Timothy H. Cook's Blog

 Chapter Two

Here is the "new" Chapter Two, as I have revised my plans!

Drachma looked across the room at his grandson, Tom, and knew he had made the right decision. In place of the gangly, somewhat awkward youth he had known, strode a confident, slender, dark-haired young man who gave off the aura of assurance bought by grueling private trials. His hair was damp, as was his overcoat, as he stepped into the hallway.

“Ah, Drachma of the Island, it is so good to see you! Tell me, do you bring any news of Master Robert? Also, what of their daughter? Is she everything her mother could have wanted?”

“So, Grandfather, even before I have the chance to take off my cloak and get settled, you have begun the interrogation,” he said with a smile.

“Well, just toss your cloak over the chair, and come, give me a hug, then, young man.”

Tom did just that, with gusto. Then he poured himself some of Drachma’s wine and settled into a soft leather chair, next to his grandfather.

“I shall begin, then with good news. Aye, Judy did deliver a most beautiful daughter, and they have named her Angelica.”

“Angelica, eh?” Drachma paused, then restarted with difficulty. “So… it would seem… that she, too, is marked for greatness.” He could imagine his old caregiver smiling down at him.

“Aye, it was to be either Maggie or Angelica. I am quite certain that either name would have pleased you. It seems they didn’t even consider boys’ names.” Tom looked over at Drachma, who remained speechless. “It was Alexandra, Cartho’s great granddaughter, who did name her.”

“Indeed,” said Drachma, when he could find his voice. “I did know that she was one of those sent. What can you tell me about her?”

“I was going to ask you the same question, grandfather, for it seems that this one was marked four years ago, by you and Falma, for your special brand of greatness. Is that not right?”

“Aye. And let me tell you about that. She became quite ill as a very young girl and was brought to Falma. She was very pale, had a fever, had bruises upon her body, but not from injuries. It seems that no one else in her family had any similar illness. As was usual, when he had something this troublesome which he could not understand, he called me to see if I had any insights. I understood that this young child was the great granddaughter of Cartho and had an illness for which I also had no explanation. I took one look at the two-year old and then asked him if he thought it worth doing what we had done for you in infancy, and that the window of time was now open.

“And so, with her mother’s permission, we took the child to the alchemist’s place and proceeded to find an orphan girl of about the same age at the other end of the window of time and carried out the exchange, with the imparting of knowledge that the two young girls would receive before their own time. And now, I found out that Amanda’s illness was incompletely understood by physicians of her time, and that it came back again, and this time it was incurable. But I also understand now that she was in touch somehow with Alexandra, and upon dying, she sent a gift to Alexandra, the nature of which I have yet to learn.”

“Aye. She did. And, interestingly, Craycroft also did notice the mark of greatness on this young child, and I believe that he would like to take on responsibility for Alexandra’s education. He told me of her when I saw him. But it would seem that there were parallels with my own experience, Grandfather.”

“I knew there were.”

“Aye, but in my time, it was Janie, Joshua’s mother, who granted me the powers.”

“She, who was Joshua’s voice…”

“Aye, but the parallels are otherwise striking. For if you consider that Joshua’s treatment was only partially successful in his brief lifetime, and that Janie, as his caregiver and recipient of the Derrymoor estate broach, did but yield that power and that symbol at the time of her own death.”

“And do you think that she was aware of its power? And do tell me that you have seen this broach with your own eyes, in the hands of its present owner.”

“Aye. That I have. It is presently with Master Charlie Stephens, and I believe that neither he nor Janie had any true knowledge of its power.” 

“And the drachma – it is also safe, and out of the hands of Master LeGace?”

“I believe you know the answer to that question. I do understand the drachma is now in the hands of Alonza Chavez, who presently serves the purpose Judy Morrison served years ago.”

“Aye. She is our link to their time, with Charlie Stephens now holding place here.”

“That is true, though he has no knowledge of his true purpose here. He does know that he has a major decision to make, yet he does not understand all its consequences. Amanda, by way of Alexandra has told him that much.”

“And we may not interfere in that process – that I do know you understand.” Drachma leaned forward, and in a voice hushed but forceful said, “as Master Robert did not understand that his decision would have consequences which would reverberate through the corridors of time.”

“And that does bring me to the matter of Master Robert. It seems he has been taken, apparently by forces of Guarneri and Patronis. I understand that he is being held prisoner for much the same reason as Melchior.”

“Do we know where he is being held?”

“Aye. He and Hermes are in Clear Bay…”

“At the barracks, no doubt.”

“Aye. Certainly, a foolish place to hold anyone prisoner. And Stefano will make certain that no harm comes to either of the prisoners. But I did think it wise to see just what Guarneri has in mind, before springing them loose.”

“Agreed. But watch Guarneri closely. I have known him a long time and have never found him to be in any way trustworthy. He will say one thing and do the opposite, without any thought of consequences. If you will remember his disappearance four years ago. And then, it was only Craycroft’s sense of justice and mercy which saved the man upon his return. Yet, I can perceive Craycroft’s reasoning. For he does provide us an avenue to study LeGace’s plans and moves.”

“Let me ask you, Grandfather, what do you know of the king’s plans in all of this? It would seem to me to be a matter too trivial for the king to bother with, yet his presence in our affairs could certainly make things thorny. I do not have direct knowledge, yet I do hear that the king might be sending an emissary up our way.”

“I too have no definite knowledge, but there are certainly rumors of Henry’s involvement. At least to make certain that his flow of Shepperton pots is not interrupted. Yet, Guarneri and Patronis might have the means of bending his ear toward Shepperton, and that would be a complication we do not need at this time.” 

Tom sat back, sipped his wine, and looked up at the ceiling for a time. “Oh, how I miss Falma. His advice was of such forceful eloquence.”

Forceful eloquence, the words stung Drachma. This was not the musing of adolescence.

“Let me tell you, my Drachma of the Island, I, too, miss Falma, though I do believe I shall be joining him again soon. And that does give me peace – that, and my finding in you someone who has now grown into the role superbly. But Falma and I have grown together through the years, as it was not without mighty trials that both of us endured. I am able, with some certainty, to say that he also saw in you that magnificent promise being fulfilled.

“And I do know,” Drachma continued, “that you and Falma did work together to get Lady Marilyn across the chasm. What are you able to tell me about her? And do you know what she brings to us that makes her unique?”

“Ah, Marilyn. She is a true treasure. But subtle, I would say. Tell me, what do you remember of her?”

“As you know, I was with her only briefly, as she was the one who lost her husband – it was mainly in that setting that I had opportunity to see her, and to indirectly present her with the drachma, and with words of encouragement, to indicate that it was her Robert that was well and in our world.”

“And thus it was, until our more recent foray into their world, in which Marilyn’s drachma was lost, then she came to our world, only to find her Robert was in some peril. And the drachma was now left in the hands of someone else.”

At this, Drachma smiled slightly, took a sip of his wine and, looking up at the ceiling, said softly, “I can see Falma’s hand in all of this.”

“Aye. I also feel his presence in this affair, as I also feel certain that he knew what he was doing in picking out Marilyn, as he knew she had that certain level of greatness required, if you will, for what he had in mind.”

“And what would that be, oh, Drachma of the Island?”

“Simply put, she is to be our unknown and unconquerable force, in our battle yet to come with Master Legace.”

“Said with much prescience, my grandson.”

For a while, they both sat in silence. Then Drachma said, “Now, Tom, give me your hand, and come with me. There is something I must show you.”

Tom came over to Drachma and helped him to get up. 

“Thank you. Now come with me.” Drachma took Tom down a little used hallway, toward the back of the manor house, and into a small room to the right. Inside the room, which was filled with numerous books, charts and maps, toward the back wall was an even smaller door. Drachma took the torch from the wall and opened the small door. “My hideaway – in here.”

What was on the other side of the door was an enclave with two chairs, a desk with quills, ink and some scattered papers. Drachma put the torch on the hanger on the near wall. He then went over to the desk, took the candle, which was in its holder, and after lighting the candle went back to the desk. He sat down in one of the chairs, as he bade Tom to sit in the other. He then rifled through the papers, pulled out one and handed it to Tom.

Tom studied the paper, then with widening eyes said to Drachma, “Is this what I perceive it to be?”

“Aye, it is. And you shall have to speak with Chauncey about the other half.”

“Grandfather, this has the power to turn all of our fortunes…”

“Why do you suppose I have kept it packed away here all this time?”

Well, here is the next chapter of Shepperton's Sacrifice, Heir of Drachma, Book Three. In this chapter I've brought back our intrepid duo of the twentieth century doings, which somehow intertwines with the fifteenth century - more to come!

 Chapter Three

 

 

Lonnie stepped into her second floor apartment and noticed the smell of stale food. Laying her mail on the table, she moved across her living area to open a window and get some air inside. As she stood at the open window, she noticed that near where she had parked her car, a strange grey sedan was now parking. This sight sent a chill down her spine as she watched.

 

No, this can’t be, she thought, it really can’t be the same car. She continued to watch and noticed a man in dark clothing in the driver’s seat, but could not see well enough to know if it was the same man. Seeing the man still sitting in the driver’s seat and not getting out made her nervous. She went to her phone and dialed Christine’s number.

 

“Oh, hi, Chris. It’s me Lonnie. Where are you right now? Just in your car? Thirty fifth street, yeah, that’s close…  It may be nothing, but I think it may be him. He’s just sitting in the car. Got me worried… Well, I would appreciate that… No, I don’t have any idea.” 

 

She hung up the phone, relieved that Christine would be over. Deciding to go back to watching from her window, she noticed her mail. She hesitated. On top of the pile was an envelope, but it seemed strange. There was just her name, and no address. There was no stamp, and no indication of anything else. It felt strange in her hand, somewhat rough, but she could feel the oldness of the paper. And when she opened it it gave off an aroma which made her cough. It was as if something dead had been released in her hands. She dropped the envelope without reading the note inside.

 

Immediately, she went to the kitchen sink, and washed her hands, as if scrubbing her hands could wipe off the stench. She began to cry.

 

“Oh, Christina, help,” she said quietly between sobs. “Can you come just a bit faster? I need you here.”

 

Then from outside she heard a loud shot, and a crashing sound as the bullet smashed her window. She was instantly paralyzed with dread. This was too much for her, and she slumped down in a kitchen chair, afraid to move or do anything at all.

 

The wailing of a siren shook her from her stupor. The sound was coming closer, she could tell. It offered a slender bit of hope. Shakily she got up, and went over to the other window, in the bathroom, and peered out to see the grey sedan quickly pulling out and heading down the road, with the unmarked police car coming up lights flashing and the siren blaring. The car stopped by her apartment building, and she could see that Christine got out, and came into her building, gun drawn in her right hand, and speaking into a walkie-talkie with her left hand.

 

Her doorbell rang and she opened up her doorway to Christine, who came hurrying up the stairs.

 

“What happened,” Christine asked, “are you all right? I heard the shot as I was coming up the road. I did get his license plate number as he sped away.”

 

“I’m alright physically, but as you can see, my window is shattered, and so are my nerves!”

 

“Hmm, well I can see you’re upset…”

 

“Yeah, a real basket case right now.”

 

“Let me make this call, then you can tell me all about all this.”

