Pursuit of the Patriarchs

Chapter 30

There was no call from Mr. Burgess, but Jason confirmed he'd seen the footage. No one could force him to call Johnathon. He had to make that decision for himself. Calling or not calling was left to his own free will. God willing, he'd choose to call.

Johnathon was spending time watching the French engravings while the others were taking a break. They made certain there was always at least one of them watching, since there was nothing else that could be done. Watching the same unchanging letters wasn't pleasant, but wouldn't rush God.

He got up to stretch his legs, not out of necessity, but desire to move. Pacing helped pass the time without looking away from the screen.

Johnathon fell back on a hard, wooden bench from the rocking of a small ship with oarsmen before him. White capes with red crosses could be seen across their back. Other than the oars hitting water, there was silence from the men.

A cold breeze carried water to his face and tasted the salty air. The scents filling his nostrils couldn't be anything other than the ocean. He'd been on ships before and knew those scents.

Johnathon felt something hard touch his feet between his legs and looked down to see a sarcophagus. Inside was one of the patriarchs. His hand ran along the edge and felt it as if he were really there. He didn't know which patriarch was inside and didn't matter to him.

He looked to his left and right to see other ships with oarsmen. There was no way he could see them all, but knew there were eleven others boats just like the one he was on. Each carrying its own sarcophagus.

They were taking the patriarchs towards an island with a grand mountain somewhere under Portuguese control. Looking behind him he saw a massive, wooden ship anchored in place with cannons at the ready. The masts looked strange without sails filled with wind, since that's how they always appeared when he saw one at the movies.

He looked all around to see if there was any other land in sight to try to get his bearings. There was only the island. He'd no idea which island they were headed towards.

Johnathon looked up at the sky expecting to see the sun. He found only the dark of night with clouds blocking everything. He shouldn't have seen anything more than pressing darkness, but couldn't deny what he saw all around him.

He was the only one who could see the light. God had darkened everything, even for those taking the patriarchs. For whatever reason, the angels there chose not to reveal themselves to anyone who'd actually been there.

In the dark without so much as a single torch from the island, they should've been taken off course, but direction remained true. No ship was going to falter, since angels were guiding them.

How much faith did those Templars have to row out in darkness to conceal the patriarchs? It was an incredible display of devotion to God and protection of the patriarchs. He was awed and humbled to be among them without being among them.

No matter how real it appeared, he wasn't really there. He knew he remained seated before the monitor. It was another vision from God.