by P. W. Child
Other than the giant snake and its appetites leaning towards the Slavic variety, she had to run from a band of mercenaries hired to dispose of two chiefs she dealt with before, friends to her. But they managed to escape the onslaught with minor injuries. Deep in the marshes she had another unsavory experience with leeches that she still had nightmares from. It was certainly good to be back on her home soil safely in the cold northern Bohemian kingdom, the glorious Czech Republic and its ancient cities, rich history and damn good beer.
Her hair was pinned back to keep it out of her face while she worked, the rest taken back in a short ash blond ponytail. She had arrived the day before at Chateau Zbiroh, her ancestral home where she was still welcome after having been away since she last saw it in 1982 with her parents. Being a descendant of the Colloredo-Mannsfeld family who owned the castle at the time of the Second World War, she had special privileges to the place. And now that the ongoing excavations had delivered some peculiar artifacts and documents pertaining directly to her bloodline, Petra was summoned not only as a daughter of Zbiroh, but as an anthropologist. Some interesting pieces have been found, but indeed, the information on the old documents found at the bottom of the well of Chateau Zbiroh was far more intriguing.
On the desk in front of her she had about 15 pages spread out, almost destroyed by the moist soil it had been buried under for so long. The ink on the pages was almost corroded away, some pages torn from the frailness of wetting and in some places the words were obscured by the failing ink. Occasionally sipping some coffee, Petra ran her hands very gently across the yellow rusted paper, just to touch history.
In some ways it felt as if she could communicate with a distant time when she grazed antique objects. Feelings, emotions, sometimes even events would seep through her consciousness when she touched something in a museum or antique store. From what she had heard there were quite a number of people with similar abilities. I was not as far-fetched as she thought it was.
“Igor!” she called one of her assistants. “Have we heard anything from Dr. Gould yet?”
“I’ll check, Professor,” he replied and got on the phone to Prof. Kulich’s main office in Prague.
“God, I hope she doesn’t bail out on me,” she sighed. One document in particular got her attention. It showed a rough drawing of a deck of cards and a key, but she was unsure of the odd match represented actual objects or if it was some kind of emblem or coat of arms. In German the words next to it said simply, Fortune to the Wielder, by the Hand of the Dealer
The words were scribbled as if written in a hurry or a fit, or perhaps even demonic possession. The latter thought made her shudder. Why would she think such a thing? Why would it even cross her mind? But she could not help it. The feeling she got when looking at the lettering was unmistakably ancient and dark. Petra’s light grey eyes scanned the strokes of the pen master and she slowly shook her head while she could feel her heart rate rising.
“Your tea is cold, madam,” the housekeeper said behind her and she almost jumped out of her skin. Holding her chest, she turned in her chair to stare at the plump woman who took a step back.
“I am so sorry, Professor. I didn’t mean to startle you!” she gasped, but Petra Kulich started laughing.
“My goodness, I was just looking at this odd sentence in deep thought and here you come out of the blue…” she stopped talking and just chuckled with the now reluctantly smiling housekeeper who was relieved that this aristocratic woman was not like the others she had served.
“Professor Kulich, Dr. Gould says she should be arriving soon,” her assistant reported from the doorway.
“Oh good! Good, I have something urgent I want her to have a look at after she gets settled in,” Petra replied, still smiling with her hand on the housekeeper’s arm. “Could you please heat this up for me?” she asked the woman.
“I’ll just make you a fresh cup, madam,” the housekeeper offered. “After all, after the scare I gave you the least I can do is make you a proper cup of tea…maybe with more sugar?”
The two women laughed again.
“Umm, Professor? Dr. Gould wanted to know if it was alright with you if she brought her own assistant with her,” the man in the doorway asked.
Without a thought Petra answered, “Of course! By all means, we’ll need all the help we can get.”
