Betrayed

by Christopher Dinsdale

  It was on the third night since leaving Oak Island that Prince Henry gathered the entire crew on the deck. No land was in sight as the boat drifted along in the glowing water. The prince pointed to the dying sun in the western sky.

  “Just beyond the horizon,” he began, “lies a dream. It was a dream that Templar Knights for generations had envisioned for our children. It was a dream of peace and freedom for all. A year ago, with the help of Na’gu’set, we found the perfect location to begin the construction of that dream, a Templar colony named New Jerusalem. Supported by a friendly native population and far away from the nearest shores of Europe, we first designed then began to build our daring vision; a colony where people of all faiths and ethnicity could live as equals. We began to build a new world in which there would be no royalty, no corrupt religious leaders and no devastating taxes on the poor. Every God-fearing person would have responsibilities in assuring the health of the society as well as a say in the running of the community.”

  Prince Henry paused and gazed westward. The sun had disappeared, and the encroaching darkness swept over the ocean.

  “That is why, gentlemen, it is with a heavy heart that I say we must destroy that dream. Tonight, we must obliterate New Jerusalem.”

  Shocked whispers rippled through the crowd.

  “But why?” asked Sir Rudyard.

  Prince Henry looked off into the distance, his face haggard. “What does one do when a dream, a beautiful and good dream of a land that is free to all, is corrupted and twisted into a selfish and evil plan? What do you do when the leader of an idealistic order is able to achieve its highest possible rank through despicable acts such as deceit, kidnapping and murder? Is it not yet obvious to everyone? We have only just become aware of a deadly sickness spreading through the body of the Templar Order. I can tell you right now, Black Douglas did not create a plan of such dark sedition on his own. Master Robertson was proof of that. He is just one of a dozen well-placed knights that have allied themselves with Black Douglas. Robertson confessed the names of those in whom Black Douglas has found support, and it sickens me to think that I had trusted all of them. He also informed me that his entire motley crew has gathered in New Jerusalem in order to plan Black Douglas’s triumphant return to Scotland as head of the Templar Order.

  “My friends, we have to lance the festering boil within our ranks before it spreads its evil blight throughout the rest of Europe. We have no choice. We must amputate the limb in order to save the body. Our dream of New Jerusalem has been corrupted and, for now, it must cease to exist.”

  Prince Henry gathered the men around a large map of New Jerusalem.

  “As you can see, we have modelled New Jerusalem on the capital of the Holy Lands. Like the Dome on the Rock, the first phase of a Templar chapel has been completed on the hill that overlooks New Jerusalem. It has been built in the same symbolic octagonal shape, and it is there that the Ark of the Covenant is presently housed. The Ark was to be the beacon of Hope for our new Templar state.”

  Prince Henry took a deep breath. Connor could see the prince envisioning the final majestic cathedral that had been planned for the Ark evaporating into an unreachable dream.

  “The small chapel is also being used as a watch tower and lighthouse, guiding ships into the harbour at night by burning a fire from its roof. As we are unexpected guests, I doubt we will have the luxury of a beacon guiding us in tonight. Below the chapel and down at the base of the hill is New Jerusalem itself. Built a short distance inland to help conceal its location from future explorers, it currently consists only of various wooden buildings. As you can see, the bay next to New Jerusalem has a long, sandy coastline, convenient for the beaching and servicing of ships.”

  “We number less than thirty men, which will make this a difficult but not impossible mission. We will be severely stretched as we try to complete our numerous tasks before daybreak. The first objective must be to reach the chapel and recover the holy artifacts, including the Ark of The Covenant. The Ark’s God-given power cannot remain in the hands of Black Douglas. I was told he was foolishly planning to bring the Ark back to Europe and use it as the ultimate argument for his right to be king of Scotland. Can you imagine the pandemonium that would grip all of Europe after such a declaration? He truly has gone mad; therefore the Ark must be retrieved at all costs.

