by D. N. Carter
“I could not sleep. I feel too awake here in this place. I just came to say a prayer for Father that is all. He was on guard I suspect and was just making polite conversation. That is all,” Alisha explained and held him tightly, her mind racing over the Hospitaller’s comments.
The journey down towards Frejus and its small port was one filled with stunning scenery. Paul and Alisha sat in the cool shade at the rear of the caravan looking out through an opened small side window slot, whilst Sister Lucy and Rick sat at the small table opposite each other. Sister Lucy had briefly explained that she indeed did know Rick from years ago when he delivered wine to La Rochelle for Holy Communion service. It was a lie she was prepared to make temporarily until Rick could tell her where he had been and why he had been declared dead many years previously.
Paul just watched the countryside pass them by deep in thought as to why the pilgrims and the mob the day before had acted in such a strange manner. Alisha held the little Mother Goddess and bee necklace in her hand and studied it carefully as they journeyed on. Paul looked at the unsheathed sword his father had given him, now placed upon the table and pondered upon his words about how ‘it’ had chosen him. This puzzled him immensely, having studied every facet of its design and construction. It felt remarkably light for its size he had to confess.
4 – 4
“So, where are we heading?” Rick asked and coughed in pain.
“Who said you were coming?” Sister Lucy shot back but smiled at him. Both Paul and Alisha noticed this.
“Rick, you may come with us as far as you wish. We are heading to Alexandria via Cyprus,” Paul replied as Alisha rubbed her tummy.
“Alexandria eh?” Rick remarked and looked at Sister Lucy with a raised eyebrow.
“Why, do you see that as a problem?” Paul asked, seeing his reaction.
“Oh no…Not at all. In fact it is perhaps the wisest thing I have heard in a long time. Do you know whereabouts in Alexandria you will be staying?”
“Yes. My father has given us deeds of one of his places presently maintained by members from a Nazarene sect. I believe that is who they are. Sister Lucy would know,” Paul answered.
“The property does indeed sit next to a larger complex which is home to a sect of Nazarenes. They also run a very good school, which could prove very beneficial to your newborn boy as he grows,” Sister Lucy commented.
“What if it’s a girl?” Rick asked.
“’Tis a boy,” Alisha smiled in reply.
“You know you are not a man until you have made a woman,” Rick joked.
“Ignore him,” Sister Lucy shot back as the caravan went over a large bump in the road.
“Paul. Do you still have the little gift I gave you last time we met?”
“Of course I do.”
“Did you manage to learn what it meant and stands for though?”
“That I also did, with the help of Niccolas,” Paul answered then looked at Sister Lucy and feigned a brave smile.
“What?” Rick asked.
“Niccolas…I am afraid to tell you that, sadly, he was murdered just this past week,” Sister Lucy explained.
Rick sat himself up straight and looked at them all surprised.
“By whom?” he asked clearly shaken by the news.
“Gerard or someone linked to him,” Paul answered.
“Paul, do not jump to conclusions. We do not know that for certain. We may never know,” Sister Lucy interrupted.
“That is sad news indeed, for he could have taught you much on the Nazarene sect in Alexandria,” Rick sighed and shook his head sadly.
“He already told a little about them. He did explain that the term ‘Jesus of Nazareth’ was planted in the Bible in a clumsy attempt to disguise its Egyptian and Persian origins of the ‘Sect of the Nazarenes’. And that they still have three main centres for learning, one being next to where we shall be staying,” Paul explained.
“He was a great man. That is truly a great loss,” Rick exclaimed and shook his head sadly. “But tell me, how are Firgany and Philip these days and why are they not accompanying you?” Rick asked and immediately saw the look of sadness register across Alisha’s face. He looked at Sister Lucy as she shook her head sadly.
“What?”
“My father is dead. Passed over but a few days ago,” Alisha said and moved herself to get comfortable.
The look of shock on Rick’s face was instant. Sister Lucy grasped his hand across the table as he looked at her frantically for confirmation. Paul noticed the utter shock in his face too.
