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The Serpent's Disciple

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by Deborah Stevens




  THE SERPENT’S DISCIPLE

  A Novel

  by

  Deborah Stevens

  Copyright © 2013 Deborah Stevens

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental.

  Contact information: Deborah Stevens

  E-mail: mailto:request@deborahstevesauthor.com

  Web site: http://www.deborahstevensauthor.com

  Published By: Smith House Press

  P.O. Box 13545

  Roseville, MN 55113

  E-mail: mailto:publisher@SmithHousePress.com

  Web site: SmithHousePressPublishingConsultants.com

  Editors: Richard Broderick

  Cass Erickson, http://www.greengrantwriter.com

  Cover and Interior Design: Nicholas McDougal, http://www.nicmcd.com

  Cover photograph by Mark Triplett

  ISBN: 978-0-9894702-0-9

  Print book available from http://www.amazon.com

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  In producing my first novel, I, like every other author, have learned that a book doesn’t reach the public without the assistance of many people. Creating a story and writing it down is only half the process. In helping me complete the other half, I have been lucky in finding talented people, people I now consider friends, who showed me what was needed to be done in order to get The Serpent’s Disciple from my imagination to the printed page.

  Thank you Sybil Smith, my publisher, who steered me in the right direction showing me the steps I needed to take to publish my book and turn it into e an ebook. And thanks to Richard Broderick, my writing coach who went over and above what was asked of him. And to Cass Erickson who did the final editing of the manuscript—any mistakes or typographical errors that have found their way into the finished book fall entirely on my shoulders. Celia Wirth who helped me with the endless issues I encountered with the computer and to the talented Nicholas McDougal who designed the cover and book trailer for The Serpent’s Disciple and also did the book’s interior design.

  To family and friends who supported me and were excited for me, please accept my gratitude. Last, but not least, to my husband Larry who listened to me day after day and encouraged me not to give up.

  To all of you, I thank you for helping me achieve the opportunity to make my dream come true.

  Fact:

  Propaganda Due or P2:

  “Propaganda” was originally founded as “Propaganda Massonica” in 1877, in Turin, Italy. The name was changed to “Propaganda Due” following World War II, but by the 1960s the Lodge was all but moribund, holding few meetings. Licio Gelli became a Freemason in 1964 and was assigned the task of reorganizing the Lodge, but in 1976 its charter was withdrawn.

  Without anyone’s knowledge, however, Licio Gelli had secretly created a “shadow government,” a pseudo-Masonic, “black,” or “covert” Lodge from a list of inactive members and from 1976 to 1981, as Grand Master, P2 was implicated in numerous Italian crimes and mysteries.

  Legion of Christ or LC:

  A Roman Catholic congregation of pontifical rights, made up of priests and seminarians studying for the priesthood, was founded in Mexico in 1941 by Marcial Maciel.

  According to The Wall Street Journal (David Gibson, 5/6/2011), “The Legion of Christ ... became a global phenomenon in Catholicism by joining a devotion to orthodoxy and secrecy with an equal fidelity to the Legion’s charismatic founder, but complaints of the Legion’s cult-like aspects forced the elderly priest from ministry and launched an investigation.”

  N.B.: All descriptions of artwork, architecture, and secret rituals in this novel are accurate.

  In Rome there are gathering forces of evil

  They have entered into the highest places of the Church

  Beware of the one who calls himself “the angel of light”

  Do not be deceived by the rank and position

  Evil will never admit defeat

  It will regroup and arise again under a new disguise

  —Deb Stevens

  CHAPTER 1

  Pesaro, Italy 1220 A.D.

  Father Anthony, born Fernando Martins de Bulhoes, had just finished with his nightly prayers. Tomorrow, he and the young Giovanni would prepare the church for people to come and hear the Bishop from Rome speak about the Crusades.

  The bishop was Pope Honorius III’s special envoy. Because of the troubling state of affairs in Italy, the threatening attitude of the Tatars, and the fear of a schism, he was being sent to villages like theirs to inspire and recruit people to join the fight. In 1215, the Pope issued the Papal Bull “Ad Liberaindam” calling all Christendom to join the Crusades. His wish was to reacquire the Holy Land and Jerusalem.

  Anthony heard a light rap on the door to his room and someone softly whispering.

  “Are you still awake Father Anthony?”

  “Giovanni is that you? Yes, come in, my son.” Giovanni’s father and mother had brought him to the monastery when he was 12 years old. Since then he had grown to be a tall lad, slender with dark wavy hair and warm dark brown eyes.

  During the last six years the monks became his family and in exchange for helping around the monastery, he was taught to read and write, turning out to be an excellent student.

  “I’m sorry if I disturbed you father, but I couldn’t sleep. I keep thinking about the bishop coming the day after tomorrow. Do you think the war will end soon?”

  “Only our Heavenly Father knows the answer to that question. We can only pray on it and ask for the strength to follow the Lord’s will.”

  The priest could tell Giovanni had something else on his mind.

