Snippet 18: SisterJeanne
- Location
- Mountains of Appalachia
Operation: BUTTERKNIFE (Part XVI)
The Mountain of Flint, Sahara Desert
7 February 1942
Delilah turned in a full circle, flexing her healed left arm as she surveyed the island. Green grass neatly grew on a gently sloping incline of thirty meters between the cursed water of the moat to where suddenly a wall of flint rose into the endless sandstorm above. All was peaceful.
She didn't buy that promised peace for an instant.
There was nothing in sight, just a heat-shimmer from where the remains of the creatures that she and her sister had slain lay.
To her side Colombe made her own observation circuit, her steel rapier blade sharp and bright in her hand, although less keen than her eyes.
"You see anything Del?"
"Nothing, Sis. You?"
"Non. So, left or right?"
Delilah took a deep breath; flipping a mental coin as she did.
"Left. Let's go deosil, sunward. Also the grass is undisturbed. Keep alert."
"Oui. I'll take point, Sis." The Rapier nodded and headed to the left, with Delilah moving behind her, her eyes flickering in constant vigilance.
They had continued around the island (which Delilah noted was perfectly round and no doubt unnatural) for half an hour until they reached the point opposite their start. Both sisters paused as they saw that unlike the suspected perfect circle, the larger island was apparently a C shape, with a single cross-shaped smaller island in the gap.
A simple bridge of white marble spanned the gap between the land they were on and the cross, which was covered in blooming blood-red roses and pure white lilies. in alternating triangles. A matching bridge was visible on the far side of the cross, and the short arm to their left had a golden cross standing at the tip. The lilies and roses extended to their right into an arched entrance.
Delilah's lips quirked as she spoke. "Well the floral symbolism couldn't be any more blatant if the gardener came down and hammered me around the head and shoulders with it. Cover me, Sis."
Colombe nodded and gestured, forming four circles of fire that began to spin around her off hand's wrist. "Got you covered, Del. Bonne chance!"
"Thanks, Sis." Delilah approached the bridge and carefully crossed it, every sense alert for danger. At the end she paused, knelt to examine the flowerbed in front of her, then stepped onto the moist dirt.
"Clear, Sis." Delilah then covered Colombe as the rapier crossed. Once the sisters stood there, Delilah proceeded to the point where the far bridge reached them and again examined the flowerbed.
"Nothing. We are ahead of them unless they just don't leave tracks." Delilah's smug satisfaction was self evident.
"Good." Colombe wiped sweat from her face after dismissing her spell and then drank from a canteen."Water, Del?"
Delilah nodded and flicked her wand away before taking the canteen in the empty hand. "This heat is brutal. With the trees and moat it is hard to believe that we are in the middle of the largest desert on earth until now. I have never been to the Sahara until now, and it is not what I expected."
"True, Del. With those heat shimmers I see, all we need is sand to create a dust devil. Not that I want one."
"Me either. Cave now, Sis?" Del handed the canteen back and then drew her wand again.
"Cave, I'll take point, Del." Colombe hefted her rapier and moved toward the dark entrance.
"Lumos!" Her blade burned a creamy dove-white, revealing that to either side of the entrance were carved lion waterspouts feeding the moat. Between them was a pair of great steel doors carved with a maiden on the left and a knight on the right, identical to the statues that the sisters had passed. No handle or lock was visible.
Colombe walked to them and pushed. "Won't budge and probably enchanted like you wouldn't believe. Any ideas, Sis?"
Delilah grinned as she walked to Colombe's side. "Actually yes."
Delilah gestured with her wand and an invisible drum and fiddle began to play. She then curtsied to the figures, and began to recite Orlando Furioso in the language of the codex that had started the quest.
"Le donne, i cavallier, l'arme, gli amori
Le cortesie, l'audaci imprese io canto;
Che furo al tempo, che passaro i Mori
D'Africa il mare, e in Francia nocquer tanto;
Seguendo l'ire, e i giovenil furori
D'Agramante lor Re, che si diè vanto
Di vendicar la morte di Troiano
Sopra Re Carlo Imperador Romano."
