Thoth, the Atlantean

by Brendan Carroll

  Lucio was looking at the ceiling, but he no longer saw anything. “Your friend here has made it impossible to relieve him of his head. That is what they fear most. Losing their heads, but there are worse things. He should have protected his heart. In more ways than one. What is it that they like to say? The company of women is a dangerous thing. I wonder what he thinks of your company right now, Mademoiselle?” He slapped Lucio’s face lightly and grinned. “Hello, Monsieur! Your lady has come to see you,” his voice was mocking and she could see that he was thoroughly enjoying himself. The Golden Eagle raised one bloody hand and pushed against the man’s arm futilely. He had no strength left. No blood.

  “The skull?” He turned to look at her once more. “If you do not tell me, I am going to have to finish the surgery.”

  “Surgery?” Her eyes widened.

  “Yes, heart surgery. His heart is defective. He keeps losing it to beautiful women who do nothing but mistreat him. I think he will be better off without it.”

  The man held up one hand and wiggled his fingers in front of his face.

  “Please don’t hurt him,” Catharine begged as tears flowed freely down her face. She tried to get out of the chair, but the man held up one hand and a force unseen pressed her back in the seat. “He has done nothing to you.”

  “That is not true. You have no idea what he has done.”

  To her increasing horror, he pushed his right hand inside the wound on Lucio’s stomach. Lucio did not make a sound. He made several choking noises, but he had no strength left to move or scream.

  “Stop!!” Catharine screamed for him. “Stop!! I will take you to the skull!”

  “Oh, that’s not necessary,” the man said, but continued his gory operation. “Ahh. There it is! Yes, a strong beat for so little blood.”

  Lucio choked again, kicked one foot and stopped breathing altogether.

  “It’s very interesting what can be done without anesthetics these days. A miracle!” The man laughed. “And so gratifying. To think that I can save him the trouble of having his heart broken again. Never again will anyone touch his heart like you have. Would you like to see it?” He turned his face slowly toward her and she screamed at him again. “I can take it out and let you see it. You’ll have to look quick. It won’t beat for long. He has already stopped breathing. Would you like to hold it?”

  “Stop! Wait!” she told him desperately. “I’ll tell you!”

  The man leaned forward a bit and looked at Lucio’s face.

  “Amazing,” he said lightly. “There is very little blood left here and yet the heart keeps beating. I have often wondered about that. They say that hope springs eternal from the hearts of men. Let’s see what hope will spring from his heart…”

  “Wewelsburg!” she screamed the word at him.

  “What?” He stopped to look at her expectantly.

  “Wewelsburg! The castle in Germany! A brass urn in my brother’s room,” she capitulated.

  “Aha!” He removed his hand from the wound and the sound it made caused her to scream again.

  The man slid from the bed and wiped his hand on the sheet.

  “There you go,” he said. “Now that was not so hard, was it? You can have him.”

  Catharine was aghast with horror as the man blithely unlocked the door, tossed the key onto the bed and then left the room as if nothing had occurred.

  “Lucio!!” she cried and fell on the floor beside the bed and clasped one of his bloody hands in hers. “I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry, my love!! Lucio!!” Her knees were very weak, she could not drag herself up, but remained beside the bed, sobbing, unable to do anything more.

  “What are you doing?!” another voice cut through her grief.

  She turned her head and saw someone through the blur of tears standing in the door.

  “Please help him!” she said as she was dragged away from the bed. “Help him! Oh, Lucio, my love. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bring this on you!” she continued to weep and cry as she was deposited roughly on the floor near the door. She caught herself, wiped fruitlessly at her eyes and heard someone shouting Lucio’s name before she was yanked up again and then someone was shaking her ruthlessly, yelling in her face in French.

  Her vision cleared somewhat and she was startled to see her grandson’s face so close to her own.

  “Simeon?” she said his name.

  “Mother?” She heard the response.

  “Simon?” she asked.

  “Mother!! What are you doing here! What have you done to my Brother?!”

  She was shoved against the dresser and fell again to the floor. She crawled across the floor in a dizzy haze of tears and pain. Something had broken.

  “Simon! The murderer!” she shouted and tried to reach her son to warn him of the man who had killed Lucio.

  “I am not a murderer!!” he shouted and kicked at her. “Get back!!”

  None of it made any sense! Another pair of arms grabbed her from the floor and drug her kicking and screaming incoherently from the room. She caught a glimpse of her son kneeling beside the bed with one hand on the Italian’s forehead and then everything transformed into a gray haze. Her last coherent thought was that she had to get to her brother and tell him what she had done. The skull!

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  Aristoni tapped on his sister’s door in their hotel suite and glanced at his watch. They were supposed to go to supper together an hour ago. He jiggled the door handle and found it unlocked. Surely she had gotten her rest by now. His sister had complained of fatigue and he had told her to go and lie down after they had arrived in Edinburgh around noon. But now it was well past eight PM and she had not come out of her room.

  “Catharine?”

  He pushed the door open slowly. The light fell across the tousled bed, but she was not there. He crossed the room quickly to the bath and listened at the door. Nothing. “Catharine!!”

