Chapter One – Letter from Ignatius

Reaching into the tattered old briefcase at his side, the comforting smell of well-oiled leather wafting up, Thomas pulled out the matt-finished envelope with the Papal crest in the top left hand corner.  The wax seal denoting the confidentiality of the contents was broken where he had previously read the letter.  It was from Cardinal Ignatius who, among other things, oversaw investigations into demonic phenomena, or as Thomas jokingly referred to them, ‘the dark ops’.  The Vatican City letterhead stood out boldly as he scanned the contents once more.

Thomas

 Once again your talents are needed to investigate possible demonic activity.  

We have received confirmation of an unexplained change of personality in an eleven year old boy by the name of Luke Masters.  He lives in Wales.  After a number of alarming incidents the boy’s mother sought assistance from the local priest, Father Daniel Morish, who believes the boy may be possessed.  His attempts to deal with the situation failed.  His observations were reported to the head of his diocese.  A preliminary investigation found there were indeed unexplained actions that could have satanic origins.  The results of the investigation were sent to the Vatican.  A copy is enclosed.

You are aware the Forces of Sheol have been more active lately and this has the hallmarks of Lucifer.  You are to conduct a thorough investigation into the Masters’ incident and report back only to me as soon as you have answers.  Should you believe the boy is possessed, take no any action until I dispatch an assistant.  Lucifer is gaining strength, and his demons with him.  Above all, discretion is paramount.  Word of this incident  reaching the public will only incite paranoia and copycat hoaxes.  The less our congregation knows of the dark side of religion, the better.

We are depending on you Thomas.  Take care and may God go with you.

 Sincerely

 Ignatius

As always, Ignatius was brief and to the point. On matters of the dark ops, Thomas had worked only to him for the past three years and found him to be thorough and not prone to exaggeration. Reading between the lines, he’d better be prepared for an exorcism.

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The Masters boy lived in an old inn that had once been a wayside stop for travelers on their way to Dover. The inn nestled in a shallow valley that had been carved out of a featureless plateau by a permanent stream. As Thomas’ vehicle descended below the level of the plateau, an unsettling feeling insinuated itself into his consciousness. There was nothing immediately evident, but the feeling invaded every fiber of his being.

He tensed as the vehicle rolled to a stop in front of the old inn. The front door was hanging off the top hinge while a broken chair lay to one side of a shattered window. Glass was scattered in the garden bed and on the path. Thomas cautiously climbed the steps to the front entrance. A low moan drifted from within the gloom. Peering inside he saw a dark-haired woman in her early thirties sitting on the floor holding her head. He noted the blood seeping through her fingers, leaving a scarlet trail down her forearm. Thomas quickly surveyed the area and warily approached. She looked up and started in fright.

‘Who are you?’ she asked, voice quavering.

‘Father Thomas Bartholomew, and I presume you’re Mrs Masters?’ The woman nodded as Thomas continued. ‘I was sent here by the church to investigate unexplained occurrences involving your son.’ He grabbed a towel lying across an indoor line. ‘Let me have a look at your injury.’ He gently moved her hand away and fresh blood trickled down the side of her face from a gash above her left eye. It was long, but not deep. He grabbed a smaller towel from the line and folded it into a pad. ‘Keep this on the cut and apply pressure. It should stop bleeding soon. I’ll find something to bind it.’

‘Thank you,’ replied Mrs Masters, her voice sounding a little calmer. ‘There are more bandages in the bottom draw in the kitchen.’ She indicated a room off to one side.

The kitchen was roomy with plenty of bench space and a large wood burning stove. A wide selection of pots hung from a rack suspended from the high ceiling. It was a well-organized kitchen with everything in its own place; that is, except for a number of broken dishes strewn across the floor. Thomas skirted around the broken crockery and went over to the set of four drawers down the left hand side of the double sink. Rummaging through the bottom one, he found a traveler’s medical kit. Inside was the bandage he sought. Back in the family room he dressed the woman’s injury. ‘What happened?’ he asked as he helped her to her feet.

