The Strange Round Bird: Or the Poet, the King, and the Mysterious Men in Black

by Eden Unger Bowditch

  As the table was being prepared for dinner, the children and the adults cleaned up for their meal. Miss Brett, Dr. Banneker, and Wallace spoke together in the Bannekers’ room.

  “I hope that will be acceptable,” said Miss Brett to Wallace, beaming down at his wide-open mouth and wide-open eyes.

  Wallace responded by throwing his arms around Miss Brett, throwing his arms around his father, then trying to reach around them both at the same time.

  “Acceptable? To have Miss Brett come and live with us? I am assuming you are both being humourous by asking. It is a dream—truly a dream.”

  Miss Brett and Dr. Banneker looked at one another. They could not have smiled broader, each placing a hand in one of Wallace’s. Gingerly, they reached for one another and held hands. Wallace saw this and his head began to fill with thoughts. Miss Brett and his father had spent a great deal of time together, had taken walks together, had been found together in quiet conversation. Could it be?

  “Will Miss Brett be my mother?” asked Wallace.

  “Oh, sweet angel, I could never replace—”

  “I didn’t say replace,” said Wallace. “I asked if you were going to be my mother now.”

  Miss Brett and Dr. Banneker looked long and hard at one another. Without a word, they enveloped Wallace in their arms. It felt like a family. As they walked to the dining hall, Wallace wondered if he would be carrying the ring at the wedding.

  “You children have been instrumental to the success of our work,” said Dr. Tobias Modest, raising a glass to the group as they gathered together for their last meal before departing.

  “I’m proud to be a part of this crazy guard,” said Noah, raising his glass of mango juice. “Cheers to all members, past and present, of the Young Inventors Guild. And cheers to Il Magna, and the mysterious order of the brothers in black.”

  Everyone around the table raised glasses in salute. The power of the moment did not escape a single person. Even Ralph barked a toast, or perhaps a “thanks” for the large bone on a silver tray a young brother brought him to enjoy.

  “And to Ralph,” added Lucy.

  “And to Ralph,” echoed the others.

  Forks, knives, and spoons began to clink against plates and bowls as the feast of roasts and soups and breads came to life. Mr. Bell sat quietly at the head of the table. He looked around the room in the way he always did, with deep understanding of more than could be fathomed.

  “Mr. Bell,” said Lucy, now standing and tugging at the man’s sleeve, “I don’t want to say good-bye.”

  “My dear Miss Modest,” said Mr. Bell, “you are the Young Inventors Guild. You are the power of the future—the minds who protect, in secret, the calm of the planet. My dearest girl, there is never good-bye.”

  But, as they all climbed into carriages, it certainly felt like goodbye. Faye and her parents headed for a ship leaving from Alexandria. Noah and his parents, and Ralph, boarded a carriage that would bring them to the zeppelin that waited atop the Mokhattam Hills. Wallace, Miss Brett, and Dr. Banneker were headed south for a short trip to Luxor before returning to America. Jasper, Lucy, and their parents planned a trip to the Nile, where they were to sail to the Suez Canal and across the Mediterranean along the southern coast of Europe to arrive at Dover in England.

  The five members of the Young Inventors Guild looked out of the windows of their carriages as their parents climbed aboard. Jasper could see tears silently falling from Faye’s beautiful green eyes, her hand against the glass. He touched his window, too, and they sat looking at each other, knowing this was as close as they would come until…

  Noah’s funny smile was fighting to stay on his lips. Wallace’s hand was pushing his glasses up onto his nose, Miss Brett’s hand on his shoulder. Lucy was beginning to wave when her carriage lurched into motion. Noah raised his hand and began to wave, too. Soon all five children and their teacher, Miss Brett, were waving through their windows. They waved as the carriages began to move. They all waved to each other, as if this would hold them all together as they departed, with their tokens, their bonds, and their future, for places all across the planet.

  Each of them waved, and waved, until the last of the others was no longer in sight.

