Gene of Isis

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Gene of Isis Page 18

by Traci Harding


  You should find her tale most inspiring. ’Indeed!’ I read on.

  I departed the library in a complete daze. So many things that I had always suspected had been confirmed, along with several other mind-boggling revelations about the life and character of Jesus Christ, King of the Jews. In fact, the account was so radical that I began to question the validity of the document.

  Perhaps it is just a fantastic work of fiction, I suggested to myself, but Albray was still at liberty and keeping pace with me.

  I don’t believe so, he said. For, if it were not true, everything my order stands for and believes in would be a farce. Moreover, you know in your heart that no bishop of that time would dare fabricate such a lie to the Pope!

  I needed the privacy of a carriage for this conversation and I flagged down a transport easily enough.

  No sooner had the door of the carriage closed than I allowed my thoughts to come flooding out. ‘Are you trying to tell me that Jesus Christ did not die on the Cross, but was instead rescued by a radical Judaic revolutionary who was supposed to be crucified on the same day?’

  Yes. Barabbas, who aided in carrying Jesus’ Cross to the crucifixion site, swapped places with Simon Zealot who was also to be crucified that day as a thief…although he was, in truth, a rebel and a High Priest of the Hellenistic Order, as was Jesus eventually. Simon was opposed to the segregated ways of the Jewish elders, a governing body known as the Sanhedrin. Both Simon Zealot and Jesus believed that a segregated Jewish nation would never defeat the might of Rome. But unlike John the Baptist and Jesus’ older brother, James, who were more disposed toward the more conservative Hebrews, the revolutionary Zealots knew the Jews could not succeed in their mission if they continued to hold themselves separate from the Gentiles.

  ‘Native non-Jews,’ I stated, and Albray nodded.

  The Sanhedrin council didn’t appreciate having their personal dealings with Rome disrupted by revolution. The Sanhedrin had Jesus arrested, but as it was forbidden for the council to sit during the Passover, the responsibility of trying Jesus was handed over to Pontius Pilate.

  ‘But, according to the manuscript I just read, Pilate did all within his power to see to it that Jesus didn’t die on the Cross. In fact, Pilate had his guard assist with the escape from the crypt.’

  True, for Pilate had his own agenda. He had struck a deal with Herod-Antipas of Galilee where Pilate promised to see to the release of Jesus—it suited Herod-Antipas for Jesus to continue his campaign and provoke King Herod-Agrippa. However, to be hailed as the long-awaited Messiah, Jesus had to live up to biblical prophecy which stated that the Messiah would be a descendant of the House of David, which Jesus was; that he would be a revolutionary thinker, and as Jesus preached that the way to god was through service to others and the power of one, his was definitely a new way of thought .. . or at least a very old one that had not stirred in some time; and the third requirement of the Messiah was that he would have his blood drawn by his own people.

  ‘And the crucifixion achieved this. I understand all that,’ I said, feeling a little woozy—too much startling information too soon was obviously not a good thing. ‘But how could the church have suppressed the knowledge that Jesus was married to Mary Magdalene and that she was actually three months pregnant at the time of the crucifixion! She claimed in the manuscript that they had three children, all born in France.’

  The eldest of which was a daughter, Tamar, from whom you are descended.

  LESSON 10

  PHANTASMS

  FROM THE HONEYMOON JOURNAL OF LADY SUSAN DEVERE

  Today we reached Paris.

  It wasn’t easy to recruit Lord Devere to our mission, but I did. My husband loves me very much and I am a little ashamed of how I use that to advantage, but I strongly feel that we do have an obligation to find our dear sister.

  My brother , Simon, volunteered to remain at the Chateau de Vere, with Catherine, and would send on any correspondence.

  Our first stop in Paris was the Arsenal Library, not only because the literature stored there would be a magnet for Ashlee, but also because Mr Devere said he had acquaintances there. I assumed this to mean others of his brotherhood. I entered the L-shaped building with my eyes and mind wide open. Poor Lord Devere, however, was most bemused.

  ‘I think it’s shameful, when we are in one of the most exciting cities in Europe, that the first place we visit is an esoteric library.’ Obviously my earl was concerned about even being seen here.

