Read The Stone of Blood Online

Authors: Tony Nalley

Tags: #Christian, #Fairy Tales; Folk Tales; Legends & Mythology, #Mystery & Detective, #General, #Historical, #Fiction

The Stone of Blood (9 page)

 

Genesis 3:6 so the woman (seeing that the tree was good for meat, and that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be desired, to get knowledge) took of the fruit thereof, and did eat, and gave also to her husband with her, and he did eat.

 

In the years that followed, the legend of the werewolf spread throughout the lands.

For as the full moon sat at apex in the celestial skies, they in turn were hunted by mortal man.

Fear and death ensued as those who were cursed were driven from the town of
Valais
.

And the earth’s climate changed, spreading famine across the continents of Europe and
Asia
.

The ‘Sang
Pierre
’ came then to the city of
Lystra
, where it remained for a time and many families of the clan of the wolf called it home.

 

But as the seat of power and
Kings
Palace
moved to
Paris
from
Troyes
, the royal families took up residence within the old city as well. Those that followed did so in secret, taking
the duty
upon
themselves
of protecting the
‘Prince du Sang’
as well as the stone he carried.

 

As guardians they called themselves
‘the
Order’ (L’ordre choisi du Loup), and
embraced their walk as one of perfect design.

 

While in
Paris
‘the Order’
found themselves set apart by unnaturally long life. For the curse held that whosoever remained within the sphere of the stone’s influence would remain suspended in time; ageless, while a mortal’s death would follow those who walked outside of its persuasion, returning then to the dust of the fields.

 

And so, as the centuries passed, the Order’s
influence spread
, growing as their offspring immersed themselves into the general populations; and becoming an integral part of the overall structure of
France
. They took up offices in government while still others attained higher offices than Parliament, though history would not record their contributions. For by sacred oath, knowledge of the Order and the identities of its members would remain shrouded in a cloud of closely guarded secrecy.

 

As the end of the age drew to conclusion, the Reign of Terror crescendoed in
Paris
, bringing with it executions of Aristocracy, manufactured solely for public display.

 

R
ivalries within the Order became divisive then as one sect embraced these Revolutionary ideals, giving in to their more carnal inclinations and
embraceing the ‘New Religion of Reason’; garnering their might behind the forces of tyranny, and seeking
to usurp the ‘Sang
Pierre’, to create a new, more perfect Order!

 

Those who remained true to their Christian faith and purpose severed all ties to their bloodline.

 

And
the ‘
Order’ was broken.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Six

 

By a Single Candle’s Light

 

 

 

Mr. Jones was a friend of mine. He reminded me alot of my grandpa.

 

He was our next door neighbor on Daughtry when I was five. And he didn’t mind at all when I would crawl through the hole in our bushes that separated our yards, and come over for breakfast some mornin’s.

 

He was a tall, thin gray haired man and he always wore a tan uniform. He lived all alone in the house with the exception of a lady who worked for him as his maid. Her name was Ms. Lillie. She was the first black lady I’d ever met and she was very nice to me.

 

Ms. Lillie always wore a blue polka dotted dress with a white apron and she would cook bacon and eggs for me whenever I would come over to visit!

 

“Good mornin’, Ms. Lillie.” I said standing on the stone steps lookin’ up at her through the screen door.

 

“Well, good morning there, Mr. Toby! How are you doing this fine morning?” she replied.

 

“I’m doin’ real fine Ms. Lillie.” I said thinkin’ of the right words to say to get me invited inside to eat. “I smelled your good cookin’ all the way over there from my yard! And I thought I would just come over here and say hello to you.”

 

“Well why don’t you just come on in here then and get yourself something to eat?” she said openin’ the kitchen door for me and invitin’ me in. “Just sit yourself down there at the table and I’ll get some bacon on the stove for you.” she said smilin’ at me. “How do you like your eggs?”

 

“I like my eggs just fine Ma’am.” I said as she continued to smile.

 

Mr. Jones was sittin’ down in his chair, with his plate of breakfast in front of him. And I climbed up in the chair directly across the table from him and said hello.

 

“Good mornin’ Mr. Jones!” I said all kind and cheerful like.

