Thoth, the Atlantean

by Brendan Carroll

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  “I miss him.” Il Dolce Mio pushed himself up and looked away to the east. The sun was rising now.

  “But you said you could not hold him any longer!” The Mighty Djinni swayed across the roof after his smaller brother. “You said that…”

  “I know what I said,” Il Dolce Mio sounded just like his father when he was aggravated. “But I miss him, never-the-less. I should like to visit with him.”

  “But it would be dangerous for you to leave here.” The Djinni waved one hand toward the tops of the great trees. “You said that…”

  “I know what I said, my royal brother!” Il Dolce Mio turned on him, frowning fiercely. “Can a King who is half-man, not make half-mistakes? What I said was only half true.”

  “Ohhhh.” The Djinni nodded his head. “I see. And which part was true?”

  “The first part! I cannot hold him any longer.” Il Dolce Mio leapt lightly to the top of the nearest parapet and went down on one knee. “But the second part about not wanting to see him ever again was a lie.”

  “A lie!” Lemarik was shocked his countenance pulsed a light purple. “You lied?”

  “Yes! I know it is a sin and I would repent it to you because there are no men to repent it to here and I know that you would understand. I cannot tell my people that I lied. That would not be good. My father, the King, does not lie. He would be very angry with me.” Il Dolce Mio brushed back his hair and four red petals drifted out and down the side of the castle. “I think that I will go and visit him before he leaves the North. I am told that he will be going with my father, Lucius of Venetia, very soon to the South and will learn to be a man. I may not see him for a long time. I feel as if he were my own son, at least he is my brother in spirit since he is Lucius’ son. We cannot lose touch with our families, my brother. That is why I am most pleased to receive you when you come. My father, the King, has gone far to the West, beyond the sea in a great aeroplane. He commands many lands there!”

  “He does?” Lemarik did not know this.

  “Yes. Yes. Yes. A great place in the wilderness near a beautiful lake. There are mountains and trees and many deer there. I have seen this place. He goes to find something important to the Order and he has taken the son of the Healer with him. The great son of the healer. A giant!” Il Dolce Mio’s face lit up. He stood up and raised his slender arms flexing the muscles there. “Such a giant can instill fear even into the hearts of the most deadly foe. The Healer must be very proud to have produced such a son. Ahh.” He sat down again and tapped his thumbnail against his teeth in perfect imitation of his father. “I would have sons myself, but I have no queen.”

  “You would marry?” Lemarik climbed onto the parapet and sat next to him.

  “I would, if I could find a beautiful bride and one with a strong heart. Perhaps a human woman would be even better suited to my needs. Since I am half-human, I can choose either way. Elven or human. But they are all so tall! She would have to ride a very small pony or her head would always be taller than mine!” The King laughed. “My father says ‘never take a woman who can look you in the eye’, but he does not always follow his own advice. The Royal wife was very tall, but not as tall as my father, though she could no less look him in the eye when she needed to do it. I wonder if taking a woman who sees over one’s head is dangerous? I should think that such a wife would be useful in certain situations. She could see farther in dangerous areas”

  “That is true,” Lemarik agreed. His purple aura had faded.

  “Do you know anyone who might make a good queen for me?” The diminutive monarch turned his deep blue eyes on his brother. He was certainly a fine looking elf though darker in complexion and hair than most of his subjects.

  “You would do better to take up the matter with our father,” the Djinni told him. He could not help but think of his little brother as too young to marry. “I know very few short ladies. When will you go to visit?”

  “Very soon.” The King stood up again and looked at the great ball of the sun rising over the trees.

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  Konrad frowned and held up the small map in front of his face. Mark Andrew was driving the rented Mercedes and Levi was sleeping the back seat, somewhat cramped for his large figure, but he was young and rather flexible.