  ‘Why don’t you go and secure rooms in a good hotel, and you can send the carriage back to collect us?’ Whilst giving him an excuse to leave, I made it clear that I intended to stay.

  ‘You don’t have to stay.’ Mr Devere unwittingly threw a spanner in the works.

  ‘Quite right,’ my husband agreed, eyeing the all-male attendants in the library. ‘This hardly seems a suitable place for a lady.’

  I took a step backward to state my position. ‘I am in Paris to find my dear friend, and I shall go, and be seen, anywhere that my dear sister’s trail may lead me.’ I think they both got the message rather clearly.

  ‘I shall see to the accommodation.’ Lord Devere ventured forward to kiss my cheek and promptly left the building.

  ‘You don’t trust me, dear sister?’ Mr Devere asked, as he seated himself to await word of an audience with his colleague, having secured a gentleman at the front desk to see to his request.

  ‘You haven’t earned my trust, Mr Devere,’ I stated. ‘Let us see how our journey progresses, shall we?’

  The gentleman from the front desk returned and we were asked to follow him to the curator’s office. ‘Don’t mind the drawn blinds. Mr Molier has a skin condition that is very sensitive to sunlight, hence the gas lighting.’

  Mr Devere glanced sideways at me, as if saying this was news to him—he’d obviously never met this colleague of his. I was a bit apprehensive and I hoped this person was not going to be hideously deformed or something. I could not have been more wrong.

  Mr Molier was a very handsome man, although his skin was so pale white and glowing that it almost appeared blue. This seemed very odd, as the long curls of his hair were dark, as were his eyes. Despite his skin condition he appeared a very fit fellow.

  ‘Mr Devere, at last we meet.’ Molier came out from behind his desk to shake my brother-in-law’s hand. ‘I’m sorry it couldn’t be under better circumstances. You’ve misplaced your wife, I hear?’

  Devere was as shocked as I was.

  ‘How did you know?’ he spluttered, and then added more hopefully as he figured out the answer for himself: ‘You’ve found her?’

  I breathed a sigh of relief when Molier nodded. One, we’d found Ashlee; and two, Devere had not broken our agreement to keep Ashlee’s disappearance a secret.

  ‘She should be arriving very shortly, in fact.’

  ‘That is a great relief,’ Devere confided, and then felt he should explain the situation. ‘There was a misunderstanding—’

  ‘I see that much has changed about you recently, Mr Devere.’ Molier grinned, as if he knew everything and more.

  Was Molier psychic too? I think Mr Devere was wondering the same thing. My brother remembered his manners when Mr Molier looked my way.

  ‘Allow me to present my sister-in-law, Lady Oxford.’

  ‘It is a rare pleasure indeed to meet another female of Cavandish blood. Your aunt was very well respected here.’

  Molier kissed my hand before I could prevent it, and the way his eyes stayed glued to mine as he did so made me feel uneasy.

  With a knock on the door, a gentleman entered. ‘Mrs Devere is here, sir, but as she asked to view the archives again, I took her there to await you.’

  ‘Thank you, Jenkins.’ Molier dismissed the librarian. ‘I must ask you both to stay here,’ he said. ‘In all fairness to Mrs Devere, I should speak with her alone before I bring her forth for this reunion.’

  Devere was clearly worried Ashlee would flee again. ‘B
ut she will not—’

  ‘I understand your concerns. Truly.’ Molier was mysterious and convincing. ‘Please trust me.’

  FROM THE TRAVEL JOURNALS OF MRS ASHLEE DEVERE

  I was looking a little plumper today, as Nanny had made a special corset with several pockets that were padded each side. Our treasure was cushioned between the padding. Nanny felt that, since I was such a skinny thing, the corset gave me a healthier appearance. I had stuffed the precious Star vial in between my breasts, and as I wore a very modest gown I had no fear of the vial coming loose or being spotted.

  All the blinds in the library were closed today, but lanterns and candles were lit for my benefit. I wondered why Jenkins had not drawn back the blinds, but perhaps too much daylight wasn’t good for the old scripts.

