The Round Table Pt. 2 of 4

Chapter 2

Martin Remembers Something

"The Jews!"

Martin shouted. “That’s who it was. It was the dirty rotten Jews. Can’t trust them, they’re low down good for nothings. I’m pretty sure that’s who’s behind this, all of it. We should have burned down their houses when we had a chance.”

“Hold on a moment,” John replied. “I remember the Jews and have no quarrel with them.  And I do not appreciate you speaking of them in such a manner.”

“I agree. That is no charitable Christian statement,” Simon says. “I fear, I must ask you what beliefs you hold before I can continue this conversation.” Although details of his personal life were still very vague, Simon’s convictions were still strong within him.

“I for one do not understand a what is going on and why we should blame the Jews,” a new voice said. Everyone turned. Standing in the corner was a thickly bearded fellow in a three piece Victorian suit that fit his large frame comfortably.

“I’m afraid to ask you, but who are you?” Simon asked this time. Those around the table were growing uncomfortable with these sudden appearances. Jack glanced around and noted that the room was now no more crowded than when they had begun. He made a mental note of the oddity, then smiled. What else could be expected in a room made to house amnesic strangers.

“Charles,” the man replied, quite quickly and assuredly. “I’ve been standing there for a few moments getting my wits and it seems that we all were called here unknowingly. I don’t understand how this is all possible, but why would you suggest Jews?” Charles turned toward Martin. “I hardly remember any Jews in my area. And none of them would bother a Clergyman. They are peaceful folk.”

“A clergyman, you say?” John said. The term struck a familiar tone and instantly John felt that there might be a connection here. He and Simon both looked this new comer over carefully. Both of them noted the distinct odor of tobacco emanating from his clothing. They looked disapprovingly as the man reached inside his coat and pulled out a cigar.

“What is that?” asked Martin curiously. He watched as Charles lit the cigar with a match from his vest.

“You mean to tell me you have never seen a cigar before?” asked Jack curiously.

Martin nodded. John and Simon seemed equally confused.

“No tobacco where you come from?” Charles asked. “We’ve had it for centuries, I do believe.”

“So you remember something about where you are from. That’s good, very good.” Simon said excitedly. “Where do you come from then?”

“I don’t know. Strangely, I can remember random things, but nothing useful or orderly.” His brows knotted in frustration.

“I remember the taste of a good beer,” Jack replied. “Ah, a nice cool lager in a pub. That I could use right now. Pity there isn’t any about.”

“Liquor? I doubted this strange man; with his clergy claim and smelly habits. But you I do not understand at all, Jack. Most of those here have the air of officials; leaders even, but you do not,” Martin had taken up the conversation, Jews forgotten for the moment. “Simon has quite the feel of a clergyman, and John I feel is even familiar to me somehow. But you,” he paused. “And Charles, both seem off to me. Different somehow. You do not seem true Clergymen.”

John and Simon nodded. They too felt a greater similarity with each other than with Charles and Jack. Simon stroked his beard slowly, trying to come up with a more logical solution for their current state of events.

“I believe we have the Catholics to blame for this,” Simon stated. “They do not have any love lost on me, if I am remembering correctly. I seem to remember them having been after me before for some reason or another.”

“And I,” Martin said. “I remember something about them as well. I do believe that I was a Catholic. But I am not anymore, of this I am most certain. When I left it started quite the uproar. Heretic, yes that’s the term. Heretic they called me. Is there a Catholic priest in our midsts?” Martin and Simon looked at Charles, who shook his head gravely. Next they looked at Jack.

“Seriously? You would even consider the fact that I might qualify as a Catholic priest? I don’t know where you come from friends, but I am not remotely qualified as priest in the Catholic Church.” Both Simon and Martin nodded, then turned their attention towards John.

“Hold on now. I have had my own disagreements with the Catholic Church, but they helped me hunt down at least one true heretic,” John interrupted. “ ‘Sir Vetus’ or someone of that title. I remember only some of the details. He disagreed with our view of the Holy Trinity and was against infant baptism. I wanted the man skewered with a sword for his words. However someone, I can’t remember who, wouldn’t let me.”

“I would hope not,” Simon answered. His face was flushed and he responded quickly. “I had thought you to be the most similar to myself, but I see you hold views that nearly killed others who believe as I do about baptism. Now it is you whom I doubt.”

Charles and Jack also looked appalled at the mention of the attempted martyring of this Sir Vetus. Martin looked thoughtfully at the grave man named John who was so sure in his convictions. He then turned and faced Simon. Both men seemed convicted that the other held a dangerous view. Simon was no longer flushed. Instead, his face was drawn and pale. He had his eyes closed, as if remembering some traumatic event that had occurred before this room and it’s memory altering effects. Slowly, Martin turned back towards the other men in the room.

“I understand how you feel, John,” Martin said finally. “Even though I do not know this Sir Vetus, I understand your firm convictions. I also know is that I have a similar feeling toward the evil Jews who inhabit our lands. They do not wish to repent and convert, therefore they deserve to die. They are indeed the worst kind of men.”

This came as a blow to Simon, who up to this point had viewed both John and Martin as the closest allies in the room. Jack shook his head at this turn of events and slowly adjusted the aged hat he wore. Charles leaned heavily against the wall in his corner and wondered why five men so different would be put in the same building, much less the same small room. Slowly, Charles straightened himself out and prepared to speak.