The Perfect Sun

by Brendan Carroll

  “We are not all having nightmares, Grandfather,” Izzy spoke up. “I have dreamed of my wife and the dreams were most pleasant. It was as if she were here with me again. We went for a swim and spoke together as we did when she was alive. I enjoyed the visit.”

  Edgard raised his head and looked at his grandson. Izzy had never gotten over his wife’s death and still spoke of her as if she were alive. It was something that grieved Edgard mightily. It was not fair. Philip had lost his wife and Zebulon as well. Hell, they had all lost wives… except Levi and Levi was not with them. Levi had disappeared shortly after his sister had left them.

  “And again, no one can add anything new on the disappearance of Oriel and Levi?” Barry asked hopefully. He was happy to have Rachel, Adam and Anne here with him. If they were to disappear, he knew he would lose his mind once and for all.

  Everyone shook their heads in unison.

  “I believe,” Meredith spoke up from her seat near the far end of the table, “that one or more powers of the Abyss are responsible for our predicament. I would hazard a guess that the queen mother is directly involved.”

  “We have already decided that much is true,” Edgard agreed and leaned back in his chair. It no longer creaked when he moved. “Everyone has tried to use whatever powers that were formerly at his or her disposal and to no avail. We are completely cut off, and I know that we are not in Italy. I spoke with Catharine de Goth… Dambretti and she told me that she tried to purchase a newspaper while she was in Naples. The newspaper, although a believable facsimile, was nothing more than a sham. A concoction of general news items that was not news at all. No dates, no specific names or places or times attached to any of the stories contained in it. All the articles referred to local events; nothing that could remotely be used to ascertain specific dates. The articles could have been taken from any daily newspaper from 1950 to the present day. Personals, advertisements, obits, editorials on moral issues. Not even a political cartoon. I share Madam Dambretti’s opinion that this entire place is a concoction created for our confinement.”

  “But we are unmolested,” Lavon shrugged. “If our enemies have created a prison for us, it is, indeed, most pleasant. Not what one would expect. We have everything here we might need. Food, water, clothing, shelter, entertainment. We can freely associate with each other. Enjoy each other’s company at will just as we might if we were truly at the villa in Italy. It does not ring true to suppose an enemy has imprisoned us here. It is as if some benefactor has taken us out of the picture, so to speak, and placed us out of harm’s way, perhaps. A sort of safekeeping, if you will.”

  “Safekeeping…” Lucio sat up straighter. “I see.” He looked up and down the table. “Everyone here or almost everyone is related to everyone else. We have some key figures missing.”

  “List for us those who are missing, Lavon.” Edgard nodded to the golden Knight who still served as Historian for the Order.

  “Konrad von Hetz, Louis Champlain, Apolonio von Hetz, Mark Andrew Ramsay, Luke Matthew Ramsay, Luke Andrew Ramsay, Oriel Champlain, Merry Ramsay, Levi d’Ornan and his wife. It is speculation to assume Merry Ramsay and Menaka d’Ornan are not where they should be, but I will assume anyone and everyone having anything to do with the Order of the Red Cross of Gold has been affected. We have not seen Omar Kadif or his father since the battles in the desert. We have not seen Lucifer or his angels, nor have we seen the elf King or even the clurichaun associated with the Ramsay clan. And, fortunately, we’ve not seen anyone here who has passed. What we have, it seems is a separation by family of sorts. I may be an anomaly, myself, but even Christopher Stewart is not among us and he is more closely associated with the Ramsay’s than the d’Ornans. I, on the other hand, was briefly Brother Simon’s son-in-law. That might explain my presence here rather than wherever the rest might be.”

  “A good summation. A good point,” Edgard agreed. “It is possible that they might be held somewhere more closely associated with the Ramsay clan such as Scotland that is not really Scotland.” He looked directly at Meredith. “What I don’t understand is why you are here, Meredith. Should you not be with the Ramsays as well?”

  “Two of my former husbands are here, Your Grace,” she pointed out with some measure of embarrassment. “Lavon is also my grandson.”

