The Red Cross of Gold I:. The Knight of Death (69 page)

They walked into the kitchen as if nothing
had happened. The cook glanced up at them, frowned when Merry
shrugged apologetically and then went back to his salad. The maid
stared at them indifferently. She would have to clean the mud from
the floors. She muttered something in Spanish under her breath and
shook her head.

Merry headed straight for the back stairwell
and Mark nodded to the maid who eyed him suspiciously as he passed.
The passage up to the second floor and into Merry’s bedroom was
almost too easy. She closed the door softly and then began
rummaging frantically through the drawers in her dresser. Her hands
shook as she pulled her clothes out, throwing them helter-skelter
about the room in panic. She looked up at him and shook her head.
The keys were not there. Not where she remembered hiding them.

“I swear I put them here,” she told him and
began to cry in frustration. His keys had been important to her.
She remembered stealing them from Cecile’s desk in the library and
bringing them up here. She remembered how it seemed as if she had
to have them, had to have everything pertaining to him in her
possession. Even his rental car keys. She remembered how the
keychain looked in every detail. A clip held the keys on a silver
chain attached to a gold and silver medallion into which his
initials had been engraved and filled with black lacquer. Just his
initials. MAR. No address. No phone number. She had needed it. Mark
opened the door a crack and looked out into the strangely quiet
hallway. Merry attacked her bureau with the same reckless abandon,
pulling out the drawers, dumping the contents on the floor, all the
while muttering ‘Where? Where?’

Mark could hear someone walking up the
stairs, two someones. He watched the top of the stairs with one
eye, waiting to see who was coming. Beaujold’s head appeared above
the top riser, followed closely by Maxie’s ugly face still sporting
the bandage on his nose. Mark eased the door to and signaled for
her to be quiet. Merry froze and they waited until Maxie had
escorted the Knight down the hall and up the stairs to the third
floor. Mark nodded to her and she began searching even more
desperately than before.

Mark opened the door again and resumed his
surveillance of the hallway.

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

“Sir, I must protest!” Montague pleaded with
d’Brouchart as they made their way up the steps and back inside the
mansion. “Do not do this. There must be some other way.”

“Enough!” d’Brouchart raised his voice and
held up the baculus as Montague opened the door. “I will have my
Knights returned to me.”

Sir Montague cringed away from the twisted
ivory staff with the orb of cracked amber on top. The golden claws
surrounding the imperfectly cut crystalline ball reflected the
light in brilliant flashes. He could see the triangular white
emblem suspended inside the crystal with the red cross emblazoned
on it. He had never seen the baculus of the Grand Master of the
Knights Templar, but he had heard of it. It was unclear why the
Master had it now. He had told the woman that he needed to get the
missing ingredient for the Tree of Life from the Range Rover before
they could continue with the exchange of 'goods'. The thing
frightened Montague and he knew quite well that it had absolutely
nothing to do with the ceremony associated with bestowing
immortality. All he knew about the baculus was that it was ancient,
perhaps even prehistoric if the words of Louis Champlain held any
water at all. According to the Knight of the Golden Key, the
baculus, like the Golden Key, had been handed down from the
Atlantean god-kings to the extinct race of Djinn until it had
passed into the hands of the poor Knights of the Temple of Solomon.
It was as enigmatic as the pyramids in Egypt and as mysterious as
the stone rings at Salisbury. Whatever its source, its power was
great and mystical and he wanted nothing to do with it. He held the
door open for the Master and they stepped into the spacious foyer
of the mansion.

Mark eased the door of Merry’s bedroom open
and strained his ears to hear the voices below in the foyer, where
someone had just entered through the front door. His heart froze as
he recognized the voice of d’Brouchart, the Grand Master and the
Knight of the Holy City, Sir William Montague. What were they doing
here? He’d never known the Master to travel with Montague and he’d
never known of Montague going on missions of this sort. Cecile had
certainly outdone herself this time in more ways than one, but
where was the formidable lady? She was not in the foyer, greeting
her guests. They had let themselves in.

“Now let’s get this thing done,” d’Brouchart
told his companion.

