The Flames of Time (Flames of Time Series Book 1) (38 page)

I clambered out of the ruined vehicle, and instinctively dragged myself away, looking back to see the headlights casting their beams askew into the night sky, as the engine roared then wheezed to a stop as it haemorrhaged oil and fuel onto the suddenly glass-littered ground.

I’ve got no idea how I wasn’t seriously hurt, but as I gathered my senses, it was Jean who was leaning over me checking I was alright. I was dazed and confused, but as I scrambled around trying to help the others it became clear I’d had a lucky escape. Marlow and Jean were largely unhurt, barring a few scratches. However Androus was clearly in pain as he breathed and couldn’t put any weight on one leg, Peter was better off, but seemed to be having trouble moving his left arm. It was Harry though who was causing the most concern. One of the others had pulled him out from behind the wheel, but he was still unconscious, just lying very still beside the car, a nasty gash along his forehead and temple.

I don’t remember the trucks arriving, or the throng of people that came out of them, as they surrounded us with guns in their hands. But my attention snapped back with a jolt when I saw Marlow unclip the flap of the holster on his belt.

Suddenly there was tension in the air. I hadn’t heard what was said. But I saw that two of the male servants that travelled with these young women, had taken a few steps toward the wreck of our car, and Marlow who was stood in their way, had stopped them in their tracks by putting his hand on his pistol.

While there were several of those strangely self-possessed young women surrounding us, along with their servants, it was clear that one of them was somehow in charge, and she spoke again now, the air of authority flowing from every fibre of her being.

‘Mr Marlow you will stand aside,’ she began, completely dispassionately. ‘So that we may remove the box of artefacts from your car, or I will order my people to kill you where you stand.’

I could see my friends respond to this. We knew these people could be deadly, but to have the fact so casually disclosed, and to our faces! I had no doubt she was telling us the truth, and palpably felt the shock travel through me.

But even as I registered that shock, and saw it travel through my friends. I saw it break upon Marlow like a wave upon a cliff face. Not a single atom of his being seemed moved by the force of her words. And it was in that moment I realised a greater truth. I couldn’t see his eyes and the gaze he levelled at the speaker, and for that I was thankful, because now I saw in the line of his body something I’d never noticed before.

The dreadful calm or stillness I’d seen so often in his gaze… wasn’t confined to his eyes. I understood it now. As he stood there perhaps more motionless than he’d ever allowed himself to be before. That fathomless well of stillness, up until now so well concealed, possessed every fibre of his body. It was less visible when he moved, the idea of stillness within movement just too alien for our minds to conceive, making us see it as grace or balance. It was more noticeable possibly in those moments of natural repose or quiet, when he watched the sunset, or stopped to gaze across to the far horizon. But now, confronted by this strange group, when the pretence was stripped away, the stillness possessed and consumed him.

On some level I knew nothing could stir that calm now, not even the guns raised against us, and I remembered that second dream-vision we’d all had when we’d tried to re-create our experience at the Singing Stones. How in my dream I’d seen Marlow step straight into the heart of that raging inferno, a fire that burned with such heat and light I could hardly bare to look upon it. What impurities that crucible must have removed I cannot imagine, but it was clear to me now that only something purer remained.

I don’t think he even bothered to respond. In that moment he seemed to exist outside time, as immobile and immovable as the earth. But it was his antagonist I was becoming more interested in now, and as I watched I think she too caught a glimpse of what I had just understood. I don’t think anyone could’ve described exactly how that young lady changed. But to me it seemed the shining and flawless confidence within her began to crack and crumble, as doubt took hold, and then overwhelmed her, to leave only the hollow-eyed façade of command.

The tension in the air gradually evaporated. Nothing was going to happen, and everyone knew it. They’d lost their will, and without it, even with their numbers they were powerless to act.

If our car had been salvageable I think we could’ve driven away without them even trying to stop us. But our car was finished, and there was nowhere we could even try and walk to, not with Harry still unconscious.

