The Lost Chalice (The Relic Seekers Book 3) (14 page)

“More sacred than the room with Moses and the temple with the Fountain of Youth?”

“Yes.” He stepped inside and they followed. This room was smaller, not as elaborate, but there was a feeling of reverence, as if they’d stepped into a cathedral. Wooden cases stood along the walls, but it wasn’t apparent what they held.

They walked closer and looked in the first case. “What are those?” Kendall asked.

“Nails,” Raphael said.

“What—” Kendall’s question died as she touched the glass. She pulled in a breath. “
The
nails.” She turned to Raphael with wide eyes.

“The nails,” he said, his face growing more somber than usual.

“You mean the nails used for the crucifixion?” Nathan had moved beside Kendall and was standing quietly. “How did you get them?”

Another cryptic look on Raphael’s face. “It’s an old story.” One he didn’t seem inclined to tell.

He led them to more objects, things Jake hadn’t even known still existed. Raphael paused by a case containing a crown, not jeweled as the one he’d seen in the other room. This one was made of thorns. Wicked, long thorns. They all stood before it in silence. Jake cringed at the thought of it being forced onto Christ’s head, piercing his scalp, ripping flesh until it met his skull. The thorns looked darker than the rest of the crown. Blood? A tear rolled down Kendall’s cheek. As disturbing as Jake’s thoughts were, he couldn’t imagine what she must be feeling. He wanted to touch her, but he didn’t want to intrude, and if he were honest, he was leery about what he might see. More than once he’d sensed some of what she felt and saw while touching her. It was intense, and that was an understatement.

While he was wondering if he was a coward or just giving her space, she turned to Raphael, her expression confused. Raphael’s eyes widened a bit, and then his face went blank. Quickly, he moved to another case. This one held part of a beam. It was rugged and stained with dark splotches.

“The cross,” Kendall said. Her hands were shaking, and she clasped them in front of her.

“The cross.” Raphael’s voice was tight, his expression grave. “There are other pieces here and there, but this is the largest.”

Emotions rolled over Kendall’s face, and finally, with trembling lips, she turned away. “How did you get it?” She watched him as if the question were a test.

Raphael seemed uncomfortable, which meant he was sullen. “It would take a while to explain. We should finish the tour so I can check on the men.”

“Fergus is probably going nuts,” Nathan said.

Kendall looked tired. The relics were taking a toll on her. Jake had been touching her the first time she saw the crucifixion. He’d felt a bit of what she felt, but nothing compared to seeing it, experiencing it. He was starting to feel like he’d abandoned her by purposely trying not to imagine the horror, while Kendall couldn’t help seeing it all.

Nathan had noticed the effect it was having on her as well and stayed close to Kendall. Jake took her hand in his. Her palm was cold and sweaty. She would need to rest after this.

“What’s this?” Nathan asked, pointing to a cloth.

“The burial cloth.” Raphael made the announcement without fanfare, as if it were just an old sheet.

“The Shroud of Turin?” Kendall asked.

“That shroud is a fake. This one is real.” He showed them more objects, worn sandals, a bloody loincloth, and a whip that made Jake feel sick even though he couldn’t experience what Kendall saw. Jake stood on one side of her and Nathan on the other as she silently wept. She had pulled her hand free of Jake’s, and he didn’t know whether it was to protect him or if she wanted to be alone.

She sniffed softly and they continued on, looking at holy relics most people would never view. Jake loved the search for treasure, and he enjoyed a good legend as much as anyone, but after his trip through the Protettori’s relic rooms, he understood the passion and devotion that drove Kendall and Nathan.

“I’ve never seen so many holy relics,” Jake said.

“We’ve spent centuries collecting and protecting them,” Raphael said. “There are many who would misuse them. And as we know, some of them are extremely powerful.” He moved on and pointed out several holy artifacts that had been kept in the abbey. “We had many relics there, but King Henry the Eighth wanted them for himself, so we had to hide them.”

“Could he have taken the chalice?” Kendall asked. “You said you didn’t actually see the Reaper take it.”

