Thor's Haven

by Richard S Young

  She eventually found his desk in the far corner but only because she saw the nameplate on the front of his desk ‘Senior Security Officer V - Lionel DeChevalier’.

  As she placed the file report on his desk, she noticed a perspex paperweight that caught her attention. It was a clear block that had an odd crucifix shape inside it, a cross patteé surrounded with a fleur-de-lis decorative design within a circle, with the legend ‘Prairie de la Brûlée - 16ème mars 1244’ (‘Meadow of the Burned – 16th March 1244’) written around it. She studied it and made a mental note to herself to go and research what was the significance of the cross and what the legend meant.

  14.03pm – 10th April, present day.

  Rama Shresth’s house, Kongamdara Road, Pathanpora, Srinagar, Jammu and Kashmir, India

  Inside Rama’s house, Daniel, Rama and Rifat sat around the large table in the dining room with their notes and a laptop spread all over the surface. Although the wide windows of the dining room afforded a magnificent panoramic view towards the city, its admiration was the last thing on anyone’s mind as the three men tried to compile an accurate record of what they had heard from the lips of Jnyandeep Medhansh less than an hour previously.

  Daniel had spent the car journey back to the house explaining to Rama and Rifat what he could about what they had been told but even then, he was simply struggling to absorb all the information he had been given, let alone comprehend any implications that could be drawn from the intertwined story that Jnyandeep had provided the three of them with. He had carefully written out a list of the names and phrases that he could remember, and with Rifat and Rama’s help, they had agreed what the key words had been.

  ‘Yuz Asaf’, ‘Pertho’, ‘Pergamon’, ‘under the tree,’ ‘naadi jothidam’, ‘Poorva Janma’, ‘Montségur’, ‘Otto Rahn’ and ‘Yggdrasil’.

  Daniel began to jot down the gist of Jnyandeep’s story as best as he could remember and as he did so, Rama and Rifat began searching the internet on Rama’s laptop for information about any of the names. As Daniel finished writing down the tale, he re-read it over and over again, and the more that he did, the more dumbfounded he was becoming. If there was any truth at all in the inter-connecting strands of this story, then his slipping on the ground in the ruins of old Mirpur and the unearthing of a small white stone could have serious implications into the major understandings, beliefs and practices of many differing religions.

  “I’ve finished writing what Jnyandeep told us and I’m going to read it out to you. Correct me as I go along please. Are you ready? asked Daniel. They both nodded in reply.

  “Basically, the story has Jesus Christ being arrested, tried, found guilty and sentenced to death by Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor in Jerusalem. His death was to be by crucifixion, a form of capital punishment where the victim was tied or nailed to a tree or wooden beam and then left there to hang until eventual death from exhaustion and asphyxiation. Jesus was nailed to a wooden cross at a place called Golgotha. He was stabbed in the side with a spear to see if he was dead and then taken down from the cross and buried in a garden tomb originally meant for a man called Joseph of Arimathea. Joseph of Arimathea asked Pontius Pilate for the dead body of Jesus to be returned to him to allow for Mosaic Law to be followed, in that a person hanged on a tree should be buried before sundown. On the third day after his burial, the tomb is found empty by three women who discover a young man, allegedly an angel, sitting within the tomb. This young man tells these three women that Jesus has risen. So far, so good, and that’s the basic story of Jesus Christ’s last few days and his resurrection.”

  “According to Christianity, that’s the story” said Rifat.

  “I know that Rifat, but let’s get down on paper what Jnyandeep told us first of all and then we can talk about the different interpretations both our religions have later. In the tenets of Christianity, Jesus is presumed to have been resurrected and appears to three women at first, then his disciples. Subsequently, Jesus goes on to appear at numerous locations to different people with his final appearance being reported about forty days after the resurrection, when, according to the early Christian scriptures, he is ‘carried up’ into heaven to sit on the right hand side of God. That’s the ascension part of the Jesus story that Christians believe. But Jnyandeep has gone and told us a very different interpretation to that story and one that really causes friction with what the Christian faith believes. The story that he told us earlier suggests that Christ was maybe carried up into heaven, but this heaven was not skywards, but overland, to the Kashmir region and the foothills of the Himalayas. Two thousand years ago, the Himalayas would have seemed like heaven to ordinary men, and apparently, Jesus made his way here to find the lost tribes of Israel. He changed his name to Yuz Asaf, which means Jesus in Hebrew, and lived amongst the people until he died at the age of 120.

