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Publié par | Balboa Press |
Date de parution | 04 octobre 2022 |
Nombre de lectures | 0 |
EAN13 | 9798765230794 |
Langue | English |
Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0400€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.
Extrait
A KNIGHT’S TIME SERIES
BOOK ONE: BY FAITH WE LIVE
D. S. DEMAREE AND S. E. WILLBANKS
Copyright © 2022 D. S. Demaree and S. E. Willbanks.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Balboa Press
A Division of Hay House
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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
The author of this book does not dispense medical advice or prescribe the use of any technique as a form of treatment for physical, emotional, or medical problems without the advice of a physician, either directly or indirectly. The intent of the author is only to offer information of a general nature to help you in your quest for emotional and spiritual well-being. In the event you use any of the information in this book for yourself, which is your constitutional right, the author and the publisher assume no responsibility for your actions.
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.
ISBN: 979-8-7652-3078-7 (sc)
ISBN: 979-8-7652-3080-0 (hc)
ISBN: 979-8-7652-3079-4 (e)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2022912050
Balboa Press rev. date: 09/15/2022
CONTENTS
Prologue
Chapter 1 The Father
Chapter 2 Mother and Sons
Chapter 3 Knights to Be
Chapter 4 Seeking The Divine Feminine
Chapter 5 Resurrection
Chapter 6 The Journey Begins
Chapter 7 The Voyage
Chapter 8 Starburst
Chapter 9 Friends, Fantasies and Rough Seas
Chapter 10 The Final Ascent
Chapter 11 Dark Knight of the Soul
Chapter 12 Secret Assignment
Chapter 13 New Truths
Epilogue
PROLOGUE
The demon stared at the three boys sleeping in the moonlit room. Well-built, strong and handsome boys, he thought. The youngest interested him the most, so sensitive, honest, trusting and innocent, devoted, of course, to Jesus, the Virgin and the disciple Mary Magdalene. Unfortunately, that protective tutor from India had told the young one about Buddha and Krishna. Soon the boy would travel to the land of wars and also learn about Mohammad. All enemies of the demon. But the creature chuckled. Already he’d slipped into the boy’s dreams and encouraged thoughts of doubt and darkness. It was easy. The malignant spirit had long ago inserted himself in the mind of the boy’s father. The father had unknowingly transferred his memories of horror and sacrifice from the crusade into his sons. The youngest would suffer, the demon thought, from my mind games. He would take me from his thoughts into his reality. Then, he would martyr himself and sacrifice his soul.
As the young boy turned in his bed he saw something dark flit across the wall. He sucked in his breath and lay still. If he didn’t breathe, the thing wouldn’t notice him. He squeezed his eyes shut then peeped through the narrow slits. The blackness was there, in the upper corner just above his sleeping brother’s bed. Red flaming eyes stared at the boy. Watching.
The wall dissolved into a deep, dark pit behind the colorless creature. The boy could hear screams, pleas and threats inside his head. He knew they were coming from the blackness. A dark world was there. He knew it. He could smell something foul coming from it. The horror beckoned with one long, bony finger. His brother turned over catching the shadow’s attention. His other brother coughed and the demon flew toward him. He was going to devour him! The boy shouted “No!” waking his two older brothers.
In the bright sunlight of the morning they made fun of his dream. But he knew it was real and when he grew up he would find the demon.
And kill it.
CHAPTER ONE
THE FATHER
1119 A.D.
Marets, France
The tall, well-built man, looking every inch the noble that he was, watched from a distance, as his gamekeeper patiently answered the three boys’ questions. He nodded in silent agreement, as the keeper carefully showed them how to set the new, improved trap. Impulsively, the youngest boy grabbed a stick and snapped the trap, making the keeper frown and the father smile. It was typical of Baldwin, the youngest and most softhearted of the trio.
