The Perfect Sun

by Brendan Carroll

  “Knew I then that in Words are power to open the planes that are hidden from man. Aye, that even in Words lies hidden the key that will open Above and Below.”

  “Speak!”

  A slightly different tone and tenor. A different Lord commanded him.

  “Hark ye now, man, this word I leave with thee. Use it and ye shall find power it its sound. Say ye the word: ‘Zin-uru’ and power ye shall find. Yet must ye understand that man is of Light and Light is of Man.”

  “O, mighty Thoth, thou hast spoken well and true and this gift you would leave to man that he might find the answer he shall seek in the darkness. The way of Light shall he seek in the darkness, and none shall show him the Key. Only thou, mighty Thoth, hast found this gift and found strength to perceive it. Perceiveth it not now in vain in thy own quarter, for thou hast need of the Word and in the Word thou shalt hear the answer thou seekest. In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God. The same was in the beginning with God. All things were made by Him; and without Him was not anything made that was made. In Him was Life; and the Life was the light of men. And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not.”

  The Chevalier du Morte stumbled backwards from the shining water flowing down in front of him. He shook it off his hand as if it were molten lava.

  “What happened?” Merry grabbed his hand and looked closely at it.

  “This was not here before,” he told her and locked eyes with Luke Matthew.

  “This has been here before. I know I’ve seen it before,” King Ramsay said as he walked around the crystal stream that flowed almost without a whisper from the lofty ceiling and disappeared without a splatter or sound into a hole in the floor.

  “You have not seen it here,” Sir Ramsay insisted and walked around the column of water. If it were not for the distinct impression that it was moving, it might have been a gigantic icicle.

  “I don’t like it,” Luke Matthew backed away from the bluish liquid. “It doesn’t feel right.”

  “That is an understatement.” Mark withdrew his hand from Merry’s and looked at it himself. He had placed his hand against the surface of the water and felt it drawn inside the fluid which felt neither hot nor cold nor even wet. It was then, the Lords of Undal had spoken to him from the darkness.

  “This is probably some anomaly caused by the flood Marduk spoke of,” Merry suggested. “He told me the caverns actually filled with water for a short time.”

  “So the flood was here below as it was above?” Luke Matthew shuddered at the thought of these tremendous, uncharted caverns flooded with water. Where had it all gone?

  “As above, so below,” Mark muttered and narrowed his eyes.

  “It is the Water of Life,” King Ramsay spoke, but it was no longer King Ramsay, but the Dove who spoke to them. They turned in unison to stare at him. He stood with both hands inside the water. “I know this water,” his voice was filled with reverence. “It is spoken of in the scriptures. The Water of Life. In it all are born to the Light. It is fire and ice combined, neither hot nor cold nor moist. It is the Fifth Element.”

  “Oh, no.” Merry shook her head. “I know the Fifth Element, Mark. This is definitely not the Fifth Element.”

  “The Fifth Element takes many forms, as necessity calls,” Mark continued. “And he said unto me, It is done. I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. I will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of the water of life freely.”

  He placed his hands together and pulled them from the column of water.

  “No!” Luke Matthew shouted, but he was already drinking of the water.

  Sir Ramsay started forward, but it was too late. His son held up his hands and showed that they were empty.

  “Why do you fear the Lord, my father?”

  “Luke!” Merry whispered fearfully and grabbed her husband’s arm. “Does he mean the Lord is his father or…”

  “No, I don’t think so.” Luke lowered his head and placed on hand on the hilt of his sword, unsure of how this new development was going to affect their predicament.

  Mark Andrew drew his golden sword and started back around the column very slowly.

  “Thou shalt rise up before the hoary head, and honour the face of the old man, and fear thy God: I am the Lord.”

  The Dove placed his right hand on the hilt of his own sword and drew it out.

  “Ye shall not therefore oppress one another,” Luke quoted from the same scriptures “but thou shalt fear thy God: for I am the Lord your God. Fear thy God; that thy brother may live with thee. Thou shalt not rule over him with rigour; but shalt fear thy God.”

