"You're saying that the Emperor gave Dracula the ring?"
"No. Let me explain. Both Dracula and his father were in the Order and both were notorious for their desire for power. After the Emperor died the Order sort of fell into disarray. The Emperor never proclaimed his successor in the Order. Dracula's father wanted to take control of the Order but was opposed by another man: John Hunyadi. He was the boy from the legend I just told you about, who was supposedly the Emperor's illegitimate child. He had grown up to be a powerful man and a member of the Order. Many thought that John, too, was seeking power. John claimed that the Emperor had appointed him to be his successor, but Dracula's father didn't buy it. He wanted control over the Order's secret. History tells us that he had John arrested. Dracula's father then went on a rampage while looking for the Emperor's key. It was around that time that the Corvinus Legend became popular. Dracula's father failed to produce the the Emperor's key and had to accept that John might have been telling the truth."
"What happened next?" I asked.
"John's allies fought to have him released. Dracula's father had no choice but to do so. After that, the two men became very bitter enemies, but John eventually won out. He had Dracula's father assassinated in the marshes near Balteni. He also ordered the brutal murder of Dracula's older brother, Mircea. John knew that Mircea shared the same desires of his father and had to be dealt with."
"So what do you think happened to the key after that?"
"Well I believe John held it for the remainder of his days. By then, most of the original members had died and their emblems were stolen, destroyed or passed on to the next. Either way, the system that the Emperor had put in place was now dead."
"So that's it? The treasure was lost?"
"Well see, now that's the funny thing," Bertók said. "Up until just now I had thought the same thing—that the treasure was long lost. But now, I'm wondering if John didn't have the treasure all along. I mean, if we tie the Corvinus Legend to the Order of the Dragon's treasure, then the Emperor had given John's mother the key—the ring—and possibly this book. Therefore, John didn't need the other emblems in order to locate the treasure; he knew where it was all along, which then leads me to believe that John Hunyadi had to have passed it along to his—ah yes!" Bertók had appeared to have an epiphany. "My God William! It was a book!"
"What?" I said while trying to keep up. "What was a book?"
"The Order of the Dragon treasure! It was a book! I had never noticed the connection before. It's so clear now! John Hunyadi passed the secret to his son, Matthias Corvinus."
"I don't understand," I said excitedly. "How do you know?"
"It was something Matthias had once said. I can't recite it verbatim but he basically proclaimed that he was given a very special book from his father when he was a young man. This book sparked an energy inside of him to learn all that he could. Matthias became obsessed with knowledge and foreign writings. He created the renowned Bibliotheca Corviniana, which contained Europe's greatest collection of secular books. The Bibliotheca Corviniana was even more impressive than the great Vatican library. It was said that Matthias was inspired to build a collection of knowledge that reached further than the Library of Alexandria. Matthias had collected historical chronicles, philosophical and scientific works as well as an impressive number of mystical codices that primarily dealt with the human mind and its metaphysical potential."
"Where is this library?"
Bertók practically leapt into the air. "I work there! But it's now called the National Széchényi Library."
Then the excitement came crashing down as the reality of the situation returned. "And that's why you're here."
Bertók's grin disappeared and he began to look around the dank cellar.
"So you think the book is located in your library?"
"Possibly, I guess," Bertók said quietly. "Although the truth of the matter is that it might not be there."
"Why not? Where else would it be? Did Matthias give it to another?"
Bertók shook his head and said: "I doubt it. The library was his crowning achievement. It was where he kept everything he valued sacred."
"He didn't reform the Order of the Dragon?"
"No. Matthias didn't see the point. You see: Dracula was in his height of power by that point. Dracula had found records left over from his father hidden in a secret vault. These records were supposedly research documents made by his father on the true nature of the power behind the Order of the Dragon, the very information that led to his desire to find the Emperor's key and overthrow John Hunyadi."
"What did they say?" I asked.