As if her vision suddenly cleared, she looked wildly about. ‘My son Luke, where is he?’ She focused back on Thomas. ‘He went crazy just before you got here, yelling filthy words at me and said, “The enemy is come”. He started breaking things and threw the chair through the window. When I tried to calm him down he pushed me and I think I hit my head on the edge of the table. I don’t remember anything after that until you walked through the…’. She stopped and looked at the door.

‘Looks like he smashed the door in his hurry to get out’, said Thomas.

‘We’ve got to find him’, she said as she made to push past Thomas.

He reached out for her as she stumbled. ‘Might be best if you sit and take a moment to recover while I have a look about.’

She nodded as she sat down on a chair and held out her hand to Thomas. ‘I’m Jennifer Masters. Luke’s been very strange and angry these last couple of weeks. Our priest, Father Daniel, says he’s had some kind of shock and thinks he is someone else.’

‘That’s what I’ve been told. Is there any history of multiple personality disorder in your family?’

‘No, and up to just recently I thought Luke and I were coping very well since the death of his father.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ replied Thomas. ‘You’ve had a nasty shock. Rest for a couple more minutes while I check your bandage.’ When he’d finished he looked up. ‘I’ll go outside now and have a look about, but do you recall if there are any locations around here where strange things have been happening recently?’

She looked at him oddly. ‘What sort of strange things?’

‘I don’t want to alarm you or sound melodramatic, but signs of devil worship or witches covens?’

‘Devil worship? I don’t know if it is devil worship, but strange things occur around an abandoned farm at the other end of the valley. Inverted crosses and pentacles have been daubed on the walls of the farmhouse, a goat was gutted and hung from an old windmill and one of the sheds was burnt down. We put it down to the “lunies” as it always seems to happen around the full moon.’

‘If my hunch is correct, I believe that is where Luke has gone,’ replied the priest.

‘Why would he go there?’

‘Jennifer, you go to church and read the Bible?’ She nodded. ‘Most priests tend to talk about the positive side of religion and very little on the negative, and only in veiled speech. “Satan will tempt you. If you do not accept Jesus you will go to hell for eternity”, that sort of thing. However there is more to the dark side of religion than most people are aware, and the church tries to keep it that way. Unfortunately you have come in contact with one of the elements of the dark side.’ Not wishing to shock the woman too much, Thomas toned down his explanation from possession to influence. Apart from that, he had not seen the boy so could not conclusively say he was possessed. ‘From what you have told me, and what Father Daniel reported, Luke is somehow being influenced by one or more of those elements.’

Jennifer looked up and screamed, ‘Luke, no,’ as she attempted to shove Thomas to one side. Struck from behind, pain exploded in the priest’s shoulder as a maniacal laugh echoed through the old inn. Out of the corner of his eye Thomas saw a boy he assumed was Luke, start to swing a baseball bat. He threw himself sideways and winced as sharp pain stabbed into his shoulder. Something was either broken or badly damaged from the first blow. Jennifer grabbed Luke in a hug, crying for him to stop. He shrugged her aside with strength beyond that of an eleven year old boy.

The creature that looked like her son contorted its face in anger and spat at her. ‘You are pitiful, a weak specimen of human debris. Your son has gone to eternal damnation, as will you as soon as this misguided soldier of the “unholy” church has been dispatched to his fate.’ The demon turned back to Thomas, swinging the baseball bat menacingly. ‘Give yourself to me priest,’ the creature hissed, ’and you will share a place of honour serving my master. Force me take your soul and you will suffer eternal pain while serving me.’

‘You’ll find I’m not such an easy mark, demon.’ Thomas reached inside his jacket and pulled out a silver cross, held it in front of him and started reciting Psalm 27. ‘The Lord is my light and my salvation, whom should I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life, of whom shall I be afraid? When evil men advance against me to devour my flesh, when my enemies and my foes attack me, they will stumble and fall. Though an army besiege me, my heart will not fear; though war break out against me, even then will I be confident.’

The demon laughed. ‘Your piteous attempt at driving me out will not work. That poorly written piece of religious babble pains my ears, but little else.’ He lunged forward, swinging the bat. Thomas dodged sideways, however the bat glanced off his arm, knocking the cross out of his hand. The demon kept advancing. ‘What other tricks do you have up your sleeve priest?’

