The Perfect Sun

by Brendan Carroll

  “What time is it, my son?” Edgard asked. “Who cares? We are only concerned with the here and now. A perfect day for swimming. A perfect drink,” he held up the lemonade and admired its color. “Perfect company and perfect conversation.”

  “Perfect,” Simon agreed and laid the watch on the table. His mind wandered to his uniform again. He had thought it a practical joke of some sort when Izzy had told him that his watch was at the bottom of the pool.

  “Hey, Poppi!” Zeb called to him from the far side of the pool. “Look what I found!”

  His son held up his dagger with the silver serpents entwined on the hilt.

  “For the love of God,” Simon muttered and stood up, squinting at the thing in the bright sunlight.

  “And here, Poppi!” Reuben had surfaced in the middle of the pool, holding up his matching sword with the sapphire-eyed serpents on its hilt. The sun sparkled on the silver.

  Dan was walking up the steps in the shallow end, carrying the scabbard and his dripping black mantel.

  “What did you do, my son?” Edgard asked him. “Did you throw your entire uniform in the pool?”

  “No! Of course not,” Simon muttered and sat down again as his sons brought the various pieces of his military outfit to him. Boots, trousers, belt, clasp, helmet, gloves. They piled them at his feet, and then went back to their games in the water as if nothing unusual had occurred. He poked at the wet cloth with one foot and then poured the water out of his boots. “I have no idea what happened.”

  “Well, never mind,” Edgard told him and stood up, dropping his towel on the tiles. “I’m going for another dip. Care to join me?”

  Simon was horrified to see that his father wore absolutely nothing. He was then astonished to see that he, too, sat stark naked in the broad open daylight of the Villa courtyard.

  “Don’t be so prudish, Son.” Edgard laughed. “There are only men here.”

  “But…” Simon began and then shoved his towel in his lap. His father walked to the side of the pool and leaped into the water, causing a tremendous splash. Simon’s eleven sons shouted and laughed with their grandfather as he joined their game of water tennis. Again, he was appalled to see all of his sons completely naked as the day they were born. Never before had such a thing happened. Never had such a nightmare afflicted him.

  “Mind if I join you?” A female voice startled him out of what was left of his wits. He jerked his head around and saw Meredith Sinclair, sitting across from him. She was dressed in the soft white gown with the red embroidery that she always wore when she was conducting her magickal rites. She smiled at him and picked up his father’s glass of lemonade. “Mmmmm. Just like we used to drink in Texas. It’s so hot, Simon. How can you bear it?”

  “Hot?” He muttered the word and felt his face flame.

  “Yes, hot, the weather. It’s hot.” She said. “You act like you’ve seen a ghost, Simon. Weren’t you expecting me?”

  “Not exactly, no, but you’re certainly welcome to come and go, I suppose.”

  “What happened to your uniform?” She asked and picked up his belt between her bare toes. “Did you fall in the pool?”

  “No!” He said. “I mean, I don’t know what happened to them. How did you get here?”

  “I walked.” She frowned. “Are you ready for the ritual? You haven’t eaten anything unclean, have you?”

  “What? No! Of course not,” he objected. “What ritual?”

  “The cleansing bath,” she explained. “I see you are ready for it.”

  “I’m not ready for anything.” He looked about in panic.

  “Come, come, Simon. You and I know each other very well. There is no need for embarrassment. Besides, Lucio is not here. He’s in Naples.”

  “What? No, he’s not. He’s in… He went to…” Simon frowned. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen the Golden Eagle. “Where is Mark Andrew?”

  “Who knows?” She sat back and raised both hands in frustration. “You know how he is. Never around when you need him, always popping up at the wrong time. We don’t need him, do we? We can complete the ritual. Just the two of us.”

  “But what about the others…” Simon waved one hand at the pool, and then realized everyone had deserted him. He was alone on the patio. Naked, wet and confused. It had to be a dream.

  “They will have to wait their turn, Simon,” she stood up and held out her hand. “Now come on before the bath gets cold.”

  Simon took her hand, but held the towel in front of himself desperately.

