Jack
Guinevere. “Guinevere,” I said, though I was sure that no one was listening to me. I was not even certain of where I was. I felt a haze around my head, and everything was white. My shoulder burned and ached, my head throbbed, and I had to fight to get my eyes to open and remain open. Moving my head to the side and glancing over the room, relief washed over me. I was in Gideon’s library.
Perhaps it was only a dream after all—that horrendous battle.
Trying to sit up only brought excruciating pain to my chest. A large white bandage was wrapped around my bare chest. So it was not a dream. I groaned as I shut my eyes.
“I was beginning to believe you meant to sleep all the day long,” said Gideon’s voice. I opened my eyes to see him entering the room with a tray which he set down before coming over to place a pillow under my head. There was so much that I felt like I needed to remember, but at the moment, it was all as blurry as my vision had been but moments before.
Grabbing Gideon’s arm I rasped out, “How am I here?”
“What do you remember, John?”
My mind tried to push through the fog surrounding it. Pieces slowly came into view. “I was on a mission. Guinevere was there.” I looked at Gideon. “Where is my team? I must get up. I must go to George.”
Gideon laid a hand on my good shoulder and held me down, though it was unnecessary. I could not get up, and my eyelids slipped closed as darkness took me prisoner again.
When my eyes again opened, the pain had lessened into aches. My mind was not nearly as clouded, and more pieces were coming together. The assassins, the battle, Guinevere, Monroe. Monroe.
“Monroe?”
Gideon came over to me, smiling. “You are awake, the Lord be praised.” He picked up a glass and lifted my head so I could take a sip. I raised my hand when I had drunk half the contents. He removed it and lowered me back down.
“How long have I been here?”
“Two days so far. You were unconscious for the first whole day and awoke only once this morning. It is now nine in the evening.” He pulled a chair beside me. “Can you tell me what you remember?”
Closing my eyes, I recounted the battle outside the house. I had called out to tell Monroe, who was in the library, that the battle had begun. Monroe came into the room. I was telling him to go back into the library, when Guinevere arrived and shot Monroe, then me.
“Monroe is fine, John. Even now he is with George. From Jericho’s account, he entered the house to find you shot and unconscious on the floor. He went in search of Monroe and found him locked in the library. He did not know who shot you.”
“She shot him. I saw her do it.” I remembered her eyes, her beautiful, sorrowful eyes as she squeezed the trigger.
“Why would she keep you alive after you watched her shoot Monroe?” There was only curiosity in Gideon’s voice.
Why would she do that? She would not. Not unless...
Gideon spoke again, drawing me out of my thoughts. “You were wearing your mask?”
“Yes.”
“You were not wearing it when you were brought here. Perhaps Jericho removed it, but, I am afraid that my thoughts lead me down a path of concern.”
A knot formed in my stomach and my shoulders tensed causing pain to surround my wound. “You believe she removed my mask; even now knows who I am?” Gideon did not have to reply, I could see it in his eyes. Panic, fear, alarm all tumbled inside me, filling every part of me. “If it is so, I must go. My mother and Bess will not be safe.” I tried to rise again, but Gideon gently pushed me back down by my good shoulder.
“We must await word from George. In your current state, you could be of little help. You must allow others to protect your mother and sister.”
“If Guinevere should tell Richard, all will be lost,” I whispered with my eyes closed.
“Have faith, my friend. What you must do now is rest. Regain your strength and leave the fighting to others.”
Though I tried to do as instructed, I could not rest. As it was late, Gideon could not send a message to George, but he promised to do so in the morning.
Gideon gave me a sleeping draught, since I could not fall asleep on my own. When I awoke, the room was bright with morning sunshine. After seeing to my needs, Gideon helped me to a chair and gave me food. When I had consumed three eggs, four slices of bread, and an apple, I sat back in the chair and closed my eyes. The battle played in my head. I had watched it all from the parlor window, until Monroe entered. He never said a word, did not have the chance before Guinevere entered and shot him. A stunned moment had passed between us, and I reached for my pistol. She raised a second pistol and shot me. I stumbled back, tripping over a low stool and struck the back of my head on the table. After that, I awoke in Gideon’s library.