Thomas stumbled backwards and around furniture to keep out of range of the bat. There was something surreal about an eleven year old boy with a baseball bat advancing on a man twice his size. He reached inside his jacket again and brought out a phial.

‘Don’t tell me…’ The bat swung again, just missing Thomas and smashing a lamp. ‘…you have holy water to sprinkle on me. Already I am blessed to serve my master. I do not need you to reinforce that blessing.’ The bat swung again. Thomas ducked, but this time the demon let it go. Too late the priest realized his folly. He flung his arm up to protect his face as the end hit him in the ribs. He staggered and coughed, collapsing to the ground. Bringing his knees up to his chest to ease the pain as he tried to get his breath back, he watched the demon bend over and pick up the bat. Suddenly a broom head hit the demon on the side of the face. A trickle of blood appeared at the corner of his mouth.

‘Get up before he swings again,’ yelled Jennifer.

Grunting, Thomas painfully scrambled to his knees, looking about for the phial of holy water. The priest temporarily forgotten, the demon leaped over a sofa and grabbed the woman by her hair. ‘Bitch.’ He raised the bat for a killing blow. It started its murderous descent and suddenly burst into flames. A scream of hatred erupted from the lips of the possessed boy as he dropped the bat. He turned suddenly to look at the subject of his hatred. ‘Druid, you have interfered one too many times.’ Thomas and Jennifer looked with surprise at the man who stood before the possessed boy. The priest recognized his friend of several years, but a druid? No time to ponder, he watched the figure of the boy and the man Thomas knew as Ruben Bagot circled one another warily about the room.

‘Thomas, do you have any holy water?’ yelled Ruben.

‘It does no good,’ replied the priest.

‘Just give it to me.’ Ruben extended his arms and a ball of blue flame erupted from his fingertips crashing into the boy.

The stench of death and smoke filled the room as the boy collapsed to the floor. As the smoke cleared, a thin, man-like creature over two meters tall replaced the boy. Arms hung down to its knees with hands and feet that ended with talons. But for an orange glow from eye sockets set deep inside the head, no light or color reflected from the black surface of the creature. The head swiveled about on a long thin neck, projecting fear as its gaze settled on each individual.

‘Quickly Thomas,’ called Ruben, ‘the holy water’. The priest found the phial and grabbed it but as he did so the demon jumped at him. A chair flung by Ruben, slammed into the side of the demon knocking it away from its intended victim. It turned on its assailant with hatred and advanced on Ruben. The druid drew his arms back and thrust forward sending a shimmering ball of blue flame at the demon. The flame was parried to one side as the creature lunged at its tormentor. They went down in a tangled heap rolling over the floor, the demon finishing on top. Straddling Ruben, one taloned fist twisted the druid’s shirt front and held him down while the other rose to deliver a mortal blow. Thomas grabbed the broom previously used by Jennifer and swung it like a polo club, striking Lucifer’s agent in the side of the neck. A scream erupted from the demon’s mouth as Ruben writhed to unbalance the evil one. He kicked into the demon’s chest and rolled to one side. Unexpectedly agile for his appearance, Ruben sprang to his feet. Weaving his hands, he uttered words Thomas did not recognize. A shimmering blue circle appeared. The demon sprang, and as he did so, Ruben launched the circle. The creature collapsed to the floor, bound by rings of blue light, it struggled to break the bonds.

‘Now Thomas,’ yelled Ruben. ‘Sprinkle the holy water on the demon.’ The priest tugged the cork out of the phial and did as he was bid. There appeared to be no effect. The druid reached into a pocket of his trousers and pulled out a small, wooden cross. He leaned over the demon. It smiled a vulgar smile and hissed, ‘What do you hope to achieve with that?’

‘This,’ replied Ruben as he thrust the cross into the demon’s chest. A scream of pain tore from the creature’s lips as it grasped at the cross with one hand that had been pinioned only at the elbow. The demon’s fingers flared up in white flames. Ruben ground the cross into the chest of the evil one as he snarled, ‘Be gone Volnash.’ White flames and white smoke billowed out of every orifice of the creature’s body. No heat could be felt by Ruben or Thomas, but the demon writhed as though engulfed in the fires of hell.

