by D. N. Carter
“It is a mixed game stew, so fear not, there are no forbidden meats in it,” the old man said looking at Taqi. Taqi lifted his wooden spoon and was about to dip it into the bowl when the old man coughed slightly. Taqi looked up, and then quickly repositioned his spoon back down.
The old man bowed his head and closed his eyes and cupped his hands in prayer.
“Without Thy presence, nought, O Lord, is sweet. No pleasure to our lips can aught supply. Whether ’tis wine we drink or food we eat, Till Grace divine and Faith shall sanctify, amen,” he said softly then immediately picked up his spoon as Paul also whispered “Amen”. They ate the meal in total silence. Taqi finished first and sat back placing his hands upon his belly and smiled. Paul dipped some of the bread into his bowl to wipe away the last vestiges of the meal. Only when he too had finished did the old man speak. “You learn fast, boys. It takes years to become skilled at building those fences and walls, yet today in just one afternoon, you have managed it,” he said, looking at them. His comments made Taqi smile, almost proud. “This meal was my offering and thanks to you both. For you did not have to return today and make amends,” he continued.
“Er, yes we did. Our fathers demanded it of us,” Taqi replied instantly.
“That is true, but you did far more than was required. You could have refused.”
“We could have, but you said you would tell us a secret,” Paul replied hesitantly.
“Even if no secret was offered, you would still have done it, for it is in your natures,” the old man said, as he stood up and took out a candle from a small wooden drawer. Taqi and Paul looked at each other as the old man fumbled around looking for a lighting stick. Eventually he found one and placed it in the small fire under the cooking pot. It lit instantly and then he gently used it to light the candle, then placed it inside the Lanthorn. It was getting dark outside and the candle spread light over the table as he sat himself back down. “I promised you a secret, and a secret I shall tell you. You may not understand it yet, but I promise you, you will one day,” he said quietly.
“So a riddle we will never work out. Huh!” Taqi retorted, folding his arms. Paul looked at him disapprovingly. Taqi shrugged his shoulders.
“I will not keep you late. And before you go, I must re-dress that wound for you have dirtied the bandage,” the old man said pointing to the square white, mud spattered bandage still stuck to Paul’s face. “Do you know what the Cabbala is and numerology?” he then asked outright.
“I have heard of these, and I know a little about numerology for I love the art of Gematria, but the Cabbala I have only heard scant details,” Paul answered as Taqi shot a look of surprise at him and shook his head he did not.
“My secret to you is this. Somewhere here, not so very far, is buried, more correctly, hidden, a key…a key that will help unlock a greater mystery than you can possibly imagine,” the old man began.
“Excuse me, sire, but before you continue further, why, pray, tell are you telling us a secret for you do not even know us?” Paul interrupted.
“Yes, why, or is this some joke you play upon us?” Taqi interjected.
The old man smiled, paused for a moment then continued.
“I do not joke or mock you. You are both far too smart for that. I tell you this, and perhaps in time, you may not even thank me for telling you. You may actually learn to despise the day you heard it, but tell it I must,” he said looking at both of them in turn, his eyes clouded by the passage of time now becoming visible in the candle light. “It is a key of sorts shall we say. And I know you can both find it, if you so choose for I have consulted your charts as your fathers gave me some many years ago when you were but both babes in arms still,” he stated without even blinking or looking away. Taqi looked at Paul puzzled.
“What do you mean our charts?” Taqi asked, confused, raising his hands questioningly.
“Oh the usual details…your dates and places of birth, your parents’ same details,” the old man replied and smiled again. “Do not worry yourselves. It is not magic nor witchcraft nor heretical practices that I employ. It is the same as used by what you know and call the Magi, or the three wise men as they are more commonly known to us. And from the calculations with your birth charts, I have glimpsed the paths that will open to you… should you choose to follow them,” he continued to explain and leaned forwards. Paul and Taqi did not know what to say. “You will always have three paths open to you as you walk this life, a life that is but one of many you have and will have. You have the right to free agency.”
“I am lost and confused,” Taqi said sitting back hard.
“I must confess so too am I. By what you say and for a lack of understanding why our fathers would give you our details in the first place,” Paul responded.
“They gave them to me to help them in their decision making, regarding what to do with you…but more importantly Alisha,” the old man explained and leaned upon his elbows.
Paul’s heart jumped upon hearing Alisha’s name.
“What has Alisha got to do with this and a simple fence that we broke?” Paul asked impatiently.
“Perhaps all…and perhaps nothing depending upon which path you all choose. For remember I have already explained, you will always have three paths you can follow,” he answered. Taqi shook his head slowly and started to pick at the small piece of bread still left on his plate. “Do not be alarmed, boys. What I saw is not all, for your fathers to know. I saw much…much more than I ever thought or suspected I would in this lifetime… and that is why I know I must explain part of a secret to you now, on this day; for my days are limited in number. But you have total freedom of choice. You will always have a choice,” the old man said and took the bread from Taqi, which surprised him.
“Then what is this secret?” Paul asked politely.
