Guardian of the Stone

by Amity Grays

  The rope pulled, indicating Graham had reached the bottom of the steps and was ready to descend into the cave.

  “Hold tight,” Elliot instructed. A few seconds later the rope tugged again.

  They all took deep breaths and exchanged encouraging nods.

  One by one, their small party descended down into the cave. By the time Edeline was allowed to join them, they were already busy securing the area and blocking off the crevice leading to the passage.

  Shadows danced up and around stone as the small army of flashlights stuck to heads, dangling from limbs and moving sporadically in hands met, merged and departed along the cave’s jaunting walls. Although nothing as surreal as the figures which ran and cried along the walls in her dream, the vision was still unnerving.

  Moving closer to Dane, she took his hand in hers. “You won’t leave me?”

  The smile which touched his lips was warmed by the affection which shined in his eyes. “Never.”

  Elliot stepped away from the back crevice and joined them. “The entry to the cavern is secure. No one’s getting in.”

  “Will it withstand an explosion?” Federic asked, helping Father Richard as he made the drop from the stairwell down into the cavern.

  Elliot looked back toward the sealed entrance and grimaced. “Not a direct one. We need to get this done and get out of here before whatever luck it is that’s been carrying us decides to run out.”

  “Moving,” Graham said, once more taking the lead.

  Slowly they made their way through the winding passage. It was cold, damp and dark despite the artificial lighting bouncing off the walls.

  Edeline moved closely behind Dane, following his lead as he stepped over and around the scattered rock formations rising as though out of nowhere from the cave’s floor. Moisture dripped from the multiple cracks in the rock ceiling above, inevitably landing on their heads and falling down their backs. At points along the passage, it could be seen running like a leaking faucet down the stone’s rugged sides. Her clothes hung wet and uncomfortable against her skin as the journey began to take its toll on her tired limbs. It hadn’t seemed so far in her dream.

  The path twisted yet again, and once again Elliot signaled to his men to take the next turn. A handful at a time they disappeared around the corner, their swords held ready in their hands. Swords, Dane had explained, required greater skill and closer proximity than guns, but they held one distinct advantage—their strike could be controlled. In surroundings such as this, bullets carried the very real threat of ricochet.

  The last group of men came back and nodded for them to follow. Once again they began to move. Like the wary tiptoeing past the gates of hell, they made their way through the dimly lit passage and into the deep chambers of the unknown.

  They were nearing the end of the passage when a cold chill, born not of the elements but of something far more sinister, rolled into their path. It came out of nowhere as though exhaled from the invisible souls of the undead.

  It rang the first warning.

  Second to chime were the howls of the damned, tearing through the tunnels and halting the knights in their tracks.

  As lights flashed instantly down the cavern walls, the stone they’d thought was their cover, crumbled and changed to the form of faces, bodies and swords. From the granite walls, a dark army emerged.

  The sound of swords being drawn echoed in circles around her. Soon the cries of one were followed by the shouts of another, then another and yet another.

  The surprise belonged to the enemy—an advantage the Dogs, by their numbers, did not appear to need.

  As the knights drew together to form a circle, Dane wrapped his arm around her to move her into its center, protecting her with a massive wall of might. Her father, Dane and at least a dozen others stood as shields around her, waiting for the charge—a charge sure to come with a wrath brewed through centuries.

  And so they came—wave after wave of merciless heathens hell-bent on hell itself. Though they wore the flesh of men, they carried the souls of demons—beasts determined to see the spoils of victory and eager to see the blood of the righteous spread before the very cavern they were duty-bound to protect.

  Swords flying and cries rumbling—the frightening face of battle emerged from every angle. As metal clashed with metal and bodies rose and fell, she could do nothing but watch. Her safety was her prison, and those whom she loved, stood as her bars.

  The clanging of swords resounded like bells off the walls of stone. Soon the bright flashes of silver faded to dull under dark coatings of red. Blood fell like rain, wet but warm against her skin.

  She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but nothing could have prepared her for what it was. Good and evil, death and survival—they were writing their story right before her eyes. Echoing life, their tales were grim and their destiny uncertain, but their point was unquestionably clear.

  These two worlds had been combined on Earth so that both could see clearly they could never unite. Earth was the learning ground between Heaven and Hell, where both were allowed to roam free until a victor was claimed. And here, in the darkness of an underworld unknown to those above, one side would take the lead.

  Though it was hard to tell for certain, it seemed the knights fared well, for the faces of their foe came steady and swift, but none flashed but once before her eyes. The knights stood well in the light of their legend. Remarkable skill and unyielding courage lied as the foundation for each and every one.

  She had to remind herself to breathe as whatever protection her guardians had once had was quickly drawn away and they, too, were forced to step directly into the fight. She watched with horror as her father was attacked from two directions. But with amazing speed and agility, he moved his sword to disarm the first, quickly pulling the man into the other’s sword.

  A large blade plummeted down toward Dane. Turning and dropping to one knee, he avoided the piercing and plunged his own sword deep into his assailant’s chest.

