The Serpent's Disciple

by Deborah Stevens

  “Where did this all happen?” asked Thomas. He was still trying to make sense of it all.

  “They were followed to Gradara Castle. Once inside they added two priests to their small entourage and were secretly taken inside a private chapel not open to the public.”

  “Do we know what’s inside the chapel?” said Thomas. He needed facts to try and piece together a plan. The medieval fortress was the setting for the tragic love story of Paolo and Francesca. Many went there to see the bedroom in which her husband Gianciotto murdered Francesca and his brother with his sword. So why was there interest in the chapel?

  “What about the bodies? We must get rid of them before they are discovered,” said Thomas.

  “Do you think that has not already been taken care of,” growled Peter. “I have waited too long for my plan to fail now. I will not have it destroyed due to your stupidity. Due to the quick thinking of Christine, all the bodies have been disposed of.”

  For the first time Thomas realized the Grand Master no longer had complete trust in him.　 He knew his authority over the disciples was also in jeopardy. He had to correct this catastrophe.

  “Christine must know where to find the others,” said Thomas. “With your permission, I will contact the Worthy Matron and send someone to take care of the problem.”

  With that question Thomas could feel the rage building in the Grand Master. Peter turned his back to Thomas to look out over the vast open land that surrounded P2’s initiation compound. At one time it was productive farmland. Cows and sheep roamed the hills, olive trees grew, and acres of grapevines covered the hills that produced wine and olive oil. The monks from the abbey, he could see off in the distance, had attended to the land during that time.

  As he stared at the peak of the old abbey, he contemplated why so many would give up everything, all worldly possessions to preach or follow the words of one they had never even seen.

  Peter did not turn around but the words Thomas would never forget, “They have disappeared.”

  CHAPTER 80

  Anthony and Father Cossa stood there for a moment looking at the ancient artifact lying on the table in front of them. They both realized that they were in the presence of something sacred.

  “Well Father,” said Anthony, “I believe it was God’s plan for us to discover this scroll. What we will find inside it I do not know but there is a reason why we now have it in our possession. Since you chose to follow Our Lord’s calling to the priesthood as did Saint Anthony, I believe you should have the honors.”

  Father Cossa looked at Anthony, then at the sacred scroll, then back at Anthony. He didn’t feel worthy. The realization that he could soon be looking at the words the Lord spoke to a young monk centuries ago rendered him immobile.

  “Father, are you all right?” asked Anthony.

  The priest seemed to be in a trance. Then Father Cossa’s lips moved.

  He spoke so softly Anthony wasn’t sure what he said but then he saw the priest’s hands begin to move slowly towards the scroll. They were shaking. Anthony hadn’t noticed before but they were the hands of a scholar that turned pages of books and lovingly transcribed words onto paper, not hands that had seen manual labor.

  All of a sudden Father Cossa grasped his hands, trying to stop them from shaking.

  “Just take your time, Father,” said Anthony but the priest pulled his hands back towards his body.

  “No Anthony, you and Antonella were named after our beloved Saint Anthony. If your sister is the Chosen One, then she should be the one to open this sacred scroll.”

  Anthony realized Father Cossa was right. He turned, looking at his sister; Nelli nodded and took the place of Father Cossa.

  Taking a deep breath, she leaned closer to the table and gently touched the leather ties wrapped around the scroll. The others watched as Nelli ran her fingers around the knot and the leather strap, letting them guide her.

  “Remarkable, after all this time the leather has not dried out,” she said speaking to no one in particular. “It’s stiff, but not brittle.”

  Nelli leaned even closer to the scroll and softly massaged the knot working to loosen it. The others in the room barely breathed—worried that might cause the scroll to crumble into a million pieces.

  “Let your sense of touch and Saint Anthony guide you Nelli,” Anthony said.

  After a while the knot began to loosen and the two leather ties gently fell to each side. The rolled sheepskin loosened slightly as if it had taken its first breath after a very long time.

