The Priests' Code
Page 19
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
‘I’ve been looking at the inscription on Marie de Nègre’s tombstone again. Considering how few letters there are, it makes an impressive amount of pertinent words, with none of them having to reuse any of the letters. I take back all I said about Bigou not being Pythagoras. I’ve been trying to make links with Harcourt’s journal. Harcourt’s there, de Clare too, Cirencester, and the name of your village, piscina, secret, Sangreal, Sainte-Andre, that’s the church here, and even “Assemblée du Clerge de France.” I know that basic sets of letters can make up lots of words, and usually I’d be the first person to question it, but as a tombstone inscription with an obvious attempt to give a message, I’m inclined to think that it’s deliberate.’
I go up to throw a few more logs on the fire. ‘I think so too.’
‘And there’s something else. You know the grotto that Saunière built himself in front of the church? It held a statue of Mary Magdalene? She’s gone now, vandalised, I think, but the numbers and letters underneath on the ledge have never been decoded. Until now, of course. It was so easy. Bérenger clearly had an interest in runes and the whole area is riddled with both runic and numerological symbols. Once you know that, you can decode just about everything. The Templars used them too, as did many other people, of course. I got into his head, and thought about him as a person, not some gold digger who had no thoughts but finding a hoard. I think he was intelligent, and inquisitive. He liked to acquire new knowledge, and his priest friends were intelligent men too. Anyway, back to the ledge. Like I said, you just need the two codes.
XXSLX
‘I read somewhere that the first letter is a K, but it isn’t. It’s definitely an X squeezed in a bit tightly, because of what looks to be a modern repair. The X in runic terms is Gebo. It’s rune number 7. A fortuitous number in many belief systems. Anyway, in runic terms, its basic meaning is a union of two, humans in a relationship, a sexual marriage, a sacred or mystical union, balance, harmony, peace, gifts, love, partnership, and perceiving the divine.
‘But there are two Xs side by side. In gnostic teachings of runes, two crosses together usually standing upright is the rune Ing or Ingwaz. Believed to be the rune of the Holy Grail itself, it’s also symbolic of the seed of life, DNA, the god and goddess, unity, partnerships, fertility, and the continuation of the generation. It’s also the 22nd rune, which is another 22 linked to Rennes-le-Château.
‘So, we have the symbol for the Holy Grail, and then S and L. Hmmm… What word begins with S and ends in L?’
‘Even I can get that, Caro. San Graél obviously… or sang raél. Holy grail… or holy blood.’
‘Exactly. Then there’s the last cross. Using numerology as well, an X in Latin is ten. Times that by three and you have thirty, which makes a numerological 3. 3 symbolises the trinity and the physical union of a man and woman and their offspring. It all makes absolute sense. The two crosses on one side for Jesus and Mary, then sang raél, then another cross for their child.
XXSLX
‘Saunière’s use of numerology and runic symbolism shouldn’t be that surprising, since it’s held considerable importance throughout history. It was particularly fashionable and undergoing a revival during the time that he was at Rennes-le-Château, and he used it as best he could.’
* * *
‘22 is particularly interesting when relating it to Jesus as a master builder, not in the bricks and mortar sense, but of humanity. The carpenter bit is rubbish anyway, just an error in translation. He was of royal descent, though, and a Rabbi, and was hardly likely to have been messing about chopping up bits of wood or stone. I think quite a lot of the Bible was written in a metaphorical or allegorical sense, but so much is lost because of poor translation, perhaps deliberately so. I’ve also wondered if parts of it are a type of codex, not unlike the mysteries at Rennes-le-Château. They just need to be understood correctly and then deciphered. And, like a lot of the hype about Rennes-le-Château, some of it is pure fantasy, put in to deliberately confuse and deflect from the truth.’
Caro nodded her head. ‘That’s my view too. There’s more though. Saunière’s date of birth takes him to a 22 numerological. And Mary Magdalene’s feast day is the 22nd. There are lots of other 22s at Rennes, including steps and crenulations. In the Coptic calendar, St Antoine the hermits feast day is the 22nd. There are 22 letters in the inscription above Asmodeus. Not forgetting 22 letters above the church door, Terribilis est locus iste. That’s part of several phrases taken from the bible, Genesis 28:17: “how dreadful is this place,” meaning full of dread and fear and awe, not terrible in the sense that we know it. The other part is Mathew 21:13. “My house shall be called the house of prayer but you have made it a den of thieves.” Very appropriate.
‘One of the things that most people don’t notice at Rennes-le-Château is the keystone above the door. It’s the coat of arms for Pope Leo XIII. Notice the keys? A Templar symbol, and remember the head in your village church with his mouth sealed and locked? And there’s more to it. He died on a numerological 22. Even more significant than that is the vision that he had and is officially recorded and documented. It happened in 1884, the year before Saunière came to Rennes-le-Château. He had just held Mass in his private chapel and was leaving when he stopped still and went into a trance for about ten minutes. When he came around, he said he had heard voices which he believed to be of God and Satan engaged in a conversation. It goes like this:
Satan.
