The Cistercian Conspiracy

by Gill Jepson

  “We don’t know any more than you – except Rebecca is changing…”

  “What do you mean?” asked George.

  “She’s forgotten about the chalice… John Stell said that it was Dixon’s conjuring whatever that means,” answered Rob.

  *

  Nate was wandering into the trees. The others followed close behind.

  “This is a funny place,” he said.

  He glanced around. Sandstone rocks broke through the grass, cracked and uneven. They investigated closely, discovering that the stone had at some time been worked or quarried. There were tools marks on the face of some of the rocks.

  “Wow! This must have been where they took some of the stone from to build the Abbey,” cried Nate. He clambered over the rocks and began looking closely. The quest forgotten for a moment he knelt to look more closely at something he had discovered.

  “Look… it’s a carving… I can’t believe I have never been up here before… it’s amazing!”

  *

  The boys looked at what he had found and a strange face leered at them from the rock face, its features ugly and contorted as though in terrible torment. Something about it made Rob shudder. It was evil and reminded him of the gargoyle creatures they had encountered in the night.

  “Look! There’s another one… and a third!” Nate was astonished at the clarity of the features. One was snarling like a cornered wild animal the lips curled back revealing sharp little teeth, eyes narrowed in a spiteful scowl, the third was even more unnerving. Its visage was one of pure evil, deep grooves and lines driven into the contours of the cheeks, the jaws were frozen in a terrible howl, the sound forever frozen into silence.

  *

  A hum of energy crackled through the cold air and their nerve endings tingled. A malevolent atmosphere descended and the glowering clouds seemed to suffocate the sky. The stark trees reached out like black claws threatening and dangerous. Without warning Nate reached to touch the last carving. As he did so a crack of unseasonal thunder rumbled in the distance. The small wood shook and quivered in anticipation. Birds fell silent. George and Rob cried out as he drew nearer to the image. Too late. Their cries were strangled in their throats. His flesh connected with the stone and as it did so a dreadful flash lit up the hillside its pure energy flinging them like rag dolls into the air. They each landed with a thud, the wind forced from them and momentarily stunning them.

  *

  When they came to, they were dazed and drained of all energy. Their life force had been devoured leaving them empty. Rob stood up first and reached down, pulling George up by the hand. They turned to Nate. It was clear that he had suffered more than they. He was dazed and his eyes were wild and startled. His unruly hair was standing on end as though he had experienced an electrical shock. He looked at them with confusion.

  “Are you ok, bro?” asked Rob, concerned.

  “Er… I’m not sure… what happened?” he whispered huskily.

  He got to his feet shakily and staggered.

  “Whoa! I feel a bit odd… I’m gonna go home Rob!”

  “We’ll come with you…” he began.

  Nate’s forehead creased in a frown.

  “We? What you on about?”

  With that he walked straight past George without acknowledging him. George raised an eyebrow.

  “See ya Nate…” George’s voice trailed away as it became evident that Nate could no longer see him.

  The boy walked away from them and unlocked his bike, riding away without a backwards glance.

  “What’s that all about? It’s like he doesn’t know you!”

  George shook his head sadly.

  “I’m afraid he doesn’t. I think you’ll find he has forgotten his quest just as Rebecca has. That carving is evil and he has unlocked something lying dormant inside it.”

  “Oh no! What can we do now? That only leaves you and me to find the chalice. Will they be ok? Can we get them to remember again?” The questions tumbled out.

  “How am I supposed to know? I’m only a kid! You’re talking like I’m your dad or something!” George shouted.

  Rob was startled. Something was happening to George too. He was obviously unaware of his relationship to them… not that Rob had ever been a hundred percent convinced of it anyway.

  The young lad looked startled for a moment, his blue eyes round like saucers and brim full of tears. He stared uncomprehending and confused. He tried to speak but the words were jumbled. Rob gulped. This was like Granddad had been when he had the stroke. It couldn’t be happening to George at his young age could it? Then he thought about what the old monk had said … “In his time he has had an illness of the mind and is not yet cured. We can use his dream state to bring him through time to aid thee.” Maybe this was to do with this…

  As he looked on in concern the little boy paled and flickered, his young face melting into his older one… Granddad! It was uncanny to see this change in front of his very eyes. The young George returned and faded like an underexposed picture. A snap of white energy and he was gone. Back to square one Rob thought. Nothing could be done now. He had gone. No doubt he would return. He looked ruefully at the stones and the hideous faces. They were somehow to blame for this latest turn of events and he would have to try to lessen he effect. He rode away from the abbey slowly, his legs leaden and heavy. He reached the turning into his road and was relieved to see Nate’s bike propped against the garage door. However, his relief was short lived when he went inside the house. Both his siblings were prostrate on the settee, one at each end, white as a pair of hospital sheets and shivering.

  *

  They were in a fitful sleep and their skin was as cold and white as alabaster. As the shivering subsided, the stillness of their bodies was eerie – like the carved effigies you found in churchyards or… abbeys. He panicked as he looked at them. What was wrong with them? Fear rose in his throat and he shouted for his mother to come quickly.

