by Lazlo Ferran
“Hm.” He seemed miles away. “Oh yes. Yes dear boy. It is genuine as far as I can tell. The ink looks authentic and the vellum. It talks about what we are interested in.”
“Alright,” I said. “I am prepared to make you an offer. 7500 Guineas.”
“Well that would be fine Mr er?” Neither of us answered him. “That would be fine if I didn’t know how interested you are in this.” He was relishing this and I knew he would want to go a lot higher. I decided to try a gambit of my own.
“Well if the man who wanted to buy this was also hoping to, one day, buy the whole document, then he would be a fool to offer over what he could afford for the first sheet.”
The man laughed. “Touché!”
Henry smiled at me. He had noticed not only my ploy, but that I had already learned from him to use the word document, as a sign of respect, rather than ‘book’. A book was an object, a document was a historical record, something much more vital.
“Point taken Sir. But I do believe you are prepared to offer a little more.”
“8200.”
“Um. A serious offer. But I would have to leave now if that was your limit. André. Would you?” He pointed to the document and André took it gently from Henry, placed it back in the case and closed it. Henry looked a little flustered.
“Really, I cannot go much higher. But 8400 I think is a very fair offer.”
“André. Another glass of Champagne for us all.” He sipped his and considered the offer. He took so long, I almost offered him more but managed to stop myself.
“Are you serious about the rest of the document Sir?”
“Yes. I would at least like to see it.”
“How do you know I have it?”
“I don’t. Do you?”
“I have access to it. A buyer who was to offer 8500 for a single leaf would secure a viewing, say within a week?”
Now I smiled. He was probably now exploring how much he could get for the whole document. I waited for a very long time, considering this.
“8500 it is then. And an appointment within one week?”
“Done, Sir.”
I reached over to shake his hand but he pulled away. I knew then he wasn’t blind.
I helped Henry as he rose stiffly from the seat with the aid of his stick, and we walked back to the car. The second bodyguard watched us while we started the car, turned around, and drove off.
We talked excitedly as we drove. Henry told me that the first paragraph had given him a possible explanation for the phases of strange deaths, from crushing, every sixty years.
“It says something about the heartbeat of God.”
“Yes. Go on!”
“Well it says the victims of these demons called Warg are usually, but not always, crushed, and that they are summoned by the Devil.” He looked at my face for a reaction.
“Well none of that is really surprising, all though it is a bit vague and par for the course for 13th Century superstition, don’t you think?”
“Yes but the really good bit is this. It says – and I am not sure of this so I need to get home and check my Latin – it says that the serpents appear as if from water in the air! I feel sure that the next paragraph will reveal more. I caught a few words but that André fellow took it back from me before I could really see anything much.”
We argued about what this might mean for a while, and after stopping for petrol, after perhaps two hours, I began to feel restless and impatient.
“I really need to know what it says. Let’s stop now and read it. I can’t wait.” I pulled the car over at the next entrance to a field, and we stopped right in front of the old wooden gate. The sun was lowering in the West, although it was still early and a cloud, like a bloody gash, stretched across the sky just above the horizon. I opened the boot and passed the case to Henry, and then paced up and down in the early evening, as Henry read the pages of ‘De Secretis Scientia Occultis’.
“It says here something about your lot – the Ordo Lupus. Yes. Notice that it distinguished between Wolf and Warg. Did you also notice how it said serpents earlier when talking about the water in the air.
“Yes.”
“Yes. It also mentions something about a counter-brotherhood of some sort, and a Catholic priesthood who were violently opposed to both, believing them both heretical. There is something else about some kind of potent symbol or something but I cannot really make much of it.”
“Tantalising but it doesn’t really help us very much. I guess that is just what he wanted, the old scoundrel. Did you notice he wasn’t even blind?”
“Oh yes. It’s just a ruse, so that he can watch us better. I have seen other dealers do all sorts of strange things to get an edge. Didn’t you feel me kick you under the table?
“Don’t you think it’s an awfully big coincidence that this one page just happens to have information about the Warg – the one thing I am most interested in? How did he know that?”
“Yes it is too much for a coincidence, but you haven’t noticed the most significant thing about recent events at all, have you?”
“Haven’t I? What’s that?”
“Well its so obvious I am not surprised you haven’t seen it.”
He was being coy so I walked over to the drivers side door and stuck my head in. Henry looked at me sheepishly.
“Go on.”
“Hmm hmm. Well I don’t like to point this out to you really because I know how you are suffering inside. At least I think I know. I haven’t lost a child myself – both of mine are grown up and married, but I lost many friends during the war and I am sure your suffering is worse.” He chose his words carefully and I was touched.
“Henry. Just say it. Right now I badly need to understand things – understand just something. Anything to make sense of all this.”
“Alright, dear boy. Well what struck me was that this serpent targeted your daughter at all. I mean, why you? You say you can sense evil and I believe you. From what you say, your grandfather had connections to this society, the Ordo Lupus, who seem to be opposed to these Warg. So why somebody close to you?”
“Yes. Yes, I never thought of that. I see what you mean. Perhaps that means something?” My heart lifted just a little, at the thought, for the first time since starting down this mysterious road to explain Annie’s death. At the same time, a cold thrill ran down my spine. What was I dealing with here? Was a demon actually baiting me?
“Henry. You are a genius. Now let’s get home and have some of that excellent sherry of yours.” The countryside in the dimming light suddenly seemed threatening.
Henry, even with the aid of his Latin reference books, could deduce no more from the four pages of ‘De Secretis Scientia Occultis’, but he received an invitation for me to view the whole book seven days later.
Henry telephoned the evening before the meeting was to take place. “I have some bad news dear boy. The meeting has been cancelled. Mr Kalmus has sold to somebody else.”
“Somebody else! Well who?”
“I don’t know yet. I am trying to find out.”
“Why the hell did they sell? I don’t get it. Why offer it to us and then just sell.” Shit!
“Hi, Henry. What have you found out?” I was answering an answer-phone message from Henry a few months later.
“Well I never did find out who the buyer actually was, but a friend has told me something very interesting. Apparently the Bibliothèque Nationale now has a copy. Now I know they didn’t have a copy a few years ago but I don’t know how recently they acquired it. They have kept very quiet about it and considering that most experts think at most there are three copies in existence, and possibly just the one, it is most unusual.”
“So is it possible to see it?”
“Well yes apparently it is. It’s held at the François-Mitterrand Library in Paris. You have to go there and see it.”
* * *
Biography of Lazlo Ferran
Lazlo Ferran's extraordinary life has included
studying aeronautical engineering; being a dispatch rider, graphic designer, full-time busker, a guitarist and singer (recording two albums); travelling widely, marrying in Kyrgyzstan and a long and successful career within the science industry. He has now left employment in the public sector to concentrate on writing. He has lived and worked in London since 1985 and grew up in the home counties of England.
Brought up as a Buddhist, in recent years he has moved towards an informal Christian belief and has had close contact with Islam and Hinduism. He has a deep and lasting interest in theology and philosophy. His ideas and observations form the core of his novels. Here, evil, good, luck and faith battle for control of the souls who inhabit his worlds.
He has traveled widely, spending some time in Central Asia having various adventures, one of which was getting married in the traditional Kyrgyz way. He keeps very busy writing in his spare time and pursuing his other interests of history, genealogy and history of the movies.
From the author:
Thank you for reading my story and I hope you liked it. I value very much feedback from people and need this if each book is to be better than the last, so if you could take the time to either post a comment on my blog or simply email me, I would appreciate it.
Where to find Lazlo Ferran
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