“Dad, maybe it was a good idea to come here after all,” Jacob said, laughing at the thought that his father had a good idea.
“Well, I told you coming here would be a great opportunity. Not many get to; I have been applying to come here for many years,” Ridgeway acknowledged. “But I want both of you to know that as much fun as you two plan to have, this is work for me. You two will help me do some of my research; there are far too many books here for me to cover.”
“What are you researching? Haven’t you been to many monasteries like this before?” Jessica quizzed him.
Jacob and Jessica plopped down onto the couch next to the fireplace, already at home. Ridgeway stood there staring. Both of the twins looked at each other with a little concern. They had never seen their father this way. He was always such a studious and serious man, but this was quite different. He was hiding something and they knew it.
Jacob got up and approached his father, wanting to wake him from whatever dream he was having. It was starting to scare him.
“Dad?”
Ridgeway turned to acknowledge that someone had spoken to him.
“I’m sorry. I think the journey and finally being here has had an effect on me.”
“You haven’t told us what you are researching,” Jessica said with a little more than an inquisitive look.
“Yes, Father. You must tell us why you have so wanted to come here. We want to be in on any secrets,” added Jacob.
Both were now approaching their father with determined looks. Their father knew what they were up to, and he wasn’t about to have any of it. He was backing up and shaking his head.
“No, no, no. You don’t want to do this. You know the retribution will be horrible,” he said with mock seriousness.
They slowly advanced on him like lions on the hunt, both with wicked smiles.
“You know you will have to tell us everything. We wouldn’t have it any other way,” Jessica added.
“And you won’t be able to withstand the agony,” Jacob went on.
Suddenly, both of his children charged him and knocked him over onto the large bed.
“Don’t do this. You two will pay dearly. I’m warning you!”
“But Dad, you know you deserve no less and we shall have the truth,” Jacob said mockingly. “You know this will hurt us more than it will hurt you.”
With that Jacob began to apply the dreaded chest peck, a torture consisting of pecking the chest of someone with your knuckle constantly while they were restrained. The torture would drive even the sturdiest man to spill his guts. Jacob was giving just payback.
“For the love of all things holy, please stop!”
Knowing he wasn’t ready to give up, Jacob persisted. Both of the siblings were laughing heartily at the misery of their father.
“Ok! Get off of me, please.”
Jacob and Jessica let their father up and sat on the bed near him as they waited with anticipation.
“You know I have studied many old texts? Well, I’ve come to realize there may be a hidden history that deals with this place,” Ridgeway enthusiastically began his explanation.
“I don’t know much, but I have found some references to what is known as the “Brotherhood of the Word,” something of a secretive group only rumored about, really. I’ve been trying to determine if there is a link to the Monastery of the Word. It made sense to me at first because of the work the monks do here with old books and manuscripts, maintaining and studying them, and this monastery isn’t well known. It’s not so much secret, just seldom spoken of.”
“What is the point of the Brotherhood? Why are you so interested in whether they existed?” Jacob asked. “And do you really think these monks are the Brotherhood of the Word?”
“I think the Brotherhood still exists. I have my own reasons for interest,” their father said, cryptically. “And I believe they share a secret that could be profound.”
***
Evening came as the Ridgeway family was getting acquainted with their new surroundings. They had explored their rooms to the fullest. They even searched for secret doors; the two siblings knew they were there just waiting to be discovered.
“There must be one somewhere,” Jacob said as he peered behind a tapestry that must have been older than Methuselah. All he got for his efforts was a little dust in his face.
“Why must there be a secret door?” Jessica asked skeptically.
“Because there always is, little sister. Don’t you know anything? I mean, look at this place.”
“My dear brother, what are you talking about?”
“If you were to study such things, as I have, you would know most of these places were for wealthy landowners or religious hierarchy—people who, if they were in trouble, would need a way to escape that no one would know about. You heard the monk say it himself, with the markings over all the doors. This place was designed that way.” Jacob felt he had been keenly observant.
“Or they were probably built to spy on its occupants.”
“Well, now that you mention it, yes they were. This room is where the guests would stay, didn’t he say? It probably hasn’t really changed since the place was built. They always had things laid out in specific order. The owners had their own area of the castle, the servants had theirs, and the guests had a specific area as well. People of stature probably had visitors of an important nature at times, so they might have wanted to keep an eye on them.” Jacob came to a chair and sat down, tired from his quest.
“You’re not a very good detective, are you?”
“I don’t see you having any more luck,” Jacob fired back, hoping to spur his sister into action. Jessica shrugged. s
“I’m tired and I’m hungry,” Jessica said as their father came in.
“Good, ‘cause it’s time for dinner.”
chapter FOUR
SEBASTIAN OPENED HIS EYES to see he was outside and it was dark. He wondered how he got here and why. How long had he been asleep?
