Thoth, the Atlantean

by Brendan Carroll

  The Red Cross of Gold XXIII

  “Thoth, the Atlantean”

  Assassin Chronicles

  By

  Brendan Carroll

  Copyright 2011

  Thoth the Atlantean is dedicated to everyone who has ever wondered just how closely related the gods really were.

  The characters are fictional and any resemblance to real persons alive or dead is unintentional and coincidental.

  Brendan Carroll can be reached on Facebook or on Twitter @BrendanCarroll7.

  http://brendancarroll.wordpress.com/

  Prologue

  “I would wait,” Mark Andrew said again as he walked about the bed, perusing the still form of the French Knight. He had no explanation for this malady. De Lyons’ eyes were open and he blinked occasionally, but he would respond to nothing. Even pain caused no reaction. “It could be something similar to what happened to Omar and Luke Andrew. I searched the underworld and the Abyss for him in the scrying dish. He is not there unless he is deeper… in the Beyond, perhaps.”

  “I can see nothing here, Your Grace,” Konrad said as he stood up and folded his arms across his chest. “It is possible that his mind is totally destroyed. There may be no mystery to recover.”

  “That would be very unfortunate.” D’Brouchart frowned and then cut his eyes at the Knight of Death. “You have learned nothing of the whereabouts of this Aristoni fellow?”

  “No, Sir. Do you believe that he may have had something to do with this?” Mark Andrew blinked at him.

  “I don’t think so,” the Grand Master answered. “I’m not sure what he might be capable of.”

  They stood a bit longer in silence while each considered the ramifications behind this strange development. Guy de Lyons' condition was frightening and eerie.

  When they left the infirmary, a gentle rain was falling and the sound of thunder in the distance made Mark Andrew stop on the bottom step. Konrad and d’Brouchart hurried on to the main building, trying to escape the rain before they were soaked.

  The Knight of Death stood with his face turned up into the drops that spattered on his head. A great feeling of comfort and warmth spread over him and he heard the voice of the dragon. ‘When the gentle rain falls on your face, you will see mine and know that I am thinking of you.’ He heard Inanna's words in his head. It was the first time he had thought of her in a long, long time. He had the brief, but overwhelming desire to simply leave this place and return to her. But he knew this was the spell of the dragon. The thunder rumbled again and it seemed that he heard his name called. She was calling to him to come to her. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and his right hand closed about the small picture frame he carried with the photograph of Meredith. Lightning struck somewhere very close to the infirmary and he hurried after the others as the wind picked up and the rain began to fall harder.

  Another time, Inanna. Another time.

  Chapter One of Twenty

  That which hath been is named already, and it is known that it is man

  Vannistephetti edged closer to the strange creature hunkered over the soft earth under the weeping willows near the stream bed. He had never seen such a creature in all his adventures in the underworld. The young elf crawled silently on his stomach beneath the towering green ferns thickly lining the little stream of sparkling water. Il Dolce Mio had told him never to come here, but here he had come, of course. In fact, this was one of his favorite places to practice playing his drum, but today he was not practicing. He had played for a while and then fallen asleep in the roots of one of the great old trees. When he had awakened some time later, he had discovered that he was no longer alone in his favorite place. This odd fellow with long, tendrils of grayish brown hair hanging down his thick back and over his broad shoulders, was crawling about in the dark earth, picking out small pebbles and assorted rocks from the soil with his meaty black fingers. His legs and thighs were huge muscular affairs and his large feet splayed and dirty, but he moved with surprising agility in the seemingly cramped position in which he worked. A circular patch of ground about him had been smoothed and was completely devoid of grass or leaves.

