The Serpent's Disciple

by Deborah Stevens

“I, like everyone, am aware of the comments made by his Holiness during his trip to the UK concerning the sexual scandal within the priesthood. It is unfortunate how the Church chose to handle this matter.”

  Pausing, he waited to see if McKenna would make a comment but he was met with silence. So he continued, “You, more than anyone, must realize the toll it is taking on the Catholic Church being the prefect of the CDF.”

  McKenna closed his eyes and slowly shook his head.

  “Yes, sadly there has been much suffering instilled upon the innocent, I am afraid.”

  Then looking directly at Cavallari, McKenna continued, “Being called to preach the words of Our Lord has not made us without sin. We can give in to temptation the same as any of God’s children. We are no more worthy of His love or absolved from His judgment than any other soul. As priests, we are given, by the grace of God, to give absolution of sins at confession. Now we must ask those same penitents to forgive us our sins.”

  Cavallari was getting nowhere with his colleague so he decided to up the ante a little.

  “I fear for the Church with the religious and political unrest in the world that is taking place. The media is reporting that the Pope should step down. There is even a subtle insinuation that they might have a candidate in mind.”

  McKenna didn’t respond right away. It was almost as if Cavallari was baiting him. There was a coldness about him that he had never noticed before.

  “Cardinal Cavallari, the media needs to fill space in newspapers and time on the networks. I realized the other day something that I often tend to forget. God asks only one thing of us, to trust in Him. If we obey his laws and seek no other false prophets, we will never go without want.”

  Cavallari grew more and more impatient. The world was about to change and this man in front of him had no idea of the inescapable future that awaited him.

  “It is good and well Cardinal McKenna, but the present souls are demanding financial retribution for the wrongs perpetrated against them. I don’t think the world and the victims will be appeased by a response from the Church to believe in God and his teachings on forgiveness. They did put their trust in God and His representatives on earth betrayed them. His Holiness can go around the world and speak the words of reconciliation but I must deal with reality. How do you suggest we deal with the here and now? The Church is asset rich but cash poor.”

  McKenna was shocked by the outburst. He was sure he hadn’t been able to disguise his reaction to Cavallari’s words. He remained quiet, and then in a calm voice replied, “We were all made in the image of God. We have been tested many times by evil forces. Perhaps this is one of those times we are again being tested by the Lord.”

  Cavallari had a habit of rubbing the palm of his hand when he became agitated with someone. McKenna noticed that Cavallari’s ring had twisted slightly. There appeared to be some kind of ink mark or tattoo beneath where the head of the ring sat on his finger. Odd place for a tattoo, McKenna thought to himself.

  Cavallari just stared at the cardinal. He had no use for this priest, but he was keenly aware of how McKenna was studying him. He would have to watch this one carefully.

  “I am sorry to see we have such a difference of opinion. I was hoping we could join forces on how to address the present issues facing the Church,” said Cavallari.

  Standing up, “You will now need to excuse me Cardinal McKenna. I have things I need to attend to.”

  “Of course,” said McKenna, as he got up from his chair.

  It was an awkward moment as they both stood there looking at each other. Cardinal McKenna decided to speak first, “I will say a prayer today that God will give us the wisdom to see the path we must take.”

  Expressionless, Cavallari replied, “You do that Cardinal McKenna. You do that.”

  McKenna turned to exit. He couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

  CHAPTER 59

  Nelli no longer heard Anthony’s muffled voice coming from the room next door. She needed to get some sleep but she couldn’t stop thinking about everything that had taken place since their father’s death.

  Laying there in the darkness, except for the dim light from a small lamp, she pulled the comforter up to her chin. It felt like a protective armor against the world. Rolling over onto her side she could see the little angel standing guard out on the balcony. There was a gentle breeze and the slightest hint of jasmine in the air.

