“I still fight for the cause of freedom for our people Jakub,” the old general replied strongly. “I came back because Napoleon was taking most of Europe, including the Polish lands. I thought he would free Poland. So I went to talk to him, even offered my services. But alas, I found that he was nothing but a short power-hungry dictator who was more interested in plunder.”
“Yes, and now he too is gone, but we are still under the Russian yoke,” Jakub added sadly.
“Most recently I met with the new Tsar named Alexander I in Paris, but he just wants to carve up Poland into smaller pieces. He wanted me to serve in a small portion of what was once Poland. His plan was a joke. He renamed the area ‘Southern Prussia’. I even tried to emancipate the peasants on my remaining lands in Poland, but the Tsar disallowed it. Will Poland ever be free of the Russian vermin?”
“I agree,” Jakub replied. “It seems that the enlightened age of Poland is over. Stanislaw II did provide both of us with an advanced education though. He gave us a chance to hone our skills. Our Russian overseers see us as a resource to use up and discard. I’m afraid that Poland is doomed.”
Their discussion continued for another half an hour, during which time they covered the possible future of the Polish people. Both agreed that their people would rise again. Thaddeus then changed the subject.
“My sources tell me that you have a major project in the near future,” the general said suddenly.
“That is correct Thaddeus,” Jakub said with enthusiasm. “I have been commissioned to rebuild and put a glorious annex onto the Royal Castle in Warsaw. It will be called the “Banyon Arcades” and will be the new entrance to the Castle. The Castle will eventually be open to the public.”
“I’m also told that you will build a new residence for the Head of State in Warsaw.”
“You are well informed,” Jakub beamed. “It will be called the Belvedere, and will be built in the heart of Warsaw. I start that project next year. I too still work for the people of Poland.”
“Good. I am now convinced that you are the right man,” Thaddeus said solemnly with a shake of his head.
“Right man for what? Why am I here?”
“Be patient my friend,” Thaddeus Kościuszko, the Polish General, chided. “I must turn the artifact over to someone who I can trust. I needed to be sure that you were that man.”
“What artifact? What are you talking about?” Jakub Banyon was bewildered by the statement and flapped his arms in confusion.
“I’m talking about the most prized artifact in Polish history,” the general continued.
“What is it? Why give it to me? There must be dozens of men more worthy,” Jakub reasoned.
“Yes, there are many who would accept it, but you hold all the proper qualifications,” the old man retorted.
“What qualifications?”
The old man seemed to consider Jakub’s question before he answered. “First of all, I know you personally. Second, I now know that you still work to support the Polish people. Thirdly, you are a certified knight, receiving the honor in 1791. This artifact belongs in the hands of a knight.”
“The age of knighthood is over, Thaddeus. Future governments will be democracies and republics. The coming revolutions will dispose of Kings. There will be little room for knights,” Jakub said.
Acting like he hadn’t heard Jakub, the general continued. “The final reason is that you and I are both Freemasons. I know you can keep a secret.” The society of Freemasons had been rumored to keep and hide many secrets. Its membership at the time of the American Revolution boasted George Washington, Ben Franklin, Paul Revere, and many of the revolutionary leaders. In Europe the Freemasons were even more secretive, but nonetheless were a strong society.
Jakub was suddenly very pensive. He knew that Kościuszko was right, he could keep a secret, and as a Freemason, he was obligated to help his fellow member. “I understand,” Jakub Banyon said humbly and nodded his head.
“You must swear to me as a Freemason that you will protect the artifact,” the general demanded. “You must use your connections in the organization to keep it safe. You must use it to better our people.”
“I swear I will do everything in my power to protect the artifact,” Jakub immediately responded.
“Good,” the general said with finality. “We now have a bond that can never be broken.”
“Tell me about the artifact?”
“Let me dismiss the servant first,” Thaddeus said. He then addressed the servant. “laissez-nous,” and waved his hand in dismissal. The man bowed and withdrew from the room, closing the door behind him.