"No one knows for sure," Bertók announced regrettably, "but there is another legend, a darker legend," he said, his voice growing somber. "It's not one I like to tell often."
"What's it about?" I asked curiously.
"It's a tale of how Dracula became known as Vlad Tepes. Tepes is Romanian for Impaler."
"Vlad the Impaler?" I repeated.
Bertók nodded. "Shortly after finding the lost journals of his father, Dracula's personality turned . . . peculiar. Legend states that within those documents laid a dark and terrible secret, supposedly a secret that laid in the center foundation of the Order itself. Dracula's father had outlined a ceremony, which done properly, would bring everlasting life to its performer."
"How so?"
"It has to do with breaking the cord connecting the soul to the body. Disconnecting the cord allows the soul to leave one body and enter another."
"Like possession?"
"Yes."
"You're saying that Dracula learned how to disconnect his soul and possess another?"
Bertók took his glasses off and held them in his hand. "Look, William, I'm not trying to convince you of anything. I'm simply stating that after Dracula read the documents written by his father pertaining to this practice, his personality changed. He suddenly ordered his guards to seize all of the nobles in his territory, the ones who conspired against his father, and had them brought to the castle. There, Dracula had each one of them stripped down naked and laid out horizontally with their legs tied to two horses, one horse per leg. From there he would have a sharpened stake, freshly coated with oil, positioned in such a manner so that the tip was lined up perfectly with his or her rear end. Then they would drive the horses past the stake, pulling the victim onto the stake ever so slowly so that every sensation of pain was felt as the stake drove through their body and eventually made its way out there mouth or neck."
*******
Rebecca stopped reading. The description made her sick. She laid the d-reader face down on her lap. What horrible things, she thought. It was impossible to imagine why someone would ever want to hurt another in such a manner. It made her incredibly uneasy to think that whoever wrote the text had such ideas or possibly lived in such an unthinkable world. The images painted in her mind were terrifying. She took some time to clear her mind, to let the queasiness pass, before continuing:
*******
"Unfortunately, for the victims, this didn't necessarily mean the end for them. Many would survive for hours afterward. There are even records that tell of a few surviving for days while dangling in this manner from the poles. Dracula repeated this process over and over again until there were close to a hundred thousand men, women, and children who had paid the price for his father. It is said that he would often dine in a forest of impaled bodies while his men brought new prisoners in and began skinning them alive or tossing them into boiling cauldrons. It was said that the atrocities of a thousand tyrants couldn't match those committed by Dracula."
"And he thought he would gain eternal life?"
Bertók waved a finger. "There was something else he needed, something that his father knew was necessary but didn't have: the Order of the Dragon's treasure. Dracula became a threat to Matthias, who in return, decided to form his own internal regiment. Matthias knew he would need a group of elite warriors to help sustain his crown and to pr
otect his valuable treasure. He knew these warriors had to be strictly loyal to him. So Matthias created a new tax levy to fund the formation of this elite force of hired mercenaries that became known as The Black Army. It was the first professional army to exist in Europe since Roman times. They were known and feared all over Eastern Europe. Matthias had led them to overwhelming victories against the Ottomans and they were revered as the strongest fighting force since the time of Alexander the Great. The Black Army never lost a battle."
"But why do you think the book isn't in the library?"
"Because," Bertók said, "the Ottomans eventually sacked Budapest. It was in 1526 and long after King Matthias's death that Sultan Suleiman the Magnificent sacked the city and took control. His men raided the castle and looted everything, including this library. Almost all of the books were sent to Istanbul on the orders of Suleiman. It was one of the strangest cases of occupation in medieval history. Suleiman was very much interested in the Bibliotheca Corviniana. Some scholars believe that capturing its vast knowledge was more important than actually conquering the city. It is said that Suleiman believed the secret to Hungary's great power lay in the library built by his countries most feared warrior: King Matthias and his Black Army."
