The Prophecy - 5. Chapter 5

There is yet time! The cry was ear-splitting. Jason awoke with a start. His ears were ringing and the words echoed in his mind. He sat up in his bed and switched on the light. He sat silently until the words faded away. Jason wiped the sweat from his forehead. The cry had been urgent, pleading and desperate. The man in his dream had called out to him again. Jason felt driven to act, to do something, if only he knew what to do. He got up and poured a glass of water. He drank it slowly, and then, almost frightened, he went back to bed, but nothing else happened that night.

Jason ate his breakfast listlessly. It was nine o’clock in the morning. He was exhausted and tired. The bell rang. Jason opened the door. Leonard was standing outside.

"You’re looking wretched," Leonard said. "Another dream?"

Jason shook his head. "Just a terrible cry." He told Leonard of his experience.

"I’m having news," Leonard said. His eyes rested sympathetically on Jason. "Would you like to come up?" he asked.

Jason nodded and took his key. He followed Leonard to his apartment. Leonard made coffee.

"I called Gary," Leonard said. "I didn’t mention your name. I told him I had had a vivid dream about a young man living in the year 1012. I told him I had resumed my studies on supernatural things and was speculating if perhaps the dream had a deeper meaning. Gary laughed and teased me for my odd interests. He doubted the dream had called me to solve some mystery of the past, but he promised to look up in his books if anything odd happened in the year 1012. I said the man had perhaps fled a cloister. He had a shaven crown. He was most likely a monk. Gary was not very confident. But if anyone, then Gary will find it. His memory is excellent. I have no doubt he will research thoroughly."

Leonard took his cup of coffee and had just taken a sip when the telephone rang. He placed the cup cautiously back on the table and went into the corridor. He came back a minute later with a broad smile.

"You can rely on Gary," he said cheerfully. "He has found something. Come, Jason, let’s go and see him. You have a car, haven’t you?" he asked.

Jason nodded and rose to his feet. "I’m back in a minute. I’m getting my car keys," he said.

"A Bugatti?" Leonard asked. "I don’t think I could stand the high speed."

Jason gave a laugh. "No, I’m not a millionaire. A compact car, a Ford Focus," he said.

One and a half hour later, they arrived at Gary’s country house. Leonard rang the bell and an elder man opened. He was dressed in brown cord pants and a blue wool cardigan. His white hair was dishevelled. He greeted Leonard warmly and then looked at Jason with a questioning look.

"Jason Bolding," Jason introduced himself.

"My assistant," Leonard said. "Jason is extremely interested in supernatural studies, downright involved in them, so to speak."

Gary reached out his hand to Jason. "Gary Conelly. Nice to meet you." he said.

He made a gesture with his hand and invited them to enter the house. He led them to a big and comfortably furnished study and asked them to sit down at a table that was covered with papers and books.

"My research table," he explained. "I don’t like to sit at a desk. The plush chairs are far more comfortable and more adequate to a man of my age. Would you like a drink?" he asked.

While he made tea, Jason and Leonard had a look at the books and papers. Finally, Gary came back with mugs, a teapot, and biscuits and placed all on top of the papers.

"Help yourselves," he said as he sat down in a plush chair.

"All right," Leonard said. "What have you found out? I’m curious, Gary."

Gary straightened in his chair. "Well," he said in a meaningful voice. "I have found something. I wasn’t very confident, but I consulted a few books. It was already midnight when I was about to give up, but something was nagging on my mind. And then it occurred to me. I once had read a footnote. It took me some time to find it, but here it is," he said, seizing a book. He placed it in front of Jason and Leonard.

Leonard leaned forward. "French," he said in a consternated voice.

"Yes," Gary replied. "The author is a Frenchman. The book is about the history of Saint Denis, a large medieval abbey in the north of Paris. In late Roman times the site was a Gallo-Roman cemetery. St. Genevieve purchased some of the land in 475 and built a church. Dagobert I replaced it by a much grander construction in the 7th century. The place became the burial place of the French kings. The place is of somewhat importance."

Jason and Leonard exchanged a glance and then looked at Gary expectantly. Gary pointed at the footnote.

"This is what might interest you," he said. "The author alludes to an event in the year 1012. He refers to a letter that the abbot wrote to the king. The letter is only preserved in fragments. The abbot complains of the degeneration of morals and accused four monks of collusion with the devil. He mourns the death of a fine young man, victim of the demiurge’s henchmen. He banned the four monks from the cloister. In absentia, as they had already left without the abbot’s permission." Gary folded his hands. "What exactly are you researching on? I suspect you have not yet told me all," he said.

Leonard smiled. "You know me well," he replied, and then recounted the story.

Gary’s eyes rested thoughtfully on Jason. "I’m afraid I can’t help you more," he said. "Perhaps you should talk to an expert, someone specialized in the history of Saint Denis." He rubbed his eyes, pondering, and then looked at them excitedly. "Why don't you talk to the author of the book?" he asked. He seized the book and opened it. "He wrote it in 1975. Do some research on the internet. I heard it can be helpful at times."

Jason pulled out his cell phone. "I'm having access to the internet," he said.

