“Oh. I’m sorry. Vanni. This is your father. Lucio!”
“Father? Lucio… no. Lucius.”
“Si`! Lucius of Venetia. Your father. Didn’t they tell you about me? The King. Il Dolce Mio. Didn’t he tell you about me?”
“Si`! Santa Maria! Father? What is this thing in which you are imprisoned? How can I help you get free?”
“Che cosa?” Lucio frowned. There were several loud banging noises and then shouts and Luke Andrew returned to the phone. He could hear his son shouting for him in the background and speaking in the strange, rapid-fire language of the elves.
“Brother? Luke, what is happening?”
“He thinks you are in the phone!” Luke told him. “He almost beat it to pieces.”
“Oh. Just hold him until I get there!” Lucio nodded. “Tell him that his father is on the way home.”
Lucio ended the call and smiled broadly at Mark Andrew. “I’m going to Scotland, Brother. That was my son, Vanni! He needs me.”
Mark Andrew shook his head and watched helplessly as Lucio broke from his quarters in a dead run. He would have to get permission from the Grand Master and he would need Mark's support. Mark slammed his fist against the door jamb and shook his head. More problems!!
(((((((((((((
Omar lay under the cover of the multilayered fronds of a thick growth of palms, looking up at the imposing walls of the Citadelle Laferriere. Many colored lights had been installed atop the walls of the refurbished fortress and it looked as if it were decorated for Christmas. There were no signs of life on the walls. He had learned that the place was protected in the main by only recently installed electronic devices. The eccentric billionaire who had bought the place from the government at an exorbitant price had converted it into a private residence. Jozsef Daniel. The only name Omar knew for the creature that had taken his cousin, abused his wife and stolen his son.
“But Omar!” Lemarik’s voice was very close to his ear. “You cannot mean to go up there. He is very powerful. He will destroy you!”
“He and his companion have already destroyed me, Father,” Omar hissed at the Djinni. “Now you can either help us or not. It is entirely up to you.”
“But your plan lacks stability and even should victory ensue, we will lose,” Lemarik protested. “If Anna succeeds, she intends to leave us… forever! I do not wish to see her go, my son. She is a wonderful creature. We will miss her terribly.”
“She has made up her mind. It is what will make her happy. I am in full agreement with her. She wants to be with her husband and I want this creature gone.” Omar was losing patience with his father. He pushed himself up and sat cross-legged in the thick growth.
“Have you consulted with your grandfather, Adar? Perhaps he would be willing to help you. I know that he has been searching for this creature in his spare time, but the Grand Master will not allow him to lead a search. If he knew that we have found him, he would come here and bring help. I am sure of it.” Lemarik sat next to him and spread his slender hands in supplication. “Allow me to visit with him and ask his opinion. What could a bit more time matter now? It will only take a few minutes or hours, I am not sure which. It will depend on what he is doing when I find him. Sometimes I have to trick him into listening to me.”
Omar had to smile. His father only wanted to help, but he was afraid of this powerful entity from the beyond and with good reason. Omar, himself, had no fear of him. He was beyond all that. Ruth would have nothing to do with him in his present form. His son was still missing. And he still hated the image he saw in the mirror every time he looked even though it had been months and still, he did not like to see Martin St. John’s visage staring back at him. . He did not feel angry with Ruth for her rejection of him. She was still with him. She still trusted him, but he could understand her feelings. He was not the same man she had married.
Anna had made him an offer he could not refuse. If he helped her to avenge Jozsef’s death, she would leave Jozsef’s physical body for him. A fair trade. Revenge and revenge. Then he would return to New Babylon in triumph, looking very much like he had in the beginning. Jozsef Daniel could have been his identical twin. There were very few, if any noticeable differences between them, other than the golden hand that the Tuathan healing techniques had left with him. Omar would not accept his father’s reasoning that Jozsef Daniel could destroy him. It was inconceivable and if it was true, then he would soon find out if his beliefs about the immortality of the soul were in error.