  Father Cossa made the sign of the cross. His mouth was moving but no sound came from his lips. The Chosen One seemed to be encircled by the same Holy Presence that surrounded the scroll.

  Suddenly, Nelli let go of the scroll, watching as letters of light were being revealed through the sheepskin.

  “Do you see them?” Nelli said in awe. “It’s the same writing that we saw back in the chapel.”

  Anthony and Father Cossa looked at each other puzzled. All they saw was a rolled up sheepskin.

  Nelli sensed a new presence in the room and then heard her father’s voice as if he was standing right next to her.

  “Dear Antonella, we are here with you, all the past Keepers of the Key. Remember to be pure of heart. If you are, you have nothing to fear.”

  Then the letters slowly disappeared and the scroll returned back to normal.

  “Did you hear him, Anthony?”

  “Hear who, Nelli?”

  “Father, he was just here. He was talking to me.”

  “No, I didn’t hear anything.”

  Nelli looked at Anthony and saw the sadness in his eyes. She knew he would have loved to hear their father’s voice and be able to speak with him, but she also knew that he had accepted the roles they had each been chosen for. She turned her attention back to the scroll. The others in the room watched . . . mesmerized.

  She slowly began unrolling the sheepskin. The letters became words, words she could not read but that appeared to be alive as if they were a living and breathing entity. They were the words a young monk was commanded to write down 600 years earlier. There was nothing more she could do. It was up to Father Cossa and Anthony now to translate the ancient writing.

  Father Cossa had his notebook open and was already working on trying to decode the manuscript. Just before the priest made the decision that Nelli should be the one to open the scroll, Mary Ellen placed a call to Cardinal McKenna. With what the cardinal had told her and what she was witnessing, it was almost more than she could absorb.

  Nelli stepped aside so that Anthony and Father Cossa could work on deciphering the letters that lay before them. There were no words to explain what had just happened to her. The only thing she knew was she was exhausted.

  Anthony watched Nelli turn and walk over to the sofa. There was something different about her, when she touched the scroll it seemed as if she and the scroll became one. So much has happened in such a short time; the death of their father, coming to Italy, and the discovery of the stigmata on Nelli’s hand. And, making the calls to the other Guardians to announce that the Chosen One was among them . . . and Mary Ellen coming back into his life. He worried would he be strong enough to protect his sister against the forces that wanted to stop her?

  Nelli sat down and rested her head against one of the pillows on the sofa, her eyes already starting to close. Looking up, Anthony saw Mary Ellen standing off to the side. He could see her mind was somewhere else.

  Turning to Father Cossa, he said, “I’ll be right back Father,” and he walked over to Mary Ellen.

  “Mary Ellen,” said Anthony, gently touching her arm. She looked at him with a blank stare. He touched her arm again.

  “Mary Ellen, did you get hold of Cardinal McKenna?”

  Suddenly she realized Anthony had asked her a question.

  “Yes, I did Anthony.”

  “And what did he tell you?”

  “It looks as if he might be right about what could be ha
ppening. It’s no wonder I could never clear Devlin’s name. He is only one out of thousands being used as puppets to achieve the goal of someone completely evil.”

  “What is it he uncovered?” Anthony asked, almost afraid to hear what she had to say.

  “Do you remember when you told me about the prophecy of Saint Anthony and a time could come when a serpent with the head of a cobra would rise again?”

  “Yes, of course, it was all because of that card with the embossed cobra head on it that you received.”

  “Cardinal McKenna has discovered that a secret society called P2 is headed by a man they call the Grand Master. During their initiation ceremony he is addressed as the Naj Hannah. Do you know what the name means?”

  Anthony could see the fear in Mary Ellen’s eyes.

