The Green Stone

by Graham Phillips

  At the heart of the colony they built a hill fort to defend themselves and their culture against surrounding hostile tribes. Joanna claimed that the remains of this ancient fort could still be seen today. Then, some centuries later, the descendants of this colony were threatened by hostile northern tribes and so appointed a leader, a woman named Gwevaraugh, who became a great and successful warrior queen, so much so that many of the other surrounding tribes became annexed to them. After her death Gwevaraugh, her chief councillors and war lords, who had done so much to permanently establish the lore, became the heroes of legends, and in certain communities around Britain rewritten and altered versions of these stories formed the basis of later written accounts that eventually became integrated into some of the Celtic romances and legends.

  Gwevaraugh became known as Gwenhwyfar, a legendary warrior queen, who, in later times, was demoted in myth to Guinevere, the wife of King Arthur.

  The secret knowledge taught by Akhenaten and Gwevaraugh passed through the Roman occupation of Britain and the subsequent Dark Ages as a secret, inner lore known only to a few, whom Joanna referred to as The Nine, dwelling somewhere in central England. Joanna did not fully explain everything from this point but said there was much that they would eventually discover. She next took up the story some 2,000 years after Gwevaraugh, during the Middle Ages, when the knowledge was passed on to an order of crusader knights known as the Knights Templar. This mysterious but devoutly religious order of warrior monks used the secrets they possessed to build for themselves not only great mystical power but vast riches and estates throughout Europe.

  But all was not well, for the heirs to this knowledge were not without opposition, not only from the physical forces of the envious not so rich and influential, but also from some dark occult power. She did not say what this power was, only that it had one purpose, the destruction of the Templars. This opposition eventually prepared the way for the overthrow of the order, which came to a climax on 13 October 1307, when the chief Templars were arrested in Paris.

  ‘The task that befell Akhenaten, that befell Gwevaraugh and later the Knights Templar has now been reawakened. This work has now befallen many people, including yourselves.’

  ‘This task, what is it?’ asked Andy.

  ‘You will know soon, but there is no time to explain it now. There is something you must do, and it must be done quickly.’

  Martin and Andy exchanged puzzled glances in the near darkness.

  She spoke again, this time more urgently. ‘It is no coincidence that it is now October the twelfth. It was on the thirteenth day of October that the Templars were ultimately overthrown. This day holds great significance. Forces could be brought against the Templars on that day, and they were not prepared to meet them. The same forces can be brought against you and others who are to be involved.’

  After a short silence she continued.

  ‘The place that the original Egyptian colony was sited, the site of the old hill fort that I told you of, can still be seen. You must go there, and you must be there as the thirteenth day of October begins at midnight. You must be there, all of you.’

  ‘Why? Where is this place?’ asked Andy.

  ‘It is called Berry Ring.’

  ‘Where is it? How do we get there?’ he said.

  Joanna broke in quickly. ‘I must go now. You must make haste.’

  ‘One thing before you go,’ said Andy hesitantly. ‘If the Templars were arrested on the thirteenth of October, and somehow it was meant for us to do this tonight, how did it happen? After all, it was my idea that Graham should try this meditation yesterday and today.’

  ‘Was it?’ Joanna replied enigmatically.

  ‘Are you saying I was somehow led to do it?’ said Andy.

  ‘Many are led to do things they think coincidental.’

  ‘But where is Berry Ring?’ continued Andy. ‘You haven’t told us.’

  Graham inhaled deeply, held his breath for several seconds and then exhaled slowly. After a few minutes of silence, he moved his arms, turned his head and looked around. Joanna had gone. But this time they had her on tape. Both machines had recorded perfectly.

  They found it on the Ordnance Survey map. Berry Ring, a roughly oval-shaped hill fort south-west of the county town of Stafford. Whether Joanna’s historical saga was true or not, they would go as she had instructed. There was nothing to lose. Even if nothing happened, they would have at least visited an ancient Iron Age hill-fort in the dead of night, an experience in itself.

  The silhouette of Stafford Castle loomed into view to their right as they drove towards the fort. From its stone ramparts you could see Berry Ring, but only as a clump of dark green trees on a small hill a mile or so distant.

  In the light of the headlamps they saw it, a side road to the right signposted Bury Ring. A different spelling to the map. (1)

  They drove down the narrow country lane, passing occasional old half-timbered houses interspersed with modern bungalows, until it became little more than a dirt track. The road came to an end at a cattle grid and a gate bearing the name Berry Ring Farm.

  Andy flicked off the lights of his yellow Cortina and cut the engine. He explained that they would be looking for a large circular ditch or ditches. Pre-Roman hill forts were built like that. It could be thirty feet deep and twice as wide, with a diameter of anything up to several hundred yards.

  They stepped out on to the dirt track. It was dark, but not pitch black. The surrounding terrain could be seen in silhouette. In the near distance stood the castle, high and proud on the only hill to be seen thereabouts. In the lowlands next to it shone pinpricks of orange and white light, street lamps in the small towns and villages neighbouring Stafford. A light cloud swept across the sky as the biting wind clawed at their fingers. It was an unusually cold night for early autumn.

