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Authors: Traci Harding

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The later Scottish chapter of these priest-kings carried on the traditions and teachings of the famed Fisher Kings of folklore.

‘Another Grail association!’ In my mind, all this information was beginning to connect and merge into new theories, quite opposed to any that had been presented to me to date.

The fairytales and legends which developed out of Grail lore served the equivalent function in the Cathar faith as the parables of the New Testament served in Catholicism. This fairy lore was born in the eighth century following the implementation of the Donation of Constantine, which, incidentally, my order knows is a complete forgery.

The Donation to which Albray referred made its first appearance in the middle of the eighth century, but was thought to have been written by the Emperor
Constantine some four hundred years before, although it was never produced or mentioned in the interim. This document changed the political face of Europe. It proclaimed that the Emperor Constantine appointed the ‘universal pope’ as Christ’s elected representative on Earth, and as the papal dignitary held authority over any earthly ruler he had the power to create and destroy kings. In 751 AD the Vatican began to dispose of the Merovingian line of kings and replaced them with a new dynasty, the Carolingians. This being the case, it was not surprising that Albray’s order believed that the pivotal document was a forgery.

The Donation transformed the nature of monarchy: from an office of princely service to the community it became an office of absolute rule; the kings of Europe became servants of the church instead of servants of the people.

‘Except in Scotland.’ I realised the significance of the Scottish chapter of the Sangreal Knights. In fact, Robert the Bruce and all of Scotland had been excommunicated by the pope of the day.

Indeed,
Albray said.
The Grail legacy was forsaken in all but the Gaelic realms.

‘So when the Bible states that some of Christ’s apostles were fishermen, what the text might actually have said was that they were the Fisher Kings of an ancient priesthood and that they harvested men’s souls, rather than the produce of the sea.’

Albray seemed pleased by my reasoning.
Exactly. Christ himself became a priest of this order after his crucifixion. In the Bible this promotion into the inner sanctum of the senior priests is recorded as the ascension, which reads to the layman like some
supernatural occurrence. But the Essene priests, the Magi, employed the names of the Old Testament archangels. The head priest, or Zadok, was the Archangel Michael, and his ambassador was the Archangel Gabriel, and so on. The name of the inner sanctum of the Melchizedek order was referred to as

‘Heaven!’ I guessed the punchline. ‘In which case, the two angels who guarded the passage to heaven during Jesus’ ascension were Essene priests guarding the inner sanctum of the order.’ I stuck out my bottom lip as I considered this made far more sense than my previous understanding; though I’d not really bothered to form any theories on the subject, as I had always considered the Bible as a propaganda tool rather than a serious historical reference. ‘So,’ I proposed lightheartedly, ‘heaven has sent an angel to me.’ I motioned to the ruins ahead, wherein Akbar awaited.

So it would appear,
Albray conceded with a smile.

I passed through the crumbling Shrine of the Kings into the Main Court, which led to the Portico and the entrance to the Cave of Hathor. Not that there was much to define one chamber of this dwelling from another—the walls and columns were crumbling into the sand and the roof was nonexistent. Only in the cave carved out of the mountain did a roof still remain.

It was clear to me that the structure Andre’s team had uncovered, but not yet opened—which Hereford called the Star-Fire Temple—had obviously superseded the Hathor Temple complex, for there was no evidence that supermetals had been used in this structure or it would probably still be standing in its entirety. It seemed more likely
that this complex was purely for the purpose of the construction and maintenance of the Star-Fire Temple beneath.

Akbar’s two associates stood guard at the entrance to the Cave of Hathor. As I approached, the Bedouins bowed deeply, having comprehended that falling to the ground before me was not appropriate. I took the time to learn their names, which served to set all of us more at ease. They were Kadar and Kamali, neither of whom was as large and imposing as Akbar, but then, they were really little more than youths. They advised that their lord was waiting inside the cave.

I entered the cave. Raising the already unbearable temperature of the day was a tall flaming torch, the handle of which was wedged into the ground where it stood. Akbar was nowhere in sight. Looking up, I noticed the absence of the weapon I’d hung in the roof during my previous visit. ‘You managed to retrieve your sword, I see.’ I announced my arrival, although I felt sure Akbar was well aware of me already.

