In Brightest Day, In Darkest Night...
A Gabriel Knight Mystery
Chapter 3
"I to my perils
Of cheat and charmer
Came clad in armour
By stars benign.
Hope lies to mortals
And most believe her
But man's deceiver
Was never mine."
-- A.E.Housman
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Fear was his world. Fear and the darkness that pressed down on him like a shroud. Huddled into a fetal position, the frightful slithering noises around him sent him into an unceasing paroxysm of terror. Death would be preferable to this...
Light! So bright that he had to shield his eyes against the awful radiance. Through squinting, dazzled eyes he saw the silhouette of a man. A man who bore the essence of light itself in his hands. Bright as the sun at mid-day it shone; too bright for the eyes of mortal men. It seemed to grow, a blazing glory of white flame, till he saw nothing but the source of the light itself: a shining blade that dwarfed the whole world.
"Only two things redeem you!" thundered the voice of the Dragon.
"Keep your trust, Sir Knight," begged a tired voice.
"Burn!" hissed his nemesis, and fire engulfed him...
Gabriel sat bolt upright in bed, clutching the talisman at his neck convulsively.
"Shit! I hate these dreams!" He lay back tiredly, heart still pounding frantically. Slowly, calm returned. The morning sun streamed through the window and over his chest, striking brilliant highlights off the gems in his talisman. "Might as well get up, I guess."
Walking out into the passage, he was looking hopefully forward to an infusion of caffeine when Michael's door opened ahead of him. He stopped dead in his tracks, all thoughts of coffee vanishing from his brain as Grace stepped out. In her robe.
She paused for a second as she saw him. Then catching his expression, she continued down to her room. "Good Morning!" she said brightly. "See you at breakfast?" She passed him with a nonchalant wave.
Gabriel remained rooted to the spot, quite literally unable to move. His first instinct was to chase after her and demand what the h*ll she thought she was doing. His second was to go and smash Michael's face in. Then sanity returning, a moment's thought told him what Grace's reaction to either move would be. He forced himself to walk on downstairs, toward the kitchen.
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*Thursday, 19 June*
A half hour later, he was sitting in Michael's car again, feeling moderately pleased with himself. He had managed to restrain himself from asking any questions. Grace had given him a couple of strange looks, but Michael seemed not to notice anything unusual. There's gotta be some reasonable explanation, he reassured himself. Gracie wouldn't... Unfortunately, he couldn't quite convince himself of that. It had taken a determined effort to agree casually when Michael suggested a trip to see the Chateau de Gisors.
"The Chateau was where the Templars were imprisoned by Philip's men?", Grace asked.
"Yes, many of them were held in the dungeons," Michael agreed. "There's an interesting maze leading to the entrance of the castle. And the view from the tower is fantastic."
The car pulled into a parking lot just outside the Chateau. Michael stopped to speak to the guard on duty outside, and the three of them were allowed in. This early in the morning, there were no tourists around.
Michael led them unhesitatingly through the maze of tall hedges in front of the door. A short, white-haired man met them in the entrance hall. Michael introduced him as Martin, the guide and caretaker.
They wandered around, seeing the Great Hall, the Chapel, all high roofed and Gothic, stained glass windows letting in multi-coloured rays of light.
"I'll go and see if Martin will let us into the tower," Michael said.
Gabriel and Grace, left alone, looked idly around. "I wonder what's down there," Grace said, pointing down the hall to an open doorway.
"Let's take a look," Gabriel responded.
They walked down a flight of stairs into a subterranean complex of rooms. Though it was brightly lit with modern electric lights everywhere, there was a palpable air of closeness. This could only be the dungeon. Gabriel looked around curiously, wondering why the place looked familiar. As they walked on, Grace suddenly turned pale and stumbled to a halt, grabbing Gabriel's arm for support.
"Gracie! Are you OK?" He found himself holding her up, as she slumped against him, her eyes wide with shock.
"Get me out of here!" she whispered, hands digging into his arms.
Worried now, he half-supported, half-carried her out into the courtyard, swearing under his breath. Back in the sunshine, she still looked very shaken.
"What happened?" Michael asked, looking anxious.
Gabriel kept an arm around Grace as he answered. "I don't know! We went down to the dungeon, and she..."
"I'm OK," Grace said. "I had this sudden vision or something..." She shuddered.
