Thoth, the Atlantean

by Brendan Carroll

“You would do this for me?” Jozsef asked him almost wistfully.

  “Of course,” Schweikert smiled. “Just give the word.”

  “And what if you run afoul of Lord Adar?”

  “I will be very careful. I learned a great deal the last time I visited him. I am positive the skulls are either in Lothian or on St. Patrick’s Island. They haven’t always been there. They have been moving them about.”

  “You may be right,” Jozsef agreed. “I wonder what we have here.” He pulled slightly on the white cloth. “That priest was the Levite. Levi. The one Reuben told me would open the Ark. I wonder if I killed him.”

  “It would be simple enough to find out.”

  “I should not have done that.” Jozsef narrowed his eyes. “But it seemed so right at the time. I hope they didn’t let him die. We will need him when the time comes.”

  “You propose to have him open the ark for you?” The General looked at him in surprise.

  “He is the one,” Jozsef nodded and then stood up. “Bring the package. Throw the rocks in the lake.”

  Schweikert picked up the Emerald Tablets of Thoth, the Atlantean and walked down to the shore of the deep, dark lake. He flung the heavy book out over the water and it sank immediately. Jozsef mounted one of the horses while the General replaced the bundle in the leather valise and brought it to him. He slung the strap over his head and adjusted the heavy bag next to his hip before riding away under the trees.

  The Mighty Djinni swayed down the rocky shore to the edge of the lake. He stood staring out across the dark waters momentarily before wading into the cold water and disappearing under the slight chop.

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  Levi adjusted his weight carefully and pushed himself up on the chaise lounge, trying to see around the people rushing about the billiard table. Now Mark Andrew lay on the table as the priest had lain only a few hours before, but there was no sign of injury. Konrad and Meredith alternately called his name and shook him and slapped his face lightly, but nothing either of them could do could rouse him. He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling.

  “What is wrong with him, John Paul?” Meredith spun on her unlikely son.

  “I am not sure.”

  “I can tell you.” Marduk leaned over him and held one finger between his left eye and Mark’s right eye similar to how a doctor might check for dilation. “He has been summoned.”

  “Summoned?” Konrad frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Summoned… you know, called, invoked, yanked into the ether?” Nergal shook his head slowly and then folded his arms over his chest. “Who would do this? Who would know how? It is a lost art in this day and age.”

  “Someone who knows the ancient invocations who is not here among us present,” Marduk supplied and straightened up. “Someone quite powerful, though this is obviously a bungled attempt. There is more of him here than there is wherever he was called. Very dangerous. His consciousness has left his body in a very precarious situation. Anything might happen to him.”

  “Jozsef?” Meredith’s eyes widened as she racked her brain to think of who might have used magick to call Mark. She felt ill as she realized just how dangerous her summonings had been for him when she had used the Wisdom of the Wise Women to call him to her in the underworld years earlier.

  “I don’t think so.” John Paul moved around the table again, checking his father’s pulse. “If Jozsef could do this, he would have done it before. He would have simply summoned all of us, and then destroyed us at his leisure, and he would not have been using a weakened version unless… unless he thought to destroy him by separating him in this manner.”

  “I thought Jozsef knew everything about everything,” Meredith whispered.

  “Not everything. He learned a great deal from my son when he took his body.” John Paul frowned at the growing light in the windows. “How were you planning to get home?” he asked Konrad.

  “We were supposed to call this fellow named Jackson to pick us up. He is a Templar operative.”

  “Then I suggest you call him… now. We will meet again after I have spoken with Lord Nebo.”

  Konrad searched Mark’s pockets for the business card and took out his cell phone.

  “Mother.” John Paul took Meredith’s arm. “It’s time.”

  “John!” She pulled away from him and cupped Mark’s face in her hands. “How can we leave him?”

  “We have to go. The sun is rising,” John Paul told her sternly.

  She bent to kiss Mark lightly on the lips and then turned to Levi.

  “Tell him that I will see him again,” she told the priest and he nodded to her., Tears were already streaming down her face.

