All heads in the room nodded reverently in agreement.
“Now, he talks on about how the world will suffer under these evil angels; and how God will look down upon the world and punish it, bringing floods, famines, wars, disasters. Listen ‘He took away error, and cut off evil. Sometimes, he submerged it in a great flood; at other times, he burned it in a searing fire; and at still other times, he crushed it in wars and plagues, until he brought ...’’ that is where the Nag Hammadi scrolls end and four lines are missing, but they are here in the parchments my father had access to. His version continues ‘…until he brought them forth and placed them in deep chambers, the Abyss and there he left them. When the world is old and men are polluted, he will bring forth these evil angels again and loose them upon the world of men and those cast in the Abyss will redeem themselves by availing themselves of the work.’ Of the work is where the Nag Hammadi takes up again and then it says ‘And this is the birth of the world.’” Konrad stopped reading and looked at them again. “I believe he was talking about this time. The Lords of the Abyss were cast down there long ago, and eventually, they all came out to work against the powers of evil. Now, the time has come for them to fight against the powers of evil and bring about a new birth of the world.”
“A new birth?” Izzy sounded very upset. “What would that entail, Brother?”
“The Apocalypse of John speaks of the end of the world through a great fire in which the entire earth is destroyed along with the sky and the sea and the land. Afterwards, we will have a new heaven and a new earth and people will live as Jesus Christ intended. People naturally fear this disaster which they believe none will survive.”
“It would be a bit difficult to survive such a thing,” Christopher said. “The entire earth? Who would be left to live on the new earth?”
“Sir Ramsay was remiss in his responsibility to educate you properly,” Philip laughed at the Knight of the Holy City. “Surely, your own mystery tells you what to expect when the end finally comes.”
Christopher’s face went dark with anger and embarrassment. Sir Ramsay had been too lenient with him, too protective at the same time, never allowing him to take advantage of Sir Barry’s academy as he should have. They had been too busy. He sat back in his chair and closed his mouth.
Konrad cleared his throat and shot a warning glance at Philip. The Healer’s son shrugged apologetically at Christopher; he had meant no offense.
“At any rate, Hermes says ‘the restoration of the nature of the pious ones whH are good will take place in a period of time that never had a beginning. For the will of God has no beginning, even as his nature, which is his will. For the nature of God is will. And his will is the good.’ We have all adhered to this philosophy. That all is good and all works toward the good. That God is the All and the All is God. That means when the earth is finally destroyed we will continue, for God would not destroy part of Himself, and He is part of us all. Therefore, those who know,, have no fear of the end, and, in fact, welcome it through weariness of this world. We, the pious ones, if we dare claim that honor, will be restored as the earth will be purified and restored. None will be lost. All will proceed according to the Will of God. It can be no other way.”
(((((((((((((
“Planxty and Stephano?!” Merry was horrified. “He killed them both?!”
“’e ’ad no choice, lassie.” Luke Matthew sat down on the bed and pulled on the dry socks, she had laid out for him. They had been in her hot, bubbly bath for almost two hours, and he felt much better physically, but his mental state was still terrible. “It was me own fault! ’e did it t’ save me!”
“Surely, he could have done something else!” Merry sobbed the words as she sat on the floor at his feet, crying openly about the deaths of the two elderly apprentices, she had grown to love. And, the energetic old chef who had taught her to cook.
“Trust me, Meredith. In his way o’ thinkin’, thair was no oother way. It was either me or them. Besoides, they volunteered! Bless them, and damn them,” he said miserably. “They wair gud men, troied and true. And, they gave their loives fur th’ Order. They will be sorely missed.”
“And, you were the Order for them at the time,” Merry nodded. “They would have done the same for any member of the Council, Luke. You can’t blame yourself. They know how important you are. God will surely welcome them to Heaven.”
“Aye, tis true enough thot ’e will, but I dunna feel verra important, Merry. I’ve been nothing but a bother t’ me brother fur oll these years. And, ye shud ’ave been ’is, not mine! ’e suffered greatly fur ye, lassie.”
Merry laid her head in his lap and gripped his hands to her face.