Jakub repeated his request. “Now tell me about the artifact.”
“Are you familiar with story of ‘The Magic Belt of Poland’?”
“That’s just a superstition,” Jakub quickly replied now wondering if Thaddeus had lost control of his mind.
“It’s not,” Thaddeus replied knowingly. “I actually have it in my possession. I have used its powers many times in the past.”
Jakub was stunned by this revelation. Polish folklore described The Magic Belt as having powers that could be utilized by only a certified knight. The power came from several talismans that adorned the belt. The knight would wear the belt and could invoke any of the weapons to fight. If there were several fighters, the knight would take off the belt, and they would stand in a circle with their companions, with their hair loose. Each person could then use a talisman. Each talisman on the belt performed different task. The belt appeared around 1600 A.D. but disappeared a hundred years later. The original belt was actually a piece of parchment which was eighty-nine inches long. The back of the belt contained magic symbols with prayers used to control the talismans. The talismans hung from the belt.
“Where did you obtain The Magic Belt?” It was all that Jakub could muster.
“I obtained it during my time in America, at the time of the Revolutionary War. It was given to me by none other than Casimir Pulaski. Remember, he was also a knight. He said I needed it more than he did.”
“But he died fighting in the war. Why did he give it to you?”
“Casimir was a cavalry officer. I was a planner and defender for the Americans. He thought I could do the most good with The Magic Belt. He also believed I would return to Poland to use it for our cause. He said he could never return to our homeland, a bounty was on his head.”
Quickly becoming a believer, Jakub pleaded. “Where is it? I must see it.” Like Kościuszko, Jakub Banyon was a Roman Catholic. He believed in many of the superstitions of the church. Magic was a short step in believing.
Thaddeus instructed Jakub to go to his desk. He told Jakub that he could not get out of bed to do it himself. When Jakub was at the ornate piece of furniture, the old man told him how to unlock the secret chamber hidden in the underside of the writing area. Jakub opened the panel and pulled out the belt. It was adorned with trinkets.
Jakub held the belt with reverence as he studied it. It had eight round talismans that appeared to be made of polished gemstone or of some type of metal. There was a knife sheath as well. He quickly realized the belt was more like a sash than an actual belt. It could be wrapped around a waist and tied to look like an ornament. There was writing next to each talisman. On the back of the belt he could see more writing, but much of it was faded. He brought it carefully over to the bed.
“I have seen many of these before. Many knights wore them as amulets in Poland. What magic does it perform?” Jakub asked the general.
“There is a difference between an amulet and a talisman,” the old man croaked. “An amulet wards off evil while a talisman provides the power of magic. The belt has magical powers.”
“What magic does each of these talismans perform?”
“The eight round spheres represent: determination, destiny, health, addiction, love, security, emotions and relationships. The knife sheath is my own. It was only there for protection. But when used together in a circle, the power
of the belt is magnified many-fold.”
“How so?” Jakub asked.
“The first time I used it, the belt allowed me to hear the thoughts of my enemy during the war. As a result, I learned their plans and was able to counter them.”
“You could read their minds?”
“I just had to think of the person and could access their thoughts,” the general replied. “But it can do much more,” he added sinisterly.
“Tell me,” Jakub now demanded.
“I could change my appearance into any animal I desired. I could then hunt my enemy. I could blind them with light, and I could create a sound that made them shake which made them drop their weapons. I could even conjure up a fireball which I could hurl at the enemy.”
“It sounds like the belt can do anything you could imagine,” Jakub reasoned.
“Yes,” the old man said. “It is all-powerful. It must be controlled by someone who will use its powers wisely.”
“This belt is unbelievable!” Jakub exclaimed.
“There are more secrets to the belt, but that is for you to discover. It did not come with any instructions,” the old man said with finality. A secret society protects the talismans. I’m sure they will contact you in the near future.”