  Once we were alone, Albray joked about Nanny’s solution to our security problem. Do you feel like a million gold francs?

  I didn’t feel his jesting warranted a response.

  So, what would you like to destroy today?

  ‘I told you this morning, and last night, I’d like to try and verify what I read yesterday.’ I was startled by a tap on my shoulder. I was looking at Albray so I quickly turned and was confronted by a floating scroll. ‘Oh my.’ I was shocked that my will could be so powerful. ‘I didn’t even do a summons!’ I took the item in hand and then spotted a multitude of documents all floating in the air, waiting to be beckoned.

  Thou art a true Master. Albray flattered me graciously. There seems to be a bit more here than we have time for today. However, it seems you can rest assured that the account you read yesterday can be verified. He enjoyed making light of my disbelief, being such a strong believer himself. Why are you so bothered by the fact that you are a descendant of Jesus, when you now know he was a very great, very enlightened man?

  ‘I’m sure I won’t have a problem with it once I separate the man from the institution in my mind.’ I’d spent so long blaming Jesus for the disgrace that was his church, it was hard to fathom that, not only had the church not been Jesus’ doing, his bloodline had been repressed by the very church devoted to him. ‘Is that what has you so cheerful today, Albray? All the explaining you don’t have to do?’

  No. He shook his head, still smiling. Keeping your company each day brings its own rewards.

  Was he flirting with me? He had ceased trying to charm me the day I married, but I guess he figured that now I’d left Devere, I was fair game again.

  ‘I was interested to note in the manuscript yesterday,’ I decided to sidestep the issue, ‘that after being excommunicated by the Sanhedrin, Jesus’ older brother, James, took the name Joseph ha Rama Theo…Joseph of Arimathea, do you think?’

  Albray applauded. He eventually settled in England.

  One of the doors opened and all the floating texts ceased to defy gravity and dropped to the floor. Fortunately, the man who entered was wearing a large hood over his face, and did not see the cause of the thud that preceded his entrance.

  He removed his head covering after closing the door. ‘Bonjour, Mrs Devere.’

  No, it can’t be. Albray was extremely alarmed.

  ‘I am Christian Molier, curator of this collection.’ The pale handsome man came forward to make my acquaintance, and Albray’s reaction made it very difficult for me to keep my focus on Molier. ‘I apologise for the unusual daytime lighting arrangement, but my skin is very sensitive to sunlight.’

  You’re an abomination, Molier, Albray harshly accused, although only I could hear him and he was making me nervous. Hereford must have released you from your imprisonment.

  ‘That’s quite all right, Mr Molier. It was very good of you to go to such pains to meet with me.’ I allowed him to kiss my hand, noting that his light-body was very strange to perceive. His aura sparkled golden, whilst his chakra centres were bogged with darkness. I had to agree with Albray; Molier was an abomination of some kind.

  You must leave, Ashlee, Albray insisted very passionately. This man is a vampire and he is after your blood.

  Albray’s panic was not very conducive to my concentration.

  ‘How can I help you, Mrs Devere?’

  ‘Well, actually, as it turns out…I no longer require your assistance, but I did wish to thank you and Mr Jenkins for your time. It was greatly appreciated.’ I placed aside the scroll in my hand, curtseyed and made to leave.

  ‘Ah, Mrs Devere…’

  Molier pulled me up and I hid my misgivings. What could he do that I could not defend myself against? I turned back to him.

  ‘I have something in my office that I would like to give you, but I forgot to bring it down.’ Molier sounded annoyed at himself for the oversight. ‘Would you be so kind as to wait here while I fetch it?’

  What is it you have for me? I honed in on his thoughts and upon capturing a brief glimpse of Mr Devere, my inner panic returned. ‘Of course.’ I took a seat so as not to look in a hurry. ‘That will give me more time to peruse the texts in your wonderful archive.’

  ‘Indeed,’ he granted. ‘I won’t detain you long.’

  ‘I have no pressing engagements,’ I assured him.

  I was relieved when the door closed behind Molier, until I heard the key turn in the lock. I rushed to the door to confirm my worst fears, and heard Molier instruct Jenkins to see to it that no one unlocked the door until he returned.

