The Jealous God Page 16

  Simeon’s entire troop had joined Greta and the others on the bowling green. The dark-haired girl was kicking the soccer ball toward Vanni and Selwig. Mark chuckled as the Tuathan ducked behind his taller companion when the ball whizzed past them.

  “Have you seen Bari Caleb?” Lucio called down to him from the balcony.

  “I have. Why?” Mark turned to look up at him.

  “I had thought Omar would be joining us. He is not coming?”

  “He will be here. He had business in New Babylon. General Watkins’ court martial. A very sad affair, that.”

  Lucio tossed his bags in his room and then hurried back down the stairs to join him at the door. He noticed a number of Paddy's pipes in an elaborate pipe stand on a table by the door. A selection of tobaccos in ceramic jars and a large box of matches offered visitors a choice of smokes.

  "Smoke?" Mark offered and Lucio shook his head.

  “Yes, very sad. What will he do with this general? He seems to have very bad luck with them.” Lucio frowned out across the sunny courtyard.

  “He will most likely sentence him to the stockade for a long, long time.”

  “Hmmm. Prison. Nothing like a long prison term to change a man’s heart or a woman’s,” Lucio mused. “I want to clean up a bit and then I will go up and see her. The sooner, the better. I hope it will not be a problem for you?”

  “No. Go ahead and get yourself hung again,” Mark told him. “They say the third time is the charm. But if you learn anything useful or relevant to the business at hand, I should hope you will have the good sense to inform me.”

  “I will tell you all about it. I promise.” Lucio smiled and the scar crinkled on his face.

  Mark nodded and decided to forego the pleasure of the company of anyone else.

  “I’m going upstairs. I’ll be in my room for a spell.”

  Mark left the Golden Eagle by the doors.

  The Italian stood watching the children playing on the lawn for a short while before following Mark Andrew up the stairs, trying desperately to control the urge to run up the steps.

  Inside his room, Lucio dumped the contents his bags on the bed and then did run into the bathroom to check his face. He was flushed and almost hyperventilating from the strain of the conversation with Mark Andrew. He had not expected the Chevalier du Morte to practically encourage him to visit Catharine, but things had changed, apparently. However, the announcement Mark would be going with him had made him weak-kneed.

  He ran his fingers through his curly hair and grimaced at his reflection, wrinkling the scar on his cheek. He suddenly realized he had missed the scar he had carried for almost nine centuries when it had disappeared for a short time. It seemed it belonged there, but what his son Galen had told him, had made him feel a bit guilty. Galen was actually proud of the scar that was developing quite ‘nicely’ on his face after his encounter with Catharine’s brother’s emissaries. Now he understood what Galen had meant and he crossed himself at the thought of adding another petty sin of vanity to his long collection. He smiled at himself and then affected a very somber expression.

  “Good afternoon, Miss de Goth,” he said in his most professionally detached voice and then shook his head. Too cold.

  “Hello, Catharine,” he tried something a bit more cordial and shook his head again, too friendly.

  “Miss de Goth, a pleasure to see you again and looking so well,” He stepped back and bowed slightly. Probably not. She might not look well at all. She had been living up there in that strange, dark place for several weeks now. She might look… quite ill. No. That would not be possible.

  “Good afternoon, Mademoiselle,” he tried a neutral tone. “I received your letter… I have been anxiously… no, looking forward to speaking with you… no, I have been considering your letter.”

  The Golden Eagle frowned. “Dammit!” He ran his fingers through his hair again and checked his teeth. He rushed back to the bedroom, grabbed his shaving kit and went back to brush his teeth, shave and comb his hair. He put on a generous splash of his favorite cologne and smiled at himself again.

  “What are you? An idiot?” he asked his reflection. “Si`! You are a complete idiot, Signor. She is not the Oracle of Delphi. She is simply a woman like any other woman. And who are you trying to fool? You have never known any other woman of her caliber. They are always special. Special. This one was very, very special…”

  He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath before leaving his room and heading directly for the stairs leading to the roof.

