by D. N. Carter
“Where is Philip?” Alisha asked as she looked around all of them as they pulled their small wooden chairs closer to the fire Tenno was stoking.
“I do not know. He must have gone inside. Here, sit with Nicholas… make sure he drinks some of that whilst I take this little man to bed. I shall find my father,” Paul said as he indicated toward the space beside Nicholas, who looked so weary and tired but smiled, his lips still split and sore.
“Really?” Alisha asked in a very low whisper.
Paul nodded yes and raised Arri, who was now fast asleep, toward her. Tenno quickly rubbed his hand over Arri’s head as Alisha kissed him goodnight.
“I will sit awhile with him in case he wakes confused.”
Paul walked silently and carefully along the top corridor toward Arri’s bedroom. It had been a long and eventful day for him. Laughter rang out from Thomas and his men as they passed some joke about Percival he could not hear, and as he passed by his own work studio, he heard muffled sobbing. He stepped very slowly toward the door which was ajar and could just see his father sat sobbing holding the picture Paul had drawn of his mother in his right hand, his left hand covering his eyes. A knot instantly pulled tight in Paul’s stomach and his heart beat fast. As the candle flickered away on the work desk, Philip continued to sob in waves, stopping for a moment, and then starting again. Paul looked down at Arri fast asleep in his arms, then back at his father. Slowly he backed away from the door and took Arri to his bedroom. Gently he laid him upon his bed and looked around for Clip clop before realising Arri had it stuffed down his shirt all along. Gently he took it out and placed it beside him as he pulled up the single cotton sheet to cover him. He kissed him on his forehead. Arri opened his eyes momentarily, squeezed Clip clop tightly in his hand then turned on his side.
“Love you, Papa,” he said quietly and immediately went back to sleep.
Paul’s heart physically ached for the love he felt for this little man laying before him. Is this how his own father had felt for him and Stewart? he wondered. He recalled a statement his father had told years ago about gratitude. ‘Gratitude is one of the least to articulate of the emotions, especially when it is deep.’ How true those words felt at that moment. He felt guilty as he had been cold toward his father simply because he felt he had hidden so many things from him, such as having an elder brother, his uncle no less, but now, as he looked at Arri, he knew in his heart he would do and say anything to protect him. He shuddered as he recalled the reoccurring dream where Arri was sat shivering in the cold calling out “Father”. He shook his head to clear that thought, kissed Arri again and left his room. He approached his study door and listened. His father was no longer sobbing. He pushed the door open more to check he was still in there.
“Ah Paul…this,” Philip said quietly and lifted up the drawing. “This gives me great comfort. More than you can imagine.”
Paul gulped seeing the emotion in his father’s eyes.
“Is it the likeness of her?” Paul asked as he sat opposite him.
Philip took a deep breath, paused for a moment as he studied the picture again then smiled broadly. He went to speak but held himself in check as to speak, he knew he would cry again. He gulped hard, coughed to clear his throat and sighed again as he sat up straight.
“My son, very few things in this life shock or surprise me any more…but this…this is truly amazing. I cannot believe how accurately you have captured her in all her beauty and character. I had almost forgotten just how much I really still miss her,” he explained, coughed with emotion again and took in another deep breath.
“Then, please, take this as a gift from me for all you have done.”
“Oh I have not done anywhere near enough for you,” Philip replied and looked at Paul; tears welled in his eyes. “This, all of this you have here, ’tis but material only…and there is so much more I should have taught you.”
Paul looked at his father, the candle casting shadows in the lines around his face. He had a kind and gentle face yet he had seen so much bloodshed and done so many things in his life he could only but imagine.
“Father…I love you,” Paul said and clasped his father’s hands, something he had never done since he was a small child. “I love you and I thank you.”
Without a word Philip leaned forward and pulled Paul close and hugged him tightly.
Port of La Rochelle, France, Melissae Inn, spring 1191
“He was truly blessed to have such a father…unlike ours eh?” the Templar commented and nudged his brother.
Gabirol looked at the old man intently then smiled. He was sure he knew now who the old man actually was. The old man could see and sense the realisation in Gabirol’s eyes and acknowledged him with a slight nod but then shook his head no as if to dismiss his thoughts.
