He stuck his hand in his pocket and clutched the picture of Meredith that he still carried. The silver frame clinked on the barrette and he closed his eyes briefly. Was he becoming an old man who carried mementos of his youth in his pocket for comfort? It was simply not fair. He left the attic in a great hurry and clattered down the stairs, almost bowling Simon over as he reached the second floor landing.
“Simon!” Mark Andrew stopped short and frowned at the Healer. “What are you doing up here?”
“I don’t know…” Simon frowned at him in return.
He never came upstairs. His room was downstairs. His room had always been downstairs. He now shared it with Lydia, but it was still the same room. He hadn’t been up here in ages. He glanced at the closed door of the bedroom in which Paddy Puffingtowne had assisted Rachel in the delivery of one of his sons. It seemed eons had passed since then. “I was looking for something… no! I heard something. I thought I heard someone call me. I suppose I’m just tired.”
“Come down to the kitchen we’ll have Planx… we’ll have some tea.” Mark caught himself and his frown deepened. “I’m sorry. I’m tired myself. I just cannot believe Planxty and Stephano… I don’t know what to do, Brother.” Tears filled his eyes, and he blinked them back rapidly.
“Perhaps we should not have come here.” Simon’s eyes were watery as well. “This place has too many ghosts.”
“Do you mean that literally or figuratively?” Mark Andrew glanced back up the stairs nervously.
“I’m not sure.” Simon shook his head slowly, and then they both jumped at the sound of a slamming door behind them.
Lucio walked toward them with his hands stuffed in his pockets.
“Did you hear something?” He asked when he drew near. His eyes looked haunted and fit the strange mood of his Brothers very well.
“Like what?” They asked in unison and then looked at each other.
“I thought I heard someone calling my name. It sounded like Vanni when he was a boy.” He frowned. “I was working on the computer and… oh, never mind! It was just my imagination…” His voice trailed off.
“It was a child? Are you sure?” Mark Andrew narrowed his eyes.
“Si`. A child.” Lucio glanced about the landing. “You heard it? I thought it was Vanni, but he’s not a child anymore. It sounded more like Galen, but he’s no child either.” His voice trailed off again and he shivered visibly. “This house holds too much. We should tear it down and build a new one.”
Simon shuddered visibly. Mark stood looking back up the stairs as if expecting something to swoop down on them from the third floor. Luke Andrew was up there somewhere, probably sleeping in his old bedroom. One of the bedrooms Meredith had built for Nicole and Luke. He had seen him earlier, but now the house was eerily quiet. All three of them jumped and Lucio cursed softly as one of the dogs set up a howl in the library.
“How about some tea and crumpets?” Mark said suddenly, reminded of Simon’s earlier suggestion and all three Knights hurried down the stairs, nodding their agreement.
They found Konrad von Hetz standing in the rear hall, looking down into the cellar. He jerked his head around when they entered the kitchen and frowned at them deeply.
“Did you hear that?” He asked them, and they shook their heads in unison.
“What? The dog?” Lucio asked him as he set about putting the kettle on the fire.
“I distinctly heard someone call me!” Konrad poked his head in the laundry room and then came back to take a seat at the table. “It sounded like a boy’s voice or perhaps a woman. I heard him say ‘father’, ‘father’.”
“Really?” Simon’s eyebrows went up as he sat down at the head of the table and picked up a magazine someone had left there. “Who did it sound like?”
“Well… I don’t know exactly.” Konrad chewed his bottom lip and watched Mark Andrew as he fished about in the cabinet for cups and a box of Earl Grey tea. Konrad had been having strange dreams lately. He had been dreaming of a red-haired woman. It seemed that he knew her from somewhere, but he couldn’t place her. But the voice had not been hers. “It was nothing… my imagination.” Konrad laughed nervously. “For a moment, it sounded like William.”
“Your son?” Mark asked over his shoulder.
“Yes, but when he was a boy.” Konrad smiled at the memory. “He had a certain tonal quality when he was in trouble. When he would scrape his knee or something. You know how boys are.” He looked at Simon.
“I certainly do.” Simon agreed quietly. “They can put up quite a fuss… when they are young.”