“A secret society?” Jakub Banyon repeated. “How secret?”
“They have been around for thousands of years,” the general replied with sincerity.
“And they will teach me about The Magic Belt?”
“Promise me that you will learn its secrets and use them to better our people.”
“This I promise you,” Jakub replied sincerely.
“Then you must go now. You have a long journey ahead of you, my friend. I officially pass The Magic Belt of Poland to you.”
Jakub Banyon, renowned architect, knight of the commonwealth, protector of Poland, and Freemason, left the general. In his possession was The Magic Belt. Kościuszko died two days later.
For almost two centuries, Jakub Banyon, his friends, and ancestors protected The Magic Belt, but now things have gotten more complicated.
Chapter Two
PRESENT DAY
C
olton Banyon awoke with a start. His first thought was; where am I? His second thought was; where is Loni? He didn’t try to move for several seconds as he struggled to regain consciousness. At first he had trouble focusing as a major-league headache throbbed in his head. After about a minute, the ache subsided. He began to take in his surroundings. The room was dark, but some light filtered in from two high windows on the back of the far wall. He quickly noticed that the windows were barred like a jail cell. As he turned his head he noticed that there were many objects in the room. They looked like old furniture. In fact, the room could only be described as a cluttered storage area. The walls looked aged and were unpainted white stucco. He realized that the room had been finished before there was wall board.
He was prone on his back on some kind of a cot. As he attempted to sit up, he found that his legs were tied together at the ankles. His arms were also secured behind his back. Some kind of tape covered his mouth. My god, I’ve been kidnapped, he thought. Panic began to set in, but he fought it off. I must find Loni.
After some maneuvering, he was able to swing his legs over the side of the cot, and eventually sat up. He then began a thorough search of the room with his eyes. Everything he saw appeared to be very old furnishings. He finally saw her stretched out on another cot in the corner of the room. She wasn’t moving.
With much difficult he stood up, and hopped towards her. His shoes slapped at the concrete floor loudly as he made his way towards her. He studied her body as he approached. Her eyes were closed. She didn’t react or move as he approached. She was unconscious. He searched her body with his eyes for any serious wounds and realized that she was beaten up pretty badly. She had put up a strong fight, but had lost. Her beautiful long hair was all disheveled. It splayed out around her small head. Her beautiful Chinese face had a scratch on her cheek and dried blood covered her puffy lower lip. Her pretty dress was covered with dirt. It was ripped on one sleeve. There were several bruises forming on her bare arms, legs, and feet. As he approached the cot, he noticed that her red high heels were neatly positioned by her cot. Why would a kidnapper take her shoes? Maybe this is something else? He decided to take a closer look at Loni. He couldn’t call out to her because of the tape on his mouth.
With horror, he realized that the front of her low cut gown had been deliberately pulled down. Her left breast was completed exposed. Banyon immediately saw red before his eyes. If they have touched her I’m going to kill whoever is responsible for this. He increased his hopping so he could be by her side.
He soon recognized the cot. It was a World War II army cot. The color was faded, but looked to be dirty brown. No one has used these in many years, he thought as he reached the seemingly flimsy bed. She was also trussed up just like he was, and this gave him hope that she was still alive, otherwise, why tie her up. She looked small and fragile on the cot. Soaking wet, Loni was only one hundred pounds while standing a diminutive five foot-two inches tall. It broke his heart to see her look that way.
He nudged the cot with his thigh. He was soon relieved when suddenly her dark, almond shaped eyes flicked open. They seemed unfocused. He believed she had been subdued, just like he had been, by some sort of injection.
He gave her time to recover her senses while he sat down calmly on the edge of the bed. After a few minutes she began to struggle against her bonds. She eventually turned on her side. Her mouth was inches from his hands tied behind his back. She mumbled something, but because of the tape on her mouth, Banyon could not understand her. She whacked her head against his fingers and he then understood. It took him a few minutes, but he soon had the tape in his grasp. She pulled her head back. He heard a ripe as the tape peeled off.