  “Translated it means King Cobra. It is believed by some that P2 was behind the short life of Pope John Paul I. P2 members had infiltrated into the Vatican, bishops and even cardinals were believed to be members of this secret society. It was thought that the goal of the Naj Hannah was to proclaim himself Pope, the new representative of God on earth and to create a New World Order, which would rule over all religions and all governments. He would become known as the Antichrist. There’s more Anthony. You won’t believe what I have to tell you next. The initiation compound is not far from here. It’s just outside of Pesaro. The cardinal fears we could be in danger.”

  “Well, unfortunately, we have already found that out Mary Ellen,” said Anthony.

  “He believes Cardinal Cavallari in the Vatican belongs to P2 and that each member wears a ring that covers a small tattoo of a cobra’s head. By twisting the ring and exposing the tattoo, they affirm to one another their membership in P2. Devlin noticed a similar behavior among certain members of the LC.”

  “Is Cardinal McKenna worried about his safety?” Anthony inquired.

  “He knows he’s being watched. He’s meeting with the Commander of the Swiss Guard to present his findings. He believes time is crucial. Whatever is going to happen, is going to happen soon.”

  “What did you tell him about Nelli?”

  “Nothing, but I think he suspects something,” she said. “All he said was: I pray that the book is found soon. He will call back after his meeting with the commander.”

  “We have to find that book,” said Anthony with a sense of urgency.

  “What can I do to help?” asked Mary Ellen.

  “Nothing at the moment, I pray Father Cossa and I can translate what’s written in the scroll and that it tells us where the book is hidden,” he responded.

  “What if it doesn’t Anthony?”

  “I’ll cross that bridge when the time comes. Nelli is being guided by a power greater than all of us. I will do what I can and wait to be shown the next step to take.”

  “There’s got to be something I can do to help,” Mary Ellen pleaded.

  “I know you want to help but right now Father Cossa and I need to decipher the scroll. You could help me by watching over Nelli and getting some rest.”

  Mary Ellen looked at Anthony with respect and admiration. Her feelings for him were returning. She had been foolish to push him away because of her preoccupation with clearing her brother’s name. She was never able to prove his innocence. Finally, she was learning why with the help of Anthony and Nelli.

  CHAPTER 81

  Grabbing a cup of coffee and some food, Mary Ellen sat down in the chair next to where Nelli was sleeping. Sipping her coffee, she watched Anthony and Father Cossa studying the scroll.

  Pulling up the Internet on her phone, she googled Saint Anthony, a long list of websites appeared. Opening the first, she started looking for any reference to a private journal or manuscript kept by the monk. As she was doing that, across the room Anthony was trying to decipher the writing using the boustrophedon algorithm. Father Cossa worked on transposing the letters from Greek to English.

  “More coffee, Father?” asked Anthony.

  “Si, perhaps you could just bring the thermos over here. We have a long night ahead of us.”

  As Anthony walked over to get more coffee, he saw that Nelli was still asleep and Mary Ellen’s head was now resting on the back of the chair with her eyes closed. It felt good knowing for now that the two most important women in his life were safe. He wondered what would happen once they found the book, or worse, if they didn’t find it.

  “Don’t dwell on what ifs,” he told himself. “It wasn’t by accident, their meeting Father Cossa and then finding the scroll.”

  The priest stared at the words in front of him. Turning around looking for Anthony, he frantically motioned for him to return.

  Grabbing the thermos, Anthony headed back to the table. “What is it? Did you find where the book is hidden?”

  “Saint Anthony was known as the greatest thaumaturgist and teacher of the Scriptures,” said Father Cossa. “It was believed that nothing was left of his sermons or lectures, the primitive ones as well as the legendary ones.”

  “So how does that help us here?” asked Anthony.

  “There were three well-known manuscripts scholars have hoped one day to find: Expositio in Psalmos written at Montpellier in 1224; Sermones de tempore; and Sermones de Sanctis written at Padua between 1229 and 1230. I believe this scroll is the first of the three I just mentioned, Expositio in Psalmos.