  “There’s something I wanted to give to you Father. I have been working on it for months, and I finished it a few nights ago.”

  Father Anthony watched as Giovanni brought something wrapped in a brown piece of cloth tied with a string, from behind his back. As he untied the string, the fabric fell away, and he held in his hands a beautiful wooden box.

  “I made it to thank you for teaching me to read and write. I hope you like it.”

  The priest held the box in his hands and saw that it was quite unique in design.

  “Giovanni, I don’t know what to say. We’ve been blessed having you here at the abbey. When you found the time to make such a beautiful box I will never know, but I will always treasure it. One with such devotion is surely one of God’s Chosen Ones. You will be a good servant to those who want to learn the faith.”

  Giovanni was fidgeting as the Father spoke.

  “Please Father Anthony, may I have it. There’s something very special about the box I want to show you.”

  Curious to see what Giovanni meant, the priest handed the box back to him.

  “First, the key to lock the box is inside, see.”

  Then he continued to explain to Father Anthony the secrets of the box.

  “Giovanni, what a genius you are. I must pass your gifts of artistry on to the bishop. Perhaps they will have need of someone with such a gift in Rome.”

  “My only wish was to please you, Father Anthony. I am so happy you like the box. Whatever God has planned for me, I will work to please Him the best way I know how but I must tell you a story about the box.

  “I was working in the fields a few months back and was trying to think of something I could do to thank you for teaching me to read and write. A monk I had never seen before was also working i
n the fields that day. When it came time to stop for the midday meal he came over to me and offered to share his.

  “He had packed more than he could eat, and a young lad like me, he was sure, would be able to eat more than what was in the small pouch I carried. As we ate, I told him I was trying to come up with an idea for a gift to thank you for all you have done for me.

  “He said he knew of you and was sent to tell me to make a box that could keep a secret safe from others’ eyes. I did not understand why it must hide a secret but he was so kind and wise of a holy man that I promised to create something special. I thanked him for the meal and went out to the field to finish my work. At the end of the day when I looked for him he was gone. I’ve never seen him again. I said a prayer that night and thanked God for sending me the messenger and that I would fulfill my promise both to Him and the monk I met in the field that day.”

  Father Anthony did not question God’s ways. He would accept the box from young Giovanni as a gift of kindness and great effort. If there was a purpose for the box he knew that he would be shown it when the time was right.

  “Dear Giovanni, though I would like to hear more about that day in the field, we must get our rest. We have much to do tomorrow to prepare for the bishop. Bless you, Giovanni, for your faith and kindness, and thank God for the gifts he has honored you with. Let us say a prayer and then we must get our sleep, for the morning will be here before we know it.”

  CHAPTER 2

  September 28, 1978 The Papal Palace

  Cardinal Jean Villot, Vatican secretary of state, had gotten hold of the list of appointments, resignations to be asked for, and transfers Pope John Paul I planned on putting into motion the next morning. There was one common denominator that linked each of the men about to be replaced … it was Freemasonry.

  Villot was aware of each man’s affiliation to the Masons; more important, so was the Pope. It was the reason the Pope would strip these men of their power.

  Pope John Paul I had evidence indicating that within the Vatican City State, there were over one hundred Masons ranging from priests to cardinals. The Pope was further preoccupied with an illegal Masonic Lodge called Propaganda Due (P2), which had infiltrated far beyond even the Vatican in its search for wealth and power. The fact that it had penetrated the Vatican walls and had converted priests, bishops, and even cardinals made P2 anathema, a formal ecclesiastical curse accompanied by excommunication.

  The changes the Pope was intending on making would create, by any standards a dramatic reshuffle within the Vatican. It would set the church in a new direction, directions that Villot and others on the list considered dangerous for their movement.

  On the morning of September 29, 1978 at 4:45 a.m., Sister Vicenza entered the papal apartments to bring the Holy Father his morning tea, only to find the lifeless body of the Pope. Fifteen minutes later at 5:00 a.m. it was reported that Cardinal Villot confirmed the death of the Pope. Only thirty-three days after his election, Pope John Paul I was dead.

  Sister Vicenza gave two conflicting reports concerning the state in which she first found Pope John Paul I. According to a group of French priests that same morning, it was “in his bathroom” that she found the Holy Father dead, still in his papal robes. Later, after Cardinal Villot was present, she reported that upon entering the room she found the Pope sitting up in bed “with an expression of agony” before he died.

  This small detail is significant. If it was true that Sister Vicenza found the Holy Father dead in the bathroom still in his papal robes, it could be construed that he died shortly after his “toast” with Cardinal Villot, the night of September 28, 1978.

  That evening Villot hastily arranged for the embalming to be performed, a procedure as unusual as it was illegal, Villot also insisted that no blood was to be drained from the body, and neither were any of the organs to be removed. No official death certificate has ever been issued. No autopsy ever performed. Cause of death: Unknown.