  Vanni froze as the creature moved again, bringing himself around so that its face showed in the dappled shadows for the first time. The elf’s wide dark eyes grew round with fear as he saw the ugly face. The jaw was very heavy and two long tusks emerged from the underbite, ending in sharp points on either side of its flat nose. The nose, itself, was lined with horizontal creases. The brow bone was greatly pronounced, shading its eyes under bushy brows. Numerous sprigs of grass and small twigs were entwined in the twisted cords of hair springing from its head and its large pointed ears poked through the ropy twine that passed for its hair. It was clothed in gray, rough brown and black fabric, ragged and tattered and tied here and there with leather straps and twine. The immense muscles on its arms were decorated with many dark tattoos on his leathery skin and there were numerous ornate silver bracelets at its wrists and intricate fretworks of copper and bronze on its biceps. Its muscles rippled as it reached for the tiny bits of colored rocks it was collecting in a small pile in front of its large feet. The creature seemed totally oblivious to the presence of the elf. He held up the tiny prizes in front of his face and perused them most carefully before either tossing them away or adding them to the pile. Around him, a complex design was growing in the earth. A brown jug of water sat nearby and he would occasionally add a bit of water to the dark soil to make it pliable.

  The elf watched in fascination as the creature worked to create a beautiful circle filled with strange symbols and markings made up of the sparkling colors of the rainbow. The creature moved silently and slowly about the design, carefully avoiding the clever art work with his feet. Time wore on, but the unnatural movements and the mesmerizing design threw out all consciousness of the passing hours.

  Vanni had crawled nearer and nearer in order to get a better view of the work of art. He moved slightly and edged forward a bit more when the creature turned his back again and then froze as a twig snapped under his knee.

  “Come out, boy!” he heard the creature call to him. “I know you are there.” His voice did not fit his appearance, it was almost as smooth as Bart's or Paddy's, only a bit deeper.

  Vanni turned to make his escape and found one of the long tendrils of coiled hair wrapped about his ankle. He shrieked and tried to disentangle his foot, but another cord snaked forward and wrapped itself about his wrist. He reached for his dagger at his belt and yet another cord of the coarse gray-brown hair quickly entwined his other wrist. He was caught for sure. He would never have the pleasure of hearing the King admonish him again. Surely the creature would eat him for lunch. There was no doubt in his mind that the thing was a hobgoblin of some sort. He kicked and squealed in fright as the long strands dragged him from the cover of the ferns and across the soft black earth, stopping only inches from the edge of the circle.

  “Be still,” the creature said, but did not turn about. It continued to pick through the dirt for more colorful pebbles and bits of crystal.

  Vanni complied with the instruction immediately and the cords released him.

  “Do not move,” the thing commanded him as it began to turn about, lifting first one great foot and then the other.

  The mischievous elf cowered on the ground under the deep gaze of the thing’s eyes. He raised his own eyes slowly and discovered that for all its ugliness, it had the most beautiful crystal blue eyes he had ever seen.

  “Why are you spying on me, little one?” the creature asked him. Its lips were shiny and black. Its mouth was full of sharp teeth and it swayed slightly on its haunches.

  “I was not spying on you, sir,” Vanni told him desperately. “
I was merely curious. It is my job to be curious. I am only a child.”

  “A child?” The creature threw back his head and laughed. “You are no child. You are a long way from home.”

  “Yes and I should be getting back. The others will miss me!” Vanni told him hopefully. “You won’t eat me, will you? I meant no harm. I was simply admiring your beautiful work.”

  “What is that you have there?” The thing nodded its big head toward the drum that Vanni had abandoned in the fern.

  “A drum!” Vanni told him. “I play the drum.”

  “Oh? And does your father play this drum?”

  “No. My father does not play the drum. My father is a great warrior.”

  “Ahhh. A warrior.” The thing smiled and Vanni cringed. “Would you not also be a great warrior like your father?”

  “I will someday, but there is no war at this moment.”

  “Play for me!” The creature tossed its head and the long tendrils swished over its back.

  Vanni crawled away to fetch the drum and began to tap out a rhythm on its soft leather head.

  “Ahhhh.” The goblin closed its eyes and the quality of his voice contained a pleasant vibrato.

