The Hermaphrodite's Curse Ch. 22

PART THREE - PARIS

- 7 -

The Grand Prior of Villeneuve arrived in a bad mood. He had just flown back into France that morning and that never made him very happy. He hated having to share the confined, enclosed space of an aircraft with all those sweating, screaming, chattering people even for such a small space of time as this. In general, the Prior felt that one of the advantages of being in a position of such importance as his was that in when in command you could send other people to do the travelling and the work for you while you directed them from home and comfort. He had always seen himself as more of a planner than a doer. He was the brains, the visionary, other people were there to enact his plans. Still, the situation now was such that he felt he needed perhaps to take on a more hands on approach.

At least his office here was appropriately grand and offered him the requisite level of comfort after his unpleasant journey. It was a large, expansive space where he sat at a grand chair that was almost more like a throne. The walls were lined with the Prior's private library of mediaeval and early modern texts, many of them the only copies containing the Order's history and secrets. His large oak desk had, perched on top of it, a giant gold bird of prey encrusted with jewels. The Prior sat himself down in the chair and began to think things through.

He had to admit that he had underestimated that shy, effeminate photographer and his angry girl companion. Of all the people that had coming searching for the secret of Salmacis over the years, these seemed far the least likely to succeed. And yet they had managed to make their way this far. The Prior was beginning to suspect that these two unlikely mystery solvers might just have that different outlook that it would take to discover the Fountain once and for all. He was starting to think that maybe it would be better to keep them alive just that little bit longer, just out of curiosity to see what they did next.

He did not usually have any regrets about the tough decisions that he had had to make. He knew that everything that he did was for the greater good, to restore the Order to their former position of glory and power and maybe something greater. He knew that the world would be a better place with the Order being in control, there would be moral discipline and things would be done in the right way in the right place. The power would be theirs, would be his, to set things right, to bring back the traditional values and ways of living.

It was unfortunate what happened to Professor White, but it was a necessary evil. Deaths did not bother the Prior like they did some smaller minded people, because he could see where they fit into the grander plan and where they would serve a greater purpose. Eventually, he knew, he would look back on the whole incident as having been part of that which allowed the Order finally to fulfil its destiny.

He never usually had regrets, however he was starting to feel he may have been a little hasty in hiring those brutal twin assassins, the men calling themselves Phobus and Deimus. He was a man that liked to be in control and he was learning that these two were harder to control than he had hoped. The very reason he had hired them, their brutality, their ruthless determination to see things through, their utter lack of any compassion or more gentle traits and their single minded moral code, made them almost impossible to contradict.

He had heard stories about these two that he barely believed, but now was not so sure about, it was said that they had ritually castrated themselves out of disdain for feelings of sexual desire. They were supposed to loathe sexuality in all its forms more than anything else. That partly scared the Prior. Of course, he knew that homosexuality was an abomination, that men and women had a place that they needed to keep to, but he also knew that sexual relations between men and women were both necessary and an important part of reinforcing power relations. The single mindedness displayed by the twins took none of that into account. They saw everything in black and white, where the Prior appreciated that everything was really about appropriately manipulating shades of grey.

Unlike him, they saw death, violence and chaos as important for their own sake, they did not understand the bigger picture or the greater good. The Prior had always been convinced of the worth of what he was doing and was a little put off at having to work with men even he thought to be doing wrong. Just look at how difficult it had been for him to get them to not kill the boy in Cambridge. They had been so determined to do it and would not understand how having him alive to take blame for the murders would suit the bigger picture far better.

There was a knock on the door and in came one of his many robed acolytes. Drawing back his hood, the newcomer revealed himself as Detective Inspector Gilbert. The Prior had relied on Gilbert in Cambridge to engineer the evidence to suggest the boy as the murderer of Professor Cavendish and, as a result, had had to include the detective in his plans rather more than he would otherwise have done. After his rage at discovering the two amateur mystery solvers had left the country, he had sent Gilbert to find them.

"You had better be bringing me good news, Gilbert," the Prior said, with a sneer in his French accented English.

"I've found them," came the reply, "They went to the Louvre, as predicted, they're searching for clues on the statue."

"Good," the Prior smiled, they were following the same predictable course as everyone else who had searched for the secret in the past, there was not much to discover there, "And now?"

"They found something, a clue," said Gilbert with a certain amount of surprise.

"Really?" the Prior's sneering tone continued, "Interesting...Maybe they're more capable than we gave them credit for. And what did they learn?"

"Nothing we don't know already, they're headed for the Mausoleum. It will be easy to ensure that they have a little accident along the way. I've looked into it and there's nobody back in England that would much miss either of them."

"No, Gilbert, we'll wait," the Prior came to a decision that, for once, he was not completely sure of, "We'll wait and watch. They discovered a secret in the statue, perhaps we can use their skills, their different style of deduction, to make new discoveries of our own. Keep them alive unless they get too close."

His earlier thoughts seemed confirmed by Gilbert's observations. He had misjudged, somewhat unusual for him, and now he was ready to admit his mistake and work from it. He had underestimated these two and he was not about to do that again. If they wanted to solve the mystery then the Prior was quite happy to let them, provided he could ensure that if they should discover the secret it should come rather into his power than theirs.

"One more thing," Gilbert came in with, just as the Prior was about to dismiss him, "We're not the only ones watching. The naiads are onto them too."

"Good, good," the Prior smiled strangely, "Keep track of them too. If we can get ourselves one of them then we may not need any other help anyway."

"So, what now?" Gilbert asked.

"Now, I think we need to get ourselves to Turkey. Another tiresome bit of air travel, it would seem, and just when I had got settled here. Assemble a team and try to find the next flight out of here."

"Would those two eunuch assassins be a part of that team?" Gilbert said with a shudder of both disgust and fear.

"Hmm, yes, I think we made need their unique abilities if we are to capture a naiad," the Prior considered, "You'd better inform them as well, but we'll have to keep them in check until we need them."

As Gilbert left, the Prior allowed himself a smile despite the loathsome prospect of another plane journey. All the pieces were beginning to come together. These two kids might just be the catalyst for a discovery that the Order had waited centuries for, for their return to power and glory.

END OF PART THREE