By daybreak, twenty men were under arrest. St Anthony Parish looked more like a military garrison. A battered, though strong Fr. Gabriel was offering thanksgiving prayers in the Abbey church…with Gilbert and his friends in attendance. Alfred and Sam who had a long riotous exchange of blame and counter blame before they reconciled, sat calmly behind the Prince. While Michael seated himself at the far back of the church with his hood covering his head and face.
After the prayers, Fr. Gabriel greeted everybody, and then said to the prince, “I must also mention another thing here. God in his infinite wisdom and kindness had sent us an angel to be instrumental in our safety and in saving our whole kingdom, in a manner which can only be devised by the divine.”
“An angel…as in a vision?” Asked Gilbert.
“No your highness…he is here in the flesh…” Gabriel said. Then he spoke loudly, “Michael, don’t run. Please…come here at once…don’t even think of running…you shall insult all of us if you do. Come here my child.”
A hesitant and confused Michael walked towards the altar in cumbersome steps, making sure to cover his face completely.
Gabriel hugged the young man saying, “When God sent you here, I knew that there is more to it than just keeping you safe from your persecutors.” He turned to the prince saying, “When you hear the story of this young man, you shall be amazed. You shall all be amazed to know as well…that angels don’t always have …how do I say that…well…they don’t always have what we humans might consider to be a handsome face.” he tried to remove Michael’s hood. But the young man kept holding it tight as he pleaded sobbingly,
“No…no…please…father no.” Michael begged.
Alfred rushed to him and wrapped his left arm around his shoulder… He said reassuringly, “It’s OK Michael, you are among friends now.”
Gilbert walked slowly towards them and gently reached out …touched the sobbing young man, then…slowly lifted the hood off his face. Appalled at the extreme disfigurement he fell back a couple of steps, and then recovered fast. He stretched his hand to shake Michael’s hand and asked firmly, “How did this happen to you?”
Carlo the run away ruffian arrived at Jacquard Vineyard late Thursday night. He found that Bart had already left for Miller, to meet with the barbarians the flowing day. Only Prince Williams was there, as he didn’t like to travel in the bad weather.
He was ushered in to meet Williams in the drawing room. The prince didn’t know who he was, so he asked him, “Are you a friend of Bart?”
“No your highness, I work for him,” Was the polite reply.
“What is the urgency of your errand?” Williams asked.
“…Um. Sir we…I mean…I was assigned with two others to watch the house of the lawyer, Alfred.” Carlo reported, “We were supposed to monitor his movements and see if he knew where the…the disfigured man was. This afternoon, we broke into the house only to find the monster already inside_____”
“The ugly man was in Walto city under our very noses?” exclaimed the prince.
“He overpowered the other two guys and I could escape.” The man said. “I thought I should let Bart know what happened.” “he beat up all three of you, In the Capital…at the lawyer’s house, what a beast..” Williams chuckled, then pondering the possibilities, he paced the room thinking to himself, “That is good. We can now easily arrest the lawyer as harboring a fugitive from justice. Just as well, it will be hard to find either of them, since they shall now flee knowing that you have got away.” He turned to Carlo saying, “All right, what’s your name…you’ve done well. Have something to eat and get some rest. May be in the morning the weather gets better and we can make the trip to Miller to discuss this with Bart.”
Friday morning was a beautiful sunny day in Miller. The beautiful village was riveting in the spring bloom. Bart Jacquard woke up in his brother’s estate, refreshed and optimistic after his arduous journey of the previous night. He ate breakfast with his paralyzed brother and his family.
“That pesky lawyer had been sneaking all over the place asking questions. We have to get rid of him,” Demanded Solomon.
“Pretty soon we will,” Cautioned the older Jacquard. “As soon as I’m done with that matter of state, we shall have all the leverage needed to do what we want. We are going to install the new king and he…shall be my new toy.”
“You are always looking way up high my brother. Why don’t you play it safe?” Solomon wailed.
“Playing it safe never gets you anywhere.” Bart said sarcastically. “It keeps you stagnant until you rot and die…hear that children?” His two nephews nodded while busy munching their food.
“When are you going to let me go work for you Uncle Bart?” Bart junior, the seventeen years old asked. The younger sibling jumped in asking for the same. It was evident how they took pride in their uncle’s notoriety.
At noon, Bart dressed up and got ready to meet with the conspirators. He rode to the Mayor’s office…picked up the three men George had arranged to accompany him together with a horse loaded with two wooden crates. He then stopped by the mayor’s barber shop to make sure that the inn keeper where the meeting was to take place was aware that he had to close his inn to the public while the delegates are congregating. When he was satisfied that everything was set up for a successful meeting, he led his little convoy to the small inn of ‘the crowing rooster’.