  Jnyandeep’s story then turns itself on its head and this is where Rama’s faith of Hinduism really comes into play. Hindus have a system of astrology known as Nadi astrology or naadi jothidam and is based on the firm belief that the past, present and future lives of all humans were written down by the Seven Sages in ancient times. By reading from one’s ‘poorva janma’, your previous birth, one can help yourself in this life and the next. These incarnations were written down on palm leaves or animal skins and then joined together to make books called Nadis. The texts are mainly written in Tamil and Sanskrit but also contain certain symbols and lettering that have baffled philologists for decades as to why they are there or what they mean. And one of these symbols contained in these scripts just so happens to be a Nordic rune called Perth or Pertho. The stone I gave Jnyandeep to look at has the ‘son of god’ written on one side of it in Aramaic, and Perth, the sacred rune of knowledge, is engraved on the other. He references Yggdrasil, the Nordic tree of life, and one story of that very mythology, has Odin, the god of wisdom, stabbing himself in the side with a spear before hanging upon Yggdrasil’s branches, staring into a pool of water below the tree and calling out to some submerged runes to reveal themselves to him. This sacrifice by Odin of himself to himself is finally accepted by the runes and they show themselves to him, revealing not only their true forms, but also their secrets which Odin goes on to share with humankind. Through the act of his own sacrifice, he is reborn. There’s a recurring theme here.”

  Rama interrupted Daniel with his assessment. “I can understand all of the rebirth angles and that certain religions, faiths and beliefs all share very similar stories, but I can’t comprehend why Jnyandeep Medhansh became so animated when he was telling us all of this. It felt like he was getting something off his chest, a burden, that he’s carried with him for years.”

  “I know, Rama. He looked to be glad, almost ecstatic, to be telling us this story. I don’t know the answers, but there’s more to all of this because he kept on mentioning something about ‘under the tree’, Pergamon, Montségur and someone called Otto Rahn. I can’t see what any of these connections are.”

  Rifat suggested they all take a break from the mystery and get something to eat. As they headed towards the kitchen, they didn’t notice that the laptop had finished searching for Pergamon, Montségur, Otto Rahn and the phrase ‘under the tree’. The time was now 16.04pm.

  16.04pm – 10th April, present day.

  Outside Jnyandeep Medhansh’s house, Nalamar Road, Srinagar, Jammu and Kashmir, India

  The watcher waited for Henrique to arrive outside in the street. He was scared of Henrique but hoped that his bit of detective work earlier in the day would impress the man enough to use his services a bit more in the future and also continue to pay him well. The watcher maundered slowly up and down the street while he anxiously waited on Henrique to meet him outside the entrance to Jnyandeep Medhansh’s house. He was somewhat startled when Henrique suddenly appeared on him.

  “Why have you brought me here to this address?” demanded Henrique.

  The w
atcher became flustered, and as he panicked, quickly explained to Henrique what he had discovered concerning Jnyandeep Medhansh. This was a man who might have some important information that Henrique could use. Henrique just scowled at the watcher and told him to be taken to see this man. Henrique followed the watcher along the passage-way then through the door into the court yard. He noticed the fountain to the left as they approached a door entrance. The watcher knocked gently on the wooden door surround. The door was opened by the same young from before, and after a brief discussion, she invited both men into her home and led them along the hallway to the room where the old man sat. She motioned for them to sit down in the seats in front of the old man as she then patted her grandfather’s arm to explain that he had some guests. She asked that they would keep their visit short with her grandfather. It already had been a tiring day for him. After the young woman had left them alone, Henrique pulled his chair close to Jnyandeep and beckoned the old man to tell him what he knew.