Mark stepped into the hallway in complete
silence and edged his way out onto the balcony far enough to see
over the railing. The sight of the Grand Master with the baculus
almost made him faint from fear.

He had to get Merry out of the house now. He
had no intention of going with her, but had not told her yet. He
would send her away and do what he had to do to ensure that the
Order was protected. Now his plans would have to include protecting
the Grand Master. Since his memories had returned, his duty had
been quite clear to him. The possibility of accompanying the woman
was out of the question. It would be a useless endeavor. His
situation was very precarious and there were no options open for
him other than the remote possibility of regaining his standing
within the Order. There was no hope for the relationship between
himself and the Pixie. Love or not. It didn’t matter. He had to go
back or he had to die. There was nothing in between. No gray area…
only black. The one thing he was worried about at the moment,
however, was Merry’s safety. He had to get her away from the house
before the Grand Master did whatever he was planning to do. Once
she was away, he would come back to do his part.

He slipped silently back into the room and
scrambled through the stuff on the floor, looking for the damned
keys with renewed urgency.

“Wait! Wait!” Merry looked up with dawning
realization. Cecile had almost caught her with the keychain the
fourth night of his captivity. She had left them in a candle jar in
Cecile’s bathroom. “I remember now. I left them in Valentino’s
room. And my pistol’s gone, too! Cecile’s been in my stuff!”

“Damn it!” Mark beat the floor with his fist.
He grabbed her by the shoulders and set her down in the midst of
the ruin. “Look, forget the keys for now. I have some unfinished
business here. We’ll have to split up. I want you to get the keys
and take my car. Try to stay out of sight and for God’s sake don’t
stop to argue with Cecile. Kill her if you must, but get away from
here. I’ll wait here until the coast is clear and then I’ll settle
this thing with the others. Meanwhile, I want you to go into town
and wait for me there. Where can you go? Where can I find you?”

“There’s a Bed and Breakfast Inn. Penelope
Martin’s Bed and Breakfast. Cecile owns it. I can go there, but I
don’t want to leave you. How do I know you will come?” She frowned
at him and tears welled up in her eyes.

“I have to come,” he smiled at her and lied.
He was not a good liar. He’d never had much cause to lie and didn’t
hold much store by liars. “I have to return the car to the rental
agency or pay the late charges.”

“That’s very funny,” she sniffed and he
pulled her to him, hugging her briefly and then kissing her
passionately, perhaps for the last time.

“You’re a sorry liar, Mark Ramsay,” she cried
into his shirt when he released her. “You won’t come.”

“I’ll come if I can. I promise,” he said and
then kissed her once more. “Now go before Maxie comes down from
upstairs.”

Merry got up slowly and then went to the door
quietly. She opened it slowly and peeked into the hall. She glanced
at him once more and he nodded to her, smiling, willing her to go
and then she let herself out into the hall.

“Deo gratis,” Mark whispered when she had
gone and sat down in the floor. He crossed himself and repeated a
brief prayer, asking God to protect her and begging for forgiveness
of his sins.

When he finished the prayer, he felt somewhat
better, though he hardly believed that God would be listening to
him. He picked up the sword from amidst the clutter on her floor
and tossed the dagger on the bed.

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

“What is that?” Cecile eyed the baculus with
a suspicious frown.

“The missing ingredient in the formula,
Mademoiselle,” d’Brouchart said. “It is not really an ingredient
that you do not have, but a tool and the knowledge to use it.”

“Really?” She raised her eyebrows and nodded.
“So what do we do now?”

“I need space,” he told her and Montague
stood behind him with a permanent frown etched on his face. The
Grand Master was lying. This was not the Tree of Life ceremony.
What was he up to? “Is there somewhere we can go outside. It must
be done outside in the open, under the eyes of God, but it should
be safe from prying eyes. I’m sure you understand.”

Valentino’s smile faded. She did not savor
the thought of leaving the protection of the house with these two
men and she did not want to take Maxie with her. He expected to
receive the gift as well and she had not bargained with them for
him. The last thing she wanted was an immortal Maxwell Sturgeon.
The man disgusted her. He was stupid, freaky and ugly. She couldn’t
imagine having to put up with him forever.