"So you're not certain then?" I asked. "The book could be in the library in Hungary or it could be in Istanbul."
"Theoretically yes," Bertók said, "but if I were a betting man, I would say it is in Istanbul."
"Why?"
"Because of Suleiman's connection with King Solomon."
"What are you talking about?"
Bertók explained: "The sultan had openly declared himself the 'Second Solomon.' His mosque, known as the Süleymaniye Mosque, was built using the same design as the Temple of Solomon."
The incredible clarity that enveloped me at that very moment was staggering. The message passed was crystal clear: the Book of Thoth had returned home. "Bertók," I said calmly, "I think you might have just solved the mystery."
"I have?"
"Yes! Don't you see it?"
Bertók placed his glasses back on his face and truly looked as if he was trying to understand.
"You just said that the Süleymaniye Mosque was built using the same design as the Temple of Solomon. If the Book of Thoth was once inside the Ark of the Covenant, which was housed inside the Temple of Solomon, then it's perfectly logical to assume that the Book of Thoth was taken to the new Temple of Solomon: Süleymaniye Mosque."
Bertók's expression froze as he contemplated what I had just said and then a giant smile formed on his face. "My God . . . I did solve it. I did! It was right in my head the entire time."
"It was."
"I just needed help getting it out. Thank you, William. You truly are a fantastic investigative journalist."
"Well . . . don't go and give me too much credit," I said, "all of this information is pointless unless our situation changes for the better."
Bertók nodded grievously and began to pace the floor.
The two of us remained silent for the following few minutes until we heard the unlocking of the cellar door.
Our captors were coming in.
The idea of ambushing them quickly crossed my mind, but it seemed Bertók saw what I was thinking and took a hold of my arm while shaking his head no.
The cellar door opened wide and standing within the frame was Gregory Hansen holding a pistol. "Hello girls," he called out and stepped inside, grinning. Behind him were two other men, both masked. "The boss wants to see you now," Hansen said.
"You mean, Dr. Theoman?" I said.
Hansen took a few steps toward me and raised his pistol. "The one and only."
*******
Rebecca stopped reading and placed the d-reader onto her lap again. There was so much to comprehend. Minister Theoman was The Collective's leader, its protector. The thought that he might be a malevolent figure was tough to accept. There were 115 Ministers before him; each upheld their duties to the realm and its people with great dignity. Outside of William's manuscript, there was no reason to believe that Theoman, the 116th Minister, was any different. Yet something was different now. Rebecca was a little less sure of things, and she began to shiver. The air was growing colder—yes—but that wasn't the reason why she was shivering. A foreboding fear had bubbled inside her belly. She decided to take a break from reading. I'm not sure if I'm ready for what's coming next.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
The StreamWay jolted and then slowed suddenly. The air was freezing. Rebecca was curled up and trembling—her breath was a thick fog of exhaust. She had stopped reading the translation hours ago and took to a feeble attempt at staying warm while trying to sleep. She knew she needed to get up, to repack her bag and get ready to leave the luggage compartment. She knew she needed to do those things, but Rebecca was immobile. Her joints felt as if ice had locked them in place. Her hands shook involuntarily. Her fingernails were a deep shade of purple. Never in her life had she been so cold.
Get up, she ordered her body. Get up and get moving.
The handlers were outside the compartment now. Rebecca could hear their mumbles through the door. It was time. She needed to get ready or else they would find her—detain her. Undoubtedly the MSF was still looking for her. Surely they had notified every station to keep a look out.
Trembling, Rebecca pulled the spare clothes from her body. Little bits of frost cracked and splintered as the stiffness of the outfits were bent beyond their desire. They were like cardboard. She bent them in folding motions and slowly slid them into her bag. Her legs creaked like an old wooden ship as she extended them as far as allowed in the tiny space. Her hip joints ached with tired frustration.
Get up, she ordered them again.