  “Don’t be silly,” she said and linked her arm in his. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

  “Yes, but you haven’t seen it lately,” he said inanely as she pulled him along toward the rooms she shared with Mark Andrew.

  “Wait for me!” A voice called to them from the sunroom porch.

  They turned and waited as Lavon came running across the grass toward them.

  “Lavon.” Simon’s eyes widened. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m standing in for my grandfather,” the French Knight told him. “Sorry I’m late, Grandmother.”

  “No problem,” she linked her other arm in his. “My, my. It’s just too hot.”

  Simon leaned forward slightly and then stood up straighter as Lavon began to unbutton his shirt as they walked along. By the time they had reached the long, shady porch of the living quarters, the French Knight had shed most of his clothes, leaving them strewn on the grass.

  Meredith held the door open for them and Lavon went in first. When Simon stepped inside, still clutching the towel that seemed to be shrinking as it dried, dozens of voices shouted as one, causing his heart to temporarily stop beating.

  “Surprise!!”

  “What is this?” He asked as he perceived the crowded room full of people.

  “A surprise party, of course. What do you think it is?”

  “A nightmare?” He asked hopefully and was then hugged tightly by Louis Champlain. To his chagrin, only he and Lavon were not fully clothed. All the Knights and apprentices crammed into the small living quarters were fully dressed in their uniforms, including his sons and his father. But only he seemed to care.

  “Father!” He jerked his head in the direction of this new, very familiar female voice. Oriel shoved her way through the Knights and her boisterous younger brothers. “Poppi!” She called and started toward him and he froze. Her face was a mask of horror. She was not part of the dream.

  “Oriel!” He caught her arm when she was close and then turned her away from him. “Do not look at me.”

  “Poppi, what is happening? How did we get here? Where are your clothes?” She asked the questions, but did not look back.

  “I don’t know the answers to any of those questions, Orri,” he said as he shoved his way through the party toward the bedroom. Everyone clapped him on the back as he passed, as if it was his birthday or some sort of holiday, and he was the honored guest. He pulled Oriel behind him, admonishing her again and again not to look at him. It was horrible. Just before he reached the bedroom door, Luke Matthew stepped in front of him and thrust a bottle of Ramsay Stout at his chest. He dropped his towel and took the beer instinctively. Luke paid no attention to his discomfiture, but draped one heavy arm over his shoulder.

  “Ho, little Brother! Whair ye off to?” He asked and turned up his own bottle of beer.

  “I need to find some clothes… my daughter is here,” he pleaded with the Knight.

  “Oh, thot’s nae worry. Tonoight is th’ noight fur love.” Luke winked him.

  “Oh really? And whot moight thot occasion be, Brother?” Simon forced himself to remain calm and reminded Oriel not to look at him.

  “Midsummer’s Eve, o’ carse,” Luke told him and then removed his arm from the healer’s shoulder. “Ho, Louis! Louis Champlain!” Luke called and stumbled away from them. “Did I evar tell ye aboot me father? A great mon, ’e was! And in th’ sarvice of King William, the Lion…”

&nb
sp; Simon sighed and pushed open the bedroom door. Thankfully the room was empty. He dragged his daughter inside and made her face the door while he rooted frantically through Mark Andrew’s chest. He came up with nothing other than a black tee shirt, black socks, black boxer briefs… too big, but better than nothing. He pulled these things on quickly and then raided the closet. Again, he found black shirts of various designs, and black cargo pants. He pulled the adjustable waist tabs on the pants to make them as small as possible and pulled them on. A black belt hanging on the door helped keep the trousers from falling down. He took out a black safari jacket and put it on over the tee shirt. He had no shoes. He pulled a pair of boots from the back of the closet and laced them up quickly. Too big, but better than sock feet. The entire time he was dressing, Oriel was sobbing, and asking more questions he could not answer, telling him Louis had barely noticed her.

  When he had dressed as well as he could from Mark’s oversized wardrobe, he turned her around and hugged her tightly.

