The Expected One (16 page)

Maureen was watching him now, curious but increasingly cautious. “No, I can’t say I ever have.”

“It surprises me that someone of your research capabilities knows so little about her own family name.”

Maureen turned away from him when she spoke about her past. “When my father died, my mother took me to live with her people in Ireland. I had no contact with my father’s family after that.”

“Still, one of your parents must have had a premonition of your destiny.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Your name. Maureen. You do know what that means?”

The warm wind blew through again, ruffling Maureen’s red hair. “Of course. It’s Irish for ‘little Mary.’ Peter calls me that all the time.”

Sinclair shrugged as if he had made his point and gazed out at the Languedoc. Maureen followed his line of sight to where a series of massive rocks were scattered across the sprawling grassy plain.

The summer sun struck something in the distance. The reflection caused Maureen to do a quick double take, as if she saw something out in the field.

Sinclair appeared keenly interested in Maureen’s line of vision. “What is it?”

“Nothing.” Maureen shook her head. “Just…the sun in my eyes.”

Sinclair wasn’t ready to let it go. “Are you sure?”

Maureen hesitated for a long moment as she looked to the field again. She nodded, before asking the question that was heavy on her mind. “All this talk about my family name. When will you show me the letter from my father?”

“I think you will have more of an understanding when this evening is over.”

Maureen returned to her lavish bedroom at the château to bathe and change for dinner. As she emerged from the bathroom, she noticed something she had not seen upon first entering the room. On her bed was a large hardcover book — an English dictionary — opened to the letter “p” pages.

The word “Paschal” was circled in red pen. Maureen read the definition.

“Paschal — Any symbolic representation of Christ. The Paschal Lamb is the symbol of Christ and of Easter.”

…I am told by many of this man who was called Paul. He caused great turmoil among the elect, and some journeyed the long distance from Rome as well as Ephesus to consult me on this man and his words.

It is not for me to judge, nor can I say what was in his soul as I did not encounter him in the flesh and did not look into his eyes. But I can say with certainty that this man Paul never met Easa and that I was most distressed to hear that he would speak for him and all that he taught of the light and goodness that is The Way.

There were many things about this man that I believed to be dangerous. He was once allied with the harshest followers of John, all men who held Easa in great contempt. They opposed the teachings of The Way as it was given to us by him. I am told that he was once known as Saul of Tarsus and was a man who persecuted the elect. He stood by while a young follower of Easa, a beautiful young man called Stephen who had a heart filled with love, was crushed with stones. Some tell that this Saul encouraged the stoning of Stephen. That man was the first after Easa to die for his faith in The Way. But he would be far from the last. Because of men like Saul of Tarsus.

There was much to beware of there.

T
HE
A
RQUES
G
OSPEL OF
M
ARY
M
AGDALENE,
T
HE
B
OOK OF
D
ISCIPLES

T
he dining room Sinclair had chosen for this evening was his private one, less formal than the cavernous main dining salon of the château. The room was adorned with excellent replicas of Botticelli’s most famous paintings. Both versions of the masterworks known as
Lamentation
covered most of one wall, showing the crucified Jesus in the Pietà position across his mother’s lap. In the first version, his head is cradled by a weeping Mary Magdalene; in the second, she holds his feet. Three of the Renaissance master’s madonna paintings,
Madonna with Pomegranate, Madonna with the Book,
and
Madonna of the Magnificat
hung in costly gilded frames on two other walls.

Maureen and Peter were distracted from the artwork only when they saw that a traditional Languedoc feast was in store for them. Bubbling tureens of cassoulet, the hearty white bean stew flavored with duck confit and sausage, were brought to the table by serving women, while crusty bread filled baskets on the table. Rich red wine from the Corbières waited to be poured.

“Welcome to the Botticelli room,” Sinclair announced as he entered. “I understand you have recently developed quite an affinity for our Sandro.”

Maureen and Peter stared at him.

“Did you have us followed?” Peter asked.

“Of course,” Sinclair replied matter-of-factly. “And I’m delighted that I did because I was immensely impressed that you ended up at the wedding frescoes. Our Sandro was entirely devoted to the Magdalene, which becomes obvious in his most famous works. Like this one.”

Sinclair pointed to a replica of Botticelli’s
Birth of Venus,
the now-iconic painting that depicts the naked goddess rising out of the waves standing on a scallop shell.

“This represents Mary Magdalene’s arrival on the shores of France. She is shown as the Goddess of Love often in Renaissance painting and has a strong association with the planet Venus.”

“I’ve seen that painting a hundred times, at least,” Maureen commented. “I had no idea it was Mary Magdalene.”

“Few people do. Our Sandro was instrumental in a Tuscan organization that was dedicated to preserving her name and memory, the Confraternity of Mary Magdalene. Did you understand the symbolism of the frescoes you saw in the Louvre?”