  Reaching over to turn off the light Nelli’s eyes rested on the box they had purchased at the little shop in Rome. While unpacking, she put it on the nightstand next to the bed. Picking it up Nelli set it down on top of the comforter next to her. What secrets do you hold, she wondered?

  With her fingertips, she studied the box like a blind person would read braille. She felt the intricate details of the cross on the lid and the carving of scrolls in the wood. Out of the corner of her eye she became aware of a bright white light. Turning her head she expected to see the beams from a full moon shining through the window. She quickly realized the light wasn’t coming from the moon. She shifted her eyes slightly to the left. It was coming from the corner of the room.

  What she saw was a globe of pulsating light. As she watched, an outline of a person formed inside the globe. Then the image spoke but its mouth never moved.

  “You’ve had a very eventful day my child.”

  Nelli thought she recognized the image but it was impossible. It couldn’t be.

  “Saint Anthony?”

  “Yes Antonella, I was pleased when you found the medal I left for you in the museum today. You are very astute and are asking all the right questions.”

  “Saint Anthony, my brother and I think we might have found the location of the book. Can you tell me if we are on the right track?” asked Nelli.

  Even though the spirit of Saint Anthony had taken a human form, the globe still pulsated and rays of light shot out from all sides of the sphere.

  “The words that Our Lord told me to write down will be found when the time is right. You have now come to realize there are evil forces at work that do not want you to succeed but they also want to possess the book.”

  “Saint Anthony, I am not afraid for myself, but I do fear for the others that are on this quest with me.”

  The image continued talking but his lips never moved.

  “God is aware of your concerns. Be strengthened by knowing that each of them has freely chosen to accept their calling in life. When the time comes to depart from this earth all will have a place in heaven. So do not worry about their souls.

  “You will be surrounded and protected by all the past Keepers of the Key if you remain pure of heart then no harm will come to you and the forces working against you know this.”

  Nelli watched as the image began to fade in and out.

  “Saint Anthony, I have many questions.”

  “You must rest my child; the morning will be here soon. Remember to trust in Him.”

  The next thing Nelli heard was a different voice calling her name. Opening her eyes she was shocked to see it was morning.

  “Nelli, are you awake?” Anthony opened the bedroom door and peaked around the corner. “Hey you, you told me to wake you if you weren’t up by seven-thirty. I’ve been studying the maps and think I might have found something.”

  Nelli listened as her brother spoke but she was trying to figure out how the sun could be out when a minute ago it had been pitch black outside. Looking over at the corner of the room she was expecting to see Saint Anthony but no one was there.

  Anthony could see Nelli must have been in a deep sleep and was having a hard time waking up.

  “Come on Nelli, time to get moving. I’ll meet you downstairs in thirty minutes.”

  It became clear to Nelli now that she had another visitor last night. This time it was from Saint Anthony.

  “I’ll be down as soon as I can,” said Nelli, still half asleep.

  Anthony headed downstairs. He could smell fresh coffee. As he reac
hed the loggia he saw that Franco had already put out pastries and fruit. Although he hadn’t slept much, his mind was racing a hundred miles an hour.

  The conversation with Cephas last night concerned him. The man from Rimini that was driving the car and the man spotted in Rome and the museum had been seen going into a building rumored to be a meeting place for the hierarchy of Masonic Lodges from around Europe.

  Anthony ruled out it being a coincidence. He told Cephas to get inside the building and find out anything he could and report back to him. He was still waiting to hear what he had found out.

  “Buon giorno, signore Anthony.”

  “Did you and signorina Nelli enjoy your evening?” asked Franco.

  “Yes, it was a very nice gathering of Matthew’s friends,” answered Anthony hoping Franco wouldn’t see he was lying.

  “Will the signorina be joining you for breakfast?”

  “Yes, she will be down shortly,” said Anthony.

  Anthony sat down facing the side that overlooked the Adriatic. Picking up one of the books he confiscated from the library, he opened it up to the chapter on when the Sforza family occupied the fortress of Gradara. There was mention of a family chapel next to the residential quarters. It was a small chapel but the description of the interior caught his attention.

