“I’m willing to bet the loose twine is the rein on that horse,” Maeve said quietly.
“Just a second,” said Robert. “I missed this symbol before. It changes the meaning of this line slightly.” He was squinting at the hieroglyphics again. “The weave undone… A loose twine… where horses were brought to gather…” But this symbol here at the beginning makes that whole line a command, and imperative phrase. In effect it would be saying you must undo the weave, the twine must be loosened, where the horses were brought to gather. Damn! It’s telling them what to do in the altered Meridian! How could this scribe know this?”
“Easy,” said Kelly. “People were arriving from the future all the time, carrying scrolls, like that fellow you encountered in the desert. It appears that Hamza is creating more than a record of days there,” he concluded. “He’s archiving a record of the interventions the Assassins make at key points on the Meridians. The dual meaning of these hieroglyphics makes that obvious now.”
“Makes sense,” said Paul. “Let’s admit it, we’ve had a little help from the Order as well. They sent back Mr. Graves, and then this LeGrand fellow with similar information on what we needed to do to alter the history.”
“Well we could certainly use a little help now,” said Robert. “I didn’t like the man, to be honest with you, but where’s LeGrand when you need him?”
“I don’t think we can expect any help this time,” said Paul. “Remember, we’re back on the Prime Meridian now, the line of causality that results in the Palma event in our time. That event strikes a blow at contemporary Western history, and most likely severely weakens the Order. Isn’t that what LeGrand told us? They had twenty Arch complexes, but only two remained after the Palma Heisenberg transformation surged forward to their time. The Assassins get the upper hand, which is probably why they are able to plan and execute this complex mission involving all these points on the Meridian aimed at Charles Martel. Now it’s the Order hounded into caves in remote areas of the world. Perhaps they are still holding out. LeGrand did mention they had an Arch that was very well hidden. But Palma casts an enormous shadow on the Meridian now. It was all they could do to send Graves back to us before that first mission, and that was when they had all twenty Arches operating.”
“And he still missed his target date by seven years,” Kelly reminded them. “He had to wait in a Trappist monastery all that time until the night of our first mission.
“So I doubt if they can get through the Shadow now,” Paul concluded. “It’s up to us then. We’re the last line of defense.”
“Alright,” said Robert. “What do we do?”
“We have to make sure Dodo doesn’t get thrown from the saddle and fall on his ass!” Kelly put it bluntly.
“Where?” said Paul. “Does it say where this happened?”
“Just when,” said Kelly. “The night before the battle. Oh, it’s on the road to Lambert’s estate. Listen: ‘At the citadel, where Pippin held court, he did roil in banquet with his sister, then did Dodo depart to carry out his fell deed and slay the Bishop Lambert.’”
“At the citadel? That would have to be some prominent fortification within a day’s ride of Lambert’s Villa,” said Paul.
“Namur is a possibility,” said Kelly. “Wiki says the Romans built a fort there as early as Julius Caesar. The Merovingian’s improved those fortifications considerably. In fact, the place is still called the Citadel today. You can take tours of all the underground caverns and passages there. And I make it no more than 30 to 40 miles to Liège, Lambert’s Villa at Leodium.”
Nordhausen was looking at the history and quickly had another possible solution. “And there’s also—”
“So Dodo must have stopped for the night somewhere on the old Roman road between the Citadel at Namur and the Villa,” said Paul.
“But it could have been anywhere,” said Robert. “I was going to say that Pippin’s stronghold was at Heristal, just 16 miles north of Lambert’s villa.”
“Well, that’s much closer,” Kelly piped in.
“Probably Heristal, then,” said Maeve. “Does it say where this accident happened?”
“It says it was at a farm.” Kelly put in. “But there’s nothing more specific in this chronicle. If you assume he needed to freshen his mount, then a farm would make sense. They’d have animals.”
“Lord,” Nordhausen breathed. “How can we work up a breaching point with this? At least the location of the battle of Tours was fairly well surmised. But Dodo could have stopped anywhere, on that road, and that’s a lot of ground to cover on foot. Particularly in these shoes,” he pointed. “They’re still a size small, Maeve.”
