Chapter 12 -The French Alliance

England - 1864

During his stay at the Lloyd estate, Anthony found he could not sleep. It was just eluding him. For the first three nights, he turned to the massive liquor well. He would get black out drunk only to find himself woken up in an hour or two, drenched in sweat. He would be in much need of a bath. He found the ring on his finger to be cool, almost refreshing him. He would sneak downstairs and draw a bath in the servants quarters, as to not wake a soul. He already knew Flynn would yell and throw a fit, due to his poor choice in behavior. By the fourth night, he had given up on sleep entirely. He started to pace the halls with a lantern. As a boy, he would get lost in these hallways. He remembered those moments quite fondly. It was quite late in the manor, everyone was asleep. Anthony had no worries as he took his midnight strolls. He would always stop at the massive library, take a new book and wander back to his room.

It was not until the seventh night until he got turned around and lost. The rain was pouring down on the old building. He had already made his way to the library. This time he had trouble getting back to his room. He wandered the halls for hours. He began to hear a soft voice in his ear. He strained to hear what was being said. It was as if hands were covering his ears. He made his way down the corridor. He walked lightly, trying not to make a sound on the old creaky floorboards. The temperature began to drop the farther he ventured. He began to notice his hand getting molten, he glanced down. It was his fathers, and grandfather's ring. Suddenly he remembered exactly where he was. This was his parents wing of the house. His mind must have blocked it out completely. The voices were getting clearer, less muffled, yet there was not a soul in sight.

Anthony kept walking further and further down the hallway. Nothing had changed. He was surprised that the servants still put fresh lavender in the vases each day. He smiled, his mother would be happy. She loved the beautiful purple on each pedal.

“My Dear, we will have to tell him.” Anthony froze in his tracts. The world around him became very blurry. He turned his head slowly, he felt his ring pulse and the metal blaze. He was looking at his parents. The room was as it had been when he was a child. He reached out to touch something, only to find it went right through. He swallowed hard, only to find his mouth had run dry.

“Tell him what?” August said hopelessly. “I have got you all into this mess. You are on borrowed time.” He buried his head in her hands. “My dear Lucia, can you forgive me?”

“We were betrayed. You had nothing to do with it. The best thing is to keep moving once I am gone. You know that. Robert knows that. The Order will do everything to keep what's left of the bloodline in tact. We have no idea what Anthony's gifts will be. He might be the one to figure out all this disorder.”

Anthony stood there unable to move, unable to speak. He was just watching ghosts playing out a moment in time. The ring on his finger was now a comforting glow. He felt it lead him here. He was meant to see this. Was this part of his gifts? Was he able to see glimpses of the past? There was so much unknown, he had so many questions and nowhere to turn for answers. He remembered Mr. Burke telling him that he would learn more about his past by taking the leap of faith and joining The Order. No, He thought to himself. This has just got to be the alcohol, withdrawal or something. There is no bloody way on Gods green earth that this is happening right now.

“We will delay what we can. I think the doctor that Mr. Burke sent over, said I had about two years as long as I keep the amulet on at all times. That's two wonderful years we can have. He promised that they will do their best to see who betrayed our identity in The Order as well.” Lucia said.

The room spun faster and faster, Anthony saw his grandfather beside his mother's bed. She looked pail and frail, as delicate as a glass slipper. She looked up at his grandfather.

“Robert, we both have a request to make of you.” Lucia stared deeply into Robert's eyes. August knelt by his dying wife. “This must never leave this room, our son's life is at stake.”

“We fear The Order may be compromised at this time. We are the last of the original true bloodlines left. If I am correct, Anthony should be able to halt this?” August rose to face his father.

“I can't say for sure, its possible. We don't know. Our family has always been very good at finding the seals, yes. As for what comes next I am not the one to tell you. I cannot see forward.” Robert said with a heavy heart. “I promise you, I will do all I can for you Lucia, we both will protect Anthony. I will do all I can to help him.” Then he saw his grandfather slip something in a book. He then seemed to turn and he looked directly into Anthony's eyes.

