Awaken_A Rose Caldwell Tale

by JM Bannon

  This was the first time Rose had seen the man angry and her fears for him grew. As she thought how much she had learnt and come to understand under his tutelage, her eyes began to fill with tears at the prospect she might lose him.

  “Don’t you worry about me, I have conferred with specialists and expect a full recovery. Already we have seen the growth eaten away,” he said as he turned back to the alcove.

  “Now then did you say yes to tea?”

  Rose nodded in agreement.

  * * *

  “Good I feel I could use a cup.” He poured from the flask into two slightly battered mugs, brought them over and placed one in front of Rose.

  He took a sip from the other.”Aah that’s better, now let me think. Where did I… yes there…” He pulled a, thick leather-bound volume from a high shelf and handed it to Rose.

  “This is Roger Bacon’s Epistola de Secretis Operibus Artis et Naturae et de Nullitate Magiae written in the 13th Century. It was used as a source by many of the alchemists including Dee and Kelly,” said Cooper. “I got many a strange look when I collected that from my dealer friend in London,” he added.

  Rose took the book and held it gently, running her fingers over the title. “I have read about Bacon of course, and this will help me so much to understand Kelly’s words. I cannot thank you enough, but I cannot take it I do not have the money to buy it.”

  “It is yours Rose,” for the first time Cooper used her given name instead of Sister. “You have become like a daughter to me. I am proud to see how you have embraced the written word. I must tell you that your book selections are now getting beyond what I can access here in Chester.

  We are too far from the center of things here, London, Oxford, Cambridge or even Ross on Wye would be a better source for you”.

  Rose gave Cooper a smile and took the book, “Thank you James. Your tutelage and friendship has meant so much to me and I cherish our time together.”

  “As do I,” Cooper smiled and added,” worry not, Sister Rose, I plan to be around for quite some time; watching you devour these books and becoming the smartest nun in England.”

  Chapter Seven: Monday the 20th of September 1852

  10:30 PM, The Reliquary, Carmelite Convent, Chester England

  Rose sat down at the main table in the Reliquary, the lighting was marginally better than her cell and she could spread out her piles of books on the larger table.

  Following on from her conversation with Mr. Cooper, she had found mention of the Banshee in Irish Folklore. The Banshee was one aspect of three sisters, the Morrighan or Morriganu, and they were known as Nemain, Badb and Macha.

  When the three were one, they would or could take the form of a huge grey wolf as well as appear as the Banshee.

  “Cooper had found her a book called “The Ancient Irish Goddess of War" which told her a lot about the three sisters who were also known as the ‘Three Hags’.

  In Welsh, Scots and Irish Celtic legends, Badb was associated with war and death, appearing either to foreshadow imminent bloodshed or to participate in battles, where she created mayhem among the soldiers. She would take the form of a wolf and preside over the battlefields, favoring warriors with her cunning.

  Her sister Macha, would also strike fear in the hearts of men but she was known too as a protector of the land and fields and horses. She would take on the aspect of a Raven of large size as she flew across the battlefield.

  The third sister Nemain, personified the frenzied havoc of war. Warriors acted in panic and confusion, striking down anyone near them as she passed, and her scream rang out. It was in this role that she often appeared as a large grey horse with flaming mane and tail ready to rain down pain and fire on mortal men.

  Rose could not understand how and why these pagan myths had for so long appeared in her dreams.

  She made notes in a small notebook she kept as a journal, she would need to purchase another one when funds allowed. Maybe Papa would pay her a little for helping out with the mill accounts for an hour or so if she could get away. As it was despite writing in a small crabbed hand she was almost out of space.

  It was reminiscent of Kelly’s journal in that it had no linear sequence, but rather was a collection of thoughts and ideas jotted down as and when she could or thought of them.

  On the page she wrote Morrighan, next to it she wrote Marbas. She had been unable to locate a connection.

  While there were a lot of books in the Reliquary and Mr. Cooper had given her access to many more, they did not cover the field of demons, legends and spirits in any great depth. What she knew at the moment was pieced together from small snippets in many books.

  She had found a reference to Marbas which said he was described in the ‘Pseudomonarchia Daemonum’ a tome from the 16th century. Good luck in finding that in a small convent library!

  Rose snapped out of her musings when she heard the door to the Reliquary open and close. She knew the shuffling of Madeline’s slippered feet on the stone floor and turned to see the old nun.

  “Why am I not surprised to still see you here?” Sighed Madeline.

  “Forgive me Sister, I am almost finished and did not realize the hour,” Rose was duly subservient and contrite.

  “Don’t fib to me! I know you are in here all hours reading those books when you should be in your room praying.”

  Madeline’s key-ring clunked on the table when she dropped them in front of Rose.

  “Well if you are determined on reading every book in the convent, then you may as well lock up when you are done. I am going to bed!”

  “Please Sister Madeline, forgive me, but, why is it that you seem to hate these books so much when you are the Librarian?”

  Madeline regarded her, mouth pursed as she pondered her response.