  TALES

  FROM THE

  ARCHIVIST

  As Found On The

  Secret Shelf Of The

  Library Of The Castle

  of Suleiman

  Tales from the Archivist

  I am writing this for myself, both to find my place among the brothers in black and to find my place, as an orphan, in the world family. But as I write this to you, reader, I am aware that I am sharing my story. Perhaps I share it with a stranger, but I prefer to think of it as with a friend. Welcome.

  Gozo is a Maltese island, the second largest, with great cliffs and ancient sites. It has been a homeland for the great brothers in black, the dark monk knights, the guardians of Suleiman, for hundreds of years. If, reader, you ask more of the brothers in black, you must either put down this volume or turn to the volumes at the back of the library to understand the deepest secrets. The secrets of the brothers in black are perhaps the most important secrets that the planet carries. The brothers carry a burden as heavy as Atlas. Their story begins in the sixteenth century. Mine begins in 1830.

  Perhaps, before my story, I must go back to my grandfather. Alexander Ball, Baronet, Gloucester, Civil Commissioner of Malta, was a man beloved by the people of Malta. He was in Lord Nelson’s army and was a hero among his men. The brothers in black took him into their confidence and he fiercely defended their secret mission. He protected it with his life. He died in 1809, leaving behind a young son of ten, William Keith Ball. This son came to Malta at the age of 20 to see the land of his father’s great stories. He was greeted with great affection.

  It was here that he fell in love with the daughter of a visiting diplomat from Persia, the beautiful Azita, a daughter of the great courts of Egypt and Persia. Her family could be traced to Ottoman royalty, on one side, and the son of the son of the son of the Grand Master of the Knights of St John, on the other. Her family was there celebrating their link, through a common ancestor, to ancient Malta. William and Azita wanted to marry but the young Baronet’s British aristocractic family would hear nothing of this. He was an Englishman and only an English marriage would be accepted. They demanded that William Keith Ball return to England.

  Young William and Azita had already made their decision, however. Defying his family’s will, William Keith Ball of Glouchester married his love in Malta. William brought his wife back to England, sure she would win his family’s hearts by her charm and beauty. This proved not to be the case. By the time they sailed to England, she was with child. The family’s assumption was that she had tricked him into this marriage. They blamed her for being with child and she was treated terribly upon arriving at the estate of the Baronet. The young couple left the family manor to live in a modest house in town, but when Azita’s health began to turn, he tried to reach out to his family. His mother came, forgetting her social stature when her son’s life was truly falling apart. But it was too late. Azita died in childbirth.

  William Keith Ball, it is said, never recovered and became weak and frail. The baby, a son, was healthy and strong. At first, William wanted to take the child and return to Malta. But because of his health, this was not possible. William’s mother began to set in motion a plan for “a real marriage” to a real English lady. William no longer cared. His love was gone. He did not care if he lived alone or with a woman of his mother’s choosing “for the good of the family line.” But what of the child? William made one demand. He did not want the child to be raised in England. He wanted the child to be raised in Malta, in the place that his own father loved and where his life with Azita had begun.

  As the story goes, he sent a note to be given to the caretakers. In it, he named the child William Alexander Omid (Farsi for “hope”) Ball. His mother changed the family name to Bell, “to p
rotect our heritage,” and sent the child with her husband’s most trusted servant to Malta. While she did care that this child arrive safely, she wanted to be sure it departed without leaving any ties. And so, this most trusted servant brought that child, William Alexander Hami Bell, to the brothers in black.

  It was the brothers who found me, took me to their dormitories, raised me, and cared for me. I became a child of orphans, an orphan in a family of orphans. We were, and are, a family.

  As it happened, I was very good with languages and learned many. I translated documents and helped… in various ways. My reading of the stars and understanding of numbers helped me further with works of the academics among us. As warriors, they taught me to use a sword and a bow and my hands to protect myself and others. As I grew, I was asked to consult and then to lead. And as such, I am here today.

