by D. N. Carter
“Who was that?” Paul asked and started to button up the front of his cape as the first misty drops of rain started to blow in.
“Oh he was a knight, with a sword very similar to yours,” Theodoric replied and indicated Paul’s sword. “You are of course more than aware of the legends of King Arthur and the sword in the stone…well according to the various versions of the story, the sword could only be pulled out of the stone by the true king of England. You know it symbolically represents drawing knowledge and wisdom from the stone, as in an initiate who is able to understand the codes written within the Giza pyramids,” Theodoric explained and tied his robe around himself tighter as the wind picked up. “Well, my friend, a similar, though much less well-known, story can be found in the Italian region of Tuscany. It was in part the inspiration for the English legend. This is the sword in the stone of San Galgano. Believe it or not ’twas San Galgano who was the first saint to be canonised through a formal process by the Church. There is much of his life known through the documents of this canonisation process, which was carried out just last year in 1185.”
“But I have never heard of him before,” Paul replied.
“No not many have. ’Tis funny how coincidences and events repeat themselves, which is what he did.”
“So who is he?”
“Well he was born in 1148 in Chiusdino. His mother is recorded as Dionisia, whilst his father’s name is said to be Guido or Guidotti. San Galgano was only concerned with worldly pleasures in his early life. As a noble, he was a knight trained in the art of war, and was arrogant as well as violent. Just like Reynald no less. All that changed, however, and he subsequently became a hermit.”
“Why did he become a hermit?”
“He had a vision of the Archangel Michael, who, incidentally, is commonly depicted as a warrior saint. In one version of the legend, the Archangel Michael appeared before him, and showed him the way to salvation. The archangel even told the saint the place that he should go. The next morning, San Galgano declared he was going to become a hermit, and would reside in a nearby cave. He was ridiculed by his friends and family, who thought he had lost his mind. His mother managed to convince him to visit his fiancée for the last time before renouncing all worldly pleasures. On his way there, the saint’s horse suddenly reared, and he was thrown off its back. An invisible force lifted him onto his feet, and a heavenly voice led him to Montesiepi, a hill close to Chiusdino. When he reached the foot of the hill, he was told to stand still and look to the top, where he saw his vision of a round temple with Jesus and Mary surrounded by the twelve Apostles. The voice told him to climb the hill, and the vision faded. When he reached the top the voice spoke again, commanding him to renounce all his worldly desires but he objected, saying that this was as easy as splitting stones with a sword. To prove his point he drew his sword, and thrust it into a stone. Much to his surprise the weapon went through the stone with ease. It has been stuck in the stone ever since. But at least he understood the message loud and clear, and lived on Montesiepi as a hermit. Several years after San Galgano’s death, a round chapel was built there with the sword in the stone as its main attraction. The chapel was just completed this year and the sword is still firmly stuck within the stone.”
“As I have oft heard, myth can be true and myth can become real,” Paul said and stood up as the rain began to spit harder. “Will anyone draw that sword out?”
“No…well no one should at any rate as it will stand to a testament for later generations.”
“Why and how do you know such things?”
“’Tis my business to know…plus your father keeps me abreast of such matters. Ask him next time you see him about the part Kratos played in this tale,” Theodoric said and winked and stood up just as a flash of lightning lit up the horizon as the approaching storm drew nearer. A few seconds later a deep rumbling sounded out.
“I best go and make sure Arri does not wake for he hates thunderstorms,” Paul remarked and turned away from Theodoric. “Good night,” he called as he left the balcony.
Theodoric turned to face the oncoming storm.
“Dear Lord, give me the extra strength I need to deal with whatever comes next,” he said quietly, clasped his hands together, and closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. When he opened them he caught sight of a ship setting sail to leave into the storm. This surprised him and he squinted to see if he could recognise the banners and flags being flown, but it was too dark and too far away.