  “Oh, yes, of course, I’m sorry.” Edgard cleared his throat at his faux pas.

  Simon cleared his throat nervously. The Healer had several dreams about Meredith in which she was still his wife and he had no intention of divulging the contents thereof here or anywhere else.

  “Lucifer could be anywhere,” Simon interjected quickly, trying to change the subject. “He is not really associated with either family. Lavon remembers seeing him in the desert. We were riding for our lives, and he was making an announcement…” Simon turned to the golden Knight on his right. “What was that you told me, Brother?”

  Lavon ducked his head and his cheeks burned. He had confessed his memory to Simon, thinking it was nothing more than a crazy dream.

  “Please, Brother,” Simon touched his arm. “Tell them. It could be important. None of us have done any better.”

  “I remember Lucifer standing in the desert with his arms outspread. He said ‘Lo I bring glad tidings of great joy. Unto you is born a child’ and something more about a manger and a covenant.”

  “Damn me!” Edgard slammed his fist on the table and stood up. “Why didn’t you tell me this?” He glared at the younger Knight.

  “He told me in confession, father,” Simon turned on his father. “He was afraid.”

  “I have had this same dream.” Edgard raised his eyebrows. “I have heard the angel speaking these words. The angel. The messenger of light.”

  “I’ve heard it as well,” Izzy spoke up and then Zeb nodded. Philip agreed.

  “Then we must be in the Abyss,” Meredith concluded. “Only in the Abyss would we be experiencing the same dreams, seeing the same visions, hearing the same voices. The ethereal worlds lie very close together in the Abyss. Not only are we in the Abyss, but I would guess we are in one of the Gates. Mark Andrew had a complete reconstruction of his home in Lothian in the Seventh Gate. John Paul took me there to see it.”

  “Great day in the morning.” Edgard’s mouth fell open. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I’m no longer a member of your council, Sir.” She said sadly and smiled at him. “I haven’t been at this table in ages. Besides, I would not betray Mark Andrew’s personal secrets to you without good reason.”

  “Then it is possible Sir Ramsay is responsible for this?” Barry of Sussex was also on his feet. “It would make sense. He has always tried to protect us when things went wrong, and I believe things were going very wrong for us in the desert, Sir. Or, perhaps, this is all simply an accident. Most of you remember when Sir Ramsay attempted to change history and almost wiped us all out? People were disappearing left and right. Could be a simple accident or by-product of some botched magick. I’m sure he will correct it in time. It is possible these disappearances are evidence he may be working toward that end even as we speak.”

  Edgard turned angrily on his Seneschal. “You would defend him? If anything, he has imprisoned us here. Taken us out of the picture as Lavon has surmised. I should have known who was behind this. He wants to protect his interests while he and his clan go about their business uninterrupted.”

  “What business would that be, Your Grace?” Lavon was standing now. “My grandfather cares nothing for this world. What business would he have other than protecting the people he loves, and the people he feels responsible for?”

  “How dare you?!” The Master leaned on the table. “I do not need Ramsay’s protection!”

  “Then how do you explain this place? How can you accuse him?” Meredith asked calmly. “You have always been jealous of Mark Andrew, Edgard. You told me so yourself. When are you going to stop blaming him for everything that goes wrong?”

  “When it stops being his fa
ult!” Edgard told her angrily.

  “I suggest we all sit down and have another glass of lemonade,” Lucio held up his empty cup. “This finger-pointing will profit us nothing. We are here and whoever put us here will eventually make himself or herself or… Santa Maria… itself, known to us. I suggest we keep vigilant, in that we meet here every day after dinner to compare notes and keep our eyes open for clues in the meantime. The will of God cannot be hurried, nor can it be altered.”

  “Just because something wants to treat us like toys does not mean we need react like children. We are men of great learning and understanding. If we hold to our course, the stars will not fail us, and as long as they remain in the heavens, then we can be sure God’s Will holds sway over any who might rise against Him.”

