Authors: Christopher Dinsdale
“I never thought I would see a sight so lovely . . .” he sang to the wind.
An elbow caught him in the ribs, cutting the serenade short.
“Aye, be careful of your words, my friend,” chided Angus, playfully. “If the crew hears you talk of the princess like that, they'll have you tied up and lashed for uttering such sinful thoughts.”
Connor scowled at his grinning friend. “I'm talking about getting off this cursed boat and finally setting foot on dry land. Prince Henry was right about everything. This distant land is so beautiful. We're so close now, I feel I can almost reach out and touch it!”
“And leave our cozy floating home away from home? You have got to be joking.”
Connor managed a half-grin and returned his gaze to the distant shoreline.
“Fresh water, warm shelter and solid ground . . . If I never step on another wooden deck, I will be forever happy.”
Angus chuckled. “What do you reckon of Prince Henry's choice of name for this land?”
Despite his exhaustion, Connor chuckled. “New Scotland? Not much for originality, is he?”
Together, they gazed at the approaching coastline. The usually boisterous crew also took pause and joined with the boys in silently watching the approach of solid land.
Connor suddenly straightened, his eyes narrowing curiously. “Whoa . . . Look, Angus. What's that?”
Angus shook his head in amazement. “Whatever it is, it's massive!”
Among the collection of velvety green islands, a smaller one had been stripped clean of almost all of its vegetation. Only a small glade of trees in the centre remained, making it resemble a giant turnip growing in a lush saltwater garden. The island had a small rocky point which extended into a manmade breakwater, large enough to protect an oceangoing ship from the swells of an Atlantic storm.
Crowning the bizarre island was a massive wooden structure that thrust skyward like an Egyptian pyramid. Supporting timbers zigzagged down the sides to its base. Even from this distance, Connor and Angus could see men scrambling over and under it like a colony of termites.
From the stern, Antonio broke the silence with a series of orders. Connor and Angus scrambled to their stations among the ship's complex rigging. After five weeks at sea, a change in heading was now completed with machine-like precision.
Turning the ships to a northward heading, they sailed past
the strange island and approached the forested mainland. The ships then drifted in to a large wooden pier that jutted out from the shoreline. Connor was about to fling himself over the railing and onto the firm wooden planks of the pier until Angus grabbed his shoulders from behind.
“Easy, laddie. Protocol, remember? We're just lowly crew. We leave in order of rank.”
Connor backed away from the edge and sighed, unable to tear his eyes away from the firmness of solid ground. “Aye, I forgot.”
As their ships were lashed to the pier, the boys spent their time examining the strange gathering at the end of the pier. There was a line of knights, dressed in full battle gear, standing at attention with weapons at their side. Behind them stood a row of masons and engineers, their hands still holding squares, levels and other instruments of measurement. Finally, there was a gathering of what Connor guessed were the local native people.
A spontaneous cheer erupted from the gathering as Prince Henry, in full battle gear, marched down the gangplank and walked into the waiting throng. Other knights and crew then followed suit, with the two boys pulling up the rear, finally being allowed to take that delicious first step onto solid land. Each knight from the ships was greeted with an introduction by Prince Henry, and a chance to share a handshake and a slap on the shoulder with the Templar welcoming party.
Prince Henry stepped forward and greeted an old skeleton of a man who stood wrapped in elaborate robes as if he had just arrived from ancient Rome. His withered hand shook as he reached out and clasped the prince's firm grip.
Prince Henry smiled warmly. “You look well, Master Giovanni.”
“You lie, as always, Henry. This body, I doubt, will see me back to my villa in Italy.”
“Then how,” asked Prince Henry, “will you ever be able to spend the small fortune you and the other well-deserving masons and sappers here will receive upon your return to Scotland?”
“I did this project for one reason only, Henry, and you know that. My reward is in glorifying our Father. This is my labour of love. And with the help of my fellow masters, we did it.”
Prince Henry eyes widened. “You mean it's finished?”