  To his side, a beaten face with a crooked jaw and frightening snarl emerged. The man’s gaze locked with hers. Ducking beneath what was left of the small circle of warriors, he reached inside to grab her. A bloodied sword flew down from the circle, severing the hand only inches from her arm.

  Closing her eyes, Edeline shrank back further toward the ground, feeling sick, terrified and worst of all—useless.

  Unable to bear not knowing, she quickly reopened her eyes.

  The man had disappeared but the hand remained, an unsoiled silver knife clenched in its fist which now lay at her feet. Her gaze circled her surroundings and the war that raged. Deep inside her soul, courage took breath. Pulling the knife from the severed hand, she rose to her feet.

  No more would she cower.

  The daughter of warriors and a woman of faith, in a life much blessed, she had been given but one task. In order to see it through, she needed to stay alive.

  From the corner of his eye, Dane spotted the man slithering toward the ground and past their protective cover. With a hardy yank, he managed to pull his sword from the entrails of another, raising it high and swinging down low to effectively sever the man’s hand from its intent.

  The monster’s proximity to his beloved shook him badly and distracted him long enough to allow another to get too close. The sharp piercing end of a blade came directly at his throat. With no time to either move or strike, he simply acknowledged the inevitable and waited for the sting.

  An anguished cry sounded to his side as Edeline flew past him and directly into his attacker. The sword may as well have done its damage, for his heart stopped nonetheless as he watched his true-love take on his fate.

  But when the two forms parted, it wasn’t Edeline who fell. And when she stepped back, she didn’t step behind their protective circle, she moved to join it.

  Determined to protect her, he stepped back into the fight…but the fight had vanished. The next wave of faces he saw were those of his comrades. Covered in blood and
sweat, they too searched the room for any foe that might remain.

  “Is that it?” Federic asked, still posed to do battle.

  “Check the walls,” Elliot ordered. “Make sure no more are hiding.”

  The men raised their lights, some searching the walls while others ran down the passage. Only seconds later, they had all returned.

  “It’s clear,” Graham said, arriving back with the others.

  Father Richard scanned the floors, shaking his head at the ugliness of it all. “Who are these lost souls?”

  “Thankfully not ours,” Elliot said, looking back to his men and assessing their injuries. “We’ve been blessed this round.”

  “Let’s hope the blessings continue,” Dane said, pulling Edeline into his arms. “I’m ready to get this thing over with.”

  Federic laid his hand on Dane’s shoulder. “We all are, son.”

  Graham nodded over his shoulder toward the passageway where he’d just been. “There’s not a lot left to it. There’s a small empty cavern at the end, and that’s it.”

  “Let’s hope it’s what we’re searching for,” Elliot said, looking back down toward the dead lying at his feet. “I’m certain there are more of their kind scattered throughout the cave. If they heard the skirmish or received any kind of warning, then surely they’re on their way.”

  Graham wiped his blade against his already soiled jeans. “We’ll be ready.”

  “Luck rarely holds when paired with futility,” Elliot advised. “If they’re coming, they’re coming in numbers not even we can hold.”

  “So what do we do?”

  “If the cavern fails to produce, we need to leave and leave quickly.”

  “Then we’d best get started,” Father Richard said.

  Federic looked once more around the floor. “I could do with a change of scenery,” he said, starting them all moving by stepping past Graham and down the dark corridor.

  It wasn’t what she’d expected—the empty walls no more spectacular than any other. In her dream, she couldn’t see much, but she was certain the walls had glistened. These walls were dull. Not even the moisture dripping through their cracks added sparkle to their dim.

  The men scattered around the room, checking crevices and pushing against stone.

  “I don’t see anything,” one of the knights said, having already circled the cavern.

  “That’s because you need better lighting.” Elliot reached inside his pocket and pulled out the stone. He stepped across the room to Edeline and placed it around her neck.

  It fell against her chest and instantly began to glow, spreading its warmth and its light like a burst of sunlight boldly stepping out from behind a dark cloud. From nowhere that made any kind of sense, a soft breeze began to blow, picking up the stone’s radiance and tossing it against the somber walls, changing their drab demeanor into a striking and glimmering mass.

  The breeze picked up its force, swirling dust throughout the cavern. The walls began to shake, and from their rumbles, voices emerged—cries of glory, hope and promise mixed with the tales of countless woes.

  With the beating of the wind, the walls transformed, shedding their guise to reveal their true form. Upon their face, emerged a cross as tall as the cavern and as wide as its end.

  “Look, there in its center,” Graham said, pointing to the cross.

  And there it was—a simple holder no less ordinary than the stone without its guardian and made of the same common marble.

  “Are you ready, Edeline?” Father Richard asked, holding out his hand for hers.

  Looking first toward Dane and then to her father, and receiving affirmative nods from both, she placed her hand in the priest’s and moved with him toward the back wall.

  It was exactly what she had wanted, so why it now seemed so hard, was impossible to fathom. But without question, a part of her was reluctant to let the stone go.