“No, we still had it then. It must have been Luke. He’s the only one who knew I had it. We were very close, traveling the world in search of relics and objects of power. One night I was injured on a journey, and as I slept, I revealed the secret of the chalice and the Fountain of Youth, that drinking the fountain’s water from the chalice would give eternal life. Luke asked me about it when I awoke, and I had to lie to him. I told him I must have been rambling in my dreams. I trusted my brothers, but not with the knowledge of the fountain. I couldn’t move the fountain, but it was too dangerous to keep the chalice nearby, so I moved it to a new hiding place, separating the two pieces. Not long after, Luke told me he was leaving the brotherhood. He’d fallen in love with a
woman.” Raphael’s eyes clouded. “I knew he’d been acting strange. Luke confronted me about the chalice and the fountain. He knew I had lied. As I said, we were very close. He said he wanted to see th
em before he left. I refused and he got angry. He cursed me and the brotherhood. I took his cross and told him he didn’t deserve to wear it.” Raphael’s stony face twitched with emotion. “I moved the chalice again, and he must have seen me bury it. After he left, I went to check on it and the chalice was gone. He must have taken it and then lost it sometime later.”

“But if he knew what the real Holy Grail looked like, then why did he think the Blue Chalice could be the real thing?” Kendall asked.

“Maybe he forgot exactly what it looked like,” Jake said. “He could have lost it a long time ago.”

“Luke never came back?” Nathan asked.

“No. We took precautions and moved all the relics to new locations and increased our guards. We put sentinels in place, here and everywhere we had sacred relics, which allowed no one to pass without the Protettori’s cross. I searched for Luke and the chalice over the centuries, but I never found him. We didn’t see or hear from him until his men attacked us several years ago.”

“How did they get inside?” Jake asked.

“Someone disarmed the statues. He must have been working with someone inside,” Raphael said. “We never learned who it was, since almost everyone died in the attack.”

“Leaving just you and Marco,” Kendall said.

“And the Reaper,” Raphael added. “Marco and I weren’t here at the time. We had gone to move some of the relics to another location.”

Nathan frowned. “How could the brotherhood not know about the fountain if they were drinking the water to stay strong?”

“They didn’t know where the water came from. They knew it was holy water, given to them by me. I think some of them suspected it came from the Fountain of Youth, but they had no idea if it was a place or an object. They questioned me at times, and when necessary, I lied. Only one person besides Marco and I knew the location.” Raphael’s smile was sad. “But he died.”

“King Arthur,” Kendall said.

“Yes. King Arthur. He and I protected the fountain and the chalice.”

“You knew him well?” Nathan asked.

Raphael studied Nathan for a moment. “Very well.”

There were so many things Jake wanted to ask about King Arthur. He had been obsessed when he was a kid, but knowing that Nathan was connected to the legend made it awkward now.

“So the fountain was right there under the brotherhood’s noses and no one knew about it but you, Marco, and King Arthur?” Jake asked, glancing at Nathan.

“And Luke,” Raphael added. “But he didn’t know where it was. If he finds the chalice before we do, we’re all in trouble.”

“If he does, and he drinks from the fountain and becomes eternal, would that really be the end of the world?” Jake asked.

“He turned his back on his vow to protect the relics, which in turn protects humanity. And he’s looking for other powerful relics. I believe eternal youth is only one piece of his plan.”

“Eternal youth and power,” Jake said.

Raphael looked grim. “And more.”

“More?” Jake asked.

“It’s too soon to speak of that.”

“You expect us to help you, but you’re still holding out. This is like going on a mission without a sitrep,” Jake said.

“This isn’t the military, and you’re not Protettori,” Raphael said. “You’ll get a situation report as you need it. For now we need to focus on the chalice.”

Jake’s fists clenched. He didn’t like being kept in the dark, but what could he do? He couldn’t force Raphael to talk, and though he might not be part of the Protettori like Kendall was, he was her protector, and by God he couldn’t walk away and leave her here. It wasn’t just a sense of duty. His jackass attempts to put her off and keep her at arm’s length had backfired, and now he was in love.

“How many of the brotherhood were there before?” Nathan asked.

“At one time, there were dozens of us.”

“That must have made it difficult to do your job,” Nathan said. “Couldn’t you have made some of the dead into sentinels, at least?”

“No. Guardians must be alive to become sentinels.”

“That seems strange,” Jake said. “They have to be alive to become stone.”

“Where did you bury the ones who died?” Kendall asked.

“Some were put in the catacombs, some in the graveyard.”