  The old man looked at his questioner and asked him if he had faith. Henrique reached inside his jacket and brought out some cable ties. He took one and fastened Jnyandeep’s left wrist to the arm rest of the chair. He repeated the same action with the old man’s right wrist.

  “Last chance for you old man. Tell me what you told your earlier visitors.” The old man just looked Henrique squarely in the eyes and again asked him if he had faith.

  “Go and get the girl!” barked Henrique at the watcher. The watcher left the room for a moment and returned with the girl. She instantly saw that her grandfather had been fastened to the arm-rests of the chair and ran over and tried to remove the restraints. She placed something on the ground before feebly struggling in trying to remove the cable ties from her grandfather’s wrists, and as she did so, Henrique grabbed her by the hair and snapped her head back towards him. As she screamed, Henrique inserted an aerosol can into her mouth.

  “This is the final chance for you old man. Tell me what I want to know or your grand-daughter dies right here in front of you.” Jnyandeep struggled with his bonds as he attempted to get up from his seat to help his grand-daughter.

  “So be it” and Jnyandeep helplessly watched in horror as Henrique depressed the button of the aeorosol can.

  White foam entered into the girl’s mouth, and as she screamed and struggled, the foam began to fill her mouth and throat. The more she resisted, the more of the foam made its way into her mouth. Foam began to bubble from her nostrils as it made its way along her nasal cavities. Her screams were becoming muffled as the foam travelled further down her throat and, as she gasped and gulped for air, her eyes reddened and bulged as every breath she took became more and more labourious. The expanding foam that Henrique had released was the type used by workmen to in-fill gaps in walls and spaces between plasterboard and timber in the construction industry. Although the foam was primarily a fast setting fixative designed to plug gaps and spaces, it worked ruthlessly inside a human being.

  Incapable of lending any form of assistance to her, Jnyandeep painfully watched as his beloved grand-daughter suffocated from the inside out. In her final moments as she writhed on the ground, feebly trying to pull the foam from her mouth, Henrique took another canister from the inside of his jacket. It was a small petrol tin containing the type of fluid used for cigarette lighters. He pulled open the plastic nozzle from the top of the tin and proceeded to pour the clear liquid contents onto the lap of Jnyandeep. Henrique chuckled to himself as he doused the old man’s hair and beard and then emptied the remainder of the tin over the man’s clothes. He took a match from a box, struck it alight and tossed it onto the old man’s lap. As the lit match ignited the fuel and caused Jnyandeep to burst into a ball of flames, Henrique saluted at him and said “Safe passage to your heaven old man, wherever that may be.” and turned around to leave. Henrique noticed something lying on the ground beside the body of the young woman and bent down to pick it up. It was the business card and printout of the stone that Rama had given her earlier. Henrique carefully lifted the business card by its edges and read it. He took his mobile phone from his pocket and photographed both sides of the card and then placed it between the index and middle fingers of the dead girl’s left hand. As he did so, he carefully opened the printout of the stone and its symbols, read its contents and then scanned the material with his mobile phone and forwarded the gathered information to Markus Bruscante to digest. The watcher was now standing motionless and transfixed by the scene before him.

  Henrique could see the reflection of the flames in the wide open eyes of the watcher, and kicked the man hard in the shins. “Move!” he shouted and dragged him out of the room. He closed the door behind him but with a last look before he did, he smiled at the inferno in the chair and the distressed body of the woman lying beside it.

