The Knights of the Spring Dream

by Tom Hunter

  “Definitely,” Samuel agreed. “So let’s recap what we’ve got so far. St. Augustine died because of the lack of grain, so I guess we can assume that the church he passed away in is most likely to be away from the agricultural areas. I mean, he was well revered in the area, so even with a bad harvest, the local farmers would have made sure to look after such a holy man if they possibly could.”

  “Wait a minute.” Josh cleared some space on the table and opened up a book of maps he’d found of ancient Hippo. “This is a map of the region St. Augustine was known to have lived in. The little crosses denote where churches were sited. So if we’re looking for somewhere that didn’t have access to the little grain that was harvested, we can discount the ones over here and here.”

  Not wanting to mark the book, he used Post-It notes to cover up the sections of the page that weren’t relevant.

  “Okay,” said Samuel. “We can narrow the search down even further, because we need to look at churches that are within easy reach of a harbor.”

  Josh added more bits of paper, until most of the page was covered up.

  “Alright,” beamed Basile. “Now we’re making progress. Although we’ve still got a lot of ground to cover, we have at least managed to narrow it down a little. Any ideas on where we should start looking? I mean, the leader isn’t going to be hanging around anywhere as obvious as a church, are they?”

  The group fell silent, looking at the map for inspiration until Samuel snapped his fingers. “We should focus on the principles of the orders and groups that grew out of St. Augustine’s ideals,” he suggested. “What’s the one thing they have in common?”

  “They all have a tendency to get involved in the care of the poor,” replied Akhenaton. “Rimon likes us to be educated in other organizations that were inspired by our patron saint, and I was struck by how devoted they were to caring for the local townsfolk.”

  “Right,” nodded Samuel. “So if we put everything we’ve deduced together, I don’t think it’s unreasonable to assume that we’re looking for an organization that provides an important service to the public, most likely a charity or nonprofit, in honor of St. Augustine. Which means that the best place for us to start looking is for a hospital or library based somewhere in the region we’ve identified. What do you think?”

  “I think it’s a long shot,” observed Josh. “But short of knocking on every church door in the area and asking if they know about a centuries old secret order of knights, I think it’s the best lead we’re going to get. Even if it means that there’s still a lot of buildings for us to check out.”

  “Not necessarily,” put in Waleed. “The Order employs defensive technology to further their goals, right? I mean, guns are bad, but machines that can heal bullet wounds are good, so why not look for a free clinic that boasts exceptional technological upgrades?”

  “That,” smiled Samuel, “is a brilliant idea.”

  He turned and went back to the computer he’d been using to research St. Augustine. Firing up a search engine, it wasn’t long before he hissed an excited “yes!”

  “What is it, Samuel?” asked Shafira.

  “I can’t read the Amazigh, but according to the translation tool, the best place for us to start our search is called the Silver Birch Clinic. I’m on their website now and listen to this: They don’t turn away anyone or ask for any payment, regardless of a patient’s wealth or status.”

  “Which would tie in with St. Augustine’s ideals,” observed Shafira.

  “Right,” nodded Samuel. “It was founded around 200 years ago, and as far as I can tell, it’s completely privately funded and doesn’t receive any governmental support. Despite that, it boasts some of the most cutting edge technology in the country and recently carried out a successful, completely robotic, open heart surgery that would be unthinkable for most free clinics. Even better, it’s right in the heart of our target region.”

  He pushed his chair away from the computer so that the others could see the screen with the map and directions for how to get to the clinic. Sure enough, it was within reach of the ocean, near enough to count as a beach front location.

  “How far away is it from here?” asked Basile, just as the librarian approached their table. Waleed listened as he told him something.

  “What is he saying?” asked Josh when the librarian finished speaking.

  “That it is time for us to go,” Waleed translated. “Apparently they let us have as much time as they could in deference to Samuel’s international reputation.”

  Samuel arched an eyebrow at Waleed’s clear sarcasm, but said nothing

  “He apologizes,” Waleed went on, “but they cannot stay open any longer, given the lateness of the hour.”