  “You were fortunate to not be here when we arrived at the convent to reestablish our sisterhood. The monks who were supposed to clean it were no better than buffoons. It was in a terrible state. It took us weeks to get the place clean enough to live in. Those selected to undertake this holy work of returning the relic to the convent felt honored by God to be given the task, but …. we left so much…..”

  Her head dropped, eyes looking into the past.

  “Then when we had cleaned till all was sparkling, I was tasked with unpacking crate after crate of books. For days and then months I unpacked crates and boxes checking the books and scrolls against the inventory the Mother House had provided.”

  “Was I helped! Non, les merdes left me to this.”

  She put her hand to her mouth to hide a little grin as she realized she had spoken aloud. It made her look like a girl again. Rose bowed her head to hide a grin of her own, she understood that much French! Madeline muttered a prayer for forgiveness before continuing.

  “When the shelves were full,” she gestured around the room, “there were still more crates to unpack but no more room. Mother Superior said I should resolve the matter as I see fit but to make sure the books were preserved. So, I put the lids back on any opened crates and moved all of them down there.” She pointed to the floor.

  Rose followed her pointing finger and realized with a jolt that there in the corner was not solid floor as she had always thought, but a trap door. How had she not realized? It must be incredibly sturdy to not creak when walked on.

  “I went to Mother Superior and said I was done. Her reward for all that hard work was to give me those keys and make my station the Librarian. Now everyone assumes I should read or like to read but I never have, so I am obedient and do not question the will of the Lord,”

  She glared at Rose, “So I who was one of the finest cooks in the convent, have for ten years, ten years!” Her voice was becoming shrill,

  “For ten years I have been forced to sit in this dismal place day after day putting away books the others have taken out and eating the swill that Sister Anne thinks is fit food for us!”

  “No, I take it back. That is too insulting to swill! Her tasteless pap! We c
ould be eating the finest of country food, the vegetables we have in the garden, the chickens, the rabbits oh la! All turned into grey mush by that imbecile!”

  Sister Madeline turned away and shuffled out of the room muttering to herself. Rose sat there, mouth open in bemusement. She had never heard Sister Madeline talk so much and in such a manner.

  Rose’s gaze went back to the books on the table, then to the shelves around her. Sister Madeline’s words echoed in her head. Did she really want to spend her life, year after year, in a task selected for her by another, whether she wanted to do it or not?

  Rose reflected on her choice, at sixteen had she known enough of life to choose to leave it and enter a convent?

  She sighed.

  Rose had committed her life to the service of God, believing that here, within the walls of the Convent, she would find the help and guidance that would lead her to an understanding of her dreams which seemed to resonate with a deep spiritual meaning.

  Of late however, she found herself questioning that commitment. She had not found the guidance she sought.

  She had with the help of the books and James Cooper learnt more in the last year than in all of her previous time in the convent. She sighed, then stood and went over to the case holding the relic.

  Rose opened the case and the box holding the skull. She felt certain that the skull held answers to the illness of the children and also to the future.

  She slowly lifted out the skull and held it up in front of her. There was nothing, no thrill passed from the relic into her. She closed her eyes and offered a silent prayer to the saint. Still there were no sensations from the skull or any intrusion into her mind heralding another vision.

  With a heavy sigh Rose replaced the skull in its box and closed the case. She turned to the table and her books. All of a sudden, she felt weary, it had been a long day and it was past time for her to go to bed. She stacked her books and took them over to her hiding place. They were hidden in plain sight on the shelves along with the rest of the books only in the furthest corner. Her journal she tucked under arm then lifted the oil lamp and the keys sister Madeline had left.

  She made her way to the door, her feet heavy and her steps slowed by disappointment.

  At the door she turned and looked around the room again, lit only by the lamp much of it was shadowed and hidden just as the objects of her investigation seemed to be hidden from her.

  She lifted the keys in her hand looking for the key to the reliquary door when a thought stopped her.

  She had the keys!

  The keys that opened everything in the reliquary! She looked to the corner where the hatch to the cellar lay hidden in the shadows. Guiltily she looked around then laughed, there was no one else here to see her. Still she felt a faint frisson on the back of her neck that said someone was watching her.

  She had the keys to that hatchway and there were more books down there, her curiosity to know the full extent of the collection pulled on her to have a peek.

  She placed her journal back on the table and with the lamp held high stepped over to the hatchway. Kneeling she tried the first likely looking key in the lock.

  The third key she had tried had opened the door. Now she stood at the bottom of a short flight of stone steps. She was surprised how big the cellar actually was. It was larger than the library above, there were dozens of crates some opened, others sealed. Rose began rummaging through the open cases; moving from crate to crate gently lifting out one book after another. She was amazed at the number of volumes that had been below her feet all this time, almost forgotten and lost.

  She lifted the lid from one of the crates and balanced the lamp on another to free her hands. She slowly lifted out first one then another large folio volume.

  She ran her fingers over the title of the first book embossed on the cover.

