“True,” said Sól, a bit embarrassed. “In any case, a week later, my great-grandmother was free, and the drunkard was dead. So, yes, we might be ‘eccentric’ in that our dogs have silver sheaths in their fangs, in our perhaps unusual interest in the occult, in our rather unorthodox ties to academia—but we are archaeologists. And we’re not Wotanists. Fortunately for you, we do not write off any archaeological lead as myth until we check it thoroughly either. Schliemann found Troy assuming the Iliad was no myth, when everyone else discounted it as such, so…”
“True enough—and my excuses for our initial lack of trust,” replied Haim. “My point, however, was that, regardless of the cuneiform who suggests the engraving on that gold sheet is probably over forty centuries old, we still don’t know how old the silver cylinder might be, do we?”
“No, we don’t,” admitted Sól. “Could be far more recent that the scroll. Why?”
“The Zohar of Kabbalah speaks about Lilith as well, but it is two centuries older than the Alphabet of Ben Sirath. In the Zohar, Azazel—the demon for which a scapegoat, a goat bearing the sins of the Jewish people, was sent into the desert as sacrifice during Yom Kippur (also, according to Enoch, Azazel was a fallen angel, one of the leaders of the rebel angels, the Watchers, and a bearer of forbidden knowledge)—is supposed to have told men about the arts of war, the making of swords, shields, knives, coats of mail, and taught women the arts of deception by wearing makeup; and, to both, the arts of witchcraft, corrupting human ways (Enoch 10:8 says “to him ascribe all sin”) until G-d sent the Archangel Raphael, to bind him to a mountain, awaiting in darkness Judgment Day, when he should be condemned to the eternal flames. Azazel (which is not the same as Azrael, the angel of destruction and renewal) is also said to be the seed of Lilith, the original source of witchcraft—and seems to fit the description of a vampire to some extent.”
“And what does that have to do with the golden scroll or the cylinder?” asked Tony.
“Well, I’m trying to remember what I know about Lilith in case it might help…?” answered apologetically Haim.
“Please do continue, Haim” Sól encouraged him.
“Alright. The Talmud (dated from the beginning of the V century to the end of the VI century CE) mentions Lilith a few times: a female, winged, demon, with long hair, who existed at the time of Adam’s fall; a demon who stole his semen while he slept, to procreate more demons; a demon who preys on newborns and women near the time of childbirth, causing stillbirths and such.
The Testament of Solomon, an apocryphal set of texts, possibly three centuries earlier, says Lilith—who it calls Abyzou, in this case a sterile demon with many names—would kill unprotected children at birth, leading to miscarriages, a demon invoked by envy; and of course, since the entire Testament is supposedly about how King Solomon built his temple by commanding demons—a bit like the Lord of the Rings—using a magical ring given him by the Archangel Michael, King Solomon partly dominates Lilith by binding her hair to the temple. The Shield of Solomon, the Star of Solomon, has five vertices, like the symbol of necromancers, the witches Pentagram—and was supposed to serve as his protection against demons. So it has one less vertex than the Shield of David, our Star of David.
In Isaiah, which dates from the earlier seventh century BCE, Lilith is called by name, and becomes the symbol of all those who shall be damned to hell on Judgment Day, while Eve represents the righteous who then shall attain bliss.
There are other references to Lilith, made tenuous by archaeological dating: raging positivists would accept Moses living on the mid-thirteenth century BC in Canaan, although they don’t, of course, believe Exodus literally; nor do they accept the Egyptian captivity, citing things like Qadesh-Barnea—now near the border of Egypt and Israel, the most fertile oasis in northern Sinai—where the Israelites lived for thirty eight years according to the Bible. That settlement can at best be pushed back to 1000BC, most probably 600BC or so; and the first writings of the Torah dating from Amos and Hosea, in northern Israel around 800BC, most definitely during the Babylonian captivity in 586BC. And in the Torah—the “first five books” of your Bible—Moses curses the serpent co-created with Adam, animated by a foul mist, the temptress of Adam and Eve, the basis for adulterous wives in Numbers 5…” Haim paused, to take a breath.