‘With some difficulty.’ Akbar emerged from behind the pillar of Amenemhet the Third. ‘I shall only ever draw it in your defence from now on,’ he vowed.

‘That’s comforting, Akbar.’ I wiped the sweat from my brow with the palm of my hand. ‘Could we not have met down at the camp? There’s nobody there.’

‘Any walls belonging to Molier have ears. This place I trust.’ He took a seat on the ground and I joined him.

‘You are implying that my tent might be bugged?’ I was shocked.

‘Molier likes to know everything about everyone who works for him.’ Akbar further inflamed my fears.

‘Then how is it that you managed to obtain employment?’ I wasn’t sure I believed that this expedition was as cloak and dagger as he implied.

‘I am just an Arab,’ Akbar explained, ‘and not considered a threat.’

What if the surveillance situation was true? What would anyone listening make of my conversations with Albray? If Molier had killed Albray, would he suspect to whom I referred? I looked at Albray, who was asking what the term ‘bugged’ meant.
It is an electronic means of listening in to the conversations going on in my tent,
I explained simply.

Albray was worried.
That would mean that Molier could be aware of my presence here!

I’m so sorry.
Now, because I was too lazy to use our psychic link, I might have given my ace-in-the-hole away.
He can’t harm you, can he?

I’m not worried for me,
Albray clarified.
Molier has the know-how to banish me in order to get to you. You must not let him get his hands on the stone.

I will not,
I vowed, touched that Albray was more concerned about my welfare than his own. ‘What interest does Molier have in me?’ I asked Akbar.

‘His is a sinister and perverse purpose. He has a lust for supernatural power and sacred knowledge that is second to none and he will do anything to achieve his goals.’

What did I tell you!
Albray was impressed by Akbar’s assessment.

‘But what is Molier’s agenda?’

Akbar fixed me in his gaze. ‘He seeks the Plane of Shar-on.’

I frowned. ‘But the Plain of Sharon is in Israel.’

‘That is a longstanding confusion,’ he informed me. ‘The Plane of Shar-on is not of this world. In pyramid texts it is called the Field of Iaru.’

‘The dimension of the blessed.’ I had heard of that.

‘It is the dimension of the orbit of light,’ Akbar stated.

‘Well, that sounds like a nice place. I can understand why Molier would want to go there.’ I rolled with it. ‘I still don’t see the malicious intent.’

‘Molier shall never achieve his goal,’ Akbar assured me. ‘An abomination such as he could never ascend to Shar-on. The porthole would be shut down forever if he attempted to utilise it. Our problem is that Molier still believes this avenue is open to him, via a daughter of Isis, such as you are.’

From reading about Earnest Devere’s heightened psychic awareness, obtained through his union with Ashlee, I suspected I knew what Akbar was driving at. ‘Then…I would not be of use to Molier unless I love him.’

‘Exactly.’ Akbar was pleased that I was following his explanation. ‘But Molier could enchant you into believing that he is a man you love. If you currently hold feelings for someone he could assume their appearance in order to get to you. Does any one man hold your heart at this time?’

What an embarrassing question to be asked with Albray crouched right alongside me. If I said no, I might give Albray the wrong impression, and as I doubted that Molier could impersonate a ghost and get away with it, there was no point trying to explain Albray to Akbar.

‘I would not ask if the answer was not vital for your protection,’ Akbar prompted, as I was taking so long to reply.

‘There is not a man alive who interests me at present,’ I told him in all honesty.

‘Are you sure?’ Akbar grilled. ‘No movie stars you have a crush on?’

I laughed and shook my head. ‘I’m far more likely to have a crush on a professor than a movie star, but all the same, there is no one.’

‘Then that only leaves Molier the option of enchanting you into believing that you are in love with him.’ Akbar was thinking out loud.

‘You make him sound like a sorcerer.’

‘That is exactly what he is.’ Akbar awarded me his full attention once more. ‘He has cheated his physical nature on every level, and now he seeks to cheat the cosmic order on a spiritual level as well.’

‘He expects that a union with me is going to do that for him?’