  Josh glanced at his watch and did a double take. “Sheesh, guys! It’s coming up to eleven. I don’t think we should be going anywhere tonight other than back to the motel for a good night’s sleep.”

  “You’re right,” agreed Samuel as they started to gather up the books to return them to the shelves. Seeing what they were doing, the librarian rushed forward, shaking his head at them.

  “It’s all right, guys,” Waleed told them. “Our friend here doesn’t really like it when visitors put the books back. He says that they always put them in the wrong place and it makes the books unhappy.”

  “I completely understand.” Samuel pressed his hands together and nodded his head at the librarian in a gesture of thanks. “All right, everyone. Let’s go grab a cab and get some rest. We’ve all earned it.”

  Thirty-Eight

  Outside the motel, Samuel paid their cab driver as the others piled out of the vehicle.

  “At last. I could kill for a hot shower and a good night’s sleep,” Josh grunted, stretching and yawning as he headed off to his room.

  “You and me both, my friend,” agreed Waleed, following close on his heels, as Basile and Akhenaton headed towards their rooms.

  “What about you, Shafira?” asked Samuel, putting his wallet away as the cab roared off into the night. “I bet you’re looking forward to getting some rest after the long day we’ve had.”

  “Actually, I was wondering if you’d mind spending some time with me,” came the surprising reply.

  “What were you thinking? Dinner and a show?” quipped Samuel. “I can’t promise I won’t fall asleep before the interval, but if that’s what you really want, I’ll try and keep my eyes open for you.”

  “No, silly.” Shafira swatted at him. “I wanted to go over our findings today. I feel as though we made some really important discoveries. Although everyone else is great and they’re doing their best, I thought that maybe if the pair of us were able to concentrate without the distraction of Waleed and Akhenaton squabbling and Josh desperately trying to hide his boredom, we might be able to see something we missed earlier.”

  “You could be right,” Samuel agreed. “Your room or mine?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

  Shafira laughed and swatted at him again. “Mine. It’s further away from the others so we’ll have more of a chance of working undisturbed. But don’t get any ideas. This is strictly business.”

  They made their way over to her room. Shafira opened the door, and stopped dead.

  “What the?” she gasped, stifling a scream at the sight of a strange man rifling through her things. Hearing her come in, he stopped what he was doing. Standing up, a wicked grin spread slowly across his face as he saw who was standing in the doorway.

  “You!” Samuel roughly pulled Shafira so that she was behind him, shielding her with his body. “Go get the others and get the hell out of here, Shafira. Gord is one of Pin’s goons who trapped me in the cave. Go to the place we mentioned at the library. I’ll meet you there once I’ve dealt with this asshole.”

  Shafira didn’t need telling twice, running to warn the other men, leaving Samuel to face Gord alone.

  “You should have stayed in the cave,” Gord sniggered, cracking his knuckles. “But no matter. I’ll bur
y you anyway.”

  “Yeah? Go ahead and try.” Samuel put up his fists, adopting the same boxer stance that had served him so well against Akhenaton.

  Gord grinned, slamming one fist into the other as he walked menacingly towards Samuel. Refusing to be intimidated, Samuel darted forward, aiming a jab at his opponent’s nose. Gord moved with surprising speed for his size, ducking out of the way and slamming his fist into Samuel’s stomach as he did so.

  Samuel doubled over, temporarily winded, but as Gord moved to follow up with another blow, he managed to throw himself to the side, clutching his abdomen as he moved to stand behind an armchair to buy a little time.

  “You know, Samuel, I never liked Pin’s way of doing things,” Gord revealed. “All this pretending to be honorable and play acting at keeping his promises. Dead is dead. No-one cares about whether you kept your word when they’re six feet under. If it were down to me, I’d have shot you and your friends in the head the moment you entered the inner sanctum, to be sure that we wouldn’t face this kind of situation. If I had, we wouldn’t need to have this conversation now.” He shrugged. “Not to worry. It means that I get to enjoy killing you myself with my own two hands. And believe me, I will enjoy it.”