The sudden quiet was eerie as the three of them looked at the pile of white ash that lay where the demon had stood. A low moan from the corner of the room broke the silence. Jennifer dashed across the room to the where the boy lay, not knowing what to expect. His eyes fluttered open. ‘Mum?’

‘Luke,’ she cried as she gathered him up in her arms. ‘I thought I’d lost you.’

‘What happened? I had a horrible nightmare about an ugly black creature fighting with me.’

‘It’s all over now,’ said Ruben. ‘Your nightmare is finished.’

Jennifer looked questioningly at the druid, and then Thomas who nodded his assurance before introducing himself and Ruben to the boy. She fussed over Luke, at the same time putting together a meal for everyone while Ruben tended to Thomas’s shoulder. He couldn’t find a break, but suspected a torn ligament and severe bruising. He put ice on it and made ready a support strap for when the ice treatment was finished.

With the meal over and Luke off to bed, the three adults looked at each other and breathed a sigh of relief.

Jennifer looked at Ruben. ‘Just who are you?’

Thomas raised one eyebrow in support of her question. ‘I’ve known you for over five years, but this is a side I’ve never seen before.’

‘And neither would you had Volnash not arrived on the scene. I’m a druid.’ Jennifer and Thomas exchanged looks. ‘You mean like Stonehenge? I thought druids were a bunch of old guys wandering around in cloaks muttering incantations and having orgies, but you did some amazing stuff, like magic,’ said Jennifer.

‘Not quite,’ replied Ruben. ‘More like a bunch of old guys who’ve been around a long time, done a lot of research and learned how to enhance the abilities that most people have.’

‘So with a lot of study I could learn to set baseball bats on fire,’ said Jennifer jokingly.

Ruben chuckled. ‘I’m afraid it takes more than that. It’s a lifetime commitment and different people have different strengths, but basically I’m the same as you. The important thing is that between the three of us we drove out the demon and Luke is OK.’

‘And I’ll be forever grateful for what you have both done. Do you think it will happen again?’

‘No,’ replied Ruben. ‘Volnash will never return to Earth. Banishment by the Cross of Jesus is final.’

‘The Cross of Jesus?’ asked Thomas.

Ruben reached inside his jacket and brought out the wooden cross. ‘There are only a few in existence. They’re fashioned from wood taken from the cross on which Jesus Christ was crucified. The cross was supposedly destroyed, however some of it was salvaged and small crosses were secretly carved and given to members of his family and close friends. The Vatican has one. You haven’t seen it?’

‘No,’ replied Thomas. ‘May I look at yours?’ Ruben handed it to him. Both Jennifer and he looked at it in awe. ‘How did you come to possess such a holy and priceless artifact?’

‘It was given to me as a gift some time ago by my mentor. It had been in his family for hundreds of years. I would ask that you keep your knowledge about its existence, and what I’ve done, to yourself. I’m an old man and don’t wish to sell it or defend my right to own something which came to me legally. Eventually it may end up in the public eye in some museum, but for now I still have uses for it, as you have just witnessed.’

‘How is it you arrived just in the nick of time?’ asked Thomas.

‘Sheer coincidence! Had I known you were on this case I would’ve contacted you before coming here. I’d been pursuing Volnash for some time when I heard about Luke. My visit was to investigate the reports. I was not totally prepared for what I discovered. It was fortunate you had holy water with you. I normally carry some, but on this occasion I found the bottle I stored in my backpack was cracked.’

‘Volnash just laughed when I threatened him with holy water,’ said Thomas.

‘Volnash is a powerful demon, so the holy water on its own, or with any other cross, was not a threat. However he had not reckoned on the power of the Cross of Jesus.’

After checking Luke again the next morning, Ruben and Thomas left the Masters’ home and drove their own vehicles back to London. Prior to leaving, they arranged to meet the next day at the Central Repository of Genealogical Records coffee shop.

On his return journey Thomas thought about how he came to meet Ruben and how he had known him for so long, but not known him; how their common interest and research into religion had forged a strong friendship.