  He knocked on the door and it opened effortlessly. Empty!

  “Dammit!” He looked in the shower and then the closet. He knew immediately what she had done. First the phone call so recklessly made to Louis Champlain and now this. She had gone to Lothian without him! He dashed across the room and looked down at the busy street below. He had no idea how she had gotten out of the hotel without being seen. He’d only left for a few minutes. Again, he had underestimated her. He picked up the phone and made a call to Budapest before locking the room and hurrying down to the front desk.

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  “I don’t understand it,” Edgard said softly.

  He looked down at the face of his son. The Healer was laid out on his bed with the covers drawn up around his neck. His face was very pale, but he would sleep it off in few hours hopefully, a few days at most. The wound had been very severe.

  “Master Dambretti was very lucky,” Simeon whispered. “If the wound had been inflicted while he was on his feet, it would have been fatal no doubt! He would have lost everything.”

  “But why would she do such a thing?” Edgard turned his haggard face on his grandson.

  “That… I would not know.” Simeon shook his head. “I simply heard her call him a murderer and then I took her from the room. She called my father a murderer! Why? I don’t know. Perhaps you would know more than I do.”

  Simeon sat down on the bed wearily. He had come back to rouse Simon and Lucio concerning the fire in the stables. It had been deliberately set. There was no doubt from the evidence and whoever had done it had not even tried to conceal the arson, but no one had been hurt and the horses had all gotten out safely. He had been forced to knock the woman out before he could get her out of the way and then he had locked her in the upstairs linen closet while he went back to help his father.

  When he had returned to Dambretti’s room, his father had been on the floor, passed out apparently from performing the Healing rite on the Knight. It had been a horrible scene. He had not been able to summon help because of the fire and had be
en forced to manage the thing alone until the others returned and he also had the two very frightened children to look after. He could not afford to allow Vanni to see his father and Greta had been level-headed enough to take charge of Vanni and divert him to the kitchen promising him some of Gil's chocolate cookies.

  Luke Matthew had been the first one back from the fire. Ramsay’s son had carried the woman from the closet where Simeon had locked her after she had fainted and put her in one of the rooms down the hall. There she remained under his watchful eye.

  Merry and Stephano were taking care of Lucio. Luke Andrew had joined Greta and Vanni in the kitchen and they were making cookies with Gil.

  The entire incident seemed bizarre beyond belief. Planxty had reported that no weapon had been found that might have been used to inflict the incredible wound on the Italian. He told them that it looked like a surgical incision possibly made with a scalpel.

  “How long will he be out?” Simeon brushed back his father’s fine hair from his forehead. “He looks bad, Grandfather.”

  “It is hard to tell. He should wake up before Lucio. Perhaps he can tell us more.” D’Brouchart left his son and grandson and made his way down the hall. He climbed the stairs and glanced toward the Golden Eagle’s room.

  He walked on down the hall to the room he used to share quite often with the elder von Hetz when they had business in Scotland and tapped on the door. Luke Matthew answered the door and then stood back. The Knight of the Orient did not look happy. He had been left out of this entire affair and he was demanding answers. He made a move to leave the room when the Master entered, but d’Brouchart held up one hand to stop the angry Knight.

  “Please stay,” he said as he crossed the room and sat down beside the single bed where the woman lay atop the covers. There was blood all over her light blue suit. He picked up one of her hands and looked closely at it.

  After a moment, he turned to Luke. “What do you make of this, sir?” he asked curtly. “Has she said anything at all?”

  “She has said nothing,” the Knight answered shortly. “Do you mind telling me who this is and why she was allowed in my brother’s house and why she might be trying to kill Lucio Dambretti?”

  “She is Catharine de Goth.” D’Brouchart let out a long breath.

  “I know that, Sir. I mean to say… who is she?”

  “She is Simon’s mother,” d’Brouchart told him simply.

  “Pardon me?” Luke frowned at him.

  “She is Simon’s mother,” the Master repeated. “She came on the pretense of seeing her son. I am not sure of any other motivations she may have had behind her visit.”

  “But I thought his mother was dead,” Luke said quietly and leaned against the door, suddenly sorry that he had wanted to know.

  “We allowed that illusion, yes. It was for everyone’s protection.” The Master leaned forward. “Catharine!” he called her name and shook her shoulder. She had a bruise on her chin and another on her cheek.

  She moaned softly and then her eyes opened. A quick move to sit up caused her to cry out in pain and fall back.

  “Be still, Catharine!” d’Brouchart told her and sat back again. She raised one hand to her face and then pressed it against her ribs, breathing hard.

  “Mon dieu!” she said and turned her face toward him. “Edgard! The man! Did they catch the man?!” she asked excitedly.

  “What man, Catharine?” he asked blandly. “Why would you come here to kill Dambretti? Did you change your mind?”

  “What?” She blinked at him.

  “I said, did you change your mind? Did you decide that you did not want him anymore?”

  “I don’t know what you are talking about. There was a man! He went into the hall! He was terrible! Evil.”

  “I’m sure he was. I don’t understand. Why? What did Eduord have to gain by all of this? Why would he want to attack my Knight when I was so near at hand? Why not simply go after me?”