“Well I am sure you will make a great father one day,” Miriam stated and pulled the Templar’s hand close to her chest, the Templar smiling at her remark.
“Only then did Paul start to fully appreciate all that his father had done for him and the sacrifices he had obviously made over the years. His own love for Arri made it abundantly clear the depths of love a father can have for his children,” the old man said and coughed.
“So did Philip teach Paul all the extra details about the bees…and his coat of arms?” Gabirol asked.
“Yes he did. He explained much in fact to both him and Taqi together. It was almost like the days when they were children again being taught by Philip.”
“Are you going to tell us what else he taught them?” Simon asked.
“I can briefly, for some of you may have need to understand it as your lives continue forward,” the old man answered and looked at the Templar, the Hospitaller and then at the wealthy tailor and Gabirol in turn.
“I shall prepare some more food for I have heard this before,” Stephan said as he stood up to leave the room.
“How come he has heard all this before then?” Sarah asked, puzzled.
“He can tell you that in his own time…but for now I can tell you more on the bee and fleur de lys,” the old man said softly.
“I want to know about his coat of arms…but are they not family emblems?” Simon asked.
“They are not specific to a family alone. A coat of arms is a set of emblems to distinguish upon a shield an individual, especially when fully armoured and upon the field of battle,” the old man explained. “But the bee and the fleur de lys symbolism… that was a different matter as I shall explain.” The old man sat in silence as he pondered how best to explain the details. Eventually he pulled out a small piece of parchment with a small drawing showing three images. One of a bee, one of a stylised bee and one of a fleur de lys.
Fig. 57: Bee to fleur de lys.
“The Merovingians viewed the honey bee as sacred, as I have already explained. Over three hundred golden bees were known to have been stitched into Childeric’s burial cloak. Clovis’s wife Clotilde of the Burgundians and Bornholm encouraged the emblem’s use. The Burgundians came down from Burgunderland after AD 100 where many Templar round churches are to be found. The honey bee became stylised into the fleur de lys by the French court only this century. Philip explained all of this to Paul and Taqi. He also explained that the hexagonal honeycomb was almost geometrically perfect, magical in its use for building, and industry, and that it also esoterically represents Mary. The fleur de lys already appears on many coats of arms now, in Spain, Bosnia and the City of Florence…and, Gabirol, that is one growing place of enlightenment I strongly advise you to visit,” the old man said and paused again before continuing. “But Philip also taught them, with Theodoric assisting as he liked to do…huh, Philip had no choice actually,” the old man laughed. “That the fleur de lys also represents the ‘Tree of Life’, which descends to the Netherworld with its roots, as in the so-called hell. The fleur de lys is frequently found in Ancient Egyptian artefacts. In Ancient Egyptian constellations there is a connection between Osiris, who is identified with the K
abalistic Tree of Life because in many of their oldest texts, The Tree of Life grew out of the Sacred Mound, its branches reaching out and supporting the stars and planet studded sky, while its roots reached down into the watery abyss of the Netherworld. The trunk of the Tree of Life represented the World Pillar or Axis Munde, literally ‘Axis of the Mound’, around which the heavens appeared to revolve. The World Pillar was the centre of the universe. The Ancient Egyptian symbol for ‘plant’ meaning ‘Tree of Life’ was three sacred lotus lilies. They have three stems curving to the left as though blown into life by the breath of Hu, the Celestial Sphinx. On top of each stem is the lotus flower, which was used in Ancient Egypt to represent life and resurrection. It is from this hieroglyph that the fleur de lys in part traces its origin. Their god Osiris, in his earliest Axis Munde form of a tamarisk tree trunk, was called Djed. His later mummy wrappings were symbolic of his having been encased inside a tree trunk. His mummy was therefore an Axis Munde…When Osiris was enclosed in the trunk of a tamarisk tree, which was later cut down and used as a pillar in the palace of the King of Byblos, he metaphorically became as one with the Tree of Life. Osiris became the Axis Munde. He became the World Pillar, the link between the terrestrial and celestial worlds. He held the heavens in his outstretched arms, and he soaked up the word of God from the waters of the Netherworld. In Ancient Egypt the Netherworld was called the ‘Netterworld’, meaning the ‘world of the gods’. The gods had their home among the stars. The fleur de lys is modelled after the lotus in Egypt that was associated with the Nile Lily. The Nile is where a sacred brotherhood had originated that brought its secrets to Jerusalem. Therefore it was only fitting that they would choose an Ancient Egyptian symbol for a plant meaning Tree of Life that was three sacred lotus lilies as their own symbol. It is the fleur de lys that has now replaced the lily as a symbol of royalty of this same said brotherhood. You will find this symbol throughout history as an ornament on the crowns, sceptres, thrones, seals and coins of not only French kings, but also on Greek, Roman, German, English, Spanish, Egyptian, Syrian and Babylonian Kings…”
“I know that the great Charlemagne had imperial bees,” Gabirol interrupted.