‘No.’ Akbar smiled, amused by my naivety. ‘He would seduce you only in order to open the door to the temple complex inside this mountain. He needs a daughter of the blood to do that.’

‘So he does.’ I bit my lip as I considered this. ‘So, Molier is of the blood too,’ I assumed.

Akbar shook his head. ‘That is why he is an abomination. No other man in recorded history who did not carry the Gene of Isis has ever been fed the “ambrosia of the gods”. It is our understanding that only those souls who are ready for spiritual advancement will be born into the bloodline, and to abuse divine order is an offence against the gods. Molier does not carry the gene of Isis in his molecular structure, so the Fire-Stone substance
could not react on it to activate his spiritual enlightenment. However, it has mutated his DNA in ways that we could not, and cannot, predict. He is the only abomination of his kind that we know of so there is no precedent for his crime.’

‘So Molier is after the Star and Fire vials,’ I ventured, ‘but to what end? It is my understanding that the Star substance is virtually useless to a man unless he has the love of a daughter of the bloodline.’

‘You know about the vials?’ Akbar was obviously very curious to know how I got that information.

I only nodded so that he would continue to fill me in on what he knew.

‘Urim-Schumir
and
Thummim-Schethiya
—the Fire-Stone and the Highward Fire-Stone—are treasures of the House of Gold. When these are brought together over the Ark of the Covenant they manifest unified light and perfection and create a porthole to the Plane of Shar-on.’

Now I was beginning to fathom the big picture, although I could scarcely believe it. ‘Are you trying to tell me that the Ark of the Covenant is hidden in this mountain?’ In Hereford’s account regarding the Star-Fire Temple, he and his wife had never opened the door in that inner chamber. Was
this
what it contained?

‘I could not tell you,’ Akbar conceded, as the door to the complex had not been opened in several lifetimes. ‘But it is said that one of the Arks is still hidden here.’

‘One of the Arks?’ I queried, believing that only one existed.

‘Even a text as incomplete as the Bible clearly hints at this, for it mentions both the Ark of the
Covenant that was made by Bezaleel to house the Tables of Testimony and the Ark built by Moses, supposedly to house the Ten Commandments.’

‘And which of these is thought to be housed in this mountain?’ I queried.

‘Hard to say,’ Akbar admitted, ‘for both were fashioned here on Mt Serâbit.’

‘Well, what is the worst that could happen if Molier succeeded in his aims? The porthole to Sharon would be closed?’

‘That would be the beginning of the end for this world,’ Akbar said emphatically. ‘Denied access to the Plane of Shar-on, Molier would still have access to the most powerful tool known to mankind, but there are specific instructions for the handling of the Ark. If these rules are not obeyed it will kill without warning, and the fury of its unleashed power will cause plagues and tumours upon the earth.’

‘I see.’ I exhaled deeply, not really wanting to think about the most obvious solution to our troubles. ‘Perhaps I should just go home,’ I ventured, though it pained me to say it.

‘There is no point now,’ Akbar hastened to tell me. ‘Molier knows of your existence and he will hunt you down.’

‘You make it sound like he’s stalking me.’

‘He
is!’
Both Akbar and Albray responded at once.

It seemed to follow that if the daughters of Isis were Molier’s fetish, he had had one within his grasp two centuries ago!
Ashlee hasn’t mentioned being stalked by him.

Yet!
Albray emphasised.
You haven’t finished reading her journal.

‘Then what would you have me do?’ I put the question to Akbar and Albray.

‘You must combat Molier and defeat him,’ Akbar replied as if the answer was obvious.

Exactly,
Albray concurred. I
keep telling you that we need to work on your psychic talents, as it will take more than a sword to defeat Molier . .. I am the non-living proof of that.

I was so horrified by the suggestion that I couldn’t speak.

‘I assumed that you knew your mission here.’ Akbar clearly hadn’t wanted to alarm me. ‘You have such talent with a sword that I assumed you had been trained for the purpose.’

Overwhelmed as I was, I didn’t want to alarm Akbar either. ‘You might say I am still in training,’ I clarified for his benefit. ‘I hope to be ready by the time Molier arrives here in the Sinai, if indeed he intends to come here.’

BOOK: Gene of Isis
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