  “A small party will lead the retrieval mission by making haste to the chapel along this wooded path, securing the holy relics and returning them to the ship. A second group will take skiffs across the bay to commandeer Black Douglas’s ship that is currently at anchor. The remaining knights will focus on burning to the ground all the wooden structures within New Jerusalem. The ensuing chaos should provide the knights with the Ark the diversion they need in order to return to the ship safely. Are there any questions?”

  “What about rescuing Princess Sarah?” asked Sir Rudyard.

  Prince Henry clenched a fist. “That task will be left to me.”

  Sir Rudyard took his dagger and tapped its tip on the heart of Prince Henry’s map. “This is a crusade, brothers, in the truest sense of the meaning. We will unleash our wrath onto the men who have betrayed the Order!”

  The men erupted in cheers.

  Prince Henry raised his hands. “Thank you, my loyal friends. Let us prepare for battle, for the cover of darkness will not last forever. To your stations and tighten the mainsail, for just beyond the horizon lies our destiny! Tonight, gentlemen, we fight for honour! Tonight we fight for the very survival of the Order!”

  Whipper signalled to the men to light the torches. The sleepy enclave of New Jerusalem remained dark and quiet. No one had detected their arrival. They had not even bothered to keep a night watch. The nearest enemy was a five-week sail and an entire ocean away. New Jerusalem was a town that simply didn’t exist to anyone outside of the Order. Whipper shook his head at the irony of the situation. The men sound asleep in their cozy little bunks had no idea what was about to hit them.

  Prince Henry’s men spread out quickly. Whipper set his sights on the largest and most elegant of the wooden buildings, the one that housed the men of the highest rank. He remembered being a young squire learning one of the first rules of warfare: if you can destroy the leadership, the rest of the fighting force will quickly crumble. He thanked Connor for the invention of the handheld explosive. He put the wick of the charge to the torch. Instantly, the wick hissed to life. Whipper threw the crackling charge into an open doorway. Then he tossed one of the torches onto the dry wooden shingles of the roof and another onto the dry kindling beneath the building. A deafening explosion shook the building. Cries of confusion came from within the walls. The whole village of New Jerusalem was suddenly engulfed in blasts, flames and screams of panic. Whipper leaned up against the doorframe as the first stunned knight staggered out into the darkness. Whipper drew out his sword and swung.

  Surrounded in dazzling white clouds, Black Douglas stood on the glistening golden staircase that led to the Gate of Heaven. Blinding light poured out through the bars of the Gate. The warmth of the light brought a smile to his face, strengthening his will to make the final steps to the spectacular entrance that towered just beyond his reach. His ears rang to the glorious singing of a thousand angels, their joyous music raining down on him from the clouds above. Encouraged, he lifted his foot, but as he placed his foot on the next step, a dull crack similar to an earthquake reverberated throughout the golden staircase. Concerned, he quickly took a second step. A louder snap echoed through the heavens. He broke into run. The walkway suddenly swayed, and he lost his balance. He was so close! Surely, he could not be denied entrance into Paradise! A tremendous explosion shook the heavens, and the entire structure gave way. He leapt for the base of the Gate, willing his hands to grab on to the golden bar at its base. The tips of his fingers grazed the glittering metal, making contact just long enough for a bolt of euphoric energy to sizzle throughout his entire body. But the wonderful feeling lasted only a fleeting momen
t as his grip slipped and he fell into the swirling darkness below.

  He snapped upright, screaming in terror. His heart pounded against the wall of his chest as he checked his bearings. Gulping down several deep breaths, he realized that it was only a dream. He was still here, sleeping in the most opulent room of New Jerusalem, the chamber of the Grand Master, the closest building to the chapel and the Ark of the Covenant. He would soon be back in Scotland, assuming his position as one of the most powerful men in all of Europe. He grinned under his bushy mustache.

  He prepared to lie back down when a faint flickering of orange light on the beams of the ceiling caught his attention. Strange, he thought. Who had lit a fire at this time of night? He climbed out of bed and went over to the window. The high elevation of his lodging allowed him a panoramic view of both the settlement and harbour. His jaw dropped in horror. Tall orange flames were engulfing the two ships under repair on the beach.