  “Everything is here,” Konrad said after a moment’s contemplation. He laughed shortly and began to read the names from the map. They were traveling on Interstate Highway 90 toward the setting sun. “Here we have Geneva, Ithaca, Batavia, Lancaster, Auburn, Greece, Brighton. They certainly squeezed a great deal into a small space!” He laughed again. “And don’t forget Ton-a-wanda! Ugh, me thinks this map is full of bat shit.”

  “Konrad.” Mark Andrew glanced at the Knight, his former very unruly apprentice, and shook his head. He had almost forgotten what the younger Konrad had been like when he’d first met him snooping about his castle in the underworld.

  “But look!” He held the folded piece of laminated paper in front of the Knight of Death’s face. Mark pushed it away quickly. “Dunkirk! We’ve driven all the way around the world and come home!”

  “I assure you, Brother, America is much bigger than you think!” Mark Andrew told him. “Now how far are we from 390?”

  Konrad squinted into the rays of the sun and put one hand over his eyes. “Me see sign up ahead, Kimosabe! Sign say ‘you lost, Brother!’ Why did we not just take the Manchester/Shortsville Exit from 90 and go down? This is a waste of time! “

  “How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! how art thou cut down to the ground, which didst weaken the nations! For thou hast said in thine heart, I will ascend into heaven, I will exalt my throne above the stars of God: I will sit also upon the mount of the congregation, in the sides of the north. That is Isaiah Chapter 14, verses 12 and 13,” Mark told him. “It has always been my habit to avoid coming from the north, Brother. Call it what you will. But it is never a waste of time to pay attention to the words of the Fathers and it is always a good idea to come from the west in the afternoon and from the east in the morning. Sound military strategy. Did you learn nothing from Brother Guy?”

  Konrad narrowed his eyes sharply. He’d never known Mark Andrew to quote many scriptures.

  “And stop it with the Indian thing, Konrad. You would disrespect the ancient ones who lived in these lands. Not wise.” Mark sighed. Ever since the Knight of the Apocalypse had found all of the Indian names on the map, he had been running the Indian thing in the ground.

  Konrad was obviously going stir crazy. He had wanted to drive, but Mark had been too nervous to just sit on the passenger side doing nothing.

  “We should be just about there.” Konrad shifted his long legs in front of him and sighed. He looked out the window with his mouth hanging open in a mock wonder, pressing his face against the window like a small child as they passed a car load of teen-aged girls. They pointed at him and laughed and then showed him some interesting hand gestures.

  He waved congenially to them and returned his attention to the road. Sometimes he could barely remember his earlier life when he had been a complete asshole, but it was good to exercise the art once in a while before he lost it altogether.

  “Women like us. They want to do things with us. Fun things,” he commented dryly and Mark frowned at him as if he had lost his mind which was very near the truth. “Ah! There!” He pointed to an actual sign and Mark Andrew slowed down, changed lanes and prepared to make the exit onto the highway that would lead south to another road which would lead back east to the town of Canandaigua. He had wanted to come at the town from the west rather than the north with the sun at their backs. A long-standing habit that he tried to practice whenever he was approaching an unknown quarry. It hardly mattered that they were traveling in a brand new car on an Interstate Highway rather than horseback and it was most likely possible that no foes would be riding out to meet them with the sun in their eyes. Old habi
ts were hard to break.

  “And where will we be staying?” a voice from the rear seat made them both jump. Levi had awakened.

  “We have reservations at a fine Best Western,” Konrad told him. “It has all the amenities. Running water. Indoor toilet and central fire pit. Bring your own spears and tomahawks.”

  “Fur pity’s sake, Konrad!” Mark Andrew groaned in aggravation.

  “This is beautiful country.” Levi looked out the front window between them, leaning his arms on the console. Hills, trees, gorges, exposed bedrock. “Nothing like what I expected for New York. Where are all the buildings?”

  “Not all of the state is New York City, Brother,” Mark Andrew explained. “This is where many of the city-dwellers come to relax and enjoy nature. Fishing, hunting. That sort of thing. If they can afford it.”

  “Is it expensive to come here?” Konrad looked about. Money had never meant much to him. He’d never suffered from a lack of cash or credit.