His father had told him that he was not sure if he and Dunya and even himself, the mighty Djinni, had souls at all. Lemarik had argued that Omar had not existed before he had been ‘born’ and that could only mean that he could possibly revert to the oblivion from which he had come. Omar did not believe this even though his father’s arguments were most heartfelt and convincing. Omar felt that he had always existed. He could not fathom the idea of non-existence. As far as he was concerned, he had always existed and always would in some form or fashion and if he could alter the form and fashion of his existence, he intended to give it a good try. Omar argued that it mattered not how his physical body had come into being; his soul and spirit had entered the body sometime very close to birth and that was that. Where this soul had come from or how it had found its way to his father’s magickal fortress in the mountains of Arabia, Omar could not say, but he knew that God was everywhere and in everything and that was his only consolation.
Anna slipped through the vegetation to join them. She sat down beside Omar and brushed back the scarf that covered her face. Her dark eyes twinkled.
“I have seen him!” she said excitedly. “He walks along the battlements, usually in the afternoon. I saw him up there just as the moon rose over the sea. It made my heart leap to see him, though I know it is not my husband. To look upon his beautiful face again has made me both happy and sad and I am now reminded of how much I miss Jozsef. When will we go?”
“My father has requested a bit of time,” Omar said and licked his lips. It was very hot and humid here and no amount of water could cool them. Sweat clung to his brow even in the dark of night. “He wishes to consult with Grandfather before we go.”
“There is no need to bother our Grandfather. He is very busy. There are many troubles in the east.” Anna waved one hand in dismissal.
“What troubles my father?” Lemarik asked and frowned. He had not visited his father since they had last met in the deserts of Arabia and vanquished the army of the yellow Ifrit. Lemarik had been very busy himself, escorting Jasmine all about the world, wherever she wished to go. He even convinced her to go swimming with him in the coral reefs off the coast of Australia. It had been wonderful! Glorious! They had traveled together as great purple fish and seen many wondrous things. Her nightmares about her horrible experience at the hands of her former Orisha, Oshun, had almost ceased to plague her.
“The one that the elves named Vannistephetti has been returned to Scotland. The King can no longer take care of him and has returned him to the land of his father, Lucius of Venetia. My grandfathers are on their way home now to see the boy. He is very handsome. Have you seen him?” Anna smiled at them. “He has his father’s looks, though he considers himself an elf now.”
“That could be very dangerous.” Lemarik shook his head. “He will be lost in this world!”
“He will learn just as I did, Father,” Omar told him.
“That is exactly what Il Dolce Mio has in mind,” Anna continued. “He wishes the boy to learn how to be a man like his father. Like he did when he lived with Grandfather Lucius. He is very precocious.”
“Then it will be well for me to visit my father.” Lemarik nodded. “He misses me!”
Omar nodded, smiled and capitulated. “Then we will meet you back here tomorrow at this time.”
(((((((((((((
Meredith glanced back over her shoulder once and raised her hand hesitantly.
“Go on. Knock.”
<
br /> She nodded to herself and rapped on the heavy oak door three times.
The door swung open and the woman inside stood blinking at her in obvious confusion for the barest few seconds before smiling.
“What a pleasant surprise!” The dark-haired woman stepped back and held out her hand. “Please, come in.”
Meredith stepped inside the parlor. A fire was burning in the hearth and the smell of cinnamon struck her nose. The sight of the dark green velvet furnishings took her breath away.
The woman hugged her tightly and kissed her on both cheeks.
“I was just about to have tea,” she said. “Sit down… please. I’ll call for more. If I had known you were coming, I could have… oh, this is so nice! You have no idea!”
Meredith blocked her way as she tried to step around her into the hall.
“Madam Ramsay,” Meredith said the words and her voice sounded hollow in her ears.
“Yes?” She stopped in the door.
