Barry shouted to them and they broke into a dead run toward the buildings where tongues of red flame could already be seen licking the eaves of the roofs on both buildings. Michael Ian rushed from the front doors of the dormitory and was set upon by two men dressed in black. Christopher went to his aid. Lavon entered the burning building in search of the other boys while Barry, Nicholas and Gregory charged off toward the chapel.
The air was filled with screams and shouts, as the students ran out of the burning building. The medical staff evacuated their own building, adding to the confusion, becoming victims instead of first responders. Christopher, Michael and Galen fought off the two men in front of the dorm. Michael and Christopher got the better of one of them, while the other escaped into the darkness after slashing Galen across the face with long-bladed knife. Two of the students chased after him, but soon returned as they carried no weapons and lost sight of the quarry under the trees. They dragged the Golden Eagle's bloodied son further from the fire. Christopher handed Michael one of his daggers after he had dispatched the man with a deadly blow to the side of his neck and then ran off in search of Barry and the others.
Lavon made sure that everyone was out of the building with a roster count and stood vigilance with Michael, watching for signs of the invaders as the medics gathered their wits and attended to Galen’s injury. It was impossible to tell what was happening.
Barry and his companions helped the old priest and his two assistant’s out of the refectory which had been damaged by a small explosion, but was not burning. The chapel doors were on fire, hanging lopsidedly in their frames. They saw several more of the darkly clad men, running hither and thither, but they would not come near enough to engage them as they dragged the three terrified clerics toward the tight knot of people in front of the dormitory. Several of the groundskeepers and other staff had arrived and were in the process of putting out the fire in the dorm with fire hoses and fire extinguishers.
No one had gotten a good look at any of the men who had come so quickly and were now apparently retreating.
“What happened?!” Barry demanded of Michael as he inspected the wound on Galen’s left cheek. It was ugly, but not fatal.
“I don’t know, Sir,” Michael answered him. “We were all asleep! We heard an explosion!”
“What did they want?!” Christopher shouted the question on everyone’s minds. It was difficult to hear above the wailing of the alarms that had joined the melee as their dark ‘friends’ made their way recklessly back down the hill toward the highway.
“That remains to be seen,” Lavon answered him. “We will have to inspect the chapel!”
He started off in that direction with Christopher, Gregory and Nicholas close behind him.
Michael and Barry found the dead man and turned him on his back. He was, or had been, a tall, very pale fellow with numerous tattoos on his muscular body. He wore several silver earrings in one ear and black markings on his face and around his eyes under a black knit ski mask. His dark hair was long and unkempt.
Barry was at a loss as to what this was all about and who the perpetrators might have been. When everyone was accounted for, they found they had lost three members. One of the medics had been killed and left in the grass beside the sidewalk in front of the main building. No one knew why he had been out front at that hour. They had found Louis Champlain, severely wounded near the stone wall at the base of the hill where he had pursued the retreating force with only his sword. He had been overpowered and stabbed several times after they had him, but the blood stains on the ground indicated that more than one of them had received the bad end of the Frankish sword. They found no other traces of them. Worst of all, two of the students, aged twelve and fourteen had died in the explosion and the resulting fire in the dormitory.
When daylight arrived, they learned that the chapel had been the object of the attack. In a very short period of time, several priceless relics had been taken from the altar and many more had been scattered about haphazardly. But even the relics that were missing had very little value in regard to the Order’s existence. The death of the three Templars was a devastating blow to Barry and the Grand Master was equally appalled to hear of it. He had assured the Seneschal that he would be home on the next available flight and that he would bring some of the men from the Isle of Ramsay with him to reinforce the security at the Villa. When Barry described the man that Christopher had killed, he’d heard nothing from the other end of the phone for several long seconds. He knew full well that the Grand Master knew who was behind this brutal attack, but the man was not going to tell him until he saw him in person, or… he was not going to tell him at all. Meanwhile, Barry had four dead bodies to take care of and two dozen live ones to keep alive. If he knew where the enemy was, he would have no problem, but he didn’t even know who the enemy was. Even the postman would be suspect. He groaned inwardly as he heard the distant sirens of a civilian police car. They would have to work quickly.
(((((((((((((
Mark Andrew walked along the length of the porch and stopped at the corner to admire the perfectly kept lawn, stretching from the house to the beginnings of the gardens and trees beyond. Astro and Scooby would have enjoyed this. The second thought that came unbidden to his mind was how indefensible this place was. The third thought was how much Meredith would have loved it. He wondered that he had never thought to bring her here when she had asked him to take her places. The small portrait seemed very heavy in his pocket and he pulled it out to look at her face.
The sun was sinking, almost gone. The birds were settling noisily into their roosts in the nearest trees and several of the larger cranes were winging their way down to the lake for the night. He went back inside to the billiard room where Konrad was teaching Levi to play eight ball. Mark had never seen the point of the game. The antique table and sticks were almost priceless and he doubted that anyone had actually played with them or touched them other than for cleaning for a hundred years or more. Levi was very awkward with the long, heavy cue stick, but Konrad seemed quite adept at it, explaining the art of banking and angles and the precise points of impact to make the best shots to the priest. The Knight of Death stood sipping a glass of Scotch, watching them with vague interest. He appraised the Healer’s son for the first time.