Paul gently eased Arri’s door open to allow the light from the main corridor lanthorn to shine inside. He squinted his eyes to focus upon Arri’s pillow but he could not see him. Quietly he stepped inside thinking Arri had snuggled down beneath his covers. As he drew nearer he could see his bed was empty. Quickly he looked over the bed to see if he was lying upon the cool floor as he sometimes did. He was not there. ‘He must be in with Alisha,’ he thought and made his way to his own chambers. Inside Alisha was soundly asleep. Puzzled Paul went and checked Ailia’s room. Her bed was also empty. His heart beginning to pound he hurried back down the upper corridor passing Theodoric fast.
“What is it?” Theodoric asked and began to follow him.
“The children are not in their beds,” he replied anxiously.
“They must be with Lucy then,” Theodoric replied and immediately began to follow Paul down the stairs.
Paul hurried along the downstairs corridor and opened the door into the main dining area and kitchen. It was dark save for a single ceramic oil burner on the edge of the table. Paul looked around noticing the main rear door was open slightly. As he went to walk around the table he tripped over something and fell forwards upon his elbows hard. As he turned around, in the dim light he could make out a body face down. As he went to sit up, his hand felt the cold sensation of a sticky fluid. It was blood, he knew instantly. Theodoric rushed around and stopped in his tracks as he looked down at Paul and the body. His eyes widened in terror as recognition registered across his distraught face. It was Lucy. Theodoric fell to his knees, his mouth open in shock not sure whether he should move her or not. Paul sat himself up and gently went to move her as Theodoric grabbed the small oil burner and moved it nearer. Blood glistened all down her shawl and dress, her hands fixed holding her throat. As Paul eased her up slowly, Theodoric shaking, the flame of the burner nearly going out, she suddenly let out a slight cough and blinked. Theodoric let out a huge sigh of relief and moved so that he could help support her. In horror he saw that her throat had been cut from her chin downwards across her neck. She had lost a lot of blood.
“I can still breathe,” she said in a broken dry voice still clutching her throat tightly trying to stem the blood loss. “The babies…they took the babies,” she blurted out.
Paul’s heart stopped, then thumped back with a massive wave of force that made his head feel like it expanded. He jumped to his feet and ran to the back door. He reached outside and grabbed the alarm bell chain and started to ring it as fast and as furious as he could. Theodoric tried to lift Sister Lucy up but could only manage to help her sit part propped up against the main table leg. Paul rushed outside as Theodoric tore a strip from his own clothes and pushed it up hard against the wound in Sister Lucy’s neck and throat. Alisha came running in, saw them both on the floor and rushed over to them.
“They have taken the babies,” Theodoric choked emotionally.
Alisha’s eyes widened in panic and she stood up instantly looking around both confused and full of anger. Sister Lucy weakly raised her hand, covered in her own blood and tried to hand Alisha a small scroll.
Paul ran out toward the main side gate. The two Mamluk guards on sentry duty came running toward him barely recognisable in the dark and heavy rain lashing down. Thomas and Luke came running out from their quarters swords already drawn, closely followed by Mathew and the others.
“They have taken Arri and Ailia!” Paul shouted out in panic just as lightning lit up the whole area in a brilliant flash and thu
nderous roar.
“They cannot have gotten far in this storm as it is directly over us,” Thomas shouted back as Adrastos snorted and kicked in the nearby covered stable.
Paul looked at the floor for any signs of footprints but the ground was awash with rain water. His heart was beating fast and a sense of total panic and helplessness was beginning to overwhelm him. Not his children… please no, he begged silently, his heart breaking. Thomas took one look at him and grabbed him by the shoulders.
“Paul…we shall find them…I swear it and we shall kill the bastards who have taken them….do you hear me, man?” Thomas shouted.
Paul felt as if his body was going to fail and collapse beneath him, the rain feeling like it was also battering him down further. Luke ran off toward the exit taking with him Mathew and the others as the two Mamluks looked on in surprise.
“Only your Brother Matthew and his companion have entered and left this night,” the nearest Mamluk stated, looking confused.