 

Christine made the call to her station, asking for back-up, and telling them that they should be on the lookout for a grey Oldsmobile with the Ohio license number OJT 509, and that he was headed north on Lexington. After making her call, she sat down and indicated to Lonnie to do the same.

 

“Okay, I can see that you’re physically alright, but obviously shaken, Lonnie. So, tell me everything that happened, from the time we last spoke together.”

 

Lonnie shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “All right, then, I’ll try to do that. After we had the coffee, I just got into my car, and my mind was whirling with all that happened at Amanda’s funeral. I guess that I just got into my car and automatically drove home. To be honest, I didn’t notice whether I was being followed or anything. I just drove here, picked up my mail and came upstairs. I then went to the window and opened it slightly to get some air in here. And then I noticed the car, which was parked just a few spaces behind my own. That’s when I called you. But next I looked at my mail, and here was this envelope with no stamp or anything but my name on it. I opened it but out came this odor like something dead. So, I dropped it – it’s over there.” She indicated with her hand. “I didn’t see what was in there – I just couldn’t look.

 

“I rushed over to the sink and washed my hands, and I decided to go back to the window – no not that one, the one in the bathroom, and that’s when I heard the shot, and saw the car peeling away.”

 

Christine putt on some gloves which she kept in her purse, and she went over to where the envelope was on the floor. Cautiously she picked it up, and as she opened it further, she noticed the odor. “Phew,” she said, “it really reeks! Now, you just touched the outer envelope, and didn’t touch the paper inside, right?”

 

“Yeah, that’s right, and I have no idea what’s inside.”

 

“Well, that’s good – it’ll help with our fingerprint guys. But I do feel we’ve got to see what’s written inside.”

 

“Be my guest, Chris.”

 

Christine reopened the envelope and carefully pulled out the paper inside, wrinkling her nose as she did so. On the inside was a handwritten note, in a simple declarative script. She read the note, then said, “Oh my, Lonnie, this is true evil….”

 

“Then, I better look….”

 

“I’ll hold it – I’ve got gloves on.”

 

The note said, in its garish simplicity:

 

                        Alonza,

                        Let me tell you by way of my warning shot that you should

                        heed well this threat:

                        I have knowledge of your man which you do not.

                        Your complicity and silence are needed.

                        Be advised that any involvement with the police

                        will be treated as if you do not care for the lives

                        involved. You have been warned.

A.LeGace

 

“Now, if this, along with the bullet, don’t constitute a threat on your life,” Chris almost spat the message out. “And, by now, you can’t help but get us involved. I’ll give this to the crime scene guys for fingerprints. And we’ve put out an APB on the car. My only hope is that we can find him before he gets another chance to do anything more.”

 

“But Chris, the note says that he knows about Charlie – it sure makes me wonder what he knows, and what powers he has.”

 

“If he’s meaning Charlie,” Christine noted. “You know Charlie’s not here…?”

 

“Who else could he be referring to?”

 

“I really can’t say, Lonnie. He’s obviously assuming that you do know, as he specified in the note that it’s your man he’s referring to.”

 

“What could he mean, and what knowledge could he have? This has gotten me spooked.” 

 

“Well, I can tell you, Lonnie, that after our back-up arrives, we’ve got to get you another place to stay. Why don’t we go down to the station, and from there, figure it out. For now, how about getting some of what you’ll need for the next few days. After the CSI folks get here, you can come with me.”

 

Lonnie thought about this, then said, “I’ll need my car, but I’ll follow you down to the police station. Oh, man, this has really gotten to me – and Charlie – what am I to think? There ought to be some way of communicating with him – but I’ve got nothing. Nothing but worry….”

 

Her doorbell rang, and Lonnie jumped at the sound.

 

Christine calmly placed her hand on Lonnie’s arm, and said, “that must be the back-up I asked for. How do I let them in?”

 

“Oh, I got spooked. Here, I’ll let them in.” Lonnie got up and pressed a button on her wall, and said, “come on in. It’s open now.”

 

Somewhat shakily she sat back down, as Christine got up and went to the door to let the two uniformed officers enter.

 

After introductions the two burly men got down to business, with one taking photos, and the other surveying the rooms and getting details from Christine.

 

“Here, Mike, this is the bullet entry point.” the younger one said, indicating with his camera a place on the far wall.

 

“Yep. It sure is.” Then he opened his tool bag and got out some instruments that Lonnie had never seen.

 

“Lonnie, why don’t you go ahead and gather your stuff? We’ll go down to the station and let these men do their thing. And we can reconnect later if we need to.”

 

The trip to the police station was filled with all sorts of questions running around in Lonnie’s head as she tried to wrap her mind around this most evil afternoon. What am I supposed to do and to think? Oh, Charlie, If only I could get in touch with you. Warn you or something – but I don’t even know if what I do is harmful. How can you be gone at this time?

 

When she arrived at the station she got out of her car and looked around nervously, but almost didn’t see that there was something on her passenger seat. She opened the passenger door and stooped down to pick up a small, warm, and most fragrant loaf of bread. What in the world? Who could have left this on my seat? As she walked into the grey police station, clutching her loaf, she heard something so beautiful in the distance, something that sounded like the melody from her time with Charlie, played on a harp. She began to cry quietly as she walked into the station.

 

 

Well, here is the next chapter of Shepperton's Sacrifice, Heir of Drachma, Book Three. In this chapter I've brought back our intrepid duo of the twentieth century doings, which somehow intertwines with the fifteenth century - more to come!

 Chapter Two

 

 

Lonnie stepped into her second floor apartment and noticed the smell of stale food. Laying her mail on the table, she moved across her living area to open a window and get some air inside. As she stood at the open window, she noticed that near where she had parked her car, a strange grey sedan was now parking. This sight sent a chill down her spine as she watched.

 

No, this can’t be, she thought, it really can’t be the same car. She continued to watch and noticed a man in dark clothing in the driver’s seat, but could not see well enough to know if it was the same man. Seeing the man still sitting in the driver’s seat and not getting out made her nervous. She went to her phone and dialed Christine’s number.

 

“Oh, hi, Chris. It’s me Lonnie. Where are you right now? Just in your car? Thirty fifth street, yeah, that’s close…  It may be nothing, but I think it may be him. He’s just sitting in the car. Got me worried… Well, I would appreciate that… No, I don’t have any idea.” 

 

She hung up the phone, relieved that Christine would be over. Deciding to go back to watching from her window, she noticed her mail. She hesitated. On top of the pile was an envelope, but it seemed strange. There was just her name, and no address. There was no stamp, and no indication of anything else. It felt strange in her hand, somewhat rough, but she could feel the oldness of the paper. And when she opened it it gave off an aroma which made her cough. It was as if something dead had been released in her hands. She dropped the envelope without reading the note inside.

 

Immediately, she went to the kitchen sink, and washed her hands, as if scrubbing her hands could wipe off the stench. She began to cry.

 

“Oh, Christina, help,” she said quietly between sobs. “Can you come just a bit faster? I need you here.”

 

Then from outside she heard a loud shot, and a crashing sound as the bullet smashed her window. She was instantly paralyzed with dread. This was too much for her, and she slumped down in a kitchen chair, afraid to move or do anything at all.

 

The wailing of a siren shook her from her stupor. The sound was coming closer, she could tell. It offered a slender bit of hope. Shakily she got up, and went over to the other window, in the bathroom, and peered out to see the grey sedan quickly pulling out and heading down the road, with the unmarked police car coming up lights flashing and the siren blaring. The car stopped by her apartment building, and she could see that Christine got out, and came into her building, gun drawn in her right hand, and speaking into a walkie-talkie with her left hand.

 

Her doorbell rang and she opened up her doorway to Christine, who came hurrying up the stairs.

 

“What happened,” Christine asked, “are you all right? I heard the shot as I was coming up the road. I did get his license plate number as he sped away.”

 

“I’m alright physically, but as you can see, my window is shattered, and so are my nerves!”

 

“Hmm, well I can see you’re upset…”

 

“Yeah, a real basket case right now.”

 

“Let me make this call, then you can tell me all about all this.”

 

Christine made the call to her station, asking for back-up, and telling them that they should be on the lookout for a grey Oldsmobile with the Ohio license number OJT 509, and that he was headed north on Lexington. After making her call, she sat down and indicated to Lonnie to do the same.

 

“Okay, I can see that you’re physically alright, but obviously shaken, Lonnie. So, tell me everything that happened, from the time we last spoke together.”

 

Lonnie shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “All right, then, I’ll try to do that. After we had the coffee, I just got into my car, and my mind was whirling with all that happened at Amanda’s funeral. I guess that I just got into my car and automatically drove home. To be honest, I didn’t notice whether I was being followed or anything. I just drove here, picked up my mail and came upstairs. I then went to the window and opened it slightly to get some air in here. And then I noticed the car, which was parked just a few spaces behind my own. That’s when I called you. But next I looked at my mail, and here was this envelope with no stamp or anything but my name on it. I opened it but out came this odor like something dead. So, I dropped it – it’s over there.” She indicated with her hand. “I didn’t see what was in there – I just couldn’t look.

 

“I rushed over to the sink and washed my hands, and I decided to go back to the window – no not that one, the one in the bathroom, and that’s when I heard the shot, and saw the car peeling away.”

 

Christine putt on some gloves which she kept in her purse, and she went over to where the envelope was on the floor. Cautiously she picked it up, and as she opened it further, she noticed the odor. “Phew,” she said, “it really reeks! Now, you just touched the outer envelope, and didn’t touch the paper inside, right?”

 

“Yeah, that’s right, and I have no idea what’s inside.”

 

“Well, that’s good – it’ll help with our fingerprint guys. But I do feel we’ve got to see what’s written inside.”

 

“Be my guest, Chris.”

 

Christine reopened the envelope and carefully pulled out the paper inside, wrinkling her nose as she did so. On the inside was a handwritten note, in a simple declarative script. She read the note, then said, “Oh my, Lonnie, this is true evil….”

 

“Then, I better look….”

 

“I’ll hold it – I’ve got gloves on.”

 

The note said, in its garish simplicity:

 

                        Alonza,

                        Let me tell you by way of my warning shot that you should

                        heed well this threat:

                        I have knowledge of your man which you do not.

                        Your complicity and silence are needed.

                        Be advised that any involvement with the police

                        will be treated as if you do not care for the lives

                        involved. You have been warned.

A.LeGace

 

“Now, if this, along with the bullet, don’t constitute a threat on your life,” Chris almost spat the message out. “And, by now, you can’t help but get us involved. I’ll give this to the crime scene guys for fingerprints. And we’ve put out an APB on the car. My only hope is that we can find him before he gets another chance to do anything more.”

 

“But Chris, the note says that he knows about Charlie – it sure makes me wonder what he knows, and what powers he has.”

 

“If he’s meaning Charlie,” Christine noted. “You know Charlie’s not here…?”

 

“Who else could he be referring to?”

 

“I really can’t say, Lonnie. He’s obviously assuming that you do know, as he specified in the note that it’s your man he’s referring to.”

 

“What could he mean, and what knowledge could he have? This has gotten me spooked.” 

 

“Well, I can tell you, Lonnie, that after our back-up arrives, we’ve got to get you another place to stay. Why don’t we go down to the station, and from there, figure it out. For now, how about getting some of what you’ll need for the next few days. After the CSI folks get here, you can come with me.”