The small inn was the first thing any northbound traveler from Janesville would encounter as he approached Miller. It was surrounded by sprawling green meadows from all directions. Its keeper regularly paid the required protection money to the Jacquards. So he ran a stable lucrative business with guarantees that he would never have to contend with any competition. His business was booming because of the constant traffic of military personnel to and from the border town.
When he arrived at the inn, Bart Jacquard found that the barbarians did not arrive yet. So he and his company had a table set up for them outside in the fresh air and sat down with some refreshments. His optimism was beginning to erode as hour after hour went by with no sign of his conferees. He feared that they might have failed to cross the border. Eventually, his fears were dissipated when the four gruff looking men rode into the inn. He kept his men outside, while Sal the leader of the other delegate took only his brother into the meeting.
After exchanging the formal pleasantries, Bart declared, “I shall not be able to secure ten canons. But I can guarantee five, at a hundred gold pieces each.”
“We need ten…that is what we need. Besides, my brother Ishim here says we can get what we need from the people across the sea for much less money.” Sal countered.
“Sal, my friend…we are not going to haggle over this again. The only issue we have to settle is the number of canons. And don’t forget I am adding in the fifty muskets at dirt cheap price.” A cool Bart said cheerfully, “if you want to cancel the deal altogether, then just say so…we don’t have to get testy over these things”
Ishim then spoke in a coarse low voice, “If we accept your terms, when can you deliver those weapons?”
“I shall meet with the prince this Sunday. I shall insist that we deliver them within two weeks.” Jacquard reassured him.
The two brothers whispered into each other’s ears, then Sal said, “I shall give you a hundred pieces of gold for each canon only if you deliver ten canons within a week…otherwise, I shall only pay seventy a piece”
Bart knew that his task to force Gilbert to hand over the weapons was already uncertain and difficult. But he had nothing to lose by promising at least to try.
“I shall see what I can do. But the most important thing is that the military here can see a clear and organized withdrawal of your armies for the next six month.” Jacquard replied, “What you do after that is your business. You can come and occupy this country if you like, I don’t care. You are my friends anyway and we shall always be able to find ways to do business together”
“Unlike your countrymen, you are a practical and smart man Bart Jacquard.” Sal responded, “As we agreed previously, I am going to give you the hundred gold pieces as down payment…did you bring the fifteen muskets?”
“Yes…my men outside have everything ready for you. But no black powder yet as we agreed,” answered Bart.
The conference ended as the two sides decided on the following meeting and the place of delivering the goods to finalize the deal. Sal and Ishim insisted that the final meeting would be on their grounds as they surreptitiously had no intention to give Jacquard any more money. They sealed their exchange with a final shake hand and the barbarians took off to the south.
Bart Jacquard was exceedingly happy. He got the gold, with the promise of more to come. His plans were working. He knew that the only obstacle yet to be overcome was his encounter with Gilbert. But he had a secret solution for that too which he had not intimated to anybody. On his way back, he was surprised to see George’s barber shop closed. He expected the mayor to be waiting anxiously to hear the good news. Bart was even in such a generous mood that he wanted to invite George to dinner in order to celebrate. He left his entourage at the municipal headquarters of the village council and then rode alone triumphantly to his brother’s home. Surprisingly there was nobody outside to greet him as usual. He was getting a little worried as he dismounted, tethered his own horse since the stable man didn’t show up as usual, and climbed the few stairs hurriedly to get into the big reception hall.
There was a large throng of people waiting for him as he walked in. He was shocked to see Prince Gilbert in his sharp military regalia standing majestically at the center of the hall. Instinctively Bart looked behind him to see if he could still retreat, but a tall monk with his hood covering his face was already blocking the door. His keen instincts immediately took over as he got into a defensive mode.
“Your highness…what an honor,” Bart said controlling his emotions.
“Where were you Jacquard?” Gilbert asked flatly.
“I was securing some funds for the military your highness,” responded the weasel unaware of what transpired at St. Anthony’s parish. He was getting ready to further explain …when Alfred emerged from the back of the pack pushing the chained savage Jacquard in front of him. The older Jacquard felt his heart skip a few beats. Chokingly he asked angrily, “what is the meaning of this?”
Gilbert took his time to find an arm chair, sat down saying, “cut to the chase Jacquard. What was the purpose of that elaborate hoax of yours?”