He began walking and soon realized he didn’t know what path he was on. He knew most of the paths in the surrounding area; he was the one responsible for most of the wear. But this one was different … it was overgrown and rocky.
Sebastian stopped, and his feeling of alarm increased. He searched for anything amiss, but nothing was there. He continued to walk, but the path was old and nearly faded; few stones revealed its former glory. He took one in his hand and brushed it off. There was a cross carved on the surface. It was an old style, like so many emblazoned on shields or crests.
He searched for more clues about its history, until he looked closely and there was something else. Sebastian took a stick and scraped the stone. There was an inscription in Latin. The translation came to him. Sebastian looked up in a nearly frantic state.
“Ingredior of silenti … the walk of the dead,” he uttered aloud without knowing he was doing so. This sound of his own voice startled him.
The wind was blowing, and the fog hung low in the trees. He knew the path was leading him somewhere. His brain was working overtime. Too many things didn’t make sense. He knew that to answer his questions he must keep going, even if he was afraid to do so.
There was a flash of movement in the woods just to his right. He caught only a glimpse of a figure in the corner of his eye. There was no real shape to it, only a silhouette. He crouched down in anticipation of something but nothing came. Sebastian didn’t know if he should be glad of that or not.
Once again, movement caught his attention and sent his heart racing. There was something just on the edge of his vision. Was someone playing a trick on him? If they were, he didn’t like it at all.
“Ingredior of silenti …” the phrase returned over and over; there could be many meanings behind it, but one stuck out in his mind.
Sebastian kept walking until all at once he was in a field on a hilltop, never remembering leaving the woods. As he looked around he could see the sky and all the stars lighting up the night. Even thoug
h the area was dark, he could make out several figures.
Two people stood on a stone slab at the top of the hill. He recognized someone he hadn’t seen in some time—someone who should not be there. A familiar expression looked straight back. Sebastian shook his head and looked again. He closed his eyes forcing himself to focus.
Sebastian opened his eyes again to confirm what he thought he was seeing. His brother William stood silently, but he was there, though it should not be possible. Any fear for himself dissipated with the feeling his brother was in danger. He tried to move toward the stone but was unable to do so. Confusion swirled in Sebastian’s head.
Sebastian’s fear grew as he saw the figures force his brother onto the stone and bind him to it. Sebastian tried to break free of his invisible bonds but could not. He tried calling out, but his voice strained to whisper.
Several additional figures moved around the stone encircling the platform. Each one pulled out a long shiny piece of metal, each one at least five feet in length. They shone brightly even by the light of the stars in the night. One was handed to the center figure on the stone where he stood over William. He held up the shining metal blade and drove it into William’s outstretched hand, forcing down the metal spike until it was but a foot out of the stone.
Sebastian let out a cry that should have been deafening, but silence remained. He didn’t even notice there was no sound, for he felt a pain he could hardly understand.
Once again the figure was handed a shining silver metal blade. He raised the blade and drove it into the left hand. William let out a scream of agony Sebastian heard clearly.
The event was destroying Sebastian as if it were himself. He shook his head in disbelief. Sebastian looked up to see another raised spike of metal over his brother and watched it being driven down into his left foot. Another scream came forward, one of pure anguish, tearing at Sebastian’s soul.
This was maddening! Why could he not help his brother? How was his brother here? Why were these people torturing him? The questions came to him one after the other. Sebastian seemed to slip off when another scream of pain brought him back to the reality before him.
Sebastian looked up to see that another spike had been driven into William’s other foot, pinning him across the stone. Sebastian shook with sorrow; he tried to turn it into anger. He clenched his teeth and with all his might he tried to move forward, but to no avail.
The torture never stopped as he watched the figure take another blade looking down to the struggling body of his brother. Sebastian shook his head in denial as the blade rose in the air and then rushed down into William’s chest.
Sebastian looked on in horror and listened to his brother gasping for breath. He could hardly breathe, himself. The body of his brother was barely moving now, constrained by the five spikes. Sebastian looked past the figures standing there, never moving. The side of the stone was now running with blood. Sebastian looked away, not knowing how to deal with what he was seeing. He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the images just as he heard his name being called.
“Sebastian!” William cried.
Sebastian looked up slowly, still trying to avoid the image. As he opened his eyes the only thing he saw was another glimmering piece of metal raised up in the air, and then forcefully plunged down penetrating the skull of his brother’s tortured body.
The screams ended and Sebastian fell to his knees and dropped his face into his hands. This was more than he could take. This was more than anyone should ever have to endure. He felt every piercing his brother endured. This was more pain than he had felt in a long time, a sensation he had almost forgotten.
Sebastian finally looked up, and all the figures were gone, save the body of his brother and the lone dark figure standing over him. The strobe light of the moon played over him as the clouds of the night sky crossed its face. The dark figure’s stare was fixed on Sebastian, paying no heed to the broken and bleeding body beneath him. Just as the light of the moon faded, so did the figure. And then he was gone.
