All That Is Fallen

by Brendan Carroll

  “I’m not talking about the supper. I’m talking about earlier. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. I would never try to force you into a relationship with me against your will. I think I might have chosen my words a bit more carefully. As it was, it sounded as if I might be planning a shotgun wedding or some such. I don’t want you to be worried.”

  “Worried?!” He turned an incredulous look on her. “Shotgun wedding? The thought never crossed my mind. You are, as you pointed out, a grown woman. We don’t have to keep apologizing to each other. It was a foolish thing we did. It won’t happen again and as far as I am concerned, no one need ever know. If you would like to pursue the affections of my son…”

  “But I didn’t think you heard me.” She interrupted him.

  “I heard you.” He smiled to himself. “I think you made mistake and I was a fool.”

  “I don’t think so. You said that I should sample the wares to see if they were worthy and so I look upon it as an experiment. I have made my decision.” She laughed and he cringed.

  “How so?”

  “I have decided that you are not nearly as bad as everyone seems to think. In fact, I think that you have been greatly maligned. How is it that you could have gathered such a following, if you were not a great teacher?”

  “I told you that I am not a teacher.” He insisted.

  “That’s a lie and you are not a good liar.”

  “What is it they called that? An oxymoron? Show me a good liar.”

  “You see? You make a good point. But lying does not indicate a bad person. It is the lie that is bad, not necessarily the liar. People usually lie to protect themselves or people they care about. Only a truly evil creature would lie just for the sake of lying or to cause harm. You are not an evil creature.”

  “I’m glad you think that, at least.” He smiled. She seemed unbelievably naïve.

  “I can help you.”

  “You’ve helped me enough already.” He commented sarcastically. “You’ve given me another sin to deal with.”

  “There you go. Wallowing in guilt. Can you not take just a bit of pleasure without punishing yourself afterwards? No, I mean I can help you with the trouble in New Babylon.”

  Mark jerked his head about and stared at her in the starlight.

  “That won’t be necessary. We are working on that. The time will come and we will face him again. I don’t need you placing yourself at risk.”

  “I won’t be placing myself at risk. I will have the whole Order and you to protect me.”

  “I need people who can protect themselves.” He told her and had to laugh again. At least she had lifted his spirits. “Speaking of the Order. I believe that it may be necessary to make you a part of it.”

  “Oh?” Her face lit up. “You would make me a Knight?”

  “Not a Knight, but a member, yes.” He shrugged.

  “What if I don’t want to join?” She asked him.

  “Then I will have to kill you.” He told her in a flat, matter-of-fact voice.

  “Would you?” She frowned, unsure of whether he was jesting or not.

  “I have done worse.” He looked away from her.

  “A better insurance would be to marry me.” She suggested. “I would make a good wife. Then I could be in on all the Order’s business without really being a member of the Council. You know, like Queen Meredith and your brother.”

  “Ahhh. But I have sworn off of such things.” He said lightly. “The company of women is a dangerous thing.”

  “Your actions would tell a different story. I believe that you are lonely.”

  “Lonely?! With all these people around me all the time? You must be joking.” He waved one hand in dismissal. “I can’t get a moment’s peace.”

  “People do not necessarily cure loneliness. Everyone needs someone to snuggle with.”

  “Snuggle? And when do I have time for such trivial pastimes?” He asked her in consternation. “Do I really look like the snuggling type?”

  “You don’t look like any particular type, but I believe you might have had some experience with it. Let me see…” She kicked the horse and rode around in front of his horse. The stallion began to walk sideways in front of the bay mare to his consternation while she pressed one finger against her chin and pursed her lips. “I think you would be more of the outdoors type. Perhaps snuggling in a tent or a cave would be more to your liking. Throw in a few bearskins, a stone club and a naked cavewoman. How’s that? Am I right?”

  “You are what is known as a tease.” He told her, hoping to make her angry. “I have had a great deal of experience with your type.”

  “Oh, really? I think not.” She entwined her fingers in the horse’s man, kicked his flanks and galloped around the mare before riding off toward the oak trees in front of the chapel.

  “Hey! Wait!” He shouted after here. It was not a good idea in these dark times for a young woman to go about the countryside in the dead of night on horseback. Not everything in the woods was friendly, nor did everything in the woods walk on four legs. There had been many reports of vagabond scavengers straggling through the countryside of late. “Dammit!” He cursed and kicked the mare to a gallop after her. He rode recklessly into the deep shadows under the oak trees. He could hear Apollo’s hooves pounding the earth ahead of him and followed the sound moreso than the sight, of the black horse. “Sophia!” He shouted her name again.

  He rode on through the trees, growing angrier and angrier as she refused to stop or answer him. He passed the chapel and plunged into the forest behind the ancient structure. The light of the waxing moon dappled the forest floor with silvery light in fleeting patches; he caught glimpses of her ahead of him. The Knight of Death could not believe that she could ride his stallion with such expertise in the dark, through the forest, bareback. She was just full of surprises. If and when he caught up with her, he intended to give her a good thrashing with a willow branch!

  He rose up in the stirrups as he caught sight of her again.