Bart somehow saw a glimmer of hope, “No hoax your highness…I had to bring to your attention a great opportunity___” He started
“I said cut to the chase…” thundered Gilbert. “You literally occupy one of the villages of this country like an invading army. You set up your men to stalk an innocent officer of the law and destroy his property…and to top it all, you had your goons threaten and torture a peaceful Godly monk inside his abbey…is there anyway you can explain that criminal behavior”
Bart Jacquard realized that all his plans were suddenly unraveling. He couldn’t understand exactly what went wrong. But he realized that now he had to fight for dear life. He puffed himself up and put on his wicked face as he challenged the prince, “Don’t push too hard your highness. Don’t forget what I’m capable of.”
Gilbert smiled amusingly, “Every dog has a day Jacquard…your day has come.” The prince stood up and said as if to himself, “may be we shouldn’t give you the chance to come clean now. That would be too generous and kind. Let’s use some of your own interrogation methods on you.” He pointed to some of his men to move on and capture the wealthy gangster.
Bart immediately shouted, “I just got a hundred pieces of gold from the barbarians. There is more to come…I was planning to ask you to sell them some of your malfunctioning canons…the ones deemed useless by your officers…” everybody stopped in anticipation of the Prince’s reaction.
Gilbert approached the older Jacquard who, gripped with fear fell on his knees and had a wild look in his eyes. The prince looked at him disdainfully and after a few minutes of thinking, he said slowly, “All right, we shall get to the bottom of that.” Then he waved for his men to take him out.
The coronation Mass of King Gilbert was splendid. His father was immensely relieved to transfer the throne to him knowing that his country was in good hands. Gilbert, upon Alfred’s advice – as he now became his personal advisor – used Bart Jacquard’s scheme to subdue the Barbarians once and for all. He sent a band of his men with help from Alfred and Michael to deliver the proposed shipment of weapons. In stead, they captured Sal and his brother…they exposed the lies about the strength of the barbarian army…and the mere appearance of Michael in the midst of the barbarian camp wreaked havoc on the frightened soldiers who scampered screaming abandoning their posts. But Alfred was clever enough to create a peace treaty with those enemies including provisions of trade and commerce to benefit both sides. He got Gilbert to release the captured leaders and even invite them to his coronation as friends of his country.
As for the arrogant Williams, when he arrived at Miller late that fateful Friday and discovered the events unfolding there, he fled the country together with some of Jacquard’s goons. He couldn’t even hide in the barbarian land. He just disappeared and nobody ever heard of him again.
At the great banquet after the coronation, Alfred went to Sam’s table and greeted his wife, “Hello Maria…I hope you don’t mind me being invited to this party.”
The blushing woman giggled loudly saying, “Are all bums as funny as you are?”
“How would I know? I am always in the company of princes and kings” Alfred answered modestly.
A short while later Gilbert walked among the celebrants greeting them and receiving their congratulations. The royal band was playing. And everyone was happy. He arrived at Sam’s table and asked Alfred, “where is Michael?”
“He is in the chapel with Fr. Gabriel.” Alfred answered.
“Let’s go to them.” the king suggested.
Together they stealthily sneaked out of the ball room. At the Palace chapel, they waited until the priest finished his prayers. The king put his arm around Michael and talked to the priest, “Father Gabriel, what do you think would be a proper reward for such a good man?” Michael began to shiver next to the king who tightened his grip on him.
“I think the restoration of his family’s estate to its rightful owner would be a good start your majesty.” Gabriel said.
Now Gilbert turned to Michael and asked, “what else do you want me to do for you young soldier?”
Michael spoke in a hardly audible voice, “Your Majesty…I don’t want any estate…I don’t want any money…please allow me to go to live with Father Gabriel…you can give the money to the poor in Miller or St. Anthony parish…or…”
The king was deeply impressed. He let loose the young man who moved to hide behind the priest and tugged at his arm for approval.
“The estate will be restored back to your name, together with Jacquard Miller estate. What you do with it will be your decision.” Gilbert declared, “Of course you can go to live with father Gabriel at the abbey if you want. And you must know that you are welcome here in this palace any time you want to come…right Alfred?”
“Yes your Majesty… That …is justice at last.” Alfred said in a poignant voice.
As the king motioned to Al and both turned to leave, Michael ran to hug Alfred saying,
“I shall never forget…I was dead…and the Lord sent you to raise me back to life. I cannot thank you enough…May God reward you abundantly for all the love you freely showed me just like a devoted father to his son.”