  The Chevalier du Morte lost his concentration and the anger in his face seemed to fade as he looked at Luke Matthew in astonishment. He jammed the Golden Sword of the Cherubim in the stone, causing it to grate the rock before entering the stone as easily as it might have buried itself in the meadow. The Knight of Death went on one knee in front of the Dove.

  “Baptize me with the Water of Life,” he said and lowered his head before his son, the Dove.

  The younger Mark blinked slowly several times, and then scooped out a double handful of the crystalline water.

  “I baptize thee in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost,” he said as he allowed the water to run down on Mark’s hair. “Rise, Father and take my hand, so we may become one.”

  Mark raised his head, blinking back the water and stood slowly without taking his eyes from the face of his son. Mark pulled the sword from the floor of the cavern and Merry put her hands over her ears to mute the horrid noise it made. He raised the blade and then extended the point toward the Dove. They were blinded briefly by a brilliant flash, erupting outward when the Dove took the blade in his hand. Luke turned his back and clutched Merry against his chest, shielding his own eyes behind the added protection of his arms. A few seconds later, they heard a thump and clatter and the light was gone. When they dared look again, they saw both father and son on their knees, still holding hands, silhouetted against the awe-inspiring fountain of water.

  “Zin-uru,” the Dove whispered and let go of Mark’s hand.

  Luke let go of Merry and rushed forward to catch the Dove as he fell, and then lowered him to the ground. Merry knelt beside them, unsure of whether to assist Luke or the other whom she still did not quite recognize. She did not understand how they had ended up with two Mark Andrews, carrying three separate minds between them. Luke had tried to explain it to her, but she had refused to allow his words any place in her head to take root. Of all the things she had learned and seen and done since becoming mixed up with the Ramsay clan, she did not want to hear any more. She could see the gold glinting in the palm of the one Luke called the Dove. He stood looking down at them blandly.

  The Knight of Death caught hold of Luke’s arm and tried to speak to him.

  “Hush, now, Brother,” Luke told him in a low voice. The Knight of the Orient was truly frightened. He felt truly lost and alone.

  The Dove was too much like a child, one moment he was full of knowledge and wisdom, the next, he was spouting nonsense and seemed almost daft. If they lost his brother now, they would never get out of the Seventh Gate. He didn’t even know how to get back to Lily Ramsay’s house. He raised his eyes to Merry and shook his head. She had refused to allow him to leave her behind. They had left Luke Andrew to see after Sophia and the baby. “I don’t know Merry. I don’t know what to do.”

  “Mark! Mark Andrew, snap out of it!” Merry almost shouted at her brother-in-law in rising panic, but he blinked at her without comprehension.

  She stood up and faced the stranger, wrapping the long, billowing green skirt she wore in this place around her legs angrily. She hated this place. She hated this situation. And she hated herself for not being able to help them get out of trouble.

  “Who are you?” She demanded. “What have you done to my brother-in-law?”

  “I am your brother, Merry,”
he said and smiled slightly. “The one you speak of is our father.”

  “You’re crazy!” Merry lost her temper. “You’re all crazy!”

  “Merry!” Luke tugged on her skirt. “You’re wasting your time.”

  “Luke,” Mark Andrew found his voice. “It was worse than I thought.”

  “What was?” Luke asked him gently. “What was worse?”

  “What happened… what happened to him… to me.” Mark frowned and his eyes filled with tears. “He suffered a long, long time, and most of it was for you.”

  “For me?”

  “For us… for you and I. I mean for you and Mark. He was a better person than I ever was,” Mark told them and then grabbed Merry’s hand when she sat down beside him. “He loved you… no, no. He loved all of you. He loves you. I love you.”

  “I don’t understand, Mark,” Merry said miserably. “Now what? Are you going to propose to me now?”

  “Hush, Merry!” Luke told her harshly. “Can you not see what has happened?”

  “I don’t see anything,” she jerked her hand away from him. “I don’t want to see.”

  “Show her, Luke.” Mark pushed himself up. “She has to know. She hates me.”