Maureen hesitated. “I’m not sure.”

“Take your best guess.”

“My first thought was astrology, or at least astronomy. The scorpion represented the constellation of Scorpio, and the archer’s bow was representative of Sagittarius.”

“Bravo. I believe that to be quite right. Have you ever heard of the Languedoc Zodiac?”

“No, but I have heard of the Glastonbury Zodiac in England. Are they similar?”

“Yes. If you lay a map of the constellations over this region, you will find that the cities fall within certain constellations. The same is true of Glastonbury.”

Peter spoke his confusion. “Sorry, but I’m not following this at all.”

Maureen filled him in. “This was a common theme for the ancients, starting with the Egyptians. Sacred locations on earth are built to mirror the heavens. For example, the pyramids in Giza are laid out to mirror the constellation of Orion. Entire cities were planned to match the pattern of the stars. It fulfilled the alchemical philosophy of ‘As above, so below.’ ”

“The wedding fresco is a map,” Sinclair explained. “Sandro was telling us where to look.”

“Wait a minute. You’re saying that one of the greatest painters in history was in on this Magdalene conspiracy theory?” Peter was tired and feeling far less diplomatic than usual as a result.

“Actually, Father Healy, I’m saying that
many
of the greatest painters in history were in on it. We have the Magdalene to thank for so many things, including a wealth of artistic treasures from great masters.”

“Like Leonardo da Vinci?” Maureen asked.

Sinclair’s face darkened so quickly that Maureen was taken aback.

“No! Leonardo is not included in that list for good reason.”

“But he painted Mary Magdalene in his fresco
The Last Supper.
And there is so much popular speculation that he was a leader of a secret society that revered her and the divine feminine.” Leonardo was the one artist Maureen had heard about over and over again while researching Mary Magdalene. She was shocked and confused by Sinclair’s unexpected distaste for the subject.

Sinclair took a sip of his wine, setting the glass down very deliberately. When he spoke, it was with an edge. “My dear, we will not spoil this evening with talk of that man or his work. You will find no references to Leonardo da Vinci in my house, nor in the homes of anyone in this area. For now, that explanation will have to suffice.” He smiled to lighten the mood a bit. “Besides, we have so many other wonderful artists to choose from, like our Sandro, Poussin, Ribera, El Greco, Moreau, Cocteau, Dali…”

“But why?” Peter asked. “Why are all of these artists involved in what is essentially a heresy?”

“Heresy is in the eyes of the beholder. But to answer your question, these great artists painted for wealthy patrons who supported them and their work, and the majority of those noble patrons were related to the sacred bloodline and were descendants of Mary Magdalene. Take these Botticelli wedding frescoes, for example. The groom, Lorenzo Tornabuoni, was from one strand of the bloodline. His bride, Giovanna Albizzi, was from an even more exalted noble lineage. You will notice in the fresco that she wears red to symbolize her relationship with the Magdalene line. That was a very important wedding because it merged two very powerful dynastic families who had been at war for a very long time.”

Neither Maureen nor Peter spoke, waiting to see what other details Sinclair would choose to share.

“It has even been speculated that all of these artists were bloodline themselves and that their great talent came from divine genetics. This is entirely possible, probable in Sandro’s case. And we are certain it is true of several French masters, like Georges de la Tour, who painted his muse and ancestor over and over again.”

Maureen was excited that she recognized this reference. “I saw one of de la Tour’s paintings during my research.
The Penitent Magdalene
is in Los Angeles.” She had been very moved by the beautiful painting’s use of light and shadow. Mary Magdalene, her hand on the skull of penitence, stares into the flickering light of a candle that reflects in a mirror.

“You saw
one
of the
Penitent Magdalenes,
” Sinclair clarified. “He painted many with subtle variations. Several have been lost. One was stolen from a museum in my grandfather’s day.”

“How do you know that Georges de la Tour was related to the bloodline?”

“His name is the first clue. De la Tour means ‘of the tower.’It’s a bit of a pun, actually. The name Magdala comes from the word ‘migdal,’ which means tower. So she is literally Mary from the place of the tower. As you already know, some argue that Magdalene is a title, meaning the Mary
was
the tower, or the leader of her tribe.

“When the Cathars were persecuted, the survivors were forced to change their names to protect their identities, as Cathar names were highly recognizable. They hid their heritage in plain sight, using names like de la Tour and…” — he paused here for dramatic effect — “de Paschal.”

Maureen’s eyes widened at this. “De Paschal?”

“Of course. The Paschal name was used to shield one of the most noble of Cathar families. Again, hiding in plain sight. They called themselves de Paschal in French and di Pasquale in Italian. Children of the paschal lamb.”