Horse’s hooves beating hard against the ground outside came to our ears.
“That will be the boy with news from George. I will return shortly.”
Gideon left me alone, but I could not stop the worry from coursing through me. If anything happened to Bess or my mother, I did not know what I would do. They were all the family I had. If Richard harmed them, injury or no, I would retaliate.
Without me there to protect them, I feared for them. There had been injuries in the past, but never had such a feeling of helplessness surrounded me. Guinevere loved me, I knew that. Would she turn me over to Richard, whom she despised? How deep did her loyalty lie? I had to do something. I pushed myself up, but exerted all of my energy in doing so. I sat again, taking deep breaths.
Gideon came back into the house, handed me a letter, and moved to sit across from me. I opened the letter, consuming the words.
My Dear John,
I was both saddened and grieved to hear of your wound, but I trust that you will find it healed before many days. I will see to it that your mother is made aware of your prolonged visit with G. Be at ease; there is nothing to worry you as M. is as he ever was. Rest and I will be to see you in a few days. G.C.
There had to be more to it than I was reading. “Will you see what you can do?”
Gideon took the letter from me and moved over to the fireplace. Holding the letter before the flames, words appeared, written in invisible ink between the lines.
“George was ever the one to use tricks of old.” Gideon shook his head. “George writes as follows: Man took by white phantom, not eagle. Eagle flies free. Guards with mother.” Gideon lowered the letter, looking at me. “What is this business about the eagle? He means Monroe?”
“If what George writes is correct, Monroe is safe but who was the man that the white phantom shot, and why did he look like Monroe?” And why had George said nothing about Bess?
“All shall be revealed in time,” Gideon said as he tossed the letter into the flames. “For now, you must rest and regain your strength, so that you may piece together this most intriguing puzzle.”
I stayed with him for two days, regaining my strength, but also because Gideon would not relinquish my company. He refused to let me use either carriage or horse, saying my wound was not healed enough for me to make the hour long journey to my mother’s home. What I believed was that, even though he was worried about my wound, he was lonely living by himself, and he was enjoying my company.
My wound was healing nicely, and the pain in both my shoulder and where my head struck the table were growing less noticeable with each passing day. I had ample time to think over the happenings of the battle, but there were too many unanswered questions. Bess had not written me or come to see me, and that was distressing.
Gideon was out visiting a sick parishioner, so I moved around the shelves of his library, searching for something I had not read. My eyes roamed over the titles until they landed on one that made me laugh. The Mysteries of Udolpho. The novel was not at all the sort that Gideon read. It was a different side to my mentor that I had not seen before. I plucked the novel from the shelf and an envelope slipped from within the pages of the book, dropping to the floor. I bent to re
trieve it. Turning it over the words WA Phantoms leapt at me.
Could Gideon be a traitor?
Not liking where my thoughts threatened to take me, I glanced toward the open door. After checking the empty foyer, I opened the envelope. Taking out two folded letters, they were blank sheets of paper. Or were they? I took them to the fireplace and knelt. As the paper heated the words appeared. And there Gideon was scoffing at George for using invisible ink all the time having this hiding in his bookshelf. I felt my lip curl as I devoured the words. One was a report about Pierre’s capture. The other was startling. After reading the papers twice I refolded them and set both the letter and book on the table.
I closed my eyes and tightened my hands into fists. I squeezed as hard as I could to keep from hitting something. How did I not see it? How did I not know? My jaw was so tight it hurt, but I did not unclench my teeth.
Gideon entered the house a few minutes later and came in, apologizing for leaving me alone. Even though my back was to him, I knew the instant that he saw the book and letter. Tenseness covered the room.
