“Aren’t things hard enough without this plastered on my chest like a target?” shouted Nathan as he stood to his feet.
“I understand your feelings but the decision is final. It is either wear this, or you leave,” said Conner. “It’s the best I can do.”
Nathan bit his lip and tried not to say something he would regret.
“Would it help you to know that it was found with you,” pleaded Connor.
"I don’t remember it," Nathan took it and turned it over in his hands, then tucked it in his tunic. "This isn’t right, Father, and you know it."
"I have to keep the peace, Nathan," Conner said. “I wasn’t always an abbot. I remember how it is to be told to do something you don’t want. What’s happening to you may not make sense now, but someday, you’ll find your own way. In the meantime, you must try hard to set an example.”
"Is it okay if I let you know tomorrow?" Nathan said.
“I’ll expect your answer in the morning. Now, if you’d be so kind, I have some things I need to take to the library,” said Conner pointing at a wooden lidded box with large iron hinges.
“I’ll take it. I’m going there anyway,” said Nathan as he heaved the box on his shoulder.
“Be careful. It just came and I'm not sure what's in it. It might be fragile and there's a storm brewing,” pleaded Conner. “You’re a good man.”
As Nathan staggered outside under his burden, large droplets began falling from the swollen sky and tapping the ground around him. He tried to hurry but the stones of the path were getting slippery with the rain making every step a task. He almost made it to the door of the Library when the door burst open, hitting him in the face tipping the chest out of his grasp. The box hit the earth with a crash, popping the lock open and spilling the box's contents onto the quickly dampening ground. Nathan howled, griping his nose as a thin stream of blood ran around his mouth and down his chin. Nathan took the star-cloth from his shirt and used it to slow the bleeding.
“The books are getting wet,” Damon yelled.
The pain shooting through his face took Nathan's breath away for a moment, but he quickly put the cloth back in his shirt. Books, scrolls and letters littered the entryway as they both quickly gathered them up and put them back into the box. Nathan stopped for a moment to examine the cover of a book.
“These are books on alchemy and sorcery,” whispered Nathan in a stunned tone.
“Of course they are, you idiot. They are collected to be destroyed,” said Damon as he wiped the rain from the books and put them back in the box. “Now are you going to help or not?”
“I’m sorry,” Nathan said picking up texts and wiping them off with his sleeves.
“Just watch where you’re going,” Damon said handing some scrolls to Nathan and rushing toward the Scriptorium. Nathan did not like the idea of keeping books on the occult for any length of time whether they were being destroyed or not. He quickly slammed the chest shut, shouldered it again and entered the library. If the books were being destroyed then why worry if they got wet? The bitter winds from the storms off the North Sea blew cold and wicked drops of rain slamming against the walls of the library. Nathan struggled through the door, set the box down and looked up to see Brother Delgado staring down at him through the pale candlelight.
“What's this?” Delgado asked.
“A box of writings that belong to the Vatican. I had a mishap with Brother Damon and dropped them outside. Everything appears to be accounted for,” said Nathan.
“That’s not what I’m talking about,” said Delgado pointing to the Star-of-David cloth peeking out of Nathan’s shirt. The librarian quickly pulled it loose, gently handling the star-crested cloth.
“Abbot Conner insists I wear this to help keep the peace, or he’s going to boot me out into the street,” said Nathan.
“You should be honored,” said Delgado.
Stunned at the comment, Nathan stepped back a few paces.
“You can’t be serious! This is a mark of disgrace and everyone knows it. Besides, I have to wash it anyway since I bled all over it,” said Nathan.
“What are you talking about? There’s no blood on it,” stated Delgado, holding the cloth up to the light once again.
Puzzled, Nathan snatched the cloth, moved to the nearest candle and searched it end-to-end. Not one speck of blood showed anywhere on the cloth, or any other stains for that matter. Nathan stared in confused disbelief.
“I could swear I bled all over this,” Nathan mumbled to himself.
