[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
Torquil's hands was also pressed to that wound, but to little avail.
The bruised and broken ?ngers of Christoph's other hand were locked tight around a splinter-shaped
fragment of stone. Only at second glance did Arnault realize that it was, in fact, the sacred Shard, its light
quenched, its power apparently exhausted. Tears were runneling down Torquil's bearded cheeks as he
held Christoph close, lips pressed to the dying man's forehead as he crooned soft sounds of comfort.
Behind him, other members of the Templar party had begun picking their way up the turnpike stair,
swords in hands, dazed and cautious, only to recoil at the sight of their fallen leader. Wordlessly Breville
herded them back a few paces to kneel in vigil as, with a sinking feeling in his stomach, Arnault gently laid
one hand over Christoph's on the Shard.
"Dare we move him?" he asked Torquil.
Torquil shook his head, barely able to speak.
"Even if it weren't for the wound," he managed to choke out, "I doubt there's a bone in his body that isn't
broken."
At that, Christoph's bruised eyelids ?uttered open, pain evident in the pale eyes; but when he saw
Arnault's face above him, an expression of relief trans?gured his broken features.
"Praise. be to God," he murmured. "Le Cercle remains yet unbroken."
He made a struggling move as if to sit up, but both his benefactors gently restrained him, though their very
touch obviously caused him further pain.
"Christoph, no," Arnault murmured. "Rest easy, old friend. Save your strength."
Christoph ceased trying to sit, but drew a labored breath, slowly shaking his head. "No need.now. I
have. poured out my life as an oblation, Arnault. In its ending, I have been faithful." He paused to draw
another raggedbreath.
"You lay senseless as one of Nogaret's minions took his ring," he went on. "That, I could not stop. but I
gladly paid the price to prevent him taking this." Trembling with the effort, he made his broken ?ngers
relax enough to let Arnault's hand cup over the Shard.
"For a last battle," he continued, his voice growing more threadlike as he spoke, "this was a worthy one, I
think. You are senior now. Lead the Order to survival, Arnault. Promise me." His gaze sought Arnault's
with a look of burning urgency.
"I will do my best," Arnault managed to whisper. "You have my word."
Christoph's ?ngers twitched under his, and a faint smile brie?y ?itted across the battered lips as he
nodded, starting to lose focus.
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"Your word." he whispered, "and His. His Word shall go before me. as a Pillar of Fire by night. and as a
Pillar of Cloud shall I follow it by day."
"Christoph." Arnault began.
But the dying man's strength was nearly gone.
"Non nobis, Domine." he managed to whisper, his voice trailing into a breathless sigh as he slipped into
unconsciousness. But in that instant, Torquil suddenly seized Arnault's arm with his free hand.
"Arnault! Didn't Iskander say that the silk he gave us was a healing talisman?"
Arnault's hand ?ew to his breast, hand ?at against the bulge of the pouch that contained the silk.
"He said we must ask from the heart, if ever we needed to invoke its healing powers," he said, his eyes
wide as he fumbled urgently in his tunic for the pouch and pulled it out, wrenching at the silk inside.
Breville had moved closer, and was urgently motioning for the others to join him.
"Brothers, come and lend us your prayers and your faith!" Arnault cried, as he shook out the silk.
"Torquil, lay him ?at. Keep pressure on his wound!"
Christoph moaned as Torquil shifted him onto the stairs, as horizontal as he could manage-still alive, at
least. That part of Arnault that must always doubt noted that the healing talisman, with its angels and
words of power, might well become Christoph's shroud; but he pushed those doubts from his mind as he
spread the embellished silk over the dying man's recumbent form so that angel wings enfolded him, and
the images of the holy nails lay over his hands and feet. The Shard of the Law still lay in one slack hand.
Now Arnault must ask from his heart, if he dared to hope for the grace that might still save Christoph, if
only their faith was strong enough. The heart with its Crown of Thorns fell over Christoph's heart, and
Arnault laid one hand atop it as he laid his other over his own heart, bowing his head in desperate prayer.
Under the silk, both Torquil's hands were pressed to the wound in Christoph's side, and his tears were
falling onto Arnault's hand. The tears were welling in Arnault's eyes as well as he drew forth the
words-inadequate, mere words-or, were they?
"God of Israel, Word Incarnate, Sacred Heart, Chief of chiefs. omit not this man from Thy covenant."
hewhispered. "Of Thy grace, O Lord, if it be Thy will, restore Thy servant Christoph to Thy service. Not
to us, Lord, not to us but unto Thy Name be the glory."