“I’m sorry I didn’t let you know…”
“That’s all right, lassie, just have a seat. It will only take a moment. You must be very tired. It’s no trouble at all.” The woman smiled again. Her blue eyes twinkled in the light of the oil lamps. “I was just telling Callie yesterday how nice it would be to have company. Make yourself at home. I’ll be right back.”
Madam Ramsay stepped into the hall and saw John Paul for the first time.
“And who is this?” She looked up at the tall man standing in the hall. “Luke? Luke Matthew?”
The Knight smiled at her and nodded. He gave his mother a wink and a slight shake of his head.
“I cannot believe this!” She threw herself in his arms and he hugged her tightly, lifting her from the floor a bit. “Oh, this is too wonderful for words! I have waited so long to see you! Did you bring the children?” She backed away from him when he released her.
“Not this time,” he told her. “We do not have long.”
“Go on in then.” She pushed him toward the door and then hurried away down the hall, calling for her cook excitedly.
He stepped inside the parlor. Meredith stood near the sofa, holding a silver picture frame in her hands.
“This is amazing.” Meredith looked up at him. “I can’t believe this, John Paul.”
The Knight crossed the room and pulled back the drapes at one of the windows. A light snow was falling on the meadow and the land was lit by a greenish light as if moonlight had been trapped between the earth and the blanket of clouds.
“Yes, I know. It is hard to believe,” John Paul said softly.
“This is my picture,” Meredith said quietly, as if to herself.
“Yes.”
“But why?” She looked about. The old portrait hung in its usual place, but it was like new. No cracks marred the surface of the paint. Above the fireplace was the wedding portrait. Mark Andrew in his white suit. His blue eyes almost sparkling in the light. His expression one of amused confusion. Her own light blue eyes stared back at her.
“That, I cannot say,” he said and looked up at the portrait. “Who has ever been able to fathom my father’s mind?”
Madam Ramsay returned, followed by a short woman dressed in a long, gray dress. The woman looked at them suspiciously before depositing another silver tray on the low coffee table.
“Is Mark Andrew coming then?” She looked at them hopefully. “I had hoped that he would come and then we could talk, but no matter. You look exactly like I expected. He said you were a bit larger than him. Please come and sit down, both of you! You must tell me all the news. How is the boy? John Paul?”
Meredith sat on the sofa as if in a trance and watched her fuss over the cups and saucers.
“He is well,” the Knight answered. “I see the snow has come early.”
“Yes. We had none of the storms this year and for that I’m grateful.” Madam Ramsay poured three cups of the aromatic tea. “Do you take your tea dark or would you like cream and sugar? Mark likes plenty of sugar in his. He says one can never have enough sugar. I have heard that it is bad for the teeth.”
“Dark is fine,” he told her.
“You have a piano.” Meredith frowned. She had no idea what to say.
“Oh, yes.” The woman nodded. “A fine thing. A wonderful thing. These modern things are almost like magick. I was telling Mark that I missed the little musical sessions we used to have. No one ever comes here as in the old days. I used to love to dance, but there are no musicians here. I have been toying about with it, but I can’t say that I understand much about it. Can you play?” she asked and raised both eyebrows at Meredith.
“No, I'm afraid not.” Meredith shook her head and accepted her cup of tea.
“That is a shame. If only someone could teach me. Mark Andrew said that one is supposed to use both hands.” She laughed. “I am too clumsy. I’m afraid I will never be good at it. Do you play, Luke?”
“A little.” John pushed one of the green velvet chairs in front of the antique instrument and sat down. It was something that might have been modern when Mozart was a child. He touched the keys tentatively and the brassy sound tinkled in the room. John Paul smiled. “I learned a nice Mozart piece when I was a child.”
“A harpsichord!” Meredith exclaimed. “I thought it looked strange.” Where the keys should have been white, they were black and the smaller keys were white.
“Yes, that is what he called it.” Madam Ramsay nodded vigorously. “A harpsichord. It makes such a lovely sound. Callie has tried her hand at it. She seems to have more talent for it than I do.” The woman took a cup of tea to the harpsichord and set it carefully on the top as John ran one finger down the keys.