  She appeared at the door and worry was etched on her face too. She moved towards him and clamped her hand across his brow to check his temperature.

  “Are you feeling ok? I’ve called for the doctor… I think these two have a virus or something.”

  The words died in his throat. Whatever was wrong with his brother and sister, it was almost certainly not a virus.

  This was down to him now. He had to find the chalice. This was the only way to save them from whatever had struck them down so suddenly. George was ill too, in his time –this he knew and who could guess when he would be able to travel back to help? There was only one person he could think of to help… but how would he be able to reach a long dead mayor… and friend? James was the only answer – he would have to summon him up somehow. He did not know where or how, he just knew he had to do it. Before it was too late… before he was out of time!

  CHAPTER 18

  ALL MIXED UP

  The doctor had been and declared that the household was stricken with a ‘nasty virus’. Wasn’t that what they always said when they didn’t know? The two patients were put to bed and Mum was advised to make sure they drank plenty of fluids. Rob had spent the night back and forth between the two bedrooms, nervously looking for improvement. He had found none. They slept deeply and silently barely moving. He stood chewing his thumbnail watching from the doorway of Rebecca’s room. He was worried to the point of nausea. Eventually, he gave in and went to bed. He drifted into an unsettled sleep, tossing and turning and wrestling with the quilt. Finally, his subconscious mind took over and he drifted into a deep dreamlike state.

  *

  He sank into the strange world of unreality, a happy escape from the terrible state of affairs he currently found himself in. He was in the middle of a beautiful sunken garden the perfume of the roses was heady and intoxicating. He could feel the warm sun’s rays on his skin and his spirits were light and carefree as on any summer’s day. He knew where he was instantly. Abbot’s Wood – James’ house. He walked lightly almost floating
above the path. He speeded up as he reached the door to the house. It opened before him and he floated into the hallway. He found himself in the drawing room among the maps and the papers, the remains of an afternoon tea tray on the table. His heart leapt for joy as he saw the back of a man, slightly balding but strong and in his early thirties. He turned around to greet Rob.

  *

  “What errors have been made my old friend?” he said.

  His broad face was edged with spectacular whiskers, creating a distinguished look, the surprised arched eyebrows were raised even more today and his nut-brown eyes were dulled with sadness.

  “We lost the chalice. Silas stole it while we slept… and Nate and my sister are dreadfully ill and George too… there is only us now.”

  “I am here but for a brief moment Rob, I can but try to come to you when you are wakened, but time is twisted so I do not know when.”

  “We never thought we would see you again.”

  “You should not have seen me more. We had visited through my lifetime and it was spent, but now time is wrong and changes are being made which must be reversed. We must set our minds to finding the chalice once more – though this time we have now clues, no assistance!”

  “Where can we look? John Stell the monk said the chalice is only powerful close to the abbey, so that must mean it is hidden nearby?”

  “We must seek the chalice when you are fully woken… this is not the real world. This is a world built on imaginings and dreams, a counterfeit world which is unreliable…”

  Rob looked down in disappointment.

  James moved towards him kindly. He put his hands on his shoulders and looked sternly into his eyes.

  “Never give in… it seems challenging today, but we will overcome and rise above it… ‘semper sursum’ – remember – always rising – we will overcome!”

  Rob smiled. ‘Semper sursum’ was the Latin motto Ramsden had chosen for Barrow.

  As the two smiled at each other the room lost definition and a grey blankness descended. James drifted away slowly and Rob felt his consciousness being wrenched back to his earthly body. With a violent slam he returned and awoke. Every cell of his body burned and pained him and he gasped for breath as surely as if he had been drowning. Unwanted tears spilled down his cheeks and he was overcome with an overwhelming melancholy. He was back and there was work to do.

  *

  He lay on the bed breathing rapidly and his T-shirt was damp with sweat. This had been no normal dream; he had been transported from his own body. He showered and got ready to resume the search. He looked in on Nate and Rebecca they were still sleeping a heavy and unnatural sleep. Mum didn’t seem too worried now they had seen the Doctor explaining that the best cure for a virus was lots of rest. Rob didn’t say anything but he knew that they would not get better until the chalice was returned.

  *

  He took the car this time and drove up to Abbot’s Wood and parked. He did not relish the walk through the quiet wood. It seemed particularly lonely today. The muddy paths were edged with decaying leaves and the undergrowth was tangled and matted. The stillness was unnerving and he was compelled to look over his shoulder to check he was not being followed. He carried on towards the rear of the wood along the main path. Suddenly he heard a faint fluttering and spun around quickly. A solitary magpie alighted on the high branch of a sycamore tree. He stared at it, willing it to fly away. Rob trudged onwards, past the remnants of the Precinct wall, ivy covered and worn. He started to jog, he didn’t know why but he felt safer. The quicker he ran the better he felt, until he was running as though his life depended on it. He broke away from the path and into the trees. He caught glimpses of the abbey below, nestled in the valley, resting quietly like an old lady in her chair.

