The Dawn of Grace :: A Mystery and Suspense Christian Historical Fiction Comprising of Enduring Love and Glory (Revelation Book 1)

by Christian Hunt

  Fifteen minutes later they headed out.

  “Wait,” Amy called from behind. She combed the back of his hair with her fingers and smoothed his coat collar. “Tut-tut,” she whispered. “I still love you.”

  “In spite of myself,” David teased, and kissed her on the nose. He was amazed at times that she could even look at him. “Boys still sleeping?”

  “Lucas is up, but Emaline will be here shortly.” Emaline, their housekeeper for fifteen years, considered the boys her own; and would make sure they were adequately fed and entertained.

  “So this can be a long coffee date.” David winked at her.

  For a morning that had started out so well, the two lapsed into silence during their drive into Manhattan, listening to hit radio's “Hard Headed Woman.” The silence was comfortable, though, as David reached over and held Amy's hand. She had noticed a change in his entire demeanor since last night but she decided to enjoy it versus wonder about it. For now, she was content to spend a lovely day with her husband and take things one moment at a time.

  Throughout the day, he remained helpful and polite, treating Amy like a queen. He even insisted on buying her a new mink stole from Macy's, which made Amy begin to regret some of her recent and frank talks with Sandra, though, in her heart, she knew she was only attempting to find an honest solution. Their companionship tended to skyrocket and plummet, an exhausting emotional roller-coaster that left her anticipating the return of his brooding and temperamental nature by nightfall. Was he buttering her up for his next eight-week vacancy?

  The sun was setting as they packed all their shopping bags in the back of their car and drove home. Amy silently gave a prayer of praise for the wonderful day, fishing in her pocketbook for cash to pay Emaline.

  “I think we need to take a vacation.”

  The very last thing she expected him to say. The idea surprised her enough to leave her at a loss for words. “A-a—”

  “Yes, those things families do together now and then? Just for fun?” David grinned at her.

  “Not a job?”

  “Oh God, no, baby. We've done enough of those. This is a real vacation with you and the boys, to Prague—a place my grandfather described in his journal, one of Europe's most elegant. What do you say?”

  Amy was still finding her voice as well as her thoughts. “Well, I—”

  “I know it might not make much sense, but I think it's important, and I feel like I should do it.”

  Amy's eyes brimmed with happy tears because she knew David was finally reaching out to reconnect with family—in the present, and in the past. Her prayers of ten years were being answered right in front of her eyes. She squeezed his hand and giggled with pure, unadulterated joy. “When are we leaving?”

  To say she currently harbored no worries wouldn't be true. But she knew that the first step for David was turning away from his daily self-absorption in chasing success to extending love—and this, yes even this was a start.

  “I haven’t talked to my manager yet about booking tickets, but I was hoping we might get away in the next three weeks. Wouldn't Christmas be wonderful over there? They probably won't get snow, but it could be a truly magical experience for the boys.”

  Amy smiled at him through her tears, now free-falling. “Should I pinch myself and wake up? Do I really hear these words falling from your lips?” She pulled a tissue out of her purse.

  David smiled at her and kissed the back of her hand. “To magical experiences,” he quipped.

  For the next couple weeks, a flurry of cheerful activity surrounded the Fristensky household. Between packing, outlining their itinerary and chattering with the boys about sight-seeing opportunities they might expect, David went over many of the notes that he and Franz had made regarding the Bible. The second part of the book contained personal information about Queen Sophia of Bavaria, including her dynasty. Franz had roughly translated one section: For one who believes this book sees the gateway to help build a better world.

  Franz had also translated a poem, as well, in this section. It read:

  Unlock the world above

  Goodness is all you find

  Make way for the waves

  To the bridge of perfect love

  Twelve months through you roll

  In quest for happiness

  Key to greatness in life

  Is twelve times you unfold

  Next to these translations, Franz had scribbled: rotating the key twelve times counter-clockwise? David understood the directional instructions for winding this clock, but twelve times? He read the poem again. It sounds more like a riddle. Carefully closing the book, he tried winding the clock twelve times, but nothing happened.