  “Sophia!” He shouted again and then had the breath knocked completely from his body when something very heavy fell on him from one of the tree branches overhead. He hit the ground flat on his back with a heavy weight on top of him. His first thought was that a panther or some other large animal had attacked him. The mare reared, pawing the air, snorting and whinnying in terror before racing away under the trees.

  The weight shifted immediately, before he could begin to regain his senses and something cold pressed against his face. He fought and struggled fruitlessly against what could only have been a man… one of the scavengers no doubt. But his efforts were in vain as the vapors on the cloth choked his and mouth and stung his eyes, taking what remained of his breath. Just before he succumbed to total darkness, he heard Sophia shouting his name and then nothing other than the echoed sound of Sophia’s voice ‘I will have the whole Order and you to protect me’.

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  Mark Andrew opened his eyes slowly and saw Sophia’s face directly in front of him.

  “Sophia?” His voice was only a whisper. He tried to reach for her, but he could not move his arms.

  “Don’t.” She put one hand against his face. Soft and cool.

  “What happened?” He asked and tried to focus on the scene behind her. There was nothing but darkness behind her.

  “We were very foolish.” She smiled sadly at him. “We got caught.”

  “Caught?” This made no sense. He could feel nothing. He couldn’t feel his feet or his hands. All he could do was see her face. It was unclear where the light that fell on her features was coming from.

  “Yes. It was my fault. I’m sorry.” She looked as if she would cry.

  “Who?” He asked. This was not right. He should have been able to move. To do something.

  “The dark angel.” She whispered the words. “He is here with us.”

  “Where are we?”

  “In a dream.” She told him.

&nbs
p; “I don’t understand…” His voice trailed off.

  “Sleep, Mark Ramsay. He cannot harm you. Sleep.” She told him and he closed his eyes. “I will watch for you.”

  He snapped his eyes open and the green expanse of forest filled his eyes as a cool breeze brushed his face. He looked down and saw the spreading tops of great oak trees below him. He was sitting on the edge of a rocky bluff. His legs hung over the edge and the grass was soft beneath him. When he turned his head to the right, he saw Sophia sitting beside him. She was looking up at the white puffs of clouds in the blue sky.

  “What happened?” He asked her again.

  “Nothing.” She smiled. “It’s peaceful here. Where is this place?”

  Mark looked about and saw the tumbled down boulders behind them and the cliffs above, full of dark cave openings.

  “The forest of the center. My son’s kingdom in the underworld.” He frowned. “How did we get here?”

  “You brought us here.” She looked at him and smiled.

  “Have you seen anyone else?” He asked her and shaded his eyes against the bright sunlight.

  “No. No one.”

  “There should be a path.” He pushed himself up and then held out his hand to her. “There is a stream near here with good water.”

  Sophia nodded and took his hand as they started down the sloping path near the cliff face. When they reached the bottom where the ground leveled off, he put two fingers in his mouth and whistled. Two stallions bearing gray saddles galloped from the trees toward them. One white and one black. He looked down at himself. He was dressed in black. Not his normal clothes. Not cargo pants and the military style shirt that he usually favored. He wore the black clothing that he had worn when he had been King of the Center. The soft, but sturdy elven clothes. He reached up one hand slowly and felt the smooth band of gold on his forehead. This was surely a dream.

  Sophia watched the great horses coming toward them. She was dressed in a white gown that almost reached the ground. Her feet and legs were encased in the tall leather boots worn by Il Dolce Mio’s people. The gown was made of the same soft material as his own clothing, but shimmered in the sunlight when she moved. Trailers of white flowers with yellow centers were entwined in her hair and the smell of cinnamon and myrrh drifted to his nose.

  “They are beautiful, King Ramsay.” She told him as the horses thundered to a stop very near them.

  “I’m not the king.” He frowned in confusion.

  “Of course you are.” She smiled at him and took the reins of the white horse in her hands. “You are the King and I am Queen Sophia.”

  Mark laughed. “I thought you were Queen Boudicca! The Celtic warrior queen.” If it was a dream, he might as well enjoy it. It was better than the scene before in the darkness. He tried to remember what had happened to them. They had been riding through the night toward the chapel. He had made her angry… She was not angry now.

  “I am everything and nothing.” She laughed as well and climbed onto the horse. She sat looking down at him.

  “You are certainly not nothing.” He mounted the black stallion and turned him about. “Let’s go and see who is home.”

  “Home?” She kicked the horse lightly as he started for the trees.

  “Yes!” He called over his shoulder. “We’re home. We’ve come home, Sophia!” He kicked the horse and they galloped toward the dark green shade of the forest.

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  Abaddon walked around the prone figure of Mark Ramsay. He had laid him out on the altar in the darkened chapel. The woman sat on the floor, leaning against the stone, staring up at him in defiance.

  “Ramsay!” The dark angel leaned over the serene face of the sleeping Knight. An open wound above his right eye oozed dark blood that flowed down into his ear. “What good fortune. And without his famous sword! Even better.”

