by carl ashmore
Tentatively, Shamus drew a package from beneath his jacket. ‘They were afta this, sir.’
Becky watched as Shamus raised a long thin object into the light. It was wrapped in a tattered cloth and secured with a thin coil of twine. Shamus was about to unravel it when Uncle Percy interrupted him.
‘I think that can wait a few minutes, Shamus.’ Uncle Percy turned to Olivia Larsen. ‘Olivia, I think Shamus would appreciate a less sizeable audience … perhaps we could relocate to somewhere more private?’
‘Of course,’ Larsen replied. ‘We’ve set up a temporary committee room in the Municipio, the town hall, you’re welcome to use it.’
‘That’s very kind of you,’ Uncle Percy replied, offering Shamus his hand. ‘Please, young man, allow me.’ He aided Shamus out of the sidecar, before glancing at Becky and Joe. ‘Becky, Joe, can I assume you wish to come, too?’
‘Too right,’ Joe said with hesitation. Becky nodded.
Uncle Percy turned to the Chinese man. ‘Liang, I really think you should let Emily examine your injuries? I’m sure Shamus can recount all that’s happened.’
For the first time, the Chinese man appeared unsteady on his feet. ‘Perhaps you’re right, Percy. It has been an eventful half hour.’
Bruce Westbrook rushed forward. ‘Lean on me, buddy.’ He curled the Chinese man’s uninjured arm around his shoulder.
‘Thank you, Bruce,’ the Chinese Man replied.
‘Come on, Liang,’ Emily Appleby said. ‘Let’s get you a cup of tea, maybe a slice of Madeira cake, and take a good look at that arm.’
Becky watched as Bruce and Emily aided Liang to a nearby building she assumed had been set up as a medical facility.
‘I pray to Saint Michael he’ll be okey,’ Shamus said, watching them disappear inside. ‘He saved ma darn life.’
‘He’ll be right as rain in no time at all,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘But for now, let’s concentrate on you, shall we?’
Within moments, Becky, Joe, Uncle Percy and Shamus were trailing Olivia Larsen northward across the piazza, in the shade of a crumbling ancient church with a bell tower that resembled a macaroon.
Becky couldn’t take her eyes off Shamus, whose nervy gaze flicked between the mass of stunned faces and the wide array of strange and unusual time machines. Who was he? Why were Associates after him? What was inside the package? She couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.
It was clear Uncle Percy felt the same way and did his best to put him at ease. ‘So, Shamus, can I assume Mister Chow has told you about the time travelling community?’
‘Aye, sir.’
‘I bet that came as something of a shock.’
‘It wudda, sir. But not after all I’ve seen...’
They entered a cobbled side street and approached a tall building, its cracked sandstone walls obscured by thick knots of rust coloured ivy.
Moving inside, Becky felt like she’d entered a different world. A modern ceiling fan spun silently above their heads, driving cool air onto the freshly plastered high walls, hanging upon which were some of the most spectacular paintings she had ever seen. A giant table in the form of an egg timer was set in the middle of the room, peppered around which were eight chairs.
‘Now I do like what you’ve done with the place, Olivia,’ Uncle Percy said admiringly.
Larsen smiled. ‘I thought you’d approve, Percy. As an art aficionado yourself, I’m sure you appreciate the brushstrokes of the old masters – Giotto, Rubens, Masaccio, Botticelli, Rembrandt, Goya and, of course, Da Vinci. All originals, of course.’
‘Of course.’
Olivia Larsen extended her hand. ‘Please, everyone, take a seat. Now, Shamus, can I offer you a drink?’
‘No, Ma'am.’
Uncle Percy pulled out a chair and gestured for Shamus to sit, before taking one for himself. ‘Now, Shamus, I understand all of this must be quite overwhelming.’
‘Aye. A tad.’ Shamus nodded at the package. ‘Do ya wish ter see this now, sir?’
‘In time,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘But first I want you to put everything into context, to start at the very beginning. Tell us about your involvement in all of this - about the package, the Associates … try to leave nothing out. We have plenty of time.’
