The Red Cross of Gold I:. The Knight of Death (37 page)

Simon watched him leave with great relief.
“Please pardon him, Brothers, he suffers from migraines.”

“Oh, really? And jealousy, no?” d’Antin
looked at Lucio again. “I can see why. Jean-Paul has an excellent
remedy for headaches, don’t you?” He turned his gaze on his
companion who nodded and actually giggled.

“I’m sure he will find an aspirin somewhere,”
Simon said quickly. “He is… it’s not a good idea to disturb him
when he is in one of his moods.”

“He did seem like a bear.” DeVilliers
laughed.

“Yes, he is,” Dambretti agreed and looked at
Simon. “But when he is feeling well, he’s like a big teddy
bear.”

Christopher choked on his milk and sprayed
the table in front of him.

Lucio stood up. “Well, gentlemen, it has been
a great pleasure, but we must go and see to our Brother’s head,
no?”

DeVilliers and d’Antin burst out laughing at
his suggestive remark. Lucio nodded toward the door and Simon got
up immediately to follow him out. Dambretti took Christopher by the
arm on his way out and dragged him along with them.

“Wait!” D’Antin got up and followed after the
Italian. “Perhaps when your friend is feeling better, we can get
together this afternoon before we go out to the meeting. We would
be glad to show you the view from our room, Brother.”

Dambretti looked back at him and gave him his
best smile.

“That sounds… delicious,” he answered. “Simon
here might be interested to learn a new remedy for headaches. He
fancies himself a healer of sorts.”

They piled out the door together, leaving the
two Frenchmen laughing and the German eyeing the last of the
cinnamon rolls on the platter in front of him.

Beaujold was pacing the floor in their room
when they burst through the door, breathless from the enervating
conversation.

“Brother Lucio,” Simon said as soon as the
door was closed behind them. “A word with you.”

“Shhh!” Lucio hushed him. “I know what you
are going to say, my Brother.”

Beaujold turned to stare at them with a very
grim look on his thin face.

“What are we supposed to do now?” he asked
them as they stood near the door in a tight group. “I refuse to
associate with… these… these degenerates. They openly flaunt their
perversion. An abomination in the eyes of God! If you will recall,
the mere accusation of such behaviors a few hundred years ago sent
so many of our Brothers to the dungeons of the Inquisition. And did
you hear what that German fool said about the stake? I should have
slit his fat jowl from ear to ear. I tell you I cannot stand to be
in their presence. It sickens me!”

“Please, calm yourself, Brother Thomas. You
must practice more tolerance. These things are commonplace,”
d’Ornan tried to counsel him and placed one hand on the man’s
shoulder, looking into his eyes. “We were all offended by his
words. There are many things in the world today which offend our
sensibilities, but the world has changed. These people do not
understand what happened so long ago. It is not their fault.
Society has drifted far from God and they have set up their own
versions of what is right and what is wrong. It is not for us to
judge them. It is not our duty."

"We are the chosen ones, my Brother. God has
chosen us to keep the vigil and when the time comes, we will fight
on the side of Christ at Armageddon. We will lead the armies of
Christ. We cannot allow these things to stand against that purpose.
God will be the one with the final word and we cannot go around
making idle threats against everyone who offends us. Everything
exists at the express Will of God. That means these people, whom we
find so strange, are also here by the Will of God. Whatever His
purpose for them, it will not be revealed to us unless He decides
to reveal it. The Church has allowed these things to propagate
since the times of old and by their silence, have condoned the
spread of heresy. They are ignorant of the Truth, but no amount of
darkness can put out even the smallest candle. We cannot make
things better for them by segregating ourselves from them. How can
we teach, if we have no students? How can we lead, if we have no
followers? How can we preach, if we have no congregation?”

Beaujold looked down at the shorter man and
seemed to relax.

“Besides, these men have been put at our
disposal by the Will of God.” D’Ornan smiled at him. “And as I
said, He will reveal their purpose. Furthermore, I am happy to say
that I believe that He has revealed that purpose to me. They will
provide us with the means to enter the mansion tonight and
accomplish what we set out to do. You should thank the Creator for
His help, not rant and rave about the means.”