  John Paul pulled her toward the door with her looking sadly over her shoulder. The Tuathans were gone. Paddy and Seamus had disappeared before the meeting. Only Selwig remained. He was quite devastated by Mark’s condition.

  “Selwig? Are you coming with us?” John looked down at the healer.

  “I promised to stay with… Mark. He has retained my services as healer. Perhaps I can be of some service to him.” The Tuathan stood his ground.

  “You can’t go with us,” Konrad looked up from the phone long enough to protest.

  “I can and I will!” Selwig told him defiantly.

  “Master,” Levi intervened and pushed himself up carefully to a sitting position. “We must honor Sir Ramsay’s agreements.”

  “How do we know…?” Konrad began and then put the phone to his ear. “Mr. Jackson? Von Hetz here. We are ready to go. Please hurry.”

  Nergal and Marduk looked at each other and then back at the unconscious form on the billiard table.

  “I suppose that is that,” Marduk said after a moment. “We’d best check on her highness and tell her that her services will be needed.”

  “I suppose so,” Nergal agreed. “But I swear to you on the mountains of Venus, if you divulge any of what was said here to Reshki, I will cut out your tongue and…” The two quarrelsome companions gathered themselves in the midst of exchanged pleasantries and left the room together in a flash of red light and curling yellow smoke.

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  Once again, the remaining members of the Council of Twelve and their apprentices were gathered in the meeting room at the Villa in Italy. The Grand Master’s eyes were rimmed with red from lack of sleep as he laid the cell phone on the table in front of him. Everyone sat in complete silence while they waited for him to begin.

  “Brothers,” he said the word quietly and looked about the table. “It would seem we have made an error in judgment, or, at least, I have. The attack on Sir Dambretti was apparently the work of the former Ernst Schweikert, General in service of the Fox. It was not Catharine de Goth or her brother. And as we now know, the attack on the Villa was, indeed, orchestrated by members of Eduord de Goth’s Order, most likely at his command and most likely brought about by our imprisonment of his sister, which acted as a catalyst, spurring him on to try to accomplish his original mission by any means possible.”

  A murmur circled the table and Barry slammed one fist on the gleaming surface.

  “So! We have incurred a new blood feud with these Teutonic brothers unnecessarily. This is outrageous,” the Seneschal blurted angrily. “Those, who should have been our allies, are now our enemies.”

  “That remains to be seen.” Edgard turned his eyes on his second. His outburst was out of order. “No harm has come to de Goth’s sister. If we can find a way to convey a message to the man, we will arrange for her immediate release.”

  “Why not simply fly her to Edinburgh and let her go?” Louis Champlain spoke up. “She should be able to find him. Actions speak louder than words. We could give her a letter of apology and explain our position to him. Offer a truce… compensation.”

  “Compensation?” Barry objected and almost stood up. “Compensation for what? They killed three of us! Two of them innocent children!”

  “The death of
the students was most likely an accident, Sir,” Lavon said wearily. “I do not believe they intended to kill anyone in the fire. They merely wished to create a diversion to cover their true mission, which I believe had a two-fold objective. Number one, they wanted to show us they can infiltrate our defenses, quite easily, apparently; and number two, they wished to ransack the chapel, looking no doubt for something specific. The deaths of our people are indeed unfortunate, but I am fairly certain we inflicted a few mortal wounds on their number as well. Tit for tat, it seems. Both parties in the wrong and neither excuse the other. Why make the thing worse?”

  “And what of Nicholas and Gregory?” Christopher spoke up. He had discovered the two brothers missing. Their bags were gone from the dormitory, and there was no trace of them anywhere. “Do you think they might have had something to do with it?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” Barry sighed. “I believe they simply left. Nicholas is very protective of Gregory. He may have decided it was too dangerous here for his little brother. They fought bravely in defense of the compound. I can only assume they have either gone back to the underworld or possibly, they may be looking for their grandfathers, Sir Ramsay or von Hetz, or even possibly Lemarik, in order to take the matter up with whomever they recognize as a higher authority. I don’t believe Nicholas ever fully comprehended what it meant to take the oath of the Temple. I doubt we will ever successfully convert them to our way of doing things. Life, it seems, is much simpler for these two brothers than it is for us.”