Shamus sucked in a deep breath. ‘I left Ireland three years ago, in 1869. I left for the new world, sir … America. Ne’er had much luck at home, figured I’d try my hand out there. I works my way ‘cross the Eastern Seaboard - Boston, Providence, New Haven, before findin’ meself in New York City. Anyhow, one night, as I’m workin’ the docks, I bumps into an old chum of mine from Kilkenny, fresh off da boat. He tells me my Ma was sick. Very sick. I knew there and then I had to get back ter Ireland ter be with her. But I had no money fer passage. Anyway, I learn there’s a ship, a brigantine carrying 1700 barrels of raw alcohol, bound for Genoa, Italy. I figures if I can get to Italy, I can get home. So I stowed away. Anyway, a few days a’ sea, I was discovered. All fairness, Captain Briggs wus a good man. He listened to me situation, and agreed ter take me ter Italy. From there, he said he’d help me find a sailin’ back ter England. From there I’d have no problem getting home.’
Something stirred in Uncle Percy’s memory. ‘Captain Briggs? The ship… it was the Mary Celeste?’
Shamus nodded. ‘Aye, sir. That be her name.’
Uncle Percy sank deep into his chair.
‘The Mary Celeste!’ Joe said. ‘I’ve heard of that.’
‘I’m not surprised, Joe,’ Uncle Percy said flatly. ‘The story of the Mary Celeste is perhaps the most famous maritime mystery of them all. If memory serves, she was found abandoned off the coast of Portugal on the 5th December 1872 - no crew, no captain, and no passengers. Yet all the cargo was intact, all the crew’s personal belongings were in their quarters, and there was a six-month supply of food and water on board.’
‘What happened to the crew?’ Becky asked, shocked.
‘No one knows what happened to them,’ Uncle Percy replied darkly. ‘And they were never heard of again.’
‘Well I do, sir.’ Tears dampened Shamus’ eyes. ‘I know what happened ter them coz I wus there. And I saw da whole abominable thing.’ He hesitated. ‘They were butchered, sir … butchered like rabid dogs … every last one of them. The sharks ate well that day…’
Chapter 9
The Ship of Ghosts
Heartbroken, Becky watched Shamus wipe his eyes.
‘We musta been at sea fer ‘bout a month,’ he said. ‘Be da jaysus, we battled some heavy weather, storms that woulda blown the horns off Satan himself, but we came through to fine waters. Fair play, it were a good crew. Alongside Cap’n Briggs there were seven others – first mate, Albert Richardson – a tough man, but fair. Second mate Gilling, a Dane, and a moocher if there ever were one – and five others, mainly Germans. Tough loyal men. Good sailors. We were headin’ toward the straights of Gibraltar, when one afternoon as I were cleanin’ the Captain’s quarters, I hear this mighty explosion outside. I look outta da cabin door and see five men standin’ on deck … just ‘bout came outta thin air, they did… Massive men, with guns unlike any shooters I’d ever seen. One man, biggest o’ da lot, with cold blue eyes that cud freeze whiskey, were bellowin’ orders.’
‘Did you hear this man’s name?’ Uncle Percy asked.
‘Aye. He called himself Kruger.’
Becky’s stomach turned. ‘Otto Kruger?’
‘I heard no Christian name, Miss,’ Shamus said. ‘But then there were no Christian in him. He were pure devil, he were.’ He detected something in Becky’s eyes. ‘D’ya know of him?’
Becky nodded. ‘Yeah. He’s a psycho.’
‘Last time we met him we cut off his arm,’ Joe said. ‘It seems like that wasn’t enough to stop him.’
‘No,’ Shamus said. ‘But then that wud explain his false one …’
‘A false one?’ Joe gasped.
‘A metal one. I’ve seen many a fake limb in ma time, but none that looked like tha�
��. It moved every bit like a normal one.’
Uncle Percy remained impassive. ‘What did Kruger want?’
Shamus nodded at the parcel. ‘This...’ He unravelled the cloth to reveal a black leather scabbard, about ten inches in length, decorated with glittering rubies and opals, inside which was a snow white ivory dagger. He pulled free the knife. A verse of Latin words was clearly inscribed on the double-edged blade, which tapered to a point. The ebony grip fed a pommel, engraved on which was a black eight pointed cross on a white background.
‘May I, Shamus?’ Uncle Percy offered his hand to take the knife.
Shamus passed it over.
‘Is it an Eden Relic?’ Joe asked.
Uncle Percy rolled the dagger between his fingers, half expecting something unusual to happen. ‘Judging by the last time I touched one, I would say no.’
‘Wut’s an Eden Relic?’ Shamus asked.