Delgado put his hand to Nathan’s face, pushing and prodding to find any source of injury.
“You say you had a nose-bleed? It must have been the first bloodless nosebleed in history. You look fine to me but I’m worried about your good sense,” he said. “Where did you say this accident happen?”
“I don’t understand. Damon was leaving the library and hit me in the face with the door on his way out. I was bleeding. He helped me pick up the books before they ruined in the rain,” said Nathan as he checked his nose injury. Nothing. Shaking his head, Nathan sighed with confusion, tucking the star-cloth back in his shirt.
“Damon? I’ve been in the library all morning and never saw him,” said Delgado as he began opening the box. As the light struck the items in the box, Delgado reached inside, turning over several books and shuffling through the scrolls. His eyes grew wide as he snatched his hand back from the contents as though bitten by a viper.
“Damon said they’re collected for burning,” Nathan muttered.
“He is right about these being destined for burning. I've seen enough to know the contents of this chest are terribly harmful,” cautioned Delgado.
“Should we be handling them without permission?” questioned Nathan.
“I’ll take full responsibility,” said Delgado. “Are you certain this is all of them?”
“This is all we found,” said Nathan.
“Let's look at the content’s list to be certain,” Delgado said. He quickly took the manifest and checked each item in the chest with the list. “There is something missing. Are you sure you looked everywhere?”
“I'm certain but I'll check again,” Nathan said.
“That can wait. Get some lamp-oil and follow me,” said Delgado urgently as he shouldered the chest.
Nathan quickly collected a glass vial of oil and followed close behind Delgado to a covered pit constructed for burning refuse and other unwanted materials. Delgado opened the lid, poured oil on the chest, said a brief prayer and set it ablaze. The smell of the fire made Nathan’s stomach churn. With pages that twisted and curled like a snake fighting death, the books refused to burn at first, hissing and moaning in the growing flame. Eventually, the entire chest engulfed in flame, and only then, did its entire contents catch fire, spewing its noxious fumes into the darkening sky. The blaze sprang up in colors of green, red and violet that rose into the air in a spiral of smoke, twirling and swirling as tiny droplets of rain began to fall, sizzling as they hit the fire.
“Do you see why we cannot wait? Sometimes, the deadliest poison is in the simplest containers. Now, where did I put that list,” said Delgado walking back into the library.
Nathan watched the flame, held captive by its dangerous beauty as the books crackled and popped like a hundred dancing imps. Nathan’s gaze held fast to the blaze as images of men and women shaped themselves in the flame. He thought he could almost hear voices, calling out to him from a distant shadowed valley and he found himself reaching out toward the fire. Suddenly, he felt the cold hand of reality snatch him out of his daze.
“Nathan, it’s raining, come in before you catch your death,” called Delgado through the library doorway. “What are you looking at anyway?”
Nathan rubbed his face with his hands and shook his head.
“Nothing,” said Nathan. But as he plodded back to the library, he couldn’t help casting a hesitant glace over his shoulder at the dying embers of the fire. “I’m sure it was nothing.�
�
Two
“An Important Title…”
“Take a look at this,” said Delgado pointing at the long sheet of parchment he took from the chest. “It’s faint but that is the crest of the bishop and can only mean that it came from the Vatican Library itself.”
“Why would the Vatican Library have books on alchemy and witchcraft?” asked Nathan as a sense of dread clutched at his throat.
“To do just what we’ve done – destroy them,” said Delgado.
“You’ve always taught me that only the foolish fear learning. So why not learn from them instead of burning them?” said Nathan.
“God forbids the use of demon knowledge for a reason,” said Delgado, wiping a burly hand across his face. “Solomon was wisest of us all, and knew many secrets that only angels know, but did that help him? No. In the end, pride in his knowledge led to arrogance and that became his downfall as he worshiped other gods. Knowledge is a tool, and it can be helpful, or harmful, depending on its use. Some knowledge is hidden for a purpose. And as for hidden things, see if you can find the missing item.”