“Why have both?” Kendall asked.

“Originally the keepers were buried in the catacombs, and the guardians who chose to die were buried in the graveyard.”

“My father and mother were buried outside the graveyard,” Kendall said.

“Yes,” Raphael said. “Your father was no longer part of the Protettori. It was out of respect that we buried them here at all. I know that must be hard to understand.”

“Why did you bury my mother here?”

“Your father requested it, and out of respect for him, we allowed it. I think he wanted her here, where the Reaper couldn’t touch her, even in death.”

“In the vision I saw, she said she had betrayed my father. She was sent by the Reaper to seduce him.”

“And she fell in love with your father,” Raphael said. “That’s part of the reason we agreed to bury her here. She did love him, even though she was sent by the Reaper. But you can see how we couldn’t bury her, or later on him, in our consecrated ground.”

“You mentioned the Reaper’s child before,” Kendall said. “So he does have a child? If he and my mother were that close . . .”

“It isn’t you,” Raphael said. “He had a son.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

J
AKE SAW THE
relief in Kendall’s eyes, and he was glad. Her fear that the Reaper was somehow her father had worried her more than she admitted. “Had? He’s dead?” As old as the Reaper was, he could have generations of descendants running around.

“I don’t know.”

“Do you know who he was?” Jake asked. “You knew him better than anyone.”

Raphael looked tired. “Obviously not. The man I thought I knew wouldn’t have stolen our relics. He wouldn’t have had his brothers slaughtered. I wonder if I ever knew him.”

“If he attacked the castle, he must have thought you had the chalice?”

“We didn’t.”

“He killed his brothers to reclaim a chalice that you didn’t have,” Nathan said.

Raphael’s eyes were sad. “Yes.”

“Does he still believe you have it?” Kendall asked.

“I don’t think so,” Raphael said, “or he would have tried again. So now we have to find out who does.”

“How do we even know that what we’re searching for is the real Holy Grail?” Jake asked.

“I saw the chalice being used to catch Christ’s blood,” Kendall said.

“I know. I was there,” Jake said. He hadn’t seen everything she had, but he’d seen and felt enough to know it was real. “But that doesn’t mean the artifact we’re supposed to find—assuming this entire story is true—is the real Holy Grail.” He needed to know they were on the right trail before he let Kendall risk her life on this bizarre quest.

“
The legend is partially true,” Raphael said. “The cup that Christ drank from at the Last Supper was priceless, even if it hadn’t been used to catch Christ’
s blood. His enemies and his followers alike wanted it, so it had to be hidden. I assure you the chalice was buried there, and it was the Holy Grail.”

“How can you be certain,” Jake asked, “unless you saw it buried?”

Kendall’s eyes flared. “It was you. You buried the chalice.”

Everyone was silent for a brief, tense moment.

“Yes, I buried the chalice,” Raphael said. “That’s how I know it was the Holy Grail.”

Nathan wasn’t looking at the relics now. He was focused on Raphael. “You’re Joseph?”

Raphael looked irritated. “No, I’m not Joseph. I told you, not all of the story is true.”

“He’s not Joseph,” Kendall said quietly. “He was a Roman soldier. I saw him in my vision.”

“You were a Roman soldier . . . at the crucifixion?” Jake had been with Kendall the first time she’d had a vision of the crucifixion. He’d experienced some strange things, but he hadn’t seen Raphael. He hadn’t seen any faces.

“I saw you when I looked at the nails,” Kendall said. “You looked different then. You didn’t have the tattoos and long hair.”

Raphael looked as stony as the statues outside the castle, and then his tattoos twitched. “I wasn’t a soldier. I was a centurion.”

Kendall’s and Nathan’s jaws dropped as if they’d met a rock star. “A centurion,” Kendall said. “You’re Longinus.”

“Who’s Longinus?” Jake asked, though he thought he’d heard the name before.

Nathan’s face was almost glowing. “He was
the
centurion, the one who presided over the crucifixion of Christ.”

“You crucified Jesus?” Jake knew the story in the Bible. After witnessing all the horrors that had been inflicted on Jesus, the centurion had seen nothing but love and forgiveness. In the final moments, when Jesus cried out in despair and died, and lightning flashed from heaven and ripped the veil in the temple from top to bottom, something not humanly possible, the centurion had realized his error, that this poor insurgent he’d crucified, the man they mocked as King of the Jews, was in fact the Son of God, not some local troublemaker that Rome needed to silence.