‘Otto Kruger is working for an evil time traveller, Emerson Drake,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘Some years ago, Emerson discovered a legend that claimed five ancient relics, supposedly crafted by God, were planted in the Garden of Eden at the dawn of time. These relics would imbue their possessor with untold power. Subsequently, a megalomaniac like Drake has devoted his life to getting them. Now, it turns out the legend, to a great extent, is true. We know, because we’ve found three of the Eden Relics. We are now searching for the fourth. However, we don’t know where or indeed what type of relic it is.’
‘An’ wut’s it gotta do with da knife?’
‘I’ve no idea,’ Uncle Percy replied honestly. ‘But if it’s important to Drake, then it’s important, full stop. We just have to find out why.’
‘Do you know what the words on the blade mean?’ Becky asked. ‘Are they in Latin?’
‘Indeed.’ Uncle Percy studied them closely. ‘My early Latin’s somewhat rusty, but I believe it says something along the lines of:
I leave, for thy finding
O, future prince
The fiery blade forged
With divine providence
Tramp the land of my fathers
To the shrine that I raised
In the steps of Columba
See my guide, held in glaze
‘So it’s a riddle?’ Becky suggested.
‘It certainly seems that way. But a rather vague one.’
‘But it says we’re looking for a ‘fiery blade,’’ Joe said. ‘So the next Eden Relic’s a sword or a dagger?’
‘That would be a logical assumption,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘And the fact that it’s forged with “divine providence” certainly suggests it’s a clue leading to an Eden Relic.’
‘Who’s Columba?’ Becky asked. ‘Is that another name for Christopher Columbus?’
‘Columba’s an Irish Saint, missy,’ Shamus interrupted. ‘A very righteous man, he were. Me Ma used ter tell me stories ‘bout ‘im.’
‘That’s quite right, Shamus,’ Uncle Percy said, turning back to Becky. ‘Columba was an Irish Missionary from the 6th Century, and primarily recognised for spreading Christianity throughout Scotland. He founded many churches and abbeys across the country… most notably the renowned monastery on the Island of Iona. Many years after his death, the Catholic Church canonised him for his work.’
‘What does that mean?’ Joe asked.
‘They made him a Saint.’
‘And rightly so,’ Shamus said.
Joe’s eyes fell once more on the dagger. ‘And what does “see my guide” mean?’
‘I’ve no idea.’
‘And that symbol?’ Becky asked, pointing at the dagger’s pommel.
‘Ahh, now that I can answer. It’s the emblem of the Knight’s Hospitaller.’
Joe leaned forward. ‘Who are they?’
‘They’re an order of Medieval Knights, Joe,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘In the mid-11th century, a Benedictine abbey was established in Jerusalem. A number of years later, a hospital was created beside the abbey to care for sick or injured pilgrims that visited the Holy Land. Of course, these were dangerous times and the abbey and hospital needed protection. A number of trained Knights, highly religious men, came forward and undertook monastic vows of chastity, poverty and obedience, devoting their lives to the order. After the First Crusade in 1099, the Knights Hospitaller expanded and soon became a powerful and feared military power, eventually being charged with the guardianship of the Holy Land. Subsequently, in time, their wealth and influence grew, and they existed for many hundreds of years as one of the most respected armed forces in the world.’
‘So they’re like the Knights Templar?’ Joe said.
Uncle Percy looked impressed. ‘You know of the Knight’s Templar?’
‘He’s played Assassin’s Creed,’ Becky said. ‘Whatever historical knowledge exists in his pea-sized brain comes from computer games.’
Joe threw her an offensive hand gesture. ‘Bite me.’
‘Now, now,’ Uncle Percy said firmly. ‘Anyway, Joe, in reality the Knights Hospitaller were slightly different from the Templars.’
‘How?’
‘The Templar Knights have been in existence for thousands of years, much longer than the popular belief, and much of what has been documented about them was a cleverly fabricated deception to disguise their real purpose. No, the actual Knights Templar had a somewhat different agenda to the one recounted in history books, or computer games for that matter.’ Uncle Percy bent forward, his eyes alive. ‘And, furthermore, they still exist in the twenty first century, and are still fighting their age-old cause to this very day.’
‘Really?’ Joe said. ‘There are still Templar Knights knocking about?’
‘Yes. And as a matter of fact, you’ve met one.’