 

Lonnie thought about this, then said, “I’ll need my car, but I’ll follow you down to the police station. Oh, man, this has really gotten to me – and Charlie – what am I to think? There ought to be some way of communicating with him – but I’ve got nothing. Nothing but worry….”

 

Her doorbell rang, and Lonnie jumped at the sound.

 

Christine calmly placed her hand on Lonnie’s arm, and said, “that must be the back-up I asked for. How do I let them in?”

 

“Oh, I got spooked. Here, I’ll let them in.” Lonnie got up and pressed a button on her wall, and said, “come on in. It’s open now.”

 

Somewhat shakily she sat back down, as Christine got up and went to the door to let the two uniformed officers enter.

 

After introductions the two burly men got down to business, with one taking photos, and the other surveying the rooms and getting details from Christine.

 

“Here, Mike, this is the bullet entry point.” the younger one said, indicating with his camera a place on the far wall.

 

“Yep. It sure is.” Then he opened his tool bag and got out some instruments that Lonnie had never seen.

 

“Lonnie, why don’t you go ahead and gather your stuff? We’ll go down to the station and let these men do their thing. And we can reconnect later if we need to.”

 

The trip to the police station was filled with all sorts of questions running around in Lonnie’s head as she tried to wrap her mind around this most evil afternoon. What am I supposed to do and to think? Oh, Charlie, If only I could get in touch with you. Warn you or something – but I don’t even know if what I do is harmful. How can you be gone at this time?

 

When she arrived at the station she got out of her car and looked around nervously, but almost didn’t see that there was something on her passenger seat. She opened the passenger door and stooped down to pick up a small, warm, and most fragrant loaf of bread. What in the world? Who could have left this on my seat? As she walked into the grey police station, clutching her loaf, she heard something so beautiful in the distance, something that sounded like the melody from her time with Charlie, played on a harp. She began to cry quietly as she walked into the station.

 

 

  Here is the new start of Book Three. There is more to come!

 

 

 

 

Shepperton’s Sacrifice

Heir of Drachma

Book Three

 

Chapter One

 

 

 

Charlie Stephens was sitting down with Alex and was perplexed. His circumstances had changed again–this whole thing with Diego, with Alex, Judy and her baby, Bob and his relationship to Marilyn, and his own decision – just what was he supposed to do? He felt like he was floating in a large body of water, in a constant state of uncertainty and could not see any landmarks to help him find his way.

 

“Tell me, Alex,” he said, “just what does all this mean? Where am I to fit in with you all?” Why was he talking to this six-year-old? How did he expect her to be able to answer the voices of doubt?

 

“Why don’ ye tell me about a bit more o’ yer past life? What was yer job, an’ how did it change the others around ye?” She said all this with a knowing touch in her voice, one which said he was in a safe place.

 

“Well, my job was that of a reporter. That is, I would seek out stories of what other people were doing, and then talk about them on television….”

 

“Television?”

 

“Ah dear Alex, television is one of those things that, if I were to show you, you would say, “that’s magic.” It’s a way of telling people all around your country, and even around the world, of what you have discovered. Mind you, TV as we call it can be useful, it can be beautiful but in certain hands it can also become an instrument of evil.”

 

“Do go on. Tell me more of this magic. And tell me of yer job, an’ how you kept it beautiful an’ not evil.”

 

“And how do you know that I did that?”

 

“Oh, Charlie! Ye don’ need to ask. Fer I can see yer soul is na’ made o’ such. Why don’ ye tell me of things that ye made which were beautiful.”

 

“I can tell you about two TV specials which I put together. The first you know about. It was the investigation of abused children, and it involved Francine. That one took me a while to recover from. I had actually withdrawn into my own shell after the governor gave me a special commendation, and when I found out what a slime bag he really was. Then about four years ago, I was just going about my business when I stumbled upon this story of Dr. Gilsen and nurse Judy Morrison. I saw in this an opportunity to uncover a story of infidelity and possibly worse. Boy was I wrong! Uncovering that story brought me into contact with Marilyn Gilsen, and since then Janie and Earl Crabtree, Christine Lewinsky, Carlo Vincente and the earl of Shepperton. I decided to tell the world the story I had stumbled upon and how pursuing it changed even me, and I brought it to television. It was this special which truly altered my life – this… and Marilyn Gilsen.”

 

Charlie paused, took a drink of his tea. He reached into his jacket pocket and took out his notebook. As he did so the drawing fell out. 

 

Alex noticed. “May I see what ye’ve got there, Charlie?”

 

Silently, he took the drawing and handed it to Alex who studied it carefully. After looking it over, she smiled and said, “This is the work of Janie, no?”

 

“Of course it is, and somehow you knew about it and what it represented. She made it without having seen the castle or any drawing of it. It makes me believe there is something or someone else involved which has been steering me toward some sort of grand concussion here upon this island. Isn’t there?”

 

Alex simply smiled in answer. “Do go on, Charlie fer I think that ye’re getting’ close t’ the heart o’ the matter.”

 

Charlie took another sip from his tea, then resumed. “As I was saying, Alexandra, this little notebook is where I keep all the things which I hear from those I interview. It is their own words and descriptions of events. If you would like you may see it, if you can read it.” Then he hesitated. “Can you read, Alex?”

 

“Nay, I canna’ read. But I am able to tell the truth of the matter if ye do read me some of what ye’ve written in yer book. Are there any more pi’tures?”

 

“No. No more pictures I’m afraid. But here’s an example of something that I wrote down. While still in my time, I was able to record the words of the earl of Shepperton. He was giving me some advice before my coming here. He based it on his own memories and experience, and he told me whom to trust and whom to be wary of. I must say his advice has been valuable indeed. And no, he didn’t mention you. He did talk of Drachma, Tom, Kerlin, and Craycroft. Then he mentioned Falma. All of these he said would not steer me wrong. But he did also mention Antoine LeGace, and he said in no way was I to trust him and I should avoid him, if at all possible. He also indicated that this LeGace fellow has done some terrible things, which your prince confirmed, and that LeGace was trying to take over this island and would stop at nothing to get his own way.”

 

“Tell me, Charlie, is all that in yer notes?”

 

“Oh, it certainly is, Alex. I wouldn’t go anywhere without this little notebook. Now, you tell me something that I’m curious about. Tell me about this fellow Craycroft. Just anything you can tell me about who he is, where he came from, and how a healer became lord of this island. For it seems that his story will tell me a lot about this island and what makes it so special.”

 

“What I can tell ye is that he began as a page o’ the old earl, back in the day. It was me great gran’father, Cartho who was the castle’s own healer, who noticed what a smart lad this fellow named Craycroft was, an’ he took ‘im aside an’ taught ‘im all the things ‘bout bein’ a healer.”

 

“Extraordinary, my little one! To think that he started out as a page, as did Tom himself, and now to see where they both got in their own lifetimes. It seems no wonder then, why the likes of LeGace, and even the king of England would want to get this little island for themselves.”

 

“Aye, but it be more likely that they’re both after the pots, or so me Mum tol’ me.”

 

“The pots…?”  

 

So, Charlie got the story of the wondrous pots of Shepperton from none other than little Alexandra, who pointed out that he was now part of their story, having been so adopted. Now it was soon up to him to decide the fate of the other adoptees.

 

“Let me ask you, Alex,” he said, digging in his pocket. He pulled out his small amulet and handed it to her. “What could you possibly tell me about this? This was something I got from Janie before she died.  The earl of Derrymoor and Craycroft both saw it and they both thought it was special, but neither one said anything more. Janie indicated that its meaning was something I would find out about after I got here….”

 

“So now you wan’ me t’ tell ye its true meanin’. Is that right?” She looked again at the small scrimshaw piece in her hand, held it up toward the light and handed it back to Charlie.

 

“I guess so.”

 

“What I’m about t’ tell ye is that this broach let ye come to us. In your own world there are pow’rful people and pow’rful things who you don’ even know about. An’ here only a few people who do know, but who are only sometimes able to use ‘em. They’re the special ones, like Falma, an’ Drachma, but also Master LeGace. In their hands these special things an’ special people can do things no ord’nery person can do.”

 

“What about you?”

 

“It’s ‘cause o’ Drachma an’ Falma. That be all I can tell ye fer now.”

 

Charlie was silent and took another drink of his tea, thinking about what this little girl had told him. Then he thought again of Janie and Falma; how Falma had said from the back seat of his car that he needed to go see Janie, that she had something for him. Before she died, she handed him the broach and kissed him. And ever since then he had been swept along in this rushing current of time. Then the thought hit him – the coin, the drachma!

 

“Charlie,” said Alex quietly. “It looks t’ me like ye thought of something.”

 

“Indeed, I did. I just thought of the little coin, a drachma, now in Lonnie’s possession. How it had been such a significant item for Marilyn. It seemed that the coin had a mind of its own, and significance beyond just a beautiful token. Was it something like this broach?”

 

“It sounds like somethin’ ye’ll have t’ ask Tom about. I know he’d like t’ talk t’ ye about that.”

 

“It seems to me, my little one, that you do know things, yet are only telling me part of the story. Is that true?”

 

“There are some things I am able t’ tell ye, but there be other things too deep fer me t’ see. Things that ye must find fer yerself. There be danger….”

 

“Danger?” Charlie thought for a moment. “Of course, there’s danger.”

 

 

 

 

Gathered inside the gate of Castle Kearney at sunrise, the group consisted of Chauncey, Stoneheft, Gilbert, Eustace, and the newly recovered Diego. To that motley assortment was added Justinian for the purpose of security. Their plan was to travel to Shepperton Castle and to meet with Craycroft and Kerlin. They were all aware of the threat posed by LeGace and wanted to be helpful in any way possible. Each had been given a sword and a smaller knife. Justinian knew that this group had been tested and seasoned by their recent history.

 

Prince Diego was significantly healed and knew his expertise would be useful to Shepperton and felt it his responsibility to be where he could be of the most use. He felt that Alexandra should remain in Kearney with Judy, Diane and Charlie. He had sat down with her and explained his thinking the prior evening. To his surprise, Alex understood perfectly. She knew that her prince would be necessary elsewhere, and she had been there for him when he needed her the most. And beside that she had Charlie to “deal with.” Diego smiled at this little girl, reached down, kissed her forehead and said, “you go with God, my Alexandra. You are one of His special angels.”

 

She responded by giving him a warm hug and whispering to him, saying, “I’ll always love you, my prince!”

 

Diego was remembering all that fondly, as he said to the men assembled there, “Come now, my comrades, we must be going. I do believe Craycroft and all Shepperton await.”

 

Justinian agreed, checked his supplies, saluted the guards at the gate, and led his men out into the darkness of the forest. 

 

 

 

 

Kerlin stared straight ahead at the small but imposing figure of Antoine LeGace. Behind Kerlin, in a semicircle, were the guards and Leonardo. 

 

“So, Master Kerlin, do you have with you the money and the note?”

 

“Aye, I have.” The large Forest Guard reached into his tunic, and produced a thick envelope, which he threw down onto the table. As he did so, he could see, at the edge of his vision a brief glimpse of the waif, with her features giving off a faint blue light. He turned his head toward her, only to find that she had disappeared into the evening, but in her place was a faint hint of the forest and the aroma of newly turned earth.