Not an hour later, a car came towards the chateau in the distance. Professor Kulich and her assistant stood watching it appear periodically between the encroaching green trees that hid the tar road in patches. The landscape was breathtaking from the balcony where they stood in awe, looking on the panoramic splendor of the surrounding Brdy Forest. The white car bobbed over the slants and dips of the road leading up to the stunning remnant of old architecture which lay snugly in the emerald embrace of the forest like a well set gem on a regal ring. The sky was majestic and clear overhead, even just temporarily for the change that would usually cool it with clouds.
Through the arch of the external wall the car entered until it came to a standstill in front of the main entrance. Professor Kulich welcomed Nina and Sam at the door.
“Dr. Gould,” she smiled, “I have been waiting eagerly for your arrival.”
“Hello, Professor Kulich…”
“Petra.”
“Petra,” Nina chuckled and nodded. “This is my assistant, Sam Cleave.”
Petra could not take her eyes off the attractive man before her, although he looked quite banged up. His cheek was scraped, his top lip split slightly on the left side and his arm in a sling. But his perfect features only improved the allure of his wild long hair and his dark eyes. The way in which he looked at her bewitched her as she shook his hand. Sam smiled, his dimples falling into his stubble as he did.
Petra found herself momentarily disarmed for words, apart from the formality of introductions. Now she stared shamelessly at Sam and he tried his best to ignore it. Nina was too excited about the project commencing to notice the obvious attraction to her friend.
“Let me get you guys sorted out,” Petra said in her low husky accent. “Igor! Please see to it that Sam and Nina get to their rooms and then arrange for lunch. Thank you, dear.” The young man gave Nina a long look which made her flush ever so slightly at his subliminal advance.
“Please, follow me,” he said politely in perfect English, and Sam nudged Nina in the ribs at the young man’s interest in her. He mocked her with an air kiss and a wink…and suffered the consequence. A hefty elbow in the stomach put him in his place and Nina walked on ahead to join Igor while she could not help but smile at Sam’s boyish teasing.
Nina and Sam were equally astonished by the immaculate interior of the castle. To know that these walls were from the 12th century, what they have seen and endured within them, was amazing in itself.
“Oh come on, you hail from Scotland. How can you be so taken by a 900 year old building?” Igor jested.
“Hey, beauty is beauty, no matter the amount of it you see,” Nina said as she stared at the arched ceilings of the hallways and the champagne drapes that fell in perfect symmetry from the tall windows to the pristine floors.
“You can say that again,” Igor mumbled, making it deliberately obvious that the remark was directed at Nina. Sam raised an eyebrow and scoffed so that Igor would hear it, but the young man ignored the jealous stranger and paid attention to the stunning historian with the cool tattoo he could see partly revealed from under her pulled up sleeve.
“What is that?” he asked. “I mean, I know it’s a tattoo, but what is it of?”
Nina smiled, “Oh, it is a rune. It represents the Norse god of Justice, War, you know, victory in battle and all that. I got it last year.”
“It is very simple. That suggests to me that it is personal, not ornate. Am I right?” he asked with a bit too much zeal, provoking a grin from silent Sam in their trail.
“Yes,” Nina replied, her voice soft and careful. She recalled how and why she got it and a nostalgic sadness grippe
d her. “I lost a dear friend and she had one like this, so you can consider this…” she paused, her eyes fixed to the Tiwaz rune that represented the Norse god, Týr, “…an ode.”
Sam cleared his throat to snap her out of it and she quickly looked back at him. He just shook his head for her to know he did not want her to venture into sorrow again. Nina gave him a quick smile and asked Igor to tell her more about the project.
Their rooms exceeded every expectation. Even in the lavish company of people like Dave Purdue, who had dragged Nina and Sam into his posh lifestyle many a time, they had not seen this measure of excellence before. Antiquity blended perfectly with stately grace and modern amenities, along with exquisite art and armory here and there to remind visitors that they were basking in genuine Bohemian culture from an era of kings and queens.
