She told them the story of her encounter at the farm and all that happened afterwards as they rode the elevator up and made their way back along the long corridor. The incident with the wolves seemed to register with Paul. He recalled his own harrowing encounter with a wolf outside the hidden archive when he had fallen through the Well of Souls and was lost in the land of the Assassins.
Robert was amazed at how the hieroglyphics had so clearly sketched out the imperatives in that last wild scene where Dodo and his men came upon the bishop.
“A loose twine!” he said, amazed. “So it had nothing to do with a corral in the Arab camp, or even the rein on that Arabian, eh?”
“Well…” Maeve hesitated a moment. “Now that you mention it, thank God that rein snapped when it did. It loosened the pressure on the horse’s mouth and stopped him from rearing even more at a critical moment. I was able to get him down and into a run, and that saved me. I owe that horse my life a few times over.”
Robert was suddenly energized, and was the first to rush to a History Module when they reached the lab, eager to see if anything had changed.
“Believe me,” said Maeve. “It was hell to stand there and watch that. I really don’t know if I could do that again.”
“Well, I know its small consolation, “ said Paul, “but Robert and I are grateful we won’t have to shift in and murder Lambert ourselves!”
“No, I made certain someone else got the job,” she said flippantly, but he could see she was still deeply troubled.
Paul gave her a reassuring touch on her shoulder. “You were the only one who could have done it, Maeve. Just riding the damn horses would have been beyond any of the rest of us. You did what you had to do, in the heat of the moment and with great clarity, in spite of how frightening it must have been. Well done!” he finished with a smile.
Nordhausen shouted at them from the History Module. “Get over here, people! We’ve got variations!”
The Golems were churning and sifting and sampling the Meridians, and Robert was the first to see that the colors were already changing. “Look,” he pointed. These years are all turning from yellow to green now.”
Paul looked and saw the colors changing all through the cells marking the early 8th century. The year 705 was now a solid green, as were all the years after until the line reached the year 714. There it remained stubbornly amber. “That’s odd,” he said. “Kelly, should we give this more time?”
“I’d love to say we had plenty to give,” said Kelly, but we’ve got about ninety minutes fuel left on the number three generator. Our closer got us through the eighth inning here, but I’m not sure he can get us those last three outs.” He was at their side, now, still holding Maeve’s hand. “What’s the problem?”
“We’re seeing no changes beyond this year,” said Paul. “714… Wasn’t that the year Pippin dies?”
“It’s also the year Grimwald was supposed to have been killed at Lambert’s chapel,” said Maeve.
“Right,” said Paul. “But the variations seem stuck on that point in the continuum. Lambert’s death looks like it was not entirely decisive.”
“He wasn’t killed at the villa!” Robert pointed excitedly. “He was killed at the ferry by the river this time. The Bishop Hubert was the one who ordered the chapel to be built at the site of Lambert’s death, and that chapel became the center of the future city of Liège. Has it moved?”
Paul called up a map from the Golem data. “Hard to tell when you look at the city in contemporary times,” he said.
“No,” said Maeve. “I was there. The ferry site was not that far from Lambert’s villa at Leodium. It would not have affected the location of the city that much, but it may have had some impact on the assassination of Grimwald.”
“Yes,” said Robert. “He dies in the chapel, and it must have been built at the ferry site now, not the villa.”
“Doesn’t sound like much of a difference,” said Paul.
“Oh, but it is,” Robert argued. “The site of Lambert’s death was the location where he left this earthly existence and his soul ascended into heaven. The place of a martyr’s death was very important considering the future development of the cult to his sainthood.”
“Well, he may be correct,” said Kelly, “Because I scrolled forward to check the impact of Maeve’s intervention on the outcome of Tours, and Abdul Rahman and his Saracen legions are still victorious…”
There was a thick silence after that. The weariness of the hour and the stress of all they had been through weighed heavily on them. Paul looked fitfully at the time, rubbing the strain from the back of his neck.
“Crap,” he said. “Speaking of horses, this one isn’t dead yet. We need to give it another kick! Tell me, Kelly, who was leading the Franks at the battle as the Golems read it now?”
“Our old friend Grimwald,” said Kelly.
“But we restored the place of his death when we assured his martyrdom,” said Maeve.
“Yes, but we moved it,” said Paul. “It may not sound like much but it’s all we have to go on now.”
“I don’t see how a few miles difference would matter,” said Robert. “He was going to visit the shrine, in one location or another. That’s where he was to be killed.”
“There’s an infinity of possibilities at work now,” said Paul frustrated. “Anything could have happened to prevent Grimwald’s death, but we don’t seem to have a single clue in the history sources at our disposal here.”
“Could the Assassins still be operating?” Robert suggested with a question. “It could be that they figured a way to prevent the death of Grimwald, or at least to preserve their earlier intervention to spare the man. With him alive, Plectrude’s side of the family must have prevailed in the power struggle for succession. Look here…”
He called up some supporting documentation, using his recollection of the history to search for just the right documents. “I read a good PhD thesis on this,” he said. “Let’s have a look at some of Bishop Lambert’s hagiographers. It seems that there was a raft of vengeance that fell upon Dodo and his followers for the murder of Lambert. Look at this passage. The bishop is said to have haunted Dodo and his cohorts in the years after the bishop’s death. This is supposed to be Lambert’s spirit speaking…”
He began reading a translation of the chronicle: “we have harassed our friend Dodo and his companions. It is time, that they should pay their debt, and receive their just and deserved reward… Then Dodo, who was the first and leader in the death of the bishop, was struck by divine vengeance. After all his hidden parts were made rotten and stinking they were cast forth through his mouth, and his unhappy and wicked present life ended… Others were tormented by demons, wailing and crying out in the voices of diverse kinds… and within the year only a few from among them remained, those who were in league and conspired to bring about the death of the Saint.”
“Sounds like Dodo was poisoned,” said Maeve. “Well one of the conspirators is still alive and well,” she said uneasily, obviously referring to herself.
“Someone was taking out all the remaining opposition in Alpaida’s side of the family,” said Paul, images of the Godfather returning to his mind. “They got to Dodo and his followers, eliminating Alpaida’s brother, and they must have also found a way to stop Grimwald’s assassination.”
A loud warning claxon went off, and Kelly jumped with a start. He saw nothing at the Golem Alert Station, but the breaching indicators were all lit up again.
“Didn’t I close that breach effectively?” he said aloud. “Damn it! What the hell’s going on? I’ve got a residual signature in the matter stream!”