“Right,” said Maeve. “So don’t worry, Robert, you won’t have to walk, because you aren’t going anywhere.”
“What do you mean? I’m scheduled for the next reconnaissance. We’ve already decided it.”
“Things have changed,” said Maeve. “I’ll have to go in your place.”
“You?” Robert gave her a bemused smile. “Why you couldn’t walk that distance either.”
“I won’t be walking,” Maeve said calmly. “I’ll be riding.”
Chapter 15
Arch Complex, Lawrence Berkeley Labs, Saturday, 8:35 A.M
“Riding?” said Nordhausen. “Are you daft, woman? Riding what?” Nordhausen was quite perturbed. He had been all set for a look at the 8th century and, true to form, his old nemesis, Maeve, was mucking up the brew.
“Riding a horse,” Maeve said quickly. “I can’t very well take a motorbike through, can I?”
“A horse?”
“I’ve kept and ridden horses all my life, Robert. I’ll find something close to the breaching point. You can set me down somewhere on the road. I’ll ride south toward Lambert’s villa.” She folded her arms, ready for a fight that she was determined to win.
Neither Kelly, nor Paul said anything when the professor looked at them for support, but Paul seemed to be thinking hard about the problem.
“Looking for Dodo? This is nonsense,” said Robert. “How will you even know who Dodo is? Are you going to interrogate everyone on that road; stop at every inn and farm you encounter? You…a woman alone on the road?”
“That won’t be necessary,” she said. “I’ll only have to concern myself with those that seem to have horses at hand. That will narrow things down considerably. A horse was expensive to own and maintain in those days. This is why the Franks were largely an infantry force at Tours. Right Paul?”
Paul raised his eyebrows, nodding in the affirmative. “There might only be a few estates or inns on that road that would be keeping horses,” he agreed.
“And what?” Robert was still arguing. “Is she just going to steal the damn thing and ride off looking for this Dodo?”
“No, thievery would be very unwise,” said Maeve. “So I’ll simply buy one.”
“Buy one?” Robert frowned. “I don’t think they’ll be accepting Federal Reserve Notes, Maeve. They’re damn near worthless anyway.”
“Oh, don’t be silly, Robert.” She reached in her pocket and fished out a small nugget that gleamed with the sheen of gold. “I’ll use this!”
Kelly immediately recognized the object. It was a gold nugget the two of them had found together on a hiking trip in the mountains, a rare and special find when they were digging out a pit for a camp fire. It was a token of the bond they had forged, and he realized what Maeve was proposing.
Paul remembered how Maeve had shown the nugget to Kelly when they were reunited here in the lab. She had whispered something to him…Heart of Gold, so he assumed it held some special sentimental value between them.
Maeve looked at Robert. “I think they’ll accept this in payment,” she said. “Gold is gold, then and now, and this will buy me a couple horses, along with bed and board at the finest inn on the road. I’ll take a rock hammer and break it into a few smaller pieces before I leave. It should meet all my needs—and then some.”
“
That it will,” said Paul.
“You mean to say you agree with this?”
“Look, Robert,” Maeve pressed her advantage. “You said yourself that it’s all of sixteen miles or so from Heristal to the Villa.”
“The chronicle says Dodo left after ‘roiling at banquet’ with his sister. When would that be? Sometime around sunset?”
“No,” said Maeve. “The main meal of the day was taken at mid-day, most often at noon or shortly thereafter. It was an ostentatious display of wealth, for those that were well off, and Alpaida certainly was. That’s why she was taken as Pippin’s consort in the first place. The word ‘banquet’ leads me to believe that this was indeed the main meal of the day. It could last hours, so let’s say Dodo finishes up and gets on the road by four or five in the afternoon.”
Nordhausen was listening, clearly upset, but not in disagreement. He knew the history as well as anyone there.