  —William Alexander Omid Bell

  The Mysterious Brothers in Black

  The information gathered here comes from various sources. Some translations have been made of letters and journals from the private court of Suleiman, from the scientist inventors among those closest to the sultan, and from The Brothers in Black whose mission it is to guard the secret. Some knowledge comes from the verified and authenticated documents of ancient and modern historians. Together, these writings tell of the mysterious brothers in black. It is the story of how they came into the service of Suleiman and how he came to depend on them and trust their loyalty above all others. It is the story of why he needed them so and why the world will need them still. Forever.

  The Arrival of The Brothers in Black

  The Order of The Brothers in Black

  The Story of The Brothers in Black

  The Arrival

  The origin of The Brothers in Black is both part of a great secret and a secret unto itself. The history of their order is one of loss and rebirth. Theirs is a story of war and peace and honor and loyalty. The Brothers in Black are a noble order with a noble mission.

  The whole of the tale begins with young Sultan Suleiman the Magnificent, the last great leader of the Ottoman Empire. It was the summer of 1522, less than a year after Suleiman the Magnificent inherited the throne from his father. He showed his strength as a leader by extending the power of the empire. He sent his fleet of 400 ships and led an army of 10,000 men to claim the island of Rodos (Rhodes). The island was important, strategically, to Suleiman.

  After brutal months of combat, Suleiman triumphed. The defeat brought down those ruling the island, the Knights of St John, also known as the Hospitallers or the Chevaliers of Malta. This order of warriors were also known as the Sovereign Order of Saint John of Jerusalem, of Rhodes, and of Malta.

  The Knights of St. John were a noble religious order of monk knights, originally formed as physical and spiritual caretakers of the sick and frail at the Hospital of St. John in Jerusalem. This did not make them any less fierce. Under their Grand Master, they were a strong army. Over the generations, they became a force to be reckoned with. It was this force, as led by their Grand Master, that met the Sultan, Suleiman the Magnificent, on the island of Rhodes in 1522 and lost the battle to Suleiman’s formidable army. The island of Malta, along with the Palace of the Grand Master of the Order, was relinquished. Malta fell under the rule of Suleiman (and would remain under Ottoman rule for the next four hundred years.)

  But Suleiman was known for his fairness, even to his fallen wartorne enemies. There was no mass execution. There was no aggression against the conquered. The Order of the Hospitallers surrendered that Christmas Eve. Suleiman respected the faith they followed and allowed them to stay through the New Year and celebrate their masses and other religious rituals. The Order then was allowed to leave, in peace, on the first day of January, 1523.

  Suleiman the Magnificent acknowledged the great power, the fierce loyalty, and the strong faith of these warriors. He gave them an unfettered departure, and in the years to come, let them be. Having lost Rhodes, the traveling Order lived without real land until 1530, when they moved to Malta. They then became known as the Knights of Malta.

  In the years that followed, Suleiman would call upon this Order to guard a great secret. With a traitor in his court, he could not trust his own people. Suleiman referred to this nemesis only as The Nefarious Kor. This was a name that would remain silent on the lips of many for fear of bringing wrath. The Nefarious Kor is a shadow upon the planet, upon us all. Suleiman knew the world was doomed if he didn’t defend it against this darkness. And yet, was there any way to defend against the absence of light?

  In his search for a guardian force, it came to Suleiman’s attention that the Order of Malta had found trouble since his triumph. On Malta, they had to pay a feudal tax, sometimes in the form of a Maltese (or Peregrine) falcon, to those ruling the island. Their Grand Master was considered a vassal and was treated without the respect he had once carried. Suleiman knew from his experience with the members of this Order that they were an unparalleled class of men. Thus, the great Sultan felt he had to right this wrong and restore the honor of the Grand Master. Suleiman also knew that, if he could win their devotion, he could have no guardians more loyal protecting his fabulous, yet dangerous, secret.

  Suleiman asked to speak with the Grand Master, for he knew that none of the knights would ever turn their backs on the Order. Even though he was the Sultan and had the power to do as he wished, Suleiman respected this loyalty and did not want to trespass upon it. He met and discussed his plan with the Grand Master. It was clearly a vital mission. The Grand Master gave his blessing to Suleiman. The sultan, Suleiman the Magnificent, would request service from the ranks of the knights.

