Withdrawn From Man

By Tim Conley

Brenda Jones is doing research for her thesis on ancient history when she stumbles across some symbols that spark her curiosity. She takes her research to the head of her department but he blows her off and tries to get her research back on course. Little does she know that she has opened up a real 'can of worms' and becomes embroiled in a real slug fest between ancient history and modern day thought processes. She has uncovered a secret that was never to be revealed. Read & Enjoy!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tim Conley
• Release date: Aug 22, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005418755

Tim Conley

Hi, my name is Tim Conley. I live in Philadelphia, MS with my beautiful wife, Carmela. My son,James (JD) is in the Air Force and has a son Joshua who is 21/2 with another boy on the way. Carmela's son - Enrik just graduated from Mississippi State University with a degree in Teaching.I have been writing for over twenty years and have published 67 books so far - two recently with Amazon/Kindle. I'm currently working on a fantasy anthology of 28 books called The Rhumgold Sagas.I have always been interested in publishing via eBook format but just haven't found the venue until now. I'm really looking forward to participating in the eBook experience. There are 22 e-books available now and 16 more that are being prepared for release in 2020. Read, explore and enjoy!

Book preview

Withdrawn from Man

TIM CONLEY

Copyright © 2012 Tim Conley

Dragon’s Breath Publishing

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 1-9759-8868-X

ISBN-13: 978-1-9759-8868-5

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

About the Author

Acknowledgements

Dedication

Other Books by Author

DEDICATION

To all of those people who like historical fiction and dream of how it might have been if they had lived way back when.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I would like to acknowledge the faith and patience my wife Carmela has had in me during the long process of bringing my book ideas to fruition. I thank her from the bottom of my heart.

C1 A Forested Meeting

Alferd checked his laminated bow again and tried to tune out all the ambient noises around him. The clop of the Clydesdales rang through the forest as he dropped down behind a copse of brush and waited. It didn’t take long for the heavy wagon to appear. Cross-latches in the upper carriage protected the occupants – as well as serving as ports where cross bow bolts could be delivered with withering effect.

Both horses were straining to pull the wagon and Alferd could hear them groaning from the effort. He sighted down his bow and located the driver’s companion. He would have to be taken out with the first shot – then the driver.

Alferd knew he was good enough to make that happen, but he was also aware that he was going to have to quickly melt into the forest and wait until the horses ran down. They were going to continue even after the reins were dropped.

With his quarry now in sight he had to fight to control his functions. His arms seemed pumped up with all the preparations he had made over the past months since finding out that the Cardinal was sending his emissary to Clothemaire.

His bow string twanged softly as his arrow sped true. The companion dropped from the seat and slid under the wagon as the driver started to bring his whip to bear on the team of horses. His lash didn’t land as Alferd’s second arrow buried itself between his shoulder blades. He stiffened and dropped the reins – slumping down into the hold in front of the driver’s seat.

Alferd quickly unstrung his bow and wrapped the string around his wrist as he ran deeper into the forest. He stopped at a pre-designed spot and kicked the stick holding up the blind as he rolled under it. Not many minutes later he discovered the gauntlet covered legs as they struggled through the brush that bordered the road. At least five men were now stomping around looking for the bandits who had stopped their progress.

Alferd lay quietly and let the noises of the forest separate from the sounds of his pursuers. They had exited the carriage on the opposite side of the road and consequently hadn’t detected him as he melted into the greenery.

The undergrowth had returned to its gentle waving in the breeze before they could pick up the trail. They were casting about and coming up empty. Not the first time.

These men were not of the Cardinal’s Grenadiers or Alferd would not have ventured to start with them. He thought back over the past half year and all the machinations which had taken place. His father’s bones still decorated the tower wall in Albacore.

His mother and sister were still in abject slavery and had probably already been sold to the Slaver’s Guild. Coppers from their sale had reinforced the Cardinal’s already sizeable wealth.

Alferd grimaced as the guards hastened by his hideout and considered again how to take them out. His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the crash of the wagon as the Clydesdales finally tried to pull across the ditch he had hidden in the road.

Without the driver they were going to be thrashing around trying to escape from the weight of the wagon.

Rushing feet crashed through the brush past his vantage point as the guards rushed back to the wagon. Considerable shouting was heard as they valiantly tried to right the wagon from the ditch. It was soon apparent to everyone that they were not going to move it and someone ventured forward to cut the traces from the horses.

Alferd stole down and crossed the road to come up on the opposite side where he could look directly into the wreck site without being seen. He held his breath as he again restrung his bow and waited.