  “If you had to work for a living, it would be,” Mark said derisively.

  “You cut me to the bone,” Konrad clutched his chest. “I do work! I work very hard!” he moaned. “In fact, it is difficult labor just crawling out of bed sometimes.”

  “I understand the feeling,” Levi agreed.

  “I have a card here.” Mark began to dig about in the pockets of his cargo pants. He had ditched the suit and tie before they’d left the airport, donning his more familiar, more comfortable attire. He pulled out a small gold and black business card with the words Sonnenburg Gardens scrolled elegantly across the top. Below it was an address, phone number, the usual and on the back a name and another phone number were hastily scrawled. “When we get to the motel, we will call Mr. Jackson. He will arrange the rest.”

  “Mr. Jackson! How ominous,” Konrad squinted at the card as the sun blinded him from the right. “Who is this Mr. Jackson?”

  “He is the overseer of Sonnenburg,” Mark Andrew told him.

  “Ahh and I thought Sonnenburg was in Austria all this time. When did they move it?” Konrad asked and then cringed as Mark shot him another dark look.

  Levi had to laugh at the Germanic Knight’s dry, sarcastic humor. He had had reservations about coming on this trip with the brooding Knight of the Apocalypse, but Konrad had kept them laughing, or at least, he’d kept Levi laughing. Mark Andrew did not seem as appreciative of Konrad’s sense of humor as he was.

  “And then where will we be going, sir?” Levi asked their leader.

  “To Sonnenburg Gardens,” he answered abstractedly.

  Konrad pulled his lap top from the floor and plugged it into the car’s modem system. Within the space of few seconds, he had pulled up an enormous database filled with information about Sonnenburg Gardens located on Charlotte Street in Canandaigua. The place was a paradise and apparently a very popular tourist attraction. The front entrance was depicted by a full-color photograph of an impressive iron gate flanked by tall stone columns, beyond which could be seen lush green scenery.

  “The place looks formidable.” Konrad scrolled through the still photographs and virtual tours offered by the website. “It says here that there is a tram service available for visitors who wish to see the estate, but don’t want to walk. It must be huge! And look at this.” Konrad turned the laptop so that Levi could look at the mansion. “That reminds me of someone.” He glanced at Mark Andrew. The mansion was grand. An imposing structure built in the Queen Anne style, three stories high with a lead and copper slated roof, multiple gables of half timber and stucco. The main part of the building was made of graystone and trimmed with sandstone. Numerous windows covered the facade and long porches wrapped around the ground floor on one side. There was a conical roof on one of the corners over a rounded set of turret rooms with stained glass windows. “Very impressive. But a bit gaudy for my tastes!” Konrad laughed. “I wonder who lives there.”

  “No one lives there,” Mark Andrew supplied the answer. “It used to serve the nurses from a nearby hospital as a residence. No one lives there.” He reiterated and his tone made Konrad sit up straighter. There was something here that the Knight of Death was not telling.

  “What a waste.” Levi frowned at the picture of the immense structure situated on a picture perfect lawn. “It would make a wonderful refuge for reflection and meditation or perhaps an orphanage!”

  “It would make many things, Father.” Mark agreed. “But it is better as it is. People come to look at it and then they leave.”

  “But it has forty rooms and cross-breezes,” Konrad pretended to mourn the structure. A dawning suspicion made him cut his eyes at the driver. “Perhaps we should buy it and make it our summer retreat. The name Sonnenburg is German for ‘sunny hill’, you know. We could use a good little spot to use for recreation and meditation.”

  “We don’t need to buy it, Konrad.” Mark turned his deep blue eyes on the Knight. “We already own it. I managed to buy it back right after the war.”

  “Buy it back?” Konrad’s eyes widened. Mark Andrew never ceased to amaze him.

  “Yes. We lost it during the American reformation at the end of the war, but things are looking up.” He smiled.