“I won’t hear you say such a thing, Luke Matthew. And poor Gil! I can’t believe he ran. But, I can’t say; I blame him. He was a cook, not a soldier,” Merry sniffed and began to cry again.
“Aye, tis true. They shot ’im down loike a dog!” Luke stroked her hair absently. “I will have my revenge, Meredith. Revenge for my nephew, Jozsef and his wife, Anna. Fur Planxty and Stephano and Gil. And, every other person on the earth who has suffered under the evil influence of the tyrant. And, I’ll have the head of King William Henry as well! Never ,have I seen a King of England carry himself in such a manner, Meredith. He is as common as a guttersnipe.”
“And so, you will do all these things, Luke. I know you will,” Merry looked up at him, and her eyes sparkled. “And, when you are king, you will return England to what it should be.”
“Aye! I’ll have none o’ that sniveling son of a whoor’s whelps in me court.” Luke stood up and began to pace about the room in his sock feet. “The sorry bastard didn’t even deign to put on his knickers to greet me and me brother!! I’ll ’ave th’ whole lot o’ them beheaded in th’ public square. They’ll meet th’ same fate as thot they put upon th’ blessed Queen Mary, may God rest ’er soul!”
Luke stopped suddenly and frowned down at his wife.
“What did you say, lassie?” he asked in confusion.
“I said you will be a fine king, Luke Matthew.” She smiled up at him. “But, I don’t think it would be very good for your image to behead King William Henry’s entire family in public. Perhaps, you should be a weeee bit more discreet with them. After all, they really don’t know what they are doing.”
Luke smiled at her and shook his head. He had gotten completely carried away. He reached down and pulled her to her feet.
“Ye’ve been readin’ yur faery tales again.” He hugged her. “I didna mean t’ go rantin’ loike thot. But, Jozsef Daniel will get wot’s comin’ t’ ’im. I promise ye thot.”
“And, you will be king,” she told him as she buried her face against his chest. “But, even Jesus said ‘forgive them for they know not what they do’. If he could forgive those who killed him, surely you can be a little less brutal to William Henry. He is, after all, just a pawn of this evil man. You would win more support by showing your benevolence.” She drew her head back and smiled up at him.
“Ahhh. You would be the King’s privy counsel then? Fetch my boots if ye can foind them.” He looked about the cluttered room. Merry had never been a good housekeeper. “We’d best be gettin’ ovar t’ th’ keep t’ see wot’s aboot. Thot was a nasty storm last noight. They’ll be wantin’ t’ ’ave moe meetin’s and such.”
(((((((((((((
“She’s a witch,” Edgard told Lucio evenly. “She practices the dark arts just like her mother did before her.”
“And, what does that make us?” Lucio raised both eyebrows at the Master.
“We are not witches.” D’Brouchart slammed his fist on the desk in the library. “She bewitched me, and she’s bewitched you as well!”
“That’s not true, sir.” Lucio shook his head adamantly. “I did not know who she was when I saw her in Budapest.” He glanced at Simon apologetically. The healer sat on the arm of the sofa with his arms folded over his chest, ready to do battle with his fat
her on behalf of his mother and his Brother. Lucio was beside himself. Why did these things keep happening to him? How could he have ever considered marrying Simon’s mother, for God’s sake?
“And, she has told you that you and she were meant for one another? Your destiny and her destiny are intertwined? There is nothing you can do to change this?” Edgard raised one eyebrow.
“In so many words, yes,” Lucio nodded and felt his face redden. “You speak of things, you do not understand. It is my humble opinion, Your Grace, you have never approved of me and you resent my presence here in this Council even now. In the past, I have accepted your disdain, because the circumstances of my youth led me to believe, I had been honored and blessed by God to become a part of this great Order. I have since learned the actual circumstances of my birth, and the subsequent treatment, I received during my youth were direct results of your intervention. Had it not been for Sir Ramsay, I would have perished long ago. I have an inherent right to be here, and it is as much my destiny as your own. It is….” Lucio raised one eyebrow and smiled slightly at the Grand Master “…the Will of God.”
