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“The man drew back his hood and revealed an old face, worn with the wrinkles of time. His beard and hair were white like snow. But his eyes were full of peace. I knew he meant no ill will.”

Baldwin had been sucked into the story and leaned in close. “What did you do?”

“I lowered my sword and asked him what he wanted. The man told me he had a gift for me, and me alone. I asked what kind of gift, but he wouldn’t answer. He merely stepped forward and produced a map from an inner pocket of his robe.”

“A map?”

Godfrey nodded. “Yes. I asked what the map led to, what area it depicted, but he would not answer. When I took a moment to look over the map again, the man was gone, as if the forest had consumed him. I mounted my horse and looked everywhere, but the old man was nowhere to be found. He’d vanished.”

“What did you do?”

Godfrey’s lungs wheezed like he might cough again, but the fits didn’t return. “I deciphered the map and used it to find something incredible, something that helped me during the Crusades. Without it, we would have surely lost.”

The buildup was tugging at Baldwin’s curiosity. “What is it?”

“A sword. But not just any sword. It is a sword that commands incredible power. For a time, the one who wields it cannot be destroyed.”

“For a time?”

“That power fades, remember? It needs to be returned to its home until the world needs another leader to rise against evil. That is the task I ask of you, my brother. You must return the sword to its home. Keep it hidden. Keep it safe. You must tell no other human about this. If evil were to find it, the world as we know it would end.”

“But how could evil use it if the power fades?”

Godfrey forced a smile across his lips. “When it is returned to its home, the power renews itself. Then the sword becomes the ultimate weapon once more. Whoever wields it will be unstoppable.”

“Where do I take it?”

Godfrey raised his hand to a golden necklace clinging to his chest. It was a circle, surrounded by five half circles. The jewelry gave the appearance of a golden sun. Godfrey ripped it from his neck and handed it to his brother.

Baldwin stared at the object in his palm as Godfrey’s cold, clammy fingers pulled away.

“The location… is inside. Remember, Brother… you must never tell a soul. Only God can reveal the location to His sword. He chooses who will wield it next, not you or I.”

Godfrey’s breaths came quicker. His face tightened, and Baldwin knew his brother was on death’s doorstep.

“The sword, Brother. Where is it?”

“It is safe, in a place only you would know where to look. When we were children, remember the trick I played on you with your favorite toy?”

A tear formed in the corner of Baldwin’s eye. He remembered the event well. Somehow, Godfrey had taken his favorite toy sword and put it in his own scabbard. Wearing it in plain sight, Baldwin never suspected. After allowing his younger brother to search the house for the faux weapon, Godfrey gave away the hiding place by tapping his finger on the hilt.

Baldwin stood up straight and glanced down at the weapon. Then he looked back to his brother. In the rush to get to his brother’s side, he’d not even noticed the difference.

Godfrey gave a weak nod. “It was the safest place for me to put it, Brother. Take it back to where it belongs. That is my last request for you.”

Suddenly, Godfrey’s body tensed. His lungs gurgled inside his chest. He shook violently for several seconds, fighting death’s grip as long as he could. Then, as suddenly as it began, the fit ended, and Godfrey’s eyes settled on a random spot on the ceiling.

Baldwin stared at him for a second and then reached out his hand. He took Godfrey’s in his own and held it tight. The skin was cold, like the stone of a wine cellar back in their homeland.

“Brother?” he said.

There was no response.

Baldwin leaned in and listened to Godfrey’s chest. It was deathly silent.

He straightened up, fighting back the tears. “Nurse!” he yelled.

People flooded the room once more. Wailing soon commenced. The military leaders paid their respects and then immediately began the discussion concerning Godfrey’s successor.

Baldwin heard his name more than once, but he didn’t care about that at the moment. He had a mission to complete, the last request of his brother.

He stepped out of the room and wandered down the hall until he found an empty room on the right. It was nothing more than a simple cell, a place where one of the maids slept. He stole a quick glance down both directions of the corridor and then slipped inside, closing the door behind.

He stared down at the sword in the scabbard. How it had gone unnoticed to him was still a mystery. In hindsight, he had never given much thought to putting on his belt and scabbard. It had become second nature, an unconscious action in a multitude of routine things he did every day.

Why would he have noticed?

Now, as he stared down at the hilt, he could tell the difference. The silvery metal handle was shinier than his own weapon. The thing looked as if it had never seen the wear and tear of battle.

With a twinge of fear in his heart, he wrapped his fingers around the handle and eased the blade out of its housing. Remarkably, the edges were still perfect, and the steel still gleamed as if it had just come out of the smith’s polish.

Baldwin held the sword at waist level and noticed something etched into the blade just above the hand guard. His eyes narrowed with curiosity, and he raised the weapon so he could read the lettering.

There were three lines, one in Hebrew, one in Greek and one in Latin. The first two were languages Baldwin didn’t speak. He had a feeling they all said the same thing. His eyes widened as he read the last line in Latin.

Caliburnus.

Chapter 1

BELLEVAUX, FRANCE

Tommy’s wide eyes stared unblinking into the gaping hole in the rock. His team from the International Archaeological Agency had been working alongside teams from all over the world to uncover centuries-old ruins, buried just a few hundred yards from an eleventh-century castle, or what was left of it. The location was perched atop a steep mountain. It was framed by picturesque views of the Lac de Vallon and the surrounding hillsides covered in green coniferous trees.

Their painstaking efforts had resulted in not only the discovery of structures that predated the castle but dozens of artifacts including pottery, glassware, and remnants of weapons. They’d also found a section of rock in the basement of the ruins that had been carved out by human hands. Inside was a stone sarcophagus.

Never had Tommy expected to find anything like this in an historically remote location. Sure, he’d hoped there would be some artifacts or relics on site, but to find an actual sarcophagus was beyond anyone’s wildest dreams.

The team of workers cleared a path and set up a series of lights inside so Tommy and his assistants could see more easily. He moved down the temporary wooden steps onto the lower landing, followed closely by three others. Two were men from Oxford. A third was a female anthropologist from Switzerland.

The buzz grew quickly and soon a daily crowd of onlookers arrived outside the roped area surrounding the site.

Tommy wasn’t accustomed to people watching as he and his team did their work. He preferred to take care of things in secret. This project, however, wasn’t his baby. Most of them weren’t, although the people who brought in his team typically let them operate however they wanted.

Cameras flashed around the four as they entered the floodlights’ pale glow coming from the corners of the cave. Only a few people from the media had come to cover the story. The number didn’t matter. What mattered was the discovery itself.