  “It was not Eduord!” she cried desperately. “Eduord! I must see Eduord! You must help me up. Let me go. I have to see my brother!”

  She tried to get up again and the pain grabbed her.

  “You may have a broken rib or two.”

  “Simon,” she groaned and fell back again. “Simon thinks I did it.”

  “What do you expect?” Edgard shook his head. “Look at your hands!”

  She held up her hands. They were covered with Lucio’s blood. Dried now and disgusting.

  “I didn’t do it! I love him, Edgard! Why would I kill him?”

  “I don’t know.” He leaned forward again. “So you love him? I see. And this is what Ramsay was trying to ask me. What did you do to him, Catharine?”

  “I didn’t do anything to him. I came to see my son. I didn’t know that he would be here.”

  “You are lying!” Edgard spat the words. “You will stay here in our custody until Simon is awake and we will ask him.”

  “He doesn’t know what happened!” she said and began to cry. “He didn’t see. It was someone else. Surely you could look about for clues. Whoever set your fire is the murderer.”

  “Of course.” Edgard stood up. “I will send someone to tend to you, but do not push me, Catharine.”

  “You must listen to me, Edgard!” she called to him as he got up and walked toward the door. “There is a terrible danger. I must see Eduord!”

  Luke moved aside and allowed the Master to exit. He stopped in the door way.

  “We will have a meeting and discuss this as soon as we have everything under control,” he told the Knight. “There is more here than meets the eye. I will send someone to relieve you shortly.”

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  Everything went out of control again when Eduord de Goth reached the estate just after one AM. The near hysterical man boldly rang the door bell and then beat on the front door, bringing everyone downstairs with the exception of Luke Andrew who was on watch in Catharine’s room.

  The Grand Master opened the door personally, flanked by Stephano, Simeon and Luke Matthew. Both Stephano and the Knight were wearing concealed sidearms as per the Master’s instructions. He was quite certain that things were going to go from bad to worse very shortly. The arrival of Catharine’s brother fulfilled his prophecy though he had expected a more formidable force than the lone man.

  “Where is my sister, Edgard!” the man demanded at once. He had thrown caution to the wind. The time had come for action, decisive and quick even if deadly and dangerous.

  “She is here where you left her.”

  “I did not leave her here! What are you talking about?”

  Eduord backed up a step and Luke Matthew placed one hand on the butt of his pistol.

  “Why did you try to kill Lucio Dambretti?” Edgard countered. “I find it very hard to believe that you would show your face here.”

  “I did no such thing. I don’t know what you are talking about, Edgard! Catharine came here to see her son. What have you done with her?”

  “I will keep her until this is cleared up,” the Master told him. “If you did not murder him, then she did! Why?”

  “You are insane! Why would she do something like that?” Eduord asked as he backed down another step and raised his hands slightly indicating his lack of a weapon. Luke Matthew took a step forward and d’Brouchart held up his hand.

  “She will explain it to my satisfaction or she will be hung.” D’Brouchart eyed the man steadily. “And if you are not careful, you will join her.”

  “I will be back, Monsieur!” Eduord said and continued to back down the steps to the sidewalk and out toward the line of cars. Another man emerged from the sleek, black Jaguar S-type sedan and held the rear door open for him.

  “Don’t let him go!” Luke Matthew said. He tried to get by the Master, but d'Brouchart held onto his arm.

  “No! Let him go. He will not go far.”

  They retreated inside and Edgard slammed the door. They watched from the windows as th
e man got into his car and drove away.

  “This is most peculiar,” he said. “We will know the truth. Where is Konrad von Hetz when we need him?”

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  Oriel was still in the bedroom, crying, when she heard the front door of their apartment open and then close softly. Louis was back. After the terrible scene in front of Barry of Sussex, he had dragged the Seneschal forcibly out of the apartment and slammed the door in her face when she had tried to follow them. She did not understand what she had done wrong. She had never had a fight with Louis of such a serious nature and her feelings were deeply hurt.

  He opened the bedroom door very slowly and she opened one eye to watch him from where she lay with her face half-buried in the pillow.

  “Orri?” his voice drifted into the pre-dawn stillness of the room.

  “Louis,” her voice was flat and muffled by the pillow.

  “Orri,” he said again.

  When she did not answer, he sat down on the bed and placed one hand on the small of her back. “I am sorry. I should not have yelled at you in front of Barry. No! I should not have yelled at you in front of myself.”

  “Louie!” She turned over on her back and wiped her eyes.

  To Louis, she looked like a small child and he felt like a monster!

  “I’m sorry, Orri,” he apologized again and bent to kiss her nose lightly. “Can you forgive a very old, very foolish man?”

  “I can forgive you, but I cannot understand you!” She pushed herself up to lean against the pillows. “I am dreadfully worried about you, Louie. I was only trying to understand why you had become so depressed. I thought perhaps Sir Barry could shed some light on it. He seemed very depressed and upset himself.”

  “That is understandable.” Louis climbed over her and leaned against the headboard and she snuggled next to him. “He is still upset about Guy’s death. We are all upset about that, but more importantly, he has been trying to learn why it happened. Things are very strange now.”