  Anthony remembered reading something about these during his research on Saint Anthony and realized what a great discovery it would be if they weren’t facing the possible demise of Christianity. Trying to remain calm, he responded, “Father I realize what an archaeological discovery this could be, but we have a much more pressing problem.”

  Father Cossa was busy writing in his notebook and wasn’t listening.

  Anthony snapped at the priest, “Have you forgotten what is at stake here, Father? We need to find a book that could save the souls of millions. If this manuscript doesn’t tell us where to find it, then it is irrelevant.”

  Father Cossa looked up and saw the indignation in Anthony’s face. He smiled.

  “Do not despair, my son, I believe Saint Anthony has hidden within this manuscript what the Chosen One needs to know.”

  For a moment, Anthony had allowed his anger to cloud his judgment. He had jumped to a conclusion without having all the information. He flashed back to the summers when he and the eleven other boys were taught that anger serves no purpose; it only prevents one from moving forward.

  More calmly this time, Anthony asked, “Have you found something that can show us where to look?”

  “I believe so. Cryptology has been a passion of mine. The originator of an encrypted document shared the decoding technique only with intended recipients, thereby preventing unwanted persons from being able to read the message they are sending without having the secret knowledge of the code.

  “The boustrophedon text that we see here is taken from the Greek language. It is a type of bi-directional text, which you spoke of back in the chapel. What is unique is there were additional twists, which were used to confuse the decoder even more. A boustrophedonic script called Rongorongo has remained undeciphered to this day. I have been trying to break the code but never had an example of writings to work with until today.

  “It is used in combination with the bi-directional text, an upside down and a reverse boustrophedon. In addition there were no spaces between words and it was written, albeit irregularly: reading from top to bottom, lines 1, 3, 5, 7, 9, 11, 12, 14, 16 run from right to left; lines 2, 4, 6, 8, 10, 13, and 15, from left to right; 8, 9 and 16 are upside down.

  “Please write down exactly what I tell you. When we are finished, I believe the message Saint Anthony cleverly hid within this manuscript will be revealed to us.”

  CHAPTER 82

  Nelli opened her eyes and saw her brother and Father Cossa across the room in deep conversation. To her left, Mary Ellen was asleep and Andrew and Mattithyahu were stationed on opposite sides of the library, standing guard. There was a
new person in the room standing off to the right. He must have come in while she was asleep.

  “Ah, you are awake,” said the stranger walking towards her, “You needed to sleep.”

  He was dressed in an old fashion monk’s cassock. Because of the brown color of his vestments she wondered what religious order he was from. Still not completely awake, she watched the monk sit down next to her. There was something familiar about him. Then her eyes grew wide.

  “Yes, Antonella it is me,” said Saint Anthony, smiling at her. “The end of your journey is drawing near. Anthony and the Guardians will keep you safe. You possess everything you need to unlock a gift I was given a long time ago. When you find it, deliver it to the one who waits for you.”

  “How will I know where to look?” asked Nelli.

  “When the time comes, those who trust in the Lord will be shown the way. I must depart now, but know I am always right here beside you.”

  Out of the corner of his eye Anthony saw that Nelli was waking up.

  “I’m glad you were able to get some rest,” he said.

  “What are you talking about? I was talking to …. ” she turned her head to look at Saint Anthony, but no one was there.

  “No, Nelli you just woke up.”

  “How long was I asleep?”

  “Almost two hours,” Anthony responded, guessing she’d had another vision.

  Looking over at him, Nelli confirmed what he had already surmised.

  Hearing Nelli, Mary Ellen woke up, knocking the plate of food off the table. “Did something happen?”

  “I believe Nelli might have something to tell everyone,” said Anthony.

  Nelli sat quietly for a moment and then in a calm and steady voice relayed her conversation with Saint Anthony word-for-word. No one in the room even questioned that it wasn’t the truth.

  “While you were asleep, I believe Father Cossa and I have deciphered a passage from the scroll.”

  All eyes in the room now converged on Anthony.