“That is true also. The fleur de lys is also known as the water rose…,” the old man stated and paused as he looked at them all in turn to emphasise that fact. “The lotus or water-rose is the flower sacred to the lux, or the sul, or the sun. The ‘Auriflamme’…the flame of fire, or fire of gold, which was the earliest standard of France. It was afterwards called Oriflamme. The lily has also become the favourite attribute of the Virgin Mary. How long that will remain, who knows? But know this also, that before 1130, there were no such things as coats of arms…the first use of the fleur de lys appeared on the shield only under Philippe Auguste. On a stained glass window in Chartres there’ll be a fleur de lys. The seals of Philip Augustus have a single fleur de lys on the reverse as from 1180. Before that, from 1050 at least, the seals of French kings show them sitting, holding a sceptre in their left hand and what looks like a fleur de lys in their right hand. The head of the sceptre is a lozenge, but often the fleurons on the crown, three of them, look like fleur de lys. I have explained already how Philip influenced the king of France to adopt the fleur de lys as an emblem when all other sovereigns of Europe choose animals. The flower has now acquired a strong religious meaning, either Christian or Marial under the influence of Saint Bernard and the emblem symbolises both royal dignity and Christian piety. But there is more,” the old man said and smiled before continuing. “The fleur de lys is also known as the Merovingian Lily, and is a very sacred symbol of the goddess Juno, the Lilly Maid, mother of the war god, Mars. It was also used by the early Gauls and the powerful Salian Frankish dynasty that reigned across France from AD 481 to 751. The fleur de lys also has martial as well as religious connotations. The Roman Catholic Church decrees that it should be the emblem of the Virgin Mary and therefore by default, symbolic of the Holy bloodline, or Sangraal without even realising that fact, while the three petals of its flower represent not only the Holy Trinity, but also the Christian values of faith, wisdom and chastity. However, the lily’s meaning holds striking duality and affinity to Mars, as well as the values of war…the military often interpreting its shape into that of an ornate, upright spearhead indicating power, fearsome force and brute strength.”
8 - 11
“So how does this go with the image you show us of a bee transforming into a lily?” Peter asked as he studied the small drawing.
“Through sacred geometry…and it may surprise you to learn that the design is also found in the Islamic mosque. Intriguingly, the mystical dimension of Islam known as Sufism maintains a secret brotherhood called Sarmoung, or Sarman, meaning bee. Members of the organisation view their role as collecting the precious ‘honey’ of wisdom and preserving it for future generations.”
“Like that Attar Sufi…yes?” Simon asked.
“Absolutely yes, Simon,” the old man replied.”
Cairo, Egypt, April 14th 1183
Thomas and his men, along with Ishmael, Percival and Nyla, had retired to their chambers for the night leaving the remainder sat around the ornate wooden table in the main living room. Tenno fidgeted trying to make himself comfortable.
“My son, I have hidden items away in Alba, in the village of Balantrodach as I have said…,” Philip said quietly and handed Paul a parchment tube. He took it and noted that both ends were sealed. “Inside are details on how to reach a place we have named Oak Island off the shore of the new lands in the west. Much of what was recovered in Jerusalem has been moved there. But I have also drawn up your own coat of arms.”
“Why do I need a coat of arms?” Paul asked, puzzled. “I am no knight nor do I intend to be.”
“’Tis written in your parchments…remember?” Theodoric said as Taqi nodded in agreement.