“My dear girl…I am so sorry…I am utterly lost for words,” Rick blurted out.
Alisha looked at him and saw how he was clearly struggling to hold in his emotions. This surprised her.
“Do not be too saddened. I truly feel his presence and believe he watches me still. You look deeply pained as if you knew him well?” she remarked and moved to sit opposite him and next to Sister Lucy. Rick coughed as his throat tightened with emotion.
“Just days ago? Dear Lord,” Rick said and shook his head sadly. Paul moved and sat next to him and put his arm around his shoulders comfortingly. “I…I did know him well once. Very well…as I did likewise your father…,” he explained, visibly upset. “But I, er, I lost touch with them as my other work took over…” He coughed. “And, er…well, it just saddens me to hear of the loss of such a great man…that is all,” Rick said and looked down.
Sister Lucy placed both her hands over his bruised hand upon the table. Alisha looked at him and shook her head as she then looked at Paul and then back at Sister Lucy suspicious that there was more to Rick than either of them were letting on. Sister Lucy quickly stood up.
“I shall fix you something that will calm you and ease the pain of those cuts and bruises,” she said as she fumbled about in a side drawer.
Alisha leant forwards as Rick cupped both of his hands together upon the table, his head down, his teeth gritted as he tried to control his emotions.
“That is a lot of pain and sorrow you display for news of someone you have not seen in many years,” Alisha said softly.
Rick took a deep breath just as Alisha very gently placed her hand over his hands. Slowly he let out a deep sigh, his shoulders relaxing and the tension easing from him. He looked up at Alisha directly into her deep eyes as she searched his. Rick felt as if she were pulling the very sorrow he felt stabbing through his heart out through his arms and hands into hers. His bottom lip quivered as emotions swept over him, the hurt and pain he was feeling being replaced by a serene sense of calm and peace. He involuntarily let out a small laugh and shook his head amazed as Alisha just smiled at him. Paul saw his reaction as Sister Lucy just stared, mesmerised.
“How did you do that?” Rick asked quietly, his voice no longer dry.
“Do what?” Alisha replied.
“That…that what you just did,” Rick replied indicating with his eyes towards her hand placed upon his.
Alisha looked at Paul and then Sister Lucy, who stood still just staring at them as the caravan gently rolled along.
“I did nothing,” Alisha answered, smiling broadly at him, noting the many scrapes and bruises around his head and face still very evident.
“Oh my dear girl, you most certainly did…you most certainly did,” Rick laughed and raised her hand and kissed it. “You most certainly did,” he smiled again and looked at Paul. “And you…you have a greater responsibility, young man, I suspect you know nothing of yet,” he stated, almost laughing as he looked at Sister Lucy again and held Alisha’s hands together. Paul feigned a look of confusion. “’Tis sad news I hear this day… but also a great day to be here with you all…truly…and Paul, you have grown so much since last we met,” Rick nodded.
“I want that tunic off of you later,” Sister Lucy demanded placing her hands upon her hips momentarily before grabbing hold of the side again as the caravan rocked on the track.
“Sister Lucy,” Rick joked and raised his swollen eyebrows then gr
imaced.
“To wash the filthy rag of blood, you fool,” Sister Lucy shot back as Alisha and Paul laughed gently. “And you two, we need to talk about what happened and this awakening gift you possess, “she stated, looking at Alisha.
“I have no gift,” she replied softly and moved her hands to hold Paul’s.
“Oh my dear, you most certainly do…and there are those in this world who would snuff out that gift in an instant,” Rick stated.
“Hey, she does not need to hear such things in her state,” Sister Lucy said, clipped, then lashed him with a small towel.
“’Tis better she knows the truth and learns fast than remains in ignorance,” Rick replied, rubbing his arm where the towel had flicked him.
“You two are beginning to worry me,” Paul said and eyed them both quizzically.
“Do not listen to him…for you will be protected always,” Sister Lucy retorted, scowling at Rick disapprovingly.