‘I have?’
‘You have, indeed,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘Do you remember visiting The Magpie Inn in Addlebury and I introduced you to an elderly chap, Sidney Shufflebottom?’
‘Yes.’
‘Sid’s a modern Templar Knight.’
Joe looked unimpressed. ‘Really? He was a bit old, wasn’t he?’
‘Yes – well, he’s retired now, but he certainly was one. And believe it or not, there are thousands of Templars across the world, even now engaged in a never-ending battle with an ancient foe.’
Joe was interested now. ‘What foe?’ he asked. ‘What’s their real cause?’
‘Ah, that would take far too long to explain,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘It’s another story for another day.’
Although Becky found this enthralling, she was keen to return to the task at hand. ‘So back to this knife …’ She looked at Shamus. ‘Did Kruger say anything else about this dagger? Why he wanted it or what he was going to do with it?’
‘No, missy. He jus’ demanded that Cap’n Briggs get it for him or there’d be consequences. Course, most of da crew didn’t know what Kruger were talkin’ about. But I did. The Cap’n had shown me da knife da night before, ya see.’
‘Do you know how Captain Briggs acquired it?’ Uncle Percy asked. ‘Or where he got it from?’
‘Nope, sir, he neva said,’ Shamus replied. ‘And I’m sure if he’d known what kinda carnage Kruger was capable of, he wudda given it ova in a heartbeat. But Kruger never gave him a chance. Before anyone knew owt, Kruger was killing everyone on deck. No one stood a chance.’ Shamus was shaking now. ‘Kruger snapped Volkert Lorenson’s neck like it was a twig … an’ Lorenson was one of the hardest beggars I’ve ever met. The rest of the crew fought back, but, one by one, he put them down like he were steppin’ on ants. Never seen such a massacre.’ His voice lowered to a whisper. ‘Kruger were sent straight from da bowels of Hell, I reckon, and no mistake.’
‘How did you escape with the dagger?’ Joe asked.
‘Well, the blade were right there in da cabin I wus cleanin’. I saw da carnage from the window, grabbed da knife, snuck round the stern and leapt overboard.’ Guilt laced his every word. ‘Maybe if I’d given him da knife he wudda spared some of them
.’
Uncle Percy gave Shamus a sympathetic look. ‘Shamus, we know these men, and we know Otto Kruger. It’s highly likely everyone’s death warrant was signed the moment he appeared on the ship. That’s the kind of monster you were dealing with. You mustn’t blame yourself.’
Shamus sighed heavily. ‘Guess we’ll never know.’
‘So what happened next?’ Joe asked.
‘I swam ter shore,’ Shamus replied. ‘It were maybe four miles, maybe five. I found meself in Santa Barbara, at a tavern. The landlady, a lovely old gal, Catarina Rosario, were good ter me, God bless her. She took me in, fed me, gave me a bed, not that I cud sleep with those god-awful images in me head. Anyway, I kept da whole revoltin’ story ter meself, but did mention I’d been a stowaway on da Mary Celeste. A couple of days later, Mister Chow wanders in da bar and buys me a drink – very interested in da ship, he were. Anyways, I liked him, trusted him, so I tells him da whole crazy tale … expecting him not ter believe a word. But he did. He believed everything. It were then he told me told me about time travellers, about you and yer ventures. Then three of them Associates enter da bar, and start shootin’ up the gaff. We managed ter escape, and he brings me here. And that’s all I got ter tell ya…’ He exhaled a weary breath. ‘I’ve witnessed da opening of the gates o’ Hell, and all I ever wanted ter do were get back ter Ireland ter see me sick Ma.’
Uncle Percy patted his shoulder. ‘Shamus, you shall see your mother again. We’ll take you back to Ireland at once. And we’ll send Doctor Aziz, a very capable physician, and he can examine your mother to see if he can help.’
‘You will?’
‘Of course we will. You’ve helped us a great deal. And we’re very grateful.’
Shamus’ eyes shimmered with gratitude. ‘Thank yer, sir. Thank yer from da bottom of me heart.’
‘No, thank you.’ Uncle Percy raised the dagger. ‘Now I’ll have to take this.’
Shamus nodded.
‘Come with me, Shamus,’ Olivia Larsen said with a friendly smile. ‘I think we should find you some stylish new clothes if you’re to see your mother.’