He paused to swallow, searching for more words, but could ?nd none save for scripture. But they were
words of the Word, that he had heard all his life, at the conclusion of every Mass; and with the Shard of
the Law beneath his hand, the very Word of God, the words took on new meaning as he spoke them
now.
"In principio erat Verbum."
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. The same was in
the beginning with God. All things were made by Him; and without Him was not any thing made that was
made. In Him was life; and the life was the light of men. And the light shineth in darkness; and the
darkness comprehended it not.
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And suddenly, as the words whispered from Arnault's lips, light did, indeed, shine in the darkness,
coming from underneath the silken talisman that covered Christoph. Arnault heard the soft intake of
breath from the others watching, saw Torquil slowly raise his head to gaze in wonder at the light
streaming up his wrists from beneath the silk, where his hands were pressed to Christoph's wound.
Then Arnault felt Christoph's chest stir under his hand, rising and falling-once, again!-as the light slowly
faded and Christoph's hand moved beneath the silk and drew it back from his face, wonder in his eyes.
"Christoph?" Arnault dared to breathe, as the pale eyes blinked away heavenly visions and then drifted to
lock on Arnault's.
"I had the most extraordinary dream," Christoph said.
His other hand also stirred underneath the silk, to emerge with the Shard, now softly glowing. He smiled
as he offered it to Arnault.
"This is your charge, I think," he said softly.
Speechless, Arnault held out his hand and let Christoph lay the Shard on his palm. The light faded, but he
could feel the tingle of its power, now restored.
"You must use it to erect the Fifth Temple," Christoph said briskly, sitting up with no sign of lingering
weakness. "There lies such survival as is ordained for the Order-in Scotland, with your Bruce.
"As for me, what has happened has made it clear that my work from this point lies here in France, doing
what I can to ease the spirits of our incarcerated brethren, and serving That which I took to safety, as
priest. I am soldier no longer-but you must be."
Nodding, still speechless, Arnault closed his hand around the Shard and watched Torquil begin
methodically folding the silk of the talisman. As he did so, Breville and the other watching knights rose
and came closer, the former according Arnault a sober salute.
"We await your orders, MaRtre," he said quietly. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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Torquil's hands was also pressed to that wound, but to little avail.
The bruised and broken ?ngers of Christoph's other hand were locked tight around a splinter-shaped
fragment of stone. Only at second glance did Arnault realize that it was, in fact, the sacred Shard, its light
quenched, its power apparently exhausted. Tears were runneling down Torquil's bearded cheeks as he
held Christoph close, lips pressed to the dying man's forehead as he crooned soft sounds of comfort.
Behind him, other members of the Templar party had begun picking their way up the turnpike stair,
swords in hands, dazed and cautious, only to recoil at the sight of their fallen leader. Wordlessly Breville
herded them back a few paces to kneel in vigil as, with a sinking feeling in his stomach, Arnault gently laid
one hand over Christoph's on the Shard.
"Dare we move him?" he asked Torquil.
Torquil shook his head, barely able to speak.
"Even if it weren't for the wound," he managed to choke out, "I doubt there's a bone in his body that isn't
broken."
At that, Christoph's bruised eyelids ?uttered open, pain evident in the pale eyes; but when he saw
Arnault's face above him, an expression of relief trans?gured his broken features.
"Praise. be to God," he murmured. "Le Cercle remains yet unbroken."
He made a struggling move as if to sit up, but both his benefactors gently restrained him, though their very
touch obviously caused him further pain.
"Christoph, no," Arnault murmured. "Rest easy, old friend. Save your strength."
Christoph ceased trying to sit, but drew a labored breath, slowly shaking his head. "No need.now. I
have. poured out my life as an oblation, Arnault. In its ending, I have been faithful." He paused to draw
another raggedbreath.
"You lay senseless as one of Nogaret's minions took his ring," he went on. "That, I could not stop. but I
gladly paid the price to prevent him taking this." Trembling with the effort, he made his broken ?ngers
relax enough to let Arnault's hand cup over the Shard.
"For a last battle," he continued, his voice growing more threadlike as he spoke, "this was a worthy one, I
think. You are senior now. Lead the Order to survival, Arnault. Promise me." His gaze sought Arnault's
with a look of burning urgency.
"I will do my best," Arnault managed to whisper. "You have my word."
