The Solomon Chronicles (c)

(THIS IS A PORTION OF CHAPTER ONE)

Jerusalem
April 1414

A light rapping upon the door started to stir Blas out of an already fitful sleep, something that had become quite scarce these last few weeks.

Ever since word had come two weeks ago of a council to try to heal the schism and once again unite the church, the work had been nonstop. A second round of rapping successfully awoke the Master of the Order of Knights Templar.

“My lord, are you awake?” a voice from the other side of the door asked.

“What is it that is so important as to risk your head waking me with the birds?” Blas exploded in response.

Blas waited a few seconds and when no response came, he threw his legs over the side of his bed and came to a sitting position.

“Are you there?”

“Yes, my lord,” the voice said.

“Well are you going to tell me what you want?”

“Of course, my lord. There is urgent news in the form of a letter waiting for you.”

“News, you say,” Blas said. “Well, what is it?”

“I do not know my lord, I have not read it.”

Blas rose and pulled on some pants.

“Then how can you know it is urgent?”

“I do not…I mean…” the voice stammered.

“Step in,” Blas commanded.

The door handle turned and a young man of about sixteen entered the room. Blas looked the boy over, his jet-black hair was perfectly in place as was his fuzz of a mustache. Too perfect.

“What is your name, boy?” Blas asked through a yawn.

The boy stood rigid.

“Hernan, sir. Hernan de Peraza, son of Gonzolo Perez Martel and Ines Peraza,” he replied proudly.

“Uh-hu,” Blas replied as he stretched. He stretched far enough back to reach a sword hidden in the drapes. He pulled it with a quickness and placed it at the throat of the boy.

“Who are you really? I have not seen you here before,” Blas demanded.

The boy did not blink.

“I believe I already stated who I am, my lord.”

Laughing from the hallway snapped the stare between the two as Aaron, the Orders most famous knight entered the room.

He calmly stood between the two and faced Blas.

“Master Blas, it has been a while. How are things since my retirement?”

Blas said nothing. The look upon his face said it all.

“What? Do not be cross with young Hernan here. I put him up to it. You know me…”

“Yes,” Blas said cutting him off. “I do know you and I know you would not be here without a reason. So what brings you here and why the joke at this god awful hour of the morning?”

“Why you do,” Aaron said. “You sent for me, or do you not remember?

“How could I send for you when I didn’t even know where you were? Where have you been?”

“Well, I’ve taken young Hernan here under my wing. We have been training in Salamanca. He told you he was Ines’s son didn’t he?

“Yes, of course. I was just waking up…I must not have really been listening. I am sorry for the sword, boy.”

“It’s quite alright, my lord,” Hernan said respectfully. “If I did want to kill you, you wouldn’t have had the opportunity to pull it in the first place…my lord.”

“That’s enough, Hernan.” Aaron said. “This young man has great potential, if he would just learn to hold his tongue. I am sorry, Blas.”

“Not at all. He has got his mothers spirit, hasn’t he? But, no matter how happy I am now to see you, I did not send for you.”

“Well perhaps you have forgotten. The message has your seal on it. Have a look yourself.”

Aaron pulled a rolled message from his daypack.
“None the worse for wear considering the trip,” he said handing it to Blas.

Blas read the note word for word, finally running his fingers over his seal at the bottom of the page.

“Someone very close to me has deceived you and I, Aaron. I did not send for you, but believe me, whomever has used my name falsely will pay a handsome price!”

Blas, who was at least fifty years old, still boiled over easily and quickly heated up on this.

“Let us go see who is behind this,” he said pulling on a robe.

They left the room and walked to the north end of the Hall of Templars. They entered a room leading to the huge library and his personal offices.

The library was empty least one man, standing with his back to them. A priest.

Blas, with Aaron and Hernan in tow, walked up to him.

“Can I help you?” Blas asked.

“Has the knight Aaron arrived?”

Blas, startled by the response, looked back at Aaron for a second.

“Is it you who has used deception to bring Lord Aaron here?”

The priest turned to face Blas.

“Kind Master,” he said. “If you would please follow me.”

The old priest walked away from him and out of the library.

“What is going on here!” Blas fumed.

“Well, I guess we do as the father says,” Aaron said with a laugh.

They followed the old man outside. It was a bright morning and the sun was already starting to bake the ground. Down the road leading out of the city they went, passing the early risers tending to their chores, towards the Temple of Solomon.