Levi was certainly an anomaly amongst the Healer’s eleven sons. He was at least a head taller than all of them and probably weighed sixty to eighty pounds more. His hair was thicker and full of waves. Mark tried to remember what the priest’s mother had looked like. He remembered her eyes, deep brown, large and full of warmth. He remembered her hair, very black and curly, but he could not truly remember what she had looked like, but he did know that Simon had made her look small which meant that Levi had not gotten his build from his petite mother unless she was an anomaly in her own family.
The priest reminded Mark of the Varangian palace guards he had seen in Constantinople in the elder days. Viking stock. Very powerful. His muscles rippled under his black, short-sleeved shirt as he bent over the table, trying to keep from ripping the felt cloth on the surface with his clumsy shooting. He hit the ball too low, causing it to leap over the ball he was aiming for. Konrad shook his head. The Knight of the Apocalypse had removed the pegs from the table in order to shoot regular pool rather than billiards. “Too low!” Konrad put the cue ball back where it had been and then showed the priest exactly where he should have struck the ball. “Now watch.”
Mark Andrew watched with some measure of interest as Konrad raised the cue to an almost completely vertical angle above the cue ball and executed an almost perfect masse`… almost perfect. The ball spun out and around the ball in front of it and tapped the one behind very lightly. Too lightly. The nine ball teetered very close to the pocket, but stayed put.
“Saints in heaven!” Levi exclaimed. “That is incredible.”
“Close only counts in pitching pennies,” Mark Andrew muttered.
“And shuffleboard
and horseshoes,” Konrad added as he bumped the table with his hip and the ball slipped into the pocket. “If at first you fricassee, fry, fry again.”
Levi grinned at him and looked doubtfully at the object of his next play. An impossible angle. The dark Knight’s lanky flexibility allowed him to lean far onto the table, holding the stick above the surface to make the desired shot. Every time Levi had tried to lean out far enough to take the shot, he would fall on his elbows. Now the ball was back in almost the same exact same spot as his last move.
“Now remember what I showed you and don’t put too much English on it.” Konrad told him.
“Wait!” Levi said and stood up narrowing his eyes at the arrangement. He walked slowly around the table and stopped on the opposite side. “I cannot put English on it. I am French and Italian.”
“You’ll never make that!” Konrad laughed.
“Never say never,” Levi told him solemnly and leaned down to concentrate on the balls. He smiled slightly and then made the shot. The cue ball smacked the six ball solidly and stopped dead in its tracks as the other ball absorbed the energy and shot across the table narrowly missing two other balls. It bounced off the side of the table, shot back to the other side, bounced off again, came back through the thick of the colorful marble balls and smacked the exact number he needed into the desired pocket.
“Voila`!” Levi raised up and smiled triumphantly at the astonished Konrad. “I think I have the hang of it now.”
“Oh, do you?” Konrad frowned as the priest prepared to take his second shot. “You were just extremely lucky!”
“We will see, Master Konrad, but I do not believe in luck.” Levi positioned his elbow carefully on the felt. “I believe that we must assess the situation, apply what skills and knowledge we have at our disposal and leave the rest to God.” He made another shot and sank two more balls in the corner pocket.
Konrad leaned on his stick and watched this with great surprise. He glanced at Mark Andrew and then frowned.
“You mean to tell me that you prayed to God for the skill to beat me?” Konrad looked worried.
“I did not pray to God for such a trivial thing.” Levi moved around the table. “I simply invited him to join the game on my side. If it pleases him to win the match, then I will win.” He made another shot and cut his objective down to two. Konrad had five left to sink.
Levi turned the game over to Konrad, when he had only one ball left to win.
Konrad made two shots and then Levi won with no trouble.
“I would suggest that you also invite God to join us when we go out to the garden, my son.” Mark actually chuckled at the look on Konrad’s face when Levi apologized for winning unfairly.
“If you think you won unfairly, then I should think that you would simply allow God to be a spectator and play on your own,” Konrad suggested as he set the table up for another round.
“God is always a spectator, Master.” Levi smiled at him. “Didn’t you know that? And I would not presume to allow Him to do anything. Apparently, He likes a good game of billiards. As to your suggestion, Master Ramsay, God walks with me always as I try diligently to walk with Him. He will be there with us. Have no doubt.”
“That makes me feel better.” Mark nodded. He could only take the priest at his word. “As soon as it is full dark, we’ll go. Be sure to arm yourselves and don’t forget to bring the case.”
“Are we expecting trouble?” Levi asked him tentatively.
“I am always expecting trouble and so far, I've never been disappointed.” Mark Andrew sat down in one of plush brocaded chairs and looked out the broad windows overlooking the rear lawns.
“Then let’s hope that you are in for a great disappointment this time.” Levi watched carefully as the dark Knight removed the triangular frame from the balls.
“Your break, my son.” Konrad stepped back. He had not taught the priest anything about breaking.
