Rare Things for a Rare Life

The Knights of Joshua

by Tiana Dokerty © 1984-2021

Home | Chapter 26 | Chapter 28

Chapter 27: Discoveries 159 AK, Summer

Psalm 40:3 And he hath put a new song in my mouth, even praise unto our God: many shall see it, and fear, and shall trust in the LORD.

Alexandria

Alexandria

Despite having left the Overhills and the southern knights in high spirits, Jonathan’s worries resurfaced. Thoughts of loss nagged at him. As did fears his daughter was gone forever. Staying off roads and avoiding even those passing through secluded areas left too much time to think.

Except for seeing her in the cage cart, it had been fifteen years since he’d laid eyes on Rebekah.

He could not imagine the young woman his daughter had, hopefully, grown into.

And despite his brief meeting and reconciliation with his son, the knights considered David a traitor as one of the architects of the Dunis Glenn Massacre. That too would have to be rectified and the knights reformed before taking on Melazera.

With each step, the future seemed bleaker. It threatened to overcome him. He could see no solution. The darkness filling his thoughts would not be dispelled. Still, he did not stop. One footfall after another, he moved onward .

“I will fear no evil, Father,” he prayed. “Please, let me end this.”

He saw a dozen armed horsemen approaching. Not soldiers, but they were ready to strike. Jonathan spurred his horse to evade, veering towards the mountain.

They split, flanking him, then closed in.

Go with them, the still small voice said.

Gregory Locke, Duke of Alexandria, was standing in the center of the room gazing out a window when Jonathon was ushered in. He turned to face his ‘guest’. “Welcome, Sir O’Toole.”

Servants followed carrying platters of fruit and flagons of wine, which they set on a table surrounded by chairs.

The knight bowed. “How can I be of service, my Lord?”

He is confident. Good. Gregory sat. “I have questions. I have had them for quite some time. Then I heard the leader of the ‘rebel knights’ was within my domain. I sent men to fetch you. I hope you were not too disconcerted by them. But I didn’t want you to disappear.”

Jon frowned. “They certainly surprised me, and impressed me with their quick reactions.” He bowed again. “I am happy to answer your questions, but I am no rebel and no leader either.”

A touch of flattery and humility is wise. Gregory smiled.

“Sit,” he waved the knight toward the table, “I’ve been told so many fantastical stories of you. I am excited to finally meet you. I’ve also heard you play chess. Is that so?

Jonathon nodded. “Yes, my Lord, I enjoy the game.”

“Wonderful!” The duke said with a laugh. “Please have something to eat and revitalize yourself. Then, I plan to test your mettle… on the board.” He gestured, then servants brought an ornate chess table to the center of the room, placed two comfortable chairs next to it, and began arranging gold and silver pieces.

Jon’s smile was everything Gregory could have hoped for.

 

High Castle The Queen’s Drawing Room

Melyssa tried to still her nerves but could not. This was almost worse than meeting Sagen for the first time. She’d been extensively prepared for that.

How do I…? I’d thought him a childish fantasy. Yes, I kept the buttons, but… but… I never thought I’d…

Lady Ush-Wha smiled wickedly at her, “You have the most delicious taste in men, your Majesty. While I still want your brother as my husband, I could enjoy frolicking with this beautiful man you’ve found. After all,” she leered wickedly, “you can’t take advantage of him.”

“I’d tell you that’s inappropriate north of the Shining Mountains,” Melyssa teased back, grateful for the distraction, “but I’m told it’s inappropriate south of them too.”

“Hmmm, that just means I’ll have to drag him into those mountains.”

“Colonel Steven Blackhawk,” a herald announced, cutting off their conversation.

The colonel was resplendent in his uniform. So much so that Melyssa heard at least one of her ladies-in-waiting sigh.

What do I say?

A name floated into her consciousness, from childish dreams, “Did I call you Sir Hawk?”

He blinked.

Another lady-in-waiting sighed.