“By the likes of Abi Shadana, you mean?” Alisha commented.
Rick shot a look of utter surprise at Sister Lucy. She just nodded yes.
“Abi Shadana…surely she must be long since dead?” Rick asked puzzled.
“No…She seems very much alive to me. Saved my life at Castle Blanc and she gave me this…,” Alisha explained and carefully opened her shawl and lifted up the side of her dress and removed the three bladed dagger. She leant over the table and passed it to Rick.
He took it carefully, unsheathed it and looked upon it in amazement and then at Sister Lucy. She feigned a slight smile and nod at him and raised her eyebrows. Rick just studied the dagger, shaking his head, utterly bemused and more than a little confused. He looked up as they all felt the caravan stop.
The caravan came to a halt as Tenno stopped Adrastos whilst the Hospitallers pulled up just ahead of them as they were coming out of the wooded track and into an open area of land that offered commanding views out across the Mediterranean Sea below them, with spectacular hills to their right and behind. The view was certainly worth stopping to admire. As Tenno locked the brake, a warm scented breeze blew against them gently. Taqi closed his eyes tight and breathed in the fresh smelling air, the feel of warmth from the sun upon his face. Tenno looked at him and shook his head.
Paul and Alisha stepped down from the rear of the caravan as the Hospitallers tied up their horses. Several pilgrims walking by waved and smiled in acknowledgement at the group. Paul immediately saw a pile of raised stones placed to form an artificial arch and recess. Inside was placed a small statuette. Alisha looked at the scenery stretched out beneath them, the blue of the sea shimmering brightly as the coast stretched in a curve out to the left and right as far as the eye could see. The Hospitaller Marshal approached Tenno and Paul as Taqi remained seated upon the driver’s seat of the caravan.
“We shall rest up here for an hour before we proceed down to Frejus. We can arrange for you to stay the night next to the old Roman amphitheatre with us. The port is very busy at the moment and most dwellings and inns are filled with pilgrims. Luckily most Templars sail from Marseilles so we should not have a problem with them here,” the Marshal explained as he looked at the scenery before them.
“But Gerard would not have got here yet?” Paul asked concerned.
“No…But he could have had a messenger sent ahead to notify them of our coming arrival. I am not sure exactly what is afoot but your father did explain that they have already revoked your Mr Tenno’s papers. We may have some trouble resolving that but that we can deal with should the matter arise.”
Tenno stepped forwards.
“It will not prove an issue. Gold always speaks, and that I have. I had assumed there had simply been an error in the papers…but as your father has pointed out, it would appear that someone does not wish me to travel home,” Tenno said, admiring the view, and looked down towards the port of Frejus some miles ahead but visible nestled into the natural harbour, the many red tiled roofs clearly seen.
Alisha stood closer to Paul and held his hand as Adrastos neighed loudly. Paul looked at him and he seemed to acknowledge him.
“You have a natural affinity with horses, young Paul,” the Marshal remarked and smiled.
“Before Adrastos, I could not stand being near to them,” Paul replied and put his arm around Alisha. She rested her head gently against him and they stood in silence admiring the stunning view for several minutes. “My father tells me Frejus is important. He never explained why or how though,” Paul sighed as Rick painfully walked up behind him being supported by Sister Lucy.
“In time you will discover why, I am sure.” Rick coughed painfully holding his ribs and looked out across the stunning bay view. Paul briefly looked at him and then at Alisha.
Port of La Rochelle, France, Melissae Inn, spring 1191
“So what is so special about Frejus? I hear it has become a bit of a hole?” the farrier asked as he lifted several jugs, looking for one that still had beer in.
“Recall the paths of the dragon and lines of energy? Well as Tenno could have explained and shown you all, the peoples in his country and that of China believe that even our bodies, that are made up of mainly water, have lines of energy too. Those lines can be manipulated to increase health and cure illnesses. The world we live upon has exactly the same thing. Frejus just happens to be one place where the ancients, very long ago, had placed a sacred well that accessed both the physical water of those lines but also the energy line that ran through it. It is why the cathedral was built there where it stands,” the old man explained.
