Denver Cereal Denver Cereal

Chapter Six Hundred and Thirteen: Bathsheba (part one)

CHAPTER SIX HUNDRED and THIRTEEN

(part one)

Somewhere in time

Possibly Spain

Nelson Semaines had no idea what day it was or even how long he’d been here. He’d even lost track of where “here” might be.

Spain?

Maybe.

Sometimes.

He’d stopped trying to figure it out.

It felt like he’d been away from home for longer than grad school or internship and residency combined or forever. He’d been here forever.

Jacques d’Molay, the last publicly known Grand Master of the Templars, and his weapons’ master, Peddra, Nelson’s grandfather’s great-grandfather or something like that, had taken him to every single battle or skirmish the Templars had fought in. He’d watched the Templars bully and beat “the enemy” into submission.

Nelson had come to loath these men.

They had joyous sex with other men, but killed homosexuals in the name of God. They raped the women of their enemies, all the while believing in the pure love of their wives and, of course, the Virgin Mary. Even though they, like Nelson, had dark hair, dark eyes, and various shades of suntan skin, they loathe anyone whose skin wasn’t white.

They hated Muslim people. They hated Buddhists. They hated people of Jewish faith. They hated all of the people who celebrated earth based religions almost as much as they hated people who believed in the Greek and Roman Gods.

They didn’t hate all people, though.

They only hated anyone who wasn’t like some idealized version of them.

When they weren’t spouting racist, xenophobic, homophobic, or other disgusting rhetoric, they were blabbing on and on about the fact that they were the chosen ones.

Nelson stayed out of the fighting, the fucking, and the most of the fray.

He stayed busy working.

He kept their clothing clean and their swords sharp. After he’d hunted, slayed, cooked dinner and fed them, he was left alone to clean up the meal, bank the fire, set up their tents and beds, he finally had time to himself. He took long cold baths in the stone tub in the lowest level of what he thought was Castle Preferrada. Truth be told, all of these Templar Castles looked basically the same.

Denver Cereal continues tomorrow…

Next: Chapter Six Hundred and Thirteen: Bathsheba (part two)

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