“Brother Matthew….are you sure, man?” Thomas shouted as another roll of thunder echoed out and lightning flashed across the entire night sky.
“Ali?” Paul said suddenly realising he had not woken her. He turned and ran back toward the house.
Paul burst through the door and stopped seeing Alisha preparing the medical kit on the main table, a lanthorn now lighting up the room better. Sister Lucy lay flat on the main table being comforted by Theodoric as he bravely tried not to cry and show his total terror. Paul was surprised to see Alisha looking so calm. She turned and looked up at him as he stood in the doorway, soaked, looking utterly helpless.
“I will need you to fetch the physician….,” she simply and calmly stated.
“What…but Ali…the children,” Paul exclaimed, utterly bemused.
“They are fine…for now,” she calmly stated, picked up the small rolled scroll and gently threw it to Paul. He caught it and started to unfurl it, confused. “’Tis a note from Turansha. He has them.”
Paul felt as if a physical stake was being driven through his chest and for a moment he could not breathe. His eyes transfixed upon the words written on the scroll. He felt like he was about to utterly fall apart, yet Alisha was calmly carrying on and sorting things for Sister Lucy. He blinked and shook his head in surprise at her behaviour and apparent calmness. Little did he realise just how fragile and close she actually was to falling down in a thousand emotional broken pieces, which she knew herself would not help Sister Lucy nor her children. With his hands shaking Paul began to read the note. He felt sick beyond anything he had ever felt before.
“They must have left upon that ship I saw leaving…,” Theodoric commented as he comforted Sister Lucy.
“In this storm?” Paul blurted out.
“They will be fine,” Alisha said quietly yet reassuringly.
“Fine!” Paul shouted, anger now filling his veins and head.
Sister Lucy opened her eyes and tried to speak but she could not. Theodoric wiped her forehead and gently stroked her, tears in his eyes. Sister Lucy indicated with her eyes that he read the note.
Shaking uncontrollably Paul tried to look at the now blood covered note. Alisha walked over to him, placed her hands upon his and looked at him intently. As his eyes met hers, he could not help but feel humbled in her presence. Her eyes showed sheer determination and a strength he had never seen before. As her hands clutched his ever tighter, her stare not faltering once from his eyes, he stopped shaking. Overwhelmed with concern for Arri and Ailia he started to cry, the tears falling down his cheeks uncontrollably.
“We shall get them back, do you hear me?” Alisha stated softly. “Do you hear me?” she repeated. Paul nodded silently in agreement. “Just pray tell me you understand the message.”
Paul stepped away from her and toward the lanthorn so he could read clearly. As he rolled it flat on the table near to Sister Lucy he began to read the cryptic message half crying and half laughing that at least he did understand the message. Thomas rushed in soaking wet and dripping rain water all over the floor. Out of breath he stood shaking his head no.
“Fear not, Thomas…I know where they are going and why,” Paul said emotionally and held up the note. As he did his eye caught sight of Arri’s horse, Clip clop, lying on the floor with some of Sister Lucy’s blood on it. Slowly he knelt down and picked it up. As tears filled his eyes again, he fought to control himself. Alisha gulped hard and tears finally welled in hers seeing Clip clop. Paul seeing her like that cut him like a knife. “I swear we will get them back,” he swore through gritted teeth. “I swear it.”
Port of La Rochelle, France, Melissae Inn, spring 1191
“I am going to cry,” Ayleth said emotionally and wiped her eyes.
“You and me both, my woman,” Sarah said softly and held out her hand for hers.
“Well come on…did Sister Lucy die or what?” the Genoese sailor asked impatiently.
“I wish to know what the cryptic note said,” Gabirol said.
“What does cryptic mean?” Simon asked the Templar quietly.
“It means that unless you understand the meanings behind the words, then they are just words. If you do, then the words can tell you something that others will not understand,” the old man answered. “As for Sister Lucy…yes she survived. She had disturbed the man as he carried both Arri and Ailia through the kitchen. He had tied them and gagged them as well as wrapped them in horse blankets.”