Much of Thomas’ research over the last five years had been investigating the Forces of Sheol. As a soldier of the church he had been exposed to many creatures of evil and several times had fought for his life. Not your typical priest, Thomas was thankful he had played state rugby during his university days and had taken up tae kwon do, expanding his martial arts expertise into other disciplines as he became more proficient.

Even though as a boy Thomas regularly attended church with his parents, he had no yearn to pursue life in the cloth. Religion did not come to the fore until he was at university studying politics and literature. There he met students of other cultures and religions and was fascinated by the differences, and also the similarities. Mainstream religions encouraged similar philosophies with regard to their basic tenets. Christianity is based on the Ten Commandments; Islam has the Prohibitions to guide the faithful in their worship, while Buddhists follow their Karmic Precepts to Enlightenment. Religion, at least the study of religion, became a passion. He believed the best way to learn more was through a religious study course so he enrolled at the Catholic Theological College in Victoria and gained a degree in theology. His interest was more in the dark side of religion, but eventually he was persuaded by peers and lecturers to progress further and enter the Catholic priesthood. Time proved life in a local parish was not what Thomas sought. He found his talents more suited to special projects. He became a soldier of the church; his missions were almost invariably to investigate religious occurrences that were “non-normal”.

Occasionally he visited the Vatican for special assignments or research into a project assigned to him by the church hierarchy. While there Thomas took advantage of any spare time to undertake his own study. It was on one such visit to the library that he met a slightly eccentric character in the form of Ruben Bagot. They had a common interest researching different religions. Friendship grew out of that first meeting and they met many times over the next few of years as their paths crossed during Thomas’ investigations or research in various parts of the world. The coffee shop at the Central Repository of Genealogical Records in London was their most favored meeting spot to discuss findings of their latest research projects. As agreed, they met there the morning after the Masters’ incident.

Ruben was already seated at his preferred table by the window in a secluded corner of the coffee shop. As Thomas approached, the waitress talking to Ruben looked at Thomas, smiled and walked away. ‘Thomas,’ nodded Ruben in greeting. ‘I took the liberty of ordering your usual.’

‘Am I such a creature of habit that I always order the same thing when I come to this café?’ replied Thomas teasingly.

‘When it comes to fine coffee, I know you are a bit fussy. I can always cancel the order,’ he grinned back.

‘No, no, I don’t want you to go to any more trouble on my account,’ laughed Thomas as he sat down, enjoying the thrust and parry of their banter, as only good friends can. The two continued their conversation until the waitress arrived with their coffee. They paused until she was done.

Thomas continued, ‘….and for the past five years I’ve thought of you as a man of independent means who had a keen interest in all things religious.’

‘And that I have,’ replied Ruben.

‘That, and much more it would seem,’ declared Thomas. ‘I’ve read a great deal on the mystic arts, but this is the first tangible evidence of “magical powers” I have witnessed.’

‘I wouldn’t call them “magical powers”. It’s more like an ability to harness natural forces. Druids are very close to nature and have lived as a civilized order far longer than modern historians realize.’

Thomas studied Ruben for a moment, not knowing what to expect. Ruben responded to the unasked question, ‘300,000 years.’

Looking incredulously at the man sitting opposite him, Thomas exhaled slowly, ‘That’s not possible. Written history only goes back about 6,000 years, and cave paintings,’ he shrugged, ‘maybe 70,000 years. Modern man, as we know it, has existed for about 130,000 years but you’re telling me Druids have been around 170,000 years longer?’

‘Yes, but you’re referring to conventional records and what archeologists have discovered to date. Druid records go back much further. During that time we studied naturally occurring forces and learned to control many of them. Our knowledge and abilities have grown through controlled breeding, although it is still somewhat haphazard, and detailed record keeping. Today’s “civilized” man is just beginning to realize the untapped power of the mind. Druids have been increasing their mind capabilities for about 200,000 years.’

‘Is that how you ignited the baseball bat?’ prompted Thomas.

‘Yes.’

‘What else can druids do?’

‘From the Bible; how do you think Daniel survived the boiling oil, or the walls of Jericho were brought down?’

‘Miracles from God,’ replied Thomas emphatically.

‘Maybe, but I happen to know there was a little assistance from some of my ancestors.’