“But I had a choice to be one or not…and I choose not to be,” Paul replied, shaking his head as Alisha approached with some nightcap drinks.
“Yes…you have a choice, but should you ever need it, then you have your coat of arms,” Philip explained as Alisha knelt down beside Paul and started to pass around the small bright blue glasses.
“’Tis an acknowledged honour to be granted your own coat of arms…,” Nicholas said, clearly very tired, his eyes heavy and half closed.
“Come on, my friend. ’Tis well past your bedtime,” Upside said as he stood up and started to lift Nicholas to his feet. “We shall leave these good people in peace to catch up on family matters.”
“You can stay if you wish for you are as family to me,” Paul stated as Upside ushered Nicholas to the stairs.
“No…this one needs rest,” Upside replied. Nicholas simply raised his hand goodnight as he was led away.
“Can I see your coat of arms?” Alisha asked as she sat down upon her knees, then knelt closer to Paul, looking up at him.
“Can I open this?” Paul asked. Philip nodded yes. Paul twisted the end cap breaking the wax seal, pulled the crimson coloured binding tape and removed the cap. Gently he pulled out the various parchments and laid them out on the wooden table. A white vellum sheet unrolled to reveal a delicately executed painting and part embroidered image depicting apples, bees, acorns and a key. “I think this is obviously it.”
“’Tis beautiful,” Alisha remarked as she studied it closely. She looked at Paul with pride but also a sense of dread and the hope that he would never need use of it.
Fig. 58: Paul’s coat of arms.
“The other parchments detail the projections of constellations, mainly Virgo over our present and soon to be built cathedrals in France, but also ancient sites across Greece and Italy where ancient Omphalus stones are located. They relate to the Ancient Egyptian Magan boat, the same as Jason and the Argonaut…but you need not understand what or how…just protect and guard them. Also the locations where Mary came ashore in France, where she had her daughter but also where she had her later son too on Iona,” Phil
ip explained.
Paul moved the parchments and studied the maps briefly. He went to pick up a small candle but Taqi quickly handed him a larger lanthorn.
“You do not want to be spilling wax upon them,” he said with a smile. “And I bet you will wish to know everything about them too.”
“Yes, that I will,” Paul replied and looked closer at the parchments. “I see a lot of markers in Alba.”
Philip laughed as he sat forwards and winked at Theodoric.
“’Tis the origin of much that unfolds,” Philip replied.
“Or should unfold,” Theodoric interrupted as Sister Lucy entered the room.
“’Twas a place of special significance to your mother…as you now know,” Philip said and looked at Paul.
“Why?” Tenno asked bluntly.
“A long story, my friend. A very long story,” Theodoric answered.
“Good. We have all night,” Tenno replied.
“In short,” Theodoric laughed, “Jesus and members of his family went to ancient Caledonia, or Alba as you know it. The actual ancestors of Jesus were of Celtic and Hebraic origin and although his immediate family came from the gentiles of Galilee, their earlier roots originated in the British Isles…specifically ancient Caledonia. Jesus’s family lineage and the Celtic Royal household of ancient Britain can be found in documents found in London, though presently sealed away. It is hoped that one day, in the future, they will again be revealed and confirmed. As you know, coats of arms belong to specific individuals and families and there is no such thing as a coat of arms for a family name. They are borne by individuals as Philip said…as marks of their identification. The proclamation and organisation of tournaments was the chief function of heralds originally. They marshalled and introduced the contestants and helped keep a tally of the score. The knights taking part in tournaments are recognised by the arms they display upon their shields and the crests they wear upon their helmets. Have you not noticed all of Thomas’s men have them?” Theodoric explained and asked as he looked at Paul intently. “Heralds require expert knowledge for recording arms, and for controlling their use. As coats of arms are hereditary, with slight additions and changes for each successive individual, heralds have come to add expertise in genealogy to their skills. This had a direct bearing on the presence of Joseph of Arimathea and a key Apostolic mission in ancient Britain, the ramifications behind his Christian movement in the British Isles are far reaching indeed and many of his symbols and emblems have likewise been recorded and kept safe…just as yours must be…so that in the future, your bloodlines can again be recognised for who you are and where you come from.”