The Dove (40 page)

“Then Omar might be coming to Scotland?”  Luke perked up a bit.  He had missed his nephew more than he cared to admit.

“Perhaps.  It will be very difficult for him to face Hubur.  He will need help.”

“Yes.  What about Bari?”

“He will be going with us.”

“So you want me to send Sophia down to see you?”  Luke turned toward the door.

“Tell Il Dolce Mio to escort them down here, and see if you can find Simon.  It might be good if he were to come as well, if he is not too busy.”

“I’ll do what I can.”  Luke told him and disappeared into the growing twilight.

This time, the wait was longer.  Night fell and the stars came out in the sky like so many diamonds twinkling in the cloudless sky above the desert.  The path of the Milky Way was distinct, it almost seemed that one could have reached out and touched it.  Mark squinted at the western horizon in the direction in which he knew the comet would be coming.  The sky was familiar and without the slightest hint that anything was amiss.  When the sounds of tinkling bells approached, interrupting his musings, he saw a line of blue lights bobbing toward him across the battlefield.  The elven King had brought a sizable entourage with him.  Mark disappeared into the interior of the tent and waited for them to arrive.  He had no idea how his doppelganger would react to him.  He had managed to avoid him successfully so far, but he had simply been putting off the inevitable meeting until a more opportune moment.  Now, he felt there would never be an opportune moment and his palms were actually sweating as he waited to see who would come to see him first.  He sat drumming his fingers on the table in the light of a single electric lantern.

Simon stepped inside the tent and came to take a seat next to him.

“Do you think this is a good idea?”  The priest asked him at once out the corner of his mouth.

“It has to be done.  I should get it over with.”

“But how do you feel about Sophia?  I know that you were… interested in her at one time.”  Simon looked away from him.

“It was nothing.”

“It was something.  It has never been
nothing
with you, Brother.  I know you.”

“It should have been nothing.  It
will
be nothing.”

“Which would you see first or both together?”  Simon eyed him doubtfully.  “Do you want me to stay?”

“I would appreciate your company, but I would appreciate your silence.”  Mark told him bluntly.  “Sophia, first.”

“Done.”  Simon got up and went to call the woman inside.  She entered much as Luke Andrew had done… with great caution.  When she saw him, she drew a sharp breath in spite of herself.

“Sir Ramsay.”  She nodded and took a seat across from where Simon sat.

“Sophia.”  He rummaged about on the floor and came up with a bag of plastic cups.  A rarity, indeed.  He put out three of them and then produced another rare commodity.  Red wine.  Jozsef had traveled in style.

“Thank you.”  She took the cup and drank it down as if she were thirsting to death.

“I’m sorry for disturbing your rest.  I know we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”  He said slowly.

“It was no problem.  I was expecting it sooner or later.” 

“I want to thank you, first of all, for seeing after your charge.”

“My charge?  Is that what you call him?”  Sophia raised one eyebrow.

“I didn’t call you here to fight with you.”  His face reddened.  “I don’t know what to call him.”

“Try his name.  It should be familiar to you.”  She offered.

“All right then.  It doesn’t matter.  He can keep it.  It is, after all, his and not mine.  I was merely borrowing it.  All that aside, thank you for helping him.  I will cut right to the chase and ask you to continue to help him.  He loves you, no doubt.”

“No doubt.”  She nodded.

“Good.  And you?  Do you love him?”

“How could I not?”  She smiled genuinely.  “He is a good catch.”

Mark’s embarrassment deepened.  She was not making it any easier.

“I’m sure he is not quite so abrasive as I tend to be.”  He agreed.

“He is as pure as the driven snow, like a child, which brings me to what I would like to say for all the good it will do.  I don’t know what you intend to say to him, but I hope you will not confuse him anymore than necessary.  He was quite shocked when he met Luke Andrew, and he was even more perturbed when he saw Luke Matthew, whom, by the way, I thought was very rude to him.  He could have at least acknowledged him.  He is bewildered by all of this and his feelings are easily hurt.  He loves for people to speak to him.  He thinks it an honor to converse with men.”

“That is interesting.”  Mark pursed his lips.  “You will have to forgive my brother… his brother, Luke Matthew.  I believe the shock was mutual.  Luke is not a callous man.  He will come around.  I promise.  In fact, he has sworn to protect the both of you and you should not take such an oath lightly.  He would not make it, if he did not mean it.”

“That is a comfort.”  Sophia said and frowned at Simon.  The priest sat stone-faced across from her.  She wondered why he was there.

“I also wish to tell you two more things.”  Mark said abruptly.  “One is that I love you, Sophia, and I will do everything in my power to see that you are safe in all that you do, wherever you go, I will never be far from you.”

This announcement astounded her and shocked Simon as well. Sophia could not look at him or Simon.  She had not expected this.  She stared at her empty glass.  Her attitude had been one of defensive defiance.  She had expected to lose Mark now, once and for all.  Expected them to whisk him away in one direction and send her in another.

“Secondly,” Mark rushed on, “I know this is quite sudden, but you are pregnant and you must be very careful.”

Sophia’s mouth fell open in absolute surprise.  Simon’s eyebrows shot up, but he made no comment as promised.

“When the time comes, I expect Father Simon to attend you.”  He glanced at Simon.  “It will not be an easy birth, but the results will be well worth the trouble.”

“That is a terrible thing to simply dump on me, Mark Andrew,” Sophia started to get up and he caught her arm.  “This is preposterous!  How would you know?”

Simon coughed and cleared his throat, obviously bursting to say something, but he had promised.

“I am only trying to be honest.  Your husband will be a good father and he knows that his son will be special…”  Mark tried not to smile at her.  “I’ve heard it on good authority.”

“His son?”  Sophia fell sitting on the over-turned bucket.  “It is not your son?”