She rounded the desk and reached in the
drawer, removing a snub-nose revolver that she had taken from
Merry’s dresser drawer.

“Just in case you decide to try something
stupid,” she told them. “And don’t even think I don’t know how to
use it or don’t have the nerve. I’ve used it before.”

“You will not need it, mademoiselle,”
d’Brouchart told her. “But if it makes you feel better…” He
shrugged.

“I know. I know. You’re all immortal, but I
also know that I can at least temporarily disable you and you bleed
just like the rest of us.”

“Well said. Shall we go then?”

Valentino opened the patio doors and waved
them outside. “How’s this?”

“Too confined,” he told her and looked at
Montague as if to warn him to silence. “We are too close to the
building. Electrical fields interfere with the effectiveness of the
baculus. Wiring, you see?”

Valentino sighed in aggravation as she looked
around. The garden was almost a jungle. The closest place that was
more or less wide open was up the hill behind the house where she
and Merry had built an observatory in an old service building. She
sighed and motioned them toward the garden path.

“Up there,” she nodded to the limestone hill
rising up above the trees behind the house. “It’s flat up there.
Will that do?”

“It may be… acceptable.” D’Brouchart gazed up
at the hill, shading his eyes with one hand. “Yes, I believe that
will do quite well.”

They started down the picturesque path
through the garden. The cool breeze under the trees brushed his
face and caused the silver windchimes in the branches above their
heads to jingle softly. When D’Brouchart glanced up into the
branches of one of the ancient oak trees overhanging the path, he
was not surprised to see the Knight of the Apocalypse looking down
at him. He raised one finger to his lips and continued on without
stopping. Von Hetz made a slashing motion across his throat as a
signal to Simon. The Healer was perched on another branch, higher
up. They would not attack. Not yet. They waited for the two Knights
and the woman to pass and then dropped silently on the walk behind
them.

“What in God’s name?” Simon whispered as they
watched the unlikely trio disappear up the path.

“Exactly,” von Hetz nodded. His blood ran
cold at the sight of the ancient device in the Master’s hand. “This
is not a good thing, my Brother.”

Simon nodded. His blue eyes were wide with
terror as they followed their Master at a safe distance along the
red brick path leading back the way they had just come.

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

Mark stopped in his tracks in the library,
then flattened himself in the shadows before looking out the wide
windows into the garden as the two Knights dropped down onto the
path behind Valentino. He waited for the appearance of Dambretti
and Christopher, but the Knight of the Apocalypse and the Knight of
the Serpent started off together after the Grand Master without
waiting. No one else joined them.

“Damn it!” he cursed under his breath.

Beaujold was upstairs with Maxie, probably
undergoing the same treatment that Dambretti had received. Merry
had not come down yet. Dambretti and Christopher Stewart were out
there somewhere. Here was the Mystic Healer and the Apocalyptic
Knight. And what on earth was the Grand Master planning to do with
the staff? Where were they going? Were they all looking for him? He
went back to the hall and squinted up at the second floor landing.
Merry, Merry, come on, he thought, as a feeling of dread
overwhelmed him. He went back to the window just as the two Knights
disappeared into the depths of the garden. Merry, Merry…

He ran down the hall and took the stairs two
at a time.

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

“Where could they have gone, Master?”
Christopher Stewart asked as he looked around the top of the bald
hill.

“I have no idea, little brother,” Lucio shook
his head. He was not above being relieved to have found that Sir
Ramsay and the blond were no longer in the observatory. He had been
further relieved to find no traces of blood inside. At least Mark
Andrew had not killed her there. His conscience was freed of that
thought. Perhaps he would not die so soon after all. Perhaps Ramsay
had seen the true nature of his remarks.

They started back down the trail toward the
house. There was nothing else to do and nowhere else to go. When
they reached the place where the door to the shelter was located,
Dambretti suddenly grabbed the apprentice and threw him behind an
upright pile of boulders, placing one hand over his mouth when they
came to rest against the stones. Someone was coming up the path.
They positioned themselves behind the rocks and waited.