The Dove (39 page)

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Authors: Brendan Carroll

BOOK: The Dove
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Mark had tried to explain things to him, but he was not listening.  He had opted to reside, at least temporarily in Il Dolce Mio’s elven encampment and the relative safety afforded by the considerate indifference of the elves to his disenfranchised state of mind.  They still saw him as a valiant warrior and hero and brother of their King, calling him Prince Luke and Royal Brother.  Vanni had many friends among the elves as well, but Sophia and Mark seemed to have no real place… anywhere. 

Mark insisted that neither Luke, nor Lemarik, nor Il Dolce Mio were his sons and clung to Sophia’s side in confusion, when Luke tried to talk to him about the past.  Lemarik and the elven King readily differentiated between the two, accepting one as their father and the other as a virtual stranger, but Luke was unconvinced.  He equated this secondary figure of his father with King Ramsay of the Center, and he based his opinion on some of the things that he said from time to time.  Luke was convinced that this embodiment knew much more than he let on, and Sophia was unable to explain to him how her so-called ‘baby’ could have such an extensive knowledge of the Holy Scriptures so soon.

Lucio, on the other hand, was appalled to find two Marks among them and avoided the second one completely.  There was no doubt in his mind who was who, and though he wanted to ask this one about Andrea, he didn’t dare.  Luke Matthew seemed unwilling to admit that the second one even existed, but readily offered the one at the table a home in London.  It was a problem that had to be worked out sooner or later.  Lucio recognized his own feelings and confusion mirrored in Luke Matthew’s words and actions.  They would have to do something about Sophia’s Mark.  He was a stranger to them
.  All of them
and seemingly even to himself.

“It has to do with the comet.”  Mark Andrew continued when he had everyone’s attention.  “I have been to the north and studied this cosmic event by way of the old methods.  There is an unseen companion.”

“The astronomers say it will not return.”  Luke Matthew told him.  “We were all relieved to hear it.”

“And so it is true.”  Mark nodded.  “But the unseen companion is the problem.  It is not nearly as large as the first one, the one we have all seen with our own eyes, but it is big enough to cause massive changes on the surface of this world.  In less than twenty days it will strike the earth.”

His simple announcement caused a deep silence in the tent.

“Where?”  D’Brouchart asked finally.

“Most likely in the Pacific.”  Mark told them.  “I can’t be sure.  It will depend on how it breaks down once it strikes the atmosphere.”

“The Pacific?”  Lemarik frowned at his father.  “And will it cause much destruction?”

“Much.”

“Then I must return home at once.”  The mighty Djinni gathered his robe about him.

“Where is home?”  Il Dolce Mio asked him as he headed for the tent flap.

“My people are waiting for me east of Cathay.”  Lemarik told him over his shoulder, and then was gone.

“Japan.”  Konrad nodded.  “We had heard that he had settled in Japan.”  The remark drifted in the silence which lasted until the sound of the Djinni’s horse’s hooves had completely died away.

“What do you suggest we do, Sir Ramsay?”  D’Brouchart broke the silence again.

“There is nothing to be done.  I simply wanted you all to know.  I suggest that you continue on with your plans to take the Ark to Mount Horeb.  If we can destroy it, perhaps the Old One’s hold on this world will be broken.”

“And what of New Babylon?”

“Leave it to Omar.  I will do what I can for him.”

“And what of… what do you… what of Sophia?”  Lucio asked him, referring not to Sophia, but her companion.

“When I am done in New Babylon, I will not be back.”  Mark told him evenly.  “Take them home to Scotland… both of them, if you have a chance, Brother.  He deserves a life as much as any of us.”

“You can’t be serious!”  Luke Matthew objected.  “What do you mean, you won’t be back?  Where will
you
go?  What will
we
do?”

“There are many people and many places, Luke.”  Mark Andrew stood up.  “My time here is well past.  Embrace your brother as you have embraced me.  He will need your help as you have needed mine.”

“He is… that is…  I can’t do that!”  Luke shook his head.