I can destroy your Church.
God.
You can? Then go ahead and do so.
Satan.
To do so I need more time and more power.
God.
How much time, how much power?
Satan.
75–100 years and a greater power to those who will give themselves over to my service.
God.
You have the time, you have the power. Do with them what you will.
‘I hardly believed it when I read it, but it’s true. It could have been written for Saunière, couldn’t it? I know I keep using the word, but the synchronicity is startling. Saunière probably didn’t have the power to reveal all, at that time. Not like there is now, with much more freedom of speech and media cover, although I still think the powers that are out there would have a damn good go at stopping it. How very appropriate to put the arms above the door, and those phrases too. He did everything he could to pass the message on, and I admire him hugely for it.’
‘I’ve come across it, but not in this context. How very odd.’
‘I know, and going back to symbolism, remember that 22 adds up to four. The fourth rune is Ansuz. This rune is all about the transmission of language through signs and symbols, the voice of the universe, the ancestors, linguistics, word power, divine communication, creative wisdom, and open paths of communication.’
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
‘It’s well known that the saint statues in the church form an M for Magdalene if you draw a line between them, and taking the initial of each makes graal, or grail in English. That’s if you use Luke from the four evangelists. We worked that out a long time ago, as did lots of others, but the reason he chose the saints that he did is very revealing.
St Germaine
St Roch
St Anthony the Hermit
St Anthony of Padua
St Luke
‘I’ll go through them in turn, but leave Germaine till last. You’ll see why in a minute.
‘OK. Roch. Patron saint of a few things, but for Saunière it was that of all those who had been falsely accused. Saunière was accused of becoming involved in politics, attempting to
influence his parishioners, grave robbing, and various other things over the years. I’m not sure when the statue of Roch went in, but probably before the accusation about his finances. I also think he’s using Roch to point to Marie de Nègre: Roc Nègre? The black mountain opposite Blanchefort supposedly full of gold mines? Roch did a lot of work with victims of the Black Death, and shows off his own plague pustule. Apparently Roch was born with a red cross on his chest, like a Templar emblem, confirming Saunière’s desire to include the Templars in his narrative.’
* * *
‘I can do Anthony the Hermit, father of all monks, tempted in the desert with gold and silver. Saunière may have seen himself as being tempted by pay-offs and gold that he found. I don’t doubt that he used the situation to his best advantage, but I think it was much more complex than many assume, and he was as vulnerable to criticism as the rest of us. One of the most famous images of Anthony is on a Coptic icon, where he is standing in a brown monk’s habit, with a hood, holding a walking stick, and a scroll.’
* * *
Caro nodded, and shuffled her papers. ‘Anthony of Padua, patron saint of lost things. Bérenger found many lost things, we’re very sure about that.
* * *
‘The message of Luke is more subtle. He was the patron saint of historians and artists, which is how Saunière thought of himself, but more interesting is chapter 19:10 in the Gospel of Saint Luke, which is very appropriate for both Saunière and Jesus:
For the son of man is come to seek,
And to save that which was lost.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
‘Excellent, Caro. He must have had great fun putting it all together, but what about Germaine? We always thought it was simply the flowers, and the connection with the local Fleury family, who married into the Hautpoul/Blanchefort clan.’
‘Yes, but I’ve discovered something much more important than that. If you remember, there’s another so called Fleury memorial, The Sermon on the Mount, at the back of the church. It has flowers scattered all over it, like Germaine’s skirt? The story goes that Germaine was treated badly by her stepmother, who accused her of the theft of food. Germaine opened her skirts and thousands of flowers fell out, not from the area at all. The Fleurys were long gone by Saunière’s time, though, and I really couldn’t see why they deserved two memorial/statues, so I kept on looking.
‘The ancient family of de Fleury certainly had Templar connections, and links to the Voisins, part of the Hautpoul family, which may have brought information down the family line. Marie de Nègre was estranged from her daughter, who married Paul François Vincent de Fleury in 1767, and they were all crippled with debt in the end.
‘There is another Fleury that he may well have been aware of – François Richard Fleury, a painter, born in 1777, a numerological 22, who died in 1852. He was a favourite of Josephine de Beauharnais, Napoleon’s Josephine. One of his most famous paintings was called The Hermitage of Vaucouleurs, which showed Joan of Arc going to a hermit to ask for advice. He also painted Jacques de Molay, the Templar grand master. It’s possible that he was some relation of the Fleurys of Rennes-le-Château. He was an interesting character because of his involvement in the Scottish Rite Masonic Lodge of Isis. In 1815, he was given the Knight, Legion of Honour award. Joan comes back into the story a bit later, as does Molay, but there’s more, Benoît, so pay attention, please!’
‘I’d be too scared not too. Is this how you treated your students?’
‘Only if they were very lucky! Now listen. I felt that I was missing something, so I kept on searching, a bit like Saunière, I suppose. One of the most famous de Fleurys in history was Hugo de Sancta Maria de Fleury, a Benedictine monk. There were a whole host of other names for him, including Huges de Sainte Marie, Hugues de Santa Maria and Hugo De S Maria Floriacensis Monachus.’