Raphael’s expression was dark. “I didn’t know who he was. Not until it was too late.”

“And you’ve been trying to make it right ever since,” Kendall said. “You started the brotherhood. You were the one who first gathered the relics.”

Raphael’s gaze focused on the piece of the cross. “I didn’t intend to. I took the spear as a reminder of what I had done. The other relics came over the years. I had helped Joseph take . . . the body down and bury it, and I protected him. His support of Jesus had been a secret until then, and he was in danger for publicly helping. Joseph and I became friends. Even though I had taken part in the crucifixion, Joseph knew I had done so in ignorance. Those were troubled times. The disciples were afraid for their lives. They were confused. After the body disappeared, there were those who would have destroyed anything connected to Christ, and then others who wanted anything that could be used as a reminder of faith. Joseph was afraid someone would steal the chalice and destroy it . . . or use it. It was still stained with Christ’s blood, and he believed it was blessed. I didn’t believe him—not then—but I was his friend, so I agreed. He asked me to return it to the place where he had traveled with Jesus when he was a boy. They had found a cave there. Joseph was thirsty, but they had no water. Jesus touched the wall, and a spring started to flow from the rock.”

Kendall’s face was glowing with excitement. “Jesus made the Fountain of Youth when he was a boy?”

Raphael nodded. “So Joseph said, and I believe him. I made a vow to him that I would return the chalice and hide it there.” Raphael frowned. “It took a long while to keep my promise to Joseph. Along the journey I noticed that there were unusual things about the relics.”

“Like?” Kendall asked.

“I could feel their power. I was becoming stronger. Joseph was right. The chalice was blessed. So were the other relics. If anyone had found out the power the objects held, it could have caused untold trouble. I had to keep them hidden. That became my mission. I found the entrance to the cave just as Joseph had said and the fountain of water flowing from the wall. I hid the chalice there, and I carved a bowl of stone to catch the water. Later, I made the cave into a temple, a place where I could go and reflect on my life, on the gravity of my sins.” Raphael paused. “I discovered that the water was even more powerful than I had thought. I wasn’t aging. I knew it was crucial that I keep it hidden.”

Jake shook his head, still trying to process that Raphael was the centurion in the Bible who had presided over the crucifixion of Christ.

“Did you drink from the chalice?”

Raphael paused. “Yes.”

“Then you’re . . .” Kendall’s green eyes sparked, but she didn’t finish the thought either.

“Going to live a very long time,” Raphael said.

“You’re bloody eternal,” Nathan said.

“Eternal is a complicated word,” Raphael said. “No one knows if such a thing exists for humans.”

Jake laughed, but without humor. “You’re over two thousand years old, and you look like you’re twenty-five. You died here at the castle. Kendall and I both saw you, and now you’re alive. I’d say that’s a pretty good indication.”

“Not everything is as it seems.”

“That could be the Protettori mantra,” Jake said.

“So the Chalice Well and White Springs didn’t come from the chalice being buried as legend says?” Kendall asked.

“The legends are only partially true. The Chalice Well and the White Springs come from the same spring as the Fountain of Youth, and they have some mild healing properties, but not like the actual fountain.”

“You built the temple alone?” Nathan asked. “You said no one else knew about it. Don’t tell me you killed everyone who knew about it . . . Bloody hell. You did.”

“I did what I had to do to protect the objects.”

It was harsh, but Jake understood. Sometimes in the course of things, hard choices had to be made.

“My experience with the relics convinced me that I had to keep them hidden, and there were many more relics that needed to be found. I couldn’t do it alone, so I found men who were worthy, and I established the brotherhood.”

“What about women?” Kendall asked, frowning.

“Things were different then,” Raphael said. “But there have been a few women who helped me along the way.” His eyes clouded again. “Strong women.” He took a breath as if separating himself from that thought. “Eventually, the brotherhood flourished in secret. Many were monks, and we helped build the abbey and hid among them. Now, I have only you to help me. Marco is old, his memory fading.”

“We will help you,” Kendall said, her face fierce as a warrior. “We will find the Holy Grail.”

“We need to start quickly,” Raphael said. “We have lost a lot of time.”