‘You’re not saying that the miracles described in the Bible were performed by druids?’

‘Some. I believe in an almighty being; God if you wish; and that Jesus Christ did walk this Earth, but I interpret some Biblical events differently to you.’

‘In my religion that is blasphemous.’

‘Why do you say that?’ asked Ruben. ‘I know you don’t accept everything in the Bible literally. All I am saying is that some miracles had Druidic assistance.’

‘If I accept what you say, then all that I believe about religion is in question.’

Ruben responded with a raised eyebrow. ‘Not really. Since I’ve known you I’ve come to trust and respect your capabilities. You’ve seen and discovered more about creatures of power than most theologians in this world. You’ve fought with a demon, exorcised spirits from dwellings, and no doubt accept the witches described in the Bible.’

Thomas nodded in response.

Ruben continued. ‘All these creatures are the soldiers of Sheol and have paranormal abilities. The forces of good have their soldiers too, the prophets, Jesus Christ, his disciples, Muhammad, Buddha. If they exist then isn’t it feasible that another force for the good of mankind could also exist?’

‘I guess I cannot deny your logic,’ replied Thomas, ‘but the druids I’ve met ranged from the dedicated to the charlatans, however they certainly didn’t exhibit any supernatural abilities.’

‘To my knowledge, you have only met one true druid.’

Thomas raised one eyebrow. ‘How would you know that? Ruben remained silent. Understanding dawned on the priest’s face. ‘Where are the other druids?’

‘I believe I am the last of my kind.’

‘If druids were so advanced and had enhanced abilities, why are you the last?’

Ruben looked sadly out the window. ‘Although we had a controlled breeding program, the potential for a person to become a druid is haphazard. Druids are always male but the female carries the gene. Mating between a female with the gene and a male of a druid line can produce the right offspring to continue the line. However, not every male resulting from the right bloodlines has the potential to become a druid. Consequently some are born without their potential being realized. Of those who attained their potential, quite a few died through internal jealousies within the order. But the real destruction started about three and a half thousand years ago with the rise of organized armies. Emperors, kings, pharaohs wanted total control of their subjects and used soldiers to get it. Many druids would not be ruled by man and died vainly defending their independence. As much power as some of them had, they were no match for well-disciplined armies and cunning assassins striking in the middle of the night. More died than were trained. The period of the inquisitions killed many. My last contact with a fellow druid was some years ago. At the time of ordination of the last druid, Robert James, we numbered thirteen. Since then I know some have died of old age while others met untimely deaths. I have not been able to account for all thirteen. When last I saw Robert he was heading to Asia in search of lost brothers. I headed for South America. We agreed to remain in contact by mail using a series of post office boxes, forwarding mail as we moved to different locations. Mail stopped about three years later. I went to his last known address in Scotland but the trail stopped there. I could find no other trace of him. Eventually I went back to England and moped around for a few years before waking up to myself. The world was changing and more tolerant of fringe religious orders. By being discreet I thought to find and train another acolyte while continuing my search for sign of other druids. This led me to a number of lines that could produce a boy with the potential to become a druid. One line just happens to be in your home country of Australia.’

‘Where?’

‘Tasmania’.

Thomas studied his coffee. Could he believe what he had just been told? Demons and witches he believed; but the existence of druids with abilities far in excess of normal people, one opposite him now, and one possibly living in Tasmania? ‘What you tell me is beyond anything I imagined. What I saw you do in our fight with Volnash leaves me to at least be open to what you are telling me; but an advanced civilization that has existed for hundreds of thousands of years? I would need to see more tangible evidence. And why are you telling me this now? Why not in our earlier discussions?’

‘The timing was not right for you to be open to what I am about to reveal to you. At the risk of sounding melodramatic, we are on the brink of a threat of Biblical proportions and I need allies I can trust. We share a common cause.’

Thomas looked searchingly at Ruben. ‘What common cause?’