  CHAPTER 3

  Present Day

  Peter caught a glimpse of the man’s reflection in the glass. Recognizing the face he stopped and stared at the image. The person looking back at him had been dead for more than twenty years. A long time ago, Peter decided that if the man were naive enough to believe the world was a just and righteous place if only we followed God’s commandments, he was a fool and deserved what he got. That was another lifetime, and he was a man of power and wealth now, not the person he saw in the glass. The events leading up to his death had been buried along with the man.

  Peter made the mistake of giving himself permission to remember thinking, that maybe it had all been a fabrication of his imagination. But now in a moment of weakness, he allowed the same thought to cross his mind. By opening that door to the past, he fell victim to the painful memories that came flooding back. The past was now the present and he started reliving it all over again.

  Standing in front of his wife and Father Damian, Peter prayed they would tell him it was all a lie. It wasn’t enough she was pregnant with Damian’s child; they also had been embezzling from his company. A bank account had been set up under the guise that it was for the church, where the pair had been depositing the money that they were stealing.

  Peter would never forget the expression on their faces when he presented them with the incriminating evidence. They appeared shocked and stared at him like he was crazy. Could he be wrong? Had he somehow dreamed all of it up? He watched in slow motion as the two most important people in his life stole a glance from each other, then turned and faced him. What Peter saw sent a chill through him. It was as if he were looking into the eyes of the devil himself.

  Losing both his mother and father only two months earlier and now, being made a fool of by his wife and the priest was more than he could handle. His world spun out of control. Time seemed to stop as he tried to figure out why this was happening to him. Then he felt a sense of calmness, which puzzled him; he suddenly had no feelings one way or the other about what had just happened. His breathing slowed and his heart stopped pounding. No longer caring, he became aware of the sound of something beeping. Trying to figure out where it was coming from, all at once he remembered setting his watch alarm.

  As he checked the time he was back in the present. The past slipped into the dark hole it came from, never to be revisited again. Peter had learned well and would be the ruler of his own soul.

  CHAPTER 4

  Pesaro 1220 A.D

  “Goodnight Father Anthony, I will see you at morning prayer. I’m so happy you are pleased with my gift.”

  Giovanni agreed with the Father that they must rest now. There were still a few things to do in the morning before the bishop arrived. Giovanni loved the church and God, but he desired to marry one day and, hopefully, God would bless him with a son or daughter. Until that time, he was happy at the abbey.

  As Father Anthony sat on the edge of his bed, he blew out the candle on the side table. Closing his eyes he silently prayed, “I ask for your blessings Lord to do your work here on earth and that I may be worthy of the task.”

  Opening his eyes, he looked out the window at the full moon. It was extremely bright this evening, its light covering the earth like a warm blanket. He marveled at its beauty and the mystery of God’s creations. A moonbeam slowly made its way toward his window. The small room filled with a beautiful white light and an angel took form before his eyes. Anthony blessed himself with the sign of the cross and bowed his head in reverence. Then the angel spoke.

  “Anthony, Our Father has sent me to tell you that he has chosen you to be His messenger. I will come to you at sunrise for three days where the olive grove ends and the waters begin. You must come alone. There you will write down the words I speak. After the third day you will become the Guardian of the book. It must be kept in a safe place for the Chosen One.”

  Anthony now knew the purpose of the gift he had received from Giovanni. The light that had filled the room slowly withdrew and Anthony was alone again in the
darkness, except for a soft glow, that came from the cross that hung from his neck. He held the cross with both hands and thanked God for finding him worthy.

  CHAPTER 5

  Sixth day of the fourth month of the year 1220 A.D. of Our Lord

  Day One

  Anthony woke early. He had prepared a small breakfast the night before. Eating it quickly he quietly left the abbey while it was still dark. When he first came to the abbey, during one of his many walks, he had discovered the spot the angel spoke of. He often went there to be alone and pray; now silently waiting as the sun slowly rose in the east. A small ball of light broke away from the sun and slowly grew larger as it traveled directly toward him, rays of light shooting from all sides of the sphere. He fell to his knees, afraid, but a voice softly said, “Do not be afraid, Anthony, Our Father is pleased you have obeyed his command. Have you brought paper and pen?”

  “Yes, I have it here.”

  “Then we will begin.”

  The angel began to speak as Anthony wrote down the words.

  “Blessed is the one who reads aloud the words of the prophecy, and blessed are those who hear and keep what is written, for a great battle is near.”

  “Evil is being accepted broadly when human beings who are temples of God are being desecrated by their own wickedness.”

  “The spirit of truth came with the knowledge to man that the day would come when a great delusion shall descend upon mankind and cover the earth in a blanket of spiritual darkness. The forces of six sixty-six will enter the Holy City of Rome.

  Keep, my children, a constant vigilance of prayer. There will be a war of spirits, the forces of darkness against the forces of light seeking to set upon the Chair of Peter.”

  “Now go, Anthony, and write what you have been told today into a book for safekeeping. Then return here tomorrow at sunrise.” Anthony did as he was told.

 

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