  “What is our purpose? What vows did we take when we became Knights of this Council? What vows did we take when we became members of the Order? How does it go?”

  The Italian asked the question while looking around the table at the faces there. Most all of them were new. Only Barry, Simon and d’Brouchart remained from the old school. Most of these new Knights had never heard the Golden Eagle speak. They sat watching and listening intently to him.

  “We speak firstly to all those who secretly despise their own will and desire with a pure heart to serve the sovereign king as a knight and with studious care desire to wear, and wear permanently, the very noble armor of obedience. And therefore we admonish you, you who until now have led the lives of secular knights, in which Jesus Christ was not the cause, but which you embraced for human favor only, to follow those whom God has chosen from the mass of perdition and whom he has ordered through his gracious mercy to defend the Holy Church, and that you hasten to join them forever. The Holy Church and that church being the first church, the Holy Church of Christ, which is not taught in the gilded halls of the cathedral, but is heard in the meadow, on the hillside or in darkened caves. Wherever two of us are gathered in the Name of Christ, there is His Church. And I submit to you that His Church cannot fail, cannot fall, cannot falter, but that it must and will remain strong and united against those forces sent against. His Holy Church has prevailed through the bloodshed by the Innocents, the Perfecti, the Martyrs. We are His Holy Church and we will prevail.” Lucio was speaking of the old Cathar religion so hated and hunted and persecuted by the Roman Church.

  Most everyone at the table nodded their mutual agreement with the Italian. Edgard clearly did not like this show of support for the Golden Eagle. He glared at his Seneschal and then picked up his gavel.

  “I will take these things under advisement,” he said before signaling the end of the meeting. “Our illustrious Golden Eagle has become a sage in his spare time, but I see that my young council is beguiled by his golden tongue. Therefore, I will adjourn…”

  “One moment, Your Grace.” Lucio pushed back his chair and stood up. “This is my country, Italia, where you came to plant your seeds and store your wine. I have allowed you to abuse me because I did not know any better and because I believed in the noble cause of the Order. And who taught me that noble cause? Was it you, Master d’Brouchart? Was it you or your Seneschals? Your Masters-at-Arms? Your priests?”

  “No, it was not! The Chevalier du Morte taught me what it meant to serve the Order that serves God. The same honorable and noble man you grind beneath your heel at every turn. And I said to myself, ‘Master Dambretti, why is it Master d’Brouchart hates you so very much?’ and I could not answer until now.”

  Lucio’s brown eyes snapped with anger as he leaned both hands on the table.

  “I have seen my mother in a vision, and she spoke to me of her mother and her mother’s brother. You despise me because I am of your blood. You cannot divorce what is of your own blood. You could not kill me, and yet, you could not claim me. What is it that the honorable fathers of our Order embraced without knowing what they embrace? Did they not bring a snake into their bosoms when they said ‘Above all things, whosoever would be a knight of Christ, choosing such holy orders, you in your profession of faith must unite pure diligence and firm perseverance, which is so worthy and so holy, and is known to be so noble, that if it is preserved untainted forever, you will deserve to keep company with the martyrs who gave their souls for Jesus Christ. In this religious order has flourished and is revitalized the order of knighthood. This knighthood despised the love of justice that constitutes its duties and did not do what it should, that is defend the poor, widows, orphans and churches, but strove to plunder, despoil and kill. God works well with us and our savior Jesus Christ; He has sent his friends from the Holy City of Jerusalem to the marches of France and Burgundy, who for our salvation and the spread of the true faith do not cease to offer their souls to God, a welcome sacrifice.’?”

  “The Holy Roman Church, whom we oppose heartily, embraced us and used us and we used them until the worm turned. Yet, where is our purpose, Master d’Brouchart? Where are the orphans? The poor? The widows? Have we not plundered and despoiled even as the Church we so despised? And still you persist in dishonoring your Brother? Remember, God does work well with us and works well through us and will continue to work for us as long as we uphold our beliefs and each other. I am no sage, Your Grace. I am merely a mortal man, who has lived far too long. I am pleased that Sir Ramsay and his family are not among us because that can only mean there is hope out there for a good end to all of this. When I cannot see my Brother, I appreciate what is best in him. It is as the Prophet said ‘a mountain is best viewed from the plain’. Perhaps we cannot see the forest for the trees.”