  “That is not Louis out there, and those are not your brothers,” he told her as she cried into his collar. “I don’t know what this is, sweetheart, but I will get to the bottom of it. I promise. Now just try to stay calm and play along. I think it is some sort of witchcraft. A trick.”

  Oriel nodded and wiped at her eyes.

  “Thaddeus is out there, Poppi and he didn’t even notice me,” she said plaintively. “If this is a joke, it is in very poor taste. I have been worrying myself sick over you and Louis… and Thaddeus and the others!”

  “I know, Orri,” he said and his heart was breaking on top of pounding in terror. “I have been worried about you as well. There was no way to contact you. Louis has been… has been…” he could not think of what he had been about to say. Louis has been what? Where? He could not remember where he had been before he had found himself at the bottom of the swimming pool. “It’s OK. I promise.”

  They steeled themselves and prepared to open the door. He put his hand on the knob and the door burst inward before he could open it.

  Mark Andrew stood looking at him in surprise.

  “What are you doing in here, Brother?” The Knight of Death asked him. “The party is out by the pool.”

  “I’m sorry,” Simon smiled. “Orri was feeling a bit faint, and I brought here to use the facilities. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Of course not.” Mark Andrew assured them. He walked past them and into the bathroom. He looked back at them and smiled before closing the door.

  “This is just too weird, Poppi,” Oriel whispered. “I’ve never known him to be much on parties.”

  “He’s not really here, sweetheart,” he told her and pulled her through the door into the now empty sitting room. They could hear the sounds of laughter and conversation from the courtyard.

  The party was out by the pool.

  Chapter Eight of Sixteen

  Where is the way where light dwelleth?

  “I’m sure it’s all very lovely, Mother.”

  Konrad slouched at one of the black and yellow checkered picnic tables with his long legs extended in front of him and his hands clasped over his stomach. He was full to popping and half drunk. His mother certainly knew how to set a good table. He’d not tasted such wonderful sauerbraten and schnitzel in ages and ages. And the beer! It had to be Elven brew or Ramsay Stout. He picked up his mug lazily and took another short sip. “I believe everyone would be honored… truly honored to attend your reunion, but at the moment they are rather busy with the war and all.”

  “The war is over, Konrad,” Ereshkigal said as she sat down next to him and leaned one elbow on the table. “I saw the old bitch downed myself. She went to ground. She won’t be back. Even Adar said she was gone. It is time for celebration. Fun, they call it. No one knows how to have fun anymore.”

  “I didn’t know you were acquainted with the term,” he smiled slightly at his dark-complected mother. In the right light, she could actually be considered attractive. He thought perhaps it was her deeds and her power and, perhaps, her reputation that made her a frightening entity.

  “There is much you do not know about me, my son, and, mores’ the pity, I know very little of you and your brothers and sister. I want us to be a family. Semiramis makes me sick. Her children come and go and stay with her for ages. Why should I not enjoy the company of my children and grandchildren as well? Am I not as deserving as she?”

  “I have no idea,” Konrad told her honestly. “I vaguely remember you from the time before I was born.” He said the words and then had to laugh slightly at the way it sounded. “You were a good mother, I suppose.”

  “Were? Am I not still a good mother?” She asked him.

  “Of course you are,” he sat up a bit and tried to clear his head. He had to remember where he was and how dangerous this place might be. It looked like a pleasant meadow in England or Scotland on a clear day, but… “I didn’t mean to make it sound otherwise. Didn’t you just save your son and grandson from sure death?”

  “Well, it was just a simple matter.” She almost looked embarrassed, modest. “You should have called me!” She admonished him. “I can do many things for you. All you need to do is ask.”

  “I appreciate that, Mother. I really do.”

  The Knight of the Apocalypse leaned back and looked at his son. Apolonio was passed out on the table a little further on. A yellow butterfly had landed on his forehead and his mouth hung open.

  “Apolonio and I need to get back with the others. We’ll tell them about the reunion and when we get back home, we’ll make plans to come down… more often… make a regular holiday of it,” he told her.

