Nightbringer (19 page)

Read Nightbringer Online

Authors: James Byron Huggins

BOOK: Nightbringer
11.39Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

No larger than a typical small church it seemed that it had once been a cavern but had
been enlarged from the granite by hammer and chisel. She saw endless narrow grooves along the walls and felt amazement at the hours and steady labor it must have required. It was a testament to the dedication men once held for their religion—to chisel a sacred place of worship out of solid granite for whatever magnificent purpose.

But there was nothing magnificent about this cube of empty space within solid stone. But for its size, it could have been a tomb. Then Gina saw Cassius standing in the center, strangely immobile and
she walked forward, sensing rather than seeing that there was something terrible before him.

As she passed his wide shoulders, she saw that the back of the sanctuary had caved in. And the wall, she noticed, was far different from the others.

Where the others were scarred with iron, this one was perfectly smooth but for the gaping hole in the center behind what had been a stone altar.

Cassius slowly lowered Melanchthon and Barnabas to the floor. Then he expelled a long breath as he stood, and Gina asked, "What is it?"

"It's gone into a cavern beneath the abbey," Cassius intoned solemnly. "I needed to know."

"Know what?"

"If it had discovered the entrance."

"
This goes to the catacombs?"

"No." He shook his head. "
It leads to another cavern far beneath this place—a place far deeper than the catacombs. I walled up this entrance long ago so that no man would ever trespass there."

Gina had to know. "Why did you wall it up?"

His voice was so weary that Gina feared he was about to surrender to this ageless struggle.

"Because it contains what man
must not possess," was all he said. "I should go to make sure it’s safe. But we have to wait for Melanchthon and Barnabas to awaken. We can’t leave them."

Gina studied Melanchthon's head. There were several
discernible marks, but the most serious was the cut on his forehead. Barnabas seemed to be resting peacefully, the blood of his many wounds having been stanched thanks to Melanchthon's hasty first-aid job.


They might not wake up for quite a while," Gina murmured. “Are you sure we can take the chance?”

"It's a chance I'll take for as long as I can." Cassius stepped to the entrance of the sanctuary where old wood lay in a heap. He retrieved a handful of shattered boards and set them against a wall. "We'll stay warm until they wake."

There was no arguing with him. Gina knew that, in this, he was in total command. The thought of argument didn't even arise in her, for she recognized the futility of it.

Experiencing a vicious bodily alarm of endless aches, bruises, and those indescribable painful muscles that one knew they possessed only when they were
moving, Gina slowly sat. She coughed, realizing her lungs were beginning to gather fluid.

It was incredible what she was enduring. After this she could qualify for SWAT. And she wondered what type of superhuman endurance Cassius must possess. It wasn't natural—certainly not what a man could achieve in a normal life span. And, knowing more deeply that it was just an excuse, she said, "So
... two thousand years. Mind if I ask how?"

Eyes closed, Cassius laughed gently. "I was wondering when you were going to get around to that."

His laugh, thankfully, made her relax. Until this second she wasn't certain whether he was going to shut her down or open up. She breathed easier knowing it was the latter.

"You laugh
. But I guess you know how something like this can shake a person up."

His smile was almost a grimace. "Believe me, I know." He seemed to grow more considerate, even pensive. "I've seen it time after time. Monsignor DeMarco's handlers didn't open this abbey for the good of mankind. They opened it to lure me back, hoping I would reveal to them the treasure they
want to claim."

"The spear?"

His voice became distant. "Fools ... they seek a holy weapon—a weapon that they think contains the power of God." His expression was bitter. "Holy wars, noble crusades, heroic quests for ancient relics that mean less than nothing now, but for what men make of them."

Gina shifted so she could more clearly see his face, but when he looked at her again, she could read nothing in his eyes. And she could only surmise that it was because he was no longer concealing what she had already known.

Still, it was as if she were looking into the eyes of a lion or tiger. What was there simply could not be understood.

Cassius asked, "How do you feel?"

"Fine," she replied, touching her forehead.

"You've got a bruise—maybe a concussion. But you should be all right by tomorrow."

She stared at his forearm. The bandage was soaked with fresh blood. "You're still bleeding."

"I know."

"The wound is deep."

"Not deep enough."

Which led into what Gina wanted to know. "How is it that you're so strong, Cassius? Is that part of the gift?"

"The only thing that reduces a man's strength is that he must eventually grow old. Only age reduces his strength, his endurance, whatever. And just as a man gets stronger even into his sixties, if old age did not begin, he would continue to get stronger with each decade." He shrugged. "I'm strong, but it's only because I've lived so long."

Surprisingly, that made sense. Gina realized she'd been searching for a more cosmic explanation, but, like most things, the most obvious answer was probably correct. "I was expecting something more dramatic," she muttered.

"Sorry to disappoint you."

In the ensuing silence Gina allowed herself to wonder how this man could even relate to a normal human being when he had, doubtless, witnessed the fall of a hundred nations, the conquest of Rome, and had probably accompanied history's greatest figures in journeys, wars and trials. She could only imagine all that he had seen and what he had done. Then she thought of Barnabas and the seemingly secret bond he shared with Cassius. She wanted to know.

Cassius nodded slowly. "At the beginning of World War II, I found Barnabas in the ruins of a village near Lausanne. His parents had been killed. I couldn't leave him, so I brought him here. When I haven't been hunting something that had to be destroyed, I've spent time just as you
have. I've worked at a trade, made good friends, enjoyed life."

"People always talk about how it would be a curse to be an immortal," Gina said absently. "They hypothesize that you get tired of seeing friends and family die. How you can't love anyone because they will grow old and you won't."