‘Yes, I know. I’ve heard of him, of course.’
‘I should think so, you being a priest and translator. Anyway, he was called Hugo or Hughes of Santa Maria after the village church that his father owned, along with the actual village too, sometime in the mid-eleventh century. No one knows who his father was, though, or anything about him at all, which is odd. It’s almost like it’s been written out of the history books, and perhaps it was. But it’s likely that he was noble by birth, and possibly illegitimate.
‘Let’s take a side-step for a minute to Campagne-sur-Aude, just down the road. The name is on Marie’s tombstone too, of course. It’s a renowned Templar town and church. Do you remember the statue of a very much alive, Jesus, being brought down from the cross by a monk?’
‘How could I forget it, although for some reason its less well known than some of the other connections, like Esperaza and the Jesus statue in a grotto, with his eyes wide open. The church at Le Bezu, a Cathar and then Templar stronghold, has a crucified Jesus statue with his eyes wide open and staring, too. It’s most odd. Are you thinking that the one in Campagne-sur-Aude depicts Hugo de Fleury removing Jesus from the false story that he was crucified?’
‘Yes, possibly. If you weren’t allowed to speak out, then these were the kind of things that you could do, to tell the story. Antoine Beaux, the priest of Campagne-sur-Aude, was a friend of Saunière’s , and don’t forget Templiers in Marie de Nègre’s tombstone, made up from the incorrect letters? Hugo de Fleury was a scholar and translator from Fleury abbey at St-Benoît-sur-Loire. Note the Benoît. Synchronicity playing its part again! And that name’s in her tombstone inscription too.’
‘I know he wrote enormously important books about the lineage of Frankish kings, the history of royalty and the church. He had access to the most ancient and important documents that were around. Charlemagne had supported the abbey in his time, and many of the abbots were of royal lineage themselves; Merovingians, Carolingians, and goodness knows what else. Even Cardinal Richelieu du Plessis.’
‘That was a lot later, but he had Templar connections, albeit from some time before. Theobaldus who was believed to be a Merovingian from the early 600s, was most likely the founder of the Abbey, and by the mid-ninth century it had what was believed to be the best and most comprehensive library in the west. It’s quite possible that Hugo found some old documents, or already had them because he came from this area, which ended up in the hands of the Cathars and Templars, or someone else linked to Rennes-le-Château. It was much bigger and more important back then, and was frequently fought over and sold.
‘Quite a few Bérengers owned it, mostly from Spain in the eleventh century onwards, and Saunière’s mother was a Hugues. They were a well-known local family, and there were known Templars with both of those names. It’s just an oddity to note, but I’ve often wondered if his family knew more than they let on. This is going to sound ludicrous coming from me, but I’m beginning to think Saunière was meant to find what he did.’
‘What do you mean? Like destiny or something?’
‘I suppose so, but I can barely put it into words. I get a shiver down my spine just thinking about it.’
‘If there is such a thing, then it’s happening to us too. Who knows?’
‘Who knows indeed. Did I tell you that Bérenger’s birthday is a numerological 22? Did you know yours was, Benoît? And mine, of course, now I’m your long-lost sister. Oddly – and I came across this quite by chance whilst browsing on the internet – the name Henrikas is thought be represent a numerological 22. Oh, and Bérenger died on the 22nd. Marie Dénarnaud died on a numerological 22 as well, and Saint Germaine died when she was 22. Bérenger came to Rennes-le-Château in 1885, which is a 22. Another friend of his was Henri Boudet. He wrote a rather odd book called The True Celtic Language. Anyway, he died on a numerological 22, some say in suspicious circumstances after a visit from two men earlier that day.’
‘It’s bizarre in the extreme, but surely, if you were to believe that this was something more than just coincidence, then you wou
ld also have to make room for other unknowns, like God?’
Caro looked at me for a moment, her eyebrows raised.
‘No, Ben. I can’t agree with that statement. We know there are things that we don’t yet understand, and hopefully, at some point in time, we will. But that doesn’t mean that there is a single superior deity or God controlling everything that we do, and I’m certainly not about to get on my knees in front of a giant number twenty-two and beg for mercy, or pledge eternal worship and love. How very provoking you are sometimes.’
‘Nothing wrong with that. A bit of challenging never hurt anyone, and certainly not you.’
She smiled. ‘True enough. Anyway, there’s something else that I’ve been thinking about, to do with Germaine and the Fleury monument, but I want to show you it at the church, along with the new discoveries I’ve made in the Stations of the Cross.’
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
I got up to get some water, and when I sat back down Caro had fallen asleep, her notes slipped down onto the floor. I crept upstairs to get a blanket and carefully tucked it around her. She didn’t stir, and I put everything in the safe, checked the fire, and went up to my own bed, just as dawn was about to break.
It was nearly eleven when I finally woke up, a strong smell of coffee wafting up the stairs. I pulled on my dressing gown and went down to find her making scrambled eggs and toast.