  Without warning, he rushed at Samuel, tossing the armchair to one side as if it were weightless. Samuel managed to get a few blows in, but felt as though he were hitting a rock. The bigger man acted like he hadn’t felt a thing.

  Gord grabbed Samuel by the neck, pushing him against the wall and sliding him up so that his feet were almost off the ground.

  “I’ve been wanting to do this from the moment I first met you,” he grinned, squeezing Samuel’s throat. The archaeologist scrabbled at Gord’s hands, trying to break his chokehold, but he was no match for the man’s brute strength.

  He could feel himself losing consciousness and he fought harder to break free, kicking out at Gord, but to no avail.

  Samuel’s eyes fluttered shut.

  “Hey!”

  Gord squeezed even harder at the sound of Josh’s voice coming from the doorway.

  “Later,” he whispered in Samuel’s ear, before releasing him. Samuel slid to the floor, coughing and spluttering, as Gord threw himself through the motel room window to escape, rather than trying to fight the entire group at the door.

  “Samuel!” Shafira rushed to his side.

  “I’m… fine…” he wheezed. He clearly wasn’t.

  “Take care of him,” ordered Akhenaton, nimbly leaping through the window in pursuit of Gord.

  “Waleed, Basile, stay with Shafira and keep everyone safe,” added Josh before hurrying after Akhenaton, awkwardly climbing through the frame, which still bore razor-sharp teeth of glass, to catch up.

  Once on the ground outside the motel, he looked around. Seeing Akhenaton round the corner of the motel building, he raced after him with every ounce of speed he could muster. “Akhenaton!” he called, watching Gord disappear down an alley. “You go that way and we’ll head him off further up the road.”

  Akhenaton waved to show that he’d got the message, veering off in the direction Josh had indicated. Meanwhile, the pilot pushed himself further to catch up with Gord, who, for all his strength, didn’t have as much stamina and was already starting to slow.

  Hearing Josh pounding on the street behind him, Gord looked around for a way to throw him off his track. Running past a couple out for an evening stroll, he turned and shoved the woman at Josh. As she tumbled into his arms, the pilot was forced to apologize to her partner as he extricated himself from her, giving Gord a precious few seconds’ lead.

  The big man carried on running down the road, as Josh picked up the pace, trying to make up for lost time. Going past a display outside a store, Gord stopped and swept a whole heap of apples from the table and into Josh’s way. The pilot desperately tried to leap over them, but he misjudged the rolling fruit and planted his foot right on top of one. There was a sickly crunch from his ankle. “Aaargh!” He fell to the side, slamming into the upturned apple crate. The store owner directed a high-pitched babble of anger at Josh, as though he was responsible.

  Josh swore, picking himself up and limping after Gord, refusing to give up the chase. Gord risked a glance over his shoulder, laughing when he saw that he’d injured the other man. He slowed his pace to a jog, realizing that he didn’t have to try as hard to escape now.

  “Laugh all you like. You’re not going to get away,” muttered Josh, pushing himself to ignore the pain in his ankle.

  Seeing that they were approaching an intersection, a jolt of adrenaline coursed through Josh, allowing him to temporarily block out the pain from his ankle. He picked up the pace. Gord moved correspondingly faster, keeping well ahead of the partly-hobbled man.

  A tall figure launched himself at Gord seemingly from nowhere. Akhenaton! Without missing a beat, the big man grabbed him in mid-air, swiveled around, and threw him back at Josh. The two men fell to the ground, tangled together. Gord leapt up to climb over a chain link fence. Jumping down on the other side, he ran off into the night, leaving his pursuers behind.

  Sirens sounded in the distance, coming closer as Akhenaton reached down to help Josh up.

  “I think we’d better get out of here before the police arrive,” he advised. “Much as it pains me to say it, we’re going to have to let him go–this time. We haven’t got the time to deal with police questions and by the looks of that foot of yours, you’re in no fit state to run anymore.”