  Powerful explosions suddenly rocked the village itself, one blowing a single wooden roof high into the air. Screams of panic pierced the chaos. The entire village was a raging inferno. Through the light of the flames, he could see soldiers running at each other, swords clashing.

  “An attack?” he bellowed into the chaotic night air. “Here in New Jerusalem? How can this be?” Black Douglas recovered from the shock of events and, like an enraged bull, he spat out the two words he thought he would never have to utter again in his lifetime.

  “Henry Sinclair.”

  All was not lost. His confused men only needed leadership. He must head down into the chaos and take control. He swung about and stepped quickly toward his sword and armour resting near the doorway. He froze. An apparition blocked his path to the door and his weapons. In its ghostly hand, a glint of steel shimmered in the glow of the orange flames.

  “You look perturbed, my friend,” commented the dark phantom. “Having a bad dream?”

  Leaving their landing skiffs on a small secluded beach well away from the village of New Jerusalem, Connor, Angus, Sir Rudyard and Na’gu’set quickly made their way up the wooded hill. Sir Rudyard led the expedition through the darkness. The further Connor moved away from the coast, the more nervous he became as he contemplated everything that could possibly go wrong with the plan. Then, as they crossed a small clearing, the candlelit chapel came into view. It was a small two-storey building similar to the ones he had seen back in Scotland. Built of stone and octagonal in shape, the first floor was really a series of eight arches with a round second floor built on top. They halted when several explosions ripped through the valley below. The attack had begun. Footsteps suddenly rushed towards them. They dove behind the cover of bushes as two armed guards raced down the path from the chapel. The guards cursed as they passed, trying to determine the cause of the chaos below.

  “I think the surprise attack just made our task a lot easier,” said Angus, once the guards had passed.

  “Remind me to tell you about the time I last stood on Egyptian soil,” grunted Sir Rudyard, as he moved back onto the dirt path. He passed out canvas sacks to the three boys. “Quickly, now. We don’t have much time.”

  They then circled the octagonal stone building to ensure that it had indeed been abandoned. Drifting up from the valley below, the air crackled with fire and shrieks of death. The modest chapel seemed to somehow float above the surrounding sea of carnage. Sir Rudyard led them quietly through the main entranceway, their weapons drawn. “Seems quiet,” he commented.

  The inner chapel was just as Prince Henry had described. It was tiny and still in need of decoration. Sir Rudyard had explained that the priority had been to get the village finished before putting in the time required to build a proper church. This simple round design was to help remind the men of home and serve the needs of the small community until a proper church could be built. The golden Ark of the Covenant sparkled on its simple altar at the rear of the octagonal room. On either side of the Ark were displays of jewel-encrusted crosses, books and statues.

  Sir Rudyard strode up to the Ark. “When we first built this chapel, it was to be the beginning of a perfect nation. The Ark was to be our symbol of our land, our oneness with God for all who believe in the Great Creator, be it Muslim, Jew or Christian.”

  Connor shook his head. “I reckon you didn’t foresee today’s events when this chapel was first built.”

  “You are absolutely right, Connor, but we can talk about all of that later. Na’gu’set and I will start putting the smaller artifacts in the bags. Angus and Connor, I need you to find the wooden case for transporting the Ark back to the ship. I don’t see it here in the chapel. Check upstairs. They might have stored it in the upper chamber.”

  Connor and Angus threw their bags onto the floor and ran up the stone staircase and into the darkened room. As their eyes adjusted to the gloom, they could make out a large number of boxes and sacks neatly arranged along the curved wall. Connor spotted something rectangular just to their right.

  “Is that it?” he asked.

  The boys carefully made their way through the gloom.

  “Should we light a candle?” asked Angus. “I can barely see anything.”

  “I think not,” replied Connor. “The light might attract attention from the valley. We can tell if this is it by feeling for the carvings your father described were on the outside.”

  Examining the box with their hands, they discovered that it was indeed covered with detailed carvings. Two long poles leaned against the wall next to the container.