  Edgard nodded. He agreed with the Seneschal's assessment concerning the brothers, but it did not help matters to know they were wandering about out there somewhere. They could very well become the next set of hostages to fall into unfriendly hands. He dreaded the moment when he would have to report their absence to the Knight of Death.

  “And have we heard from du Morte?” He asked.

  “No, Your Grace. Brother Simon was asking the same thing when he called.” Lavon answered his question. “He is understandably concerned about his son, Levi. They were supposed to call in last night, but the appointed time passed and they heard nothing from them.”

  “Do we know where they went?” The Grand Master asked him.

  “Yes, Sir.” Lavon nodded. “I have tried to call the Sonnenburg Gardens residence in New York, but no one is answering. They have an automated, after-hours answering service.”

  “What of Konrad’s private number?” Barry asked.

  “I tried that several times and he has his phone turned off.” Lavon shook his head. “There is no way short of traveling to America to learn their status.”

  “I will not send anyone else to America!” Edgard told them adamantly. “Every time we send someone there, it is a disaster of immense proportions.”

  “I’m sure we will hear from Sir Ramsay soon. It may be that they encountered more difficulty in reaching their objective than they expected.” Christopher spoke up again. “It is still very early in New York and it is my understanding that he planned to make his move at midnight. It would behoove us to…” His words were cut off as Peter Rushkin burst into the room, wide-eyed with excitement.

  “Have you heard?!” He shouted and held the door open as one of the students pushed a metal cart with a television set on it in the door.

  “Heard what?!” Edgard stood up.

  “Saints preserve us!” Barry pressed his hands to his face. “What now?”

  The meeting was disrupted as the Chaplain Brother pushed aside the apprentices’ chairs in order to plug the television into the outlet at the bar. He worked the remote as he backed across the room and sat down in one of the empty seats at the table, haphazardly ignoring protocol. The screen came to life and he scanned to the news networks. Again, New Babylon was in an uproar.

  Edgard fell sitting in his chair as the view showed the ambulance and the procession of military vehicles through the tumultuous streets near Omar Kadif palace. The reporter’s voice was frantically detailing the return of the True Prophet of God. The story ran the gauntlet of speculative notions including an attempted coup by Colonel Martin St. John, his subsequent near assassination by his own palace guards and the miraculous appearance of Omar Kadif at the jail in the former colonel’s cell. The report went on to explain they had no real details of what was occurring, but that the body of Colonel St. John had been transported from the jail by the interim Chief of Police Ramal Bada and the Prophet, himself. They were now waiting for the arrival of Prime Minister Abdullah Ahmed and promised more information as the events developed. What struck wonder and fear into their minds foremost and profoundly was the glimpse of the men who had escorted the gurney from the ambulance to the doors of the palace. A glimpse that gave them hives and heart attacks.

  “Was that Mark Ramsay or his son, Luke?” The simple question was asked though no one knew who asked it.

  The television volume was turned low, but left on, as the members of the Council faced each other over the table again. Their anticipation of forthcoming news from the Grand Master about the connections of the Templars, the Merovingians, the Teutonic Knights, the Lords and Ladies of the Abyss… all of this was lost in light of these new developments. The re-emergence of Ernst Schweikert, the silence from the mission in America, the question of Catharine de Goth’s internment at St. Patrick’s and the attack on the Villa combined to make them forget about the history and sequence of events leading up to this place in time and re-focused their attention on the more immediate question of what their next move should be. They were extremely vulnerable to attack at the Villa. Their forces were split into four separate areas and their ranks were threadbare. They needed to regroup and consider what the news from New Babylon would mean when the details were forthcoming as the news reporters promised.

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  “This makes no sense.” Vanni closed the big book and laid it on the bed in front of him. Lucio shifted under the cover and frowned.