“I would have brought my horse if I had known we were going on a journey,” Aaron said throwing his hands in the air in mock anger.

“I would have worn shoes,” Blas snarled looking down to his feet. “This blessed ground is already burning!”

Hernan and Aaron Laughed at the Knight Templar as they caught up to the sage now at the entrance to the holy temple.

The priest suddenly took on a peculiar look and the air around them became still as a sudden seriousness closed in around them all. Blas and

Aaron looked at each other and then to Hernan, who now looked a little less sure of himself.

“Praise the Lord,” Blas said.

“Praise the Lord,” Aaron and Hernan repeated.
They dropped to their knees and began praying while the priest stared on oblivious to them.

The priest pulled his hood over his gray balding head, turned and entered the temple. Blas and Aaron follow when Aaron realizes Hernan was still on his knees.

“Are you coming, Hernan?”

Hernan opened his eyes and quickly looked around.

“Of course,” he said catching up.

They walked through the temple, whose only light derived from torches hanging on the walls. The priest pulled one such torch off the wall and fumbled with some keys as he continued down a hallway adorned with beautiful tapestries. He finally came to a stop at one, removed it and revealed a door unknown to Blas or Aaron, though they had been in the temple numerous times.

“Why have I not seen this room before?” Blas asked the priest.

The old priest either ignored him or could not hear in his current state, which began to worry Blas.

They followed the priest through the door and walked down a long narrow passageway, which opened up, into a huge room filled with books, scrolls, and paintings. Tables formed in the shape of a U were scattered throughout the large hall. Ancient scrolls covered the surfaces of the tables as old men in white robes hovered over them, studying, conferring and writing.

One particular part of their uniform robes immediately caught Aaron’s eye. They all bore the golden Seal of Solomon over the left breast of the ivory robes. A sign of the ancient group known as The Priests of Solomon. Their presence had not been seen on the earth since King Solomon died.

Upon the trio’s entrance, all sound and movement stopped as everyone in the room watched them enter. Looks of recognition passed over the faces of the robed men and they put their books and papers down, destined to greet the entourage at the door.

As if rehearsed a thousand times, they bowed in unison.

Blas followed their eyes and realized they were not bowing to him or the priest. They were bowing to

Aaron. He stepped aside to fully reveal him.

Aaron looked at Blas and then to the men before his feet. Confusion filled his face and he was about to speak when a voice from the rear of the room interrupted him.

“Lord Aaron, Master Blas, you have finally arrived.”

A man walked towards them. He was dressed in a red robe, a golden Seal of Solomon emblazoned on his chest.

“I am sorry, do I know you?” Aaron asked politely.

“No, you do not, but I know you quite well. My name is Daniel, Nineteenth Priest of Solomon. A position passed on from my father and his father and so on. All these men you see here are descendents of the original order. All are here because this day was foretold by King Solomon before his death. My ancestors scribed his words and their ancestors,” he said pointing to the kneeling men, “ have been deciphering ever since.”

Daniel turned to the kneeling priests. “Back to work now.”

The men got to their feet mumbling excitedly, and returned to their lifelong endeavor with a fervor.

Daniel approached Aaron and Blas. He pulled his hood down and revealed his face. He was a young, handsome man with brown hair and strong features.

Though his face was young, his eyes revealed vast amounts of knowledge and understanding. Of power.

“Please come with me,” he asked.

They followed Daniel to the back of the library, through extended rows of books and scrolls older than the sand foundation of the temple. They passed through yet another door and into a huge room that was vividly rich in color. The furniture, deep mahogany, rivaled any king’s palace.

“What is this all about?” Aaron asked. “Why were those men bowing to me?”

“That is one of the reasons I have summoned you all here,” Daniel replied.

“So it was you who used my seal to bring Aaron here?” Blas demanded.

“It was not I,” Daniel said. “I assure you. We all work for a higher purpose, or have you forgotten that, Master Templar?”

Ashamed, Blas relented. “Of course not. I am here but by the will of God.”

“Good. The Prophecy of Solomon, as I said before, was scribed by my ancestor. For hundreds of years, we have worked to translate it, for the king spoke in a foreign tongue.

What I am about to relate to you is the reason you are all here. You will understand everything you need to when we are done and you will go on to complete your mission. Now everyone sit. You too Hernan, you’re involved as well.”

They all sat as servants entered with water, grapes and wine.

*****
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http://www.solomonchronicles.com