Sebastian rose, his system in complete shock, not having any sense of himself or his surroundings. In a daze, he approached the stone slab. He looked upon his brother, wondering how this could have happened. Sebastian spoke.
“Why did I not know you were alive, only to watch you die a second time? I died the first time I saw you killed; now I had to watch you die again. Tell me this isn’t real. Tell me this was just a bad dream.”
As Sebastian spoke, he looked around and tried to piece together everything that didn’t make sense. Why did he come here and how? Where did these people come from and where did they go? Why could he not move when that was all he wanted to do? How could his brother be here when he had seen him killed long ago? Sebastian then asked a simple question.
“Why is there no snow?”
Like a rush Sebastian woke, sitting straight up with a jolt. He took a minute to take in his surroundings. He was not outside in the woods or in a field. He was in his room with all the familiar things that made this his home. As he sat there he began to recall the nightmare he had just lived. He thought of his long-lost brother, William, and his death. Sebastian sat there quietly as the tears began to run down his face. He had not cried in a long time, but nothing would be able to stop the tears now. He had been only seventeen and would never know pain like that again.
chapter FIVE
EVERYONE SAT AROUND THEIR TABLES trying to breathe. They had smiles on their faces from the spectacular meal they had just enjoyed.
“A very fine meal. If I knew monks had it so good I would have signed up long ago,” Ridgeway said.
“I am sure the good Lord is always willing to take on new workers at any age, especially if all they need to sign up is a satisfied stomach,” Father Dagrun replied.
“Yes, the good Lord is always looking for someone who is willing to do his work, no matter how small the task,” Father Donovan added. “But his workers also need rest as well as food. The tables are clear, so shall I recommend we retire for the night?”
“If only my children would clear a table like that, I’d feel like I have done my job,” Ridgeway commented. Jacob and Jessica gave their father irritated looks.
“I believe we are lucky that is not the measure of good parenting, for if it was I think most would fail. I myself would have failed in my youth, for I was never too good at cleaning up. It took my coming into the services, as it were, to become more home-minded,” Father Donovan laughed.
“I hope that over the next several days you will take time to get acquainted with the monastery and the grounds. I know Father Lemoine has made himself available for a guided tour. As I said, he is quite good at telling stories.”
“I am sure my children would love that more than anything. He will probably regret it later. These two will probably ask more questions than he can handle. But I will get started right away.” Ridgeway said.
“Of course. I understand the love of work. But since you are here, please find time to enjoy the peace offered you by our surroundings. We do enjoy a small piece of God’s wonderful world,” Father Donovan stated.
“Almost like the Garden of Eden where nothing can harm you,” Jessica chimed in.
“Ah yes, but even in the garden there was danger lurking that the unaware were vulnerable to,” Father Donovan added. “Please be careful if you venture out from the monastery. The woods have many trails that lead … nowhere.”
“Ah, well, if your father does not keep you busy then I am sure the monks will. They love visitors, even if they are a little shy at first.”
“We may have to come to you for salvation from our own dad, Father Donovan,” Jacob remarked.
“Well, if it is salvation that you are looking for, then I am just your man,” Father Donovan replied. “There it is then. Shall I escort you to your rooms or are you familiar enough with the journey?”
“I believe we won’t get lost between here and there,” Jessica said.
“Then I will lea
ve you to it. I have an early morning coming to me and my bones will need resting,” Father Donovan said.
“Good night,” Ridgeway said.
Father Donovan gave his characteristic wave as he headed off out of the dining room. The Ridgeways sat there quietly for a moment until Jacob spoke up.
“What do you think of them?”
“I think they are all really nice so far,” Jessica said.
“I think they lead more interesting lives than we know,” their father said.
They silently made their way back to their rooms, taking in the things they missed on their way to the dining room. Upon entering, they found that a fire was waiting in the central common area, and there was a pot of hot water, ready for tea.
Each of them looked at the others, as if silently saying, “How could this be any better?” What a wonderful night it had been … for all but one.
chapter SIX
SEBASTIAN WAS STILL SITTING in his bed, not knowing how long he had been in that position. His body was racked with pain and numbness. The visions were spinning around in his mind over and over. Why had his past come back so forcefully to haunt him in his dreams, the one place he always hoped he would be able to escape?
The room was dark, and Sebastian made his way through to a chair by the fireplace. The fire was low and smoldering, but it still brought some warmth and comfort.
As Sebastian sat there he worked hard to fight back the pain amidst the confusion in his head. He tried to make sense of his nightmare. Maybe it was just that: a nightmare.
Maybe this was the culmination of a tired mind making up for lost time after so many days without rest. He was trying to calm himself with that thought but the images in his head were so real. The death of his brother had beaten him down. He had spent many conversations with Father Donovan, seeking solace from his nightmares. He had relived the killing of his family in his dreams many times, but the years could not dull their intensity.
saint Sebastian the Rose Page 3