Order of the Rose

THE SUMMER SOLSTICE SUN HIT THE CHURCH OF THE ROSE at an angle, reflecting off of the longsword’s fuller on the steeple, the weapon cleverly disguised with an inlay of red, blue and silver tiles. The light struck a natural rock in the distance that roughly resembled a cross and slowly began to make its way across the stone.

A small apple cart under an apple tree in front of the church had seen better days, a dozen apples it contained had attracted a doe; she ate before hearing an unfamiliar sound, bolting toward the woods, better to be safe than to become a meal for someone.

The church, surrounded by apple trees, was a magnificent structure even in its current condition. It was made of amethyst colored stones of which its origin was unknown with stained glass windows all around. Several red stone archways led to the entrance, etched with scenes of horses, dragons, and roses. There was a shield on all three doors of the holy dwelling, displaying two crossed swords encircled by roses. The Queen commanded that the area of the church remain overgrown as she didn’t want any undue attention upon it.

The basilica had been there for more than a thousand years on Harian Hill overlooking the Kingdom of Saint Jostra in the distance. The Order of the Rose had once called it home, or so the legend told. A group of knight priests that defended many kingdoms from marauders and evil doers, until about four hundred years ago when they were all killed off in a massive battle. The fight was said to have been tainted, told to have been an ambush by the Evil King of Krotilia and his three nasty sorcerers. But it was so long ago who could say what was fact and what was fancy. Some said it was just a tale passed down by storytellers from long ago.

The church was about a quarter of a league from Saint Jostra. There were remnants of old buildings in the area of the church, mostly just a few stones in the shape of what once had been the old Saint Jostra before it had again risen in its new location. The Queen had an old painting of what the kingdom had resembled, and she thought there was a beautiful style to it and to Her Majesty it looked magical.

A crow cawed from a nearby apple tree.

“Between and betwixt,” said the old man. Willelmus came from the back the church with a small brown book in his hand. The tome had a hole directly through it, and he was looking at the stone through the hole as he leveled it. Willelmus’s brown robe was dragging in the dirt as he moved and he was talking to himself. “Between and betwixt are the same words, aren’t they? I suppose so. The same meaning in any case.” He stood motionless, then turned and gazed up at the roof for what seemed like a long time to the bird.

Caw!

The ancient church’s roof, partially collapsed, had endured a siege hundreds of years ago, hit by a large boulder from a catapult. It had been an epic battle. Another church now took its place nearer the rebuilt kingdom of Saint Jostra. Some claimed to see an eerie glow originating from the church after sunset, and others thought it was haunted.

A woman was approaching the church, making her way up the long winding trail, stopping briefly to stare at Willelmus. She raised the brass knocker that was in the shape of the sun hitting the heavy church door three times, it opened slowly with a creak, and the priest stuck his hooded head out and smiled at her.

“Good morning,” said Lady Varsha. She had turned forty last week but remained as beautiful as if she were twenty-five. She had shiny silver hair and green eyes. She wore a dark blue dress with crimson highlights around the neck that ran down the sides.

Willelmus, watching and listening received another glance from Lady Varsha but everyone knew he was not of sound mind. One morning she had watched him drink out of a mud puddle. “Bird, come here. I said come here now I need to tell you something.” The crow landed on Willelmus’s left index finger as he held his hand. “The sweet cherries are ripe this morning; you should get your share before the other birds eat them all and if they do don’t come squawking to me.”

The bird departed as if it understood.

The priest in his brown robe nodded to her; then Lady Varsha entered. The structure was to be renovated, but always at some future time. The King was not interested in spending the time or gold to have it done, and now that the kingdom was weakened by war it was pushed off indefinitely.

Inside the church, the sun passed through one window creating a ray of light that looked heavenly, and as Lady Varsha went through her dress appeared even more lovely. She seemed a bit angelic as she stood in the rays.

Just outside the church near the stone path a magpie was singing in a Spartan apple tree, surrounded by dark plum red apples as a blue jay flew overhead, cocking its head at a black dragon soaring above it. “And how are you?” said Willelmus to himself. And then he stood in a different position to answer. “You know about the same. My back and my knees hurt, my big toe is swollen this morning because I hit it with a hammer, not deliberately of course. My neck is so sore that I can crack it. Listen to this. Snap, crack!

“I am here on orders from the Queen,” said Varsha from the pew. “You haven’t found it yet have you?”

Obe shook his head. “No, I have not Lady Varsha.” He lowered his hood revealing more of his face and his shaved head. “We are not even sure if it exists.”

“Queen Alycie is sure, and that’s what matters, is it not?”

“Yes, of course.”

“We have scholars studying the tome that mentions it but still no answers.” Lady Varsha wasn’t sure how much pressure to put on him.

“Yes, and the Queen believes it is near the church but so far no sign of it.” Obe walked briskly to the alter. “Here, Varsha, come and see this.”

A crack on the floor was now visible after a good washing; Obe stuck an old sword in it and pried it open revealing steps leading down. He removed the burning sconce from the wall and held it high chasing some of the darkness away over what had been a hidden chamber. “Now, don’t get your hopes up as the room is empty but come down and see it for yourself.”

The Queen would delight at the discovery. Lady Varsha followed him down to the empty room. The smell of mold permeated the air. It was built of purple rock but was empty except for an old book with only five pages remaining in it. Five blank pages. “Is it possible there exists another secret chamber in here?”

“I haven’t found one, but magic can be tough to uncover. And, of course, there is always danger where a hidden door is sealed by magic. But I shall risk all for her Majesty.”

If she were a sorceress, she would transform him into a toad just for the hell of it. Obe rubbed her the wrong way, and it was hard to feign otherwise. “The King is off on a hunt, and so the Queen will be up here today. She will be pleased that you found this but not so happy that it is empty. However, it is a discovery. Surely there must have been something else in here?”

“It is as I discovered it. That piece of book has been moved, and that’s it.” Obe smiled inwardly. No one trusts anyone these days.

Lady Varsha looked at him suspiciously, wondering if Obe was telling the truth.

Outside, an old knight of almost seventy with stringy hair was on an old steed that had seen better days struggled up the hill. When he reached the stone Ernoldus dismounted with some difficulty, laying a single red rose at its base. He had been a big man but time had bent him like a bow’s wood. The warrior in dirty armor knelt down on one knee and nodded, spent some time in reflection and then mounted his horse and took in the view from the hill. In the distance past rolling green hills was a path leading into the thick woods. He rode down and onto the trail.