Christoph's ?ngers twitched under his, and a faint smile brie?y ?itted across the battered lips as he
nodded, starting to lose focus.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
"Your word." he whispered, "and His. His Word shall go before me. as a Pillar of Fire by night. and as a
Pillar of Cloud shall I follow it by day."
"Christoph." Arnault began.
But the dying man's strength was nearly gone.
"Non nobis, Domine." he managed to whisper, his voice trailing into a breathless sigh as he slipped into
unconsciousness. But in that instant, Torquil suddenly seized Arnault's arm with his free hand.
"Arnault! Didn't Iskander say that the silk he gave us was a healing talisman?"
Arnault's hand ?ew to his breast, hand ?at against the bulge of the pouch that contained the silk.
"He said we must ask from the heart, if ever we needed to invoke its healing powers," he said, his eyes
wide as he fumbled urgently in his tunic for the pouch and pulled it out, wrenching at the silk inside.
Breville had moved closer, and was urgently motioning for the others to join him.
"Brothers, come and lend us your prayers and your faith!" Arnault cried, as he shook out the silk.
"Torquil, lay him ?at. Keep pressure on his wound!"
Christoph moaned as Torquil shifted him onto the stairs, as horizontal as he could manage-still alive, at
least. That part of Arnault that must always doubt noted that the healing talisman, with its angels and
words of power, might well become Christoph's shroud; but he pushed those doubts from his mind as he
spread the embellished silk over the dying man's recumbent form so that angel wings enfolded him, and
the images of the holy nails lay over his hands and feet. The Shard of the Law still lay in one slack hand.
Now Arnault must ask from his heart, if he dared to hope for the grace that might still save Christoph, if
only their faith was strong enough. The heart with its Crown of Thorns fell over Christoph's heart, and
Arnault laid one hand atop it as he laid his other over his own heart, bowing his head in desperate prayer.
Under the silk, both Torquil's hands were pressed to the wound in Christoph's side, and his tears were
falling onto Arnault's hand. The tears were welling in Arnault's eyes as well as he drew forth the
words-inadequate, mere words-or, were they?
"God of Israel, Word Incarnate, Sacred Heart, Chief of chiefs. omit not this man from Thy covenant."
hewhispered. "Of Thy grace, O Lord, if it be Thy will, restore Thy servant Christoph to Thy service. Not
to us, Lord, not to us but unto Thy Name be the glory."
He paused to swallow, searching for more words, but could ?nd none save for scripture. But they were
words of the Word, that he had heard all his life, at the conclusion of every Mass; and with the Shard of
the Law beneath his hand, the very Word of God, the words took on new meaning as he spoke them
now.
"In principio erat Verbum."
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. The same was in
the beginning with God. All things were made by Him; and without Him was not any thing made that was
made. In Him was life; and the life was the light of men. And the light shineth in darkness; and the
darkness comprehended it not.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
And suddenly, as the words whispered from Arnault's lips, light did, indeed, shine in the darkness,
coming from underneath the silken talisman that covered Christoph. Arnault heard the soft intake of
breath from the others watching, saw Torquil slowly raise his head to gaze in wonder at the light
streaming up his wrists from beneath the silk, where his hands were pressed to Christoph's wound.
Then Arnault felt Christoph's chest stir under his hand, rising and falling-once, again!-as the light slowly
faded and Christoph's hand moved beneath the silk and drew it back from his face, wonder in his eyes.
"Christoph?" Arnault dared to breathe, as the pale eyes blinked away heavenly visions and then drifted to
lock on Arnault's.
"I had the most extraordinary dream," Christoph said.
His other hand also stirred underneath the silk, to emerge with the Shard, now softly glowing. He smiled
as he offered it to Arnault.
"This is your charge, I think," he said softly.
Speechless, Arnault held out his hand and let Christoph lay the Shard on his palm. The light faded, but he
could feel the tingle of its power, now restored.
"You must use it to erect the Fifth Temple," Christoph said briskly, sitting up with no sign of lingering
weakness. "There lies such survival as is ordained for the Order-in Scotland, with your Bruce.
"As for me, what has happened has made it clear that my work from this point lies here in France, doing
what I can to ease the spirits of our incarcerated brethren, and serving That which I took to safety, as
priest. I am soldier no longer-but you must be."
Nodding, still speechless, Arnault closed his hand around the Shard and watched Torquil begin
methodically folding the silk of the talisman. As he did so, Breville and the other watching knights rose
and came closer, the former according Arnault a sober salute.
"We await your orders, MaRtre," he said quietly. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]