“Your Majesty,” he paused, perhaps gathering courage, “is it wise to speak of such things in front of…?”

“Have no fear,” Melyssa felt her playful persona return, “my Sir Hawk. These ladies will protect this secret, and any others that I choose to share with them, unto death. They are more,” she covered her mouth and coughed, “capable than you might suspect.”

“I meant no disrespect, your Majesty.”

“And none was taken.” Catching the look that Lady Ush-Wha gave the colonel, she continued, “However, if you would be willing to risk your dignity one day, in private of course, I would be fascinated to see you spar… with Lady Ush-Wha.”

“Perhaps, your Majesty, although I’d be concerned about hurting her.”

“Be worried about getting hurt, pretty boy,” Ush-Wha purred.

Not now,” Melyssa glared at the dark-skinned lady-in-waiting, then refocused on her guest. “My apologies, Sir Hawk. Lady Ush-Wha is known to be somewhat… uh… predatory, in all aspects of her personality. She is also, although you may not believe this, trying to be supportive of me. I have… questions. Please, take a seat.” She pointed to a waiting chair.

“Sit,” she repeated when he hesitated.

Is he as nervous as I am?

“Thank you, your Majesty.”

Ush-Wha leaned forward, eyeing Blackhawk openly.

Melyssa raised a finger before the other woman could speak, “Don’t.”

The queen turned back to Blackhawk, who was returning Ush-Wha’s blatant stare. “Please don’t do that. She’ll think you’re courting her. I’ve promised her and the others to find them suitable husbands at the appropriate time and, during the two days’ delay before being able to continue our conversation, you have been a topic of… great interest.”

Blackhawk immediately averted his eyes and swallowed.

“I really shouldn’t tease you,” Melyssa continued, “but I have to stay in practice. My flippant, frivolous ways are one of my best defenses. Now, my questions. Can you tell me anything of the family I was from? The stories I’ve heard are somewhat… fanciful.”

Blackhawk looked down at the carpeted stone floor. Then he took a long slow breath. “Your grandparents are dead. Despite what I told the woman who… agreed to take care of you… at least one of your parents isn’t. Or, wasn’t on the day you were… taken.”

“How do you know that?”

“I said your parents were dead because I was afraid. You were caught up in a debt collection. I was afraid your new mother wouldn’t take you if she thought you had family looking for you. Your real mother escaped. She was never caught. Later, that… transaction… was proclaimed illegal by King Edal. As to your father, I don’t know his fate. I never even knew his name.”

Melyssa forced herself to breathe calmly.

My mother might be alive.

“Sir Hawk, before we continue, there is something you must irrevocably accept. As far as everyone is concerned, I was Melyssa Locke before I married. That must never be questioned. So, although I thank you from the bottom of my soul for whatyou’ve just conveyed – and saving me – you must never breathe of this to anyone. Ever. Not even to His Majesty.”

“Are you saying the king…” his words were cut off by the thud of a crossbow bolt impacting beside his ear.

All conversation ceased for a few seconds.

After looking closely at the quarrel that had missed his head by an inch, Blackhawk returned his gaze to the queen. “Forgive me, your Majesty. It seems I may be less than well. I know we were speaking about something. Yet it’s completely slipped my mind. Where were we?”

“I was about to tell you a fantastic story that went through my head as a child. I imagined that I had another name and another life. Can you believe that? I daydreamed my name was Sarah O'Toole. Isn’t that extraordinary? Is it a common name? Can you think of how I might have come across it? Could you find some O'Tooles?”

“Your Majesty, until the day I die, I shall be your trusted knight,” he promised. “If you wish me to investigate O’Tooles, Danfords or Cowens, I’ll do so. I have no idea what we might find. But, if it amuses your Majesty, it will be my pleasure to assist you.”

Melyssa breathed a sigh of relief, that was echoed by three more lustful ones, as the colonel left. For one horrific moment, she’d thought he’d complete that sentence – does the king know the truth? – and Ush-Wha would have shot him dead.

