'The colors come from powdered carbon, ochre, and iron oxide, mixed with animal fat and blood. The technique is known as polychrome,' Gerrard said, 'and there are only two other sites, Lascaux and Altamira, where it was used to such a degree. Immensely sophisticated. Superbly executed. The greatest artwork that human beings have ever created. Because the message is the greatest – the enormous vitality of nature. But as the green mold on the paintings at Lascaux makes clear, our interference with nature has caused its vitality to be weakened to the point of extinction. We have a sacred responsibility. At any cost, the sickness of the planet must be reversed.'
Tess felt increasingly overpowered by what she was seeing.
And increasingly fearful.
Bulls. Like flames and crosses, so much of this nightmare had to do with bulls, and while her gaze pivoted along a wall, across the brilliant multi- colored bulls, she suddenly froze at the sight of one bull that was larger than all the others. Instead of having been portrayed in red, black, and brown, it was monochrome, the white of chalk, like the bull in the statue, and its head was raised in agony, a spearlike barbed line projecting through its neck.
Tess followed the direction of the white bull's anguished expression and whimpered when she saw another locked iron door.
What had Gerrard just said? We have a sacred responsibility. At any cost, the sickness of the planet must be reversed. And earlier, Fulano had said that this chamber was the next-to-ultimate revelation. What was behind the door?
'This is the only example of a violent image in the cave.' Fulano interrupted her urgent, panicked thoughts. 'But my ancestor wasn't puzzled. He understood the necessity for the violence in the painting, and he also understood that the color of the bull, its whiteness, was a sign. He knew precisely what he had to do.'
Tess gripped Craig's hand, watching Fulano unlock the door, then shove it open, the shriek of its hinges making her spine quiver.
'Somehow I don't think we're going to see more paintings,' Craig said.
'You assume correctly,' Fulano said. 'What you're going to see is the truth.'
Tess gripped Craig's hand much harder. In dismay, she hesitated. But Hugh Kelly and the guards urged her onward. With dread, her stomach cramping, she had to step through the door.
TWELVE
The cavern was dim, illuminated sparsely not by lightbulbs but by torches. The cavern became darker when Fulano shut and locked the door, blocking the light from the bulbs in the chamber of the bulls.
'The floor is damp but level. You shouldn't have trouble maintaining your balance,' Gerrard said, reassuringly. Their footsteps echoed. As Tess approached the first of the torches, she saw that it was made of stone and anchored into the cavern's floor. At the top, a basin was filled with flaming oil. The tongues of fire wavered as if her approach had caused a subtle breeze.
She stepped toward a second torch, and beyond in the darkness, she heard Gerrard and Fulano walking. Something scraped. A match flickered. She saw Gerrard lower it toward another torch, from which flames soon rose. Fulano did the same, lighting a farther torch. The two men moved around the chamber, continuing to light more torches until the darkness was almost completely dispelled. Even so, when they passed the torches, their shadows wavered eerily.
Fulano had described the cave paintings as the Sistine Chapel of paleolithic art. But now, in shock, Tess found herself staring at a true chapel. She tried to retain her presence of mind, to analyze what she was seeing. The chapel's design, its columns and vaulted ceiling, looked Roman, but given what Fulano had said about the cave having been discovered in the eighteen hundreds, Tess suspected that no matter the chapel's design, it wasn't ancient but instead had been built within the past hundred years.
It was chiseled from limestone and divided into three sections. To the right, three steps led up to an arched entrance and then an aisle with a bench carved out of the wall. On the left, three other steps led up to an identical aisle and bench. In the middle, a more lofty arched entrance provided access to a long open area, lower than the aisles and visible from the benches. The design was intended to focus attention toward a prominent object on a large square altar at the rear of the central area, and that object – Tess's heart faltered – was a bas-relief statue of Mithras straddling a white bull, slicing its throat. She wanted to scream. Her mind swirled. She feared that she'd go insane.