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  Simon walked down the road toward the gate with three of his sons in tow and Oriel. His son, Levi, had just appeared inside the bailey with the enigmatic young lady on his arm. He carried a bag in each hand, one under his arm, another slung over his back and wore a great smile on his face.

  Izzy and Zeb passed their father and hurried to greet their ‘little’ brother, hugging him as he spilled his bags on the road. He returned their riotous embraces and then blushed deeply as he introduced them to a beautiful blond girl. She shook their hands and returned their smiles. Simon, who had continued on at more dignified pace, drew a sharp breath. She looked extremely familiar. Izzy and Zeb hoisted the bags Levi had dropped and walked along behind their brother and his guest, whispering and giggling together like schoolboys, causing their younger brother to glance back at them suspiciously.

  “Father! I have missed you,” Levi said as he picked up his pace along the last few steps and embraced his small father warmly, kissing him on both cheeks.

  “You've grown!” Simon laughed and disengaged his son and turned to face the girl, still smiling.

  “Father, this is Menaka.” He nodded to her and Simon took her hand, kissing it lightly.

  “Menaka, my father, Simon d’Ornan.” Levi took her arm again and Simon looked up at him. His son was in love.

  “A genuine pleasure to meet you, Mademoiselle.”

  “Your son tells wonderful stories about you. He is very proud of you. Of all of you.” Menaka bowed her head slightly to the healer. “It is an honor to meet James’ family.”

  “And this is my sister,” Levi said as he presented her to Oriel. “Oriel Champlain, but we call her Orri.”

  “A beautiful name for a beautiful lady.” Menaka shook Oriel’s hand and Oriel blushed at her praise.

  “And yours is quite unusual as well,” Oriel said shyly. There was something very familiar about her and something that made her nervous.

  “It means celestial damsel,” Levi supplied this trivia with a twinkle in his eye.

  “Your son is truly a wonder, Mr. d’Ornan.” She returned her attention to Simon. “I have never heard anyone display more pride in his family than James, but you look far too young to be his father!”

  “Thank you,” Simon said. “I am told that quite often.”

  “He takes many vitamins!” Levi told her lightly and then laughed. “He is much older than he looks.”

  “Father has to take vitamins because Levi pushes us all away from the table,” Izzy told her as he caught up with them. He emphasized Levi’s first name. “That is why the rest of us are so small.”

  “Pay no attention to him, Menaka.” Levi continued up the road, walking beside his father. “I eat like a bird.”

  “A vulture!” Zebulon said as he passed them and caught up with Izzy.

  “Brothers.” Levi smiled ruefully. “I have missed them so.”

  “They miss you,” Simon said softly. “And I miss you.”

  “But that makes it all the better when we see each other.” Levi glanced at his father unsure what his tone might mean.

  “It must be wonderful to have such a large family.” Menaka leaned around her escort to look at Simon. “I wouldn’t know what to do with so many people under one roof.”

  “They find their own place,” Simon answered her and narrowed his eyes at her. “You look very familiar, Miss….?” He raised both eyebrows, waiting for the l
ast name.

  “Call me Menaka, please.” She drew back. “I have one of those faces. Everyone says that. Even James said when we first met. I’m used to it.”

  “I’m sure,” Simon muttered. He wondered why his son had used his second name for the girl and wanted to ask him why, but it would have to wait. “Ah, here we go.” They were approaching the barbecue pit where everyone else stood waiting to meet Levi’s mystery lady.

  Louis caught Simon’s eye and winked at him knowingly. He had a sizable bet going with Reuben and Philip. Levi’s older brothers were convinced Levi could not possibly be in love with a girl. Levi had always teased them cruelly when they had been mooning over this girl or that girl when they had been younger. They had obviously lost their bets.