  *

  As he ran on the weather began to change. Clouds reeled in from the sea and the skies darkened. The hairs on the back of Rob’s neck prickled, warning him of imminent danger. He felt vulnerable on the pathway and he veered off into the trees. As he ran the branches clawed at his clothes and the wind whipped up fiercely. He was as alert and as nervous as a hunted fox. His hoody caught on brambles and he pulled the fabric roughly away, as he managed to release it he stumbled and unexpectedly a frantic flapping of wings rose in front of him, causing him to lose his balance completely. He protected his face with his arms as the beating wings caught him full on. He managed to roll forwards into the undergrowth, falling into a small passage way. He jumped to his feet and ran rapidly down the path. He ran faster and faster, not knowing where he was going, deeper into the wood, until the trench curved into a more obvious passage.

  *

  Ahead lay a bridge across the channel. The woods shimmered and sparked. He knew by now something was happening. A rattling and pounding noise arose from the right of the bridge and four black horses thudded across, drawing a coach behind them. He was astounded. It sped towards the direction he had come from and he caught a glimpse of the passengers. It was James and his wife. Rob ducked quickly beneath the bridge so he would not be seen. He continued down the track way, which was now more defined and well used. He soon reached the back of the house, it was clear that the track was designed to keep the servants and tradesmen out of view from the big house. Indeed he noticed a familiar figure walking towards him, carrying a basket. It was Miss Sheriff. She was more smartly dressed than the first time he had seen her and slightly older.

  *

  “What are you doing here? I thought we had seen the last of you when you disappeared so quickly.”

  “Er… I’m not sure, things have gone wrong… George is ill and we’ve lost the chalice… and my brother and sister are ill too… Silas Dixon has the chalice!”

  She stood quietly and considered the problem. She grabbed him by the arm and led him towards the kitchens.

  “You must see Sir James immediately,” she said decisively.

  They walked towards the door and Miss Sheriff opened the door quietly and peeped inside, checking who was there. They went inside and down a small passage. There were a number of coats hanging from the hooks on the wall. She removed one and handed it to him.

  “Put this on, you will be less conspicuous.”

  He did as he was told and put it on. It was far too big but he felt less obvious dressed in the coat. She led him into a large kitchen. A maid was washing dishes in the large stone sink and another woman was making pastry on the well-scrubbed table. It reminded him of George’s mother and their kitchen. Not many modern conveniences here he thought. Lee pulled out a chair and nodded to him to sit.

  The two servants looked curiously at him but were obviously in some awe of Miss Sheriff.

  “This young man is here to see Sir James, I will tell him he is here.” She swept out closing the door behind her. Rob was uncomfortable under the curious gaze of the cook. She carried on with her task but glanced at him every few minutes. He avoided her eyes and looked down at the floor as though something very interesting was compelling him to do so.

  *

  After what seemed like ages Miss Sheriff returned.

  “Sir James will see you now. Follow me!”

  He did as he was told once more and followed her through a maze of hallways and passages. They walked across an impressively tiled hallway, some with ram’s heads emblazoned on them. Rob smirked, again evidence of Ramsden’s sense of self-worth. The large oak door was opened for them and they were ushered into the room they had been in previously. James was leaning against the ornate fireplace, his face reflected in the mirror above. As he caught sight of them he lit up with excitement.

  *

  “My boy! It is so good to see you again!” he cried. He rushed towards the boy and embraced like an old friend.

  Rob was unsure how advanced in years he was on this encounter, but he looked similar to when they had found the chalice.

  “I did not think to see you so soon, I trust all is well? I had strange dreams last night of the chalice and you…” he trailed
off and his expression suggested he was suddenly aware of the problem. His face grew stern and his eyes searched for the answer on Rob’s face.

  “It’s not good news James, not by any stretch of the imagination. We have lost the chalice.”

  James was crestfallen and the colour drained from his usually ruddy cheeks.

  “But we have only just found it… how could this happen?” he demanded.

  Rob sat down heavily on the chair and related the events, as far as he could. He wondered if the other things he had experienced had already been erased from the timeline. It was mightily confusing and he could hardly tell James he had seen him as a very old man.

  “The old monk said that the chalice is only powerful close to the abbey-do you think we can find it? What if it isn’t in my time?” He caught his breath.

  James looked thoughtfully at him. Miss Sheriff had not moved and as they considered the room wavered and crackled. Rob leapt to his feet. This was happening too quickly, he hadn’t had time to talk to James. This must be a result of Silas Dixon’s conjuring. Without another thought he grabbed hold of James by the arm and hung onto him. The room span and once more he was transported to another time, but this time he had taken James with him.

  CHAPTER 19

  OLD FRIENDS

  They landed with a bump, almost knocking someone over.

  “God’s Blood! Where hast thou come from?” cried a vaguely familiar voice.

  The young man stood up and straightened his tricorn hat. As he focused and saw Rob his mouth fell open in surprise.

  “’Tis thee… young Rob! Well I ne’er thought to see thee again in this life!”

  Rob winced. Yet again Tom addressed him as though he was a young boy instead of a boy of his own age.