Outside a bell rang followed by the collective hissing sounds of doors sliding open. The luggage compartment door hissed too and slid open. The ice built up in all the cracks of the door jams cried and shattered as the compartment opened freely. Immediately the tight space filled with the deep sounds of the station. A roar of voices, the clambering of feet and the clanging of luggage being tossed from the compartment to the carts.
It didn't take long for the bags in front of Rebecca to be freed and her cover to be lifted. She had managed to prepare herself for the escape but walking had turned out to be a dubious activity for her frozen body. As the last bag in front of her was moved from its place, Rebecca tried to walk but her hip flexors weren't working like normal. She took too long of a stride and lost her balance, tumbling forward and into the arms of a much surprised handler. "What in the Minister's name?" he yelped with shock.
Rebecca tried to regain her balance but couldn't prevent herself from sliding to the ground. "Excuse me . . . I'm sorry," was all she could say.
The handler took Rebecca by the elbow and pulled her up. "Ma'am, have you been in the luggage compartment the entire time?"
"It was an accident," chattered Rebecca. "I really have to use the restroom."
The handler looked beside himself. "Yeah, okay. I bet you do. I'll help you over there."
"I can make it on my own," Rebecca insisted and then took a couple of wobbly steps.
"I have to accompany you, Ma'am. We'll need to go to the security center in order to file an accident report." Several other handlers joined them, each wondering what the situation was. "She was stuck in the luggage compartment," informed the handler.
"Are you kidding me?" said another. "The entire time?"
Rebecca nervously waved the handlers off. "It was an accident. A simple mistake. No one needs to file a report. I just have to use the restroom."
Another handler in the group eyed her suspiciously and then whispered something to the man next to him. Rebecca didn't like the attention. She needed to get out of there immediately.
"Hold on, Ma'am," said the one who helped her up.
Rebecca felt her frozen joints loosen slightly and was able to walk faster. She didn't look back. She kept walking as fast as she could,
which wasn't very quickly.
"I'm sorry, Ma'am, I have to come," he called out again.
Run damnit. Rebecca pushed her legs harder and harder.
"Wait!" the handler called out. "I'll have to call security!"
Rebecca knew it didn't matter. Security would get called one way or another. She just needed to keep moving. She needed to run.
The crowd of people streaming on and off the StreamWay provided ample cover for her. Rebecca blended in with the crowd and changed direction a couple of times in order to throw the handler off her trail. The station was quite warm in comparison to the compartment. Rebecca didn't know if it was because there were heaters all over the place or if it was due to the sheer volume of human bodies. Either reason was welcomed. The heat helped mobilize her previously stiffened limbs.
The Southern Point station was almost exactly like the one she had come from. There were restaurants opened to the passengers and lifts transporting people to the top level. Rebecca wanted to use one of the lifts but couldn't risk the exposure. She found the stairwell in the same spot as the previous station and grudgingly started to climb them. If her theory proved correct, Rebecca would have to climb up twenty flights of stairs before reaching the top level.
It turned out to be eighteen.
On the top floor, there were MSF agents everywhere. It made sense too, even though Rebecca had not considered them before. The Southern Point was the furthest outpost of The Collective. Beyond it was what was known as the Vriezen, which was land considered uninhabitable by the Ministry. The Vriezen consisted of ice glaciers and rock—too inhospitable to sustain human life, or so the Ministry thought. It had been widely theorized that the Heretique had migrated to those regions despite the brutality of the cold. Rebecca had always considered those theories to be nothing more than conspiracy rubbish until her mother's confession. But even so, Rebecca couldn't believe she was actually there at the Southern Point. As for the MSF agents being everywhere, the Vriezen was considered the only safe haven for members of The Collective who were wanted by Ministry Security. They had all bought into the fairytale land that harbored criminals. And apparently so have I, Rebecca thought. It was what made the Southern Point StreamWay station a hot spot for MSF agents.
The Sinner King: Book of Fire Page 25