My mother might be alive. But what of my father?

 

Alexandria – Beck’s Bold Businesses

Major Patrick Gunnels dismounted and handed his horse’s reins to the waiting servant. Making an appointment to see Tomas Beck felt odd. But his ‘old family friend’ had become ever more elusive as his fortune had grown. Disappearing here. Reappearing there. Somehow without ever having left one place or visibly traveled to the other.

It was mysterious. It was also a damned good trick. One that he had orders to get to the bottom of. Mr. Beck had come to the attention of the King’s Information Gatherer. Who that was, Patrick did not want to know.

It was safer not to.

Yet if you worked closely with His Majesty, you’d heard tales about some mastermind who knew every secret, could see behind every door, and knew who was up to no good. Or so the rumors went. There was even a game amongst some senior officers to identify that genius.

A game only fools played.

Patrick took a deep breath as he looked up. The sign read: Beck’s Bold Businesses. The image below it was a highly recognizable depiction of Tomas’s face.

A pair of large double doors opened but, before he could enter, a too-well-dressed dandy in a long leather duster, wearing a silken cravat and a pair of well-used daggers strode past him. The description fit an obnoxious fellow that Patrick had also been instructed to investigate, Tyrone Beecham, arms trader and all-round ne’er-do-well.

‘Where’s the hundn gone?” The dandy demanded. “Beck promised me wagons, horses and guards. All ready to go at sun-up. Wh’ad-I-get? Drek all. Wagons that’d break under half the load I specified, horses too old to pull, and guards less lively than rotting corpses! Out of my way! I know the way up!”

Clerks scattered as the vile, cursing man stormed through them. The volume of his tirade decreasing as he disappeared into the building’s interior.

Patrick put on his best officer-in-charge expression then strolled inside. “I have a meeting with Tomas Beck. Would someone show me the way?”

A clerk stepped forwards, “Major, unless you’re of a mind to fight the… uh… valuable… customer… you just saw enter, I’d suggest you wait a few minutes. Happily, Mr. Beecham tends to be merely loud and colorful in his language. If he is allowed to vent. Interrupting that… well… I shouldn’t and won’t speak ill of a client who brings us so much business. Sadly, much angst appears whenever he does.”

Shaking his head, Patrick smiled congenially. Once he was done with Tomas, it should be no trouble at all to follow someone who left such disgust behind him. This was shaping up to be a good day.

The delay was even shorter than anticipated. Without warning, a clerk announced. “Mr. Beecham left via the rear entrance… thankfully. Mr. Beck has instructed me to show you up.”

Patrick followed where the clerk led. Their destination was an office three times the size of Commander Taylor’s in High Castle. It was also far more expensively furnished.

Tomas was standing just inside the doorway, his hand extended in greeting. “It’s been too long. Come in. Come in.” His attention turned to the clerk. “No distractions until I’m done. Not even the all-too-exciting Mr. Beecham. Clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Bywold Parsons nodded with a smile.

“Have a seat, Patrick. I trust my manager looked after you. Excellent fellow. Couldn’t manage without him.”

Major Gunnels laughed.

Tomas grabbed a bottle and two glasses and poured something long and cold, handing one over. “So, what brings you into the south? And why make an appointment? You know you’re always welcome.”

“Actually,” Patrick took a sip, enjoying the fine liquor. “I’ve tried. You’re surprisingly hard to catch up with. A fact that has brought you to the attention of some people who…”

“Yes…?”

“Tomas, the King’s Information Gatherer wants to know about Licht Gegen.”

“I’ve heard of them. You hear all sorts of things in business.”

Patrick sighed. “I know you were a part of Licht Gegen. We were both there the night it was founded. I have been commanded by King Sagen to find its leader. Every clue I turn up points to you.”

“Oh…” Tomas blinked, then placed his glass on the table.