 

LeGace took the envelope, and with his knife he cut through the seal, and within there was a folded sheet of paper. LeGace opened the paper and read the note which said:

            

            Master LeGace,

 

            This shall be our response to thy list of demands:

 

            Firstly, thou hadst not properly advised the ruling authority of the Island of Shepperton.

            Being a senior member of the ruling Council, I shall tell thee that it be myself that thou

            shouldst speak with in matters which concern our Island and its governance. Thy method

            of delivery, having taken the life of one of our own esteemed persons, we have found to

            be most intolerable, and we consider it a matter most execrable!

 

            Secondly, we of the ruling Council do declare thy requests are therefore null and void.

 

            Thirdly, thy actions are considered an act of war, so be ye forewarned, and thy life to

            be forfeit!

 

            Sworn hereby,

 

            Master Rust

            Master Genet

            Master Silvo

            Master Fitzgibbon

            Master Donovan

 

LeGace’s face was a mask of evil, with a most malicious smile as he said to Kerlin, “Well, then, Master Kerlin, I do see that your Councilors have declared war upon this, thy island. Well, I say so be it! Guards, take this prisoner to the brig, while I decide the fate of the two of them.”

Well, here it is - the start of a new book in the series (for real). After trying to decide where to end Book Two and to start Book Three.

Well, sorry about this, but I decided on something newer, so this is actually the final chapter of Book Two, and I began a new Book Three - soon to be seen...

Center Game

Heir of Drachma

Book Two

 

Chapter Thirty Eight

 

 

 

 

All was now quiet in Drachma’s abode. He sat in his chair in the study, with his glass of wine at his side. A gentle breeze blew in from the open window, carrying with it the scent of newly turned earth. This caused him to stop and pay attention. He had seen to it that Tom was dispatched along with a contingent of his best fighting men earlier in the day. There seemed no one else, however, he could sense the presence of another person in the room. He was so sure of it that he spoke aloud.

 

“Whoever is in here, I ask that you identify yourself, for I do know you are here with me.”

 

A voice came in on the breeze, a gentle, soothing voice. “Of course, you know me, my good friend. I am here to talk to you for the last time.”

 

“Falma!? Ah, if I could but see you.”

 

“That is not to be this time, my friend, but I too am anxious to see you. And you know I shall, but soon.”

 

“How soon? When?”

 

“You know I cannot say, especially as my own sense of time is now different from yours. But let me talk to you about what is happening in my beloved Shepperton - happening now.”

 

“Do tell, my friend. You obviously can see more than Tom or I and it is with some trepidation that I ask – are we doing right this night?”

 

“Alas, I am unable to say, as there are persons whose actions and intentions I am unable to see. However, knowing what I do, I can safely say that your persons are indeed doing what they perceive to be right. And further, that Tom shall soon be your true successor.”

 

“What do you need, then, to tell me, so I may write it down for young Tom?”

 

“You may tell him that Master Charlie shall be the one whose decision will this time be the deciding note, and that the future of several persons will depend upon his deciding. The persons so affected will include the lady Marilyn, but also the fates of Master Robert, the lady Judy, and her newborn. But it shall also decide the futures of persons in his own time and shall include the earl of Shepperton (who is yet alive), Christine Lewinsky and Alonza Chavez. And that, further, it shall determine (though I am unable to tell you just now) a descendant of Antoine LeGace.”

 

“Is that so? I suspected as much. And I do assume that you have taken that into consideration, have you not?”

 

“Of course, my friend. And both Christine Lewinsky and Alonza Chavez have now become aware of his presence, and I do feel certain of their ability to take on that challenge.”

 

“So, Tom was right to include them both.”

 

“Indeed, he was. And so, we must leave it in the hands of those chosen for now.”

 

“And I am then able to sleep as one who has done what he may, with what he has been given.”

 

“Aye, my dear friend. Grace be with thee.”

 

Then, as the breeze blew through his room, taking Falma with it, Drachma took out of his drawer, a sheet of paper and a pen from its inkwell, he began writing his last letter to Tom.

 

            To my dearest grandson, Drachma of the Island,

 

                        I have just been visited by the spirit of Falma, and he brings his greetings

                        to you, who must now take over my duties to Shepperton. Now, Falma told

                        me of things which I now confer to you, as well as confirmation of things

                        which I suspected.

 

                        Falma did tell of Master Charlie, who is to make the decision of staying or going.

                        And I know you shall be there to determine when he makes his decision, as my 

protégé, this I do know. I remain uncertain as to whether to tell him of the power of the broach which I know he has. That shall be for you and him to decide.

 

Only this time his decision shall affect a number of others, including Master Robert, Marilyn, the Lady Judy, their own newborn, as well as persons in both times. He also told of a new threat – that of a descendant of Master LeGace, and that he has seen to it that Christine and Alonza from Master Robert’s time have been alerted

to his presence, but he did not tell me more of this. I assume that you have confidence in these two women, and that is good. But beware of the evil one!

 

Also, you now know where the deed is kept

.

I know, my grandson, that you shall possess that power which you need.

 

Your everlasting friend and grandfather,

 

Drachma

                        

 

 

 

Tom and his select forest guards turned the corner and headed toward Shepperton. He knew where he had to go, and what he had to do. His only concern for the moment was what LeGace was planning. He was disinclined to believe what that evil one had written and felt with some certainty that he might be riding into a trap. As they approached the castle, up the hill on the right, he turned and said to his men, “me good men, this shall be your moment in time. What this agent of the evil one has decided I am not able to say, but I know this – that he has written a lie, but whatever the truth is, I am on the side of truth. Let us meet with Kerlin and Cayman, before proceeding to our destination.”

 

With that, he turned sharply to the right, and led his men up to the castle gate. There he saw Kerlin, along with Cayman, Derrymoor and Gregorio, along with their own riders, just within the gate.

 

“Ah, my young man,” said Kerlin. “We had news that you were coming from the keepers of the watch. It is good to see you again! I know that my own measure of anxiety is assuaged by your presence. My, how things have changed with you since our first meeting, eh?”

 

“As you say, Kerlin. To this day I do remember our first meeting. How could I not? There you were, all dressed as a forest guard, looking like you could but handle anything that was thrown in your direction. But it seems that Falma, Drachma and the forces of good and evil had designs that were too much to even think of for us.”

 

“And here we are today, under similar circumstances, but in such different roles, or so it seems, no?”

 

“Indeed! Now, tell me of the plans again, so that we might all be prepared. I do think that, with Master Gregorio and his men as with Derrymoor and his fighters, we should be able to avoid any unnecessary entanglements.”

 

Tom got down off his horse, as did Kerlin, and the two of them conferred, along with Derrymoor and Gregorio. Their meeting was brief, but obviously intense. For those observing, it only underscored the importance of this meeting. After conferring, Tom addressed the gathered forces, and said, “My dear comrades, we are here to deal with the purest evil. This one man has decided that he alone is the one to rule our island. It is no secret that I, as well as Drachma and the former earl of Shepperton have thrown our allegiance to Master Craycroft. And I assume that you, too, have chosen this path as well. And further I know that you have seen the letter, or at least have heard of the letter written to Master Craycroft. And further, that you have heard of the terrible thing he did to Master Tingley. For all this we seek revenge! Now, you all know where you are to be, and what you must all do under the circumstances you find yourselves in. Do any have questions of their role?”

 

Tom waited and looked out at his comrades. Their eyes burned with certainty of purpose, but none spoke. Tom nodded, then he said, “very well, my fellows, and so we go out with all our hearts and minds as one. This shall be for Kerlin, our lord Craycroft, our earl, and also for Drachma!”

 

“Aye, aye!” Came the voices of the men. It was then that Kerlin left, going out the main gate, and heading toward Reordan Manor. He was followed by Gregorio’s men, who scattered about, seemingly without order, but eventually heading toward the manor as well. The others left by the other gate, in the back of the castle, splitting up into three groups, before heading toward the manor house as well.

 

All was quiet as Kerlin approached Reordan Manor. It was evening, and the darkening sky was moonless. A breeze from the ocean carried the scent of the fisheries and seaweed. Before going up the path, Kerlin looked about him quickly, and to his satisfaction, saw that Gregorio’s men had, in fact, taken up their positions. He trusted that Tom’s and Derrymoor’s men were also in place. He stopped at the gate, where an armed guard, who looked familiar bade him halt. The man was dressed in a dark uniform, and Kerlin stood relaxed, but at attention. Then it came to Kerlin, that this was, indeed, Michel. Now, what has he done, and who did he let know that he had changed his allegiance? That is something I must look into if I am able.

 

Michel certainly recognized Kerlin, his former commander, yet said nothing to give any inkling of what had transpired in the past four years. He simply said, “Now ye are here per the request o’ Master LeGace. D’ye have any weapons upon yer person?”

 

“Nay, of course not.” And with that Kerlin allowed a search of his person for any hidden weapons, all the while keeping an expert eye on Michel, but then he saw the eyes of another in the guard house but could not tell to whom they belonged. All told they were the eyes of youth, but also the eyes of ancient wisdom. He looked away, and then back, and they were gone. But what remained was the smell of the ancient forest coming in from the open window. Then Kerlin smiled, as this was truly a sign.

 

“Come this way,” said Michel, “but be not a fool to think that ye can get away with anything.”

 

Michel led Kerlin to the manor house, up the stairs, and into the huge foyer. Kerlin had never seen the inside of Reordan Manor before, and his first impression was that of foolish misplaced elegance. He was led into one of the rooms at the back of the grand foyer. There, behind the desk sat Leonardo, who looked at Kerlin with utter derision.

 

“So, you have come, Kerlin. I do not have to tell you that your presence has been duly noted, and did you bring the two articles that my master requested?”

 

“Aye, I have them here. But I would request that you deliver them in my presence to your Master LeGace.”

 

“That will not be necessary, as he is not here.”

 

“Indeed? I do feel it shall be necessary.” Kerlin replied calmly, “this is too big an issue for you alone.”

 

“Well, then I insist that you come with me, as I shall take you to him. I do assume that you are unarmed, and that I shall have no trouble with you.”

 

“Indeed, I am. But my wits remain with me, even though I have no sword.”

 

Quite suddenly there was a crowd in the room, with several large men surrounding Kerlin. However, he remained icily calm.

 

“Let me warn you all, that should any harm come to me, you shall not even get to see your Master LeGace again.”

 

“Oh, and how will that be? Do you have special powers?” Leonardo seemed amused.

 

“Aye,” Kerlin replied, “that I do have, and you do not want to know or see what I am able to do.”

 

“So ye say, but ye shall indeed meet yer match this day. Come me mates, let us take this gentleman to meet Master LeGace.”

 

 

 

 

 

Gregorio was staring intently at the manor, when he saw the door open, and he also saw the man, Kerlin, being led out of the side door. He was surrounded by guards and a lean, taller man who seemed to be in charge.

 

“Watch closely,” he whispered in Italian, “for it is Kerlin, and he will signal us as he leaves.” 