"I'm sorry," Michael said contritely. "I should have warned you. Those dungeons can be unsettling to anyone who's psychically sensitive. Did you feel anything, Gabriel?"
"No, just thought the place looked familiar, somehow..."
Michael shot him a curious look, and seemed on the verge of making a comment. He changed his mind, however, and suggested that they leave. Grace agreed with relieved enthusiasm.
A short while later, the three of them were seated at a local cafe. Gabriel was frowning heavily. He was beginning to feel very frustrated, for some reason. It was as though something he should know was hovering elusively just beyond his reach.
"Dammit!" he growled, slamming a fist on the table, and startling the waiter who was clearing away their empty cups. The poor man stepped back, wondering if it was anything he had done.
Michael spoke reassuringly to him, shooting a wickedly humourous look at Gabriel. "Sont fous, ces touristes," he ended, tapping his head suggestively. Grace was trying hard not to laugh.
"Hey! What did you just tell the guy?" Gabriel asked indignantly. He turned defensively to the waiter. "Listen, whatever he said, it's all lies, OK?" The waiter stared back uncomprehendingly. "Uh, il..est un tres, tres, gros, uh...canard?" he tried, pointing at Michael.
The waiter nodded nervously and sidled away hurriedly. Gabriel turned back to Grace and Michael, puzzled, to find them helpless with laughter. "What did I say?" he enquired, bewildered.
Michael managed to recover sufficiently to explain, "You just told him I was a very, very, fat duck!" He collapsed again. Grace was laughing so hard there were tears in her eyes.
Gabriel looked indignant for a moment, and then the memory of the poor waiter's face came back to him. He cracked a smile. "OK, OK, so my faculty for languages leaves a little to be desired..." At least Gracie was looking happier...
When the other two had sobered down, he leaned forward. "I think we need to check into these murders more directly. Like, the scene of the crime, that sort of thing."
"I was going to suggest we visit the scene tomorrow."
"How convenient," Gabriel said dryly. "And what are we going to do for the rest of today?"
"Right now, we need to return home. Remember I said I had some things to show you? I think it's time."
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Back at the St.Clair house, Michael led the way to the back of the manor. This part of the building was clearly very old, with stone walls and high windows. Gabriel looked around as they entered a large room with an arched Gothic roof.
"It's a chapel!" Grace exclaimed, her fascinated eyes travelling from the simple altar to the tall stained glass windows that slanted coloured light onto the floor.
A carved stone altar stood before the plain wooden cross at the end of the room. Gabriel moved to look at it, noticing barely legible inscriptions on the worn surface.
"Invicto," he read out, the only word still distinguishable beneath the cross that stood out in relief against the stone surface.
He turned to examine the scenes depicted in the stained glass around the room. He quickly recognised the sources for two of the sketches that Michael had sent him earlier: St.George slaying the Dragon with a flaming sword, and an armored Knight who wore a red Latin cross and held a gold medallion. The next window showed two Knights, standing side by side, both wearing the red cross, and both holding out golden talismans up toward the sun. A large panel depicted the same men kneeling before what looked like a stone sarcophagus. Grace came to join him before the last, a frown of concentration knitting her brow.
"That place looks familiar," she said. "Where have I seen that scene before?"
Michael moved forward to the altar. "Gabriel, would you give me a hand?" he asked, bending to grasp the side of the stone slab.
Gabriel complied, a quizzical smile lifting a corner of his mouth. His eyes widened in sudden understanding as the slab moved, sliding back on hidden rollers as the two men pulled. Steps leading into a subterranean chamber were revealed.
Michael handed Gabriel and Grace flashlights, and then paused at the top of the steps.
"Step into my parlour," he suggested, a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he noted their stunned expressions, and walked down.
The other two hastened after him, down into a high roofed underground chamber. It was circular, with a raised platform in the center. A door led out of the chamber, into a smaller room. Michael strode into the latter, his flashlight highlighting glimpses of murals on the walls. He halted in front of an enormous bas-relief carving at the end of the room. An armored Knight mounted on a horse looked on as a rampant lion trod on the body of an enormous dragon. On either side of the scene were two circular stone carvings. One was a replica of the Ritter talisman: the Key of St.George. The other showed the same symbols as Michael's medallion: a six-pointed star surrounding a sword.