Ruben leaned forward and spoke quietly. ‘I have discovered a scroll dating back 3,000 years which foretold seven events. Four have come to pass; the rise of Alexander the Great, the spread of the Roman Empire under Julius Caesar, the coming of Christ and the rule of Genghis Khan. According to the scroll, all happened within ten years of prediction. Two events were foretold but did not come to fruition, quite; the domination of the world by Napoleon Bonaparte and the same goal by Adolph Hitler. Both failed due to military tactical errors, but significantly, they did start when predicted. This leads to our common goal, the seventh prediction. There will rise another world conqueror sometime in the next five to fifteen years. He will be like no other. Terror and suffering will be his hallmark and he will reign for 1,000 years. Sound familiar?’

‘Partially; Jesus Christ who will return and reign for 1,000 years,’ responded Thomas, ‘but his reign will not bring terror and suffering, at least not to those who accept him.’

‘Suppose it wasn’t Jesus Christ?’

‘But no one else can live for 1,000 years….unless? The Forces of Sheol have been very active of late, more so than at any other time in history. Could one of the fallen ones, perhaps Lucifer, be attempting to change predictions from the Book of the Apocalypse?’

‘My initial thought as well, however there is one flaw in your reasoning. How long did the Biblical Methuselah live?’

‘Supposedly 969 years; but there is still much debate on how those years were calculated. There were other Biblical characters who lived in excess of 900 years as well.’

‘Suppose I told you I was over 800 years old.’

Thomas looked at Ruben skeptically. ‘You have a pact with God do you? People stopped living long lives after the Great Flood. God decreed they would become “more mortal”. Noah was probably the last to live in excess of 500 years. Were it not for the events of the last couple of days I would dismiss your comment as the ramblings from an eccentric suffering delusions about the Bible. Now I don’t think that applies to you so I’m at a loss what to think?’

‘Thanks for your vote of confidence,’ grinned Ruben. ‘No I don’t have a pact with God, but let’s assume what I say is true. Members of my order have lived in excess of 1500 years. Barring any accidents, I expect to live for at least another 700 years. ‘ Ruben could see Thomas was about to protest. ‘Before you say anything, you may not believe everything I tell you, but you do accept that I have unusual abilities?’ Thomas nodded. ‘Good, now stay with me on this! I’ve trained five druids over the past 800 years, but they have all since met untimely deaths. I have searched the planet for over a hundred years for sign of other druids but each lead has so far resulted in a dead end. I believed I was the last of my kind. That was until I found the scroll.’

‘If I’m following your train of thought correctly,’ offered Thomas, ‘you’re saying that there could be another druid who is getting ready to use his powers to take over the world.’

‘Yes and no. I don’t believe one druid, or even ten druids have sufficient power to dominate the planet in these modern times with the weapons and technology now available to man. Lucifer has the capability, however he is forbidden to intervene personally and take over. He may attempt to break that covenant, but not without a lot of preparation. Most likely he will operate through an agent in the form of a powerful demon or druid. With nothing concrete to go on, my gut feeling is that Lucifer has somehow won over a druid, whose existence I am unaware of, and is using him to change the course of the future. Lucifer would then ascend to the throne once the whole planet was subjugated.’

‘That’s a big call.’

‘I’ve done a lot of research and been exposed to many of Lucifer’s schemes so I can make predictions with some confidence.’

‘Putting aside my reservations, if I accept what you say, 800 years is a lot of research. I’d like to see some of your notes and papers, and maybe even your druid records?’

‘Much of what I have would be of interest to you, druid records may be difficult, but you’ll understand if you join me when I head back to Tasmania.’

‘Tasmania?’ responded the surprised priest. ‘I remember you mentioned a possible druid line living there. I didn’t realize you had actually visited Tasmania previously.’

‘Yes.’

‘You’ve never mentioned this before, even though I live in Sydney?’

‘There was no need until now. I have a small property on the outskirts of Hobart where I often spend time researching possible druid lines, going through books and documents I have stored there. Nearby is also the family I mentioned that appears to be of a druid line. They have a son who is not quite old enough for me to assess his capabilities so I will observe him for a little while longer. If he has potential I will take him under my wing. Besides, my property suits me well as it is quiet and in a secluded part of the world where I can carry out my research uninterrupted. Much of my work is stored there.’

‘How long have you had the property?’

‘About fifteen years. I’ll be there in a month’s time. Come and visit. You’ll find my research quite detailed and the unfolding events most interesting.’