“You are right, Brother. I beg your
indulgence,” Beaujold clasped the Healer’s arm and nodded.

Dambretti was unimpressed with Beaujold’s
apology, but Simon’s rhetoric had lifted his spirits remarkably.
The Knight of the Sword only wished to remain on good terms with
Simon because of the Grand Master’s high regard for the man.

“Of course he is right,” Dambretti crossed
the room and threw himself down on the springy bed. “Times have
changed. You know this better than any of us. It is now a crime to
persecute them. The authorities protect their rights, but this is
far better than the treatment we were all subjected to in the past.
I would rather have us all free from such injustices, including
them, than to worry that an Inquisitor should show up at the door
on any given night to drag us away to the dungeon. I spent enough
time there. I, for one, can accept this as the will of God and I
suggest you do the same, Brother Thomas. It will all work out in
the end and all will be saved, blah dee blah dee blah! As it is
written, so let it be done. None will be lost and that is according
to the Immutable Will of God. I, like you, am appalled and repelled
by the blatant disregard for the teachings of the Christ in this
day and age. At least some of the Christians of old thought they
were right, but ignorance, like a wine stain on linen, does not go
away by itself. The Healer is right. We need to make use of what
God provides, no matter how we might feel about it personally and
we must… give thanks for it.”

“You!” Beaujold turned on him vehemently.
“You seemed to enjoy it, my Brother. Perhaps you have spent too
much time alone. And only moments ago you pressed your dagger at my
throat for insulting our much beloved Brother Ramsay. Perhaps you
would do better to find yourself a woman.”

“Brother Thomas!” Simon exclaimed and then
cast a scowl at Dambretti for provoking the man again. “We will do
well not to argue and fight among ourselves.” He glanced at
Christopher who still stood by the door, looking very pale and put
out. The apprentice had no idea what they were saying. He didn’t
speak French or Italian. He looked ready to bolt at any moment as
if he was sure they were talking about him.

“We are making a very bad impression on the
young one.” Simon nodded at Christopher. “He does not understand
why we constantly bicker amongst ourselves. I suggest we go over my
plan now, while we have time, in English, so that he can see how we
intend to carry out our mission like true Knights of Christ.”

Simon motioned for the apprentice to join
them and then laid out the plan he had concocted to get them inside
the mansion. Christopher would play a part as well, since he was
the servant of the much beloved Brother Ramsay and, more
importantly, had already been inside the buildings and knew the lay
of the land.

((((((((((((()))))))))))))

The ‘much beloved’ Brother Ramsay was having
an exceptionally bad ending for an otherwise lovely morning. He had
broken his vow twice more and then fell into a blissful, dreamless
sleep with his head lying on Merry’s stomach. Now he was without
his comfortable pillow and most of what had been left of his
dignity.

“Ow!” he complained loudly when Maxie pulled
the rope tighter on his ankles.

“If you had been wearing socks… among other
things… it wouldn’t hurt so bad,” the big man grumbled and stood up
slowly. “You’re lucky I let you get your pants on, dipshit.”

“You are so generous. I am eternally
grateful.” Mark glared at him balefully as he tested the damnable
handcuffs securing his wrists to the chair. Maxie had passed the
rope around his chest, his stomach, his legs and ended up at his
feet. The man obviously did not trust him for some reason.

“I know. I’m a fucking angel of mercy.” Maxie
grinned at him, causing the ugly scar on his face to pucker. “We
are all sooo generous. Especially some of us.” He glanced at the
open door of the bedroom where the Pixie had disappeared in tears
only a few moments earlier. “Miss Valentino ain’t gonna like this
at all. You sure know how to make friends and influence your
enemies. Not with the rite of the fucking virgin tonight. Some
virgin, eh?”

Valentino chose that unfortunate moment to
arrive. She was dressed in a white suit of impeccable cut, with a
single red rose on her lapel. She stopped in the doorway and stood
glaring at him, her face almost as red as the flower. She seemed to
be making a conscious effort to control her temper. After a few
seconds, her face underwent a subtle change and her features
relaxed.

