The Path of the Templar

by W. Peever

  "I almost lost my composure, and that I do not like. I had thought myself the most powerful Manserian of all, and yet that old man still outwits me. Now my spies inform me that you and your dear mother have involved yourselves with this priest fellow. But, my young nemesis, a graveyard is a very sacred place imbued with very old magic. All your wards and runes are useless here. So imagine my glee to have you trapped here, right where I want you."

  The leader of the Vanari brushed off his hood, his bleached blond hair tossing like that of an ageing, decayed male model. His piercing blue eyes glistened with evil energy out of a sky filled with strange light, and he smiled his depraved smile. "I don't suppose you have changed your mind? No…why would you, after your glorious but fluked victory last year?" He ogled Excalibur with eager eyes. "I see you have your prize trophy with you! How exciting for me—I have always coveted that sword. And what I want, I usually get!"

  Charlie straightened his back, pressed Bailey behind him and extended the sword now gleaming in the moonlight pushing through the clouds. Bailey was having none of that and, stepping forward, notched an arrow on her bow for the first time. They would live or die together.

  "I have not changed my mind, Vali! We will never join you in your bloodlust." Charlie's voice was surprisingly controlled, considering the fear that quaked through his body.

  "You trivialize my endeavors as only a boy who wears the blinders of idealistic youth can. The gray areas are invisible to you, aren't they?" Vali laughed derisively. In an obviously orchestrated move, he placed his hand to his chin, tapping with one finger to feign deep thought. "How about this…since you speak with the simplistic vocabulary of good versus evil, let me translate my epiphanies. If you join with me, I will let your friends live." He smiled that mirthless, evil smile. A shiver of nausea came over Charlie.

  Bailey, her blue gem visibly glowing in her glove, let fly an arrow that flew wildly off course to hit one of Vali's many henchmen in his foot. "My friend's honor will not be traded for my freedom. Bring it on, oh Lord of the lesser Gods!"

  A tittering of disapproval emanated from the graveyard, the minions craving slaughter. "The loyalty bonding this myth of justice is so strong it has led whole armies to their destruction. I do hate to destroy you all, but Gods know when I will have another chance at you, Charlie." Lord Vali turned his back on them, and nodded to one of his servants. "Enter their minds, paralyze them. Bind Charlie and kill the rest."

  "Yes, master." said the voice of a young woman. "Just rest easy, Charlie." Her voice was somehow familiar…then Charlie's mind was so foggy he could hardly remember his own name. The enemies closed the distance between them and the children, now on their knees grasping for reality. A voice in the boy-leader's head told him to fight. But fight what?

  Charlie's mind breached the fog in time to see a sword-wielding figure about to strike Bailey, when the doors of the Church burst open. From out of the yellow glow of the church emerged three knights in full regalia, swords and shields held high as they charged. One with a white tabard and red cross on his breastplate swung his sword and lopped off a head next to the enemy Influencearian, breaking her mental contact with the children. The children, thus released, leapt into battle. Charlie engaged the swordsman stood over Bailey with a strength he didn't know he possessed. Mick fired green energy bolts at cloaked Elementalists who had just caused a tree next to Tillie to erupt into flames. In reply, the girls fired arrows at the oncoming horde, Bailey only pausing to toss gravestones. The battle was bloody and brutal, and just as it appeared to turn they heard the thundering of enemy reinforcements.

  The knight covered in insignia, appearing to be in charge, grabbed Charlie by the arm. "Get into the church! We will keep them at bay. Go!" Charlie grasped Bailey's hand and all four ran for the church. A deafening clash of steel and flash of fireballs chased them to the door. From there they saw the knight throw a glass vial down. A brilliant white light blinded the enemies, allowing the knights to run the fifty yards to the church. Once secured, with ornately jeweled daggers they carved strange runes on the inside of the door. A blue barrier of electricity enveloped the building and the battle noise from outside was silenced.

  The leader was the first to speak. "You are safe as long as you are inside, behind the runes. Relax, Charlie."

  "How do you know my name?"