  D’Brouchart remained standing in silence for some time before blinking. He could think of no rebuttal for Dambretti’s words.

  “Perhaps you are right, Sir, and I am hasty in my suspicion simply based on my experience with the Scot,” he said at last. “Perhaps the Ramsay clan is working diligently with firm perseverance to find us even as we speak. Let us pray that it is so. We will meet again tomorrow after supper if nothing has changed in the interim.” The master banged the gavel on the table, then left the room quickly with Sir Barry on his heels.

  The room emptied quickly as Simon and his sons took their leave. Lavon went with them and they were met by a babble of voices when Simon’s sons who were not full Knights of the Council met them on the porch, asking questions none of them could answer.

  Meredith remained sitting at the table and Lucio stood staring down at the silver goblet with the golden medallion engraved with the letters IAATQ. It was turned up-side-down in front of an empty space across from him. Christopher’s cup, Louis’ cup and even John Paul’s cup with the silver Bugs Bunny on it sat on the table, left there when Lavon had deserted the chamber. Luke Andrew’s cup was not on the table, but sitting on an ornate shelf above the liquor cabinet beside Armand de Bleu’s black onyx goblet. Whoever had set this place up surely had done a great deal of research. Konrad’s cup, which had belonged to his father before him was also present. The Italian picked up his own golden goblet by the double handles fashioned after ibis beaks. He drank the rest of his wine and set the cup down forcefully. Beneath his calm exterior, he was boiling mad at the Grand Master.

  “Dammit, Meredith!” He raised his eyes to meet hers. “Where is he?”

  “I wish I knew.” She looked down at her hands. “But it must be as you say, Lucio. He is probably with John Paul, Luke Matthew and the others. And if anyone can find us, they can do it.”

  “There is one other thing to consider.” Lucio sat down heavily in his chair. “The Master could be right. He might have put us here for our own good… or what he surmises to be our own good. Look who we have here, Meredith. Who does he love?”

  “I don’t think that Alexander and Edgard would fall into that characterization,” she smiled at him.

  “But he loves Galindwynne and Galindwynne is to Edgard what you are to him and John Paul.” Lucio narrowed his eyes at her. “By extension, Alexander belongs here… he is the beloved Healer’s brother.”
/>
  “You may have a point. He always tried to see after Simon.”

  “Yes, he did. And I have my sons here and my grandson and my wife. I just wish he would stop trying to think for all of us.”

  “Then you really believe that Mark put us here?” Her expression changed.

  “Don’t you?” Lucio pushed himself up and leaned on the table, looking at her intensely, “Don’t you?”

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  “We must try,” Armand said, shrugged and turned up his tankard one more time. He was growing quite tipsy and his lovely wife was frowning at him from the foot of the long table.

  “It could be very dangerous,” Lemarik said and looked up at the vaulted ceiling.

  The room was very quiet around them. The fire crackled in the hearth, the snores of elves and clurichauns droned softly and the murmured confession of Ernst Schweikert continued in the corner of the room where Omar, the Prophet stood with one hand on his former general’s head, listening to him pour out his heart-wrenching plea for forgiveness. Omar was not really there, but Ernst didn’t really seem to care. “I tried to accompany Sir Dambretti and his group to the Gate. Most of us were rejected. Only a few were allowed to pass, and I cannot say if they all went to the same place. Lord Adar went by another means, and I can only assume, once again, he ended up where he meant to be. It worries me greatly that we have heard nothing from them. The Abyss is a tremendous place. Endless.”

  “We must try,” Armand repeated and swayed to his feet. Lucifer sat watching him from clear, but aloof eyes. The former Knight looked down at him and placed one hand on his shoulder. “Won’t you come with us, sir? Surely you wish to see the child for yourself?”