“Before you look at it, I would ask that you consider what you mean to me,” his father told him in a low voice that made the hair on the back of his neck raise up. “I have always loved you as a son even when you did not know it and I always had your best interests at heart… always.”
The Grand Master released the Healer’s hand and then got up slowly. He made his way down the back hallway and out the door into the chill gray of morning. Simon sat poised with his hand over the paper until he heard the back door slam. Luke Matthew snorted and rearranged his arms, before continuing his snores.
Simon picked up the paper and unfolded it slowly.
There was a phone number and a name scribbled in his father’s scratchy hand. Catharine de Goth. Simon dropped the paper on the table. His mother’s phone number? How? Why? He’d barely had time to absorb the idea that his mother was still alive and now this? Had his father found this number for him? He grabbed up the phone and punched in the speed dial number for Louis Champlain.
“Oui`?” the Knight answered on the second ring.
“Louis?” Simon’s voice was full of desperation.
“Simon?”
“Where did you get this number?”
“Your father did not tell you?”
“No!”
“The woman called here looking for you, Brother.”
“She… called…. There?” Simon was astounded.
“Oui`! Do you know her? I used to know some people by that name in France. A long, long time ago. I have not heard it in ages.”
“Oui`. I know her… of her,” Simon’s voice was shaking.
“Is she trouble?” Louis picked up on his distress instantly.
“Possibly,” Simon told him truthfully.
“Who is she?” Louis asked him.
“She is my mother.”
“Sacre bleu!!” Louis dropped the phone then scrambled to pick it up again. “Do not call her, Brother! I beg you! I am sorry. I didn’t know who she was. I should have remembered the name… the place… I’m sorry!”
“But why would I not call her, Louis?”
“She is… there was… she is…” Louis stammered and Simon heard the phone clatter again.
“She is what?!” Simon asked in exasperation.
“She is a Cathar. A heretic! A blood drinker!!” Louis was panicked.
“Surely you don’t believe that, Brother.” Simon closed his eyes.
“I know she is! I was… there were… we had… if you had only… there was nothing…” Louis was off again. “It is why I left the Languedoc and joined the Order.”
“Louis?” Simon frowned and felt as if he was drifting.
“Oui`?”
“You were a Cathar?”
“Simon, please do not ask me this question.”
“You were a blood drinker?”
“Simon, for the love of all the Saints…” Louis sounded terrible now. “I have repented my sins to your father. Ask him.”
“Thank you, Brother.” Simon pressed the button on the phone and laid it on the table. This was more than he could bear. He picked up the paper and stuffed it in his pocket. History had played out a long story of deceit and counter deceit. Surely, the charges against the Cathars were trumped up stories perpetrated by the same people who had destroyed the Order of Solomon's Temple. But to hear this near admission from one of his own Brothers was too much. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and headed up the stairs. He would not wake Mark Andrew. He needed his rest. Luke Matthew would not understand. Luke Andrew would probably not care if Simon of Grenoble’s mother was a vampire. He was much too liberal. Konrad also needed to rest and he could not bother his sons with this. Not yet. And his father? He did not know what to say to his father. Edgard knew about Louis. He knew about Catharine de Goth. Had Edgard also been a Cathar? Or a more likely question, had Edgard d’Brouchart invented the Cathars?
He stopped in front of Lucio’s door and tapped lightly on the heavy wood. What was it that Mark Andrew had said in the bell tower. 'I want to know what she did to the Golden Eagle! I want to know what it means’ What had the Chevalier du Morte been talking about? What had she done to Lucio? He was very jealous that Lucio Dambretti and Luke Andrew and Mark Andrew had actually seen his mother and he had not! They had talked to her and he had not! But they had not known she was his mother. Had they? He rapped on the door a bit louder. Several seconds passed and Lucio peered out at him sleepily.
“Si`?” he said quietly.