  “Seems about right,” said Angus. “Let’s take it down to father.”

  As they each grabbed an end, a quiet cough broke the silence of the room. They quickly lowered the box, and Connor drew his sword, pointing it in the direction of the noise.

  “We know you are there! Show yourself!” Connor commanded. He took a careful step forward.

  “I still don’t see anything,” whispered Angus.

  “Someone else is up here with us.”

  Silence.

  “Angus, we have no choice. Go down and grab an oil lamp. I’ll stay here to make sure he doesn’t leave. Let’s find out who is hiding in the shadows.”

  Angus sprinted down the steps while Connor remained crouched in the gloom, sword drawn, protecting the stairs and the only possible escape route from the room. It took several long, silent seconds before Angus finally returned with a lamp in one hand, his drawn sword in the other. As soon as the light pierced the darkness, both men immediately lowered their swords in horror.

  “Oh, Lord,” gasped Connor.

  A young woman was slouched next to a small, cold fireplace. Her bruised and bleeding arms were shackled above her head in thick iron rings. Hanging lifeless with sodden hair, she was curled in a kneeling heap against the stone wall. They could barely make out the heaving of her ribs beneath the soiled dress. Her body stiffened momentarily as she coughed again.

  “It’s Princess Sarah,” whispered Angus.

  “Angus,” shouted Connor, “help me release her!”

  The boys ran to the princess. Angus put his arms under her frail body. He gently lifted her up off the ground while Connor reached up and removed the long iron pins that held her wrists to the wall above her head. Her bloodied and torn forearms fell heavily to her side.

  “She’s near death,” whispered Angus. “She’s as light as a feather.”

  “Can you manage her down the stairs?”

  “Aye.”

  “Hurry!”

  When the two boys descended with the unconscious princess, Sir Rudyard nearly dropped a priceless cross onto the stone floor.

  “Lord in Heaven, is that Princess Sarah? Boys! What happened?”

  Angus gently lowered her until she rested against his knees. “She was shackled in the room upstairs, and I think she is close to dying, Father!”

  Sir Rudyard searched the chapel. “Connor, grab that cloth from the altar and tear it into strips with your sword. Na’gu’set, get the rug from behind the pul
pit. We need to keep her off this cold floor.”

  “Sh . . . she was shackled to the wall like a common thief!” Connor stammered, trying desperately to keep control of his emotions. “Who would do something like this to her?”

  Her eyes flickered to life, startling the men. “D . . . Doug . . . las.”

  Sir Rudyard fell to his knees. “Princess Sarah!”

  He gently stroked her hair as if she were his very own daughter. “It’s Sir Rudyard Gunn, princess. We’ve come to rescue you.”

  “It no longer matters,” she whispered, her face ashen and lifeless. “Henry . . . is dead.”

  “No!” exclaimed Sir Rudyard. “Listen to me! Henry is alive! In fact, he’s in New Jerusalem right now. We rescued him from the underground chamber on Oak Island, and now we’ve come to rescue you as well! Do you understand, Sarah?”

  Several seconds passed before Sarah opened her eyes fully. They were reddened and welling up with tears. It broke Connor’s heart to see it had taken every ounce of her strength to simply look at them.

  “Please, Sir Rudyard, don’t spare me from the truth. I need to know. On your honour as a Knight Templar, is my brother truly alive?”

  “Aye, Princess. I swear to you, Henry is alive and well.”

  “Henry . . . alive . . . !”

  The men didn’t know what to do as the princess broke down in weak sobs of happiness.

  “We have to get back to the ship,” exclaimed Sir Rudyard, taking control of the situation. “The princess needs to see a physician.”

  Na’gu’set, who had been watching the disturbing scenario unfold, put down a handful of relics and disappeared behind the communion table. Returning, he brought back a glass bottle and a silver chalice. Sir Rudyard smiled.

  “Well done, Na’gu’set. You found the communion wine.”

  Na’gu’set knelt down, put a finger to the side of Sarah’s neck and frowned as he found her weak pulse. “The grape water might help her regain her strength.”