  Jenkins did not question the instruction.

  ‘Molier has Devere in this very building!’ I stressed my concern to Albray in a whisper, even though he was already aware of what I knew. ‘This is probably secret brotherhood headquarters! What am I to do, Albray?’

  I was gripping my amulet so tightly that I picked up on Albray’s mind to voice the suggestion at the same time as he did. ‘The windows!’ We both rushed to the other side of the room.

  It didn’t take long to realise that we needed a key. ‘Security measures, no doubt,’ I was beginning to think the situation was hopeless, and Albray seemed to be lost in thought.

  You can go through the wall, he suggested, excited by the plan until he saw my expression. It’s no different to your changing the composition of the parchment, he reasoned. Will the brick to be as thin as air.

  ‘All right, master adviser.’ I recalled that higher education and instruction was the reason I had engaged Albray’s services in the first place. ‘What do I do?’

  Place your hands on the wall. He gestured to a space between the windows and I did as instructed. You have the ability to do this, but if you need faith in yourself then call upon the strength of your foremothers.

  I drew a deep breath to focus and suppressed the fear that time was short.

  Women of my blood, have your legacy live on, lend to me your strength, to secure my freedom’!

  When the wall remained hard against my fingers, terror rose from my heart to lodge in my throat. ‘Albray, I cannot…this is not working.’

  My knight seemed defeated, but only for a moment. The Star vial, he suggested. Put a small amount of the powder in your mouth—it heightens awareness and psychic aptitude.

  I dug the tiny vial from my attire and followed his instruction, placing just a few small particles on my tongue. I returned the vial to its hiding place, closed my eyes and repeated my request.

  After a moment I could no longer feel the wall at my fingertips and I felt as though I’d moved backwards although I pressed forward. A bump on the shoulder caused my eyes to open.

  ‘So sorry, Madame. I didn’t see you there.’ The gentleman I’d collided with tipped his hat and kept on walking.

  I looked about to see if anyone else had noticed my mysterious exit from the building, but the Parisians were all going about their business and paying no attention to me whatsoever.

  Quick. Albray urged me into the city hustle and bustle, where I grabbed a carriage and headed straight to collect Nanny. We were leaving Paris today!

  FROM THE HONEYMOON JOURNAL OF LADY SUSAN DEVERE

  Mr Devere was furious a
nd bewildered when we entered the huge archive room and no Ashlee in sight.

  ‘I thought I told you that no one was to unlock the door.’ Molier calmly accused Jenkins of negligence.

  ‘I assure you, sir, no one entered and no one left.’ His eyes looked about the room, unable to explain the woman’s disappearance.

  ‘My apologies, Jenkins.’ Molier was distracted by something on the windowed side of the room. He stood between the windows, fascinated by a piece of wall.

  ‘What is that?’ Devere asked, taking an interest in Molier’s probing.

  ‘I can’t see anything.’ I moved closer to learn what held them both spellbound.

  ‘There is a large patch in the wall, here, that is slightly more vibrant than the rest of the surface,’ Devere explained.

  ‘Quickly,’ Molier directed our attention to the wall, ‘it’s reconstituting.’

  ‘Pardon?’ Devere frowned as Molier pressed on the wall and it gave like rubber under his fingers. When he took the pressure off, the wall appeared completely normal.

  When Devere and I tried it, it gave less and less and finally returned to being completely solid.

  ‘That’s incredible.’ It was hard to keep the smile from my lips. I had no idea Ashlee was capable of such feats. ‘Are you suggesting Ashlee passed straight through this wall?’

  ‘I’ve never witnessed such mastery,’ Molier smiled and confirmed my guess. ‘If this was your wife’s doing, then Mrs Devere is an exceptional woman indeed.’

  ‘She must be close.’ Devere moved quickly to the window and, forgetting Molier’s condition, held open the curtains.

  Molier gave a cry ahead of raising his hood and burying his hands in his sleeves.

  ‘I am so sorry.’ Devere realised his mistake and enclosed the curtains around him to look outside. ‘I can’t see her,’ he admitted, frustrated, as he emerged from the far side of the fabric. ‘She is gone, and I have no idea where!’

 

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