“Brother, I am sorry to disturb you, but there is a matter of some urgency of which I must speak with you.” His tone was very flat and formal and his French accent was greatly exaggerated. Lucio frowned at him. He recognized the look of desperation in the Healer’s eyes. He stepped into the hall and closed the door quietly.
“Santa Maria!” he whispered and looked up and down the hall. “Who has died now?”
“I think I have,” Simon slumped slightly. “I think I have died and gone to hell.”
“No. No. I believe you are still alive.” Lucio smiled at him. “But I believe that there is something very bad here. Now tell me what is wrong, little Brother. Where is everyone?”
“Everyone is asleep.” Simon blinked at him. “Everyone except my father and he is outside.”
“Outside. Is something wrong with him?” Lucio drew his head up. “Is Greta all right?”
“It is not Greta. It is me. I have a problem,” Simon whispered and then pulled the paper from his pocket. He handed it to Lucio. The Italian unfolded the scrap of paper and held it up in the dim morning light from the window at the end of the hall.
“Who is Catharine de… Goth?!” Lucio’s face drained of blood. “Catharine de Goth?” He repeated the question. “Your mother?” He grabbed the Healer’s arms. “What is this, Simon? Where did you get it?”
“Louis Champlain. She called the Villa,” Simon told him.
“Impossible. Santa Maria! Impossible. She is dead, Simon! I saw her dead after you were born. The Grand Master called me to look at…” Lucio stopped and dropped his head. He had been speaking Italian without realizing it. “I am sorry. Brother. Your father called me to look at your soul.”
“Why?” Simon did not really want to hear more.
“Come here.” Lucio dragged the distraught man to the top of the staircase and made him sit on the steps. He stepped down a few risers and then knelt in front of him. “Philip Cambrique was afraid of you! He thought you would have no soul because of the eclipse.” Lucio shrugged apologetically. “Those were different times. People put more store in superstitions in those days. There was an eclipse going on when you were born and you did not breathe for several minutes. They said that you were blue.”
“Ahh.” Simon nodded. He had heard this before. “Yes. Philip said I had no birth sign because the sun was in eclipse and the stars were out… all wrong at midday. Yes and it was February 29th, a leap year. Oui`. A day and a moment out of time with the rest of the Cosmos.”
“Anyway,” Lucio continued. “I came and looked at you and pronounced your soul very healthy.” The Italian smiled at him. “You have a very beautiful soul Simon. One of the best I have ever seen, in fact. And you smell like cinnamon. Did you know that?”
“No.” Simon looked at his hands. “I didn’t know that.”
“Oriel has the same fragrance. Her soul is as lovely as the sunrise… like her father’s… very beautiful. That is why the Djinni is always sniffing around you.” Lucio laughed shortly. “He can smell you.”
“Really?” Simon looked up at him. He appeared dazed and Lucio’s heart almost broke at the sight of his distress. It was almost as if Simon were the tiny young boy with the dancing blue eyes and silver hair that had once followed him about the monastery in France, begging for rides on his horse. Lucio had not thought of those times in many, many years.
“Yes, you know, ooohhhh, aahhhh, hmmmm, the Healer?” Lucio was definitely worried now. “I think he would have eaten you right away
if it had not been for Mark Andrew’s intervention.”
“You think so?” Simon asked him dully.
“Si`!” Lucio took his hands in his own. “Now, look, Brother. I don’t know who would try to play such a cruel joke on you, but you are my friend and my Brother. I would not lie to you. I saw her dead. We will find out who did this and make them explain why. It is an abomination!”
“She is not dead.” Simon looked at him steadily.
“Nonsense. Now come on and I will help you to bed. You are exhausted. You need some sleep! When you are feeling better, you will know that this is just a hoax. Louis Champlain should have known better than to give you that number. He must have been asleep himself.” Lucio tried to pull him up from the stairs.
“No!” Simon brushed him off angrily. “Louis took the message. My father gave me this note. My father knew all along that she was alive. He made her immortal, Lucio!”