  The other took off his helmet. "Because I am dating your mother and we had tea this very afternoon."

  "Avery! What…?"

  "So, you four are Manserian. I would never have guessed."

  "You know the Manserian?" asked Mick as shocked as the rest.

  "Welcome to the sanctuary of the Templar."

  The other knights took off their helmets. The older of the two looked a lot like Avery, and the third was a boy maybe fifteen, answering Mick in a very sharp Scottish voice. "Well, let's see, you lot got in a bind and we saved yer hides! Now didn't we? If we had no clue who the Manserian and the Vanari were how would we have done that?"

  "And thank you for that," said Charlie. "We had no idea you were of the Order. Our guard should have told us."

  "Well, Charlie," Avery laughed, "we're not exactly part of the Order, but first things first: introductions, clean up, a change of clothes and a long, long talk. Meet my brother, Caleb, and his son, Colin. I mentioned them over tea this afternoon. Father and son nodded at the foursome as they took off their armor.

  "This is Charlie, son of my lady friend, friends Bailey and Mick, and this must be Tillie. A pleasure."

  Avery led them to the church locker room. "Here are some fresh clothes for you all," he said, pointing to a pile of black sweat shirts and pants and what appeared to be brown monks' robes before exiting.

  All just stared at the door, too shocked and exhausted to allow themselves any reaction. Finally, Bailey collapsed on a long bench. Tillie grabbed Mick and cried into his shirt. He was left to pat her back chummily before she joined Bailey. Charlie spoke wearily.

  "So…I guess my mom really knows how to pick 'em, huh. First my dad, and now these guys who seem to know everything about us. What is it with my mom and secret, coveting men?"

  Mick's ire was up. "Dude, can we even trust this guy? I mean, he didn't come right out and tell us who he was. I knew he was hiding something but…"

  Charlie threw Mick a set of clothes. "Ya, well we didn't exactly confide in him either. Secrecy is big in Manserian Law."

  "How could he not know who you are, Charlie?" Bailey had taken off her wet shirt and stood now in her tank top, looking defiant and vulnerable at the same time. Mick saw that was all she wore and quickly looked at his feet. "Everyone in our world knows Charlie Burrows the world jumper. Maybe he set the ambush up. Ever think of that?"

  Tillie was starting to feel comfortable. "Well, we're here now. We have dry clothes and I like the odds better in this church than out in the graveyard. Four against three is better than four against a hundred or more."

  "Why don't you two go take a shower? Then we'll go and face them."

  The two boys alone, Mick asked, "What do you really think?" as he wiped bloody mud stains from his forehead.

  Charlie splashed water on his face. "I think Avery has a lot of explaining to do, but my gut trusts him."

  "Well if it's as empty as mine I'm not surprised. My gut's growling for me to trust him too." Mick tossed him a clean undershirt and black sweats.

  "Wow, I'm swimming in these."

  "Yeah, a small fry like you. They're just right for a normal-size guy." Mick smiled for the first time that night, and joined Charlie to wash.

  "What do you think their powers are?" came the echoing voice of Bailey from the shower room. "I mean they must be Manserian, right?" She emerged with Tillie in tow from around the eggshell tiled wall, looking as if she was going to a party. Bailey had somehow turned the outfit into her own unique expression of fashion by rolling the sweatpants up to look like Capri pants, and foregoing the cloak.

  "You girls clean up nice." Mick s
aid awkwardly. "So what do you think?" Bailey asked Charlie.

  Charlie was caught on the back foot. "About your outfits? Oh no…the other thing…uh, powerful powers, no doubt about it.

  "I'm being serious. Avery as good as admitted to not being Manserian. They didn't use a single one of our powers but obviously know all about our world."

  "Very true, Bailey." The voice came from behind them. "That's summed us up very well." Avery was leaning against the door, down to his gray cloak but still with his sword hanging from a thick leather belt. "We are technically not Manserian, but we do have a lot to talk about. Come,"

  They followed Avery down limestone stairs that spiraled to a basement. The granite and mortar staircase was so tight at times that Mick had to turn to squeeze his caveman shoulders by. "This staircase was built by the priests who first worshipped here." Avery's voice echoed up the stairs. "That was 1689—one of the oldest churches in New England."