  “Oh, no. That won’t do at all,” she said and poked him in the ribs. “You’re already here and for that matter, most of them are here as well. I have them… resting, you might say. Refreshing them before the festivities begin. They were weary as you say and ragged. Why I’ve never seen such a wrecked group of Knights! It was almost comical to see the mighty Templars in such shabby conditions. But not to worry, my son, they are all well and fit as fiddles. They will be renewed and rejuvenated by the time the party gets underway.”

  “I thought you said it was a family reunion?” Konrad frowned. This did not sound good. “Exactly who do you have… resting?”

  “Why all of them, of course.” She got up and took his mug to where one of the beer kegs lay on its side. She refilled his tankard and returned it to him. “Simon, Edgard, Louis, Izzy, Philip, Zeb, Christopher…”

  “All of them? They are not all truly members of the family,” he cut her off.

  “You’ve called them all brother, Konrad, and that makes them part of the family.” She sat down again and clapped her hands. One of her Boggans came at once to begin cleaning off the remains of the meal.

  “How? Tell how Simon’s sons can be part of our family?” He yawned as the sun’s rays bathed his face with a ruddy glow.

  “Simon is Oriel’s father. His sons and daughters and his son’s wives and children and his daughter’s husbands and children are her half-brothers and half-sisters and in-laws respectively. Nephews and nieces. That sort of thing. Any family of Oriel’s is family, and you should feel the same way.”

  “All right then, but what about Lavon? Do you have Lavon?” He asked, curiosity growing now.

  “Lavon de Bleu is Oriel’s ex-husband. You know that. Besides, he still loves her dearly and I can only love anyone who loves Oriel as a son, or, at least, as a son-in-law. Not only is he her ex-husband, he is Jozsef Daniel’s half-brother. That makes him family in more ways than one.”

  “What about the Master, Edgard? How did he get into the family?”

  “He is Oriel’s grandfather.”

  “And Barry of Sussex?”

  “He is Oriel’s half-brother-in-law. Adam Sussex is her half-nephew.”

  “Who else is coming?” Konrad asked her suspiciously.

  “Oh, my! That is a long list. There are so many…” she shrugged. “I�
��d have to get my guest list to be sure.”

  “Please.”

  Ereshkigal left him at the table and hurried away to fetch her lists, extremely happy to have someone interested in her party. Konrad slid down the bench to where his son snored peacefully. He poured a bit of the beer in his mouth, and Apolonio sputtered and spit before sitting up in a confused state.

  “Stay awake, Loni,” Konrad told him in a low voice as he watched their incongruous waiter clear the table. The Boggan did quite well except for cleaning the plates with its long black tongue and finishing off all the drinks as he worked. “We may have more trouble than I first thought.”

  Apolonio nodded and yawned and then turned his attention on the Boggan as well. Its ape-like features were offset by thoughtful, slightly feline eyes and a face full of course whiskers and rough, wrinkly skin.

  Ereshkigal returned with her list and laid it on the table for them to peruse.

  “Vanni, that’s understandable,” Konrad said after a moment. “But how did Luke Matthew get in here?”

  “He is King Il Dolce Mio’s half-brother,” she answered.

  “And what has that to do with anything?”

  “The King is Vanni’s daughter’s fiancé,” she sighed. “He is going to marry Polly.”

  “And Galen Ramsay?” He looked up at her doubtfully.

  “Vanni’s half-brother. Do you not keep up with family ties at all, Konrad?”

  “And Galindwynne? That has to be pushing it.”

  “She is Lucio’s grandmother and Vanni’s great-grandmother.”

  “How so?!” Konrad was truly surprised by this news.

  “Her daughter was Lucio’s mother.” She placed one hand over her heart and tilted her head as if to say ‘Duh!’ “And furthermore, she is Oriel’s great-aunt on her father’s side or rather half-great-aunt. She is Alexander Corrigan’s mother. And Alexander is Oriel’s half-uncle.”

  “Galindwynne is Alexander Corrigan’s mother?” Konrad fell against the table in shock. “Then she and d’Brouchart…”