After lunch in one of the castle’s dining halls where they were joined by tourists and travelers from all over the world staying at the chateau, the group consisting of Petra, Nina, Sam and Igor made their way to the archival room where the documents were locked in.
“I want you to have a look at something I find positively enthralling,” Petra told Nina in her Czech accent.
“Sounds riveting. Lead the way,” Nina replied with a wide-eyed enthusiasm Petra had not seen in any professional in years.
The two women chatted heartily about the structure and its known history while the two men followed. It was no secret that Sam and Igor’s new relationship was a bit tense, but both knew that they were going to work together indefinitely so it would be best not openly joust over Nina’s affections. Sam did not like it. He did not know what the boy’s deal was. Nina was clearly far too mature and experienced for a ponce like Igor. How did he ever see himself with a woman like her? It was absurd. He was certain Nina was just entertaining the young idiot’s intentions for her own amusement, but then again, she did shock him by dating the un-fuckable Dave Purdue after declaring her constant vexation with his arrogance every chance she got. Perhaps she was fickle with partners, he did not know, but he hoped Purdue was the only slip she had and that it only happened because of his obscene amounts of money.
“So, if I may ask, what happened to you? Your face and your arm,” Igor asked Sam suddenly as they ascended the ancient spiral staircase up the narrow tower-like section of the second floor. Sam wanted to be defensive. Then he considered making up an Indiana Jones tale to scare the pup off, but he knew Nina would not tolerate him embellishing his exploits. She would no doubt blatantly discount it in front of everyone with her innate sense of honor and truth.
“I was jumped by four guys in the street,” Sam replied nonchalantly, as if he was used to fighting, using the street reference to sound more gritty. Then it occurred to him that he was trying to macho off on someone whose opinion he apparently did not care for. Igor nodded at the unfortunate experience. They walked on for a few steps before he asked again, “What did you do to piss them off?” Sam stared at Igor with an expression of surprise and bewilderment.
“Here we are!” Petra chimed as they reached the old wooden doors. Two large iron rings hung from the rough thick wood and it reminded Nina of an old subterranean wine cellar in Tuscany she once visited. When Petra opened the doors they creaked, as expected, under the strain of age old hinges still expertly wrought by citizens of Bohemia.
“Wow! It looks like…like…” Nina searched for a word that could encompass the crude stone walls. Small, high positioned windows let some light into the room, but mostly the place was illuminated by a fluorescent light fixed to the ceiling.
“…a dungeon,” Sam remarked without thinking as his eyes combed the chamber from top to bottom, cringing at the claustrophobic properties of the place. The other three looked at him with blank expressions which made him feel deeply awkward for opening his mouth in the first place.
“Igor,” Petra said cheerfully, “would you pour us some of that?” She pointed her long finger at a ceramic jug on the shelf with a cork stiffed in the mouth. “The best Czech Cabernet Sauvignon in my opinion,” she smiled at Sam. Again he felt her undress him with her eyes, but after Nina’s display with Igor he did not mind a little flirtation with the rich and beautiful older woman.
“I suppose I should refrain from mentioning my preference for double malt right now, right?” he asked Petra in charming humility. She did not seem to mind his remark, but Igor’s face screamed ridicule at the dark haired Scotsman.
“Oh, well, you have a palate for harsher things,” Petra cooed, “and there is nothing wrong with the more rugged things in life.”
Nina giggled.
It was not a giggle out of humor, but rather one of jealousy. Such a giggle was normally construed as a warning by women to remind other women of the turf they are stepping on. But Petra was the epitome of confidence and paid Nina’s passive aggression little mind. Instead she raised her glass when they were all tended to and said, “To the hidden magic all around us.” Her eyes fell squarely on Sam. “Na zdraví!”
“Nasdravy,” Sam fumbled as the others correctly repeated the professor’s toast. He could not think straight while the Slavic beauty gawked at him.
After some small talk she pulled the documents out for Nina to have a look at.