“He is your brother, and now, you will be your brother’s keeper.”  Mark smiled at him.

Barry signaled the meeting adjourned for four hours in order for the various factions to regroup and make camp for the night.  They would meet again after supper to discuss their next step.

The tent began to empty as the remaining members of the council filed out into the night.  As soon as the last of them had filed out, Luke threw himself at his brother’s feet and grabbed him about the knees.

“You can’t leave me!  I have never been far from you.”  The King wept against his legs.  “You are my life… what will I do without you?”

Mark pulled him to his feet gently and clasped him tightly, burying his face in his long hair.

“It is unseemly behavior for the King of all the Brits to throw himself at the feet of a common man.”  Mark told him as he continued to weep uncontrollably.  “You have been without me for years now.  You have Meredith and your duty.  The people love you.”

“But I had you much longer than any of them.”  Luke would not let go of him.  “I want to go home, Mark!  I want to go home to Scotland.  I want to walk in the meadow and lie in the grass and smoke a good pipe with Paddy Puffingtowne and get drunk with Barry of Sussex around a campfire.  I don’t want to be King!”

Mark pushed him away and held him by his arms.

“When things are set aright, God willing that they will be, you can go wherever you like.  You can move the throne to Lothian if you like.  You can name a successor and retire to Scotland.  Your brother is mortal and he will need you.  Luke, he is innocent.  Do you hear me?  He is a new man, literally.  He will need someone to teach him, and he is a teacher.  You can learn from him and he from you.  And there is something else…”  Mark looked up at the ceiling of the purple and white tent as it seemed to breathe in the desert breeze.

“What?”  Luke blinked back his tears and wiped at his eyes.

“Sophia is pregnant.  They will need to be married and the child will be special.”

“All children are special, brother.”

“But this one will be the one we have been waiting on.”  Mark smiled at him.

“What do you mean?”  Luke frowned and then sank onto a small canvass stool.

“I mean that this will be the one.”  Mark told him again more slowly.  “He will call him Michael Emmanuel and he will be the Morning Star and the Evening Star, and the Alpha and the Omega.  The high priest of the line of Melchezedek.”

“I don’t want to hear this!”  Luke put his face in his hands.

Mark took him by the shoulders and jerked him to his feet.

“Listen to me!  You must help them.  You heard these shallow potentates.  Nothing has changed.  You have fought the battle of Armageddon here, and they don’t even know it. It crept upon them and passed them by and still they are oblivious to its passing.  They do not hear the still, small voice, Luke. They will go back to their Christmas trees and stockings and hope that all is well.  If the coming fire doesn’t destroy them, then they will rise again in the glory of their ignorance.  This battle may have served a purpose, but the people still err, still turn a deaf ear to the Truth and the Light.”

Luke closed his eyes and then opened them slowly.

“Then I will do my best.  I can’t guarantee you anything.  I am a simple Lowlander.  I am not even a priest.” 

“He doesn’t need a priest.  He needs a protector.  What better protector than a King?”  Mark asked him.  “Keep them in your heart and the heart of your kingdom.  But you should keep this knowledge also in your heart and when the time is right, the Anointed One will make himself known.  Swear to me that you will not abandon your brother.”

Luke nodded and Mark let go of him.  He crossed himself, closed his eyes briefly and then swore to defend Sophia and Mark with his life.

“Now come out and speak to your captains.  They are waiting on you.  There will be trouble in the morning, and I have some business to attend to… personal business.”

The King of the Brits walked stiffly from the tent to where his aide de camp waited patiently with his horse.  Mark watched from inside the billowing silk of the command tent as his brother climbed on his horse and rode away without looking back.  Two Frankish soldiers, dressed in blue and yellow, stood on either side of the canopy.  He summoned one of them and sent them off in search of his son, Luke Andrew.  When they returned almost an hour later, Luke entered the tent cautiously.  He was still dressed in his bloodied tartan as if wearing it as a souvenir.  His hair was disheveled and his face was smeared with blood, sweat and dust.  Mark almost felt as if he had suddenly stepped back several centuries as his son stopped at the head of the table and stood looking at him with a deep frown on his face.  It was very obvious that he had not wanted to come here.