“She is simply trying to get you to aid her cause.” The Master was undeterred. “She desperately wants to be reunited with her brother. This fal-de-ral about destiny and joint rulership of a new Khem is nothing more than pipedreams and parlor tricks. She has been reading your mind.”
“And what is wrong with that? Have we not a mind reader in our own venerated ranks? Is that not the sworn and solemn task of our beloved Brother, Sir von Hetz? Am I to understand Brother Konrad’s gift makes him a witch? Is it well and good, my father, that we should make use of the Oracle of Delphi and condemn others for doing the same?” Simon asked him. “I thought you and Sir de Goth had come to an agreement? I was under the impression the castle at Welwelsburg is exactly where we plan to bring these things to their final resting place. Has that changed?”
“Perhaps, you have jumped to conclusions, my son, being young and hasty.” The Master raised both eyebrows at Simon and Peter Rushkin swallowed hard. They had moved their conversation from the hall to the library.
D’Brouchart’s Chaplain Brother had never witnessed one of these exchanges between the Master and his Knights or his son. He had thought it impossible. “We agreed to meet again, but beyond that, we have simply called a truce to hostilities. In light of everything that has happened since then, I hardly see when or where we might meet with him again. It is not your place to compare oranges and apples, my son. Our beloved Konrad’s gift is not the Oracle of Delphi. He does not delve into the black arts, drawing circles, and conjuring demons. His gift is of God and is to be used with reverence as such. It is to be respected for what it is. Whereas, the powers of Miss de Goth are somewhat suspect. If you will remember, the Church eradicated her people for just these sorts of practices.”
“And if you will remember, my father,” Simon’s tone changed and stood up, and leaned both hands on his father’s desk. “The action of the Church was exactly what led to our eventual downfall, and on a personal note, in case you’ve forgotten, a particular nasty encounter with the Inquisitors a few centuries later. You cannot sit here and defend the Church to me! Not after what my fine Benedictine Brothers did…”
“Calm yourself, Simon.” D’Brouchart held up one hand. “Please sit down. We all know the history. It was a regrettable time. Best forgiven and not forgotten.”
Simon resumed his seat on the arm of the chair, but his face was flushed deep red. Lucio had not expected this development. He was surprised to see the depth of the schism that still existed between the father and son. It was obvious, the mental wounds had never healed.
D’Brouchart turned his eyes on Lucio and drew a deep breath. “As for you, Golden Eagle, I hope you won’t petition me for permission to marry. Must I remind you again, you are already married?”
“You do not!” Lucio told him indignantly. “Simon and I were just discussing that little problem.”
“Little problem?” Edgard narrowed his eyes at the Italian. “If you think you will find her, you might think again. I believe she was in America the last anyone heard of her, and you know the state of America right now, Brother.”
“I will deal with that in time,” Lucio told him.
“You are making a mistake.” Edgard told him with finality. “Catharine de Goth is up to no good. She will… break your heart.”
“You don’t know that,” Lucio objected. “We will see.”
“We certainly shall,” the Master agreed.
(((((((((((((
Mark Andrew sat straight up in the bed, shouting Luke Andrew’s name, and then, tumbled from the bed onto the floor. Lavon de Bleu came at once to his aid and helped him to the bathroom, where he knelt on the cold stones and threw up for the first time in a very long time, while Lavon went off to fetch Luke Andrew. He was back on the bed, wiping his face with a cool cloth when his son came into the room.
“My God. What happened to you?” Luke stood staring at him. “You look terrible!”
“Thank you.” Mark Andrew threw the towel on the floor. “Drag up a chair, son, and sit down.”
Luke’s heart fell. More revelations? He didn’t know how much more he could bear. He’d been napping in his room, his favorite hobby, having a very good dream. He’d been on the beach in Hawai’i. with three gorgeous women.
“We will have to mount some extremely serious attacks very soon.” His father told him without preamble. “You will be in charge of the English assault.”
“What?! Me? What are you saying? We’re going to invade England? With what? Sticks and stones?” Luke was up again.