One of the guards had climbed up on the wagon as it lay on its side and pried open the door. He reached down into the interior and heaved to bring the fat body of the emissary up through the door.

Alferd sighted down over the curve of his bow and knew he couldn’t miss the red clothed target that was teetering on the edge of the carriage. Again his arrow flew and the emissaries face showed his surprise as he looked down and saw the fletching buried deep in his diaphragm.

He squealed weakly and tumbled down upon the men below him. The man standing on the carriage cast about – looking for a target as he tried to bring his cumbersome crossbow to his shoulder and stay on top of the wagon at the same time as it teetered on the edge of turning over. The arrow that penetrated his throat solved his balancing problem and he tumbled after the emissary.

By then the guards had regrouped and scurried around behind the wagon – staring into the forest in earnest. Alferd had already melded back into the forest and ran again on fleet feet to his next hide. This time he wasn’t followed.

The guards were conferring whether they would continue on into the town that was still miles ahead or go back to inform the Cardinal that he would need another emissary.

Alferd watched from his treetop hide as they made up their mind and slunk back down the track toward their report to the Cardinal. He climbed down and followed behind them as they trudged toward a meeting that none of them really had the stomach for. The Cardinal’s Grenadiers had a nasty reputation for being thorough in their methods of getting to the truth of any situation.

Alferd sighed and finally broke off his pursuit. He wanted at least a couple of them to make it back to Albacore. He returned to the wagon, climbed up to look in and almost died.

C2 Research at Friar Abbey

Brenda Jones looked up from the manuscript she was reading and glanced out the library window. Sunshine was still pouring in and she could see the dust motes as they swam in the beams coming through the windows. Her thoughts surrounded the fact that the friars should really vacuum more often.

Her research project brought her focus back to the manuscript and she tried to concentrate on translating the old Latin text into English. Her understanding of the ancient language was sorely taxed as she had to refer to her lexicon more often than she wanted to.

At the moment she was trying to wrest a closer meaning out of the concept of the text that someone or something had withdrawn from man.

‘Is that what this is all about?’ she surmised as she scanned down the page and noticed for the first time a seal that had been drawn into the right hand margin. She didn’t recognize it and placed a sheet of tracing paper over it and rapidly traced the design before replacing the paper back inside the front pocket of her binder.

Her cell phone vibrated, and she consulted the number. It was Professor Magnetz’ office.

She let it go to voicemail and then held the phone close to her ear so no one else was disturbed.

The Professor’s secretary wanted to know if she could come in to meet with the Professor in the afternoon of the 23rd of July.

She consulted her day planner and notated the time of the meeting before sending a text in response.

Professor Magnetz was really making her life miserable as he was requesting more and more research from her in fulfillment of her doctoral thesis. She almost wished now that she could have gotten anyone else for her chair, but then had to admit that she had certainly learned a lot in the time span of the months that she had been working on her thesis.

At the moment, she was more concerned with the feeling that she might have bitten off more than she could chew. Her topic was an investigation into why there was a void between the years following the initial Roman occupation of Briton and the Middle Ages of the influence of the Druids and their religion.

If you could call it a religion in the strictest sense of the word. She was becoming more convinced that she was trying to paste a modern word on something that had no correlation in modern times. The Druids seemed to not so much have a religion as a way of life. They didn’t seem to separate their religious beliefs from the other parts of their lives.

Brenda rubbed her hands across eyes that were suddenly gritty and in want of sleep. For just a moment she laid her head down on the manuscript and wished not for the first time that she could just digest the material by laying her head on top of it.

She finally had to admit to herself that that just didn’t work and again set herself to the task of actually producing something that would justify the time she had just spent in the library of the Jesuits. Another hour saw her closer to the back of the manuscript, but she wasn’t sure that there had been anything in the intervening pages that justified her time.

She arose as her watch said it was five in the afternoon and returned the volume to the circulation desk. She would have to check it out again in the near future so she took a red sticker from the desk that would indicate that she still had to have the document at some later time in the near future. The friars would set it back onto the appropriate shelf where it could be produced again with little effort.

She slowly walked across campus and found her car. She barely knew when she pulled into her parking spot at her apartment because her mind seemed to be somewhere else.

Brenda was still in a daze when she opened the door to her apartment and beheld the deliberate disorder that presented itself. Someone had gone through her apartment like a thunderstorm and it looked as if a disaster had really taken place.

She gasped and paused in the doorway. One window was standing open and the curtains were blowing into the room as she listened to