He was strangely still. "True ... But I've never wanted to die. And I have loved more than once. Love—true love—is more than strong enough to survive age ... and death. It's no different for me than anyone else. And sometimes I've loved despite myself. It happens." He sighed. "You live long enough, everything happens."

"I guess you're living proof of that." Gina muttered. "Do you know how it happened?"

He studied her.

"How you became an immortal
?"

"Oh
... that ... No, I don't know for certain. I saw Him raise the dead again and again."

"You mean, like Lazarus? You were there?"

"No." Cassius shook his head. "I wasn't there when He raised Lazarus. But believe me, I heard about it. But there were others. Jesus did a lot of things that aren't recorded in what you call your bible." His tone was stunningly casual. "I watched Him for two years and I never tired of it—not for one moment."

"What was He like?" Gina asked, and from the center of her, she wanted to know. In fact, she felt slightly amazed at how much she wanted to know.

Cassius laughed lightly. "He laughed a lot. That's what I remember about Him most." He leaned back against the wall. "I wonder, like that painting in the Hall, why everyone portrays Him as a man of such sorrow."

"He wasn't?"

"Yes," Cassius said with a vague gesture. "Yes, He knew great sorrow—probably greater than anyone that ever lived. But He also laughed and ... and He
enjoyed
people—all kinds of people.

"I had seen
thousands of people cry—the very poor, the sick—and I had never seen them smile. But when He was with them they laughed and sang as if they didn't have a worry in the world. And He wasn't constantly performing miracles. Sometimes He was just there and people would stay at His side until they were starving and fainting just because they couldn't bear to leave."

"So the Bible is true?" Gina asked and didn't blink as he turned his eyes on her.

Cassius smiled. "If I tell you it's not true, you wouldn't believe me. What does it matter what I say?"

"Because you were there, Cassius."

"Yeah, I was there. And so were many that didn't believe despite what they saw Him do. You want to know the truth, don't you? So do I. But you know something? I can't. And neither can you. Neither of us will know fully until we leave this world."

"But you saw Him."

"Yes, I saw Him. But I never spoke to Him." He paused thoughtfully. "I did have a friend, though—another centurion—whose servant that he loved like a son was healed simply because Jesus spoke. Scipio was never the same after that. He died years later, when Caligula ordered all centurions loyal to the Christian God executed by their brother centurions. But until the moment of his death Scipio worshipped that Messiah."

"What about you?" Gina asked.

"I had already left Jerusalem and Rome. I was no longer part of that world." He sighed. "I didn't know of the decimation until I returned to Israel forty years later when Tiberius laid siege to Jerusalem. I went to fight with the Jews, but there was no fighting left to do. They were betrayed from within and the city fell almost without a blow. I cut my way through surrounding legions and escaped into the desert." A pause. "I've fought many wars. I've come close to death many times, but that was one of the narrowest fights."

"So you can die," Gina announced, musing that being age-less didn't prevent him from being killed.

"If a man bleeds, he can die. Yes, I can die—like you or anyone else." It was as if he were watching thousands upon thousands of pages lifting, as if blown by the wind, before him. "I can't count the number of times I thought myself dead. But the will to live is great—greater than many know."

"I heard you call him 'Messiah.'"

As if a mask settled on his face—a mask of grief—Cassius stared long into the flames. "I believe He was the Messiah, born to save this world. And we crucified Him, and I ... died that day ... died in a lot of different ways.

"I was the one who presided over His torture, His death. And only at the last
... did I understand. But it was too late. He was already dead, not that I could have prevented it. No one could have prevented it.

"Then, three days later, He rose from the dead
... as I knew He would." He took a breath. "I was there in the area of the tomb and saw Him. He was standing on a low hill and there was a single tree there—I can still see it—and He just stood there, staring over Jerusalem as if He had all the time in the world. I couldn't move. I had watched Him die. But then He turned His head and looked directly at me and ... smiled." Cassius' face was purest wonder. "He smiled...."

"Did He say anything?"

"No." Cassius laughed. "He didn't have to."

“When did you realize
you had become immortal?"

He shrugged. "I continued to live, and it dawned on me little by little. There was no bright light, no announcement. It was something I came to understand as the years passed. But it was not the greatest change in my life. The greatest change came the hour He died, and my eyes and hand were healed."

"Your eyes?"

Cassius seemed wearier, and Gina began to worry.

"Until the hour of His crucifixion, I was nearly blind with cataracts." He stretched out his hand. "Men looked like trees walking around in the street. In fact, that's why I was stationed in Jerusalem. I was no longer considered fit to command a legion. But in that hour my eyes were healed. Nor, since then, have I known a single day of sickness."

"And your hand?"

"Ah..." He smiled and lifted his right hand before his face, staring into the palm. "I sliced it open on my spear after I pierced His side. And, moments later, it was healed."

Gina was surprisingly comfortable but didn't know how and didn't try to know. She didn't care to overanalyze it.

"So, this Raphael ... Is he an old friend of yours?"

Cassius stared into the flames. "Long I've tracked him across this world—through battlefield after battlefield. Through cities left in ruins. Through countries devastated by disease. But he always managed to escape me—for nearly a thousand years—until now."

"Do you think he would come here?"

“Actually, t
his was the last place I thought he would hide."

There was something tragic about his tone that caused Gina to concentrate on the pensive brow. Her voice was quieter than she would have preferred. "Cassius..."

Other books

Alive by Chandler Baker
Trouble in Cowboy Boots by Desiree Holt
Entranced by Jessica Sorensen
Montana 1948 by Larry Watson
Big Decisions by Linda Byler
The Convenient Marriage by Georgette Heyer
The Budapest Protocol by Adam LeBor