down the contents of the cup and, with a sigh, fell back onto Angel’s lap.

  She lay there for only a few seconds before her eyes jerked open. Her breath came in gulps and her legs twitched. She clutched her wounded stomach and cried out in pain.

  And then, she was calm.

  She looked up at Dane in disbelief. Rhiannon knelt and raised Avery’s shirt high enough to reveal that the wound was healed.

  “It worked.” Dane shook his head. Another thing he couldn’t believe.

  “Is she, like, immortal?” Bones asked, looking at Avery in wonder.

  “No. All Morgan’s remaining years now belong to her. Morgan was a healthy woman, so she should have a long life ahead of her.”

  Now that he knew Avery was going to be all right, Dane had questions.

  “So, you’re a Templar?”

  “We are what remains of them,” said.

  “Did you know about this place?”

  “We knew of its existence, but its location was lost over three hundred years ago, along with the hiding places of the three weapons.” She sighed. “The knowledge was believed to be lost forever, until 1701, when William Kidd, imprisoned in Newgate for piracy, offered three lost Templar maps in exchange for his freedom.”

  “But how did he get the maps in the first place?” Dane asked.

  “Through one of his acts of piracy. The captain of the ship he took was a Templar. He had recovered the maps and was taking them to England when he was mortally wounded in Kidd’s attack. Kidd promised to deliver them, but he betrayed the captain. He tried to recover what he assumed was a treasure from Oak Island. When he failed, he left a false trail in the form of a stone inscribed with runes. By this time, accusations of piracy were catching up to him, so he tried a new tactic. He hid each map in a sea chest and secured them in various locations for safe keeping until he could see his way free.”

  “But it didn’t happen,” Bones said.

  “No. He attempted to negotiate his release, but no one in authority believed he had anything real to offer, and Kidd refused to provide proof until he was set free. Finally, on the eve of his execution, he made his confession to a priest, though he refused to tell to whom he had entrusted the chests. We began our search immediately, but failed to locate them, and the secret faded into legend.”

  She picked up Excalibur in one hand and Carnwennan in the other.

  “Now we can finally complete our task.” With a look of regret, she stepped to the edge of the pit and tossed them in.

  “Wait! What the hell?” Bones, Avery, and Angel shouted over one another.

  “Why did you do that? Those are irreplaceable treasures. The technology…” By the look on Tam’s face, it was a good thing she no longer had a loaded gun.

  “They’re too powerful,” Dane said. “Imagine if one nation harnessed that technology, or a terrorist group got hold of it.”

  “It is more than that,” Rhiannon said, picking up the spear and the Grail. “People need faith, and these
,” she held them up for emphasis, “have the power to destroy that faith.”

  “Why, because they might be alien artifacts, or leftovers from an undiscovered, advanced civilization?” Bones asked. “Hell, I’ve believed in that stuff for years.”

  “No. It is because of what they are. What they were used for.”

  Understanding began to trickle through Dane.

  “That’s the Holy Lance!” he exclaimed.

  “Precisely. But it never pierced Jesus’ side. And the Grail did not catch his blood. Quite the opposite, actually.”

  “Wait a minute.” Avery, who was now back on her feet, held up her hands as if trying to slow Rhiannon down. “What are you saying?”

  “Just as Morgan’s blood saved you, the blood of another restored Jesus to life after his ordeal on the cross.”

  “Whose?” Avery looked stunned.

  “Who among those closest to him died shortly after the crucifixion?”

  “Judas,” Dane said. “Are you saying he wasn’t a traitor? He didn’t kill himself out of remorse?”

  “The betrayal was planned, as was his sacrifice for his lord.”

  “I don’t buy it,” Willis said in a scornful tone. “That might be the story you all have passed down, but that don’t mean that’s the way it happened.”

  “Perhaps not,” Rhiannon mused, “but, in any case, we cannot risk that story getting out. You can see the damage it could do.”

  One by one, they all nodded, except for Tam, who was doubtless thinking of the uses to which the government could put these items.

  With a sad smile, Rhiannon dropped the Holy Grail and the Holy Lance into the pit. Dane watched them fall, wondering if they’d made a mistake, but knowing deep down they had not.

  “So, what happens now?”

  Rhiannon’s sad expression melted into a look of determination.

  “I am the last remaining Sister, so I shall assume leadership. Morgan’s body will be found on the grounds of Modron, a victim of her misguided attempt to tamper with nature. I shall also put a stop to her plot against the Royal Family.”

  “What about this place?” Avery asked.