“Come, follow me,” the old man said as he stood up. He walked over to a small latch on the floor just inches away from the far wall of the room. Taqi stood as Paul sat and watched. The old man bent down, pulled the latch and began to lift a wooden hatch that a small rug had been placed over on the floor. As the rug slipped away, a large manhole was revealed with steps spiralling downwards.
“Erm, I am not sure I wish to go down there, thank you,” Taqi announced, pulling back.
“Why, are you scarred of the dark, spiders or that I have perhaps drugged you and intend to keep you locked up as my slaves?” the old man said with a wry smile. Paul stood up and looked down into the hole. The spiral stairs were carved directly into rock, not stone built, and clearly descended some way down vertically. “Come, you will see,” the old man said as he locked the hatch open against the wall with a vertical bolt, then began to descend the stairs.
Paul and Taqi looked at each other, shrugged and followed him, Paul going first as Taqi nudged him from behind. The stairs spiralled down many turns and widened as they descended, illuminated by small candles the old man lit in little recesses as they went. Eventually the stairs opened into a large underground crypt made from cut solid stone and finished off in white polished and dressed stones. The crypt was vaulted with twelve arches and columns that all converged at the top of the domed roof culminating in a stone rose. The temperature was ideal, not too hot neither too cold. It smelt surprisingly fresh. The floor was a perfectly flat stone one. As the old man lit a large oil lamp, the light from it filled the crypt revealing a single stone table stood in the centre of the room covered in instruments, parchments showing diagrams of various parts of the human body, charts showing sigils and symbols, and maps. Paul was immediately drawn to the maps. Several shelves and upright wooden cases held more rolled up parchments and large leather bound books. Paul could not hide his delight as he and Taqi looked around the immaculately clean crypt. Taqi went to pick up what looked like a round piece of brass with glass covering its surface. Beneath the glass it had a small needle that appeared to spin slightly.
“Do not touch anything, please,” the old man said abruptly. Taqi p
ulled back his hand immediately. The old man cleared a space on the large table and unrolled a leather bound scroll which contained two parchments. As he unfolded them, Taqi and Paul moved closer to see them as he laid them side by side. Quizzically they studied the strange symbols of dots, numbers, little stars and crescents and lines drawn all over them. Several were in the same positions on both parchments. As Paul leaned in closer he noticed the initial letters of his name on one and Taqi’s on the other. Many other letters, some he recognised, but many he did not, covered the right hand side of each parchment. Taqi shook his head and folded his arms. “These are your astrological charts, but combined with an older wisdom. Do not fear what they show, for they show great things indeed about you. Both of you,” the old man explained as he pointed out certain details that were easy to understand.
Paul studied and looked hard at three lines that had many symbols in them. Some were identical, others had spaces and one line had a skull and crossbones half way. Paul pointed to it as he checked to see if Taqi had the same symbol on any of his lines.
“Am I correct in assuming these lines are representative of the three paths, and does this somehow mean I will become a Templar, or is it death?” Paul asked hesitantly, gently tapping his finger on the skull and crossbones symbol. Taqi quickly looked at his chart closer.
“That, I cannot answer. The chart simply shows that at this junction in your life, you will have a choice to make, if you follow this path. It means death, yes, but clearly not physical as the line continues. But it means the death of something, be it a loved one that will profoundly change you, or the death of an idea. It could be the spiritual death of your present state as you transcend to a higher understanding,” the old man explained. Paul’s heart skipped a beat as he immediately thought of Alisha and that it could mean her death as she was the only one he could think of that would profoundly affect him if she died. Paul then saw the image of a sword piercing through what appeared to be a heart symbol. It was present on all three lines. He felt uncomfortable. Sensing this, the old man put a reassuring hand upon his shoulder and looked up at him. “Do not be alarmed. This is not prophecy as you understand it. Not mere fortune telling either. These are maps of your potential in life. All is governed by codes. These are simply calculated by using the details of your name, birth date, time and location,” he said softly.
“Some would say sorcery or magic,” Taqi remarked as he looked hard at his chart and tried to cross match his with Paul’s where they seemed to be identical.
“Some would…but they are the ill informed and ignorant. They walk in the darkness without proper knowledge and wisdom that is all. And look, you already partly understand without even realising it,” the old man said, pointing out how Taqi was linking identical symbols and images.
“This does not mean that I understand it,” he replied.
“You may take these with you as a gift for I have no further use of them. They are personal to you only. Do with them as you will for they have served me in what I needed to know,” the old man explained and began to roll Taqi’s parchment up tightly.
“But why, what purpose do these serve for you?” Paul asked. The old man said nothing as he tied and bound Taqi’s parchment within a leather envelope that rolled up and protected it. He handed it to Taqi then proceeded to do the same with Paul’s. When he had tied the last binding, he offered it to Paul, who reached to take it but as he grabbed it, the old man did not release his grip. Paul looked at him puzzled for a moment. “What, am I supposed to say something?” he asked.