  “She doesn’t hate you, brother.” Luke shook his head, which was beginning to pound with every heartbeat.

  “Oh, yes she does,” Mark insisted as he retrieved his sword and staggered to his feet.

  “I don’t hate you, Mark.” Merry backed away from them. “Honestly. Luke doesn’t need to show me anything.” She knew what this meant.

  “For the sake of convenience, call me John,” he told her as he put his sword away in the scabbard and turned to the Dove still stood silently watching them. “Son… Mark!” He waved the Dove over. “You are Mark Andrew Ramsay. You are my son, and I am your father. Luke Matthew is your brother. In fact, you have two brothers named Luke. Luke Andrew is your brother as well. They have different mothers. I’m sorry for the confusion.”

  “There is no need to apologize, I understand completely,” Mark and smiled at him. “It is good to have an understanding. There are many things we should talk about, Father.”

  “Of course, but not now.”

  Mark waved one hand tired and Luke Matthew shook his head. It was too much for Luke to digest. He had no desire to give up the brother he’d known for a thousand years for one that he did not know at all, and he could not imagine calling Mark Andrew or John or whoever the hell he was ‘father’ at this late date. It just wouldn’t work. “Luke, show her and let’s get back. I have a bad feeling about this.”

  Again, Luke was undecided. He took Merry’s hand and started back up the tunnel from which they had come.

  “I’ll show her later… John,” he said over his shoulder and Merry sighed audibly. His tone was more than just a bit hostile, but he couldn’t help it. He’d taken orders from Mark all his life as brother, but now…

  A blast of unusually cool air rushed down the tunnel at them just as they entered the passage and Mark quickly brushed past them. He shouted one word over his shoulder before disappearing up the inclined passage.

  “Sophia!”

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  Paddy stomped one foot five times and then commenced to play on his pipes. The other members of the band joined in and Seamus stepped out in front, whirling around with his fiddle tucked under his chin and dancing a lively jig.

  Louis sat on the edge of the colorfully painted bandstand with his chin propped in one hand, contemplating the smoke rising from the big smoker. It was the right color. The gentle breeze brought savory, mouth-watering smells of roasting meat to him. It smelled right. The sun glinted off scores of butterflies and bees working the flowers in front of the tables and around the red and yellow pavilion. The banners snapped in the breeze and the sign that read ‘Welcome Family and Friends!’ billowed in and out as the wind changed course. The trees further along the meadow looked genuine enough. The distant purplish hills seemed real and the puffy white clouds floated overhead in believable patterns. The birds sang under the eaves of the pavilion and the gazebo. They chattered in the branches of the huge oak sheltering the benches behind the pit area. He could hear the distinctive calls of various waterfowl from the picturesque pond. He’d been over there several times. There were big, fat frogs in the rushes and lily pads. Lotus blossoms floated on the dark green water and fish could be seen breaking the surface further out. On the small red bridge were comfortable deck chairs and benches, fishing poles, bait buckets and stringers. He’d almost picked up one of the poles and tried his luck, but it was too weird, just too weird, and the longer he languished here, the further he felt from home and his precious Orri.

  The music filled his head, and he drifted back in time. When he closed his eyes, he found himself standing in the entry hall of Mark Andrew’s home in Lothian. He wore a white shirt and brown slacks, and he could smell the cologne that he had splashed on his face for dubious reasons. He was waiting to drive Oriel into the village. She wanted to pick up something. What was it? Thread? Paint? No, she wanted a new rug for her room.

  He waited nervously in the hall, wringing his hands in frustration. Her papa would kill him. He could here Simon’s voice from the kitchen. He was talking to someone there. The cook. Louis hoped that she would hurry before Simon came through the hall. If Simon saw him now, he would know.

  “Louis! Brother,” Simon said and slapped him solidly on the shoulder. “What are you doing?”

  “Nothing… waiting, I suppose,” Louis heard himself answer as if in a dream.