  ‘De Heptarchia Mystica,’ Could it be? Could it be John Dee’s ‘On the Mystical Rule of the Seven Planets’?

  The second was ‘The Alchemical Writings of Edward Kelly’.

  She put her hand to her breast, her heart stuttered in her chest. It was impossible! Two books that expanded on the reading she was undertaking. She took another book from the crate and held it up to the light.

  There was no title on the cover or spine of the book but when she opened it the reason for the convent to have the contents of this case became clearer.

  ‘Observations and conclusions on the writings of Dee and Kelley, their reliance on Bacon and their significance to the Holy Roman Church.’

  Underneath this verbose title was written ‘The thoughts of Mother Superior Abigail de Argentat.’ It was dated 1745.

  The next book’s title page was

  * * *

  ‘A true & faithful relation of what passed for many yeers between Dr. John Dee (a mathematician of great fame in Q. Eliz. and King James their reignes) and some spirits: tending (had it succeeded) to a general alteration of most states and kingdomes in the world. His private conferences with Rodolphe Emperor of Germany, Stephen K. of Poland, and divers other princes about it. The particulars of his cause, as it was agitated in the Emperors court; by the Popes intervention: his banishment, and restoration in part. As also the letters of sundry great men and princes (some whereof were present at some of these conferences and apparitions of spirits:) to the said Dr. Dee. Out of the original copy, written with Dr. Dees own hand: kept in the library of Sir Tho. Cotton, Kt. Baronet / With a preface confirming the reality (as to the point of spirits) of this relation: and shewing the several good uses that a sober Christian may make of all. By Meric. Casaubon, D.D.

  Her heart skipped a beat as she put it on top of the others.

  She lifted another book, the title was also by John Dee, ‘Quinti Libri Mysteriorum’ , Dee’s listing of the four watchtowers and the Enochian angels.

  The next leather-bound book she took from the crate was also some form of personal journal. She read the first page and realized that this was the journal of a Sister of the original convent in Chester after the reformation and who later became Mother Superior following the order’s exile to France.

  The last volume in the crate was also a journal but from a later period. She read the first page and realized that here was an answer, one amongst many she sought.

  It offered answers as to why these books were here and possibly to what was happening now. Flicking through the pages she could see the small beautiful calligraphy of an educated person, written in modern Latin. She turned back to the title page. There was inscribed,

  * * *

  ‘Et pugna contra mala propter populum, qui circum et circum Cestriae ‘.

  She translated it in her head.

  ‘An account of the fight against evil that doth invest the environs and peoples of Chester’.

  The date on the flyleaf was 1780, less than a hundred years ago.

  She hugged the journal to her chest then picked up the other books, the lamp and went upstairs to read.

  She started with the oldest of the books, John Dee’s ‘On the Mystical Rule of the Seven Planets’.

  His vision of the world as one of many, where a man could see, through the tools of fortune telling and science, the unseen resonated in her mind.

  Dee’s writing was primarily in Latin, but also contained passages filled with symbols and numbers, coordinates and dates. To those that could read Latin, this text verged on lunacy, with no coherent trail to follow.

  As she read the tome, she struggled to reconcile the clearly heretical writings concerning occult and mystic practices with the manner in which its view of the world and worlds beyond, the piercing of veils between the worlds talked to her heart.

  An element of what she read was reminiscent of a recent pamphlet by the Necronist cult with its claims that they were through the use of ancient Egyptian scrolls able to converse with the dead. She had read it, though not thoroughly, the last time she was at Cooper’s shop.

  Then she saw it, towards the end of the bo
ok, Dee described his scrying tool that permitted him to pierce the veil and thus foresee the future. An obsidian mirror, with a beaten gold frame, looted from an Aztec city by Conquistadors and liberated from one of their treasure galleons by an English privateer and delivered to the court of Elisabeth.

  She turned to Meric. Casaubon’s book with its long-winded title that clearly had insights into the activities of Dee.

  She read through the book just scanning the pages for now looking for reference to the mirror. She came across more details about half way through and read the passages concerning the mirror.

  How Dee obtained it was not made clear, but a likely guess was that Elisabeth had gifted it to her court astronomer. He had little success with the artifact until he collaborated with Kelley.

  Its current whereabouts were according to the book unknown.

  Rose had heard but ignored the bells for prayers throughout the night, but the growing light outside the windows of the room and an empty feeling in her stomach made her pause. She squinted and rubbed her eyes realizing that the night had passed and she had barely finished looking at just two of the books she had found.

  She needed to read further, but how could she continue to access the books? She couldn’t keep them in her cell there wasn’t room besides there were the rules about books in cells only the bible was permitted and a personal journal.

  If she put them back would she have the keys again? She looked around her, eyes blurry, was there space here? Yes! If she took some of the books at the far end of that shelf and put them in the cellar, then these books could replace them.

  Quickly she put her plan into operation and as the bell for breakfast rang left the Reliquary, her mind churning at what she had learnt.

  Chapter Eight: Thursday the 23th of September 1852