  He stared at the book for a few moments before realizing that the spine may have originally been sewn on the opposite side. He wound the clock in the opposite direction, and when he completed the twelfth, the clock face opened up—much like a pocket watch—with a rusted coin inside. He pulled the coin out, reading the engraved letters and symbols on it:

  Kamenný most Praha

  “Curious,” he said.

  A two-in-one cross was engraved on the coin, as well. Folded next to the coin was a small note. David carefully unfolded the fragile parchment and spread it flat over the Bible. It read:

  “I have treasured this magical book my entire life. If you are reading this, you are about to witness a life-transforming event when you visit Kamenný most Praha, once known as the Stone Bridge, now the Charles Bridge.”

  David looked more carefully at the handwritten note. While most of the book was written in German, this note was handwritten in English, translated by—his grandfather. When the weight of this realization hit David, it took his breath away. He was holding his grandfather’s most treasured possession, hidden away safely for all these years—but why? Hidden from whom, and for whom?

  “Looks like your roots from Prague are calling you,” Amy whispered, standing behind him.

  The virtues of your partner complete the goodness in you.

  Chapter Five

  December 21, 1958

  Since the Second World War, Prague was coined as the city Hitler tried to save for himself. David could immediately see why. The delightful old-world civilization was rife with a mystique unrivaled by its neighboring countries. Much of the poignant craftsmanship and renaissance artwork throughout its boroughs remained pristine and intact even after a war that ripped apart most of Western Europe. Prague was shrouded in its own mystery as well—a glorious pearl in a sea of industrialism. To David, it already felt like home.

  As for the Bible, David was fully intent on deciphering as many of its codes as possible while in Prague. For that reason, he suggested to Amy that they invite Uncle Franz as their official translator, for David hoped to consult several of Prague's noted scholars about the book. Franz, though elusive regarding most family interaction now, accepted the invitation without hesitation. He was also excited about the possibility of visiting old friends he'd grown up with near Prague, and upon their arrival, he immediately set out to catch the train to nearby Kraków, Poland.

  David had decided to forego visiting the Charles Bridge until Franz returned, so he mapped out four other locations for his family to visit instead.

  The first stop was Old Town Square, where Prague's Astronomical Clock, the Orloj, gyroscopically displayed and ticked away time. David explained the once-common legendary belief that the clock's extraordinary design—consisting of an astronomical dial, an hourly march of twelve Apostles, its rim flanked by Vanity, Lust and Death striking time—was originally constructed by Jan Ruze, also known as Hanus Carolinum, in 1490. Coveted by Prague Councilmen for his craftsmanship, Hanus had his eyes gouged out by a mob in an effort to prevent him from recreating his work elsewhere. Before his death, Hanus was said to have climbed the clock tower and stopped the clock which stayed nonfunctional for almost a century. David, who appreciated the attention to detail, had always found it tragic that Hanus's life a
bility went into merely creating one clock while he could've filled the world with myriad other beautiful pieces. While Christophe was put off by the gory story, Lucas thought the legends about Orloj were cool. David found it most interesting that the clock face on this book seemed in some ways to be modeled after this onetime creation by Hanus. Did someone copy Hanus, or did he secretly recreate a miniature before he was blinded?

  The family also visited Strahov Monastery. David realized he enjoyed discovering historical details with Amy at his side—a component of their marriage he had, up to this point, left unexplored. She'd never looked more beautiful, he thought, as she studied the Theological Hall's ceiling in wonder. Decorated with elaborate ivory stucco, its eighteenth-century masterpiece paintings arched over gold-gilded redwood bookshelves, a massive hall rivaling the magnificence of its own cloister church.

  “Many of these books date to the 1500s, replacements for those destroyed during the Hussite movement,” David said as they walked alongside the shelves.

  “Really?” Amy replied, her eyes still fixed on the ceiling.