“I have drunk from the baptistery you speak of. Many years ago just prior to leaving on my first tour,” the Hospitaller commented.
“What? You drank from a baptistery?” Miriam asked, puzzled.
“Yes…we all did in my troop. We even filled our leather water bags with its clear fresh water to take with us. We were told it was holy water. Of course none of us took that aspect seriously…but I thought it would not hurt and that I was going to need all the help I could get to keep me alive,” he smiled in response.
“This is true. ’Twas the same when Philip first set sail for his Crusade,” the old man remarked and shook his head. “Rick also knew the very real significance of Frejus.”
“Pray tell me more of Frejus for this is all new to hear,” Peter the stonemason asked.
“Briefly…there is indeed a sacred baptistery. Though there are those who wish to cover and seal it from all.”
“Why?” Simon instantly asked.
“Why indeed? Perhaps the easiest way to explain it is to say that the energy lines are reinvigorated and kept active by running water. And like the blood that runs through our very veins, if we remove a slight amount, it has no adverse effect upon us. If the bleed is not controlled, we become weak. But we can recover and make new blood… this much we do know. But if we constantly take of that blood, our bodies cannot keep up replacing it and we die. Our Mother Earth is just the same. If we keep taking of it, then just like the allegorical symbolism within all the Holy Grail romances presently being told about King Arthur and his connection to the land, when he grows weak, so does the land and vice versa.”
“I am not aware of these Grail romances. Can you tell us?” the Genoese sailor asked.
“I will indeed cover it as it becomes an important part of this story,” the old man replied and looked at the sword.
“Ah let me guess…next you will be telling us that the sword there is the mythical Excalibur,” Simon said sarcastically.
The old man looked up slowly and stared at him as the Templar shook his head disapprovingly towards him.
“Simon, do you not know that all myths and legends have their origins based upon fact and real events?” the old man asked patiently. “As for this sword…well I shall simply tell you that it is far more valuable than any mythical sword you may have heard of. Here,” the old man continued and lifted the sword up, looked at the blade and turned it into the light. “Catch,” he said loudly
and threw it vertically across the table at Simon. Both the Templar and Hospitaller moved sideways instinctively as Miriam closed her eyes. Gabirol looked on surprised as the sword part spun vertically pointing upwards towards Simon.
Simon raised his arm up protectively and just managed to catch the handle. He clasped his hand around it tightly and smiled broadly, proud of himself for catching it. He pushed himself backwards in his chair as he studied the blade. Suddenly his face started to grimace in pain. He looked at the old man, alarmed. He tried to let go of the handle as pain began to race through his fingers. He placed his left hand on the handle and it too started to hurt. Sweat started beading from his forehead in rivulets and he started to shake as he struggled to keep the sword pointing upright. The Templar stood up and pulled Miriam up from her seat and pushed her behind him, concerned, as the Hospitaller just sat and watched perplexed.
“Please…please do something…stop it,” Simon pleaded, his face twisting in more pain. “It won’t let me go!”
“Stephan!” Sarah said getting worried.
Stephan stood up and moved to stand beside Simon as he shook in his chair as all looked on concerned.
“Simon…listen to me. Just relax…stop fighting it and just breathe slowly,” he explained and placed his hand upon his shoulder reassuringly and knelt beside him. Hesitantly Simon nodded and tried to control his breathing as the wealthy tailor and Gabirol shot their looks between him and the old man. The sword stopped shaking and began to steady. Simon’s arms stopped shaking and he let out a slight nervous laugh. After a few moments Simon was calm and still as he held the sword with both hands. His eyes were wide and he smiled nervously and looked at everyone around the room. “See…just stay calm and relaxed. It took a while to lock into your energy that is all. Did the same to me the first time,” Stephan smiled.
“What…since when have you done this?” Sarah demanded, surprised.
“Oh at least two years past,” Stephan answered and looked at the old man, who nodded in agreement.