 

Mr. Jones smiled and nodded his head as he scraped up the last of the eggs from his plate and took another bite.

 

As the bacon sizzled on the stove, the sound of fresh eggs broken in a skillet made my mouth water. The wonderful smells of breakfast foods filled the entire room! Just then, a slight tappin’ noise could be heard from just outside the kitchen door.

 

“Hello Ms. Lillie and Mr. Jones.” A voice came in softly through the screen. “Is Toby over here again?”

 

I would never tell my mama where I was goin’. I don’t know why I wouldn’t tell her. Maybe I would simply see the hole located in the bushes between our two yards and would have to make a run for it! I just don’t know. I wouldn’t be gone for very long though, before she would come and find me! She generally found me at the precise time my food was ready to be served! With my mouth waterin’ and my heart set upon a pleasant breakfast shared amongst friends, she would find me and take me right home!

 

“I’m so sorry Mr. Jones. I’m sorry if he’s disturbing you.” Mama said as Ms. Lillie opened the door for her. She came in and stood in the walkway.

 

“It’s alright Maria, he’s in good company,” Mr. Jones said as he winked and then smiled at me like a Cheshire cat.

 

Mama was always apologizin’ to Mr. Jones and Ms. Lillie for my many visits. I never could understand why. I knew she never liked me playin’ over there near Mr. Jones’s cellar door cause it was so dark and I could fall in, but they liked for me to visit em’ and they liked to feed me too! At least that’s what they always told me anyways.

 

Mr. Jones once told me that Snow White and the Seven Dwarves lived down in his basement! He said that, ‘
if I looked through the vent in his living room floor, that I could see them playing down there
’!

 

I believed Mr. Jones. And I would lie on that floor looking down through the dark metal screen for what seemed like hours, lookin’ for a glimpse of those seven dwarves. I couldn’t tell time. It might’ve only been a few minutes in real life but it sure did feel like a long time to me!

 

Lyin’ there upon that hardwood floor peerin’ through that cold black metallic screen, my imaginations lead me into whole different worlds filled with strange and wonderful things!

 

I could never see em’ though; the dwarves in the basement I mean. I thought I did a time or two, but they turned out to be only speckled bits of dust I imagined.

 

It was hard for me to believe at the time that Mr. Jones had Snow White and the Seven Dwarves livin’ down in his basement and yet he wouldn’t let me play with em’! That puzzled me.

 

I guess he thought I might scare em’ away.

 

One afternoon as he sat beneath the shade of a peach tree in his back yard, Mr. Jones told me that
the seed he held in his hand was really an ostridge egg!
Lucky for him, I didn’t know what an ostridge egg was at the time. Or maybe it was unlucky for him, dependin’ upon how you looked at it. I believed Mr. Jones so therefore it must have been true. Although, I’d to admit that I did have my doubts!

 

I am not sure why he laughed at me when he caught me takin’ a second look at that peach tree though, but I didn’t mind.

 

I found out a few years ago that Mr. Jones had never married.

 

From what my mama told me, through old newspaper clippings that had been pieced together and from old letters that he had written and kept hidden away, we found that Mr. Jones had once been very much in love.

 

She had been beautiful. He had asked her to be his wife and she had told him ‘
yes
’. But in a tragic turn of events, an automobile accident had taken her life.

 

I could almost imagine him sittin’ there, alone in his room by his bedroom light; as he read and reread her letters.

 

Though many years had passed, he had never stopped lovin’ her.

 

They found a picture of me, my mama, my daddy and my baby sister on the top of his television set the day after Mr. Jones went to heaven. We still have that picture. And we will always remember him.

 

Mr. Jones was a friend of mine.

 

***

 

September 1793

 

Two men stood in shadows within hallowed chambers, deep within the catacombs beneath Notre Dame Cathedral in
Paris
, assessing the details of their departure and seeking wisdom from the word of God.

 

Much had changed within this old city in such a very small, almost infinitesimal amount of time.

 

While the Revolution had thrown down the Catholic doctrines that had suppressed its people through strife and inquisitions, it had brought with it extreme liberal and atheistic ideologies.

 

The de-Christianization
had begun at first throughout the country of
France
, with the sacrilege of the Church and its people; churches became stables, warehouses, and pigsties.

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