“That is why you befriended me; why you never appeared surprised with any news that I shared with you about the Phantoms.” I turned toward Gideon, not reining in my anger. “How long did you hope to keep this a secret?”
Gideon lowered himself onto the sofa, his face pale. “Allow me to explain.”
“Yes, pray do explain how you managed to hide the fact that you are the fourth founder of the Phantoms, how you were once a Culper spy, and how you are the leader of the Washington Phantoms.” I ran a hand through my hair, wanting to pull it out. “How did I not see it?”
“My dear fellow, only a few people know. After I had been wounded during the war, I returned home to find my house burned and my wife dead.
“As I was a wounded soldier, I decided to enter the church and spent years studying and learning until I was ready to take holy orders. That was when I met your father.”
Never having heard Gideon’s story, I sat across from him, interested, despite my anger.
Gideon told my father his story. My father persuaded him to join his cause, but silently and secretly. My father thought it best that he be was only active leader. He made plans for the Phantoms from the beginning; plans to turn them into a branch of authority. That was why he needed a politician as a founder; someone who could make a way for the Phantoms to gain notoriety.
That was all new to me. My father never spoke of those plans for the Phantoms. I knew that George always sought notoriety but that my own father did as well was hard to accept.
“Why did you never tell me?” I inquired.
“Your father did not want it known, and your father could be most persuasive,” Gideon said, wearily.
“My father is dead,” I snapped. “You could have come forward at any time. What are you hiding?”
“I can answer that,” George said from the door. Gideon rose, and I stared at George as he came into the room. He sat upon the sofa, crossing one boot over the other and looking entirely at his ease. “I discovered who Gideon was from my father’s book of codes. Gideon was my father’s accomplice in the Culper spy ring. Gideon is the mastermind behind all the codes that we use now.”
It seemed to me that everyone was keeping secrets from me. Gideon, George, my mother, Guinevere, probably even Bess. But then, I had secrets of my own that I had not shared with my mother or sister.
“It is time for him to learn the truth, George,” Gideon said from beside the door.
George’s expression never changed. He stroked his chin with his hand. “When I told you that your father died on a mission, it was true, but I neglected to tell you what mission. Your father was disguised as a member of Levitas.”
My pulse started pounding in my ears.
“Jack, Levitas discovered who your father was, and they murdered him.”
My eyes slid shut. When I thought that there was nothing left that could surprise me George threw a life-altering secret at me. My head was spinning. “How did he die? I want to know everything.” My eyes flipped open.
“When William found Levitas, he had no way to connect them to the murders other than the pyramid brand. Your father wanted in, so he masqueraded as one of the twelve.
“You know that your father was the master of disguise, and for weeks his disguise went unnoticed. He uncovered a plot and he set a meeting with the rest of us to discuss what to do.”
“What was this plot?” I demanded.
George shook his head which sank my heart. “He never arrived. For two weeks, we could find no trace of him. A man named Lewis was the leader of Levitas at the time. From what we could discover, someone unmasked William’s disguise and brought him before the court of Levitas.”
“So that Lewis is the man who killed my father?” I asked, barely keeping my calm.
“No. It is true that Lewis gave the order, but the head of the Levitas guards was the one to carry out the execution.”
“And his name?” I asked.
“Richard Hamilton.”
I looked down to my hands that were gripping the edge of the chair. I started to count, but it did not help. I had never wanted to destroy someone more. Inhaling sharply, I tried to keep from lashing out, but my entire body shook as I rose to my feet.
“Jack, I did not tell you so that you could act rashly. You have the chance to make your father proud. Take the path of a Phantom and outwit, and out fight the enemy.”
George was right. I would do as my father would have, but first I needed to see Guinevere, even if she knew who I was.
I nodded my agreement. “I must go.”
“There is one more thing that you should know.” I looked at George, for what was one more thing to add to the ever growing list. “Levitas has Bess and Levi.”