Sample Sunday ~ Feb. 27, 2011

The Red Cross of Gold II:. The King of Terrors

Chapter Ten of Twenty-Five
Terrors shall make him afraid on every side, and shall drive him to his feet.


“Valentino was right!” Mark Andrew raised his head and coughed out the words before blowing his nose loudly in his handkerchief. “Merry had no interest in me, Brother. She has what she wants…. My son! I was a fool, Lucio. Again.”

“You are taking this too hard, Brother,” Lucio tried to talk to him. It was useless. It sickened him to hear Mark Andrew speak of Merry in such terms. His Brother was in the deepest despair, but he no longer seemed as angry as before. Lucio had never witnessed such depth of feelings for any woman. The Will of God was a comforting thing in deed. The blame for everything good and evil could be attributed to this one thing though he hardly thought the Creator capable of creating evil, he did feel that evil was something that God allowed one to bring upon one’s self in order to teach life’s lessons. It seemed a shame to him that Mark learned his lessons in such a harsh manner. But even the immense emotional suffering of his Brother gave him a twinge of jealousy.

“How could I have been so stupid? So arrogant?” Mark was a bit calmer now, but his voice was still hoarse from crying. “Tell me, Brother. And what did she do to poison the boy against me so that he can’t even speak to me? He was terrified of me. Tell me, Brother!”

“I can’t tell you anything,” Lucio sighed. “I would have had to hear it myself to judge. It is not the end of the world.”

“No? Oh, yes, that’s right,” Mark’s tone changed. He rolled down the window and threw the monogrammed handkerchief into the wind viciously. “What was I thinking? That’s what we’re waiting on. The end of the world so we can go into battle for God. God… who has done this to me. And to you.”

“No,” Lucio looked at him in alarm. “You must not say such things! It is dangerous.”

“Dangerous! I’ll tell you what is dangerous, Brother,” Mark Andrew slammed his fist against the dash of the car again. Certainly they would have to buy the whole car if he kept destroying it. “The company of women is dangerous. Just like the damned Rule says.”

Lucio sighed. He could not have imagined this would happen, but it was understandable. Seven years was, after all, a long time in a normal life. Perhaps not to the Council of Twelve, but to the rest of the world, it was a long time. He only wished that he could have spoken with her on his Brother’s behalf. He wondered what Mark Andrew had said to her and could imagine what it might have been. Mark Andrew was good on paper. It was Lucio Dambretti who had the silver tongue. Ramsay should have sent him as an emissary as had been the custom of old. He could have arranged everything, he felt sure. He could have had her primed and ready to say ‘I do’ even as Mark Andrew walked through her door. And he could have drawn up the marriage agreement as well, but the world had changed.

“Perhaps you need a mediator,” he suggested hopefully.

“For what?” Mark looked at him and then put his hand over his mouth. “Pull over.”

Lucio bounced the car off the highway and barely missing a large rural mailbox before he managed to stop. Mark Andrew opened the door and crawled out on the side of the road. Lucio sat under the steering wheel staring at the next mailbox, wondering who else lived out here in this godforsaken country. It was the same stretch of deserted country highway where the cows had attacked the van that he and Simon d’Ornan had been waiting in for Sir Beaujold. He looked around quickly in the moonlight, but saw no cattle in the pastures beyond the fencing. He climbed out of the car and went round to find his Brother heaving up his latest meal. An unnerving sight. The Italian tried to remember the last time he had seen his Brother sick…. A long, long time ago. Roasted rat did not agree with the Scot’s constitution any more than a broken heart it would seem.
When he was done, Lucio helped him up and offered his own monogrammed handkerchief. Mark snatched the cloth, wiped his mouth and threw it in the ditch without hesitation.

“It is the Will of God, Brother,” Lucio told him and received a punch in his ribs from Ramsay’s elbow as the man suddenly turned on him.

“Don’t tell me about the Will of God!” Mark shouted at him and shoved him back against the fender of the car. “If He were here this moment I would show Him the edge of my sword.”

“You are beside yourself, Brother,” Lucio lowered his head and rubbed his tender ribs. He had never heard anyone express a desire to kill God. He knew that Mark Andrew was only taking out his frustration on the nearest object… himself. It had happened many times before, just not quite this bad. He should have seen it coming.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Mark continued and pressed his hands to the sides of his head. “I would kill Him and set the world free of his tyranny.”

“I know enough to know that you are out of your mind with grief and you don’t know what you are saying,” Lucio told him and then had to duck as Mark Andrew took a swing at him.

Lucio backed around the front of the car to get away from him. There was no telling what the man would do if the Italian allowed him to knock him out here in the middle of nowhere.
“Don’t do this, Brother,” Lucio warned him.

Mark Andrew was in a fit of rage. Words were useless. The Italian was suddenly very grateful that the golden sword was carefully tucked into the trunk of the car when the Scot swung at him again.
Lucio dodged the heavy-handed shots and waited for the opportune moment to present itself. He let him swing again and then punched him once in his weakest spot, his stomach. Mark doubled over. Lucio grabbed his shoulder, pulled him up and delivered one well placed blow on his jaw. He had done it before. Too simple. All you had to know was where the weak spots. He caught his Brother up under the arms and deposited him back in the car before slamming the door.

“It is the Will of God, whether you agree or not,” he said with finality as he dusted off his hands.