 

The two men with him nodded and stared intently ahead. Even though it was dark, they could see Kerlin within the group. His stern and steely manner was obvious, even at this distance. They saw his movement suddenly cease, as he bent forward to adjust his boot. They noticed that it was his left boot that he attended to. Ever so brief, that was the signal and Gregorio noticed. As the group headed toward the harbor, Gregorio told his men to tell Tom and the others what he signaled, and two of his runners went off to do just that, as he himself, along with most of his men silently slipped off to follow the group of men heading toward the waiting boat in the harbor.

 

As the cluster of men reached the boat, Gregorio was watching closely as they got into the little boat, and then rowed out toward the ships in the distance, outside of the purview of the harbor control. Gregorio could not be certain at first, but as he stared after the leaving boat in the harbor, he became sure of what he saw. There it was, at the stern of the boat a faint yet distinct blue light. He asked the aide at his side if he saw the unusual light, but no he hadn’t seen it.

 

I must tell Tom about this light. Perhaps he will know its significance. 

 

 

  

Well, here it is - the start of a new book in the series (for real). After trying to decide where to end Book Two and to start Book Three.

Shepperton’s Sacrifice

Heir of Drachma

Book Three

 

Chapter One

 

 

 

 

All was now quiet in Drachma’s abode. He sat in his chair in the study, with his glass of wine at his side. A gentle breeze blew in from the open window, carrying with it the scent of newly turned earth. This caused him to stop and pay attention. He had seen to it that Tom was dispatched along with a contingent of his best fighting men earlier in the day. There seemed no one else, however, he could sense the presence of another person in the room. He was so sure of it that he spoke aloud.

 

“Whoever is in here, I ask that you identify yourself, for I do know you are here with me.”

 

A voice came in on the breeze, a gentle, soothing voice. “Of course, you know me, my good friend. I am here to talk to you for the last time.”

 

“Falma!? Ah, if I could but see you.”

 

“That is not to be this time, my friend, but I too am anxious to see you. And you know I shall, but soon.”

 

“How soon? When?”

 

“You know I cannot say, especially as my own sense of time is now different from yours. But let me talk to you about what is happening in my beloved Shepperton - happening now.”

 

“Do tell, my friend. You obviously can see more than Tom or I and it is with some trepidation that I ask – are we doing right this night?”

 

“Alas, I am unable to say, as there are persons whose actions and intentions I am unable to see. However, knowing what I do, I can safely say that your persons are indeed doing what they perceive to be right. And further, that Tom shall soon be your true successor.”

 

“What do you need, then, to tell me, so I may write it down for young Tom?”

 

“You may tell him that Master Charlie shall be the one whose decision will this time be the deciding note, and that the future of several persons will depend upon his deciding. The persons so affected will include the lady Marilyn, but also the fates of Master Robert, the lady Judy, and her newborn. But it shall also decide the futures of persons in his own time and shall include the earl of Shepperton (who is yet alive), Christine Lewinsky and Alonza Chavez. And that, further, it shall determine (though I am unable to tell you just now) a descendant of Antoine LeGace.”

 

“Is that so? I suspected as much. And I do assume that you have taken that into consideration, have you not?”

 

“Of course, my friend. And both Christine Lewinsky and Alonza Chavez have now become aware of his presence, and I do feel certain of their ability to take on that challenge.”

 

“So, Tom was right to include them both.”

 

“Indeed, he was. And so, we must leave it in the hands of those chosen for now.”

 

“And I am then able to sleep as one who has done what he may, with what he has been given.”

 

“Aye, my dear friend. Grace be with thee.”

 

Then, as the breeze blew through his room, taking Falma with it, Drachma took out of his drawer, a sheet of paper and a pen from its inkwell, he began writing his last letter to Tom.

 

            To my dearest grandson, Drachma of the Island,

 

                        I have just been visited by the spirit of Falma, and he brings his greetings

                        to you, who must now take over my duties to Shepperton. Now, Falma told

                        me of things which I now confer to you, as well as confirmation of things

                        which I suspected.

 

                        Falma did tell of Master Charlie, who is to make the decision of staying or going.

                        And I know you shall be there to determine when he makes his decision, as my 

protégé, this I do know. I remain uncertain as to whether to tell him of the power of the broach which I know he has. That shall be for you and him to decide.

 

Only this time his decision shall affect a number of others, including Master Robert, Marilyn, the Lady Judy, their own newborn, as well as persons in both times. He also told of a new threat – that of a descendant of Master LeGace, and that he has seen to it that Christine and Alonza from Master Robert’s time have been alerted

to his presence, but he did not tell me more of this. I assume that you have confidence in these two women, and that is good. But beware of the evil one!

 

Also, you now know where the deed is kept

.

I know, my grandson, that you shall possess that power which you need.

 

Your everlasting friend and grandfather,

 

Drachma

                        

 

 

 

Tom and his select forest guards turned the corner and headed toward Shepperton. He knew where he had to go, and what he had to do. His only concern for the moment was what LeGace was planning. He was disinclined to believe what that evil one had written and felt with some certainty that he might be riding into a trap. As they approached the castle, up the hill on the right, he turned and said to his men, “me good men, this shall be your moment in time. What this agent of the evil one has decided I am not able to say, but I know this – that he has written a lie, but whatever the truth is, I am on the side of truth. Let us meet with Kerlin and Cayman, before proceeding to our destination.”

 

With that, he turned sharply to the right, and led his men up to the castle gate. There he saw Kerlin, along with Cayman, Derrymoor and Gregorio, along with their own riders, just within the gate.

 

“Ah, my young man,” said Kerlin. “We had news that you were coming from the keepers of the watch. It is good to see you again! I know that my own measure of anxiety is assuaged by your presence. My, how things have changed with you since our first meeting, eh?”

 

“As you say, Kerlin. To this day I do remember our first meeting. How could I not? There you were, all dressed as a forest guard, looking like you could but handle anything that was thrown in your direction. But it seems that Falma, Drachma and the forces of good and evil had designs that were too much to even think of for us.”

 

“And here we are today, under similar circumstances, but in such different roles, or so it seems, no?”

 

“Indeed! Now, tell me of the plans again, so that we might all be prepared. I do think that, with Master Gregorio and his men as with Derrymoor and his fighters, we should be able to avoid any unnecessary entanglements.”

 

Tom got down off his horse, as did Kerlin, and the two of them conferred, along with Derrymoor and Gregorio. Their meeting was brief, but obviously intense. For those observing, it only underscored the importance of this meeting. After conferring, Tom addressed the gathered forces, and said, “My dear comrades, we are here to deal with the purest evil. This one man has decided that he alone is the one to rule our island. It is no secret that I, as well as Drachma and the former earl of Shepperton have thrown our allegiance to Master Craycroft. And I assume that you, too, have chosen this path as well. And further I know that you have seen the letter, or at least have heard of the letter written to Master Craycroft. And further, that you have heard of the terrible thing he did to Master Tingley. For all this we seek revenge! Now, you all know where you are to be, and what you must all do under the circumstances you find yourselves in. Do any have questions of their role?”

 

Tom waited and looked out at his comrades. Their eyes burned with certainty of purpose, but none spoke. Tom nodded, then he said, “very well, my fellows, and so we go out with all our hearts and minds as one. This shall be for Kerlin, our lord Craycroft, our earl, and also for Drachma!”

 

“Aye, aye!” Came the voices of the men. It was then that Kerlin left, going out the main gate, and heading toward Reordan Manor. He was followed by Gregorio’s men, who scattered about, seemingly without order, but eventually heading toward the manor as well. The others left by the other gate, in the back of the castle, splitting up into three groups, before heading toward the manor house as well.

 

All was quiet as Kerlin approached Reordan Manor. It was evening, and the darkening sky was moonless. A breeze from the ocean carried the scent of the fisheries and seaweed. Before going up the path, Kerlin looked about him quickly, and to his satisfaction, saw that Gregorio’s men had, in fact, taken up their positions. He trusted that Tom’s and Derrymoor’s men were also in place. He stopped at the gate, where an armed guard, who looked familiar bade him halt. The man was dressed in a dark uniform, and Kerlin stood relaxed, but at attention. Then it came to Kerlin, that this was, indeed, Michel. Now, what has he done, and who did he let know that he had changed his allegiance? That is something I must look into if I am able.

 

Michel certainly recognized Kerlin, his former commander, yet said nothing to give any inkling of what had transpired in the past four years. He simply said, “Now ye are here per the request o’ Master LeGace. D’ye have any weapons upon yer person?”

 

“Nay, of course not.” And with that Kerlin allowed a search of his person for any hidden weapons, all the while keeping an expert eye on Michel, but then he saw the eyes of another in the guard house but could not tell to whom they belonged. All told they were the eyes of youth, but also the eyes of ancient wisdom. He looked away, and then back, and they were gone. But what remained was the smell of the ancient forest coming in from the open window. Then Kerlin smiled, as this was truly a sign.

 

“Come this way,” said Michel, “but be not a fool to think that ye can get away with anything.”

 

Michel led Kerlin to the manor house, up the stairs, and into the huge foyer. Kerlin had never seen the inside of Reordan Manor before, and his first impression was that of foolish misplaced elegance. He was led into one of the rooms at the back of the grand foyer. There, behind the desk sat Leonardo, who looked at Kerlin with utter derision.

 

“So, you have come, Kerlin. I do not have to tell you that your presence has been duly noted, and did you bring the two articles that my master requested?”

 

“Aye, I have them here. But I would request that you deliver them in my presence to your Master LeGace.”

 

“That will not be necessary, as he is not here.”

 

“Indeed? I do feel it shall be necessary.” Kerlin replied calmly, “this is too big an issue for you alone.”

 

“Well, then I insist that you come with me, as I shall take you to him. I do assume that you are unarmed, and that I shall have no trouble with you.”

 

“Indeed, I am. But my wits remain with me, even though I have no sword.”

 

Quite suddenly there was a crowd in the room, with several large men surrounding Kerlin. However, he remained icily calm.

 

“Let me warn you all, that should any harm come to me, you shall not even get to see your Master LeGace again.”

 

“Oh, and how will that be? Do you have special powers?” Leonardo seemed amused.

 

“Aye,” Kerlin replied, “that I do have, and you do not want to know or see what I am able to do.”

 

“So ye say, but ye shall indeed meet yer match this day. Come me mates, let us take this gentleman to meet Master LeGace.”

 

 

 

 

 

Gregorio was staring intently at the manor, when he saw the door open, and he also saw the man, Kerlin, being led out of the side door. He was surrounded by guards and a lean, taller man who seemed to be in charge.

 

“Watch closely,” he whispered in Italian, “for it is Kerlin, and he will signal us as he leaves.” 

 

The two men with him nodded and stared intently ahead. Even though it was dark, they could see Kerlin within the group. His stern and steely manner was obvious, even at this distance. They saw his movement suddenly cease, as he bent forward to adjust his boot. They noticed that it was his left boot that he attended to. Ever so brief, that was the signal and Gregorio noticed. As the group headed toward the harbor, Gregorio told his men to tell Tom and the others what he signaled, and two of his runners went off to do just that, as he himself, along with most of his men silently slipped off to follow the group of men heading toward the waiting boat in the harbor.

 

As the cluster of men reached the boat, Gregorio was watching closely as they got into the little boat, and then rowed out toward the ships in the distance, outside of the purview of the harbor control. Gregorio could not be certain at first, but as he stared after the leaving boat in the harbor, he became sure of what he saw. There it was, at the stern of the boat a faint yet distinct blue light. He asked the aide at his side if he saw the unusual light, but no he hadn’t seen it.