Help me? He was screaming inside his head. Here he was, wandering around his childhood home in the middle of the night. He must be having a nervous breakdown. It must be a breakdown, he thought. The shadows spun around him faster and faster. They rose and fell like flames and then dying down to embers then ash. It felt like smoke was engulfing him, the only thing he could make out were jumbled whispers. Anthony clutched his head as if in agony. He tried to hold on, but finally the darkness overtook him.

“Dear God laddy, what the hell was ya' thinking!” the loud and boisterous voice of a Scotsman was not what Anthony wanted to hear at that moment. Or was it? Anthony groaned. “Alright lads, lets get this sopped up excuse to the stable.”

“WHAT?” Anthony tried to belch out. He found himself being dragged by two very strong men, against his will, somewhere.

“Ya can't even yell. Into the tank. I have had it. I love ya dearly, but I am done. Tough love today. I can treat whatever cold you get, so I am willing to take the risk this time of you getting the sniffles. Passed out drunk in the hallway of all places.” Flynn's voice started to get higher and higher like an old grandmother.

Anthony started to laugh. He felt so relived it was just a dream! There was still that nagging sensation in the pit of his stomach that it wasn't. For now, he was happy to ignore the night before and gladly accept Flynn dunking him in the horse trough for being drunk.

“I am sorry I scared you. I just had trouble sleeping. I guess I had too much.” Anthony began to wake up and the two gentlemen let him go. “I have had so much on my mind. I apologize for my behavior. I will jump in the trough willingly if it will make you happy.”

“Wash up. You smell like something unholy. Meet me for brunch in twenty minutes in the library. For god sake's man wear something more than your robe.” Flynn stormed off.

Anthony found his way back to his room and washed up. His mind was going over everything from the evening, repetitively. It was such a vivid dream, he had never had anything like it before. One thing in particular was eating away at him. He knew he was going to have to talk it over with Flynn. He couldn't bring himself to go into his parents wing without Flynn. He thought about his grandfather, if he were to hide something, he might do it in places such as that room. It was a place of great pain and sorrow. This whole estate was full of broken memories. It became clear to Anthony why he had to return.

Flynn was waiting for him in the library. There was a large fire roaring in the hearth and the heat felt inviting after the interesting evening Anthony had the night before.

“Booze couldn't make you look that green, what really happened?” Flynn asked calmly.

“What do you mean?” Anthony looked shocked.

“I may be new to medicine, but a drunks a drunk. The two boys I got to help me look for you thought you died. I knew you were not dead, but I smelled whiskey pretty strong on you. Eh it worked. I think I scared them from ever touching a drink again! Poor chaps, but they will get over it. We do have an important dinner tonight or did you forget?” Anthony looked extremely puzzled. Flynn shook his head, and put his head in his hands.

“Let's say I did forget. What are we having?” Anthony said sheepishly. Flynn threw a bible at his head.

“Catch up on your reading! We are having a French brother come stay to oversee the church construction. We need safe passage to the Americas, and he comes recommended from the Vatican . You think a trip like that is going to come easy? Right now the good ol' queen has got her ships blocking things for the yanks. We need to get into New York harbor without worry of being raided or killed. Easiest way and safest way is through the church. The Queen will dare not fire on the Popes ships. It's very rare that he will fly a flag on a ship. Mr. Burke is going to accompany the brother to the estate to make sure everything goes smoothly. He says we owe him a new shirt for his 'troubles' and to behave. I am starting to grow fond of this chap. I thought he had no sense of humor. Guess I was wrong.”

“No nights like last night? I am guessing.” Anthony grimaced.

“If you want to go parading around in your robe, you can't do it with a holy man in the estate. That would be unwise. At least let me get you a kilt, hides everything, and you still get a breeze. However I don't think that was the goal last night.”

“I am struggling. I have figured out a few things. I have almost read everything in this library. The dead languages, I can read them as if they were plain common tongue. Even ones that I have never seen before. Last night was a first. I am not sure if it was real. Can I ask your help. I don't think I can face it alone.” Anthony said softly.

They ate in silence for a while. The grandfather clock ticked away the time and echoed through the room. Anthony could feel the estate was not cold anymore. The feeling had changed since his return. It was changing day by day, sometimes by the hour, with the more he was learning. It was as if he was at the edge of some big breakthrough, he just had to take another leap. He was growing tired of the never ending games around each corner. Why couldn't everything be straight forward. The most straight forward information he had gotten, was from the town drunk, who was now employed in the stable. Even that tale was very far fetched. Excalibur was fused with a nail from the Knights Templar on his land? He might as well have fairies shine his shoes.