“Santa Maria!” Lucio exclaimed and jumped back as the sleeve of his shirt began to smoke. He had been mesmerized by Konrad’s words and had left his hand on the handle of the kettle too long. The loose cuff was scorched and smoking.
“Evening, Brothers!” Louis Champlain caused them all to jump again as he clattered into the room from the rear hall. The Frankish Knight took off his slicker and hung it on a peg in the rear hall. His hair was plastered to his head. None of them had heard him come in the back door.
“Is that tea I smell?” He rubbed his big hands together and sat down at the table. Mark went for another cup. “Raining.” He said simply.
“Walking in the rain?” Lucio asked as he sat down next to the Knight of the Golden Key.
“Actually, I have been chasing ghosts.” Louis laughed and then frowned when they all looked at him in shock.
“What do you mean?” Konrad asked accusingly.
“I was in the laundry room a little while ago and I swear I heard someone shouting for me outside.” Louis looked from one of them to the other in confusion. “At first I thought it was Thaddeus, and then I remembered he is in London with the King, and then I realized that it couldn’t be Thad anyway. Too young. Sounded like a boy about ten or eleven or maybe a woman. I went out to have a look. Only ducks and fish out there. Pouring hounds and tabbies.” He wiped at his face. “It must have been the wind.”
“Of course.” Lucio nodded. “The wind! That’s what it was. Seems we all heard the same thing.” Lucio looked out the window over the sink apprehensively and then found some biscuits and rat cheese. He took out a cooking board and starting carving up some chunks of the dark yellow cheese to fit the crackers.
Simon busied himself with heating some leftover crumpets in the microwave.
Again they were startled by the voice of another of the troops gathered in the old house as Edgard d’Brouchart joined them from the front hall.
“Where is Simeon?” He asked them as he sat down opposite Lucio and sniffed the air. Mark automatically went for another cup.
“Simeon isn’t here, Father.” Simon frowned at him. “He’s on St. Patrick’s. You know that!”
“Don’t try to fool me.” Edgard laughed. “I heard Gabriel’s voice calling him. Not more than five minutes ago.”
“You heard Gabriel calling who?” Mark clunked a heavy mug in front of the Grand Master and frowned. He needed new household staff.
“Simeon! Who else? His father! He said ‘father!’, ‘father!’ I know Gabriel’s voice, son.” He scowled at Simon. “I was sitting in the library. I must have nodded off. I heard him in the foyer.”
“Gabriel is not here.” Simon told him and the expression on his face made his father’s frown fade.
“Are you sure?” He asked quietly. “Then I must have been dreaming.”
“Then we were all sharing the same dream.” Mark Andrew said as he sat down heavily.
The whistle on the kettle went off, and everyone jumped at the sudden shrill sound. Louis grumped and then chuckled as they looked about at each other like a group of frightened school boys. Christopher Stewart entered the kitchen and looked at them suspiciously.
“What is this? Has Brother Louis been telling his horror stories again? You all look like you’ve seen the ghost of Christmas past!” No one answered the Knight of the Holy City as he shook his head and went to retrieve the kettle fro
m the stove. “It won’t serve itself, you know!” He mumbled and brought the kettle to the table to pour the boiling water in their cups. “I’ve never seen the attraction of hot tea.” He commented as he filled the Grand Master’s cup. The air filled with the comforting smell of hot tea when the Master dropped his tea ball in his cup.
“We need a cook.” The younger man said as he put the kettle away and looked for something in the refrigerator.
Only bottled spring water was to be had for drinking, other than the tea and coffee of questionable age that had been left in the larder.
“We need some sodas.” None of them had ventured into town to buy food. “I could use a good, bloody steak with mushroom sauce.” They had been ‘making do’ as Oriel called it, on whatever she could concoct from the stores in the pantry and the cellar. “Perhaps Zeb and Philip and I could run into town and get some real food.” The American brought his water back to the table and sat down. “Ahhh, spring water. Hmmmph. I’ll bet it is.” He turned up his bottle and looked at the faces around the table again. The fact that he was the only one speaking in the eerie silence slowly dawned on him.
“What?” He frowned at them again. “What did I do? Interrupt something?”
“No, it was nothing.” Louis answered him. “We were just sitting.”