“Look,” Mark gazed up at the tent poles.  “I know this is no hillside in Judea and I am no singing cherubim, and I don’t have the personal magnetism of Gabriel, but I am telling you the same thing.  Consider it a message from God.”

“Saints preserve us!”  Simon almost shouted and then clamped his hand over his mouth.

“Simon!”  Mark frowned at him, and Simon nodded his head like a child.

“Father Simon knows what I am talking about if you have any questions.”  Mark returned his attention to the petrified woman.

“But this is ridiculous.  I am no Virgin Mary.”  She raised her voice and then leaned forward.  “Impossible!”

“Not impossible.  Just… unusual.  He was the virgin, not you.”  Mark had to suppress the smile again.  “Didn’t anyone ever warn you to be careful what you wish for?”

Sophia covered her face with her hands. 

“How did you know?  Were you there?”  She asked quietly.

“Not exactly.  Just trust me.”  Mark stood up and took her hand.  He pulled her from her seat and hugged her briefly before kissing her lips.  “Don’t be angry with him, Sophia.  He will make a good husband.”

Sophia shook her head slowly.

“Good bye, Sophia.”  Mark pushed her slightly toward the tent flap.  “Take care and remember that God is with you.”

She continued to shake her head as she stumbled toward the flaps.

“Go and fetch Mark Andrew Ramsay.”  He told Simon when she was gone.

Simon stood up, swayed and then caught the edge of the table.

Mark touched his arm and then withdrew his hand as Simon cringed from him visibly.

“Please do not touch me, My Lord.”  Simon looked down at the table.

“Simon, don’t do this.”  Mark’s eyes filled with tears.  “Don’t desert me now.”

“I can’t do this.”  Simon shook his head.

“Yes, you can.  Now go on.”

Simon walked slowly to the flaps of the tent and came back shortly, following behind Mark’s mirror image.  The first eye contact was like an electric shock, and then Sophia’s Mark fell on his knees and closed his eyes tightly as if waiting for the death blow… again.

“Simon!”  Mark Andrew jerked his head toward the terrified man.  “Pick him up.”

The priest pulled him from the floor and helped him into the chair at the head of the table.  He would not open his eyes and held onto the arms of the chair with all his might.

Mark Andrew walked the length of the table and stopped.  This was not going to work.

“Brother.”  He said quietly.  “Wait for him outside.”

Simon rushed out of the tent and dropped the flap behind him.  Mark knelt beside the chair and placed one hand on his image’s arm.

“Look at me, Mark Ramsay.”  He leaned close to him and took his chin in his other hand.  “Look at me!”

Mark snapped his dark blue eyes open and stared directly into his own face.  They locked eyes briefly and then both dropped their heads in mirror fashion.  Mark stood up and placed his hand on the other’s head.

“Thank you.”  He said quietly. 

The other looked up at him intensely.

“Thank you?”  He repeated the simple phrase.  “Is that all you have to say after so many years?”

“What would you have me say?”

Mark turned on his heel and left him sitting at the table.  No one moved or said a word when he exited the tent and walked away into the darkness.

Sophia entered the tent, signaling the rest of them to remain outside when Il Dolce Mio made a move to follow her.

Mark was still at the table, looking about the tent.  The solitary lamp cast deep shadows on his face and she was at first, afraid that she had them confused.  She stopped short of reaching for him and he took her hand instead and smiled at her.

“We are going home.”  He told her.

“Home?  Where is home, Mark?”  She asked.

“Scotland.  The most beautiful land in all the world, and all the flowers will bloom when they see you, Sophia.”

Chapter Fourteen
of Sixteen

And the nations were angry, and thy wrath is come,

and the time of the dead

Trouble came just as Mark Andrew had predicted and very early on.  Omar had spent the better part of the night speaking with McGuffy and his remaining officers, checking the wounded and healing them one by one, ignoring the pain under his own ribs where the terrible wound inflicted by the spear of Longinus was slowly healing of its own accord.  None of these men were old enough to remember the true Prophet of Allah and his presence among them, touching them and asking about their pain, and their families and their faith and their hopes and dreams appalled and frightened them.  This was not the Prophet they had come to know on this disastrous campaign, but his persistence and his words and manner of speech soon changed their opinions and when the sun cleared the horizon, he had his men in formation and ready to begin the long trek back to New Babylon. 

They had salvaged the ruined battlefield and assembled what was left of the vehicles, camels and horses in an orderly formation at the northern end of the field.  The representatives of the European courts and the Papal authorities had gathered further on toward the northwest. 

Il Dolce Mio’s elves were scattered about the ruins of Tel Megiddo, watching the armies form up with great interest.  Eduord de Goth rode at the head of his column as they parted company with the rest of the Northern troops and made their way down to join the Templar forces.  The Knights of Jerusalem were decked out with very fine weaponry and uniforms, riding some of Corrigan’s finest horses.  Their arms consisted of a combination of ancient and modern weapons, including swords, daggers, crossbows, longbows, maces, pistols, rifles, grenades, mortars and missile launchers.  Some even carried the most advanced weapons developed before the world wars set every thing back several decades. 

Many of his more complex weapons had laser guidance systems which required connections with the defunct satellites still aloft in decaying orbits, but he had modified them to work in a more conventional manner. They had come prepared for a battle, and Eduord reported that they had been sorely disappointed to arrive too late.  Their clothing was white, tan and brown and well chosen for desert warfare.  Eduord had done very well for himself and among the Europeans, who had come down through the straits of the Bosporus, he had the finest army, if not the largest.  Everyone in the vicinity stopped to watch as the Knights of Jerusalem rode by and many cast a jealous eye on his warriors while others looked on with a twinge of fear in their hearts.