“Ah, yes…” said a serene voice, from someone appearing behind Haim.
Feeling on his left shoulder the sudden soft pressure of a long-nailed hand wearing a thick gold ring with a massive blue diamond, Haim jumped, startled, and became pale as wax.
“The temptress!” said Countess Chloé. “We independent women have been brutalized by history, especially since the times of Hammurabi, the old fool. As Proverbs 22:15 says: ‘A nod to the wise if sufficient; the fool requires a blow’”
“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t noticed you had arrived, Countess,” apologized Haim, making room for her.
“Don’t worry! Given the misogynist tenor of much of what is said about Lilith, one of these days, you, all of the testicled persuasion, should be made to apologize to her in person,” the Countess said chuckling. “Before I leave for Paris, however, I just wanted to reiterate: should any of you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask Pierre. For now, à bientôt!” she reiterated, waved goodbye, and, in a heartbeat, was gone.
“So what else is there on the Torah about Lilith we might use, Haim?” asked Sól, visibly uncomfortable with her train of thought having been interrupted.
“Well, in one the most disgraceful episodes in Jewish history, that of the golden calf, aside from the good being bad, the bad being good, and what not, and the parables on the parables, and the comments, the erev rav—the mob of Egyptian unbelievers tagging along with the Israelites, hollering that Moses must be dead because he wasn’t coming from the mountain on time because they hadn’t counted one day, and so on—some commentators believe those erev rav were inspired by evil.
The same commentators also believe the lust, murder and abominations Moses found when he came back had been designed to disgrace the people of Israel in the eyes of G-d. Some have posited that the breaking of the Tables of the Law by Moses could have been a means to save his people: the Tables were the “marriage contract” between the people of Israel and G-d; by breaking the ‘contract’ Moses made the punishment fit that of an ‘unmarried woman’, less severe than that of a ‘married’ one. I’m sure the Countess would have something to say on the subject.
But, for the matter at hand, behind all this discord, the idolatry, criminality, carnal pleasures, effusion of blood, many also sense the hand of Lilith, the serpent.”
“Going over that seems has left you rather stressed, Haim, ” said David.
“Well, when you are progressive, you have to deal with those who honor the best of their faith, as much by their deeds as by observance; and those who are confused, and ask you probing questions, but also the occasional asshole who thinks he can outsmart you by simply offending you. So, I study all I can. When you are more dogmatic, you tend to self-select; and, in that sense, your life becomes easier,” snarked Haim.
“Well,” said Siegfried, “can we tell them, then? Sól?”
“Can you tell us…what?” said David, Tony and Haim at the same time.
“Inside the cylinder…there are pieces…of stone…unlike…most pieces of stone; pieces of stone…supposedly…from Mount Sinai…that flew away…when Moses hurled the Tables to the ground, shattering them. These pieces look like pieces of regular stone…syenogranitic…as per our analysis…density 2.693 grams per cubic centimeter…”
“The tube contained what…?” said Haim, dropping on a chair Tony shoved behind him, preventing him from falling on his behind. Both he and David mumbled a few things the others did not understand ending in ‘–einu’ or something similar. “This is a joke, right? You’re pulling our legs, aren’t you? You should not disrespect…” started Haim before he began sobbing uncontrollably and covering his eyes.
; David’s eyes were like hardboiled eggs. “I don’t know what to say. I don’t have the slightest idea what to say. Is this a joke…or is it f-ff-for real?” he stuttered, then dropping back on his own chair.
“Well, we cannot confirm or deny anything unless we check the stratigraphic data, which our robots are matching up now. Presently, I would tell this to no one, for obvious reasons,” suggested Sól. “If the precise point of origin of this stone in the mountain were pinpointed…. You know…that mountain is sacred…to all Abrahamic religions. The stones apparently were saved as a promise to never again cast a golden calf or idol of the sort. But I need to know more. Hieroglyphs are simple to read, but cuneiforms are a little more laborious. It also seems there were at least five people who engraved this gold plate, and one of them was dyslexic. I need more time. Go explore the Grande Grotte, do some horseback riding, read, have a siesta, peruse on of our libraries, visit the Egyptian Room if you prefer. This should take a while.”