  “Then it should be no problem.” Konrad frowned and his expression took on a more somber air. Mark Andrew had confirmed his suspicion. Sonnenburg was like St. Patrick’s and the Isle of Man. Ramsay acquisitions. He wondered what he would have done if he’d had a chance to live his entire life over again. “Is that where the artifacts are hidden?”

  “It is.” Mark Andrew nodded.

  “Why would you hide something there, if I may ask? It would seem to be a dangerous place to hide something like that.” Levi was shocked. He had expected to find what they were looking for in some remote wilderness area accessible only by foot and pack mules!

  “There was nothing there but Indians when I hid the box,” Mark said and smiled slightly. “Things change.”

  “So you hid the treasures of the Templars in America?” Konrad laughed. “I read some vague articles that suggested that some of the Templar ships and booty ended up in America. Years before the official ‘discovery’ of the continent by Columbus. Let’s see… that would be about a hundred and eighty-five years before Chris. So you are really the discoverer of America! I will start a petition at once to have your name inserted in the historical texts in place of Christopher Columbus. Tell me, would it be possible to find something that you have not done, seen, said or been at some time or another? Do you consider yourself a Renaissance Man?”

  “O' carse not!” Mark Andrew frowned at him again. “Christopher Columbus did not discover America. It was never lost. Just forgotten. And in answer to your question, I did not come here as a Templar, Brother. Your estimate is about… let’s see… 10,315 years late, give or take a few years.”

  “What?!” Both of his passengers gasped in unison.

  Mark just smiled wickedly out the windshield and kept driving.

  Konrad fell silent and Levi leaned back in the seat.

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  Oriel was devastated by the news from Lothian. She called the estate to speak with her father about his mother and had, instead, received a ‘briefing’ from Simeon about the terrible incident concerning Catharine de Goth and Sir Dambretti. She sat in the car, staring out the window listlessly as Louis drove her to the airport in Naples. He was sending her to St. Patrick’s to visit with Lydia Schumacher and Rachel and the rest of her family there. He sternly forbade her from going to Lothian. He agreed entirely with Edgard d’Brouchart that it would not be a good idea for her to go there with Eduord de Goth in the local vicinity. The man was dangerous and still likely angry with d'Brouchart for placing Catharine under arrest. Her father was not yet recovered, still unconscious, but well and under careful watch at all times. Louis’ prediction that it would not be good if Edgard and Catharine met again had been proved out even before he had spoken them. Oriel could not accept the idea that her grandmother, eve
n though she’d never laid eyes on her, could have committed such a horrendous crime. In Orri's mind it was simply not possible.

  Barry had received an encoded message from d’Brouchart through New Babylon that Catharine had been sent to St. Patrick’s Island with Omar’s blessings and assistance and Barry had passed the information along to Louis and the rest of the Knights at the Villa.

  Louis admonished Oriel gently again and again not to try to make contact with her grandmother until they knew more. He had tried to be sympathetic and supportive of his wife in her distress, but he was angry! Angry that this woman had appeared out of nowhere and in a very short time begun to wreak more havoc on their very fragile existence. He’d had very little time with Oriel under peaceful conditions and he resented every intrusion into their lives to the point desperation every time something new threatened to keep them apart. Now she was going off to St. Patrick’s. A million miles away!

  Barry had suggested it and Orri had jumped on the idea. Barry would pay! Lydia Schumacher d’Ornan was at St. Patrick’s while Simon was in Scotland and Rachel gone there to visit her brothers to make plans for the wedding. Barry had agreed to spend their brief honeymoon on the Isle of Ramsay. He would go no further and he did not want to travel into any other countries, fearing that something would happen and they would be cut off from the Order.

  Louis did not want her to go, but she was the only female in the Villa. But he had grown very use to having her with him. They were together and that was all that married to him. Barry had pointed out that she was in need of ‘feminine company’ whatever that meant. Louis had no idea what that had to do with anything, but Oriel had been agreeable to the trip claiming that Rachel needed her help with the wedding plans. Louis knew quite well that his little Orri, alas, would not follow his instructions very long at any rate.