Pursuit of the Patriarchs

Chapter 34

The three must've grown tired of waiting for explosive chaos and chose the use of firearms. Synagogues and schools were met with bullets and armed response increased to put a stop to them. Bullets may be bad, but explosives would've been worse. At least walls stopped bullets and didn't bring buildings down.

The death toll weighed heavy on his soul and Johnathon prayed for an end to the madness along with much the world. Instead of the desired chaos, Christians and Jews were coming together creating a spiritual awakening.

God was frustrating the three, since God was far greater than them or the fallen who led them.

Throughout it all, Johnathon and the others waited for God's sign.

They often prayed together in the room where the jumbled letters continued to give no clues beyond the patriarchs being moved to somewhere in Scotland.

The four were deep in prayer in the room with Johnathon's server when Rosewell, Scotland came to him. There was no breaking off the prayer that kept the adversary away. Just acceptance he wasn't the only one who knew where they were taken.

After the prayer, he looked at each of them as they did the same to ensure the certainty was there. The four knew Rosewell was where the patriarchs were taken from Portugal.

Arrangements were made to meet with Elspeth McLeish, an Edinburgh local who was trusted by William. She'd take them to Rosewell or anywhere else needed without question.

They made the drive without drawing suspicion from anyone and met the wild, brown-haired woman with brown eyes and pale complexion at a busy pub full of tourists before getting into her van to take them south.

Johnathon was sitting in the front speaking with a Scottish dialect to keep his cover, while the other three sat in the back with the gear, including his server.

He found himself at Rosslyn Castle with Templars at the ready on either side. The Jacobites could be seen in the distance getting ready to attack the castle.

"They're gone, captain," someone from below called out in French.

He tried to look, but was unable to move. All he could do was watch the approaching hoard of maddened Scots being driven on by of the fallen. A darkness emanated from their leader that drove them through undirected hate of anyone before them.

"Men, the patriarchs are being taken to safety. We must buy them time. We hold at all costs with our lives," the captain shouted in French for all to hear.

A loud roar of cheers rose up from the Templars in the castle and felt himself lifted to watch the battle unfold. The maddened Jacobites threw everything they had at the castle, including flaming stone and arrows, which were lethal quite lethal and brought yells of injured and dying.

Numerous attempts were made to get in and all were rebuffed by Templars who fought with everything they had. Even when their numbers were too few to hold the castle, they still fought with ferocity driven by strength from God.