  “The citizens of Prague attacked and plundered both the church and the convent.”

  Amy looked at him in shock. “This beautiful place? Why?”

  The unfeigned enlightenment behind her question touched David's heart.

  “Indeed,” he answered quietly.

  At Wenceslas Square, Christophe had only one question instead of his usual fifty. “Was he sorta like Scrooge?”

  David chuckled. “Actually, no,” he replied. “Wenceslas was like an aristocratic Robin Hood, who happened to live in Bohemia around 950 A.D.”

  Their last stop of the day was Prague Castle. David knew already that the castle itself would require two days' tour alone, but Amy and the boys seemed eager for more exploring. Regarded as one of the most significant Czech monuments, the castle was famed as the largest coherent castle complex in the world, covering an area of nearly seventy-thousand meters.

  David could tell that something about the castle's St. Vitus Cathedral felt home to Amy, and she wanted to pull the boys along with her to kneel and pray under its massive, gold-ribbed Gothic arches.

  For some reason yet unknown to him, he didn't feel like exploring another massive clerical monument today, at least not inside. While Amy, Christophe and Lucas set out to pray in St. Vitus, David excused himself to meander around the square. He strolled, slowly taking in his surroundings. Prague exuded beauty in every nook and cranny, and they had already taken in so much in one short afternoon. He needed to slow down. Tourists rambled all around him, soaking in the monumental and charming allure and artistic actualization of numerous craftsmen.

  One particular piece of sculpture caught his attention, and as he maneuvered through the crowd for a closer look, he felt a light, yet purposeful tap on his shoulder.

  “Are you a tourist?”

  David turned, half-expecting a fellow American looking for the foreign exchange office. Instead, a man in a black cassock fastened with numerous dill shank buttons stood in front of him. In the tradition of Czech priests, he had a neatly trimmed beard and mustache. Over the cassock, he wore a surplice finished with white lace at the hems. Over the rest of it, he wore a short mink fur coat.

  “Yes, I am,” David answered. “Can I help you with something?”

  The man gave a small laugh and shook his head. “Not at all. I was merely curious if you would be interested in seeing the largest bell in Czechoslovakia. It is not normally accessible to every tourist, you see, but you seem like you would appreciate the splendor of such a work of art.”

  “Absolutely,” David said enthusiastically. “I would love to see it! That sounds incredible.” Holding out his hand, he added, “I’m David.”

  The clergyman smiled pleasantly and, taking David’s hand in both of his, bowed in greeting over them. “I am called John. I am a guardian here, you see, and spend most of my time in the church. You can always find me here during the day.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” David said with a smile. The formality of the introduction made him feel honored. What a great way to make a new acquaintance, and a clerical one, at that.

  John guided David through the town square's crowded streets and through a solid gate on the south side of St. Vitus that had to be unlocked. Once both men stepped across the threshold, the gate closed behind them, and John locked it once more. Until then, he hadn’t spoken another word. Now that they were outside of the square's commotion, John quietly spoke as they walked along.

  “What do you know of the great bells in the tower?”

  “I've heard that when Emperor Charles the IV died, every bell in the tower started ringing unattended.”

  John smiled and nodded. “Indeed a legend among our people. Did you know the man who prophesied to Wenceslas IV? He told the king he would die in front of the bell tower.”

  David regarded John with wide eyes. “I haven't. That’s a difficult prophecy to deliver to a king.”

  “Yes, and that prophecy frightened the king so greatly, he ordered that the tower be destroyed. His foot soldiers had just begun torching the first floor when news reached Prague of the Hussite invasion.”

  “Well, that seems portentous.”

  “Indeed. In fact, the king became so upset by the news; he had a heart attack and died.”

  David stroked the tip of his nose, stifling a laugh. “Well, that's too bad. Just tragic.”

  John shrugged. “Self-fulfilling prophecy, no doubt. Had the tower been left well enough alone, the king might've enjoyed a longer reign.”

