The Lost Prophecies

The Lost Prophecies by The Medieval Murderers

Book: The Lost Prophecies by The Medieval Murderers Read Free Book Online
Authors: The Medieval Murderers
Ads: Link
darkest moods were to be believed. Why should she wait for me, when I was as poor as a lagoon fisherman, and a marked man to boot?
    ‘Here it is.’
    I sighed and turned my gaze back to the confines of the room. Alberoni was waving a darkly bound tome at me.
    ‘This is the Black Book of Brân – prophecies that go back hundreds of years. But still speak truths to us today. Listen.’
    He proceeded to recite one of the quatrains, which were all in Latin. Now it may surprise you to know that I knew the Church language myself. It may shock you even more to learn that I know it because I studied once for the priesthood. That was before the jingle of money diverted me on to a more lucrative path and broke my mother’s heart. She had been set on me being a priest. Anyway, the poem, if I recall went something like this:
    Though lightning and bare skull his banner bear
And all the world is ’neath a storm confined,
When hands across the sea are joinéd there,
Then righteousness is brought to heathen minds.
    This he took for justification for his holy embassy to the pagan Tartars, even when I pointed out that they rode under a banner of nine yak-tails, not a skull.
    ‘Don’t quibble, Niccolo. They have left enough skulls behind them for it to be true. And the rest fits – the storm of the pagan hordes sweeping across the world. And if the West joins hands – we can bring righteousness to them.’
    I sniffed in disdain. ‘You can make any events fit such vague ramblings. Have any of these prophecies actually come true?’
    Alberoni’s eyes lit up. ‘Yes, yes. They say that at the end of the last century a rebellion in England was clearly prophesied. If the scribe of the book lived in Ireland in the seventh century, how could he know about such an event?’
    A little mouse of doubt began to scurry across my brain. I needed to reassure myself that a book of prophecies written in a far-off land hundreds of years ago was nonsense.
    ‘Let me see.’
    I took the thin but oddly heavy book from his reluctant grasp, flicking carelessly through the pages. Scanning the verses quickly and choosing one at random, I stabbed a finger at a quatrain.
    ‘Take this one, for example.
    “When three popes all murdered lie,
And Christ’s own kingdom desecrated . . .”
    ‘Three Popes murdered? It’s ridiculous. Or this:
    “Tartarus’ hordes irrupt through Alexander’s gate.
Six Christian kingdoms crumble in a breath.
Though Latin traders use long spoons to eat,
It won’t protect them from a demon’s death.” ’
    I had intended to pour scorn on the prophecies, but suddenly this quatrain struck a chord, as if my choice had not been random after all but directed by a hidden hand. ‘Tartarus’ for the Tartars? And did the ‘ Latin traders ’ refer to me? Something had made me shudder when I read the last line too. It spoke of a personal foretaste of doom. Outside, a chilly wind whipped across the window opening, and I pretended my shivering was all to do with the plummeting temperature.Then I started to examine the book more closely. I could see straight away that it was not several hundred years old. The pages were relatively crisp and the illuminations bright and clear. I chortled.
    ‘The book is not ancient at all. No wonder the faker could insert a verse about an event sixty-something years ago. It was already in his past. This is like the letter that some claim to have seen that Prester John wrote to the West. The one that would make him over a hundred and fifty years old.’
    Alberoni’s face went red. Though I didn’t realize it at the time, he had good reason to believe in the well-known Prester John myth. It centred on a letter purporting to come from the Far East, where a Christian ruler awaited his call to come and save the West in its hour of most need. To me, it was a neat forgery by an expert who made his money selling hope to the fearful. My mother had told me fairy tales of a similar king hiding under the earth in

Similar Books

Tiger Rag

Nicholas Christopher

Calder Promise

Janet Dailey

Burned

Sarah Morgan

The Deputy

Victor Gischler

Miss Jane's Undoing

Sophia Jiwani