  The creature went back to his treasure hunt.

  Vanni tucked the drum under his arm, emboldened by the fact that the creature did not appear ready to put him on a spit, and began to walk slowly around the circle as he played.

  “What is this you are making?” he asked after a few moments.

  The big creature grunted and placed a number of blue stones around the simple outline of a woman on the ground, finishing it off.

  “I am building a tribute to my mother.” The thing looked up at him and frowned slightly. “Where is your mother, little one?”

  “I do not know my mother,” Vanni told him and shrugged. “I have no mother.”

  “Everyone has a mother. My mother is the virgin.” The creature went back to his work.

  “Hmmm.” Vanni frowned. Virgin. Virgin. He would have to ask the King what Virgin was. “My father is an eagle.”

  “Oh?” The creature moved to the edge of the circle and reached one long finger outside the design. He drew two fishes in the soft earth, each swimming in the opposite direction. “Your father is the fish. Pisces.”

  “My father is no fish.” Vanni laughed and picked up the beat of his drumming a bit.

  “Yes. He was born under the sign of the fish. Pisces.” The creature moved back to the center of the circle. “My mother is also the dove.”

  “You see?” Vanni smiled. “Your mother is also a bird. Birds are much better than fish.”

  The creature laughed softly and sat down on the ground.

  “And what are you?” Vanni asked him. “I am an anomaly.”

  “Anomaly? I thought you were an elf! I am called Nanna by some. Others call me Sin.”

  “Sin?” Vanni frowned. He had heard this word. Sin. He did not like it. “I will call you… Nanna. You may call me Vanni. But that is your name. What are you? Are you a goblin?”

  “I am no goblin or else I would have had you as a tasty snack.” The great creature leaned back on his elbows and crossed one muscular leg over the other. “I am an Anu, maker of Kings, progenitor of the land.”

  “Maker of Kings?” Vannistephetti did not understand this at all. He had never heard of an Anu before and he had seen many, many faery creatures.

  Nanna laughed again at the confused expression of the elf.

  “Vanni!” The sound of someone calling to him drifted to them from under the trees. “Vannistephetti! Where are you?!”

  “Oh!” Vanni’s eyes widened. “They are looking for me, sir. I must be going!”

  “Get thee gone then, little prince.” Nanna pushed himself up. “Come again and play for me when you see the full moon.”

  Vanni leaped lightly into the ferns and dashed away in the opposite direction of the voices calling to him. It would never do for them to find him near the stream. He made it about two hundred yards into a birch grove before he was tackled and brought to the ground. The young elf shrieked and rolled about in the leaves with his assailant, beating him over the head with his drum.

  “Stop it!! Stop! Ow! OUCH!!” The attacker scrambled up and away from the frantic boy.

  Vanni sat up on the ground, spitting dirt and twigs from his mouth. His curly hair fell in his face and he tossed it back over his shoulders. His drum lay in several pieces on the ground about him. He looked up into the face of the furious King.

  “Your Highness!!” Vanni leaped to his feet. “A thousand apologies, Your Grace! I didn’t know it…”

  “Hush!! Be quiet!” Il Dolce Mio stood pressing both hands to his bloody nose.

  Vanni dropped his head and stood waiting to be killed as several of the King’s warriors emerged from the trees behind him. The King sniffed and then held out one hand toward him. He shook his head, slinging copper-colored blood in all directions. The silver bells in his long hair tinkled and several yellow flower petals drifted to the ground around him. “What are you doing out here?” he demanded when he had caught his breath.

  “I was practicing my… drum,” Vanni said sadly. He had really done it this time. He had actually hurt the King. He was much bigger than the elven King now. At least a head taller and much stouter. “I’m sorry, sir. I really, truly am. I didn’t know it was you. I thought it was the Anu.”

  “The what?” The King jerked his head at the nearest archer and the archer whistled for the ponies.