“Ahh, now you’ve taken up lying, have you?” Christopher didn’t buy his lame excuse for their strange behavior. “Father Simon? Brother Louis is in need of confession. I don’t really care what you were doing.” Christopher smiled at them. “I prefer younger company myself. Alas, Philip and I were about to engage in a good game of chess, but Zebulon had other plans.”
“Oh?” Simon raised both eyebrows. “And what is Zeb up to?”
“He and Izzy are outside in the pouring rain looking for cats.” Christopher told them disdainfully. “I tried to get Philip to stay inside, but he went with them.”
“Cats?” Mark Andrew looked up from his cup of tea. “There are no cats here. We’ve never had cats here. They don’t like the place. The hounds, you know.”
“Well, Izzy said that he heard some cats or… actually, I said it was cats. We had a couple of strays down at the barn a few years ago. He said it sounded like a child. I said he was crazy. There are no children here. He said he heard a child’s voice outside his window. In this storm?” Christopher shook his head again and turned up the bottle once more. “Cats. Without the hounds here, strays are bound to turn up. Plenty of mice down at the stable.”
“The hounds!” Mark frowned at Simon. He distinctly remembered hearing the baying of a hound earlier. He had forgotten that the dogs were still on the Isle of Ramsay.
Simon got up slowly and then hurried down the back hall. He threw open the back door on the full force of the storm and shouted for his sons. His voice was drowned out completely by the blowing rain.
“What’s the problem?” Christopher asked. He was becoming truly concerned now as he perceived the looks on his Brothers’ faces.
In answer to his question, they heard a shrill voice above the storm and Simon disappeared into the night as the Knights at the table forgot their tea and crowded into the hall, racing for the door.
“Sir Ramsay!” The voice was that of a woman. There was no mistaking it now as they all poured out the back door in the deluge. They could barely make out the form of the Healer making his way down the walk toward another shadowy figure.
“Sir Ramsay!” The voice shrieked again, and then Simon was headed back toward them with the woman in tow.
Thirty minutes later found them all gathered in the library in front of a roaring fire. Numerous towels were piled about as the dozen or so, soaking wet people sat or stood about the hearth waiting for Sophia to catch her breath and gather her wits. She sat shivering on the hearth, clutching a cup of hot tea. Her teeth chattered in spite of the blanket over her shoulders and the warm fire at her back. Izzy sat on one side of his sister-in-law while her sister, Gloriana, held her hand, trying to comfort her. They were all overwhelmed with joy to have the missing girl back, but disappointed to learn that Michael and Galen and the others had not returned with her. She had been able to answer some of their numerous questions with nods and shakes of her head until the Grand Master had demanded that they cease with the questions until she could calm down. She sipped the tea and closed her eyes. Her face was smudged with dirt and her red tee-shirt and jeans were rather filthy as if she had been living in a cave.
“Sir Ramsay?” She asked as soon as she opened her dark eyes and looked directly at Mark Andrew. “I have a message for you from Lucifer.”
“Aye?” Mark Andrew said as he stepped forward and knelt on one knee in front of her. Water beaded on his eyelashes and dripped from his long hair into her tea as he wrapped his hands around hers. She was shivering and her skin was cold as ice.
“I would rather speak to you alone. He said ‘tell only my Brother, Uriel, my words and let him decide’. I wouldn’t want to make him angry, Sir Ramsay.”
“No, of course not.” Mark agreed as he looked about and his face turned red. He did not like being called by the angelic name. It only made matters worse for him and his Brothers of the Order had enough trouble dealing with him already. Most of them avoided him entirely, if possible. “Would you like to take a bath or something first? Perhaps, at least, put on some clean clothes?”
“That would be wonderful.” Sophia smiled at him and seemed to stop shivering almost magickally. “Will you go up with me? I’m afraid they will come back for me.”
“Uhhhh… Izzy!” Mark Andrew nodded to the Knight of the Throne as his face grew even redder. “Help her. Gloriana?” He backed away from her as if she had slapped him.
Izzy and his wife took charge of Sophia, who looked clearly disappointed at his reaction, and ushered her from the room while she craned her neck to look back at Mark Andrew. He stood watching her go with a decidedly guilty look on his face, wondering exactly what had just happened that made him feel so.