  Henrique liked his handiwork and was proud of his most recent creativity. His role as the Sergite team-leader of the COMBEL cell provided him with everything he needed, or wanted – money, adventure and a sense of purpose whilst giving him what he enjoyed the most, opportunities to inflict pain on others. He was the unexpected product of a very tempestuous and violent relationship between a French mother and an Algerian father living together in the district of La Savine, one of the northernmost estates in the city of Marseille in France. With a high percentage of the population coming from a blend of North Africans, Africans, Asians and Roma, he had grown up in the poorest district of the poorest city in France and had been exposed to social misery and despair all through his formative years. Almost 40 percent of the people residing in La Savine live well below the poverty line, compared to 26 percent in Marseille as a whole and 15 percent nationally, and as a result, Henrique had had a difficult upbringing, and often in urban squalor. In the richer, mostly white, areas south of Marseille’s city centre, the risk of dying before the age of 65 is 23 percent below the national average. In north Marseille, it was over 30 percent higher than the French average and Henrique knew that if he wished to live a life, he had to remove himself from La Savine.

  For those being raised in the La Savine district, life begins with failure and rejection at school that leads to a lack of prospects and employment that in turn fuels despair, degradation and deprivation. The youth see no future for themselves and they live for the present, in a world of gangs, drugs, criminality, easy money and violence. Henrique had fallen into this cycle at the age of 11 when he had witnessed his father rape, then brutally murder, his mother in front of him. He had escaped from his father’s abusive clutches and had lived amongst an ever-growing number of itinerant children on the sordid streets of a bustling metropolis.

  Falling into the gang culture with consummate ease, he had got involved with ‘règlements de compte’ or ‘tit for tat killings’ that pervaded the many turf disputes of the city and that, for him, the taking of a life meant nothing and death was just an unfortunate statistic. But his own participation in the relentless violence was spiraling out of control and he knew that his time on earth was running out. He desperately yearned to be a citizen. The opportunity for him to remove himself from his own path of destruction presented itself by serving in the French Foreign Legion. He became a highly trained infantry soldier focused on the traditional military skills it offered while enjoying its strong esprit de corps by working within a team of men that was assembled from many different countries and all with very different experiences and cultures. Completion of this service for France had initially led him to enjoying the financial rewards of mercenary work as a military contractor and then gravitated to frequent employment with The Path of Belibasta. His military skills and talents saw him rise to prominence through the continual use of the group he worked for, and he began to believe that he was doing God’s work. Over time, he had become steadfastly devoted to the faith of The Path of Belibasta and its beliefs and that it was a just and righteous cause that he staunchly believed in. He had found purpose for his life, and coupled with his mixe
d-race hue, his skin colour made him an asset that could be readily deployed in many European, African, middle-eastern and Asian territories with an ease that had resulted in him excelling in diligently providing lethal and effective solutions to arising problems. Markus Bruscante, on learning of Henrique’s endeavours, had become impressed with his service, and faith to the cause, and promoted him to be his Sergite to lead COMBEL, the flagship field operations team of The Path of Belibasta.

  Markus Bruscante opened the message from Henrique and stared at the scanned image of the white stone and notes. The contents disturbed him greatly and with Easter fast approaching, The Path of Belibasta had traditionally controlled the celebration of the event by all of the various Christian faiths by suppressing any alternate interpretations from the possibility of surfacing – although primarily defined as a Christian holiday, Easter had many of its roots in the traditions and rituals of the various pagan peoples who had inhabited Europe before its widespread conversion to the Christian faith. Scholars believed that Easter was named after ‘Eostre’, the pagan goddess of the spring, and was a festival observed in her honour at the vernal equinox. He recognised the writing and that one side of the stone featured a rune, an ancient Germanic alphabet derived from the Roman alphabet and used extensively in the pagan times of Western Europe and Scandinavia from the 3rd Century AD to the end of the Middle-Ages. Each and every character of this runic alphabet was also believed to have a magical significance of some form.

  As one of the oldest of the Christian traditions, the celebration of the last week of Jesus’ life, his death, and his resurrection, Easter symbolised the dawn of a new life and the high point of the Christian calendar, but for some of the ancient faiths, it meant something more. The Path of Belibasta could not have the basic tenets of the Christian concept of Easter being tarnished with the sudden appearance of a white stone with a pagan symbol upon it that threw many aspects of its belief and faith into doubt. This stone must be retrieved and the finders effaced before a heresy could manifest itself upon the religious world that he oversaw.