  “The Anu! The creature with the tusks,” Vanni said and then slapped his hand over his mouth. He had not meant to tell the King about the creature.

  “There is no such thing as an Anu!” The King shook his head again and wiped at his nose.

  The ponies arrived and the elves mounted up. Il Dolce Mio climbed onto his pony and held out his hand to his unruly charge.

  “Climb up.”

  Vanni swung nimbly onto the small animal behind the King. So they would not kill him just yet.

  “Now tell me what you were doing near the stream, Vanni,” the King demanded as they started back toward the castle.

  “I was practicing my drum and I saw this strange creature,” Vanni told him. “I went to investigate him.” Vanni went on to tell him about the big, dark-skinned one with the wrinkled nose and long, coiled hair. He did not tell him about the conversation about fathers and mothers, nor did he tell him about the strange circle and symbols on the ground.

  “I forbid you to come back here,” the King told him angrily. “I have never heard of such a creature. It must have been from the Abyss! You will be boiled in oil, eaten or lost or… I am sick to death of chasing you about, Vannistephetti. I am going to find your father and bring him here. He must take you away and teach you to be a man. I cannot be responsible for you anymore!”

  “But… a man?” Vanni sat straight up on the pony and looked about at the warriors. They rode along on either side of the King with their crossbows ready in front of them. “My father will teach me to be a man? Why? I like it here, my King! I don’t want to be a man! They are… they would be… it would be…”

  “You will go with him,” Il Dolce Mio told him flatly. “You will learn how men do it, just as I did.”

  “But you are an elf!” Vanni objected. He had heard stories of his father. His father was described as an eagle and a serpent and a great warrior, but he’d never been told that he was a man. “Are you saying that my father… is a m-m-man?”

  “Yes. Yes. Yes.” Il Dolce Mio nodded. “A man! Your father is a man! Just like my father was a man.”

  “But your father is not a man. Your father is Adar, the Mighty Hunter! He is…”

  “Hush! Your father was also my father for a time,” the King told him and waved one hand in dismissal. “He is a man! And he will come and take you. It is time.”

  “No!” Vanni tried to get off the horse and one of the warriors turned his crossbow on him. He stopped and relaxe
d a bit. This was highly irregular. “Please. I don’t want to be a man. I will be good. I promise!”

  “It is too late,” Il Dolce Mio told him. “As soon as I can find him, I will bring him to you.”

  They rode on toward the castle in silence. Vanni knew that he had done wrong and now he would be banished. A terrible day! A terrible day indeed.

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  Luke Andrew nodded off again and then jerked his head up. He had been studying the archives for days. Something was just not clicking here. There was something terribly wrong with the Red Cross of Gold. His father was not telling him everything and he was not sure if his father even realized that anything was amiss. How could Adar, the Mighty Hunter, recognize this purely human anomaly that was going on? Mark Andrew Ramsay was many things and knew a great deal, but he didn’t know everything and things that were quite normal to him, were completely abstract and impossible to most people. Luke Andrew on the other hand, was half human. He had a better grasp on humanity than his father. De Lyons condition baffled everyone, but there was something that they were missing. Something very ominous. De Lyons was completely human… completely human. His father had been an executive at a bank in Lyons. His mother had been an architect in a very successful drafting firm. They had died together while on vacation in the Alps. Guy de Lyons, like most of the human apprentices taken in by Edgard d' Brouchart, had been an orphan. Well-heeled, but an orphan. Luke yawned and rubbed his eyes as he stared into the computer screen. De Lyons was completely human.

  De Lyons was lying in the infirmary in Italy, staring at the ceiling. He had been lying in the infirmary for three weeks. He had collapsed during a workout with the boys at the Academy. They had been practicing with some of Sir Barry’s ancient morning stars and he had simply collapsed. He had not been injured. The boys had testified that he had been in the middle of telling them how to hold the stars properly and then… pow! Gone! And no one could say why or how or where he had gone. Luke looked down at the notes scribbled on the paper in front of him.