“Du Morte!” The Grand Master accosted him at once. “I will have a full report as soon as she has delivered her message. Go up with her indeed!”
“Certainly, Your Grace.” Mark Andrew shot him a dark look and headed for the door.
“I won’t be left out of these dealings! Lucifer will use the proper channels or we will not deal with him!” Edgard called after him.
“I doubt Lucifer cares much about your proper channels, Sir.” Mark Andrew stopped at the door and looked back at the Grand Master. “I’m going up to my room to change clothes. I suggest that the rest of you do the same. We will most likely need to call a meeting before the night is out. Miss Sophia is obviously distressed. Let’s not make matters worse.”
Lucio caught up with him on the stairs.
“Ask her about Vanni and Galen, will you?” The Italian caught his arm. “We can’t forget about the others.”
“I’m not going to forget about them, Lucio!” Mark Andrew was perplexed by the idea. “You realize I’m not the Grand Master. You forget my own nephew is there… and Selwig? I am responsible for the healer as well.”
“What do you think he wants?” Lucio whispered as he followed him.
“He will want what we all want. To be rid of the Ancient Evil. Unfortunately, he hasn’t been around in a few thousand years. His perspective will be a bit… skewed?”
“Why do you think he sent the girl and not one of the others?”
“That much is obvious. The company of women.” Mark Andrew shrugged. “Lucifer doesn’t need anymore complications. Besides, he probably thinks that Michael and your sons would better serve his purposes, if he decides to keep them.”
“Keep them?” Lucio stopped at Mark’s door.
“There is nothing to stop him from keeping them.” Mark Andrew told him evenly. “Michael and Vanni are kindred spirits. Selwig is not exactly human in the strictest sense of the word.”
“What about Galen?”
“Galen looks like them,
no? Blonde hair, angelic features? Blue eyes?” Mark Andrew raised one eyebrow.
“That’s absurd!” Lucio protested.
“Is it?” Mark Andrew turned back to his Brother and took him by the arms. “Lucio, if I had told you fifty years ago everything all that has fallen upon us up to this point, you would have said that’s absurd!”
“Lucifer does not see things the same as we do. He has no children. He knows nothing of men except they have caused a great deal of trouble in Heaven. And when he learns they have been blaming him for all their woes and suffering for ages now without due cause, how do you think he will feel about them? When he learns that men have been worshipping the very one that caused them to be in such dire straits, how do you think he will feel? When he learns what they did to the true followers of Christ, what do you think he will do? When he learns that they crucified the true Son of God, and mocked Him, and ridiculed Him, and then set up a false religion, that claims to glorify Him, how much sympathy will he have for them?”
“He spent a great deal of time and trouble defending the poor masses of humanity from the powers of evil because he was commanded to do so, and now what does he get for gratitude? He will not be overly friendly to their causes. I don’t know what he wants from me. I am not Jesus Christ! Only the true Son of God could turn him from his wrath now. And I can assure you, wherever he has been since we last saw him, he has been studying and learning everything he can find. How can I explain it to him? What can I say or do, which will make him understand what men have done? I am no better than the rest of them.”
“But you will try.” Lucio told him quietly. “Take him to Egypt. Show him the Halls of Amenti. Let him see the Great Dark Lord.”
“He was against the establishment of the Order. He cast his vote against the idea from the start. He spoke out against the men of Atlantis. When I first saw him…” Mark Andrew stopped, closed his eyes and held up one hand in front of Lucio’s face.
He was saying too much, remembering too much, going too far back. After a moment, he continued in a calmer voice. “He said they would fall. And they did, and when it was decided to give them one last chance to redeem themselves, he scoffed and said the world would be better left to the care of Tiamat and her minions. But when the decision was made, he accepted the judgment like everyone else, and tried to do his part as he was commanded. I have no idea what happened to him. No idea how he came to be imprisoned for eons, through so many ages of humanity’s evolution, but I can say he will not be satisfied until he has vanquished his vanquishers. When Lucifer went to sleep in his crystal prison, men did not even know they were men. Now, I am going to get cleaned up, and then, I’m going to hear what Miss Sophia has to say.”
All That Is Fallen Page 4