“I especially favor this one, miláčku…” Petra said in an absent minded mumble as she rapidly paged through the collection as gently as she could not to damage the papers. She spread them out on the table once more with widely stretched fingers. Finally she thrust her index finger down on the one page where the deck and key were scribbled.
“That one!” she said with a serious voice of conviction, as if she had just planted her flag on new land. “Look at this. Can you tell me anything about it?” Igor sat on a wooden crate by one of the windows, sipping his wine while he waited for orders. Sam was right next to Nina, leaning over the table to see what was on the page.
“Look, Sam,” Nina said, and pointed to a small sigil in the corner of the page that Petra had not even noticed before. His heart skipped a beat and his stomach twisted in unison with Nina’s dark look. “The Order of the Black Sun.”
“What?” Petra asked. “What, what is that? The Black Sun, tell me.”
“The Order of the Black Sun is a secret organization started by the elite members of the Vril and Thule Societies after the Second World War, Petra,” Nina explained with her fingers entwined, clasped in front of her stomach. “These are the people I told you I have had run-ins with before with their relentless pursuits of ancient religious and occult relics.”
“Didn’t they disband in the 1950’s, though?” Igor chipped in from his vigil of boredom, showing the color of wine in his cheeks.
“That is the story, but it is a myth. Sam and I have come face to face with them on at least two occasions before and they are very much an active entity. Their clandestine existence makes it hard to prove that they are active, and you never know who their members are until it is too late,” Nina elucidated to Petra and her assistant. “This is their symbol. Memorize it.”
Chapter 16 – The Black Tarot
Czechoslovakia – 1941
I am writing this in the hopes that the truth will be revealed should the evil of Adolf Hitler ever overwhelm the world and devastate the nations of the free. My name is not important. I am a soldier stationed at Zbiroh Castle until the Führer withdraws here after establishing a local military governance. Herr Hitler is currently at Hradčany Castle in Mother Prague, from where he stole our once majestic kingdom and culture. But I do not know how much of this information is true. All I know is that I am here for nefarious reasons, to aid these tyrannical beasts in the plundering of Bohemia’s cultural treasures and precious antiquities.
I am not speaking out of turn here for fear of being discovered. Nobody knows who I really am, and that my ancestors were Bohemian aristocrats. I just go about my work as I am ordered, but I am entering a place of dire peril by writing this down. I am one of eight children born to the last conso
rt of Bohemia, Charles I and IV – last Emperor of Austria and King of Hungary.
I was born in 1919 and my father died in Madeira in 1922. That is all you need to know of my identity. What I have to record here is far more important than my royal heritage, apart from the fact that the latter is why I have managed to gain access to the hidden chambers of Prague Castle, where I have visited as a child. Now, as a soldier in the army of the Führer by some twist of fate, I have to impress upon you, the reader, the importance of what I am about to tell you.
My specialty is explosives. I am a military explosives expert working for the SS and I was deployed to assist one of Hitler’s organizations with the removal and transport of certain artifacts seized from Prague’s Palace. Not being able to voice my grievance at this heinous violation of my own bloodline, I was forced to participate in the seizure – the theft – of Prague’s treasures. Knowing that Hitler’s dogs might locate the secret rooms during their occupation, I secretly collected a trunk of relics to include in the raid to be taken to Chateau Zbiroh and hidden there with the rest of the loot. It is the only way I can keep it from Hitler’s power-drunk claws. The trunk contains several religious relics and objects of obscure origin. I fear that the Thule Society, whom I have been summoned to assist, are involved in more than politics and war.
I do not know much about the occult, but I know what I feel. And I do not doubt the items in this chest appear to have some otherworldly power, if one believed in such things or not. Among these are various objects which could influence the turn of world events and the agents employing them.
Now, reader, I implore you to locate the chest from the well outside the Chateau Zbiroh where we were ordered to bury the stolen Nazi treasures. My grenades and trip wires are very much a threat, do not be fooled, but I am sure you will find a way to dig deeper under the false bottom and discover things that should immediately be destroyed by fire.