“Oh… what?”

“Oh well… if I was its leader, I’d hardly admit it. Not even to an old friend like you, who comes in the king’s name.”

“Tomas!”

“What I can do,” Beck grinned, “is act as a conduit to their leader. I do a lot of business with a lot of people, some of them less than… law abiding. What message do you want me to pass on?”

“I want to meet their leader.”

“Then, Patrick, I strongly expect you’re going to be disappointed. It’s not that I won’t arrange it, I can’t. The leadership went underground years ago. I wouldn’t know where to begin. And, for my own health’s sake, I shan’t do so. But I can relay messages.”

Patrick consumed the rest of his drink, barely tasting it. This was not the answer he’d been seeking. Still, it was progress… of a sort.

“I’ll give you a unique order code. Place an order, with special instructions, through any Beck’s Bold Businesses office and it’ll get to me. I can’t guarantee how fast. I travel a lot.”

“I suppose it’s better than nothing. One more question: what can you tell me about Tyrone Beecham?”

 

High Castle Outside the Queen’s Drawing Room

Blackhawk strode steadily away. He had no idea how it had come to pass.

Little Soldier is the queen.

He’d thought it possible two days earlier in the gardens. It had now been confirmed. Not that he was ever going to investigate how it came about, nor mention it to anyone. The lady-in-waiting’s warning had been as clear as it was swift. He had no doubt that, had she intended to kill him, he’d be dead.

It was a sobering thought. Of all the times that he had feared for his life with Geleib, even more so with Cailleagh, he’d never come as close to death as he’d just been.

Sarah… O’Toole…

Surely, it can’t be.

Is that blasted knight Little Soldier’s father?

 

Alexandria

Jonathan had remained as the duke’s guest for several weeks.

Gregory of Alexandria was a conundrum. He was an excellent host, an intelligent man, a loving husband, and a proud father. He was also a devout non-believer… in anything. Well, anything that the knight recognized as a religion or a philosophy.

Perhaps more puzzlingly, the Duke of Alexandria had been willing to exchange information. He recognized that the Duke of Lorness posed both direct and indirect threats to the kingdom. That simply killing Geleib or, may the God of Truth forbid it, beginning a civil war would only wreak havoc. Thus, Gregory was exploring other methods to resolve the problem.

He was also willing to form alliances. An opportunity that could not be ignored. Yet, not one that the knight felt ready or able to take advantage of.

Jon only left Alexandria when he heard the spirit, Gather the knights. His first stop was William Miles.

 

The Lion & Tiger Inn

Jonathan and Will sat before the fire alone. The last of the patrons had left for the night or were asleep in their rooms. “We need to gather the knights. We’ll meet at Dunis Glen the evening of the crescent moon of the Fishes.”

Will’s countenance sank as he stared at the table. “Is that wise, Jon? What about David? Will his actions taint your reputation? Perhaps…”

“I’ve already seen David. He is willing to stand before the knights, explain his actions, and accept their judgement.”

The silence stretched out.

“But… to bring your son before the knights at the site of his betrayal?”

Jonathan’s brows drew together. “It is a brash move. But, if the Fellowship is to live again, our reconciliation must be complete. I see no other way. We cannot afford lingering bitterness. Not if we are to be effective and free our land from Melazera’s grip.”

“I’m not sure you’re right, but I’ll go with you to gather the knights.

The two gazed at each other in stillness, the years chiseled into their faces.

Jonathan felt the affection and bond that shone from his friend’s eyes. There was a long pause before William spoke again. “We’ve both given up so much, sacrificed, lost friends and loved ones. I know how you must hurt, my friend.”

Tears filled both their eyes, for the simple truth had struck a common chord. Jonathan had a price on his head. William had lost a son at Dunis Glen and was also a wanted man, living under the alias Daryl Andrews. The times had not allowed them to grow old, peacefully rocking grandchildren on their knees.