Sinclair continued. “And I further know that Georges de la Tour was bloodline because he was the Grand Master of an organization dedicated to preserving the traditions of pure Christianity as brought to Europe by Mary Magdalene.”

It was Peter’s turn to ask. “And what organization is that?”

Sinclair gestured for them to look around. “The Society of Blue Apples. You are dining in the official headquarters of an organization that has existed on this land for over a thousand years.”

Sinclair declined to discuss the society any further, brushing it off with the efficiency of a master manipulator. They spent the rest of the meal discussing their day at Rennes-le-Château and learning more about the enigmatic priest Bérenger Saunière. Sinclair was fiercely proud of his namesake. “The Abbé baptized my grandfather in that church,” Sinclair explained. “It’s no wonder old Alistair was so dedicated to this land.”

“He obviously passed that dedication on to you,” Maureen observed.

“Yes. When he named me after Bérenger Saunière, my grandfather laid a particular blessing on my head. My father objected, but Alistair was made of steel, and no one opposed him for very long, certainly not my father.”

Sinclair declined further explanation, and Maureen and Peter didn’t push for any on what was obviously a personal and sensitive subject. When he was satisfied that the meal was over, Sinclair herded Maureen and Peter out of the dining room. “Come, I want to get back to this issue of Sandro and your marvelous discovery in the Louvre. This way.”

He ushered them into an incongruously modern room filled with state-of-the-art home theater equipment and several computers. Roland was stationed at one of the monitors and offered a genial “bonsoir” as they entered. The French servant punched some keys on a keyboard and then leaned over to press a button on a console. A projection screen dropped from the far wall.

A map of the local area appeared on the screen ahead of them, and Sinclair pointed out several landmarks. “You’ll notice familiar villages: Rennes-le-Château is right over here, and of course, here we are in Arques. The tomb of Poussin that you saw yesterday is here.”

“And that is on your property?” Maureen asked.

Sinclair nodded. “We are certain that one of the most precious treasures in human history is located on these grounds.”

He gestured to Roland, who dropped a grid of the constellations to overlay the local map. The constellations were labeled, with Scorpio falling directly atop the village of Rennes-le-Château. Arques rested between Scorpio and Sagittarius.

“Sandro has drawn us a map. That was his real wedding gift to the noble couple. In fact, what he created was so dangerously accurate that it had to be destroyed immediately. The frescoes were on walls that were part of the Tornabuoni property, so they couldn’t demolish them. Instead, they whitewashed over the painting. They remained hidden until the latter part of the eighteen hundreds, when they were uncovered quite by accident.”

The dawning of realization came over Maureen. “That’s why you live here. In Arques. You think Mary Magdalene buried her gospel here?”

“I’m certain of it. And now you see that Sandro knew it as well. Look at the fresco again. Roland, if you please.”

Roland punched keys that brought up the fresco from the Louvre. Sinclair pointed out the elements. “See, the woman with the scorpion is here. Then moving to the right, there is a woman next to her who is not holding a symbol of any kind. Sitting above them on a throne is the woman with the archer’s bow. But look closely. This woman is draped in red, Mary Magdalene robes, and she is offering the sign of benediction directly over the head of the woman who sits between her and the scorpion woman. That’s the X that marks the spot on the map, between Scorpio and Sagittarius.

“Sandro Botticelli knew the location of the treasure, and Nicolas Poussin certainly did as well. And they were kind enough to leave us clues to find it.”

It wasn’t making sense to Peter. “But why would these artists make maps for public display to reveal the location of such a priceless treasure?”

“Because this treasure has to be earned. It cannot be uncovered by just anyone. We can stand in the very place where the Magdalene buried her treasure every day of our lives, but we will never see it until she decides to show it to us. It was ostensibly hidden with an alchemical process, a lock that can only be opened by the appropriate…energetics, shall we say? The legend says the treasure will reveal itself at the proper time, when one chosen by the Magdalene herself comes to claim it. Sandro and Poussin both hoped it would be uncovered in their lifetimes and tried to assist the process.

“In Botticelli’s case, Giovanna Albizzi was believed to have the potential to find the treasure. She was by all accounts an astonishingly virtuous and spiritual woman, as well as a brilliant and educated one. In Ghirlandaio’s portrait of her, he included an epigram that read ‘Would that art could represent character and mind, there would be no more beautiful painting on earth.’ Do you remember the other fresco in the Louvre? The one they call
Venus and the Three Graces presenting gifts to a young woman
? Well, the young woman, dressed entirely in red, is Giovanna Albizzi. You will note that she is wearing the same bloodline necklace in Botticelli’s fresco that she wears in Ghirlandaio’s portrait. It was a very valuable piece of jewelry made for her to celebrate peace between these very powerful families. There were high hopes for the exalted Giovanna.