“Please, sit down, Luke.”  Mark waved one hand at the only real chair in the structure and Luke sat down, folding his hands in his lap.

When he said nothing, Mark continued.  “I know this has been very hard on you, and I believe I know what you are thinking... you don’t understand what has happened.  You don’t realize who I am.”

“That pretty much sums it up.”  Luke nodded.

“This man whom you have found here is not your father.  He is not King Ramsay, nor is he the
Chevalier du Morte
.  I know you went through this before, but that was a different circumstance altogether.  This man is simply what he would have been had I not tampered with him a thousand years ago.  He is truly the brother of your Uncle Luke Matthew and he is probably as confused as you are about all of this.”

“Have you seen him?  Have you spoken to him?  He knows more than you think.”  Luke Andrew asked, reluctant to let go of the hope that King Ramsay had somehow been restored to them.

“He knows a great deal because he has trapped a tremendous amount of knowledge in his head even he does not understand.  Perhaps he might have been a great prophet if I had not intervened in his life; perhaps it is because of my interference he suffers these things now.  I cannot say.  I do not know.  But as I told your uncle, he is innocent and none of this is his fault.  It will be very difficult for him to adjust to life.”

“I would ask you not add to his confusion, but rather help him as you might help a younger brother.  In fact, it would be in your best interests to simply consider him your brother.  Take him in as you have taken in Galen and Michael and Omar.  You have a particular brand of charisma for young people, Luke.  They look up to you.  God knows why, but they do.  Selwig admires you.  Vanni respects you and Il Dolce Mio treats you like royalty.  Surely you appreciate this fact.  Even the Mighty Djinni has a certain affinity for you.  What I’m trying to say is that you are loved, Luke, whether you believe it or not.  And I, of course, am biased because I am your father.  I believe you have a good future ahead of you.  I had my doubts as you know, but a man can change his mind and so can the rest of us.  Even Queen Ereshkigal liked you.”

“You don’t need to remind me of that!”  Luke looked away from him. 

“Never-the-less, there is no need for you to agonize over this new development.  Simply accept it for what it is and make the most of it.  He will be going back to Scotland with you when you go.  I can see no better place for him… or Sophia.”

At the mention of Sophia, Luke jerked his head up.

“She was in love with you.”  He said suddenly.  “Is she now in love with him or what?  And what about you?  I saw you with her.  Are you going to give her to him?  Is it some kind of consolation prize for them to have each other rather than you?  Is it a consolation prize for myself and Uncle Luke to have them instead of you?  You say you were leaving, and you would not be coming back.  It is the first time you have ever said such a thing and so I know that it is true.  You were always famous for saying ‘I’ll be back’, just like Arnold Schwarzenegger’s character.”  Luke was very close to tears and his voice broke as he wrung his hands in the hem of his kilt.

“Who?”  Mark frowned.

“Never mind.  It’s just very hard to understand.”  Luke looked down at his hands.  “Now you want me to take care of him?  Now I am my father’s brother?”

Mark smiled.  “I have heard it said that we are our father’s brothers and our son’s sons and our wife’s brothers and our father’s fathers.  It is just another part of the mystery of life.  Let it go, my son, and set your spirit free.  Perhaps Simon would be a better one to explain it than I am.”

Luke got up slowly and approached his father, who had remained standing during the exchange.  He looked at him for several long seconds and then clasped him in a great hug. 

“I will miss you.”  He said, but there were no tears as Luke Matthew had shed.  “Will I see you again?”

“Most likely.”  Mark told him.  “Probably when you least expect it.  I need to speak with Sophia and … and your new brother before we go on any further.  I will be leaving with Omar tomorrow. We will be marching on New Babylon.  If we can take it back, we will.  If not, we will move on.”

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