  “Why not?”

  “Why would anyone want green eggs and ham?” Vanni asked him and tapped the book’s cover. “Why would this Sam-I-Am try to make this creature eat them? I do not blame him for not liking Sam-I-Am. Sam-I-Am is a very frustrating fellow! If I had such a one as he bothering me like this, I would rend him limb from limb and feed him to the vultures!”

  “It is just a story.” Lucio told his son. “A ryhme. Entertainment. It’s supposed to be funny.”

  “I do not think so.” Vanni shook his head. “And why does this creature want to repeat everything over and over?”

  “I don’t know.” Lucio told him tiredly. He was feeling much better, almost normal, but Planxty’s removal of the stitches had been very painful. If it had not been for the presence of Merry Ramsay, he would most likely have done the old apprentice in, just as Vanni wanted to murder Sam-I-Am.

  “Perhaps you should find a more advanced book.” He suggested. “War and Peace, perhaps. I think it’s in the library.”

  “War and Peace? In the same book?” Vanni looked confused. “I should think books would limit themselves to one subject. That would be more organized. At least this book has only the one subject. Breakfast. Food. Always a good subject. What is ham?”

  “Pork. Pig meat.” Lucio nodded his head in defeat.

  “Pig meat?” Vanni wrinkled his nose. “Have I eaten it?”

  “I don’t know.” Lucio was growing tired of his son’s endless questions and he felt quite guilty. He had known it would not be easy to convert his son from elvish ways to the ways of men, but the smallest things seemed to give him the most trouble.

  “Are there any pigs hereabouts? I should like to see one in the flesh before I consume it. It might be something I do not wish to eat.” Vanni told him. “The King told me to be very careful about what I eat in this world. He said there are many poisons here. This pig… does it have two legs or four? Il Dolce Mio said not to eat anything with more or less than four legs unless it was a bird or a fish and if it came from th
e sea, he told me to be wary of anything that does not possess scales and not to confuse snakes that have scales, but no legs with sea creatures or dragons. He said that there are creatures here called dragons that are not actually dragons, but lizards of enormous proportions and lizards are not to be confused with dinosaurs and that none of these things are fit to eat. He said that dinosaurs, especially the purple variety, are very friendly creatures with pleasant voices that could help me to learn many things, but he said that they are confined to magickal boxes. Do you know where I might find a magickal box containing a purple dinosaur named Barney? The King said that Barney taught him to read and he could be found at St. Patrick’s Island where he dwells in a great castle. He also told me that there was a large variety of bird which lives on Sesame Street who might be able to help me as well. Is Sesame Street in Scotland or nearby? Perhaps when you are well we could go there together and you could introduce me to the Big Bird.”

  “Santa Maria!” Lucio closed his eyes. “When I am well, I will show you these things, Vanni and then you will understand many more things. For now, I’m a bit tired. Won’t you see if you can find that skin of mead you stashed in your room and bring me a glass.”

  “Of course!” Vanni slid from the bed and hurried from the room.

  The Golden Eagle tried his legs again. He was much stronger today, but Merry had insisted that he stay put for one more day. Three days, she had reminded him. Three days to heal completely. At least she was concerned about his health. He really needed to go to St. Patrick’s Island to see about Catharine’s welfare. He had not been happy to hear that she was being held in Mark Andrew’s ominous chapel. While Vanni was gone, Lucio dressed himself and then got back on the bed, stretching out carefully to avoid opening the tiny wounds Planxty had inflicted on him. He wondered what the Grand Master would do about Catharine and her brother. He wondered if the Knights and company in Italy should not come back to Scotland for a while until the matter was settled. There was strength in numbers, and they were spread too thin. He wondered how Mark Andrew’s expedition to America was progressing and why they had not heard from him. This did not bode well. Every American mission was a disaster. The news Vanni had reported concerning d’Brouchart’s true identity still baffled him. He was still pondering these things when Vanni returned with a large tumbler full of the honey mead. The stuff rejuvenated him almost instantly as Vanni resumed his worrisome narrative.