The prince glanced at the surrounding workers, who were bubbling with huge grins. Prince Henry shook his head in disbelief. The old man opened his palm and pointed towards the strange island the ships had passed earlier.
“Indeed, it is finished and ready for your inspection. We are disassembling the scaffolding and machinery as we speak.”
Prince Henry warmly wrapped his arm around the fragile old man. “Master Giovanni, I don't know what to say . . . In only two years, you have fulfilled the dream of every Templar who has ever walked the Earth!”
“It's not just my men and I that you should thank,” Master Giovanni chuckled. “Also thank these beautiful people behind me who kept us well fed and sheltered throughout the past two years. It was their generosity that allowed us to focus on the task at hand.”
Prince Henry beamed at his native friends, turned to Giovanni, and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Did the project's
purpose stay contained within the Templar community?”
The old man leaned his wrinkled temple against the golden hair of the prince. “Yes, your highness. As you ordered, only Na'gu'set, your Gaelic-speaking native friend, was allowed near the worksite. We posted sentries around the entire perimeter to prevent any possible trespassing, but that was only precautionary. The Mi'kmaq seemed quite uninterested in our project. In fact, I think they thought we were crazy, always coming back to their village exhausted and covered in muddy debris.”
“They truly have been a blessing to us all,” the prince commented.
“I have learned to trust these people implicitly,” agreed Giovanni. “To us, they were always kind and honest. I will sincerely miss their company. Lord knows we Europeans could learn a thing or two from them about a caring community.”
Prince Henry nodded. “You speak the truth, old friend, hence one of our reasons for being here in the first place.”
The old man looked at the surrounding green paradise. “Your dream may be to live in this new world, but I feel my time here is now coming to an end.”
The prince laughed. “As it should. We can now quickly bring our business here to a close and get you and the other engineers back to your home and your loved ones. I never thought an operation this massive could have gone so smoothly.”
Master Giovanni appeared hurt. “You hired the best engineers, sappers and masons in Europe! Surely you didn't expect any less of us?”
Prince Henry bowed respectfully. “Please accept my
apologies, old friend. How could I have possibly thought otherwise?”
Thanking the workers again, he moved on to the gathering of Mi'kmaq elders. He approached the village chief and bowed his head. The chief grasped the prince by the shoulders and spoke in a deep, powerful voice that commanded the attention of the gathering.
Na'gu'set, dressed only in leather leggings, stepped up to his chief's side. The young Mi'kmaq translated the words for the Scottish prince.
“It is good to see you again, Glooscap.”
Prince Henry gazed out over the crowd and raised his voice. “My men owe the Mi'kmaq people a great deal. Thank you for everything you have done to support my friends over the past two years.”
“It has been mutually beneficial to both peoples,” the chief responded. “Your knowledge of fishing with nets has greatly increased our food stocks for the winter. It has made our existence much easier. Therefore, it is an honour to share what we have with you and your people.”
The prince smiled. “The honour is ours, I assure you. As you may be aware, we are reaching the final stages of our mission here in your land. We will soon have to depart.”
The elder nodded. “You explained to us that this day would come. It saddens us all that our paths must part. Are you sure that you will never be able to return?”
“I wish I could explain the situation further,” said Prince Henry wistfully, “but I cannot. For now, our time among your people must remain a secret to the rest of the world. Perhaps some day, if the people in my homeland change their wicked ways, we will return to this place and share
what we have done here with the entire world.”
The chief frowned. “We do not understand the need for secrecy, but we will respect your decision.”
“Thank you.”
The chief raised his arms. “We will prepare a large feast to celebrate our time together. All of your men are invited to the village tomorrow night for a feast.”
“That would indeed be a great honour,” said Prince Henry. “Thank you. With your permission, may I now share a few words with Na'gu'set?”
The chief nodded and held out an open hand.