  Clambering over barbed wire and up a sharp incline, they came onto a grassy ridge. By torchlight, they followed a winding pathway through the trees; leaves and dead vegetation rustling against the wind as it brushed through the undergrowth. The ridge sloped away steeply to the right into a deep ditch about fifteen feet deep. On the other side it rose even higher.

  ‘This is obviously it,’ whispered Andy. He scrambled down the bank into the ditch as his friends followed. Martin found himself ankle deep in mud and cursed silently. The recent rain had not helped.

  Mounting a small incline, they reached a spot where the ditch shallowed and became almost even. In the dim light they could discern the circular line of trees delineating the fort, several hundred yards long and about half as wide.

  Could Graham’s whispering voice be right? Had there really been a warrior queen called Gwevaraugh who fought to defend some long-forgotten secret at this very spot? Had it really been a colony of Ancient Egyptians over 3,000 years ago? And if so, how could it involve them on that cold October night in 1979?

  ‘Twelve o’clock,’ announced Andy, squinting at his watch in the darkness. No one said anything. The wind howled along the gully and through the trees. The cold white stars seemed to move, an illusion of the clouds sweeping across the heavens. Martin peered along the ditch but saw nothing. Graham shook his head in disbelief. Andy gazed skyward.

  Something was happening, something unseen but very real. Within themselves they felt it, an indescribable knowing when things are not as they should be. For five minutes they stood in silence, contemplating the bizarre series of events leading to their presence in Berry Ring.

  Ten minutes later the feeling had passed. Somehow, they knew that from that night onwards their lives would never be the same again. What would happen next? What new mysteries would confront them?

  ‘You know something?’ said Andy as they reached the car. ‘If Gwevaraugh existed and this was her base camp, and she was the historical figure behind the Guinevere legend, do you know what that makes this place?’

  ‘What?’ asked Martin.

  ‘Think about it. Guinevere was King Arthur’s queen in lege
nd, wasn’t she?’

  ‘Yes.’ He nodded.

  ‘Well, where did they supposedly live?’

  ‘Camelot,’ he replied with a shrug.

  ‘Precisely, Camelot.’ Andy laughed.

  On the Sunday afternoon, a number of interested parties met at the Parasearch HQ to discuss the situation. Present were Andy, Graham, Martin, Terry Shotton and his friend Alan Beard, a telephone engineer from Alsager in Cheshire. Terry had told Alan of the strange events that had taken place since the conference, and he had expressed interest in what was happening.

  Terry and Alan told the others of yet another mysterious event that had occurred that lunchtime. Alan had arrived just after lunch and, as they were talking, the phone rang. It was Penny Blackwill, the medium. She explained how she’d awoken the previous night, the image of a vivid dream still clear in her mind. She told Terry that she had seen a wide, deep ditch running through some fields, and that this place was somehow of great significance. Penny had given a remarkably accurate description of Berry Ring.

  By the early evening they had all agreed that it was certainly more than pure coincidence, that a series of genuine paranormal events were taking place. But this was little comfort. Major questions arose. What was going on? Was there some controlling intelligence behind it all, and, if so, what manner of intelligence?

  The only possibility of a satisfactory answer seemed to be Graham’s whispering voice, Joanna. Did Joanna exist, or was she an unconscious creation of his mind? The first priority was to discover who Joanna really was. Graham said that he had known several women called Joanna, but he could not see how these could in any way be connected.

  They therefore decided to ask for help from some of the psychics who had given the messages, starting with Marion. When they telephoned her that evening, she was baffled. Andy and Graham contacted other psychics; perhaps they could throw light on the affair. Graham called John Ward and Yvonne, using carefully chosen words to avoid influencing future events. Neither could help, nor had they received any psychic impressions about anyone by the name of Joanna.

  The only real indication of what was actually behind the events had come from Joanna. According to her, they were to be involved in something important, something which had begun centuries ago with Akhenaten and a secret he had possessed, which had been handed down from generation to generation after his followers had travelled to Britain.

  So where was the evidence for this? Andy outlined what he had managed to discover from the local library. People, names, dates and places that Joanna had spoken of all existed. For hours they discussed the information; none of it contradicted known historical facts, it merely expanded on them and linked hitherto unlinked areas of history together. At least what she had claimed was possible. (See Appendix).

  Mary Queen of Scots

  Since no written accounts existed, Andy was unable to discover if there ever was a Gwevaraugh, although Celtic legends did include a certain Queen Gwenhwyfar, who later became the Guinevere of the medieval Arthurian romances. The Templars were shrouded in mystery. They came into existence in the early twelfth century AD in France, as a full-time military organisation. They were an international body of knights, who fought for Christendom in the Holy Land against the Saracens. But they were more than simply soldiers, they were also monks; Cistercian monks trained to fight as warriors for the Christian Church during the Crusades. Over the following two centuries, they grew to become a very rich, powerful and influential organisation throughout Europe. Many writers suggest that the Templars studied various forms of occultism or other such esoteric wisdom, most likely taken from the Middle East. They certainly surrounded themselves in mystery, and indeed were eventually excommunicated as heretics by the Roman Catholic Church.