“I feel like I am losing my mind. Its becoming a problem. I honestly don't know how much of this I can handle.” Anthony slammed his hands down on the table causing the china to rattle and bang. “For Christ's sake, I saw my parents last night.” He stood up, clearly losing what was left of his composure. “We can't go to America when I am clearly in need of a mad house.” He sat back down and put his head in his hands, trying to calm himself down. Flynn looked up at Anthony in puzzlement.

“Wait, what?” Flynn's eyes flashed with both confusion and excitement. “How is that possible?”

“I haven't the bloodiest clue. I think it's best if you just haul me off to the loony house now since I have willingly admit, I have lost all my marbles.” Anthony said. He put his head in his hand. He slumped over, absolutely defeated.

“I don't think you lost a single one.” Flynn said softly. His voice was low and calm. “Not that either of us has many to play with to begin with,” He chuckled. “Nor do I think either or us has a full deck of cards we are playing with, but I doubt your crazy.” He stood up and began to try to adjust Anthony's neck. “Alright, spit it out. We have both seen things that make us think we are going mad, so why not admit we are both going mad together. We shall bank on that idea if that makes you feel better.”

Anthony smiled and he began to relax. He never thought of it like that. He was so thankful he had Flynn here with him. He never understood a number of things about Flynn. He had watched his whole village perish. He had seen so much death and agony, yet here he was always trying to find the good. Anthony had his brush with pain and it hit him like a massive ton of bricks. It always clouded his judgment with all of his actions.

“Take a deep breath and take your time.” Flynn poured a cup of tea in front of Anthony. He pulled up a chair, close to Anthony, letting him know he had his full attention and support. “I think we should each make a promise to each other from here forward.” Flynn exclaimed. “It might make it easier on both of us. I know your not too keen on the medical stuff, but there are some odd things that have been going on with myself as well since that day in your grandfather's office. It might be easier for both of us if we are upfront to each other about what is going on. This way you won't think your crazy and neither will I.”

Anthony looked at him shocked. He never took one second to think that Flynn was having any side effects other than what Anthony had witnessed. A deep sinking feeling hit him in the pit of his stomach. How could he have been so selfish. Flynn had always had his back. It was time for Anthony to stop running and grow up.

“Alright, that's a deal.” Anthony stuck out his hand and they shook. “I might as well go first. I have seen quite a bit of what is going on with you. Other than looking like a bookworm and being able to decipher everything put in front of my nose, I don't think you know anything else.” Flynn shook his head no. Anthony let out a huge sigh of exasperation. “Ugh, so I have been keeping to myself of late. Its not healthy, I know.” He gestured. Flynn just rolled his eyes. “For the past few nights I have been trying everything to get some real sleep. Nothing has been working. I have been feeling a shift in the house. I know, it sounds absolutely batty. I can't explain that one, no matter how hard I try. That's not what has me asking to go to the asylum.” Anthony took a deep breath. He could feel the blood drain from his face as the memories of the night came back to him.

Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

“They were all there.” He was doing everything he could to hold back the tears. “I saw my mother, my father, MY GRANDFATHER!” His voice rose. “I am trying my best to make sense of it all. I got turned around, touched something in the room, then I was brought backwards in time almost. I could see and hear everything that was going on, but they did not know that I was there. As if I was in a picture, but it was alive, it even smelled real.”

“Do you recall what was said?” Flynn asked calmly.

“I do, that is what's bothering me.” He looked up at Flynn, a touch of rage in his eyes. “I know bits and pieces about my parents passing. I mean very little. There is a piece of paper, tucked in a book, still in that room, I think might have some meaning. I rather jump in a pit of snakes than venture in alone.” His breathing became shallow and rapid. “My father and grandfather were speaking about a possible betrayal in The Order. It sent my blood cold. I know my mother got sick, then my father contracted the same illness. I was young and I remember we never stayed in the same spot for very long. I have been thinking as to why? I remembered my grandfather got buried with this ring I have on my hand. I am thinking now he was buried with a copy.” Anthony said his stomach turning.