“Was it one of Turansha’s assassins?” Peter asked.
“No, a trained assassin would have definitely killed Sister Lucy with a thrust directly into her throat, not sliced across it. No gurgling, silent and a swift death… no, when this man tried to cut her throat, she knew she could not fight against his overwhelming strength so she pushed her chin down as hard as she could against her chest, but even then the knife cut deep into her chin and down across her throat and neck. ’Twas a true miracle it did not cut her actual throat or main blood veins in her neck…,” the old man explained and paused for a moment. “She played dead as he then stuffed the note into her hand, picked one of the children up and left in silence with his companion carrying the other.”
“My Lord, that showed some presence of mind for sure,” the farrier remarked.
“I think I would have gone mad if my children had been stolen,” the wealthy tailor said, shaking his head in disbelief. “I would not cope.”
“Why did the children not wriggle or squirm and make a noise?” the Hospitaller asked.
“Because he had drugged them earlier so knew full well they would not resist or make any noise. When he left walking past the two Mamluk guards with two horse blankets, one under his arm the other across his horse, his companion beside him, it did not look out of place.”
“Who exactly was this man and companion?” the Templar asked.
“I shall come to that shortly…but here, here is the very note,” the old man answered and took out a small blood stained scroll from inside his robe. He pushed it across the table toward the Templar. “Please…read it if you will aloud.”
The Templar unfurled the note and flattened it out to read.
“It says…If you wish to have your children returned unharmed, you must give me the location and method of entry to that which is known as the Chambers of Creation. Bring the plans to the place we know of as written in Deuteronomy 3. To the stones where King Og of Bashan, the last of the great Refaim was attacked and defeated and that which the Sidonians call ‘Sirion’. There amid the stones on the night of the 25th of November by your calendar they shall be. Come alone. Failure will result in their immediate execution. As your friend always, I keep my word, Turansha.”
“Some sick bastard fuck friend!” the Genoese sailor exclaimed angrily. “Sorry,” he quickly apologised.
“Did Paul know what that meant?” Ayleth asked hesitantly.
“Of course…Turansha knew exactly what he was doing,” the old man replied.
“Then pray tell us w
here this place is and why?” Gabirol asked.
“’Twas northeast of the Sea of Galilee…many weeks’ travel away from them…”
“How did Turansha know all about the Halls of Amenti or Chambers of Creation, whatever they were?” Simon asked.
“Years previously when Nyla was murdered…remember one of the assassins escaped and took with him parchments that Paul had drawn up and clues…,” the old man answered.
“Oh dear Lord…so as he was warned not to for if he did there would be dire consequences by that woman beneath the pyramids,” Ayleth remarked.
“Yes…and Paul knew and felt this intently. ’Twas a guilt that hit him hard from the minute he read that note,” the old man explained sadly. “I think it was that sense of guilt that fed his growing anger as they made plans to set sail and get to the place in question without delay.”
“So where is this place?” the Templar asked, lifting the note up.
“’Twas as it said…at a great stone circle where in the Bible it states that King Og of Bashan, the last Refaim…or giant as we would know him, was defeated. ’Tis a place of great antiquity many thousands of years old. Its significance was clearly not lost on Turansha for he knew it was connected with Sirius and thus the Halls of Records. It is situated in a place Abi had had to retrieve an ancient artefact from years previously…you would probably know it as being not far from Mount Hermon…but to all Sidonians, as Sirion,” the old man sighed.
“I have heard of this Giant King Og. His iron bedstead is kept at Rabbah. It measures thirteen and a half feet in length and six feet wide,” the Hospitaller explained as he took the note from his brother and read it.
“Why travel so far and to such a place?” Sarah asked, puzzled.
“Because it was land Turansha knew well and it was close to his own lands and men. But as there are several places that have been mistaken or claimed to be Gilgal, Turansha knew he had to make it obvious which one he was talking about and Paul would know without any doubt,” the old man replied.