The doors silently swung open before the sisters revealing a broad stone staircase leading up. As they walked up, paired torch sconces flickered to life with magical flames as they approached each one.
Finally the stairs ended at another set of arched doors that swung open for them.
Delilah and Colombe looked at each other in the hushed stillness and then Delilah swept around in another circle. Her eyes lingered on the flickering torch-lit stairs leading down, but she said nothing as she continued her sweep.
Colombe nodded and stepped inside, then gave an awed whistle. Delilah joined her and gave her own soft cry of shock.
The room beyond was circular and carved out of the heart of the mountain. Massive monumental columns carved in the shape of a giant mourning face flanked by twin mourning knights held a dome up. At the apex of the dome, a pure white light shone from lantern of silver and crystal to illuminate the tomb.
In the center of the floor a gold engraved seal of Solomon surrounded a granite bier with rippling sparkling energies surrounding it. Two figures rested there with their heads pillowed on stone.
The woman to the left was clad in a bliaut dress of dark purple trimmed with ermine fur. Her ornately braided midnight black hair was covered with a pure white wimple surmounted with a silver coronet. Her hand which was adorned with a brilliant silver ring held an ivory wand to her chest. Her beautiful face was marble pale.
To the right a knight lay in his own repose with a shield with three roses and three lions at his feet. On his mail-clad breast lay an unsheathed shortsword. A short blond beard and mustache accentuated his boyish good looks as he in turn looked ready to stir from rest.
A carved inscription was chiseled in the stone bier at their feet.
ET HIC REQVIEM MORGAN OGIER BENEDICTVS QVI DIMISERIT SOMNVN TVRBARE QVIETEM PERPETUO FLERE
"My God, Sis." Delilah's voice was hushed and reverent.
"You said it, Del, you said it." Colombe swallowed at the sight before her. "We did it."
The Mountain of Flint, Sahara Desert
7 February 1942
Delilah turned in a full circle, flexing her healed left arm as she surveyed the island. Green grass neatly grew on a gently sloping incline of thirty meters between the cursed water of the moat to where suddenly a wall of flint rose into the endless sandstorm above. All was peaceful.
She didn't buy that promised peace for an instant.
There was nothing in sight, just a heat-shimmer from where the remains of the creatures that she and her sister had slain lay.
To her side Colombe made her own observation circuit, her steel rapier blade sharp and bright in her hand, although less keen than her eyes.
"You see anything Del?"
"Nothing, Sis. You?"
"Non. So, left or right?"
Delilah took a deep breath; flipping a mental coin as she did.
"Left. Let's go deosil, sunward. Also the grass is undisturbed. Keep alert."
"Oui. I'll take point, Sis." The Rapier nodded and headed to the left, with Delilah moving behind her, her eyes flickering in constant vigilance.
They had continued around the island (which Delilah noted was perfectly round and no doubt unnatural) for half an hour until they reached the point opposite their start. Both sisters paused as they saw that unlike the suspected perfect circle, the larger island was apparently a C shape, with a single cross-shaped smaller island in the gap.
A simple bridge of white marble spanned the gap between the land they were on and the cross, which was covered in blooming blood-red roses and pure white lilies. in alternating triangles. A matching bridge was visible on the far side of the cross, and the short arm to their left had a golden cross standing at the tip. The lilies and roses extended to their right into an arched entrance.
Delilah's lips quirked as she spoke. "Well the floral symbolism couldn't be any more blatant if the gardener came down and hammered me around the head and shoulders with it. Cover me, Sis."
Colombe nodded and gestured, forming four circles of fire that began to spin around her off hand's wrist. "Got you covered, Del. Bonne chance!"