“Around dusk, when we have our main meal today, they just took a light supper, usually eaten right at or after sunset.” Maeve continued. “Folks went to sleep soon after that. It was expensive to illuminate homes with candles in those days. Or even to waste firewood that could be better used for cooking.”
“OK, Dodo leaves the citadel late in the afternoon, or perhaps even closer to dusk.” Paul began to reason the scenario out.
“He was probably planning to ride at night,” said Maeve, “using the cover of darkness to forestall any rumor of his approach. Most dirty deeds were done in the thick of night, eh?”
“We calculated sunset time earlier for Tours in October at about 6:40 PM.,” said Paul. “This is in mid-September, so you’ll have just a tad more daylight. But my question is this. Kelly said this fellow changed mounts at a farm before the planned attack on Lambert. Well, that’s not a great distance for a horse to travel. Why would he need a fresh mount?”
“How fast would he be going?”asked Kelly.
“A horse walks about four miles per hour, but the most common gait on the road would be a trot, about twice that speed. I’d say he could make the 16 miles in two hours, then. Four if they were taking their time.”
“Then he could easily arrive at Lambert’s villa before midnight,” said Paul.
“That’s what the history says,” said Maeve. “Dodo and his retinue arrived ‘around about the middle of the night.’ He probably left at dusk, rode a few hours, then stopped briefly after dark to secure a fresh mount. We don’t know why, or exactly where, but we really don’t need to either. The history says he needed a fresh horse. That’s all we need to know.”
“This is preposterous!” Nordhausen had been listening, shifting restlessly as they talked, but now his disapproval was obvious. “The man could have ridden south from the old Roman town of Tongres, as well. You’re making too many assumptions. That’s what got us in to trouble earlier, and we jumped the gun at Tours.”
“No,” said Paul. “Our reasoning was sound then, but our adversaries pre-empted us with this counter-operation aimed at preventing Lambert’s martyrdom.”
“Well, assuming you do all this, just appear there and find a horse to buy with that gold, then what? How do you plan to stop Dodo from securing this ‘wilful’ horse for himself and having this mishap?”
“Our assumptions are valid here as well,” Maeve argued. “We’ve already selected Heristal as the most likely site for the banquet. Dodo leaves the citadel to approach under cover of darkness, stopping somewhere along the road to change mounts.” She paused, taking a breath as she realized the scope of what she was proposing.
“So I’m going to be on that road as well,” said Maeve.
“Looking for Dodo? Do you realize how dangerous this is going to be?”
“Forget Dodo,” said Maeve. “I’m going to be looking for an Arabian horse, a Kuhaylan, and as the Chronicle states, ‘you shall know him by his eye, and the fire of his hoof, he that felled heathen.’ And believe me, Robert. I know these horses. I can spot an Arabian in a heartbeat, particularly one with a spirited temper. I’ll find him, damnit. One way or another I’ll find that horse.”
The silence was thick. Robert just blinked at her, saying nothing. He knew in his stubborn heart that she, among all of them, was the only one who could possibly pull a mission like this off. She could ride, by day or night, an experienced equestrian. The gold in her hand would buy her anything she desired. And she alone could find and recognize this steed, and somehow prevent it from running afoul of Dodo.
“I hate to say it, but I wouldn’t know an Arabian stallion from a mule,” he confessed at last. “But a woman alone? It just wasn’t done, Maeve. It would be highly irregular. You would be immediately noticed on your own like that, particularly if you had the means of buying a horse.”
Maeve shrugged. “That’s possible, but I’ll be wearing a heavy riding cloak with hood. Yet an escort at the beginning when I bargain for a horse would be welcome. Perhaps someone should accompany me in. Once I secure a mount I’ll have to ride off on my own, and I can just keep to myself as much as possible. So anyone who wants to come along for the entry had better get suited up. And Kelly, you had best run numbers for the 16th of September, 705, mid afternoon. By the time Lambert is killed it would be the 17th, and that date is still celebrated today as the feast of Saint Lambert, marking his death. Put us on the road just south of Heristal. That way I would come to any farm site before Dodo. If I spot the Arabian I’ll propose a trade, my horse for the Kuhaylan. If the owner balks I’ll still have some gold to persuade him.”