  By the Grand Master’s recommendation, Suleiman met with the sixty fiercest and cleverest of the knights. He did not press them into service. Instead, he told them his story, without revealing his dangerous secret. The secret would be shared only with the knights who chose to serve him. Suleiman did explain, however, that their work would be defending the creation that could spell the end of humanity and the saving of it, as well.

  The Sultan showed his respect for any brothers who refused, allowing them to return, with their remaining ranks, to Malta, if that was their choice. But he also made clear how vital this army would be. He explained that he, as emperor, would provide one thousand gold coins to each knight who joined him, to help the tattered Order rebuild itself. This surprised the Knights of Malta, for they were surely expecting to be executed or sold into slavery if they refused. Kings and emperors did not often take no for an answer. Victors of battles tended to be fierce, bathing in their glory, often in the blood of those they had defeated. But not Suleiman.

  The Knights of Malta listened. They believed the Sultan. It was the first test of trust, for the brothers and Suleiman. Of the sixty, only ten chose to decline the offer. These ten saw enough of battle and wanted only to return to the island and live quietly. They sought to spend their days praying for the dead. The fifty others, however, agreed to come with Suleiman.

  The Order

  The fifty brothers who chose to follow Suleiman pledged loyalty without end. These brave men could not foresee how true that pledge would be. As preparations were made for their departure, they swore to always honor the place from which they came and those with whom they served. There was no question the brothers would offer loyalty, devotion, and trust to Suleiman. They had pledged loyalty to their old order as well, and had suffered in their service. Because of this, the knights asked for only one thing—that their uniform be black. They considered their depature a kind of mourning.

  Suleiman found this more than acceptable. The Sultan, however, believed in the personhood of each brother. It was important to him that every man be a guardian of himself and of the world. His request of the brothers was that while they served him and their order, as one, each man remain an individual in spirit.

  So, with the blessing of their new liege, the brothers’ service began. On his tunic, every man wore an embroidered crest, each di
fferent, each having personal importance. One may have chosen a crest of his family, an emblem from battle, or a token of whom he had loved. And so, Suleiman’s guardians became the Order of the Brothers in Black.

  The Story

  In time, the crests grew into more personal statements for each brother. Some would design their own crest or wear a black scarf or cap from his region. Eventually, the brothers came to select what hat or cloak represented the essence of their own heartfelt commitment. Some found heroes in history, some in books and stories. Some felt that the plight of the mothers of the world showed more courage than the plight of mere men. Some found empowerment in wearing the hat or suit of the fragile, displaced, or clownish. It is the fiercest among warriors who can wear the hat of the fool. They say, “Huwa dak li huwa fil-qalba li juri l-miżura ta,” “l-bniedem” “For it is what is in the heart that shows the measure of the man.”

  The knights made themselves at home in the palace of the sultan. These fierce men, dressed all in black, struck awe in the hearts of all who confronted them and fear in the hearts of anyone with evil intent against the sultan. Suleiman knighted each one of them and, forever after, they were known as the Order of the Knights in Black.

  Over the centuries, one’s joining of the order became a ceremonial event. Selecting the mantle (hat, cloak, dress) by the novice brother became part of the ceremony.

  As he trained and learned of the Order’s work, each knight sought to find the passion in his heart that helped drive his honor and, from this, to find his true cloak. Each monk was to select a mantle—the hat he wears, so to speak—for himself. And thus this selection became a very personal and powerful part of the induction into the order. The choice represented to the outside what was in his heart.

  Through the years, the selections have been varied. The interpretations of individuality sometimes reflect certain eccentricities or divergent interpretations of loyalty. Some consider it a badge of honor to be extreme in their selection. Over time, many of the brothers have likely forgotten the history that began with wearing the crest of a family or a badge in remembrance of a hero of literature or history. But the spirit of the mantle and the strength of the hat remain.