“Thank you will suffice. But when you take it, understand this…I know I have to pass on a key of wisdom to you. It was written in my charts many many moons ago. And I will teach you as much as I can with the limited time I have left if you are interested and willing,” the old man explained as Taqi listened intently, still confused but sensing the reverential sentiment behind what the man was trying to say. “Know that a key does exist hidden here, where the square meets the corner, the corner of which is the top,” he continued slowly. Taqi and Paul looked at each other even more perplexed. The old man could see the obvious confusion and let out a small laugh. “Where the square meets the corner, the corner of which is the top, is all that you need remember for now. Along with this passage,” he said and pulled out two small parchment strips with ‘Psalm 82:6’ written on them. “Again, it is your choice whether you look this up and start your journeys,” he explained, his voice softer now, more in keeping with his frail demeanour. “And tell no one, truly, no one of this place. That is my only condition if you wish to learn from me,” he finished and started to extinguish the oil lamp.
Port of La Rochelle, France, Melissae Inn, spring 1191
“Sounds too much like magic if you ask me,” the fishmonger said, pulling a jug of wine nearer to himself. Slowly he poured some as the old man looked at him in silence.
“Magic you say. But I dare say you do not even understand the word magic itself,” the old man stated. The fishmonger placed the wine jug down and looked at him and frowned not sure whether he was being insulted or not. “The word magic is all related and connected to Egyptian symbology that has been carried directly over into our own Christian symbolism and iconography. But please do not be afraid or put off by the word magic as it comes from the root word ‘Magi’, as in the three wise men whom you all know attended the birth of our Lord saviour…and do we not still say amen at the end of our prayers, for amen is purely an Egyptian expression, not Christian. But then again, the word Christian is a peculiar relatively modern term too,” the old man explained. As he looked around the room, several shook their heads, puzzled. “In Arab countries to this day, the word used to describe Jesus and his followers is not ‘Christians’ but ‘Nazara’. This is confirmed in the Islamic Qur’an, and the word means ‘keepers’ or ‘guardians’. You knights will probably be familiar with this word from your Orders, especially Templars, who are known as Guardians and Keepers of the Covenant. The full definition of ‘Nazara ha-Brit’ means ‘Keepers of the Covenant’. The ‘Brit’ aspect of that is the very root of the country name of Britain, originally Britannia. Brit-ain actually means ‘Covenant-land’. The expression ‘Keepers of the Covenant’ is very similar to the meaning of the very name ‘Knights Templar’. And as I have explained, in the Bible there is the account of the ‘Three Wise Men’. They were more accurately called ‘The Three Magi’ known for their knowledge and Magic with a profound understanding of herbs and their uses. Alchemy would be Magic to the uneducated. Knowledge is everything; the use of specially blended herbs to cure a disease would be viewed as a ‘Miracle’. What is less well known however is that they were also known as ‘Nazars’. Ever wondered why Jesus was later named Jesus of Nazareth, even though we know this is not where he came from? How can you explain where the name Nazarene came from?” he detailed as silence fell upon all in the room, all looking at each other bewildered almost. “I must tell you that in Egypt, everything you think you know about Jesus ultimately traces itself back there, there is an ancient city called ‘Nazara’. The Magi were often reputed to have come from Nazara and were known as Nazarenes. Ask yourselves, did these ‘Three Wise Men’ become the teachers of Jesus, ‘Keepers of the Knowledge’, the sacred knowledge taught to initiates of the Nazara? And true ‘Baptism’ performed by John the Baptist was just the initiation ceremony, more correctly, the graduation of the knowledge! It is but perhaps a coincidence, but Salah al Din Yusif ibn Ayyub is known to his Muslim contemporaries as Nasi, but to us simply as Saladin,” the old man finished.
“Old man, all of what you say has passed over me for I do not understand what you say. The only part I do understand and that may be real if what you say is true, is about the crypt and if so, then it is still under the chapel, yes?” the Genoese sailor asked chewing openly on some cheese as he spoke, his gravelly voice making the fishmonger shoot a look of disgust at him.
“It may well be. Who knows?” the old man replied.
“No…Besides, I have never been to the crypt. I only have the word of those who have been,” the old man sighed in answer and looked at them all just as Sarah entered the room. She had been listening to the old man as she cleaned away food items. Her interest pricked, she wished to hear more now. She looked at the old man as she dried her hands on a cloth and motioned with her eyes to the open space nearest to him. He looked at the empty space then her again and nodded. Quickly she moved round the table and sat herself down. Stephan smiled broadly at her.
“Thought you were off to bed,” Stephan mocked.
“I was, but I overheard and now I want to know more, so go on. I want to know what the boys did with the parchments,” she said in an excited manner. The old man looked at her and smiled, but a sad smile. “If you don’t mind?” she said softly and gripped his hand briefly.
“The parchments!…well the boys rushed home in the dark with the intent of showing them to their fathers and burst into the cooking hall excitedly, only to be greeted by Raja, the squire Simon and Alisha, who sat at the main table alone. Their fathers were out attending to business securing a ship’s passage back to Tortosa.