Nathan had learned long ago to trust the old librarian. Though he never received the respect due him, Delgado once served in the Vatican Library for a short time. He often wondered why someone of Delgado’s training would serve in such an out-of-the-way place as St. Brendan’s. There was no indication that Delgado was punished for any reason, and surely someone who had worked in the Vatican itself could have any choice of assignment.
“How am I supposed to do that, when I don't even know what it is?” said Nathan.
“Where did you say the chest fell?” asked Delgado.
“Right outside in the front walkway,” said Nathan, motioning to the front of the library.
“Then we’ll start there and work our way to the abbot’s office,” Delgado said.
The rain outside didn't help them in their quest as it pelted the ground and mixed into a mucky mess of mud and sod that sucked at their feet like a starving man gulping soup. He scoured every inch of the area, but to no avail. The angry gray sky gave way to blackness as the shroud of night settled on the island. They went back inside the library; drenched, exhausted and shivering.
“Keep your hopes up. We'll search again in the morning,” said Delgado giving Nathan a pat on the back.
Nathan didn't return the enthusiasm, but went back to his chamber like a man condemned and wondered why trouble seemed to follow him like stench on a fish. Yet, it was more than that. He had let the abbot down - again. No matter how hard he tried, his goals were always out of reach.
That night, he lay awake on his cot, listening to the sound of large raindrops tapping the thatched roof, making it impossible to get to sleep. A strange feeling ate away at his gut insisting that something didn't make sense. He tried to put his finger on it but whatever it was remained out of reach. And so, since sleep evaded him, Nathan went outside and spent the rest of the night searching. Luckily, the night watchman was old Brother Matthew, whose joints give him trouble during bad weather, keeping him inside most of the time. Fingers of silvery moonlight stabbed small holes in the angry clouds trying to break through their dark canopy. At the changing of the early morning watch, Nathan crept back to his room, darting from shadow-to-shadow, trying to avoid detection.
Abruptly, a nearby door flew open missing Nathan's foot by a hairsbreadth. He quickly hid behind the door as his heart pounded as though it would beat a hole in his chest. What would he say to the abbot if he were caught? When they passed, Nathan glimpsed the outlines of two men and changed his usual path to his quarters in order to stay well away from the usual paths. In the distance, lightning flashed above the churning waves of the sea with bellowing thunder that echoed like the voice of God. The rain fell harder than before and battered the earth like fists trying to purge the ground of some unknown ill. Abruptly, his foot hit a slick stone and flew from under him, tossing him toward the ground. His hand shot out to a nearby holly bush but found nothing to support his weight, dropping him flat on his back into the mud. He lay there for a moment as the rain fell from the sky, poking at his face and dancing down the sides of his cheeks to finally drop into the puddles beneath his head. Nathan squeezed his eyes shut and tried to think of a happier time, a time when worries didn't consume his every waking thought, when the simple joy of learning made him eager to see the inside of the study.
But now, only bitter anger welled in his mind. He sat up and beat his fists on the soaked ground sending water splashing in all directions. Nearby, a small patch of grass beside the bush fell under the weight of the splashes of water and bowed low to the ground, revealing a book-cover foundering in the muck. Quickly scrambling through the sludge that coated his arms and legs, Nathan parted the grass clumps with his hands and ran his fingers over his new discovery.
“How the devil did this get over here?” Nathan whispered to himself.
The thick leather cover felt old, but in the relative darkness, he couldn’t make out any writing and was afraid the rain may have ruined it. Even in his success, he felt cheated and irritation welled up inside his mind. Drizzle ran through Nathan's curly auburn hair into his eyes, but he didn't care. Suddenly, a feeling in his gut stirred him past his thoughts of self-pity. Tucking the book in his tunic, he ran to the library as fast as he could, energized by a feeling of dread, but when he arrived it appeared vacant. He hoped to share his excitement with Delgado so he moved through the shelves of books searching all of the old librarian’s haunting places. He even went to the private quarters where the old monk went when he didn't want to be disturbed.