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  Lucio tapped on the imposing old doors of the chapel. He felt like a fool already. He’d never knocked at the door of a church before. The words of an ancient song popped into this mind. Something about living in a church with voodoo dolls. He almost turned and ran back to the steps leading up and over the parapet. Steeling himself once more, he raised his hand again, intending to knock louder, but the door opened slowly and he stood holding his fist in front of him as if frozen.

  Catharine stood in the shadows, blinking at him; the bright sunlight silhouetting his frame apparently hurting her eyes.

  “Sir Dambretti?” she asked and he lowered his hand quickly.

  “Yes. It is. Me. Sir Dambretti… Lucio.” Everything dissolved at the sight of her face.

  “Please come in.” She stepped back and he stepped inside the dim chapel. The glow of many candles lit the far end of the transept and the smell of incense lay heavily in the air. Smoke drifted in thin blue layers high in the high ceiling.

  She seemed to glide along the black marble floor through the center of the empty sanctuary. Her floor length white gown enhanced her ghostly form and his boots echoed in the arches above their head. She skirted the altar and pulpit and led him into the apse. He reached twice for the hilt of his sword that was not present before they reached the altar and tried to take off the hat he was not wearing. The atmosphere and her presence sent him back at least four hundred years.

  Her living arrangements surprised him. Very spare. Much like the nuns he remembered from long ago. This would never do. She pulled out the chair, the only chair and held out her hand.

  “Please sit down.”

  Lucio looked around. There was no where for her to sit.

  “I couldn’t… I mean…” He frowned and actually twisted his hands together nervously. If he had been wearing a hat, he would have ruined it.

  “I’ll sit on the mattress.” She smiled. “Do not worry yourself, Sir Dambretti. I am quite happy here.” She backed away from him and folded herself down on the mattress on the floor. A soft blanket of dark blue wool covered the mattress and she looked like she might be posing for a portrait as she leaned on one hand and coiled her feet under her. He sat down stiffly in the simple, ladder-back chair.

  “I received your letter,” he told her simply.

  “I didn’t expect you to come," she said. “After a while, I thought it was unlikely they delivered it to you, but Mrs. d’Ornan is very sympathetic to my plight here. Of course, she did not know the content, or else she would never have arranged for the delivery.”

  “She is a good girl,” Lucio agreed. He had always liked Joey Spelle in spite of everything that had happened.

  “She was married to Simon of Grenoble for a short time, I believe,” Catharine said and frowned slightly. “She would have been my daughter-in-law, but she is now my granddaughter-in-law. Strange, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. Quite,” he agreed and fell silent. He still could not believe this was Simon’s mother.

  “I know what you must think of me, Sir.” She looked away from him. “I am sorry if this is… difficult for you. I never meant to mislead or deceive you.”

  “No!” He shook his head. “Not at all. I was… I have been… It was quite difficult arranging to come here, true. I’m afraid I had to bring most of the company with me.”

  “I see. And what did they think of my letter?” She turned her blue eyes on him again.

  “They know nothing of the letter,” Lucio told her. “I do not have to share everything with them. I am my own man.”

  “I understand you were… punished for your… sin with me.” Her face changed subtly and he thought she would cry.

  “No!” he lied outright. “I was… counseled. Not punished. No!”

  “Oh. I am terribly sorry about what happened to you in Lothian. It was most… terrible.”

  “Don’t mention that… please.” He looked about and licked his lips nervously. This was much, much worse than he had expected.

  “I’m sorry.” She got up again and began to rummage about in a large basket by her desk. “I have some wine if you would like a cup.”

  “Yes! Please.” He nodded and she found a cup for him.

  She brought the cup and when he took it, he wrapped his hands over hers.

  “Catharine!” He looked into her startled eyes. “I don’t know what to say. I will be honest with you. I really don’t know what to say. Are you sure you are happy here…? I mean, you can’t be happy here. This is outrageous! I can try to make some arrangements… possibly, better quarters or better furnishings… something… anything?”