“But…” objected Tony.
“Certain things cannot be rushed,” shrugged Siegfried. Tony nodded in support.
Soon after, dragging their feet, David, Tony and Haim eventually acquiesced and left, slipping several times as they climbed the stairs back to the breakfast room.
“I need to think,” Tony said.
“I need to pray,” said Haim.
“I need some fresh air,” said David, fanning his face with both hands. Looking for an exit, however, he wandered off and got lost. And all too embarrassed to ask, he kept exploring some of the castle’s more than three hundred rooms, all the while dodging Irène’s lascivious giggles. After a very close encounter, he sped up his exploratory meandering and, finally finding a porte-cochère leading to one of the gardens, decided to go visit open spaces, clearly illuminated and full of people.
Relieved, he then went to see the vineyards, where he found irrefutable evidence Irène was a true nymphomaniac. Seeing David arrive, polite as ever, Pierre—who was behind a cart full of vine clippings, and having a most intimate connection with her—asked him if he needed anything, without losing his rhythmic pelvic cadence in the slightest.
Looking away, David just managed to say: “No, thank you. As you were!” and scampered away, trying to make his trot look more like leisure walking.
After putting some distance, at a more leisurely pace, he then visited one of the large oak forests, l’orangerie—where not only oranges, but lemons, tangerines and also odd types of grapefruits, many in full bloom, exhaled a most stupendously enveloping perfume—and even dared checking the lavish family pantheon, thankful for the relief from the scorching Provençale sun shining outside the marbled hall provided.
That notwithstanding, in case Severian might have there any relatives in residence, David cut that visit short—on the excuse he finally remembered he was claustrophobic—but not before taking a very good look at the monumental place. Most corridors were ample, with columns tall as three men, several ponderous candelabra, countless heraldic images, saints, armored chevaliers, dragons and griffons, gold, marble and granite in profusion. Some of the tombs had artfully arranged flower bouquets—all, as the entire place, immaculate, shiny, marvelously kept.
Paradoxically, in this place where he had all the privacy in the world, missing Deborah and the kids, he started resenting the stupid cellular radio silence now imposed on him like never before. So, after a small self-pep talk, he gathered enough courage to find Pierre again, and ask him if any system with at least a decent VPN was available at the castle, so he could to talk to his family without giving out his GPS location.
Fortunately, when he did find him, Irène was nowhere near and Pierre diligently took him to a room full of computers, where Haim also was, a bit more serene now, already checking with Becky how things were on her end.
When they both were done talking to their wives, taking advantage of Tony’s absence, constantly looking around, David began: “This might be an old joke. That not just possible, but even probable?”
“Yes! Or a deception—not from our hosts, though: a rather old one, instead. You are afraid of the winds that could crop up if Catatumbo stops? I’d say: make sure your Faith is very firmly fastened, my friend. When they finish reading whatever this abomination might be, we might have very violent headwinds, if we want to keep living the way we lived before,” sighed Haim.
“You mean this can be evil, like witchcraft and all that nonsense?” asked David.
“Well, until a few days ago, we were sure vampires existed only in lore and novels, right? We were like fish saying lampreys are folk tales, or sharks saying cookie cutter sharks don’t exist. Now I don’t know anymore...”
Instants after Haim finished saying this, Pierre came back. “Messieurs,” said he, “excuse me for interrupting, but lunch would be served soon, if you’re interested.”
Neither of them required any convincing to follow him.
The Provençale air apparently had a marvelous effect on the visitors’ appetite for both food and news, leading to an animated discussion and a long, gargantuan lunch, which seemingly satisfied everyone’s stomach but left everyone’s mind famished for answers.
After lunch, Tony and Haim felt quite lethargic, so they opted for a reinvigorating siesta. David, instead, decided to, at the same time challenge his claustrophobia and stay away from Irène’s relentless advances.