Lucio took another step down and stood staring at the Healer.
“That is ridiculous.” He shook his head.
“Is it? You just saw her a few weeks ago!”
“What?! Me? No!” Lucio shook his head again. “No. No. That is a lie! Who told you that?”
“You would know her as Melodia. Her brother is Aristoni, Eduord de Goth. What did she do to you, Lucio? What did my mother do to you?” Simon pulled himself up and stood blinking at the Italian.
“Melodia is Catharine de Goth?” Lucio asked him and then his eyes rolled up in his head and he was tumbling down the stairs with Simon running after him.
(((((((((((((
“Why has he not returned my call?!” Melodia accosted her brother as he was working out on his rowing machine.
“You expect too much,” he told her and stopped rowing to reach for a towel. He wiped the sweat from his forearms and neck. “Did you really think he would call right back? Did you really think that they would give him your message? You should have asked me first!”
“You would have said no!” She sat down on his weight bench and crossed her arms over her stomach.
“I told you that I would arrange it. Now you have spoiled everything! They will know that you know that your son survived. What do you think they will do? What do you think Edgard d’Brouchart will do when he finds out that you are trying to contact his son after all these years?” Aristoni got up and wiped at his face and neck angrily.
“How did you find their number?” he asked her and reached for his bottle of water. “That is what I would like to know?” he continued as he flipped up the lid on the bottle. “You may have ruined everything!”
“I called information and asked for Alian Louis Champlain. It was not that hard. I called Louie.”
“Louie!” Aristoni sputtered and then squirted the water in his face. “Of all things. Louis Champlain! I find it hard to believe that his phone number would be so easy to find. Imagine that. Almost nine hundred years and you simply pick up the phone and call him. Technology is a wonderful thing, don’t you agree?”
“Yes, it is! And I believe that he passed the message along. He did not seem to recognize my name.”
“I should think not. Nine hundred years is a long time and he was not expecting a call from you. Besides you barely knew him. It is my understanding that he refused to accompany Edgard on his visits. He was afraid that he would be discovered… found out. Bah! He is a traitor to his own blood.”
“He was a victim of the times, Eduord!” Catharine stood up. “He was a victim just like the rest of us. My son will call. I know he will.”
“Hmmph.” Aristoni threw his towel on the floor and lay down on the bench. “We might receive a call, but I doubt it will be cordial and I doubt it will be your long, lost son. It will be a call from Death! If Ramsay was undecided what to do, this may be what pushes him to make a choice. Now go and pack. We are going to Scotland.”
“What?!” Catharine stared at him in shock.
Chapter Nine of Twenty
Keep thy foot when thou goest to the house of God, and be more ready to hear, than to give the sacrifice of fools: for they consider not that they do evil
Lucio could not believe what had happened to him. Why did these things keep happening? He only wanted a bit of peace, but these people would not leave him alone! And in the end he had capitulated to them and now he stood on the steps of the great Temple looking up at the golden statue of Ea in wonder. Wondering why he was here and wondering how he could get away and get back to Italy before Vanni woke up and ran off again. The priestess met him on the steps, bowing low before him and then led the way into the temple, between the towering columns that lined the main passage to the altar. Every morning? He would have to do this every morning? Ridiculous! It would not have been so bad except for the hair thing. They had removed all of his hair except the hair on his face and his head. That had been a surprise! But what was not a surprise here? The feel of the linen gauze robes against his very bare skin made him feel strange and glad for all the makeup that they had applied to his face. At least no one could tell what he was really feeling.
He stopped in front of the altar and turned around to greet the multitude of followers trailing behind him. Cymbals and trumpets announced his presence before the assembly and the people bowed before him with their hands raised over their heads in supplication, chanting his name with great reverence. He was King and God! He smiled at the thought of it.