  He had also found what was considered to be the first known drawings of the fortress, which included the castle with some odd markings scribbled on the pages.

  “Good morning my dear brother,” said Nelli coming over and sitting down next to Anthony.

  He hadn’t heard his sister come in and it startled him, getting angry with himself for not being more alert to his surroundings.

  “Looks like you were having a hard time waking up,” said Anthony.

  “Actually …. ” Nelli stopped when she saw Franco.

  “Buon giorno, signorina Nelli. Would you like your usual?” winking at her.

  “Yes, grazie.” Nelli smiled and winked back.

  She waited for Franco to leave the room, then looking at her brother in a low voice she said, “I had another vision last night. Saint Anthony came to me.”

  Anthony wasn’t surprised, in fact, he waited for Nelli to continue.

  “I told him we thought we had found the location of the book. He said evil forces did not want us to succeed.”

  Nelli stopped talking. Franco was back with her coffee.

  “Espresso for the signorina,” placing the cup down in front of her. “Your friend will arrive this afternoon, si?”

  “Yes, her plane should land about noon.”

  “I have everything ready for her. She will have the room next to you signorina Nelli. Ah, I see you must be looking at visiting the medieval fortress, Gradara Castle. It has been voted one of the most beautiful villages in all of Italy.”

  Then Franco slapped his hands together as if in prayer looking up towards the sky, “And the place where the doomed and tragic love affair between Paolo and Francesca took place. It is recounted in the Canto V of Dante’s Inferno.”

  Nelli looked surprised at what he had just told them.

  “You have not heard the story I see. If you wish, I will tell you about the fated lovers?”

  “Yes, please do Franco,” Nelli was curious to hear the tale.

  “The legend goes Giovanni Malatesta, named Giangiotto, was the eldest son of Sigismondo I, Lord of Gradara. He was described as ugly and lame. Francesca was the daughter of Giovanni da Polenta, Lord of Ravenna. Giangiotto, a courageous but exceedingly ugly soldier, obtained Francesca’s father’s consent to marry her.

  “Fearing that she would be repelled by his ugliness, he persuaded his handsome brother Paolo to court her on his behalf. Once the marriage contract was signed the real Giangiotto slipped into the marriage bed, to the understandable horror of the young bride. But, more tragic still, Paolo and Francesca had fallen in love.

  “Giangiotto was Podesta, magistrate, in the town of Pesaro and could not bring his family with him because of a law at that time, so he left his wife and daughter Concordia in the Castle of Gradara.

  “His brother Paolo became a frequent caller at the castle but Giangiotto knew of the visits. He caught his wife and brother alone in Francesca’s bedroom. Giangiotto rushed upon his brother to kill him but Francesca sheltered him with her body and was killed in his place. Paolo followed her soon afterwards. If you tour the castle they will take you to her bedroom to see where the ill-fated lovers lost their lives.”

  “That is so sad,” said Nelli. “It sounds like our story of Romeo and Juliet.”

  “Per favore mi scusi, I’ve talked too long. Please call if there is anything you want me to do before your guest arrives.” Franco turned and headed back to the kitchen.

  Anthony’s phone rang.

  “It’s Mary Ellen,” Anthony mouthed to Nelli, as he placed the phone up to his ear.

  “Good morning Anthony. I thought I’d let you and Nelli know I’ll be leaving for the airport in a few minutes.”

  “All right, we will be waiting for you when you land. See you around twelve Mary Ellen.”

  “Is she headed to the airport?” asked Nelli

  “Yup, she’s on her way. Now finish telling me more about the visit you had from Saint Anthony.”

  “There’s not too much more to tell you. He said the book would be found when the time is right and that all the past Keepers of the Key would protect me. Now you said you discovered something?” said Nelli as she ate the last piece of fruit from her plate.