The statue was twice as large as the one she'd seen in Joseph's bedroom. Its white marble was weathered, cracked, and chipped, and she knew in her soul that this wasn't a copy, as Joseph's had been. No, this was the original. This was the statue that the small determined group of heretics had managed to take with them when they used ropes to escape down the mountain the night before the massacre at Montsegur.
'As I promised,' Fulano said. The truth.'
'Come. Look closer,' Gerrard said. He shifted between Tess and Craig, spread out his arms, and conducted them toward the chapel's central area. Before he entered, he stopped at a basin mounted on a pedestal and dipped his right hand within it. Water glistened on his fingers as he touched them to his forehead, his chest, then his left and right shoulder, making the Sign of the Cross.
But not the cross of Christianity, Tess knew. This cross was that of the sun god.
'A holy-water basin?' Her fear gave way to bewilderment.
'No doubt, it reminds you of Catholicism,' Gerrard said. 'But the ritual predates Catholicism. Like so many of our rituals, this one was borrowed – stolen - from us after Constantine converted from Mithraism to Christianity during the fourth century. After they persecuted us, the hypocrites then pretended that they'd also invented communion, the consecration of bread and wine, the sharing of the sacred meal. But unlike their false religion's bread and wine, which supposedly represents the body and blood of Christ, our bread and wine represents the fertility of, the bounty of, the earth. Similarly this water – which doesn't need to be blessed because simply by being water it's already holy – represents the glory of the rains and rivers that satisfy nature's thirst.'
'Or used to,' Fulano said, 'before poisons in the atmosphere turned the rain into acid. That water comes from a stream in this valley that hasn't yet been polluted.'
They neared the altar. Tess shuddered at the sight of the dog, the serpent, and the scorpion trying to stop the sacrifice that would bring life back to nature. On the left of the dying bull, the blood of which was supposed to fertilize the soil, a torchbearer's flame pointed upward while that of the torchbearer on the right pointed down. Good and evil in conflict.
'So now it's time,' Gerrard said.
Fulano joined them.
The vice president continued, 'I'm sure that despite the carefully constructed sequence of our revelation, the revelation itself is not a surprise. It was obvious to me that when you boarded Air Force Two, you suspected I was one of the heretics – to use the term you prefer – although for us Christianity is the heresy. It was also obvious to me that you suspected that I knew you suspected. So we engaged in word-games, clever dialogues in which each tried to fool the other. But neither of us was convincing. Even so, the things you said affected me, Tess. Your profound environmental concerns, your obvious commitment to the planet. In Washington, when I heard that you threatened us, I agreed with a plan to have you guided toward me so I could personally arrange your death. At José's estate, your execution could easily have been accomplished. However, I'm no longer convinced that you ought to be killed. I see possibilities in your attitude. I think that your passionate skills as a journalist could be a help to us. You feel justifiably furious about your mother's death. As do I. That murder was senseless. Clumsy. Needless. But it happened. It can't be undone. So the question I need to ask is, To preserve your life, are you prepared to subdue your grief and work with us? Think carefully. It's the most important question you've ever been asked.'
'Murder, blackmail, terrorism? Your methods are wrong,' Tess said.
'But they're necessary, since no other methods have
been successful,' Gerrard said. 'However, I appreciate your honest response. For the first time, you're not deceptive. You were tempted to lie, given the weapons aimed behind you, but you didn't. Remarkable. Perhaps there's hope, and I really would hate to order your death. You're a vital, healthy, athletic, well-intentioned, young woman – a perfect example of the life force we're trying to save. I'd sincerely regret destroying you.'
Craig coughed.
'You have something to add, Lieutenant? Remember that the only reason you've been tolerated is your romantic association with Tess. If you were killed, she'd never cooperate.'
'Exactly,' Craig said. 'Because we love each other, Tess and I very much want to stay alive. But suppose I manage to forget that I work for NYPD. Suppose Tess manages to forget that you bastards killed her mother.'