  “Waiting? Just waiting?” The diminutive Healer looked around the hall in an exaggerated manner, and then looked up the empty stairs before jamming his hands in his pockets. “Let’s go outside, Brother.”

  Louis had no choice, no reason to refuse.

  They stepped out onto the small porch in front of the house, but Louis stayed on the top step, while Simon walked down into the grass. He stood looking up at the Frankish Knight with a mischievous look in his blue eyes.

  “What a beautiful day. Wouldn’t you agree?” The Healer asked him.

  “Oh, one of the beautifullest I’ve seen in some time,” Louis answered and looked up at the sky.

  “A nice day for a drive.” Simon looked at the cars parked in front of the house.

  “I would have to agree with that as well, Little Brother.”

  “If a man was a mind to take a drive on a beautiful day like this, he would do well to take someone along to enjoy the ride with him. Someone he might enjoy speaking with.”

  “A wonderful idea. Yes, by all the saints.”

  “This sort of day would lead to some very lively conversation, no doubt. Spring is always a good time of year to think of the lighter side of life, don’t you agree?”

  “Oh, yes, of course.”

  “Then I suggest you take a nice, long ride.” Simon threw his car keys to the Knight. “Take my car. It has a wonderful stereo pod, not to mention a sunroof. Better suspension than your truck, I daresay.”

  “Thank you, Brother. This is very generous of you.”

  Louis walked lightly down the steps and got into Simon’s Audi. He cranked it up and drove away. When he looked in the mirror, he saw Simon standing on the steps with his arm around Oriel. She seemed to be crying or some such. Perhaps she had changed her mind about going to the village after all…

  “Brother!” A heavy hand on his shoulder almost knocked him from the bandstand.

  He jumped up and jerked his head around, remembering where he was, and found himself looking into Levi’s excited face.

  “Great God in Heaven! Levi! Levi James!” Louis shouted and hugged his brother-in-law tightly. The music had stopped and the clurichauns were beside themselves babbling and shouting happily. When Louis looked over his brother-in-law’s shoulder, he almost threw him on the ground at the sight of Oriel and Thaddeus, standing only a few feet away, smiling at him.

  Much jumping, hugg
ing, kissing and babbling ensued for several moments until everyone, including all the clurichauns had received an abundance of joyous greetings.

  When the general hubbub had died a bit, the festivities and fussing were again renewed when Konrad and Apolonio returned from the meat locker with a wagon load of lamb shanks.

  After this second round of unbounded bliss, they were breathless. Paddy herded them all to one of the long tables and his cousins supplied them with beer and soft drinks for everyone, while they tried to fill each other in on everything that had been happening.

  At last, Oriel kissed Louis tenderly and broke into uncontrollable weeping. He held her close and shook his head apologetically at her brother and his son.

  “Don’t coddle her overmuch. She should be crying, Brother-in-Law,” Levi said good-naturedly and sat down next to him. “She nearly got me killed.”

  “Oh?” Louis pushed his queen away slight and cupped her chin in his hand. “How could she possibly have done that?”

  “Arguing with Zaguri,” Ereshkigal’s voice cut through the little reunion. “Marduk’s little pet. I wonder how he got back here without his master.”

  “Probably the same way I did,” Nergal said somewhat wistfully and reached into the ice barrel for a bottle cognac. “One minute I’m having a very fine time in the Seventh Gate, and the next, I’m here chasing that Boggan of yours down the meadow like a common thief.”

  “Orri,” Ereshkigal said gently as she approached her daughter very carefully with Plotius close behind her. “Welcome home, my child.”

  “Home?” Orri narrowed her eyes.

  “Yes, well, it’s not exactly what you are used to, but I’d like you to think of it as your home any time you wish to visit.” The Queen took her hands and pulled her away from Louis. Neither of them could protest, and Konrad cleared his throat loudly, reminding Louis to remain calm.

  “So you did all this?” Oriel looked about the meadow in wonder. “For us?”

  “Of course,” the Queen nodded. “What is a mother for? Oh,” she turned toward Levi “I believe there is someone on the bridge who would be happy to see you, son.”