Our car was leaking fuel and oil all over the place, so once the tension had been dispelled, we moved the injured and a few of our things a little further away. Harry still couldn’t be roused, and the gash along his head now seemed compounded by some nasty bruising and swelling. I couldn’t see what we could do. The lodge was probably the closest point, and that was at least several hours walk. As for the track, we couldn’t rely on anyone coming this way even in the daylight.

There was a sudden flicker and whoosh of air as the fuel and car suddenly caught alight. It was a desperate scene without doubt, now illuminated in the infernal light from our car as it began to burn.

But the light from the fire did more than destroy some of our things, it also distracted us from the arrival of two more cars, which we didn’t notice until they pulled in behind the trucks. The young woman who had so casually threatened us was the first to move over to the new arrivals, presumably eager to explain the situation. And then I recognised them, it was Selene, Miriam and Thea, again with Luke in tow, and a slightly older woman, who I presume must have been the figure that Peter and Marlow had observed.

To say that this strange collection of young women were all cut from the same cloth, would in many ways be to do their individual beauty and charm a considerable disservice. But as these new arrivals stepped forth into the firelight to confront us, it felt more like we were facing an army unit than a group of individuals.

There was an obvious deference to the older woman, as she stepped forward into the light and toward us. She was tall and slender, with shoulder length pale hair perfectly framing the high cheekbones and elegant features of a still beautiful face.

‘Mr Robert Marlow, M’sier Jean de Gris, Dr Androushan Chukjadarian, Mr George Whitaker, Mr Peter McAndrews, and your unfortunate friend Dr Harrison Sutherland,’ she said, naming each of us as she looked at us. ‘You have lead us upon a merry dance, as you English would put it, demanding far more of our attention and time than anyone in quite some while.

‘But your journey is now over gentlemen, and I must insist that you persevere in your little… hobby no more.’

‘Madame, you seem to have us at a disadvantage,’ replied Jean, with a soft charm in his voice and steel in his eyes.

‘My name M’sier de Gris is of no consequence,’ she replied with perfect equanimity. ‘All that is of importance, is the care of your injured companion and the relinquishment of those artefacts that you have worked so hard to recover.’

She’d assessed the situation perfectly. She knew she neither needed to demand nor threaten, she had us exactly where she wanted us.

I didn’t dare look at Marlow as she said this, instead diverting my attention to poor Harry, as he lay on the ground with Peter attempted to do his best for him.

But it was Marlow that spoke next, and with a depth of feeling that surprised me, and caused me to turn back toward him.

‘Do you even know what these things represent,’ he asked, stepping toward her almost menacingly. ‘Do you care that these artefacts could rewrite history as we know it, or that they may contain a knowledge that could transform our world… our very existence or nature as human beings.’

‘Do I know what these things represent,’ she responded with equal force. ‘How arrogant you are! I think perhaps I have a better understanding than you do yourself Mr Marlow. Mine after all, is not the interest of an idle sportsman like yourself, grown bored of his privilege and leisure. Mine is a life of devotion. A life Mr Marlow, not a season or whim. So yes, I do understand what these artefacts represent. For you they represent the life of your friend and your ability to get him to a hospital before it is too late. For me they represent chaos and turmoil, knowledge that it is not our lot to possess.’

‘We are all acutely aware of the hold you have over us madam, or would you prefer Mother?’ chipped in Jean, ‘We are also acutely aware of the ruthlessness that your… Order, has displayed in opposing us, so you need not remind us again. As for forbidden knowledge. You will I trust forgive me if I prefer not to live under the delusion of such… primitive notions.’

I couldn’t tell whether Jean had been genuinely irritated by something this woman had said, or whether he was just trying to provoke her for reasons of his own, but whatever the motivation, it had an effect, as I saw her posture stiffen in response to his words, and the elegant lines of her face harden into something altogether less beautiful.

‘So you have somehow come to know something of our order, it appears you are more perceptive than we have been careful,’ she said looking pointedly at Selene, Thea and Miriam. ‘No matter, such information has availed you little. As for the… primitive notion, that some knowledge is and should remain beyond the grasp of mankind. I do not expect you to understand such things, let alone to comprehend that there could even be a spiritual consequence to your actions. For myself and… the Order which I serve, I am content to safeguard such knowledge and to let others with greater wisdom than myself decide its fate.’