Immediately, the sound of shuffling paper and the crack of breaking wood came from beneath the floor in Delgado’s quarters. Books and papers littered the floor so Nathan quickly pushed them aside to see small glimmers of light glimmered through the dirty gaps in the planks beneath his feet. Nathan pressed his face to the floor taking in flashes of movement from below but couldn’t make out what was unfolding beneath his feet. Running his fingers across the floor, he found no signs of an opening.
“Brother, are you okay?” He yelled, but no one answered.
Nathan heard the sound of the door creaking on its hinges in the main chamber so he ran toward the source but tripped over a stack of large scrolls, sending him sprawling on the floor. The sound of retreating footsteps echoed on the other side of the bookcase as Nathan quickly pulled himself to his feet. The bookcase swung away from him on great iron hinges revealing the dimly lit stairway it concealed. His fear for Delgado overcame his curiosity as he dashed down a passage and into a hidden room under Delgado’s quarters. Faint candlelight stretched weakly across the room, trying to fill the darken corners. Glass tubing and flasks filled the small tables along the walls as dozens of opened books and scrolls littered the floor. It took a few steps before Nathan found Delgado lying on the floor, a small trickle of blood flowed from the side of his mouth and a broken staff lay beside him.
“Father!” Nathan cried as he ran to the side of the old Librarian, stroking the blood-soaked hair away from his mentor's face. “Who did this?”
“They didn’t find what they were looking for, but I gave an account of myself before they left,” whispered Delgado as he patted the broken broom next to him. Tears welled up in Nathan's eyes as he gently cradled his mentor's head in his hands. Nathan yelled for help but the storm outside drowned his calls for assistance.
“I’ll get help,” urged Nathan.
“Don’t worry, it’s too late for that,” said Delgado. “I have something you must know.”
“Please, I beg you...” Nathan tried to speak but his tears choked him.
“I haven’t been completely truthful my boy and I am confessing that to you now,” whispered Delgado. “I saw both your parents before they died.”
Nathan couldn’t believe his ears.
“Why?” Pleaded Nathan. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was afraid,” coughed Delgado. “Your fathe
r died of plague and I couldn’t tell what killed your mother. There is no way they would have allowed me to keep you if the abbot had seen them. I couldn’t bear the idea of you going to an orphanage. Please forgive me for not telling you.”
Nathan nodded his answer, wrapping his arms around the old librarian’s neck. The book hidden in his shirt poked his chest, spurring the young man’s memory to action.
“Look,” said Nathan as he took the book from his shirt and put it into Delgado's hands. The Librarian caressed the cover, turned it over in his hands and a coughing spasm gripped him as recollection flashed in his eyes.
“This is it and I’ve waited a lifetime to see it,” Delgado caressed the cover as his fading eyes darted about the room. “Has anyone seen you with it?”
“I just found it.”
“This is Father Brendan’s journal,” said Delgado as he gingerly held it. “Thank heaven, you found it.”
The impact of this knowledge hit Nathan like a thunderbolt. He’d heard the stories but always relegated Brendan to the distant past and never considered the truth behind the legend. Father Brendan’s travels were legendary and possessing a journal written in his own hand pushed the reaches of imagination. Just then, screams cut the dank night air. Startled, Nathan laid his mentor on the floor and ran to the nearest window. Flames leaped toward the sky as the thatched roof of the monastery began to snap and crackle with the heat. Flashes of lighting glinted off helmets and axes as monks darted like rabbits before the savage strokes of a pagan raiding party. Nathan ran to Delgado, desperately trying to get him to his feet but the old monk wouldn’t allow it.
“Take the journal and leave me,” panted Delgado.
“I can’t! You’re all I have left,” wept Nathan.
The Last Refuge (The Tomewright Compendium Book 1) Page 2