"You have internet?" Leonard asked Gary with surprise.

Gary shrugged. "I don’t know. An employee of the telephone company visited me a couple of months ago and talked me into a new contract and a technician came here and installed a new telephone connection. At least that was what I understood. I pay less now. That convinced me."

"I have found the man," Jason said. "I googled his name: Antoine Lambert, church historian, residing in Paris. The book about Saint Denis was his thesis. Age sixty-five, emeritus, retired professor. Here’s a list of the books he published."

Jason held out his cell phone to the others.

"You ought to approach modern technology with an open mind," Gary said in an impressed voice. "That’s what my grandson told me."

"In fact," Leonard replied. He took a biscuit. "Does this mean we need to travel to Paris?"

"We better call him first or send him an email," Jason replied. "We need his number or email address. I’ll find out about them."

Jason and Leonard returned to London. Jason researched on Antoine Lambert’s contact dates. He wrote an email to the university where the man had lectured and four hours later he got a response. The department secretary gave him Lambert’s email address. Jason excitedly set up a message and then impatiently waited for a reply. He slept well that night, no dream haunted him. As soon as he had gotten up, he checked his cell phone and found Antoine Lambert’s reply. In fluent English the man asked for more details as to Jason’s request. Jason sent another email, and then hurried to inform Leonard.

"If we’re lucky, then he’ll agree to see us, Leonard. We’ll drive over in the morning and we’ll be back in the evening. This shouldn’t be a problem at all," he said.

"Drive through the tunnel?" Leonard asked in a pressed voice.

"Would you prefer to fly?" Jason asked in astonishment.

"No, no," Leonard replied, his face as white as snow. "Either way sounds like a trip to hell."

Jason gave a laugh and then checked his cell phone again.

"Get a bag packed, Leonard, just in case we need to stay in Paris overnight for whatever reason," he said. "Antoine Lambert has replied. He offers to see us tomorrow at noon. He invites us to have lunch with him in a restaurant."

"Goodness," Leonard said. "Things are moving fast. Too fast for me, I think."

Jason gave him an encouraging look. "You have a whole day for packing a bag and getting accustomed to it, Leonard," he said. "Just imagine. A day in Paris. Sounds good to me. I wonder what they have there for lunch."

Leonard gave Jason a consternated look and shook his head slightly. Then he rose to his feet with a sigh.

"What has to be done, needs to be done," he said resignedly.

They set out for Paris the following day at half past four in the morning. Leonard had given in to his fate. He sat in the car quietly, but cheered up as soon as they had passed the Channel Tunnel. His curiosity was back and even a certain spirit of adventure.

"We’re getting closer to our goal," he exclaimed when they arrived at Paris.

Jason gave a laugh. He drove on, following the instructions of his navigation system. He parked the car and then drew a paper from a pocket of his jacket. Leonard gave him a questioning look.

"A map of the area where the restaurant is located. I printed it from the internet," Jason explained. "Mr. Lambert awaits us there at twelve o’clock. We’re a bit in a hurry."

Leonard checked his watch. "Only twenty more minutes. Is it far from here, Jason?"

"This street down and up this one," Jason replied, his finger following the way on the map. "We should make it in time, I think."

They left the car park and followed the route that Jason had figured out. They entered the small restaurant at five past twelve. It was far from the places that attracted tourists and therefore it was not crowded at all. Four Frenchmen were sitting at small tables, having lunch or just a coffee. The light in the room was dim and the air smelled of cinnamon. The wallpapers were anthracite-coloured with dark green ornaments and a few faded monochrome pictures in brazen frames hung on the walls.

A small man in a black coat rose from a chair when Jason and Leonard entered. He approached them.

"Messieurs Bolding and Sullivan?" he asked, looking between them.

Jason nodded and reached out his hand. "Mr. Lambert. I’m glad to meet you. I’m Jason Bolding. We have exchanged emails," he said.

"Welcome to Paris," Antoine Lambert said with a polite smile, shaking Jason’s hand briefly. "Welcome to Le Bijou, 'the jewel' in your language, my favourite restaurant. It’s quiet, calm, and very original." He turned to Leonard who stood watching him. "Monsieur Sullivan, what a surprise, I imagined a younger man, but it seems we’re about the same age. Welcome to Paris."

Leonard shook the man’s hand and thanked him for his invitation. Antoine Lambert pointed at the far end of the room.

"I have lunch here every day. May I invite you to sit down at my table," he said.

"Garçon," he hissed as they passed by the waiter.

Antoine Lambert spoke a few words to the man, too rapid for Jason to understand or even grasp the meaning.

"I learned French at school, but I have never practised the language," he said to Leonard as they followed Lambert to his table.

"My French is not only a little rusty, it has faded away completely over the years," Leonard said drily.

They sat down and, after discussing the menu at some length, they ordered their meals.

"I have ordered an aperitif, vin d’orange, you will like it," Antoine Lambert said.

He leaned back, adjusted his glasses, wiped his full beard, and then looked at Jason and Leonard expectantly.

"Alors, tell me more. I understood the matter was of exceptional urgency," he said.