  “Dammit,” cursed Josh, as he took Akhenaton’s hand to get up. “I hate the thought of that thug loose in the city lying in wait for us.”

  “At least we know that he’s out there,” said Akhenaton philosophically. “He won’t be able to surprise us as easily again. Come on. Put your arm over my shoulder and I’ll support you back to the motel. You really need to get some ice on that ankle.”

  Josh put his arm around Akhenaton, and the two of them limped back to the motel, doing their best to look as inauspicious as possible, by sticking to side roads and alleys.

  Thirty-Nine

  “Josh! Akhenaton! Over here!”

  Having been watching out for their return, Waleed popped his head out of the door to Samuel’s room and beckoned to the two men to come and join him.

  They walked in to find the rest of the group gathered together for safety, cleaning up the last of the mess made when Gord ransacked the room.

  “Josh! Thank goodness you’re all right.” Shafira ran over and hugged her friend, as Waleed took one last anxious look out of the door before closing it. “I was getting worried that Gord might have killed you.”

  “That thug?” Josh waved her concerns away. “Like he’d have stood a chance against me and Akhenaton. Not that we were able to prove it; he managed to get away.”

  “But you’re hurt,” she pointed out as Josh limped further into the room. “You’re lucky Gord didn’t break your neck. Do you need to see a doctor?”

  “This?” Josh shook his head as he collapsed onto one of the twin beds. “Nah. It’s just a sprain. I’ll be fine with a bit of rest. The irony is that this isn’t even a proper war wound. I twisted my ankle when Gord threw some apples onto the sidewalk. I didn’t even get to throw a punch at him.” He gazed about the place. “You guys have done a good job at covering up the fact that there was a fight here. Apart from the glaringly obvious broken window. You can’t stay here tonight, Samuel. Not with Gord on the loose. He’ll cut your throat in your sleep.”

  “It’s fine,” Samuel replied. “Basile’s already said that I can bunk down in his room. We’ll just have to pay them for the damage when we check out. There are bigger things to worry about than a bit of broken glass.”

  “That’s right,” chimed in Basile. “Gord went through all of our rooms, including yours. It looks like he picked the locks, since all the doors were open. Sorry to have to break it to you, but you’ve got a bit of cleaning up to do before you can get any sleep tonight.”

 
“We’ll all help, though,” said Shafira. “Won’t we, Waleed?”

  He pulled a face at her, rolling his eyes, as he muttered a reluctant “yes.”

  “Did he take anything?” Akhenaton asked.

  “I don’t think so,” Samuel replied. “But it’s not as though we had anything of value with us.”

  “Thank goodness we hadn’t left any of our notes behind,” added Shafira. “I hate to think that we might have given him any clues to our mission.”

  “What do you think he was looking for?” asked Josh. “I mean, as far as the Bruard are concerned, Samuel was buried in a cave in. How would they even know we were here?”

  “It could be a coincidence,” suggested Basile.

  “It’s a mighty big coincidence,” countered Josh.

  “I told you we were being watched,” Waleed put in smugly. “None of you would listen to me. You called me paranoid and look at us now.” He pointed at the broken window. “Is that paranoia? Maybe I don’t have all the fancy degrees or combat training of the rest of you, but my instincts for trouble are second to none. Perhaps in future you’ll pay more attention to what I say.”

  “You’re right,” Samuel nodded. “We should have listened to you, but I get the feeling that Gord would have jumped us sooner or later.”

  “The big question is, how long as he been following us?” Josh asked. “We picked this place because it was out of the way.”

  “And cheap,” added Waleed. “Don’t forget that.”

  “Yeah, you don’t need to remind me that Samuel’s a cheapskate,” joked Josh, trying to lighten the mood a little. It didn’t work.

  “No one should have been looking for us here,” Samuel agreed. “Which does beg the question of how much the Bruard knows about our mission. There’s no other explanation for Gord’s presence in Algeria. He must be here because he was sent to finish the job he started. He made it very clear that he wants to kill us.” He winced and massaged at his throat, where a few faint bruises were starting to develop in the shape of Gord’s hand.