“Those bastards ruined my new dress,” she shouted vehemently. “If it’s the last thing that I ever do, I’ll get them for that.” Banyon was not surprised that her first concern was her personal appearance.
Within seconds, she was on her feet, standing over Banyon. She turned around and wiggled close to him. Using her fingers to search his face, she found the tape and gripped the edge. She then hopped forward. Banyon felt a sharp pain as the tape was removed, but it quickly disappeared.
“Loni, are you hurt?” Banyon quickly asked with concern.
“Only my pride,” she briskly replied. “I should have been more alert.”
“I mean, did they do anything to you?” Banyon said as he searched for a way to ask if she had been molested.
“No, I don’t think so,” she said pensively as she thought back to the struggle. “But I was knocked out some of the time.
“Are you sure? You left breast is hanging out.”
“Oh!” Loni exclaimed. After a few seconds she continued. “But I think I still have my panties on,” she said clinically.
Banyon felt somewhat relieved so he now concentrated on getting them out of captivity. “You didn’t by chance wear your jade ring today, did you? I could use a box cutter.” Loni had been given a jade ring by her father many years ago. The ancient Chinese good luck ring could sometimes conjure up almost anything that Banyon asked it to produce. They had used the ring several times before during their adventures.
“No, I didn’t Colt,” she answered with frustration. “This event was supposed to be a celebration not a war.”
He now stood up and they faced each other. She in her ripped dress with her breast hanging out, and he in his fine tailored suit without a wrinkle.
“Too bad,” he absently replied and tried to think. “Maybe we can find something sharp to cut our bonds. Let’s search the room. You go left, and I’ll hop right and…”
“But I do have a knife,” she interrupted him with a bit of mischief in her voice. Loni was always remarkably resourceful.
“What?” Banyon cried out as he wondered where she had hidden it.
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“It’s small, but will be able to cut these ropes,” she announced.
“Where is it?”
“It’s taped to the inside of my left thigh,” she announced. “I can still feel it there. You just have to go in there and get it.” Now understanding that she had not been groped or they would have found the knife, Banyon felt completely relieved.
“You wore a knife under your party dress,” Banyon said incredulously.
“Of course,” she spat back. “That’s why this dress is longer than usual. Colt, didn’t you notice? It almost reached my knees.”
“You brought a knife on purpose?”
“A girl has got to be prepared, you know. We are in a foreign country,” she said defensively.
Thinking of the logistics, Banyon asked his resourceful partner a question. “How can we remove it? Our hands are tied behind our backs.”
“Well,” she said with a smile. “It will be fun. I can still spread my legs. You just have to go in there and rummage around for it.”
“How?”
“I’ll sit on the edge of the cot. You can kneel in front of me facing away. It might be a little awkward for you, but I’ll guide your fingers.” One of the reasons that Banyon loved Loni was because she approached everything like a fun adventure. She rarely became flustered under pressure. She could deal with most anything thrown at her. She also became sexually stimulated by danger. He could tell that she was heating up.
She immediately hopped over to the cot and sat down on the very edge. She then opened her legs as far as she could. “I’m ready,” she announced. Banyon dropped to his knees and moved in close. He could clearly see a three inch knife in a sheath taped to her toned thigh. He studied the position of the tape.
“This could be tricky, I don’t know if I can lift my arms high enough with them behind my back,” he acknowledged.
“Quit admiring the view and get to work,” she chided him. “I’ll squat down. I’ll be closer to the ground.” She then slipped off of the cot with her legs spread. Banyon turned around and positioned himself between her legs, then shuffled back towards her. Soon he found her thigh. He ran his hands along the inside until he found the tip of the sheath. His arms were in torturous pain, but he didn’t complain.
A Dubious Device: The Nanobot Terror (A Colton Banyon Mystery Book 10) Page 34