  “I’m perfectly fine.” She pulled her hand from his and returned the bottle to the basket before sitting down again.

  “I have thought of you often,” he told her and turned up the wine. “I didn’t understand anything. I still don’t.”

  “It is no matter.” She looked up at the high ceiling and then brushed away a tear. “It was necessary.”

  “What was necessary?” He frowned at her.

  “What we did. It was destined by God.”

  “How so?”

  “I saw it in a vision… many times. I knew who you were the moment I saw you. And you have seen it as well,” she told him. “I knew one day you would come. I must say I didn’t expect you when you arrived. I was taken quite off guard, but I am glad none-the-less you came when you did. For better or worse, whatever happens now is in His hands.”

  “Whose hands?” Lucio was a bit confused.

  “God’s hands,” she laughed softly. “Surely you don’t think He has preserved me all these years and brought me down all these roads for nothing. And I may say the same for you.”

  “But… are you a seeress? A prophetess, perhaps? I don’t understand. I’m sorry. A great many things have happened since I met you in Budapest. My head spins almost constantly. I never understood why Sir Ramsay hunted you and your brother for years and when he finally found you, he let you go. He didn’t tell me why.”

  “That is because he is ambivalent. My brother told him something I think even the inestimable Knight of Death did not know. He is trying to decide what to do, but I am tired of waiting. If he decides to kill me, he will and I will be readily available to him. If not, then we will see our destiny unfold.”

  “You say you knew me from the beginning? How so?” Lucio sipped the wine against the impulse to drink it all down at once.

  “I have been seeing you in my visions for many years.”

  “And what are these visions? What are they like?”

  “I see you as a great king. The people come out every morning to greet you on the steps of your palace. And every day, you go out to greet the sun. They travel from great distances just to see you. To pay homage to you. To receive comfort from your presence. To know you are their protector. Their light in the darkness. You know this vision. You have seen it yourself.”

  “And in this dream… vision. Is it Egyptian?” He shuddered as he remembered the weird dream he’d had of the priests and the palace and Catharine and the shock… Furthermore, he had actually performed the ceremony in a painfully literal sense when the underworld had needed light. He had provided light
for Il Dolce Mio’s kingdom with his own blood. The thought of it made him giddy. One thing he had never considered was he might be responsible for the welfare of entire kingdoms.

  “Not Egyptian, Babylonian would more closely describe it, but it is neither and both. It is a vision of the future after the awakening.”

  “The awakening?” He frowned. “Are you in this vision with me?”

  “I am your queen," she said. “Each morning you must greet the sun as well as your subjects. They are simple creatures, trusting and loving. Not like the people of this age. They adore their king and he adores them, and cherishes them, and takes care of them. He is their Savior and their benefactor, their High Priest and their link to God. You really must think I am insane.” She looked down at the floor.

  “No. No. Not at all!” He shook his head. This was what he had seen as well in the bizarre dreams.

  “But this is not why you are here.” She looked down at her hands in her lap. “You are here because of the letter.”

  “Yes. I came to see if you need my help as you said.”

  “I am afraid of the one who calls himself Isaac or Joel or Bari. He has come here several times. He wants the Sangreal.”

  “The Sangreal?” Lucio’s eyes widened.

  “The blood."

  “Why? I mean he is only a boy! What would he know of the Sangreal?”

  “He is not a boy. He is Omar Kadif’s son. I know who he is. I am not sure what he is.”

  “He is very ambitious. I know that,” Lucio told her. “He has been exiled to the island by mutual consent of his father and the Grand Master for having tried to bring about Omar's downfall. He caused him to be shot and arrested by lying about him. There are other things at work there, but no one has told me the entire story. It happened about the time you were in Scotland. Sir Ramsay had to go to New Babylon to straighten it all out. It was quite a mess, I understand, and I also understand Omar has disowned him more or less.”

  “I heard a bit about it from Mrs. d’Ornan. I asked her about Isaac and made her think he had revealed his true identity to me.”