“You do play the role of spoiled rich kid very well,” Flynn diverted to lighten the mood.

“My ignorance was my shield,” his tone grim. “I have been thinking of that as well.”

“We did have a choice that day.” Flynn reminded him.

“No. I didn't, and lets be realistic, you didn't either. Instinct drove you, just like its taking over me right now. I feel this pull that I cant explain or control. I have no idea what it is or what is going on. It all started when I put on the damn ring. I have to get out of here.” Anthony said, his heart heavy.

“And you honestly think the company of the mentally unstable is going to be the best place for you?” Flynn laughed. “I can see it now...” he trailed off. “My dear Anthony, playing checkers by a window by himself with bars on it, while his neighbor tries to eat the checkers. Oh do write to me and let me know how your endeavor goes chap.” Anthony picked up a spoon and flung it at Flynn, who just howled with laughter even more.

“Okay, maybe I was being a bit over the top. I feel a bit calmer now. Will you come to the room with me. I don't want that event to happen again and you not be there. At least if it does, you can say I was sick or something. Have the staff drag me to a tub and not the horse trough.” Anthony squinted his eyes in dismay at Flynn.

“After we escort the brother and Mr. Burke to their rooms. I think that will be a perfect time to slip off and go, if you are okay to handle that?” Flynn questioned.

“That sounds great,” Anthony said.

“Its a good thing you are smelling better, and dressed. We are expecting them both for dinner. However I have a hunch knowing holy men and the fact your lordship has made the announcement about rebuilding the church, he might be headed out early to the grounds. We might want to head out now and scout out the area,” Flynn sighed.

“Agreed,” Anthony said as he grabbed one of the many overcoats hanging in the library.

The heavy weight seemed to have lifted off Anthony's shoulders for now as the two gentleman made their way to the lavish stable. They each chose a nice chestnut and headed down to the far side of the moors where the church lie in ruin. Anthony could already see where small stone shipments were being hauled in by horse drawn carts. He began to think if he had signed any paperwork for any of this. He put it in the back of his mind and realized there were tons of workers bringing him things all the time and he never paid any attention to most of it. Ignorance as his shield, it was rather helpful. If anyone had any suspicions on his public reputation, it was easy to see he was a confused young lord. He was trying to do right, overwhelmed and had a little too much love of the drink. It was an absolutely beautiful cover for anyone looking in, Order or no Order. He was a blunder and that was the truth.

Flynn looked over the busy sight. He was quite pleased at what he saw. He had a feeling that Anthony was extremely perplexed at the hustle and bustle that was going on. The budget had been sent to him almost immediately, as he had made the proclamation in the church. Flynn knew that he had just signed the paperwork and had zero idea what he was signing and scurried out of the room not to be bothered. He did the same thing in college. Old habits don't die, he thought. He would need to keep a more watchful eye on that part on his friend to make sure he didn't do something stupid, such as sign the manor away, he laughed in his head.

“I think that hansom over there might be our guests taking a look at our progress,” Flynn yelled out. He cracked the reins and his horse took off. Anthony followed. Mr. Burke was very easy to spot among the townsfolk in their dark browns, grays and greens. His sharp black suit stood out along the soft green of the life giving moor.

“Ah, Flynn! Anthony! How are you boys doing this fine day?” Mr. Burke said with a smile.

“Good fine English weather we are having sir!” Anthony said jovially. “We have a crack of sun in the sky, a fresh breeze and its not raining. I think we have the Lords blessing today?”

“Oof. Well there certainly is a lot of that going on. I think he's about blessed each rock.” Mr. Burke said pointing to the old brother walking around. He was leaning on a withered walking stick made from a wood not known to either Anthony or Flynn. In the other hand he held a very old book Anthony could tell was a bible. One he had not seen before, it was hand made, and by some quick process of elimination, he judged it might have been painstakingly hand written as well. “This is Brother Barnabas. You boys have a lot to learn about him. He will be your, eh, we shall say connection to the french ambassadors when you need them in the Americas. He is also your connection to the Vatican.” Flynn's eyes grew as large as dinner plates.

“I am not trying to be rude,” he craned his neck to take a second glance at the rambling old man. “You joking right?” He pointed to the old brother completely engulfed in his prayers. “He's probably as old as Moses.” Just then a rock hit the side of Flynn's head. The brother had a sheepish grin.