“Sit down!” Mark Andrew barked at him, and he complied. “Corrigan owes you a favor.”
“Corrigan? That colorful little faery? What can he do against the His Majesty’s Royal Navy?”
“You would be surprised,” Mark Andrew told him. “A darkness will come over the land, and all that was, will be no more. God is on our side.”
“How can you be so sure? He seems to have abandoned us, if you ask me, and you sound like Konrad. Have you taken up studying the Revelations? I don’t understand.” Luke pressed his hands over his ears like a child. “I don’t want to hear any more. I don’t want to play any more, Daddy. I want to go home. Tell God to play Apocalypse with someone else.”
“Don’t be irreverent! He has never abandoned us,” Mark told him as he got up slowly and went to find himself some clean clothes. He still wore the black cargo pants, now dried and much wrinkled from the night before. “You will call upon Corrigan and King Lugh. You will meet King William Henry on the field of battle on the Isle of Ramsay at Luke Matthew’s side. When the battle is over, my brother, your uncle, will be King.”
“I don’t see it, Father,” Luke shook his head sadly. His father had lost his mind… finally.
“You will,” Mark Andrew told him. “John Paul is coming. He will help you.”
“That makes me feel better,” Luke told him glumly. “Big Bubba and I were always so close.”
“It verra well shud make ye feel quoite dandy. Ye’ll be needin’ yur brother, and I’ll nae be hearin’ ye speak loightly o’ John Paul. Ye dunna know wot ye’re talkin’ aboot. Th’ toime ’as come fur some changes. If Master d’Brouchart thinks 'e’s goin’ to waltz into me own castle and tell me ’ow th’ cow eats th’ cabbage, he ’as anoother think comin’!” Mark Andrew pulled a shirt from the drawer and held it up. It was very wrinkled. “I’ve ’ad aboot enough o’ thot mon or whattaver ’e thinks ’e is. Here!” He tossed the black shirt to Luke. “Find me something to wear, dammit.”
Luke’s face lit up, mischievously, and he sat up straighter in the chair.
“Go on, and get in the tub,” Luke said and stood up. “The Master has called a meeting for ten o’clock.” He glanced at his watch. “You have an hour and a half. I’ll bring up something for you to eat and round up some duds for you to wear.”
“Duds?”
Mark Andrew glanced at him.
“Yes, duds. Will you be there for the battle?” he asked.
“What battle?” Mark frowned at him.
“The battle for Britain?” Luke grinned at him idiotically.
“Of course!”
“Verrry gud then, Sair.” Luke nodded curtly and snapped a salute to his father. “Pip, pip and cheerio and oll thot good stuff!”
Mark’s expression changed. His son never changed.
“And, see if you can find out anything at all about Nicole.”
“Nicole?” Luke’s smile faded.
“Aye. Yur sister! See if ye can foind ’er whereaboots!” Mark headed for the bathroom.
When he emerged a while later from his bath, he was not surprised, somehow, to see a huge breakfast of traditional English fare eggs, bacon, sausages, fried bread, mushrooms and baked beans. This was softened by a side bowl of steaming oatmeal, Mark’s usual breakfast. The English was not lost on him. Beside the breakfast tray was a complete Ramsay red Tartan, laid out very carefully. His golden sword rested in the scabbard across the top of the carefully folded blanket and bright yellow shirt. A small, hastily scrawled note on a slip of paper from Luke Andrew, apologized for the attire and the small size of the black leather shoes. Mark Andrew snatched a piece of the fried bread from the tray and stuffed it in his mouth as he dried his hair. He threw the towel on the floor and picked up the yellow shirt, holding it up in the bright morning sunlight that streamed through the open window.
“Dammit, Luke!” he muttered and then pulled on the shirt. The bright yellow contrasted sharply with his dark hair and blue eyes and when he looked in the mirror, he smiled wickedly. The Master would surely get a jolt out of Luke’s joke, and, had he not just told his son it was time for a change?
When he had dressed in the colorful regalia of the Ramsay clan, he hurried down the hall toward the stairs. He met Merry Ramsay on the balcony.
The Jealous God Page 35
