The Testament

Blood was everywhere. Bravo collapsed where he stood. He put his head in his hands, but they were shaking so badly he immediately lifted it up back. The Russian wasn't breathing, he was gone.

His body aching, Bravo crawled to the edge of the chimney, shi

At that moment, pain exploded at the back of his head, and he pitched forward into unconsciousness.

Chapter 32

"I have to hand it to you, Bravo-you and your father-you ran quite a race." Jordan came around into Bravo's line of vision. "But, in the end, all your scheming, all your machinations didn't matter, because here we are and-" He held something shiny between the first and second fingers of his right hand. "Here it is-the key to the Order's cache, the key to immortality."

He crouched down beside Bravo, who lay on the cavern floor, hands behind his back, wrists and ankles tightly bound. "Go ahead, by the way, try as hard as you can to work your way out. It won't do you any good."

"Why are you doing this, Jordan? What happened to you?"

Jordan laughed. "You make it sound as if I'm suffering from a blow to the head. Poor Bravo. I never was the helpful, straight-shooting lad I pretended to be. I did a good job lying to you, don't you think? No, don't bother to answer. It doesn't matter what you think anymore." He patted the top of Bravo's head, as if he were an old pet who'd sadly but inevitably come to the end of his life.

"Happily, that phase is over, along with pretending to listen to my mother. While she's been out here, keeping tabs on you, I've staged a coup d'etat of sorts. The Knights tied to that disgustingly inbred cabal at the Vatican, the Knights my mother has been desperate to take over, the Knights of St. Clement are no more. They're my Knights now-the Knights of Muhlma

"That will be enough."

Jordan's head whipped around and Bravo strained to get a look, though he recognized the voice well enough.

Camille stood, training the Witness on her son. "Untie him."

Jordan laughed. "Mother, you can't mean it."

"But I do, darling, I very much do."

"Are you still pretending to be his friend? I've already told him you're not. You're every inch his enemy, just like me."

"Fortunately, I'm nothing like you, Jordan. I killed the Albanian, by the way, and judging by the amount of blood dripping down that shaft I'd say Bravo put away your Russian, what's his name, oh, yes, I remember, Oberov."

"Did you sleep with him, too, Mother?" Jordan said bitterly. "Have you slept with all the Knights of the Field?"

"You're not jealous, are you, darling?" Camille waggled the business end of the gun. "Now do as I say. Untie him."

"Really, Mother, it's u

"Now, you stupid child! And not another word!"

Blood rushed into Jordan's face in direct proportion to the amount that fled his heart. As he mechanically undid the knots he'd so painstakingly and lovingly tied, it seemed to him as if his heart had ceased to beat. He was still breathing, still moving, still thinking, but on another level whatever had been left of his heart had vanished beneath a shell as hard, as immovable as the black rock of this mountain. Cocooned within the organization of the Knights he'd always felt separate, apart from the rest of humanity-and grateful for it, too. But now, for the first time, he felt the chill of the space he occupied, as if his aloneness had taken on another, altogether baleful quality, as if he had misread it all along, hadn't realized until this moment that it was, in fact, a vacuum, greedily absorbing light, co

"There." He stood back. "It's done." He turned to his mother, to the woman who he despised most in the world. "But toward what end?" He held up the key for her to see. "I already took it from him. I did what you dreamed of doing."

"No, Jordan. I'm your mother, you will obey me."

"My time of servitude to you has ended. And do you know why? I'm no longer willing to be bound by your secret."

A look of horror marred Camille's beautiful face. "Jordan, no! You can't!"

"But I can, Mother, and I will." He turned to Bravo. "Here it is in a nutshell, my friend-my very good and faithful friend-the short story of the lie your entire life has been. My mother was your father's mistress. That's right, he was shacking up with her for years, while you and your siblings were growing up and, in one case, dying. Your mother never suspected and you were too young. In any event, he was so good at keeping secrets, wasn't he? And then, when you were just past your fifth birthday, she became pregnant with his child."

"Wait," Bravo said.

Jordan laughed harshly. "Oh, look at his expression, Mother, isn't that the look you've dreaded? Yes, yes, I think so! I, too, am your father's son, so that makes us, what, brothers, yes? Well, half-brothers, if you need to be technical. Not to worry, it's all relative under the skin." He laughed again.

"Wait," Bravo repeated. His head was pounding so hard, he felt as if his brain would explode at any minute. He turned to Camille, "Is this true?"

Jordan continued, relentless. "He betrayed your mother, he would have betrayed you, too, so Camille believes. She says he had agreed to leave you-leave his family-to live with her, with us. But then your brother Junior died, and he couldn't bring himself to make the break."

Bravo stared into Camille's face and for the first time saw naked emotion. It was so raw, so devastating that he had the urge to turn away, as if from a terrible injury. And so the truth burst in on him with the force of a grenade blast.

Jordan shrugged. "If it makes you feel any better, I don't believe that fairy tale. Your father never would have left his family. He didn't want my mother, he didn't want me, either. He proved that over and over when I tried to contact him."

Camille's head swung around, her eyes open wide. "You did what? I expressly forbade you to contact him."

"Did you really think I'd listen to you? Jesus Christ, he was my father. Of course I tried. But he wouldn't see me, wouldn't even talk to me. You see, Mother, if he never wanted anything to do with me, why would he leave his family for you?" He laughed. "Dexter Shaw played you just as you were playing him."

"You're insane. Dexter never knew a thing."

"You're right, Mother, I have no proof, except what was once in my heart, and now I can never reach it again. C'est la guerre." He shrugged. "It's of no matter now, is it? We pla

"And we were right. You solved every cipher your father threw at you. Because he had trained you, you knew him better than anyone. You had the knowledge he'd given you, locked away inside you. You see, Bravo, you've never stopped working for me. Don't you find that ironic?"

Bravo wanted to curl up and die, he wanted to lash out. An inchoate shrieking filled his mind so that he could not speak, could not think clearly. He could only listen to the horror that came pouring out of their mouths: the lie of his own abominable existence.