“No, not that old. However we all have our secrets.”

“Well, that showed you,” Anthony covered his mouth to hide his snicker. Flynn rubbed his head. They both dismounted from their horses and went over to pay respects to the brother. “Thank you for making the long journey Brother Barnabas. I am very thankful for your presence and your blessing of our church.”

“I just hope this time it holds.” He said worried. “I was sure the last time I was here and did the blessing, it was going to hold. Na'amah keeps figuring out a way to tamper with things,” he grumbled through his long beard. Flynn and Anthony looked at each other in disbelief. A cold chill ran down both their spines as the breeze from the moors danced across their cheeks.

“I wonder if he....” Anthony got a elbow to the ribs.

“Shhhhh.” Flynn hissed. “We will ask questions later. I know what you are seeing is a frail old man. Can you please trust me when I tell you there is a lot more than meets the eye here.” Flynn put his hand over his chest and his amulet began to radiate. He was still new to much of what gifts he had. His eyes were open to a new wonder while looking at Brother Barnabas. Things were not adding up. He couldn't explain what he was seeing or feeling, but somehow he knew his wounds. From the heart to the body and even the mind, he could see that there were several things ailing the elderly man.

Flynn walked over to the aging man and laid his hand on his frail shoulder. A painstaking smile came over Brother Barnabas.

“I appreciate your kindness.” He put his gnarled broken hand on top of Flynn's. “Nothing can fix what I have. I have earned each lash, each scar, because of my deeds. I wear them as a reminder. When I can finally sleep, I will be at peace with the Prince. For now I will be doing what I can to help, making this world a better place.” His eyes stared back into Flynn's, so broken and full of past pain. It was not something Flynn was expecting at all. As Flynn stared into his withered face, he could see beyond the wrinkles. “We need to have this conversation some place else. I see Mr. Burke was right about the both of you. However sometimes even the trees have ears.” He looked around a bit leery. He turned to Anthony. “Do you think you could humor an old man with some warm stew and a warm bed? It has been a long journey.” They all burst out laughing.

“Whatever you would like good brother! You just say the word. I will ride with haste back to the manor.” Anthony held out his hand and shook Brother Barnabas' hand with vigor.

“We won't be here too long boys.” Mr. Burke said. “I am sure Brother Barnabas just wants to inspect a few things.” The brother was already back to walking the hallowed ground, paying no attention to anyone. “I would greatly appreciate if you would get our rooms ready. It has been a long trip.”

“Can I say something really quick?” Flynn interjected. Mr. Burke raised his eyebrow.

“Yes, Flynn.”

“I am just going to address the elephant in the room here. If he's french then I am Catherine the Great,” Flynn huffed. “Am I the only one that noticed that he looks like he's well um, shall we say,” Flynn began to stumble over his words.

“From the middle east?” Mr. Burke smirked. “Things are not always what they seem. We will be along soon. If you have mutton stew I think that would be very fitting for dinner. He is a simple man, for the most part. He has lived a very complicated life, but that is for a later time. Now off you go.” He made a shooing motion with his hands and walked to the old brother, completely engulfed in his prayers along the hillside.

Anthony and Flynn mounted their steeds and made haste to the manor. Once they had put away the horses and made arrangements with the cooks and staff for the rooms, they sat once again in the library completely in dismay.

“Flynn, what happened, it looks like you have seen a ghost?” Anthony asked. “We made a promise that we would discuss what is going on.” Flynn looked over at Anthony. He was ever so thankful he was making good on his promise.

“I told you your not going mad. Alright lad, where is your stash. I know you keep a wee nip somewhere stashed in the books. I need a touch of yer brandy right now.” Flynn stated. Anthony stood up begrudgingly and got a flask that was tucked away deep between two old books.

“Damn you. I can't hide anything from you can I?”

“Not anything good,” Flynn laughed. He took in a deep swallow. Anthony looked very perplexed. He almost never saw his friend shaken like this. How could a little old brother make his friend so shaken, was beyond his grasp.

“What did he say to you? Is that why your upset?”

