Blackguard Posted May 17, 2016 Share Posted May 17, 2016 At midnight a place such as this was quiet as a tomb. Fortress-like painted walls and pointed arches of the early Gothic style adorned the round nave. Stone effigies of knights grasping swords stood silent vigil in a place where an Order had perished 350 years prior. No services were held, even on this holy night, though a single candle burned; a signal to a meeting in the making. Reduced to a mere oddity hidden just off the Strand in London, the Temple was but a shadow of glory long gone. In the darkness a figure moved towards the candlelight, drawn as the proverbial moth. The man was surprised to find no one near the candle, causing him to nervously look around the chamber. "If only these walls could give up their secrets," came the deep melodic disembodied voice from the dimly lit perimeter. The man turned to face the sound with an uncomfortable look. "I am here as you requested." The dimly lit figure advanced three steps. "So you are Monsieur d'Agir." "You said something ... about a book, monsieur ...." "Balthasar." ""Monsieur Balthasar." "Yes, I have the book I mentioned, but you have a book I desire as well." A nervous tension filled the space between the two men. "Why the secrecy Monsieur? We could have met in my bookshop?"" "I thought the setting apropos. I am here about the Key to Acre and I know you search for it here in London, perhaps in this very chapel." Even in the dim light, the Frenchman could sense danger in the eyes of the man who wrapped himself in the name of a Magi. "I-I don't know what you speak of," came the feeble protest. Already the man was glancing towards the nearest exit, sensing a trap. "Then allow me to refresh your memory," came the voice full of menace. The candlelight caught the glint of steel easing from its sheath. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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