  Joanna had told the researchers that the Templars met their end on 13 October 1307. Andy discovered that this was also correct. They had become unpopular with the French King, Philip IV, by the early fourteenth century since he evidently owed them a great deal of money. For this reason, he decided to destroy them and came to an arrangement with Pope Clement V, who agreed to denounce the Templars and declare their order a heretical organisation. With the Pope on his side, King Philip arrested the Templars in Paris, including the Grand Master of the Order, Jacques de Moley. They were tried and convicted for heresy and Devil worship. It appeared, however, that the charges were unfounded and simply trumped up by the King and his allies. It was not long before other crowned heads of European countries followed suit, either arresting the Templars or confiscating their lands on the orders of the Pope.

  The date King Philip arrested the Templars in Paris was indeed 13 October 1307. Joanna was right.

  Graham knew only a little about the Templars and was not aware of the importance of 13 October 1307. (2)

  So what were they to make of the Joanna messages? Was her story true? After some discussion they were left with one of two possibilities. Whatever Joanna was, her story could not be easily dismissed. But was it simply a cleverly constructed tale utilising unconnected historical facts, or was it really true?

  It seemed that the Templars were involved in magical practices, and since the other facts were accurate Joanna’s revelation about some dark force having instigated their destruction was perhaps a possibility.

  ‘Maybe the Templars were fighting for what they believed to be the force of good,’ said Terry. ‘But it may have been that they were using some mystical knowledge to help them in their struggle. Perhaps this is why some opposite force, some evil occult power, was brought against them.’

  Everyone stared at him disbelievingly.

  ‘It’s only a suggestion, but look at what’s been happening,’ he said with a shrug. ‘Maybe the same could, is about to, happen to us.’

  Whatever was going to happen, there was only one way to find out. Graham agreed to try and make contact with Joanna again the following evening.

  On the evening of Monday, 15 October, Graham again fell into the trance state. Once more Joanna’s whispering voice spoke through him.

  Andy began to ask questions, but they remained unanswered as Joanna explained that she had much to say and that her time was limited. She said that those involved were to undertake a task, a search, a search for something of such importance that they would never believe its full implications.

  There existed a force, a power of great evil, she claimed, a power she did not name or attempt to explain. This power had apparently brought about the destruction of many people during the last years of the Megalithic culture in the British Isles and had existed since that time until today. It had caused much suffering, hardship and grief. What it was, its intended purpose and how it existed she did not explain, saying only that it had manipulated and controlled many people over the ages for its own mysterious purposes. She added that even today it exercised control over people it chose to use.

  When the Megalithic peoples passed on their knowledge to Akhenaten, they also entrusted to him something that, under certain specific conditions, could be used to ward off this power. Eventually, at the right time and in the right hands, it could be used to destroy it. This something was a green stone, which she called the ‘Meonia Stone’. When Akhenaten’s followers came to Britain, they brought the Meonia Stone with them to the relative safety of their colony in central England.

  This mysterious malefic power had sought out the colony and attempted to destroy them, but Gwevaraugh had defeated those whom it had sent against them and won a temporary victory over the power itself. Soon after this battle the Stone was hidden for safe keeping.

  Those who possessed this secret wisdom knew that the dark power would at some future time again attempt to destroy them. Years later, certain Knights Templar inherited the secret knowledge and put it to use. Because of this, the evil power eventually moved against them. In 1307, when it finally attempted their destruction, they no longer possessed the Meonia Stone and were overthrown. Only a few survived, continuing as a secret underground
movement, which later founded a religious body that became known as the Rosicrucians.

  Joanna next took up her story in the late sixteenth century, when the Order once more relocated the Stone and decided to use it. Members of this secret organisation had once again tried to establish their headquarters in the centre of England. But some attempted to abuse the secrets they possessed. The Stone had at one time been in the possession of Mary Queen of Scots, who was Catholic, and some who held the secrets in the early seventeenth century were also Catholics, loyal to the Roman Church – as such were persecuted by the Protestant regime of James I. Therefore, they decided to mount a rebellion. Believing themselves to be invincible, they devised a ludicrous scheme to blow up the King and Parliament and then take over the country. This was the Gunpowder Plot of 1605.

  Their violent intentions gave this mysterious power the perfect opportunity to destroy them, but still they believed they could overcome it by using the Stone at a certain time, the 31 October. Why this particular date was not explained, except that it was a date long considered to be a time of great mystical power. This power could be harnessed by the Stone and brought to bear against the opposition.

  With all prepared for the final day of the plot, those conspirators who were part of the secret organisation tried to use the Stone. They failed. In becoming men of violence, they had lost what they once possessed, the power to defeat evil. Still they elected to continue with the plot, but on 5 November Guy Fawkes was discovered beneath the Houses of Parliament and arrested.

  By that evening, all that remained of the proposed rebellion were forty or so conspirators fleeing from the Sheriff of Worcester’s men across the Worcestershire countryside. Amongst them were some of those who were members of the secret society. Most, however, knew nothing of this society and had justified their actions only out of loyalty to the Catholic cause. Of those who were members, Thomas Wyntour and Robert Catesby were the chief conspirators.