“Ahhh. My teacher abandons me!” Levi laughed softly and stepped up to the table. “Let’s see what damage we can do. The cue ball reminds me of the foolish Knight who would ride out to face the enemy in single combat against overwhelming odds. But one must remember that it is not the number that counts, but the determination. One fully armored Knight on horseback can rout a considerable force of enemy troops with the right attitude. Attitude is simple a matter of mathematics. Our own history teaches us this. Prepare yourself, my little black friend, I will rescue you from the midst of your enemies and we will take the field triumphantly.”
“Oh, now you are bragging! God does not approve of braggarts!” Konrad told him.
“I am not bragging.” Levi looked hurt. “I am merely voicing my plans aloud… allowing the enemy to hear what I have in mind. Giving them the opportunity to withdraw in peace.”
“He has been listening to his father,” Mark Andrew said.
Konrad shook his head and the priest made a grand break, sending the balls hither and thither all over the table. Konrad’s skepticism faded as he watched his opponent sink one ball after another with the skill of a seasoned pro.
Konrad barely had the opportunity to play twice before the priest had the game again.
“That’s it. I give up!” Konrad said in disgust as he took his stick back to the rack. “I don’t want to be a bad sport, but you are cheating. I would never have presumed to ask God to be on my side to win a game.”
“Then you should,” Levi told him. “If you had invited Him to play, then we would have been more evenly matched.”
“You mean to tell me that he would have played on both sides?” Konrad frowned at him.
“Of course. Then the outcome would have depended more on our own skills and determination. Do you not believe that in every war, every battle that God is with at least some of the warriors on both sides?”
Konrad pursed his lips thoughtfully.
“How else would we have survivors?” Levi asked him. “There are occasions when God has deserted one side or another and all have been lost, but they are rare.”
Konrad had to agree with this line of thinking. Mark continued to stare out the window, nodding his head in slow approval of Levi's summations.
Levi stretched his arms over his head and yawned.
“I am going upstairs for a bit of prayer,” the priest told them. “What time shall we meet back here?”
“Ten o’clock should do.” Mark Andrew stood up. “I’d like to look over the house before we go. Konrad?”
“Sure. Why not? I like big old spooky places full of nooks and crannies and secret passages.”
Mark headed out of the room and then stopped. He watched as Levi gathered his jacket and walked toward the door. He could not get over Levi James d’Ornan’s startling appearance. Mark had always considered Simon a cut above, somehow just a bit holier than the average righteous man, but Levi… Mark tore his eyes away from the priest and turned to Konrad. “We’ll start on the third floor and make our way down and then we’ll check the carriage house… just in case.”
“Just in case,” Konrad repeated as he followed the Knight dejectedly. He’d always thought himself quite skilled at the game of pool and he wondered if he had just been had.
(((((((((((((
“You should not be up!” Merry told him adamantly and put her hands on her hips as he eased himself onto the bench at the table. “Luke said that you should stay in bed until tomorrow.” She had red smears and blue smudges all over her white apron and what appeared to be whipped cream spattered on her face.
“Thank you, mama mia,” Lucio waved one hand at her in dismissal. “I think I can know when I am ready to be up and I am ready to be up!” He leaned both elbows on the table gingerly. “Do you have some coffee?”
“Gil!” Merry turned on the cook. “Get him some coffee. He needs coffee!” She turned her mixer back on. “Just pour it on his head.”
Gil laughed at her and brought the Italian a cup of his dark French brew.
Lucio grimaced at the cup and looked up at the chef. “When are you going to get some real coffee?”
“This is real coffee, Monsieur le Knight.” Gil poured real cream into his cup and added real cane sugar, expensive commodities. “This will heal you up right well. Let me have a look at your trusses. I have opened a few carcasses in my day. I can snip them out for you, no? Snip! Snip! Snip!” Gil made scissors motions with his fingers.
“Get away from me!” Lucio pushed at him. “Snippa, snippa, snippa. I’ll snippa you.”
Merry turned off the mixer, brought the bowl of sweetened whipped cream to the table and sat down next to Lucio.
“You have to let someone take them out, Lucio,” she said and then began to spread the cream on a torte made with blueberries and strawberries. “You can’t leave them in there.”
“I can leave them in there.” He nodded his head and sipped the coffee. “They are no problem.”
“That’s silly.” She slapped the spatula full of cream on the top of the torte and spattered him with a blob of the creamy mixture. “Oh! I’m sorry.” She scooped the cream off his nose. “Would you like some cake?”
“No, thank you, just some peace,” he told her as he wiped his nose.
“That reminds me,” she lowered her voice and glanced over her shoulder at the old cook. He was stirring something at the stove and humming to himself now. “Why was that woman in your room? Did you know her?”
“I don’t know and I don’t know.” He turned his dark, brooding eyes on her in consternation.
“You don’t know if you know her?” Merry frowned.
“I don’t think I know her. No,” he said and looked away from her.
“She knew you,” Merry lowered her voice even further. “Now she is in Mark’s chapel on St. Simon’s. Aren’t you going to say something in her defense? I think she might have been trying to help you.”
Thoth, the Atlantean Page 30