  "I thought it burned down in the 1800s," said Charlie, a catch of skepticism in his voice.

  "Ah, yes," Avery amended. "The wooden structure did, of course, burn to the ground. But the stone chambers and these steps remained, and they built the current church around them." The stairs opened up and ended in a cavernous stone room. The walls were covered floor to ceiling with dark brown shelves crammed with hundreds of ancient dusty books with gray and green bindings. In the center was a rough, wooden planked table with silver candlesticks at either end providing the only light in the room. Now Charlie thought about it there were lit candles all the way down the staircase.

  "What happened to the lights, Avery?" Charlie enquired.

  "When Caleb activated the security runes everything inside was cut off from everything outside," Avery answered. "The Vanari cannot gain entry, but neither can electricity, phone…"

  "Or satellite tv." Colin slipped past them and threw his sword belt on the table, its weapon clanging noisily. "Fine time for you lot to pop by for a visit—American Idol is on now, you know, and it's the results show." Colin plopped himself down on one of the high-backed wingchairs and hoisted his black-leather booted feet up on to the table. "How will I ever know if the girl with the bad teeth makes it to the next round?"

  "Colin, a little less casual…" Avery said, and the boyman lowered his feet with an acknowledging grunt. "My nephew means 'Welcome.'" Colin crossed his arms and looked at the new kids like they were a chronic annoyance already.

  Avery continued. "Please everyone make yourselves comfortable in the space Colin has allowed and we will explain everything."

  Charlie and his friends sat, wary of the larger, aggressive boy.

  "First, what brought you out to see me? I'm sure you're aware the underworld can pull the unsuspecting through the veil of our worlds at midnight. Were you Manserian novices out Ghost hunting?"

  Charlie had decided on the direct approach, to maybe prod this smooth-talking priest into a mistake. "No, we were coming to ask you why you held out on us about the puzzle box. You know what is inside! You know what it leads to."

  "Yes, that's true," said Avery in a flat matter-of-fact tone. "And I am very impressed you know what is inside— and at the same time very disturbed."

  Caleb's gruff voice came from the shadows. "That's why Vali sent so many here. They are watching you, boy. When you figured it out, so did Vali. We need to move the box, Avery—tonight."

  Charlie stood up from the table knocking his chair back. "Why didn't you tell us what the box was?"

  "I had no idea that you were Manserian, boy. Your mother certainly is not, and I cannot just go tell some boy and his friends that I am the knight in charge of keeping the lost language of the Druids secret, in hopes." Avery took a breath. "Let's start at the beginning—a short history lesson. How much do you know about ancient Babylon? Not much—all right." He sat down, poured a class of water from a pitcher and took a few swallows.

  "Back around 4000 BC the King of Scythia—Iran— was one of 72 chieftains who erected the Tower of Babel, in Babylon, in honor of the gods. But their worshippers all spoke different languages. The King invented a runic-based language enabling the tribes to speak with each other. He named it Goidelic and had the symbols carved on the stones of the Tower with translations in the 72 tribal languages.

  Goidelic was an overwhelming success in diplomacy, trade, military alliances. But as the people bonded and grew rich and powerful they began to forget the Gods. After all, when all is well, why pray and make sacrifices? Gone were the delicious aromas of burning animals that the Gods loved so much, sent up to them in Asgard; gone were prayers and promises sent in times of need, and gone were the great churches built to honor their Gods. This lack of attention angered the gods, causing Odin to act. He struck down the great Tower of Babel, crushing the once proud icon to the ground. Floods and plagues destroyed Babylon and the people scattered across the globe.