Gerrard stiffened. 'Proceed.'
'If we agree to your terms, how would you know we weren't lying? How would you know you could trust us?'
'You've already answered part of your question,' Gerrard said. 'You and Tess love each other enough that you wouldn't jeopardize your future over something you can't control. The plan that our ancestors formulated hundreds of years ago has been achieved. We've infiltrated every major government and corporation, not to mention every important communication network and financial institution. You and Tess could never escape our attention. Our operatives would watch you constantly. You'd be killed the moment you tried to reveal our existence and urge non-believers to move against us.'
Tess couldn't surmount her fear, remembering in turmoil that the night before, Father Baldwin had made the same threat. If you attempt to reveal the secret that the Inquisition never ended, our operatives – constantly watching you – will guarantee your silence. She felt trapped between one side and the other. Good and evil. But which side was good, and which side was evil? Both used similar, vicious, lethal tactics.
'All right,' Craig said. That makes sense. But according to you, I answered only part of the question. What's the rest of it? If Tess and I promise to cooperate, how would you know you could trust us? How could we be confident that we'd be safe?'
'Yes,' Gerrard said. 'How indeed? At this point, I have to defer to José's judgment. My power is limited, even though I'm America's vice president. But José is the direct descendant of the leader of the heretics who escaped from the massacre at Montsegur. He makes the final life-and-death decisions.'
Tess and Craig spun toward Fulano.
The Spaniard narrowed his eyes. 'You appreciated the paintings, the chapels of the animals?'
'Despite my terror, yes. They were unbelievably awesome,' Tess said.
'And you understand their significance?'
'I do,' Tess said. They represent the soul of nature.'
Fulano assessed her. Then despite our differences, we may be more alike than you realize. Perhaps an accommodation can be reached.' He frowned. 'But in order to gain our trust, you need to make a sign of good faith.'
'How do we manage that? What do you mean? What kind of sign?'
'You have to be baptized.'
'What?'
'You need to convert.'
To Mithraism?'
'It's the only way,' Fulano said. 'If you become one of us, if you experience the mystery, if you respond to the powerful rite, you'd never dream of betraying us.'
'Baptism?'
Fulano nodded.
Tess thought quickly, Anything to get out of here. Having my forehead splashed with water? A few prayers being said? That's nothing compared to what I've been through. She forced herself to appear to hesitate, to ponder, and finally said, 'All right.'
'Don't think you can fool us,' Gerrard said. This baptism isn't the type you're familiar with. It's not the same as Christianity's. I warn you. It's primordial, much more profound than you can imagine.'
What could it possibly be? Tess thought. How different from the baptism of Christianity? Total immersion in an ice-cold underground spring? Her fear of dying from hyperthermia or of being suffocated was certainly profound. But baptism by total immersion was practised by several Christian fundamentalist groups, she knew, and Gerrard had insisted that this baptism was totally different from Christianity's and by definition from fundamentalist versions of it.
At once, however, Tess remembered that total immersion wasn't limited to fundamentalist Christians. Various sects in India also practised total immersion, and Priscilla Harding had explained that isolated groups devoted to Mithraism were known to have survived and to practise their rites in present-day India.
Total immersion? Tess grimly decided, As bad as that would be, the cold, the tug of the water, the feeling of helplessness, it still can't compare to what I've already been through.
'I appreciate your warning,' she said, 'but I've thought about it, and I agree. I'll do my best. I'll be baptized. I'll join you if that's what it takes for Craig and me to be left alone, to live without fear.'
'Without fear, yes, but you'll still have to help us,' Gerrard said.
'But only in non-violent ways.'
'Of course,' Gerrard said. 'As a journalist committed to protecting the planet.'
'Nothing could stop me from doing that.'
'Lieutenant, do you agree as well?' Gerrard asked.
'I'm with Tess,' Craig said. 'We share the same decisions.'
Then please step through that archway.' Fulano pointed toward the rear of the chapel, toward an exit on the right beside the statue of Mithras on the altar.