She folded her arms.
Robert was still troubled. “Then we’re assuming the Assassins’ operation was to drop in, find a ‘wilful’ steed as this story says, and rig the reins to fail? How could they know Dodo would choose that steed and be thrown from the saddle?”
“Good point,” said Paul. “I mean their whole plan sounds pretty weak.”
“Unless they made sure there was some reason Dodo would need to change mounts,” Maeve suggested. “They could have done something earlier as well. Perhaps they cause injury to one of the hooves on Dodo’s mount at the citadel. The horse would come up lame shortly after he departed, prompting him to look for another mount.”
“That answers my question about why they would need a fresh horse,” said Paul.
“Yes, and it just stacks a few more assumptions onto the pile we already made here to concoct this scenario,” said Robert.
“And here’s one more for you,” said Kelly. “Suppose they are the farmers—the Assassins! It would explain how they could easily rig the reins on this stallion. In fact, they could have prepared this mission for some time, sending someone in to find just the perfect horse and then bringing it to this roadside farm. The fact that it’s an Arabian, ‘one of the five’ as Maeve says, makes this ever so suspicious.”
“Good point,” Paul agreed. “It strengthens the mission from their standpoint, and removes a raft of assumptions they would have to make about this as well. They’ve selected the horse, and they make sure Dodo’s mount is going to come hobbling along as he heads south. I’m willing to bet this horse will be easy to spot, Maeve. They’ll have it tethered at an inviting place, close by the road to catch Dodo’s attention. Deliberate sabotage to force a need for a fresh mount would fill the bill nicely. All they have to do here is find a way to impede Dodo and spare the life of Lambert. So yes, it’s also possible that they will be at the farm site with the Arabian.”
“Which means Maeve may need more than a good offer and a chunk of gold to get that horse,” said Robert. “Assuming, of course, that Dodo and Alpaida were at the citadel in Heristal, and that this was the road Dodo took to Lambert’s villa at Leodium, and that the loose twine was the rein on this Arabian horse we assume is quietly waiting there at a farm for Maeve to find.” The sarcasm in his voice made his point plain enough.
Maeve fixed them all with those steady hazel eyes. “Someone have another suggestion? Yes, Robert, we’re making a lot of assumptions
here, but there is sound reasoning behind them as well.”
“The citadel at Heristal is the most likely candidate for this banquet. In fact it’s the only one close enough to fill the bill. So it’s reasonable to assume we’ve got the correct road. Look, this is as good as we’re going to hone this down given the situation. We won’t have to mess with a Prime. We’ve got the time, we’ve got the place, we’ve got the Arch, and brothers, I’ve got the gold.”
“But you may have to mess with the Assassins if Kelly is correct,” said Paul, an obvious warning in his voice. “Considering the consequences involved here, they may not be as friendly and polite as they have been in our encounters with them thus far.”
“Yes,” Maeve agreed. “It’s going to be dangerous, I know. But I’m willing to do what I can, Paul. What other option do we have?”
“In for a penny, in for a pound,” said Paul. “So we also need to consider what we do if you should fail to find this horse, or carry out any other part of your mission as we envision it here.”
“Well… “ Maeve thought for a moment, her eyes hardening as she spoke.
“You two shift in with me as an escort to pose as a couple of my retainers while I secure a mount near Heristal, perhaps a couple of monks. I head south, and if I don’t return riding that Arabian in a reasonable period of time, then you’ll know what you have to do.”
Robert gave her a bemused look. “Now what have you dreamt up?” he said. “What do we have to do?”
“Why, you have to kill Bishop Lambert,” she said flatly. “If Dodo doesn’t get him, then you’ll have to do it.”
Part VI
The Road
“There are only two mistakes one can make along the road to truth; not going all the way, and not starting.”
— The Buddha
Chapter 16
The Old Roman Road, September 16, 705 ~ 3 P.M.
Anvil of Fate (Meridian Series) Page 13