‘Is it really possible that you can so abdicate your responsibility?’ asked Marlow with sadness in his voice. ‘You are right, I do not fully comprehend what such knowledge may mean, either for the wider world or myself. But if I cannot see with a perfect clarity, then I can at least catch glimpses of what may be, the good and the bad, the choices that may need to be made and the decisions that may follow. And yes, I may not have the faith or devotion that you can perhaps lay claim to, but I do know that at the heart of mankind, and perhaps at the root of your own faith, the freedom of choice is paramount.

‘Take these things if you must?’ he said, gesturing to the box containing the tablets, scroll and all of Androus’s work. ‘and hide it away in some dark place for your masters to ignore or eventually to decide upon, and may you live to see the world grow and decide for itself, despite your prohibitions and prejudices.’

And with that he turned his back on her and walked over to where Harry was lying, still unconscious and unmoving.

I thought she might be about to say something else, but after a moment’s hesitation, she indicated to Selene and Thea to retrieve the box, and then instructed some of the men who attended upon her to bring forward one of the smaller cars for us to use.

I joined Marlow and the others over beside Harry, who wasn’t looking well. I could only speculate upon why he wasn’t waking up, but at the least I expected him to have a severe concussion.

Neither Selene nor Thea said a word as they came over to retrieve the box, but for a moment I thought I saw a genuine look of concern on Selene’s face.

I don’t think any of us wanted to watch as they took the box away, but our eyes followed it nonetheless as they took it over to the pale-haired woman, who opened it and examined the contents, before turning back to us with a satisfied smile on her face.

‘A considerable amount of work. You should be complemented on your industry,’ she said, before turning and addressing herself to Selene.

‘Burn the scroll and the papers, take the tablets back with us.’

It hit me like a hammer blow between the eyes. I couldn’t tell whether she was just doing this to torment us, or for some other reason known only to herself. But the idea of such wilful destruction stunned me.

I saw Marlow and Jean start to move toward her, only to be stopped as thirty guns suddenly raised and pointed toward them.

‘There is no need to destroy anything,’ Marlow said through gritted teeth, ‘you’ve won your prize, why not just take it and hide it away.’

‘Unfortunately, you’ve proven to be just that little bit too resourceful Mr Marlow,’ she said, still smiling pleasantly, ‘With a car and your experience in this land, who knows what contacts and connections you might be able to exploit? Better to teach you your lesson now I think. The scroll and the papers will be destroyed. Should you in any way attempt to interfere with us again, before we leave this country, I will personally empty my revolver into the contents of that box to reduce these tablets to dust. Do I make myself abundantly clear?’

As much as I hated to admit it, her reasoning was beyond doubt, and if anything I’d have been more surprised if Jean or Marlow hadn’t already been thinking along exactly those lines.

It was agonising to watch as Selene and Thea carried the box over to the burning wreck that had been our car, and start to throw Androus’s papers and plans into the fire. I was waiting, hoping that they would somehow choose to spare the scroll, but eventually I saw Selene draw it too out of the box, and for a moment hesitate, before with a small tremor in those pale hands remove the scroll from its case.

‘Ms Autieri… Selene, please do not do this,’ implored Jean.

‘M’sier de Gris,’ broke in the pale-haired woman, ‘I have warned you about the cost of any further interference.

‘Now do as you were told my child,’ she said addressing Selene.

‘Yes Mother Agostine,’ she replied.

We then all watched as Selene, holding the scroll, stepped a little closer to the flames and then threw it still furled deep into the fire.

Marlow tried to take another step, but was held back by Jean who’d taken a firm grasp of his arm.

We all watched as the papyrus caught light and began to burn brightly. For a moment or two I thought we might have been able to retrieve some portion of it, if our captors had left quickly enough. But Mother Agostine was not to be so easily fooled, and we were forced to stand and watch until the entirety of the papyrus had turned to ash.