“No. Not really.” Flynn took another large swallow. The sweet tingle of liquid courage began to creep over him and warm him down to his toes. He slumped in the chair. “I don't think his real name is Barnabas. I'll be damned if it is. He's not wearing anything from The Order either. I can tell his age is well old, but not what you think.” Flynn put his head in his hands. “Oh for shites sake! Now I know how you felt a bit a ago.” He began to laugh. “This is a mind screw. All of it. It's so hard to put into words chap. I could almost see his wounds too, as a physician we have to question our patients. I don't need to anymore. I can just look at a person now and see what ails them. All patients lie, okay most of them. They don't want to tell you that they are out drinking or whoring. Most of the time a clean life will keep you healthy, they don't want to hear it. Not something I expected to get with the amulet. I can see when people walk by now, what is going on with them. I know our cook has a bad heart due to poor diet. He thought I was absolutely insane when I spoke with him. The man has not eaten a green vegetable in his life I think. Well it's going to kill him. Nothing I can do. Ya can lead a horse to water. With Brother Barnabas, the scars on him, lets just say I have no idea how a man could ever survive anything what he has been though, without divine intervention. Things do not add up. I can't make sense of any of it. Well on another note, at least the cook adds vegetables to our food. You might want to look at hiring the couple in the small inn we went too. I have been meaning to speak to you about that for a while. I think your cook, the way he's going, might have a month before he drops dead.” Flynn took another large swallow and handed the flask back to Anthony. “Hide that. I feel better now. Here I am preaching about good habits and I am hitting the flask like fish looking for water.”

“I had no idea you could see all that. I just thought the amulet could heal.” Anthony said very shaken.

“I guess as time goes on we will both figure this out as we go along.” Flynn sighed. “Your grandfather never said a word to you, but he had gifts of his own. Your just finding out now how long he lived. These men and women in The Order lived dozens of lifetimes, we are just now taking our first steps into figuring them out. We will, at least, have a lot of time to do it!” Flynn laughed sarcastically.

“Did you ever think, when you met me you would be in anything this crazy?” Anthony asked Flynn.

“Eh, ya looked like a wee bit of fun,” he laughed and rolled his eyes. “Bit on the priss side but why not? Anyone who had a good taste in brandy, stout ale, with a half of brain, I figured would carry on at least a good conversation.” He chuckled. “I think we have time before dinner to go to that room if we hurry. Are you ready?” Flynn asked hesitantly.

“If I don't get this over with, I think I will go mad. Lets get this over with once and for all.” They both got up in haste and ran through the halls of the manor to the deserted wing.

“Alright, this is it right?” Flynn said panting.

“Yes.” Anthony said catching his breath. This time the room was not whirling. There were no ghosts and his head was not cloudy. He patted himself down to make sure he was still all in one piece.

“You alright chap?”

“I think so.” Anthony's knees were still shaking. He stepped into the room gingerly and ran his hands over the comforter than once cradled his mothers body. The room still smelled of her lavender perfume. His heart missed her very much. His eye caught something out of place in the bookcase. “There.” Anthony pointed to a very old leather-bound book. His feet felt like lead as he began to approach it. He picked up the thick dusty book from the shelf. Anthony could feel great power resonating from the ancient text.

“Anthony, something fell out.” Flynn said. Anthony looked at the floorboard, lying face up was a small folded note. He knelt down and opened it.

“It's in my mother's handwriting and my father's as well. This is odd.” He choked.

“Are you alright to read it?” Flynn asked supportively.

“Yeah, give me a moment to collect my thoughts.” His hands shook as he held the delicate piece of scrap paper. It read:

My dear son, you must be brave. Even though I am no longer with you, physically, I will always be with you in spirit. Have faith in mankind and in yourself. I love you always. Affectionately yours, Mom

Anthony held back tears. “My father seemed straight to business it seemed.

Son, do what it takes to stay alive at all costs. Find Azrael. He has always been a friend and ally.

“Azrael, he's....” Anthony swallowed hard. He began to loose his balance and sat down on the floor.

“Anthony, is that who I think?” Flynn stammered. He sat down alongside Anthony. Anthony's ring began to emit warmth as he began to speak the words.

“Azrael, the angel of grief, the archangel of death. The pale rider, the fourth horseman.” Anthony whispered.