  “We have some time before we need to leave to pick up Mary Ellen,” said Anthony getting up from his chair. “Let me grab my laptop and I will meet you in the reading room and show you.”

  Finishing her espresso, Nelli barely made it to the reading room before Anthony. He put his laptop on the table next to the chair she was sitting in. Then he opened up one of the books from the library and laid down some papers he had made notes on next to it.

  “Look, some of the architectural renderings have strange markings on them,” pointing to the drawings. “Right here where the personal residence and a family chapel should be. The other interesting thing was the description of the interior of the family chapel.”

  Nelli studied the drawings as Anthony read.

  “It was a small chapel, rectangular in shape. As you entered it, at the far end was the altar. Along the two long walls of the room were eight niches, four on each side each holding a statue.”

  “That isn’t that unusual Anthony,” said Nelli. Not understanding why Anthony would find anything strange about the layout of the chapel.

  “Listen to the list of who the statues represent.”

  He read the eight names ending with the two that were the closest to the altar, “Saint Lawrence, who we know was supposed to resemble Lord Sforza’s son and the other is Saint Anthony.”

  Nelli was shaken when hearing the names. Then it suddenly hit her, “It’s the names of the eight saints that were in the painting!”

  “Then there’s this,” continues Anthony, “Lord Sforza had his son’s body returned to Gradara where he was buried in the family chapel along with the others.”

  “Are you thinking the same thing as I am?” Nelli looked wide-eyed at Anthony.

  “All I know is . . . we have to get into that chapel.”

  CHAPTER 60

  Mary Ellen was hypnotized as she watched the water flow lazily down the Tiber River from the balcony of her apartment. It looked like a stream of sparkling diamonds as the sun’s rays bounced off its surface. How could anything evil exist when she felt such a sense of peace? But the moment was gone and the reality was that there were evil forces at work. Taking another sip of coffee, she replayed the conversation with Cardinal McKenna.

  The sun was much higher in the sky and the water had taken on the appearance of a looking glass. The car would be here soon to take her to the airport and she still hadn’t heard from Cardinal McKenna.

  As if on cue the doorbel
l rang. She was about to open the door when she stopped. “You need to be more careful,” she told herself. “Check and see who it is first.”

  Ever since receiving that card with the embossed cobra head on it she’d become much more suspicious of everyone. Looking through the peephole she recognized the cardinal’s assistant, Robert, and opened the door.

  “Buon giorno, Robert. Come stai?”

  “Buon giorno, molto bene signorina O’Farrell, Cardinal McKenna asked me to deliver this before you left on your trip.” He handed Mary Ellen a large sealed envelope.

  “Grazie, please tell Cardinal McKenna I will call him after I have read through all the material.”

  “Si of course,” nodding his head in acknowledgement. “Have a pleasant trip signorina O’Farrell, arrivederci.” He turned and headed back down the hallway.

  She was afraid to open the envelope. Reading the cardinal’s findings could further substantiate her suspicions that there was a conspiracy taking place. As she pulled out the contents of the envelope, on top was a handwritten note from the cardinal.

  Dear Mary Ellen,

  I received documents that deepen my concerns and raise even more questions. There is what appears to be laundering of money between the IOR, Bank Ambrosiano, and the LC. Enclosed you will see my notes with the dates and amounts.

  Upon my researching of the events surrounding the death of Pope John Paul I, there are similarities between then and now that greatly disturb me. A secret society called Propaganda Due also known as P2, an offshoot of the Freemasons and some have even suggested it being a branch of the Illuminati, was believed to be behind the conspiracy to kill the Pope.

  I am frightened by what I am seeing taking place between the three groups I mentioned above. I believe it could be just the tip of the iceberg. I fear that this group by the name of P2 could have gone underground and have been waiting to gain power again. If we believe the prophecy of Saint Anthony, we could be facing a battle with Satan himself.

  If we can figure out what they have planned, we might be able to reverse the course of events. May God protect and guide us on this journey.