 

I must tell Tom about this light. Perhaps he will know its significance. 

 

 

  

Well, this is the last chance for you, my few and faithful readers, to decide - either this chapter is the final chapter of Book Two or the Ninth chapter of Book Three. My own preference is that this is the end of Center Game, Heir of Drachma, Book Two. Either way, it is one stimulating chapter, revealing only a little, but hidden within its framework is something that will blossom into another book of intrigue, magic, suspense and the battle of Good vs Evil in the world of Shepperton and within us. Enjoy!

Chapter Nine of Shepperton's Sacrifice or Chapter Thirty-Seven of Center Game

“Are you certain you have everything you need?”

 

“Oh, aye, that I am, m’liege,” answered Kerlin, “and are you also certain of your reinforcements. ‘Twould seem to me that it is you who have more to lose than do I.”

 

Craycroft shifted in his seat, then he got up, and went over toward the window, and looked down at the castle sprawled below. He could see, in the distance, the shape of what was originally Reordan Manor.

 

“Do you remember, Kerlin, our first encounter?”

 

“Most certainly, sire, but to be honest, it was the second encounter which I remember most vividly, and which shall always bring me the most rue.”

 

“Ah, well, then let me explain them to you, both encounters, actually. The reason that I wish to remind you of the first encounter is because of whom I was with. It was he who has meant so very much to our castle, and its history.”

 

“I do remember very well. It was Drachma, indeed. I was reporting to him about my encounter with Antoine LeGace.”

 

“You are correct. And it was what he told me after you left which set the stage for all that you have become. He said to me that you would be given the opportunity to prove yourself, and that I should be considering you for advancement. All this he was telling me, a simple healer at the time, as if speaking like a prophet.”

 

“Not the first time I have heard that, m’liege. And might I say that, should providence be amenable, we could use his influence right now.”

 

“Ah, but Kerlin, we do have his influence, in the form of his grandson.”

 

“Aye. And you do believe that he shall be ready?”

 

“As ready as you or I. And let me tell you of the second encounter we had, for at that encounter everything had changed.”

 

“Indeed, it had, for I came to you a broken man, having lost both the persons I was entrusted to protect along their way.”

 

“But, as you must recall, you had followed precisely the instructions given you by Drachma himself.”

Kerlin nodded and swallowed as his response.

 

“And so,” Craycroft went on, “you had done what your instructions were, despite the apparent brokenness of all around you. Is that not so?”

 

“Aye, it was so, despite my having serious misgivings at the time.”

 

“Well, then my good and faithful protector, you had earned your position, not with works of battlefield valor, but with obedience even in the face of apparent failure, no?”

 

Kerlin simply nodded. And Craycroft came toward him, and the two men shook hands. But then, Craycroft hugged Kerlin, and without further words, Kerlin left, the heavy oak door closing with a thud behind him.

 

Craycroft sat down heavily in the chair and reached for his wine. He sipped it cautiously, as he sat and pondered what was about to occur. He had conferred with Cayman, with Proust and Kerlin, with Derrymoor, and also with Tom, and together they had completed their plan of action. Now the only thing remaining was the waiting for all the pieces to fall together. 

 

Rather abruptly, he thought again of Marilyn, and he rang for his page. He asked the page to bring Marilyn, along with her guardian, Fausto, and Jeanne to his rooms. There was just something that she had said which bothered him, and he needed clarification. 

 

 

 

 

 

Marilyn was startled by the page’s knock, as well as his appearance with Fausto at her door. And the look on the youngster’s face said that this was something important.

 

“M’lady,” began the page, “I ha’ been asked by m’lord, Craycroft t’ tell ye that ye an’ yer man are needed at once. So, if ye would, I’d be happy t’ accompany ye t’ ‘is premises.”

 

Marilyn looked again at the small page, and then Fausto, to see if he knew anything. Fausto, sensing her hesitancy, shrugged his huge shoulders, then said, “I know not, m’lady, what this is about. But I shall be accompanying ye.”

 

The trio set off for the keep, and for Craycroft’s quarters. On the way, Marilyn asked Fausto again if he knew anything more.

 

After a shake of his head, he answered, “Nay, m’lady, I know not anythin’ of this. But I do agree that it does seem to me to be a wee bit off – ye bein’ summoned and’ all.”

 

“That’s right, Fausto. It’s not like we can do much of anything. And for him to be asking for you and me both, it seems that it may be important. And here we go again with the issue of importance. Ah, well… why, thank you page.” She said as the youngster held open the door to the keep.

 

The page led the two of them up the stone staircase, and then into the hallway, which was becoming familiar to Marilyn. She took another look around her, noticing the tapestries and the busts of austere figures whom she did not recognize. One of the busts caught her eye, and she turned toward Fausto and asked, “Fausto, do you know this man?”

 

“Oh, aye, that be Cartho. He was a great man, and truly, he was a marvel – he was lord Craycroft’s mentor. The lord must have just moved it up here. Fer it was not here before.”

 

“You’ve been here before, then?”

 

“Aye, m’lady, it was during the rule o’ the old earl of Shepperton.”

 

“You’ll have to tell me more…”

 

Their reverie was interrupted by none other than Craycroft himself. “Ah, my friends, do come in. I noted that you did take notice of the bust of Cartho. I did just have that one moved up here yesterday.”

 

“It is truly a striking bust, of an obviously powerful man,” Marilyn said, as they followed Craycroft into his sitting room.

 

“Aye. ‘tis true.” He paused, then turning to the page, said, “Now, Herman, if ye would, I shall have ye bring up some refreshment for m’lady and her man.”

 

“Aye, I shall bring some anon,” he said before turning abruptly and heading on down the hallway.

 

As they turned and went in to Craycroft’s sitting room, Marilyn noticed that Jeanne was already here, and gave her a comforting smile, but she appeared otherwise hyperalert, sitting on the edge of her chair.

 

“Jeanne, I’m so glad you’re here. This whole business is beginning to give me bad vibes. Also, I’m beginning to think that it would be a bad idea to go in search of my husband…”

 

“Bad vibes? What is that?” Jeanne asked with perplexity.

 

“Oh, it’s an expression from our time. Actually, it’s from a song, written by one in a group called the Beach Boys, named Brian Wilson. When asked, he noted that his dog could tell if people were good or threatening, by their “vibrations.” And that begat his song, called Good Vibrations, and the nation caught on to the understated message, that there were good and bad vibrations, or vibes, given off everywhere.”

 

“That is most interesting, m’lady” said Craycroft. “For it is of such that we speak this evening. And before I tell you what we shall be doing, let me but ask of you a favor.”

 

“A favor? What is it that you want of me? For it does seem to me that I am here, not of my own accord, but rather at the whim of forces beyond my own understanding.”

 

“Ah, true, m’lady. For such it would seem for many of us as well. But let me tell you of the favor I ask. You had said that young Lisa had been brought to you by one who calls herself Maggie. Is that correct?”

 

“Yes. That’s right. And that is something I’ll never forget, neither that moment, nor the girl. They simply appeared out of the woodland, with Maggie leading this young thing, and turned her over to my care, as if that was the most natural thing to do. Mind you, it’s not as if I had any will to resist, but I tell you, there was something about her, an aura, with a bluish glow coming from her face, which was beautiful, and surrounded by a shroud of red hair. Oh, my, it still makes me tingle thinking about her. And you know what? I can still remember everything she said to me.”

 

“Oh, and what did she say?

 

“She called me Lady Marilyn (and that caught me off guard), and she said “I am called Maggie, and I come with greetings from Falma. This is Lisa. And I bring her to you for discovery and for safekeeping.””

 

“Most interesting, indeed, Lady Marilyn,” Craycroft mused, “for it fits with what I have heard of you. You may not yet know it, but your voice and your knowledge are what we need here in Shepperton.”

 

“Mister Craycroft, I really am nothing special, and I have no special skills, nor do I have any special knowledge. If, in fact, you need someone special like that, you are looking at the wrong person. I just came along because Falma told me that Bob was in need of my help. I’m sure you remember Falma, and just how persuasive he can be.”

 

Craycroft smiled at her. “Indeed, I do remember Falma well, m’lady. And you are so right that he could be a most persuasive individual. But that he would consider you to be the appropriate one, as has Maggie herself, who is beholden to no one here and now, would strike me as a true sign from Heaven itself that you are to be with us in our hour of need.”

 

“Heaven?” Marilyn looked perplexed. “Do you really mean Heaven? As in the realm of angels, and where we would all like to go when we die – that Heaven? Is that the place you are talking about?”

 

“Oh, aye, m’lady. And it would seem that you, among us mortals, are in touch with that place even as you do walk within our midst. To wit, the angelic being that visited you, and even Master Falma, would bear witness to that truth.”

 

“Truth. Is that what you want from me?”

 

“Indeed, it is, m’lady. For you see, it is either truth or power which reigns over us. Mere power corrupts those who use it, and the lies which they use to bolster their clinging minions offer nothing but empty promises. Truth, on the other hand, is grounded in eternity, and whether or not those who hold to power see it for what it is, it must prick at their consciences. So, you see, we do need your words of truth, and it was for this reason you are now among us.”

 

A heavy silence enveloped the room. Eventually, Marilyn broached the silence and said, “So that is what you want from me? Am I an oracle, then, or some sort of prophet?”

 

“If I may, m’lady,” Fausto spoke up, unexpectedly, “’twould seem to me that what lord Craycroft is saying be the thing that I also have seen. I know not what to call ye, but I do recall that ye’re everything that I was told by young Tom. For I was told to expect a great lady from the time o’ Robert Gilsen, whom I would know by her action to be one we could expect to do great things…”

 

“Great things?  Here?” Marilyn’s tone was both exasperated and resigned. Turning again to Craycroft, “Well, then, what have you to tell me. For I know that you have done something that will have serious consequences for us all. Am I right about that?”

 

For answer, Craycroft pulled from his cloak the letter from LeGace. As Marilyn read the letter, her face darkened. She said nothing for several seconds, then stood up, and went over to the window, looking down at the scene below.

 

“Come here,” she said to Craycroft, “and tell me where this will be taking place. You do know what I mean, don’t you?”

 

Craycroft got up, went over to the window, and pointed, “There, you can see for yourself the place to which I have dispatched Kerlin.”

 

“And what precautions have you taken, for it seems that this Antoine LeGace would himself be wary of you, especially at this time…”

 

There was a knock at the door, and then the page reappeared, carrying a large tray.

 

“Thank you, page,” said Craycroft. “Please set your tray here and wait outside. I am quite certain that I’ll have need of ye ere this evening is done.”

 

Craycroft then took two chairs, one each for Fausto and Marilyn. Next, he asked Jeanne to come and join them as they sat about the table. What the page brought up was indeed a small feast, with meats, cheeses, yeast rolls and tumblers for the ale, which he already knew, Craycroft kept in his rooms.

 

“Now, my friends, let us eat and drink, and then I shall tell you of my plans for tonight, as well as for the foreseeable future.”