Gabriel reached out to touch the time-worn carvings, wondering how long ago they had been set in stone here. Then he noticed the niches below the carvings. Just the right size for his Talisman. And Michael's.
He turned to raise an enquiring eyebrow at Michael. "So, is this where the big Secret is?"
Michael returned the look with a sardonic one of his own. "What do you think?"
"No, I guess not. Too easy, huh? So what is in here?"
"In there? What are you guys talking about?" Grace asked, exasperated.
Gabriel grinned at her, and gestured at the carving. "It's a door, Gracie. And it can only be opened by putting my Talisman, and his, in those slots over there. Right?" he said, turning to Michael.
"Quite."
Grace frowned. "Just what is it that's behind that stone panel? Not the Secret of St.George that you keep talking about?"
"No, Grace. But there's something there that we'll need. Gabriel? Shall we?"
Michael placed the heavy gold Seal he wore in the right hand slot and watched Gabriel do the same with his Talisman at the other side. With a heavy grinding sound, the panel slid aside, revealing a deep shelf in the rock. Michael reached in to retrieve a carved wooden box from the recess. He placed it on the floor outside, and the others knelt to join him. He gently swung the hinged lid back, to see a carefully tied scroll and a manuscript of some kind. Grace reached in eagerly, carefully removing both objects with an expression of incredulous awe.
"Are they ...?" she asked, clearly hoping for confirmation.
"Original manuscripts, yes," Michael affirmed. "They have been in here since the 12th century. I've only seen copies, in my family library." He carefully unrolled the scroll, to expose a coloured illustration, with words marked on it.
"A map." Gabriel stared at the writing on it. "Latin, isn't it?"
"It was the language of educated men at the time," Michael agreed.
"And the manuscript?"
Michael turned it so that the beautifully calligraphed cover sheet was revealed. " 'Acta Sancti Georgii': The Acts of Saint George. It is a chronicle handed down in my family from one generation to the next, based on the journal of George's own son."
A short while later, they were sitting in Michael's library. The ancient manuscript was spread out in front of Grace, who looked as though she had found the Holy Grail. "Wow! An original 12th century Latin document! I'll have this translated in a couple of hours for you, Gabriel," she said, settling down at the massive teak desk in the library. He walked out after a couple of minutes, deciding he wouldn't be of any help here whatsoever. Michael went out, "to make arrangements" for the next day.
Gabriel wandered into the living room. "Well, hello," Father Jean said, looking up from the book he was reading. "You look troubled, Gabriel. Is there anything I can do?"
Gabriel hesitated, then sat down. "I'm not sure," he said.
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"...anyway, the book's doing pretty well, so that's something," Gabriel explained. He had been talking for a long time.
"I sense you are troubled about your role in the affair," Father Jean said gently. "Do you feel guilt about destroying Von Glower?"
Gabriel turned his eyes away, staring at the wall. "I wonder sometimes... Did he really have any more of a choice than I did? He didn't ask to be born a werewolf. At least I had a chance to redeem myself..."
"There are always choices, Gabriel. You may not see that, but it is so. Von Glower made his choice, as you did. At the very least, he might have refrained from using his powers to do harm. Instead, he embraced the evil path, willingly subordinating himself to his curse. And worst of all, he sought to drag others into the darkness with him. Ludwig, Von Zell, you... who knows how many more? No, he chose his own doom."
"I didn't think of it that way before. Still, look at me! I just got tossed into being Schattenjager. When I started out, it was for myself, to save my life, and then Wolfgang died... After that, I couldn't turn my back on it. I owed him..."
"And you resent being obligated?"
"No! No, not resent, exactly. I just wonder if I'm cut out to do this, that's all. Look at Michael. He grew up knowing what he was going to have to do. Me, I'm just a good old boy from New Orleans who got mixed up in this by accident. Hell, most of the time I don't even understand what it all means!" Gabriel exclaimed.
"It is difficult, being Schattenjager. Under any circumstances. A lifetime of training might prove inadequate to prepare a man for it." Father Jean's face was very grave. "Do not be so sure that seeing what lies ahead makes the burden any lighter. Knowledge of the future can be a fearful thing. Your grandfather knew, and sought to escape it. Yet, here you are. Full circle."
Gabriel shook his head wonderingly. "Yeah, makes you think about Fate, and all that."