  “It’s a great responsibility you were given,” Father Richard said as they stood before the cradle. “Such tasks are often the hardest to surrender.”

  “I want my life back.” Her hand trembled in his as she looked down. “But it was a gift.”

  “They would understand, Edeline. It was not the stone they gifted you. It was the world it protected. Now it is time to exchange the one for the other.”

  The truth of his words was the path to her freedom. Lifting the stone from around her neck, she placed it into the cradle. Over her hand, was placed the hand of a pure and honest soul.

  The wind stopped and an even brighter light swept from the stone, down the cradle and out onto the walls. Nothing it touched was left as it had been. The cradle turned to gold as did the cross which held it. Odd drawings and writings appeared on the walls. The voices which lingered faded to whispers which read from the script now lining the cavern.

  Inside the cradle, the priest’s hand squeezed hers. When she looked his way, he was reading the walls, tears filling his eyes.

  “What does it say?”

  “It says it is not darkness which rids the light, but rather light which rids the darkness.”

  “Is it talking about the war?”

  “It’s talking about eternity,” he said, still scanning the script. “These walls tell not of an end, only a passage. I have a feeling the end is still being written. Fate is, as it always has been, held in the hands of man.”

  “There’s a passage,” Elliot said, squeezing through a narrow crevice now revealed behind the cross. Federic, Father Tom and several of the knights followed.

  Dane stepped to Edeline’s side and held out his hand. “I believe you have a right to know what it is you’ve been protecting.”

  She looked to Father Richard.

  “You can go,” he assured.

  Turning her hand inside the cradle, she opened her palm, handing the priest the stone. As it left her hand, her body cooled.

  Eyes closed, the priest sighed. “Ah, I wondered if I’d feel different.”

  “Thank you,” she said, the feelings inside her hard to describe. She felt as though she could cry, but she wasn’t exactly sure if it was sadness or relief.

  The priest smiled. “You’re welcome, Edeline.” He nodded behind her. “You should hurry.”

  She moved with Dane through the crevice and into a wider cavern glistening with silver and gold. Mounds and mounds of treasure lined the walls. Numerous chests decorated with gems sat throughout the room filled with what she wasn’t certain. Gold and silver coins, candlesticks, silver swords, jewels, golden images, cups and plates were piled everywhere—the assortment seemed endless.

  “There’s…so much,” she said, making a circle.

  Father Tom ran his hand down the spine of a gold-trimmed ledger—one of several sitting amongst the riches. He looked back to Elliot and smiled. “Do you see the resemblance?”

  “They look like the one our father found.”

  “We should hurry,” Dane reminded.

  Elliot sighed. “He’s right, as much as I know we’d all love to explore and see what treasures lie beneath, we can’t. We can’t afford the time.”

  As the last man stepped back out into the first cavern, Dane stopped and looked back. “What about the priest’s vision—what about the weapons which were to be found on the cavern’s floor?”

  Father Richard smiled. “Our greatest weapon stands upon these floors, but it’s not the treasure we protect. It’s what protects the treasure.” He looked into the face of each soul standing. “Courage is our greatest weapon. It and our faith will be what wins the war.”

  “To courage,” said Graham, raising his sword. “To faith,” replied Federic setting his sword to Graham’s.

  A chorus of cheers echoed around the cavern.

  Wrapping his hand tight around the stone, Father Richard removed it from the cradle. Instantly the cavern transformed to stone. No more did the cradle sparkle. No more did the walls glow.

  The secrets of the Knights Templar once again lay hidden behind th
e guard of a simple stone.

  Edeline watched as Federic paced the floor in front of her, flipping his watch every so often and grunting his impatience.

  “Why don’t you sit down, Dad? Visit with me. It will make the time go faster.”

  He flipped his watch once more to check the time and then looked back out the window. His shoulders slumped. “Perhaps I should try something different.”

  The sound of approaching vehicles hummed into the quiet of the outside.

  “They’re back,” said Federic, running right past her and straight for the stairs.

  Edeline followed behind him.

  Stepping out of the castle, they were met with a succession of slamming doors. No less than twelve vehicles lined the drive. Dane and Father Tom were the first to reach them. Their smiles laid the first clue.

  “You were successful?” Federic asked.

  Father Tom beamed. “It couldn’t have gone better.”

  “We found their entrance,” Elliot said, coming up behind his brother. “It was actually quite clever—a boathouse just a few miles down from the cave’s opening. They went in from under the water. That’s why we never heard them.”

  “They had to have been working on it for years,” Father Tom added.

  Elliot nodded. “They’ve certainly shown their patience. It’s a strength we will from here on after give due credit.”

  “Did they get away?” Edeline asked.

  “Not a one. They must not have been given warning. They all seemed plenty surprised. Once the opening was cleared, the men we already had in place were able to make their move, storming the passages from every direction but the one they were expecting. They didn’t even try to fight, they merely made a run for it—right back out through the boathouse and into our custody. We took in huge numbers. Many are already talking.”

  Father Tom took Edeline’s hand into his. “It will cripple their order for years to come.”