They left the room, and Jake looked back at the relics, hidden and protected for so long. “I can’t believe you’re the centurion.”

“That was a long time ago. Now I’m Raphael.”

No wonder he’d looked so mad when Jake had called him Attila the Hun. Romans hated Attila.

“There’s a statue of you at St. Peter’s Basilica,” Nathan said.

Raphael made a sound of derision. “I’ve seen it. It’s not a good likeness.”

“The legends say you died a martyr,” Kendall said.

“The legends were wrong. I’m going to check on the men.”

“I’ll go too,” Jake said. “I would pay to see Fergus with them.”

“Gentlemen!” Fergus raised his voice, but the men weren’t listening. They were all asking questions, most of which he didn’t understand. They wanted more food. More drink. They wanted out of this room. They were confused. And rude. All the things he’d done for Nathan—protecting him, sheltering him, keeping him healthy and sane—had been a walk in the park compared to this. He was going to suggest a long vacation after they got rid of this abominable Reaper.

“What are you then?” the big blond man asked, touching the lapel of Fergus’s suit.

Fergus discreetly pulled back. “A butler.”

“What’s that?”

“I take care of things.”

“For the king, eh?”

“The king?”

“King Arthur?”

He’d forgotten about that. Raphael had mentioned something about the men thinking Nathan was King Arthur. “Yes, the king.” Perhaps if they believed that, they would leave him alone.

But they didn’t. They crowded around him, eating, burping, and asking questions. His head pounded, and he took one of his headache pills and washed it down with a large swallow of water, wishing it was something stronger.

“Where does one piss in this place?” the bald man asked.

Fergus walked to the wall and pointed to a large mixing bowl he’d borrowed from the kitchen. He hoped the cook had another because this one was out of service permanently. “We’ve brought a chamber pot.” He tried—unsuccessfully, he feared—not to grimace. “You can place it around the corner until other arrangements are made.” Dear God, where was Raphael?

Finally the din died down and the men sat down or lay on the floor. They seemed tired. Perhaps eating after hundreds of years of stillness had a tiring effect on the body. Slowly, the room filled with the sounds of sleep, snoring and worse. Fergus sat on a stone bench of some sort—he hoped it wasn’t an altar—and closed his eyes.

Raphael led Kendall, Nathan, and Jake back to the room where the men were being held. He opened the lock and they stepped inside. The room was empty. Fergus was lying stiff as a board on a stone surface, fast asleep.

“Fergus!” Raphael roared.

Fergus shot up off the bench, every hair in place, not a wrinkle in his suit. “Yes.” He looked around the room and blinked. “What happened? Where are they?”

“You tell me,” Raphael said.

“I don’t know. I fell asleep.” He looked frantic.

“Did you drink the water?” Raphael shouted.

“Yes,” Fergus said.

“It contained a strong sedative.”

Fergus’s mouth dropped open. “And you didn’t think to warn me?”

“I didn’t expect you to share drink with them.”

“I had a headache.” Fergus’s voice rose above his normal, controlled tone. “I needed water to take my pill.”

Raphael rubbed his forehead, his brows tense. “We must find them.”

“Is it such a problem?” Fergus asked. “They’re odd, and irritating, but they’re just men.”

“They are rogues. I put them to sleep because I couldn’t kill them.”

Fergus’s eyes bugged out. “And you left me here, defenseless, with those monsters?” he yelled.

Raphael looked surprised. Fergus didn’t often get rattled. “That’s why I sedated them.”

Fergus’s face was so red it looked like it might explode. “I’m going to my bed. You can find these bloody rogues yourself.”

“What is that smell?” Kendall asked.

“That’s the mixing bowl,” Fergus said, his shoulders stiff as he marched from the room.

“What do you mean, you put them to sleep because you couldn’t kill them?” Nathan asked. “I knew they were unstable but . . .”

“They went rogue. They were out of control,” Raphael said.

“You have rogue sentinels?” Jake asked.

“Rogue guardians. They were never intended to be sentinels to continue their work in statue form. I merely turned them to stone to keep them out of trouble. Sometimes living so long can have a negative effect. It can become tiresome just existing for so many centuries. Some guardians turned to drink or lost sight of their mission. If one of them got out of control, they had to be put to rest.”