  “It sounds like these bells have a lot of power,” David remarked, more as an aside. Only a few hundred feet from the square, the atmosphere lingering around the two had become unspeakably quiet, and David began considering the fact that he was walking all alone with a virtual stranger he had just met. Perhaps this tour wouldn't take that long; he knew Amy would come looking for him.

  When they entered the side of the bell tower, David could see there was just room for two men abreast. The spiral staircase ascended a staggering two hundred ninety-seven steps—were they really going to climb all the way to the top? John started up the stairs like he did this every day, but David hesitated. He was still young enough, and kept himself in reasonably good shape for his career, but—why were they really doing this?

  As if answering David's unspoken inquiries, John looked over his shoulder and said, “Perhaps one day we will no longer have to use these steps, but for now, they will do. If you follow me, your journey will seem short.”

  The whole experience, David realized, was turning out to be a test. Yes, that's what it was, he thought. A test of trust. He cleared his throat. “Why not?” he replied.

  John continued, “So, according to the placard at the bottom, this clock was completed in 1597. But I suppose you know already that its history precedes that.”

  “Yes.”

  “Peter Parler assumed the role of master builder of St. Vitus following the death of the mason Matthias of Arras, in 1352, over two hundred years before the bell tower's completion.”

  “I see.” David was aware that at least two masonry architects were involved in completing the cathedral, but did not know about the successive completion of the tower. He continued following John up the stone steps.

  “His sons continued designing the tower after Parler's death until 1406. The tower collapsed in Prague Castle's great fire in 1551.”

  “I heard the clock was added after reconstruction.”

  “That is true. By then, legends abounded about the clock's connection to Prague. The tower was quickly repaired, and a clock was added in 1552. Are you familiar with the Zikmund bell?”

  “The largest? Yes.” During their climb, David had noticed at first that his legs seemed unusually light, considering the workload. He could not help but also notice that the edge of John's robe seemed to hover just above the steps as they ascended.

  “That bell was constructed in 1549,
during the reign of Ferdinand I. Legend has it that the king's daughter commissioned a pulley—its rope wound from her own hair—to hoist the heavy bell to the top of the tower. Once the bell was in place, she had the hoist destroyed.”

  David could only imagine this Rapunzel doppelgänger and her long, braided hair carrying this magnificent bell to its commissioned workplace high above the city. Suddenly he realized they were high above the city, and he was slowly walking around the Zikmund bell itself. David took a quick step back, turning around himself, his mouth agape. “We're—already here.”

  John smiled. “Yes, we are.”

  “How did that happen?”

  John clasped his hands together, his steeple index fingers touching his chin. “What you mentioned earlier about this bell's power is not untrue. Zikmund has the jesuitic power of sorts, for those who can harness it.” He leveled his gaze on David.

  Did he just claim that the bell had transported him here? David couldn't be completely sure what John was trying to tell him, but something had made their twenty-one story ascent happen in virtually seconds.

  “Zikmund has yet another legend.” John raised his eyes toward the bell's lower belt. “If the base of the bell breaks or the clapper becomes disengaged, ill fortune comes to Prague and its country.”

  “This thing? Break?” David asked.

  “This has happened a few times, in fact. As a guardian, I remember those years well.” John shook his head and folded his hands in front of him.

  David, still uncertain how he should weigh the entire experience or this strange priest, thanked John for the tour, knowing he needed to check on his family. The two men descended the steps, this time, John following, and once again, David was amazed by how brief their passage through the tower stairwell seemed.

  When he turned to thank John for the tour and his firsthand chance to witness the power of the bell, the man was nowhere to be found. David returned to the outer courtyard, scouting for where John might have gone. Just outside the gate, he caught sight of Amy and the boys. He recounted his experience about the priest who toured him through the bell tower, deciding not to disclose the full details, however, about how time had altered its course during their encounter. The boys wanted to go up immediately, but David suggested visiting the bell tower on another day. Everyone agreed they were hungry, and David wasn't so sure the miraculous transport up the tower would happen without John.