 

The small gathering all sat and ate, looking at each other, but none speaking. After eating, they drank their ale, and finally, Craycroft began to speak. “Here is what I have planned for this encounter with the evil Master LeGace.” He told them of his plan to involve Gregorio, Derrymoor, Tom’s men, Cayman and Proust. Marilyn’s head was reeling as he explained further, and she was amazed at Craycroft’s plan and his knowledge of his own people. As he continued, her respect for this physician turned ruler took on new depth, yet she could not shake the worry that her own Bob, as well as Jeanne’s Melchior were under the sway of this most evil man. Though she had never met him, she could feel his venom infiltrating the scene.

 

“Mister Craycroft,” she began, “it is quite clear to me that your plan certainly has merit, and appears to be quite brilliant, but I can definitely feel that this Mr. LeGace’s evil has already gotten Bob and Melchior in his clutches, and I do not know how he plans to use them. And, yes, I understand that Bob is being held in some barracks, and Melchior is on the ship, from which Lisa was rescued by this waif of a person called Maggie…”

 

“And do you not know,” interjected Jeanne, “that Maggie indicated to Lisa that Melchior was safe, and that Maggie knew of plans for his purposes?”

 

“No, I didn’t know of such… It would seem that Maggie had special messages for us all, and each couched in her own undecipherable terms.”

 

“Indeed!” answered Craycroft. “And to each person, only that which he could carry for the time given.”

 

Then Marilyn found herself quoting, “For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know just as I also am known.”

 

Craycroft and Jeanne were stunned by her words, which seemed to carry the weight of certitude, and seemed to echo across the great chasm of time. Marilyn, however, knew she was quoting from Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians, and realized then that the bible which was known at this time had not been translated from the Latin, and would remain so for their lives. She swallowed at this realization, and caught some of what Craycroft was saying earlier, and found it humbling.

 

“My pardon, m’lady, but your words carry the ring of truth, as I have indicated. It is precisely what we need of you.”

 

As they headed back their rooms, Marilyn again noticed the bust of Cartho, but this time she felt its aura. It was as if Craycroft could also feel it.

 

 

 

Much later, after she had been brought back to her room, escorted by her huge friend, Fausto, who, on the way back, was uncharacteristically reticent to speak. At her door, however, he said quite simply, “M’lady, I didna’ have any knowledge of what ye spoke at m’lord’s place; but be comforted tha’ I shall remain close t’yer door, an’ I’ll be at yer side, whatever becomes o’ this. On that ye have me word.”

 

“Thank you sincerely, Fausto,” Marilyn answered, “That means the world to me.”

 

He then took her hand in his huge hands, and very gently kissed her small, pale fingers, before leaving to go back to his room next to hers.

 

As Marilyn entered her room, she was startled to see that someone had lit a fire, and on her table were some fine bread, fruit and cheeses, as well as a tankard of Barncuddy’s finest. She sat down, and sampled some cheese and fruit, and began drinking some ale. Looking over the lid, she suddenly saw some movement across the room. And there she was again, looking as if she belonged in the room. Her red hair framed her beautiful face, from which emanated a faint blue light.

 

“Lady Marilyn, be at ease! I have come to tell you of your circumstances, as well as of the choice that Master Charlie shall have to make, which will affect you, Lady Judy, her daughter, Angelica, and Robert.”

 

Marilyn swallowed her mouthful of ale, then spoke up. “Maggie, you do surprise me again. But please, go ahead and tell me what this is all about, for I’ve been given some of the story of why I’m here, and I’ve also been told that you are in touch with the truth of the matter.”

 

“For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then face to face. Now you know in part, but then you shall know just as I also am known.”

 

Marilyn looked agape at the vision in front of her, at this young girl, radiantly beautiful, quoting back to her the scripture she had quoted to Craycroft and the others (with the subtlest changes).

 

“All right, you have my attention,” she said at last. “Tell me what I must know. This whole thing has got me so torn apart that I can’t think straight.”

 

“Listen, and you shall hear what you need to know. You are here as an advisor to Craycroft, and you shall be, along with Jeanne, those that he may trust to keep him on the path of truth. There will come difficulties, but you shall have the power of truth on your side. As for Master Charlie, he shall also have difficulties, but you may not interfere with his decisions. He must choose to go back himself, or to send you back. Both of you may not go. That is the way of this curtain of time. But for now then, you may speak with and interact with Robert as you see fit.”

 

“And what about this Antoine LeGace? What can I do about him if anything?”

 

“You shall avoid him. He is here as sent by his master, the evil one. There is nothing you are able to do to him. Now, Marilyn, be at peace, for that is what I am able to give you.” And with that she handed Marilyn a small loaf of warm, fragrant bread. As Marilyn took a bite of her bread, Maggie vanished from her sight, leaving behind the scent of the forest.

 

 

  

This is the penultimate chapter in what I am trying to decide - either Chapter 1 - 9 of Book Three, or the end of Book Two - Center Game. I favor the latter, but I'll let you all decide! This is a short, but intense chapter which lays the groundwork for what is to come.

Chapter Eight

 

 

 

 

Lonnie was sitting with Carol and the earl, and, after a few minutes Chris joined them at Amanda’s funeral. Lonnie was finding it difficult to follow, but she did try. And then, when it came time for her to speak, she got up nervously and went up the aisle to the front. After getting herself set behind the lectern, she looked down at her small card, but as she got to speaking, she neglected her card, as the words just flowed.

 

“Amanda was, to my way of thinking,” she began, “one of the truly rare finds in my life. She was, she was… Well, let me tell you of how she transcended everything and everyone around her. Even though I was older than her by a long shot, I always regarded her as so much wiser than myself. You see, when confronting an illness like she had, she seemed to regard it as just another pebble along her path. And she could see around the bend of your path too, that path which you walked brought her light and entertainment, which made her light up with an energy you could also sense. She was inquisitive, not in a nosy way, but the way of friends seeing each other again after a long absence – she wanted to share what you had discovered and add it to her own experience.

 

“And that was why she became the confidant of her sisters at the home. And by that I mean, not just the Sisters of the Poor, but also her fellow orphans. She knew, deep down inside herself, that she was in touch with something eternal. And so it was that she spoke of Francine Swinney, and she told me that Francine, another of her little sisters at the orphanage, was in danger. And then later she knew that she had died, and she even knew how, but never told anyone else. Now, what you might ask does this have anything to do with the here and now? Well, I’ll tell you. Just this morning in the paper there was a little blurb, and believe it or not, I know that Amanda’s spirit moved me to look at the paper, and to turn to this little story on page three. It told of someone who had just escaped from prison, named Albert LeGace, who was Francine’s stepfather, and was the one who had killed her.” She paused and swallowed back a tear, then resumed. “And I know she died horribly, as did Amanda, with that knowledge.”

 

A slight murmuring spread through the church.

 

“Now you might ask,” continued Lonnie, “how do you connect these things, and what do they mean? I know that the death of these two youngsters in and of themselves should not bear any significance, but I know they do, in ways that it may be difficult to explain. But I feel quite certain that God has touched me, and that His ways and His angels, including Amanda, have much to say to us here and now.

 

“And I want to close with this. If you should happen to think of Amanda, just remember that she is not done doing what she has always done – that is, getting under your skin, and going straight for your vulnerable heart.”

 

As Lonnie stepped down from the lectern, and began to walk back to her seat, she looked at the back of the church, and there she saw him. Sitting alone, and with the same look of disdain and smugness. He mouthed the words, “Later, Alonza.” Her heart skipped a beat as she sat down, pale and shaken, next to Chris.

 

“What is it, Lonnie?” Whispered Chris, “you look as if you’ve seen a ghost…”

 

“It’s him! He’s here, in the back of the church,” she answered in a tense whisper.

 

But as Chris and Lonnie both turned and looked back, he was not there. Yet there, it seemed to Lonnie, was still his essence, his pervasive and evil essence.

 

 

 

 

 

It was in a back booth at Guido’s Café that the two women sat and looked at each other for a long while, each sipping on their cappuccinos. Eventually, Christine spoke up and asked Lonnie to explain just what she had seen, and what had shaken her to the core.

 

“Oh, my! You should have seen him. Just sitting back there in the church, looking as if we were just a bunch of pawns, and he then mouthed the words, “Later, Alonza.” I almost froze, but I did make it back to the pew. Oh, Chris, I can still see him, all smug and evil, and I can feel his presence! What do you suggest I do?”

 

Chris hesitated, then answered carefully, “For now, nothing. But be assured, we will provide some police back-up. I can arrange for that, as you are vital for our ongoing investigation. But to tell you the truth, Lonnie, this is more of that awful stuff which gets thrown in my direction. You know, even my boss thinks that this whole business with Shepperton has taken a toll on me. He even talked to me today, to see if there was any way that someone else could step in to help. I told him I didn’t think so, not at the moment, anyhow. I didn’t tell him about your helping me.”

 

Lonnie took another sip of her cappuccino before saying, “At least, for the moment, while he is still on the loose… Oh, Chris, I feel there is an otherworldly spirit or something like that afoot. And I have no idea what I am supposed to do, how I am supposed to help.”

 

“I hate to say it, Lonnie, but your help to me is not measurable in any way. Yet it is as necessary as it was for you to go to the funeral.”

 

“You think so?”

 

“Uh huh. I most certainly so.”

 

“Well, then, you tell me how I can help – maybe it will keep down the feelings of inadequacy.”

 

“Oh, Lonnie, for now I would just say to go about your business as normally as possible. You let me worry about security. And, after your little encounter, it would definitely seem to me that our Albert LeGace has plans to meet up with you.”

 

“Gee, thanks a lot!” Lonnie answered with all the sarcasm she could muster.

 

For the next half hour, the two women sat and commiserated. Finally, Lonnie stood up, and said, “Well, I guess I’d better be going. And thanks so much for the coffee.”

 

Chris got up as well, and the two women hugged, as if in some way this could be a final goodbye.

 

Lonnie then walked out of the café, got into her car, and drove back toward her house. She did not notice the black Oldsmobile which followed her.

 

 

 

 

 

Now in Chapter Seven, we are setting up for more adventures to come.

 Chapter Seven

 

 

Bob now just sat and stared at nothing in particular. He was again feeling overwhelmed, as he tried to take the pulse of his current situation.

 

“M’lord,” said Hermes, his companion and fellow prisoner, “’twould seem t’ me that ye’re just now thinkin’ about our situation, an’ how it be that ye’re not where ye ought t’ be, nor doin’ what ye should be doin’.”

 

“Oh, Hermes, that’s true indeed. It seems to me that, ever since we were packed up and sent on this mission into the interior, forces of which I have no knowledge or control have been at work to keep me from doing and being what I am. I mean, if you consider just a week ago, we were in the castle, going about our business of healing, teaching and doing research. And my wife was pregnant with our unexpected child. And then what happened? After being taken prisoner by the Italian count, Eustace suddenly has a seizure, and, in search of proper water, you, Kevin and I get whisked off to Killiburn, as prisoners again. And on the way, we see Maggie, who appears in the hut in Clannach, and her presence is some kind of warning.

 

“Then we got rescued, and as we’re headed toward Castle Kearney, where Judy is, along with the others, who do I see, but Marilyn? I was just figuring all this out, when we get ambushed again, and this time Kevin is murdered, and we are taken prisoner again. Anyway, here we are, wherever here is. I’m just sitting down wondering what’s next on this journey, across time and across space, and I’m about out of patience, and I’m just about ready to take matters into my own hands.”