Tess tried to demonstrate total resolve as she walked, muscles quivering, toward the right of the altar. Abruptly she faltered, hearing what at first was an inexplicable sound in the darkness beyond the archway.
With a clomping echo, something stomped.
Tess jerked toward Fulano, her face contorted with fright and confusion. 'What was that?'
Immediately the stomp was followed by a violent snort. 'What is it?' Craig's husky voice became guttural. 'It sounds like-'
'-an animal.' Tess breathed.
'You were warned,' Fulano said. 'This baptism is more unusual than you expect.'
'Primordial.'
'Yes. Depending on your reaction, you'll live or die,' Fulano said. 'We'll know at once if you're converted because it'll be obvious whether you've accepted the baptism's power.'
The mysterious unseen animal stomped what sounded like a massive hoof a second time and scraped it over the cavern's floor, the powerful echo reverberating from the archway into the chapel.
Then the animal snorted again, a gruff, moist, angry outburst.
Tess became paralyzed with terror.
But Hugh Kelly and the guards broke her paralysis, crowding relentlessly against her and Craig, pressing the two of them onward, forcing them through the archway.
Gerrard and Fulano had quickly entered before them, striking matches, lighting more torches, and as the flames rose, shimmering, they revealed what the cavern behind the chapel held.
Tess barely managed not to scream.
THIRTEEN
Trapped in a narrow pen carved from gray stone but with an iron gate at one end, stood the huge white bull that Tess had seen isolated in a field this afternoon as the helicopter descended toward Fulano's estate.
Tess suddenly knew where Hugh Kelly had been and what he'd been doing since the helicopter had landed and why he'd gotten here ahead of them, mysteriously joining them on the slope outside the cave. He'd been ordered to arrange this. As the torches flared, wavering from a breeze apparently created y the group's approach, the majestic white bull swung its angry head in Tess's direction, its blood-red gaze revealing its fury at having been imprisoned here for so long in the dark. Its nostrils widened, spewing moisture as it snorted once more in outrage.
The animal strained its neck and thrust with one horn, as if despite the distance it believed with proud desperation that it could reach and impale its captors.
'Dear God,' Tess moaned.
'Yes,' Gerrard said. 'Dear God. That's th
e meaning of the statue. This white bull represents the moon, and because the moon brings light to the darkness, it symbolizes the triumph of good over evil. Obviously the moon is a counterpart to the sun, and so, too, this bull is a counterpart to – a substitute for – Mithras, the God of the sun.'
Tess couldn't stop moaning.
'Your fear is understandable,' Gerrard said. 'But I hope that you also moan in reverence. After all, sacred rites have no effect if they don't induce profound emotion. Obviously this is a test. The two of you are about to be changed. I guarantee it. By all means, one way or another, life opposed to death, agreement opposed to defiance, you're about to be changed.'
Tess trembled.
'Step closer,' Fulano said. 'Over here. Facing the bull.'
Tess and Craig didn't move.
'Your hesitation doesn't encourage me,' Fulano said. 'You have to prove yourselves.'
Hugh Kelly and the guards crowded Tess and Craig closer to the pen, compelling them to obey Fulano's orders. Ten feet from the face of the bull, Tess stared at its wrathful eyes.
But this time, when the animal snorted in outrage, hot mucus from its widened nostrils struck her face.
In horror, Tess rubbed at her cheeks, frantic to remove the burn of the acidlike specks. But something else horrified her even more.
Her bladder muscles threatened to fail. Peering down, she saw that a narrow stairwell had been carved within the cavern's floor and that murky steps descended toward a dark enclosure beneath the bull.
Gerrard rubbed his right eye, which was weeping again, the irritation having returned. He pulled a small plastic container from his pocket, bent his head, and propped open his eyelids, dropping contact lenses onto one palm. After placing the lenses into the plastic container, he raised his head.
The Covenant Of The Flame Page 43