At last. He had his own kingdom and these were his people. Their very lives lay in the palms of his hands… his very well-scrubbed palms. He held up his arms to show the people his hands and they bowed again. Two male attendants stepped forward beside him and placed a golden crown with the figure of Horus on top of his head and the people bowed again. The red ball of the sun appeared over the horizon in a direct line with the exact spot on which he stood before the altar. This particular position was just slightly different from the day before and the orange-red rays bathed him in a bloody hue as he greeted the sun god, Ra, as the representative of Ra on earth this new and glorious day. The two priests, standing on either side of him, pulled his robe from him and he stood blinking in shock, completely naked in front of all the people. Again his people chanted his name and bowed low before him. He was paralyzed with embarrassment.
A slender figure dressed in gold and painted with strange symbols approached him through the rows of worshippers. He watched in fascination as she seemed to appear and disappear in the deep purple shadows cast by the temple columns. She walked up the steps slowly, smiling at him, her palms pressed together in front of her heart. He recognized the woman from Romania called Melodia whom Simon had said was his mother.
“My King!” she said softly. In one hand she held a fabulously bejeweled knife. She placed her empty hand on his face and then on his….
“Santa Maria!” he shouted and opened his eyes. Simon’s face was a bare few inches above him.
“Are you all right, Brother?” the Healer asked him.
“I’m fine!” he shrieked and looked about the deserted foyer before trying to get up. His feet were on the stairs and his head was on the floor. A number of pains assaulted him at once.
“I didn’t mean to shock you like that.” Simon helped him up. “I know that you did not know who she was when you met her. This has all been very disturbing to me. I only just learned yesterday that my mother is still alive.” Simon helped the stricken Italian into the library. “Forgive me! I didn’t mean to…”
“Never mind.” Lucio straightened his tee shirt and checked his toes and then his nose. He must have struck every sensitive spot on his body in his tumble down the stairs. Everything was hurting at once. “I’m all right. No broken bones.”
“Are you sure?” Simon frowned at him and tried to inspect him.
“Please, don't bother yourself.” Lucio backed away from him. Simon would never forgive him. If he ever found out…
“Are you… do you think I should call her?” Simon sat on the footstool and st
ared at the small slip of paper in his hand.
Lucio limped across the library and sat down in front of the computer.
“Do you want to?” he asked inanely.
“Of course! But what will I say?” Simon looked at him with a pained expression.
“Say ‘hello!’. Say whatever. Say nothing.” Lucio bent to rub his knee. “Just don’t mention me.”
“Why? You were incognito, were you not?” Simon frowned. “She wouldn’t know you, would she?”
“She might.” Lucio shrugged. “I mean if she saw me, she might know me.”
“Then you did not know her before… from the Languedoc?”
“I didn’t spend a great deal of time there, no. But only just the one time, I happened to be with the Master when he went there. He had tried to get Louis to go, but I don’t know… he asked me to go instead and Philip went with us. To the monastery. I was only there a short time. I never spoke to her, no. I mean, not really. She was already ill when we arrived. The monks were trying to help her, but they didn’t know what to do. The baby was coming early… I mean, evidently you were on your way when we arrived and by the time I was summoned, she was already gone. I only saw a glimpse of her in the bed there, I mean, after you were born. Santa Maria!” Lucio leaned back and tried to unkink his spine. “She is a beautiful woman, Simon! You would be impressed. In fact, you look a great deal like her.” The only thing they had in common was blue eyes and then the shades were different.
“Do I?” His face lit up. “Do I look like my mother?”
“Yes. Si`! Of course.” Lucio smiled at him. “You certainly do not favor your father.”
“Oh, well. I thought perhaps when he was younger, you know...” Simon shrugged.
“Speaking of looks,” Lucio changed the subject. “Your son, Levi… I was shocked. He has grown.”
“Yes.” Simon nodded. “He is very handsome, no?”
“Yes. Very. He will have a hard time with the ladies, no?”
Thoth, the Atlantean Page 17