Prince Henry motioned to the young green-eyed translator standing respectfully behind the chief. They walked away from the crowd and out along the rocky shore. Behind them the gathering dispersed to the many tasks at hand, including the unloading of the ships. Prince Henry ignored the commotion, and for a time they walked in thoughtful silence. After rounding a point and leaving the view of the busy dock, Prince Henry came to a stop and smiled warmly at his friend.
“Your help is what allowed our mission here to succeed, Na'gu'set. We owe you so much.”
Na'gu'set shook his head. “Since I was a little boy, growing up in the Village of the Teachers, I knew that I would dedicate my life to do the work of the Great Manitou. It has been an honour to work with you and those from the land of the Teachers.”
Prince Henry's smile faded as his forehead wrinkled with concern. He turned and gazed out over the still waters of the bay.
“Glooscap, what is wrong?”
“I have something to ask of you. I fear that it will be a difficult if not impossible task.”
“If it is within my power, I will do whatever you ask.”
Prince Henry grimaced. “You are as loyal a friend to me as any of my Templar comrades.”
“What request could cause you so much concern?”
“Your home, the Village of the Teachers . . . It can no longer exist.”
Na'gu'set turned to him, confused. “My home can no longer exist? I do not understand.”
The prince sighed and looked out to the ocean. “This will be a complicated thing for me to explain. Do you remember when I told you about the many other tribal chiefs to the east, in a place we call Europe?”
“You told me that many were greedy and deceitful. The chiefs, the men you call kings, in the faraway lands killed many of your Templar brethren in order to steal their power and wealth.”
Prince Henry nodded. “After our kings attempted to destroy the Order, they searched all of our castles for our Holy treasures, but we were able to hide everything before they arrived. The kings demanded that their Templar prisoners tell them the location of their wealth. When the knights refused to cooperate, they were burned alive, one by one. They expected at least one knight to betray the Order and reveal the treasure's location. Praise be to God that not one knight ever talked, even while engulfed in flames. To the kings, it seemed the location of the treasure died with the murdered Templar men.”
“But the treasure does live on,” countered Na'gu'set. “I have seen many golden items and pictures being unloaded
onto the island.”
They both looked across the water to the tiny, mangled piece of land. Prince Henry managed a smile.
“Och, aye, the treasure certainly does live on. We could never allow such gifts of God to fall into the hands of a treacherous king. That is why we have brought it here, to this land, a land that exists only in old Nordic legends.”
Na'gu'set frowned. “I'm sorry, my friend. I still do not understand why my village must be destroyed.”
Henry's green eyes glimmered with emotion. “You need to understand . . . this land will not stay secret forever. I don't know if it will be ten, fifty or a hundred years from now but eventually, people from the East will rediscover this beautiful place you call home. When that happens, our work here must remain a secret. The rest of the world must not know of our accomplishment until future Templar leaders feel that the world is worthy of such treasure to once again be revealed.”
Na'gu'set began to nod. “You feel that future explorers from the east might see my village and think that your treasure may be nearby.”
“It's unfortunate coincidence, really. There is no real connection between Oak Island and your ancient Irish village, but someone might interpret it that way and begin searching around the land for religious valuables.”
Na'gu'set set his jaw, turned and walked out to the edge of the lapping waves, staring out into the bay. Seagulls cried overhead while a distant whale, scooping up a huge mouthful of krill, sprayed mist up into the afternoon sky. The weight of the request seemed to round his shoulders.
“The Village of the Teachers was built many generations
ago by my ancestors. My people you call the Irish came to spread the Word of the Great Manitou in this distant land. I don't know what will happen to our purpose if we destroy the village. Will our mission come to an end? What will we do?”
Prince Henry stepped up and placed a hand on Na'gu'set's shoulder. “I would never suggest that a mission as noble ever come to an end, but before I share my idea with you, I would first like you to understand the importance of what we have been doing over on Oak Island. It is time you receive a full tour. I have two other young gentlemen who also deserve a chance to see our work. I think it's time that I introduce you to my friends, Angus and Connor.”