Jon nodded. “How is Elanor? Is she here?”

“No, she’s at her father’s. Her sister is expecting a babe any day,” William replied as his daughter came in from the kitchen. “Here’s my girl with food.”

The tall young lady with long braids and delicate ebony features brought out a plate full of glistening morsels that smelled rich and spicy. As she gracefully placed the plate and utensils in front of the Knight, she said, “This should warm you up.”

“Charmaine, you’ve become quite a lady.” Jon smiled, remembering the tomboy he saw wielding a sword proficiently only a few years ago. She wore a figure flattering dress.

“Thank you, sir,” she acknowledged, then smiled and curtsied, before dashing off to the kitchen.

“She’s a woman now, Will. Any suitors?”

“She’s already married,” Will replied. “Found a knight in the wilds and brought him home.”

“How…?”

“That’s her story to tell. I’ve come to like him. Did you know knights are being trained in the forests?”

Jonathan blinked. “By any chance, is their leader James of the Wood?”

“I’ve heard the name,” Will grinned. “Every local girl has her eyes on him.”

Jon laughed then dove into his food.

“Have you had any contact with Jean LaVoie or Harold Grammott?” William asked.

“Not since our last mission together in 144, north of Dunis Glen. Someone there will know how to reach them and, perhaps, the other northern knights.”

“I think we should seek them out first,” Will mused.

“A good plan,” Jon nodded.

“I’ll ask Elanor’s brother to watch the Inn and the girls.”

In the morning, Jon and Will left for the Sea of Glass, then on to Dunis Glen.

A fair wind blew through the leaves. The sun shone brightly upon the moist earth. Birds sang and flew about in merriment, unaware of a storm just beyond the horizon.

 

Wynifred’s, Alexandria’s Most Humble Inn.

Rebekah-as-Tomas tossed her satchel on the bed and sighed, looking down at the thick handful of messages she’d collected from the smiling manager. As she thumbed through them, she noticed one from Richard Overhill. Stuffing the rest into her satchel, she headed out to meet him.

It took only a few minutes to find the tavern he’d mentioned. He was seated at a table in the rear. A lad brought him two ales then sat with him.

“Mister Beck!” Overhill called out when he saw her. “Sit, sit.”

“How are you, Richard?” Rebekah shook his hand, then glanced at his companion, who looked like a younger version of the knight.

“I’m hale and hearty. You look so too.”

“How’s your wife… Elizabeth? And the children?”

“Well, very well.”

“Who’s the strapping likeness of yourself?”

“Lucas, my nephew. He’s why I asked to meet. He wants to become a knight, but his mother… and I… fear it too visible. The army thinks he’s dead. We need to keep it that way. Actually,” he paused, lowering his voice, “it’s due to an encounter with Jonathan O’Toole, whom you know of.”

“I see.” Rebekah nodded, sizing up the boy. “I have an opening. What are your qualifications, lad?”

Lucas leaned forward. “I was conscripted into the army. I couldn’t escape, so made the best of my situation. I became a corporal. I’ve mastered all the skills required for that rank and would put them to better use. I’ll learn anything to serve Joshua.”

She looked to Richard. “His mother approves?”

“Yes,” Richard nodded. “She can’t tie him down forever. He’d best go with you.”

“She knows of me?”

Licht Gegen is no longer a secret. Rumors are everywhere. Our messages are obvious to a woman like my sister. Lyndsey is very intuitive… and reserved. Your secret is safe.”

Turning to lad, Rebekah asked. “Are you ready now, or shall I come back for you later?”

Lucas brightened. “Now, sir.”

She shook Richard’s hand. “I can’t promise he’ll be safe.”

“No one can promise that. I feel it’s the Lord’s will.”

The drank and talked for a while, as Rebekah scanned the tavern for potential enemies.

When she and Lucas left, she asked more about his experiences in the army. Ending with, “So, tell me of this Jonathan O’Toole…”

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