Meredith tried to relax. It was very difficult. She felt very wrong being here. If Mark Andrew came, she didn’t know what they would do. She didn’t know what she would do.
The metallic strands of a piano sonata filled the room and she thought it was a most appropriate tune for the setting. Hauntingly beautiful.
The woman came back and sat down on the sofa. Her eyes filled with tears as she listened to the beautiful music. Her mouth was slightly open in wonder. She looked at Meredith and Meredith smiled slightly. It was as if they had invaded the most private part of Mark Andrew’s mind and she felt totally out of place, as if they were interlopers violating a sacred trust or treading on holy ground, perpetrating some heinous crime. Again, she felt that she was betraying him.
She sipped the tea and watched the woman from the corner of her eye. So many questions and so few answers. And none of them would form into words. She felt like screaming or running from the room. The music ended and Madam Ramsay clapped her hands in sheer joy.
“That was true heaven,” she said. “Mark didn’t tell me that you played, Luke. Another pleasant surprise. You must come more often! And next time, bring the children! Now come here and tell me about them. Where are they? What are they doing? When was the last time you saw Mark Andrew? Have you been down to Edinborough? Do they still hold the fair there in the spring?”
The Knight smiled at her and turned his chair about, picking up his tea.
Meredith listened in abstract fascination as he told her all about the last fair he had attended, apparently long ago, describing all the sights and sounds for her as she oohed and ahhed and asked hundreds of questions. He played another, more Scottish tune for her on the harpsichord and she sang a song in Gaelic for them. By the time they had to leave, Meredith had lost her initial trepidation and felt quite at home here. Madam Ramsay was a joy to listen to as she described her daily life which was, surprisingly, filled with various activities. Her existence was nothing like Meredith had at first imagined. There were gardens to tend and animals, apparently. Horses, geese and chickens. Madam Ramsay had a preference for chickens and she related several amusing stories about her ‘pets’.
There were also dogs… somewhere and a gardener and a groom and a stable boy, all of which she called by name. Merry’s head was spinning. M
ark Andrew had created an entire world here for his mother. The only thing lacking was the entire outside world. They were completely cut off like people stranded on a desert island. Madam Ramsay occasionally lamented her loneliness for news and her desire to see her sons and grandchildren more often, but she was all things considered, quite cheerful, in the main and seemingly very content. She rustled about the room, serving them cake and more tea as the evening progressed and the fire burned low, she called in one of her servants, an old man in woolen britches and heavy boots who brought more coal for the fire. The old man acted as if they had visitors every day, commenting on the weather and the fish he had caught earlier in the day. It was totally fascinating. Merry had no idea who these other people were. Most likely people that Mark Andrew had known from his past.
At last, they took their leave and she bid them goodbye with many tears and admonishments to return quickly and bring the children. Whose children she was talking about was not entirely clear. She told them to give her love to Mark Andrew and tell him to come home soon and offered to make them a basket of food for their journey though she did not ask where they were going.
“Oh!” she said just before closing the door. “Tell little John hello for me and tell him to study hard. It would be nice to have another physician in the family. Tell him that his grandmother is looking forward to seeing him again.”
Meredith looked up at her companion in confusion. Again?
Chapter Three of Twenty
Yea, though he live a thousand years twice told, yet hath he seen no good
Vanni sat on the stone in the middle of the patio, watching the moon rise over the trees west of the Ramsay property. It was almost full. He had been invited to seek Nanna the Anu at the full moon and play for him again. Tomorrow night would be the night. He pulled his drum from the table behind him and began to tap out a rhythm on the skin. He did not like this place. It was terrible. He had almost died the day before and they had laughed at him! The things they did were most baffling. Toilets! Who had dreamed up such things? And why would he have to suffer so? His first experience with this new thing had been most terrifying. Digestive function. What was the purpose? He was very angry with the King for not having explained it more fully to him before he left.
Thoth, the Atlantean Page 4