So he asked Pierre how to visit the Grand Grotte while making sure none of the maids would follow him. Incredulous, Pierre first asked whether he had said: “none of the maids would”, or that “one of the maids should”. Somewhat discombobulated by the answer, he shrugged, solicitously provided David with directions and suitable speleological equipment, and then went back to managing the castle’s help, still shaking his head.
That early afternoon, David enjoyed challenging himself in the deepest recesses of the caves near the waterfall, until he was short of breath, panting, slippery, sweating cold, downright exhausted. Still, he finished his incursion exhilarated: for the first time in many years, he had overcome his paralyzing claustrophobia. By then it was high time for a nice long shower and some snacks, waiting for dinner in the large glass-railing veranda, on the castle’s avant-garde addition overlooking the waterfall.
That day’s sunset was spectacular, even if briefly interrupted by the unexpected arrival of the Countess’ by helicopter. After tending to a few urgent business matters in Paris, she had even made time to buy some marvels of French cuisine, to dazzle her guests.
After freshening up, Sól and Siegfried came early to socialize, entertained their guests marvelously well—but remained cagey about findings. They insisted they’d rather discuss their latest discoveries with Severian first, before venturing any working hypothesis.
After dinner, Severian too arrived seemingly by helicopter, and all of them sat at the big salon for drinks and chitchat. Only after the Countess invited everyone to go back to the basement, when the door leading to the castle from the chemin d’accès was locked and the castle doors as well, did she pronounce the place safe from prying eyes. Then, Siegfried began: “We have examined and read and extracted as much information as is humanly possible from that gold sheet. The manuscripts speak about spells and witches—and a procedure, apparently a dangerous procedure, to call on, I mean, to invoke, Lilith, the one and same Lilith we were discussing today…”
“…An invocation made by promising her an offering…an offering in the sense of the sacrifices to the Golden Calf perhaps—one that could made her so powerful that she, and she alone, should she accept to redeem herself for past actions, would be able to free the world from most forms of Evil. It does not, however, in any way suggest this would turn her into an “angel” or “archangel”…” said Sól.
“What would happen,” continued Siegfried, “by offering her the wandering souls of people who died suffering—not only experiencing physical pain, but also terrible mind agony—on the other hand, would be to restore the world, taking
it into a “new and just equilibrium”; a world in which those who did wrong would expiate their misdeeds, essentially by going to hell, and those who were wronged, would ascend and remain in bliss; and those now living, who try to perpetuate evil, would suffer some ill-defined but brutal form of punishment.”
“That sort of madness is what Madame Blavatsky and the other psychos who inspired Himmler, those who dreamed of the Aryan race and such, and Tibet and what not, ended up creating—until Himmler turned it into a religion of state, and used it to justify all sort of atrocities,” said the Countess.
“Yes!”, replied Sól. “But there is a recurrent theme in the spells. That of ‘dark shepherds’, those who betrayed their own into believing anything, those who lost their own ‘basic humanity’ justifying their actions by accepting that lying, suffering, and the death of scores of their own people, would lessen the pain of ‘at least a few’: that is why ‘talismans that guide’ the sheep to the slaughterhouse are being used to direct those souls ‘the same way the bodies of the living were sent to die’, because they trusted their ‘dark shepherds’ while they were alive.”
“I think,” said Haim clearing his throat, “I might understand what this could mean,” he said stopping for along moment. The others all turned to face him. “In the episode of the golden calf, Aaron, prophet of G-d who should become High Priest, was involved in casting the golden calf. But…why? Because, before the erev rav, the “Egyptian hangers-on” so to speak, went to protest, telling him that Moses was late and this had to mean he had died on Mount Sinai, they had gone to Chur, Aaron’s nephew & G-d’s prophet; & Chur had rebuked them, instead of helping them, and so they killed him. To avoid getting killed and thus sparing the Israelites having to answer to G-d for both killing a prophet and a priest, Aaron chose to help them—possibly hoping this would also buy Moses enough time to return.
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