  “What do you intend to do with us? You are treading on dangerous ground, sir.” Sophia asked him and then warned him of what he already knew, listing all the Templars gathered nearby and what they would do to him if they caught him here and so on and so forth while he continued his examination of the downed Knight. The Knight of Death and one of the women. Not a bad catch.

  “That remains to be seen.” He commented when she finally relented. Abaddon raised one arm and snapped his fingers. A man dressed in a Fox uniform stepped forward. Abaddon held out his hand and the man placed a small wooden box, carved with palm fronds and pomegranates on it. The creature that still looked like the Fox General, Ernst Schweikert opened the box and looked at the brown powder inside it.

  “What is that?” Sophia rose up a bit to see the box. “What are you doing, Abaddon?”

  “Aha!” The general stepped back and frowned down at her. “You know me?”

  “I have heard of you!” She told him contemptuously. “You will regret doing this.”

  “I came here for a purpose, my lady.” He smiled at her. “I hardly expected to win the prize so easily.”

  “You’ve won nothing.” She said and looked about at the half dozen soldiers who stood behind him with their rifles pointed at her. “You are not beyond the will of God, sir.”

  “God! Where is your God?” Abaddon continued to smile. “He has delivered the great Adar into my hands. Where are his brothers now? Who will come to save him this time? You know nothing, little one.”

  One of the soldiers brought a bottle of water and the dark angel added a small pinch of the precious brown powder to the liquid. He recapped the bottle and shook it up.

  “What do you expect to do with that?” She asked him.

  “You are right about one thing.” Abaddon stepped forward and took Mark’s chin in his hand. “He is dangerous, even dead. This will help to calm him down when he wakes up.” He forced the Knight’s mouth open and poured the water in, clamped it shut again and held it. Mark made no move to resist. The water simply stayed where it was and then oozed out between the dark angel’s fingers.

  “Sir!” One of the soldiers, a lieutenant by rank. “He’s dead. Dead men cannot drink!”

  “He doesn’t have to drink it.” Abaddon shook his head. He let go of Mark’s chin and held one of his eyes open, pouring more of the liquid into the unseeing eye. He repeated the performance with the other eye and then both ears.

  The lieutenant took a step back and watched this procedure with trepidation. Defiling the dead was not part of his orders. They had come here to take back hostages. That was the mission. The general frightened him and the woman did not seem overly concerned that she was now their prisoner. She looked at him with nothing more than contempt in her eyes. He knew who this was before them on the altar. He had heard the stories and legends about the Knight of Death. The man’s reputation was well known even in New Babylon and it was whispered that many of the Fox soldiers were defecting and making their way to England and Scotland to join the King’s forces there. The young lieutenant felt that they were making a terrible mistake. He had checked their captive personally. No pulse. No respiration. The blow on his head had been fatal and the wound no longer bled. Dead men do not bleed. The heart does not pump blood. They had killed him and now this man who terrified him even more than the Emperor of Persia Major, was speaking of him as if he would simply wake up.

  The general turned to face him suddenly.

  “Is there a problem Lieutenant?” He narrowed his eyes at the young officer.

  “No, sir!”

  “Pick him up! Take the woman to the van.” The general waved one hand. “We must be away from here before sunrise.”

  The soldiers fell to following his orders. Sophia got up on her own and walked toward the doors. The Lieutenant hung back with the general.

  “How will we get them out of the country, sir?” He asked. He had been given very little information. There were very few motorized vehicles on the highways and many checkpoints. The villagers who occupied the small settlements were suspicious of everyone and everything. The Templars
were everywhere now. It seemed that the whole of the remaining population of this region had joined the Order in some form or fashion. Ramsay’s estate was the center of Scotland’s government. They had taken Ramsay, himself. Surely the general could not hope to escape with his body.

  “You worry too much.” The general smiled at him. “There are always alternatives.”

  “Yes, sir.” The lieutenant nodded uncertainly.

  Abaddon took the wheel of the van and drove around the chapel into the woods instead of heading back toward the highway. They bounced over the root-filled ground between the trees and stopped on the edge of a small bluff overlooking a picturesque stream. The general got out and ordered the men to bring Ramsay as he started down the moss-covered banks. When they reached the banks of the stream, Abaddon turned back and indicated a dark opening in the cut bank.

  “What is that?” The lieutenant squinted in to the gloom. The cave yawned black and forbidding in the graying light of dawn.

  “That is our way out, Lieutenant.” The general started up the bank, pushing the woman ahead of him. The men struggled up the loose, damp soil after him, their feet slipping on the moss and rocks.

  One of the soldiers produced chemical light sticks from his pack and handed them to the men. The eerie blue glow showed fear written the soldiers’ faces as they eyed the dark cave.

  Schweikert pulled his pistol from the holster and looked about at them. “Anyone who wishes to resign, speak now.” He told them darkly. They glanced at each other and none spoke or moved. “Good! Now be careful in there. Stay together! Don’t fall behind or you’ll be left.”

  Abaddon pushed Sophia into the opening and followed after her. The lieutenant glanced around at his men and then plunged in after the general, holding his light stick high in front of him. The smell of mold and earth assaulted his nose.

  Chapter Nineteen of Twenty-Two