  The sands of time covered the ruined city, and the people who ran soon forgot how to speak and write Goidelic—that is, except the holy men of the Tower who fled to the island of Britain. They traveled for over a year in unimaginable conditions to reach it, for they had heard tell of a powerful mystic race of monks who resided there called the Druids. They were devout, embodying what the Babylonian priests had forgotten, and understood the gods like no other people. The Druids took in the Babylonians, and in turn the Babylonians taught the monks Goidelic, the now forbidden language. It was passed down and when the holy men left them the Druids took their powers and blessed this secret language so that the runes that made up the alphabet of Goidelic could embody and control their abilities. This is why all Manserian objects have a power rune on them. Mick, your staff has the runes of healing and of energy, which is why you can both heal and channel energy bolts through it. Bailey, yours is the rune of strength of mind, hence you move things with your mind. And Charlie…"

  Avery paused. "Come to think about it Charlie, I did not see you use an ability. Care to explain why?"

  "Yes," said Charlie in between bites of cheese and bread Colin had brought them. "But after you are done."

  "Quite right. Here." Avery pushed the jug of water and a silver goblet towards Charlie.

  "So the runes were formed, and the Gods left our world for their war with the lesser gods, leaving the Druids to watch over humanity." He looked at the children over his goblet. "I'm sure they taught you the beginnings of the Order so I'll jump ahead. In 1066, as every schoolboy knows, still, I hope, the Normans invaded Britain. Among much other destruction, they went about eradicating the last remaining Druids. A small cadre of knights befriended a group of Druids hiding in caves by Hadrian's Wall and kept their location a secret. The knights supplied the Druids and in return learned about the Order, their special use of the runes under powers granted by the Gods. They also told the knights they had lost the ability to read the language of the strange runes."

  "The Druids told stories of Merlin's adventures long into the night, how he once used the great standing stones of Stonehenge to travel to other lands. The knights were intrigued by these stories, and asked the Druids why they had not used the circle of stones to escape the Norman invasion. Of course, they could not because it was the untranslatable Goidelic runes that powered Stonehenge. If the ruins of Babel could be found, the mysteries of these runes could be unlocked. The knights, hearing this, bowed down before the Druids and pledged their loyalty, swearing they would form a brotherhood dedicated to finding the Babel stones and bringing them back to the Druids. By 1099 the knights had recruited over two hundred to their order. They called themselves the Knights Templar, and among them was William de Sancto Claro, my ancestor."

  "The Knights Templar joined the First Crusade to the Holy Land under the premise of fighting for Christ, but instead were on a Quest for the Babel Stones—for themselves." Avery bent close to the table and whispered. "And they found them. They found the original stones with Goidelic translated in every language. They spirited them away to France—Castle Templar—an
d kept them there till the Pope, who had learned about their worshipping of false Gods, sent out…"

  Charlie interrupted him. "Mick told us all about that —Friday the Thirteenth and all."

  Avery looked at Mick, half impressed. "The Da Vinci Code?" Mick nodded. "Damn you, Tom Hanks! That was the meat of the story. If it's not Tom Hanks it's Mel Gibson giving the game away. "Shall I guess you learned the rest of the story from Braveheart?" Again Mick nodded, feeling more and more pleased with himself, even in this high company.

  "Great…" said Avery, sounding a little deflated. "There is not much more to tell. In 1345 my ancestor Henry St Clair is born into Templar life. In 1370 he takes the Templars' treasure and the Babel Stones out of Scotland to the New World. Over the next ten years they lay down clues to rediscover the blocks of Babel along the New England coast—hoping someday the right member of the Order would understand Merlin's last request and find the stones. Henry would return to Britain in 1456 and give grandson William St Clair a unique tool in a puzzle box— telling him how to open it. The box and the combination would be passed down through the generations so that when the time was right it could be opened and the stones used for the right purposes."

  "But why hide them?" Charlie blurted out. "Why not just give them to the Order? It was alive and well in the 1300s."

  "Mortals were beginning to fear Manserian—witches, as they called them—and the Church was bent on wiping those of us who still had faith in the Gods off the face of the Earth. The Templar decided the secret was better hidden."

  "Well, we need it unhidden now. Come back to Thornfield. We can unlock the secret to turn the tide on the Vanari—win the war. It will save so many lives!"