Armand DesMarets scratched his graying beard as he contemplated his intelligent and inquisitive offspring. His more serious and studious first son, Reginald, would never think of interrupting a lesson. He would try to figure out how much profit he could get for the trapped creature. His second son, Goswin, might try to take the trap apart after the lesson or see if any of the parts would float.
All three boys—men now, their father realized—were more educated than he’d been at their age. They were also more curious and well trained in weaponry. Each was creative in his own way. Reginald spent hours designing buildings and weapons and then figuring the cost of each. Goswin loved floating the green glass bottles, used for bottling their vineyard’s bounty, to see how far they’d go. And Baldwin was excellent at sketching, painting, and etching out designs in metal. He could create very lifelike portraits. All three asked many questions, which Armand knew was a sign of intelligence. At the moment, the three were excitedly discussing a “better way” to catch an animal.
“A deep hole is what we need,” Reginald advised. “One deep enough where a deer, for instance, could fall in but not get out.”
“But deer can jump high and almost straight up,” Goswin countered.
“Plus, we just can’t have a hole along a path that a man might accidently fall into, or a woman or child,” Baldwin said thoughtfully.
“That’s why,” Goswin cut in, “we need it near the lake. Then I can make a channel into the hole and run water into it, drowning the thing.”
Baldwin made a face as Reginald said, “Cruel but effective. How would you do it?”
As the father listened to the boys’ ideas, a woman with long, brown braids walked up beside Armand and put her arm inside his. She was wearing a modest but finely woven linen dress, with detailed colorful embroidery, a matching beige cloak, hemmed in a design to match the dress and a kerchief as a headdress.
“Why must they always learn such things Armand when the gamekeeper can do it for them?”
Armand smiled down at his lovely wife, Angelica. Although they were just a few years apart in age, his world-weary, lined face, perpetually tanned skin, and graying hair made him look, at least, twenty years older. “Knowing how to catch game fed my hungry belly more times than I care to remember on the march to Jerusalem. The more they know how to survive on their own, the better. Plus, they like to design traps. It amuses them, even when Baldwin sometimes lets the poor, entangled creatures go.”
“But Armand,” she countered, “you had your servants with you. Surely they did those things.”
He patted her hand and looked into the distance. He frowned and a shadow of sadness crossed his face. “Where are they now, my dear? Not with us, where they should be.”
“No Armand, but in a greater place. They died serving our Lord. And you. What greater service is there?”
“If I’d died in the service of our Lord, or to be exact, Pope Urban the Second, we would not be the proud parents of three boys, who are about to be men.” He kicked at a stone, sending it flying.
“Shame Armand! The Pope does God’s work.”
“The Pope does …” but he stopped. His wife was too devout a Catholic to understand his exact opinion of Pope Urban II or of the religious men who took his place. In 1095, the pontiff influenced thousands of men, women, and children to leave their homes, travel to the Holy City and take it back from Muslim rule.
For that, they were guaranteed a place in heaven. If they didn’t sacrifice themselves and regain Jerusalem from the infidels, they would go to hell. Armand had been in Clermont, France and heard Urban’s rousing speech and the crowd’s reaction. There’d been a collective gasp when the Pope had promised absolution and remission of sins for all who died in the service of Lord Jesus.
When he left for the crusade with his fellow noblemen, Armand thought there was only one true religion and way to worship and live. Everything in the Bible was true, and the Pope was God’s authority on earth. He was proud to do God’s will, kill the Saracens, and take Jerusalem from the infidels. At the age of twenty, Armand left his parent’s estate, enthusiastically joined the other nobility and took part in the battles along the way, to free the Holy City.
It was a three-year campaign, where peasants and nobles alike killed non-believers in the name of God. Muslims, Jews, and even Christians who looked foreign to the rampaging mob of peasants were slaughtered on sight. Only the nobility, who’d organized and left weeks after the peasants, showed order among the troops. They killed and confiscated lands for themselves, eventually making them all the richer.
Upon arrival in the blessed city itself after a seven-week, bloody siege, he’d followed his command