"We all do the best we can. No one ever said it would be easy. But I think you know that already," he smiled.
"Yeah, that's for sure," Gabriel laughed, without humour.
A brief silence followed. Gerard studied the younger man thoughtfully.
"You have not yet accepted your destiny as Schattenjager," he said at last. "In your mind perhaps, but not in your heart."
Gabriel looked up, startled.
"And in the process you are blocking your very considerable gifts. Don't look so surprised. You have what is popularly known as the Sight -- all the Schattenjagers do. Yet you do not use it, do not even admit having it. And so your talent manifests itself only through your subconscious, in your dreams."
"I'm blocking my talent? ESP or whatever?" Gabriel said sceptically.
"Yes. I'm afraid so. Your instincts could serve you better if you would only allow them free rein."
"My instincts. Sure, I have a great record with those. I trusted Von Glower, remember? Where were my instincts then?"
"They were probably screaming warnings at you, but you chose to ignore them. A part of you was unwilling to listen."
"Von Glower said I had a streak of the Beast in me."
"We all do. We need not let it control us, however."
Gabriel nodded, his mouth twisting in memory.
"There is something else, also. Something to do with the lovely Ms. Nakimura, perhaps?" Father Jean's eyes were smiling.
"Is it that obvious?" He was embarrassed.
"I am an old man, Gabriel. I've seen a great deal of life. Michael seems very taken with her..."
"Yeah, those two sure hit it off real well."
"This worries you?"
"It's not like Gracie. She's always so careful, in control, you know?"
"You envy their growing closeness?"
"Whoa, you've got it all wrong, there's nothing between Grace and me! We're just friends!" He tried to say it with conviction.
"Your reaction seems out of proportion. Are you sure of your feelings for her?"
"Of course I'm sure. She's important to me, yeah. But there's nothing more than that."
"Why not? I find her beautiful, brilliant; she is warm, witty, and passionate about her beliefs. I sense strength in her, and great honour. It would be easy to care for her, yes?"
"You left out stubborn, sarcastic, judgemental and arrogant! Also, she's a terrible snob. It's no bed of roses, living with Gracie."
"Yet you worry about the attraction between her and Michael?"
"Guess I'm just a selfish SOB after all. I don't want to lose her, Father."
Father Jean shook his head slowly. "I think your relationship with her will remain rocky. Until you confront your true feelings for her. Ask yourself this: have you truly committed to your role as Schattenjager? Or to your so-called partnership with Grace? I doubt you will find peace until you resolve these things for yourself."
Whatever might have been said next was silenced by Grace's excited entrance.
"I've got it!" she exclaimed, waving a bunch of papers. "The translation. It's done!"
Gabriel was on his feet, relieved at the interruption. "Great! So what's the story with these murders?"
"It's amazing, Gabriel, this document, it's priceless! An original manuscript! It's a copy of an even older document from the fourth century! And it's intact! The historical significance..."
"Gracie," he broke in patiently. "Cut to the chase, please?"
"Oh. Sorry. It's just that this is a classicist's dream... Right. The Greater Ritual. There are three stages. In the first, the followers are supposed to invoke the serpent with the sacrifice of animals. A hundred animals, to be precise. It's pretty gross, entrails of chickens, blood of goats, hearts of dogs, etc. Yecchh."
"As if that wasn't bad enough," she continued, "In the next stage, they have to sacrifice a worshipper. Has to be a volunteer. At least he gets to die relatively painlessly. Which is more than I can say about the the rest of the victims."
She made a face. "In the third stage, they need human sacrifices. The descriptions are pretty graphic. These weirdos need lots of assorted body parts, apparently. They perform these disgusting rituals with them, and then they burn the extracted parts. The procedure is slightly different for each victim, but they always remove the heart and the eyes of every one, except for the last one. The final sacrifice is supposed to 'bleed his life out'. There are six sacrifices in all, and the last one brings the Serpent physically into our world." She stopped. "That's very bad, apparently. The Serpent becomes really difficult to stop once that happens."
"That's something of an understatement, Grace," Michael said. He had entered the room in the middle of her speech. "Nearly impossible to stop would be closer."
"Terrific," Gabriel said into the ensuing silence. "When do we get started?"
"Tomorrow. I've arranged for us to meet the Commissaire in charge of the 'Slasher' case."
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