"Thanks, Sis." Delilah approached the bridge and carefully crossed it, every sense alert for danger. At the end she paused, knelt to examine the flowerbed in front of her, then stepped onto the moist dirt.
"Clear, Sis." Delilah then covered Colombe as the rapier crossed. Once the sisters stood there, Delilah proceeded to the point where the far bridge reached them and again examined the flowerbed.
"Nothing. We are ahead of them unless they just don't leave tracks." Delilah's smug satisfaction was self evident.
"Good." Colombe wiped sweat from her face after dismissing her spell and then drank from a canteen."Water, Del?"
Delilah nodded and flicked her wand away before taking the canteen in the empty hand. "This heat is brutal. With the trees and moat it is hard to believe that we are in the middle of the largest desert on earth until now. I have never been to the Sahara until now, and it is not what I expected."
"True, Del. With those heat shimmers I see, all we need is sand to create a dust devil. Not that I want one."
"Me either. Cave now, Sis?" Del handed the canteen back and then drew her wand again.
"Cave, I'll take point, Del." Colombe hefted her rapier and moved toward the dark entrance.
"Lumos!" Her blade burned a creamy dove-white, revealing that to either side of the entrance were carved lion waterspouts feeding the moat. Between them was a pair of great steel doors carved with a maiden on the left and a knight on the right, identical to the statues that the sisters had passed. No handle or lock was visible.
Colombe walked to them and pushed. "Won't budge and probably enchanted like you wouldn't believe. Any ideas, Sis?"
Delilah grinned as she walked to Colombe's side. "Actually yes."
Delilah gestured with her wand and an invisible drum and fiddle began to play. She then curtsied to the figures, and began to recite Orlando Furioso in the language of the codex that had started the quest.
"Le donne, i cavallier, l'arme, gli amori
Le cortesie, l'audaci imprese io canto;
Che furo al tempo, che passaro i Mori
D'Africa il mare, e in Francia nocquer tanto;
Seguendo l'ire, e i giovenil furori
D'Agramante lor Re, che si diè vanto
Di vendicar la morte di Troiano
Sopra Re Carlo Imperador Romano."
The doors silently swung open before the sisters revealing a broad stone staircase leading up. As they walked up, paired torch sconces flickered to life with magical flames as they approached each one.
Finally the stairs ended at another set of arched doors that swung open for them.
Delilah and Colombe looked at each other in the hushed stillness and then Delilah swept around in another circle. Her eyes lingered on the flickering torch-lit stairs leading down, but she said nothing as she continued her sweep.
Colombe nodded and stepped inside, then gave an awed whistle. Delilah joined her and gave her own soft cry of shock.
The room beyond was circular and carved out of the heart of the mountain. Massive monumental columns carved in the shape of a giant mourning face flanked by twin mourning knights held a dome up. At the apex of the dome, a pure white light shone from lantern of silver and crystal to illuminate the tomb.
In the center of the floor a gold engraved seal of Solomon surrounded a granite bier with rippling sparkling energies surrounding it. Two figures rested there with their heads pillowed on stone.
The woman to the left was clad in a bliaut dress of dark purple trimmed with ermine fur. Her ornately braided midnight black hair was covered with a pure white wimple surmounted with a silver coronet. Her hand which was adorned with a brilliant silver ring held an ivory wand to her chest. Her beautiful face was marble pale.
To the right a knight lay in his own repose with a shield with three roses and three lions at his feet. On his mail-clad breast lay an unsheathed shortsword. A short blond beard and mustache accentuated his boyish good looks as he in turn looked ready to stir from rest.
A carved inscription was chiseled in the stone bier at their feet.
ET HIC REQVIEM MORGAN OGIER BENEDICTVS QVI DIMISERIT SOMNVN TVRBARE QVIETEM PERPETUO FLERE
"My God, Sis." Delilah's voice was hushed and reverent.
"You said it, Del, you said it." Colombe swallowed at the sight before her. "We did it."