 

A tingle of excitement went through Hermes, as he was a bit startled to hear to hear Bob talk this way. “Master Robert,” he said breathlessly, as he checked for his short sword, then quickly realized it had been taken from him, “whate’er ye decide t’ do, ye know I shall be there fer ye. Fer I’m sworn t’ be yer protector.”

 

“I know, and I thank you for that, Hermes. You know what I’ve been thinking about? The water that the count had been drinking – he and his men; it had come from the creek of the dead, and you know what that could mean?”

 

“It could mean that he an’ his men might be facin’ illness, eh?”

 

“Exactly! And I have no way of either contacting them or diagnosing them.”

 

“Now, is that somethin’ ye’d do fer yer enemies?”

 

“Yeah, it’s something I’d do for anyone, friend or enemy. You see, Hermes, when you become a physician, your allegiance goes beyond any labels people might put on others. Your true allegiance is to the human race, and to individual human beings.”

 

“I had no idea… D’ye mean even Master LeGace an’ his men?”

 

“Yes, even Antoine LeGace.”

 

“E’en though ye might be able to diagnose ‘em, as ye say, there’s nothin’ that ye could really do for ‘em, is there?”s

 

“Ah, Hermes, you’ve touched on a most interesting irony there. For you see, back home at the castle, Melchior has come up with a substance, derived from our common red seaweed, which kills bacteria. Do you realize just what a magnificent thing that could be? And here I am, a prisoner, stuck in this spot, unable to communicate with Melchior, when we could be making some real history back in our institute. The idea of making the first working antibiotic years before bacteria were even described – that would really be something!”

 

 

 

 

 

Kerlin had called a meeting of those he considered vital to the quest. Together with him in the barracks of the castle were Cayman, Gregorio, Derrymoor and Proust. Kerlin was nervous, though only Cayman could tell. It was just a subtle gruffness in his voice, that along with a bit of moisture around his upper lip that gave him away. Though none could tell, he kept them all entranced with his careful explanation of what was to happen.

 

“My friends,” he said, after carefully reexplaining the plan that he and Craycroft had made. “Tom is on his way to his destination. He should be there by early evening. And I do believe that Master LeGace would most likely want to keep Master Robert and Hermes alive, for if dead, then what would his bargaining position be?

 

“But on the other hand, if I were to be killed, that would merely enhance his own position, especially since he does have older issues with me. So, what I am saying is your position and your own knowledge are even more important to Craycroft. Do you have any questions thus far?”

 

Gregorio spoke up, saying, “are you saying, Master Kerlin, that you are willing to become the bait for Lord Craycroft?”

 

“Oh, aye, that I am, though you must realize that I have taken other risks, perhaps even greater. You see, Craycoft and you all are aware of the risks I take with this endeavor.”

 

“I do understand, Master Kerlin, but it would seem to me that both you and Lord Craycroft are taking unnecessary risks, no?”

 

“And do you propose any other way to handle our adversary?”

 

In answer, Gregorio said, “since I am not known to this man, LeGace, and neither are my men, then we could be of particular assistance in your defense, rather than merely onlookers.”

 

“An excellent point, sir. And so, what is your proposal?”

 

He then took advantage of the table they were sitting about, as well as some of the foodstuff scattered around, expertly moving the pieces about the table, and explained to the others just how he could place himself and his men, around the Reordan house, and just how to signal his men as to the happenings within.

 

“Very well, I shall present your plan to lord Craycroft after we leave this place. Now, does anyone else have questions?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 This is a bit unusual, but Chapter Six is probably unfinished, and the later editing may yield some new stuff to be put in it, but for now, here it is:

                                                        Chapter Six

 

 

 

 

“I am Diego Monteverde, prince of Catalpa,” he said without difficulty or significant slurring. “And you, my most precious little child, are Alexandra. That is a name that in my land shall become… as a saint!”

 

Alexandra smiled at her man, radiant as a sunbeam.

 

“Come, my prince, let me take ye to the others. Show ‘em that ye’re doin’ better.” Then Alex took his arm and walked with Diego, still limping slightly, out into the waiting area outside her room. She turned down the hall and headed toward the dining area. She could hear voices, and she entered, leading her man by the arm.

 

“Look who I’ve got wi’ me. You tell ‘em, me prince.”

 

With a slight bow of the head, he said, as plainly as could be, “I am Diego Monteverde, prince of Catalpa. And this young angel has been so kind as to have brought me through this – I hate to say it – this ordeal.”

 

The gasps that came from the other residents of the room were palpable. But no one said a word until Chauncey spoke, “M’lord, did ye but say that ye came from Catalpa, me wife’s family’s home? And if so, did ye come all this way on a mission of vengeance?”

 

“Aye, that is the truth. And ye be Chauncey, a man of great knowledge, and of great secrets as well, eh?”

 

“Aye,” Chauncey answered. “But it would appear, me good prince, that yer own story must be one that we should hear. Fer me own can wait, and I would guess that yer own is one that may mean the difference fer all of us.”

 

“Why do you say that?”

 

“Truly simple, fer ye were saved from disaster fer some purpose by forces beyond yer ken, no? And it was none other than Maggie, with her blue light which saved ye from the shipwreck, and then by the hand o’ this young lass,” he gestured toward Alex, “ye were allowed to heal. And may I say, that we are truly grateful fer that.”

 

“As am I, friend. Then, I should, as it would seem right, to tell of my tale. As you indicated, it is, indeed a tale of vengeance.” Saying this, he sat down, and began his story.

 

“It did begin some two years ago, when one of my knights, a man of integrity, who was a widower and owned some land in the southern part of my country, came to me with what I thought was a most strange story, indeed. He said that he had been approached by a man, who knew of his ownership of the land, who told him that he had a deed to the property, and that my knight, whose name was Anselm, had three months to get his things off the property, and that he would be back in three months to claim it as his own. When Anselm asked to see the deed, the man told him that it was not his to see, and that if he did not comply with his request, that he would be certain to kill each and every member of Anselm’s family, beginning with his youngest son, then his two daughters, then his eldest son and heir.

 

“Then Anselm asked him his name, and was told by the man, that it was LeGace. And when Anselm took out his sword in rebuke, LeGace told him to sheath his sword, as they had his youngest son out back, and would certainly kill him if any harm or perceived threat came to LeGace. Then he turned on his heels and walked out of his house, with his word of warning being, “three months is all!”

 

“Well, time passed, and Anselm’s youngest was in LeGace’s custody, and then three months to the day came, and there on his front step was the body of his youngest child, with a knife in his chest, and a vicious note, which was pinned to his chest by the knife, and said that he and all his possessions must by now be off his land, and that he was now familiar with the consequences.”

 

A gasp rose from the others in the room. After a brief pause, Alex went over to Diego, gently took his arm in hers, and then asked him if this boy’s name was Tristan.

 

“Why, aye, his name was indeed, Tristan! How would you know such a thing?”

 

“Me dreams. Tristan was in them, an’ he tol’ me that you would be comin’, an’ that I was to take good care of ye. He said that ye’d be acomin’ fer to avenge his father.”

 

“Goodness, child, you are so right! I did promise his father that I’d be seeking revenge. You see, Anselm got his family together and came to my castle to ask if I had any place for his children to be staying. I said, most certainly, that the three remaining children could stay in my servant’s quarters. He then thanked me and said that he must now seek out this man, LeGace, and his doings. I did not hear from Anselm until four months ago. He had sent a messenger, as he was severely injured, and was dying in one of our port cities. He said that he found out that LeGace was now in Shepperton, and planning to take it by force, and to make it his new center of 

operations, and further, he had developed an alliance with the king of England to guarantee that he would be able to do so safely. Just what that alliance entailed amounted to was that he, the king, would get a continuous supply of Shepperton pottery.

 

“Now, I was not aware until coming here that the pots of Shepperton were anything special, but evidently they are, indeed. I did try to send aid to the port of Weston where Anselm was, but alas, too late. It took the next few months to assure that my own affairs, as well as the welfare of Anselm’s children were in order, before I could set out with a small army toward Shepperton. And you have certainly heard of what happened to my ship and my army.”

 

At this, he began to choke and had to pause in his narration.

 

“It does seem to me,” Chauncey broke in, “that yer loss of men was a significant blow, as ye must have had some good friends among the others on board.”

 

Diego nodded, and when he could recount his story again, said in a hoarse voice, “Aye. That I did. I have tried not to think on this. For it seems that my whole ship was lost, save me. And that was not of my doing, but as you noted, it was through means unknown to me.”

 

At the mention of his ship and his crew, the others in the room closed ranks, and listened with even more attention, including Charlie Stephens, who had noticed that Maggie was a part of this story too. 

 

“She was there, after my main mast had broken,” Diego continued, “and we were there in the sea, drifting on those great waves. She was just there in the darkness as calm as she could be, with her blue luminescence coming from deep inside her, as if she were some kind of otherworldly torch. Then when she spoke, I could not resist, and I went toward her and together we went over the railing and into the ocean. Then I remembered nothing until awakening in the arms o’ my Alexandra, singing to me on the shore.”

 

He paused, long enough to notice Alex’s reaction, which was one of extraordinary tenderness for her man.

 

“I remember what Maggie said to me. She said that it was to be the last voyage for my men and my ship, but it was not to be my last one. The implications of her words have filled me with both determination and grim hope. For ‘twould seem that my next voyage would be in saving the integrity of this isle. But for that to be true, ‘twould seem that I must find a way back to yer port, and yer castle. For I must talk to the lord of the castle and see of his needs and what ships he has at his direction.”

 

Gilbert, who had been listening intently, then broke in. “Good sir, the only ships that come to our harbor are already owned by the merchants who do the tradin’ fer the goods o’ Shepperton. We have no ships o’ war.”

 

“But you see that is good.” Answered Diego. “For you see, it would be much more effective of the enemy did not know that he is being attacked until it is too late to do anything about it. So, if it would be possible to use vessels that seem like the ordinary fleet that serves to simply carry goods to and from your port, it would make sense to me.”

 

“That does seem to be true,” Gilbert acknowledged, “but we shall have to get ye to Lord Craycroft so that ye can plan strategies with ‘im. I know not if the pigeons would work t’ send a message t’ Shepperton Castle.”

 

“The pigeons?”

 

“Oh, aye! We have carrier pigeons so we can send messages back an’ forth upon this isle.” Gilbert said proudly. “If ye’d like, we might send a message t’ Lord Craycroft, and it shall arrive in Shepperton Castle afore we do.”

 

 

 

Within the hour, Diego was sitting with Chauncey, Gilbert, Charley Stephens, and with Alex and one of the pages around a rough table high up in the castle. Charley had provided the paper from his notebook, as well as a pencil to write with. The persons all around gathered to see the spectacle of twentieth century paper and pencil being utilized for the important message to be sent. Diego had tried to write, but his right hand was still too clumsy, so the task of writing fell to Charley, who took dictation, as he put Diego’s idea on paper.

 

The people in the room were all amazed at the paper, which could be easily folded and then rolled up, placed into a tiny cylinder. This, in turn was latched to a metal ring which was on the left leg of one of the birds. The bird was then sent on its way, as it circled a couple of times, then headed south, toward Shepperton Castle.