The Red Cross of Gold I:. The Knight of Death Read Free

young man known as Anthony
Scalia smiled back at him from the 8 X 10 color photo. The tiny
marks around the edge of the picture spoke a thousand words. The
Grand Master had actually framed the photograph and hung it on the
wall behind his desk, between a gilt-framed print of da Vinci’s
Saint John and his own portrait painted by Sir Louis Champlain when
the multi-talented Chevalier l’Clef d'Or had been going through an
artistic phase just after the First World War. Anthony was not much
older than Christopher, only twenty-two next month. It would be a
real shame if he could not convince him to return to the fold
peacefully and take his punishment like a true Soldier of
Christ.
    ((((((((((((()))))))))))))
    Merry’s voice cut through the woman’s
concentration and she looked up over the newspaper at the blond who
sat across from her at the patio table. “Cecile! You are not
listening to me.”
    “Yes, I am, little girl.” Cecile reached
around the paper, picked up her glass of milk and took a small sip
after sniffing the stuff suspiciously. She laid the paper on the
table beside her breakfast and picked up a half-eaten piece of
toast, nibbling at it absently. Her dark eyes scanned the blond
woman’s face as she tried to remember the topic of conversation.
“Why are you so upset?”
    “Where is Anthony?” Merry asked again.
    “He’s gone.” Cecile sighed and her shoulders
slumped. They had been through this a dozen times. “And good
riddance."
    “I liked Anthony!” Merry whined plaintively.
“And I think he like me, too. Or at least, he was beginning to.
This is not going to work if you keep finding fault with everyone I
find! I’ll be a withered a woman in a few years and…”
    “Well, he’s gone,” Cecile retorted, cutting
her off and allowing irritation to creep into her voice. “Merry,
look, Anthony was just a gold-digger. We would have never been rid
of him... well, that's not exactly true," Cecile laughed slightly.
"Trust me, sweetie. You will have what you want and then we’ll live
happily forever after.”
    “What are you talking about? You know I have
a totally different taste in men than you do and... What do you
mean that's not exactly true?"
    Cecile smiled and leaned forward. "Actually,
there was more to Anthony than I knew. It seems he was more my type
than you know. He was a fugitive.”
    "Whaat?" Merry's eyes widened.
    "Not a criminal. He was a Templar. An
apprentice to one of the Knights. It seems he didn't care for their
lifestyle after he joined up. Anyhow, he was on the run."
    "Why?"
    "Because this particular Order is the real
thing, Merry. Blood in/blood out. Just like the gangs in LA.
Someone was chasing him. Someone would have eventually caught him
and killed him."
    “How…what are you talking about, Cecile?!”
Merry cut her off and picked up her orange juice. Cecile loved
drama and Merry was determined not to fall into the trap…
again.
    “If you had been paying attention to the boy
instead of just trying to get him in your bed…,” Cecile grumbled
and took up her paper again. “He told me that he was not only an
apprentice, but he was the Grand Master's apprentice. Don't you
remember what I told you about?”
    “What? That there is an Order with a bunch of
immortal members and they know the secret of immortality? What are
they? Vampires?” Merry continued to irritate her with more
questions.
    “No! Would you stop?” Cecile asked coldly.
“They are not vampires. Good grief, you really take the cake,
Meredith Nichole! Don't you see? If one of the immortals was after
Anthony, he'll come here looking for him. And we'll be ready for
him. I want to know about this Philosopher's Stone. According to
Anthony, the one coming after him is called the Knight of Death.
Strangely enough, he seems to also know all about the Philosopher's
Stone. Can you imagine what that means, Merry?"
    "Sounds dangerous to me." Merry sniffed and
allowed one perfect tear to escape the corner of her