“I’m terribly sorry about this, Mr. Ramsay,”
she said pleasantly and then smiled at him. “But I am very
disturbed by your behavior. Merry is down there crying her eyes out
because I won’t allow her to come back up here and check on you.
Furthermore, she is devastated because I told her that you would
not be attending the ceremony tonight. Poor thing, she just doesn’t
understand. Sometimes she can be such a child. Tomorrow I’m afraid
you will have to leave.”

“You can stop with the games, Cecile,” he
said tiredly. “You have no intention of allowing me to leave here.
And as far as Merry is concerned, I believe you underestimate her.
She knows her own mind very well.”

“And you, sir, have not fooled me for one
minute,” she said. “You would try to make me think that you could
love her? You pitch your woo at her and expect her to catch it?
Bullshit! I have to commend you on your continued evasion of my
purposes, but you will tell me where to find your Grand Master
before you go. I don’t know how you did it, but you had me
believing that you had lost your memory. When I had you under
hypnosis, I couldn’t reach you. That is very strange, but I know
that you tricked me. I know that you have powers beyond my scope of
experience. You know where he is and you will give it up or you
will follow your precious Anthony to the grave. Whether you are
alive or dead when I bury you makes no difference to me, but it
might matter a great deal to you. I am only glad that I have been
able to keep you from spoiling her completely. It will take months
of therapy to repair the mental damages your rejection has caused,
but that is quite all right. I’d rather have her virginity intact
than her heart. I can thank you for that much.”

Maxie snorted from his position at the door
and then cleared his throat loudly. Apparently Merry’s word carried
more weight than his.

Mark frowned at the woman and then closed his
eyes briefly. Merry had been able to convince the woman that
nothing had happened between them… again?

“There is no need to thank me. I wouldn’t
dream of taking advantage of her. She has been very hospitable to
me since I’ve been your guest,” he said evenly and Maxie coughed
loudly. “Unfortunately, I do not know where the Grand Master is.
The simple truth is that your pet monkey here really did cause a
great deal of trouble for both of us when he doused me with your
half-assed concoction. I simply cannot give what I do not have, no
matter what you do. You might as well bury me now.”

“Don’t tempt me!” she snapped and tossed her
head. “I am a bit too busy right now to fuck with you. I don’t have
time for you or your friends right now.”

“My friends?” He perked up a bit at this,
ironically enough thinking first of John Tellman.

“Yes. What puzzles me is why they are
fighting over you. I thought they were going to kill each other and
save me the trouble. Or is that some more of your Order’s macho
bullshit? Fighting for the right to do the dirty deed?”

He sat digesting her words. She seemed to be
talking about the strange events of the night when he thought there
were two men with swords fighting above his head. It must have been
real, but what had happened? Where were they now? Her question was
perfectly legitimate. Why would they be fighting each other?

“You might as well expect more trouble. I
told you someone would come for me,” he told her with far more
confidence than he possessed.

“Did you?” She smiled at him. “I don’t seem
to recall that, but I did expect it.”

“They will be back,” he said even though he
knew it would be to his detriment if they came back and found him
tied in a chair for their convenience.

“Why were they fighting over you?” Her eyes
narrowed suspiciously. “You know why. Tell me.”

“Do you think you are the only one who would
steal my secrets?” he asked cryptically. “Do you really want to
leave me here like this so just anyone can find me?”

“Oh, now you are playing games with me.” She
laughed. “Yes, I’m going to leave you here alllll alone. Don’t
worry. I’ll do my best to protect you from your Brothers.”

Mark swallowed hard at that thought. If she
thought she and her miserable Maxie were a match for what he knew
was coming, she was sadly mistaken. His situation was not very
hopeful. He had lost too much time regaining his senses and he had
allowed his arrogance and his lust for the Pixie to get the best of
him. Now he had really gotten himself into trouble. The gravity of
the situation was totally beyond her comprehension.

“Pride goeth before the fall,” he muttered to
himself in a brief moment of self-deprecation.