Legacy Of The Sphinx: Connor Tremayne Series, #1

By Michael Goulding

The background to "Legacy Of The Sphinx" is an ancient mystery – perhaps one of the greatest mysteries of them all: what happened to Ark of the Covenant after the reign of Solomon, a thousand years before Christ? 
 
It is however, a lot more than just another biblical mystery, taking into account some of the latest cuting edge developments  in the physical sciences; and including the forbidden love between a disillusioned, former Jesuit priest and a young girl who was transferred into a Carmlelite institution as a novice at the the tender age of just 15 years. 

The involvement of both the Vatican and the "Knights Templar" in the fictional events leading to the remnants of the Ark being buried in modern-day Cornwall, lends factual historical interest to the story -- as does the the age-old controversy surrounding the identity of Moses; and the contents and capabilities of the Ark itself.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michael Goulding
• Release date: Apr 26, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386986508

Michael Goulding

The late Michael Goulding was a full-time writer and freelance journalist, who spent his early career in IT Sales and Marketing. After studying at Technical College and later the Open University, he qualified with a Business Studies Degree and a BA in Psychology and began work in the 1960's during the formative years of the emerging IT industry, becoming a professional Systems Analyst and later an IT consultant He spent time in both England and the U.S.A. working with some of the leading British and American pioneering computer Companies: including NCR Limited, Honeywell Information Systems and the Digital Equipment Corporation of Maynard, Massachusetts. Changing direction by moving into the Retail Licensed Trade in the UK and overseas, he worked initially in District Management with a major British brewery and later managed traditional inns in England for over ten years before gaining qualifications as a Trainer’s Trainer with the Hotel and Catering Industry Training Board. His first, full-length non-fiction book: "The British Pub Guide", sold well throughout the United Kingdom. His first novel, "Legacy of the Sphinx", attracted much attention due to the basis of its plot: the age-old mystery surrounding Moses, the Ark of the Covenant and its disappearance shortly after the reign of Solomon at the turn of the first Century BC. The novel has long been available on Amazon Kindle where it remained in the Top 100 Romantic Thrillers for more than two years. A follow-up to this story was also published by Kindle entitled "Angel of Death", which in 2012, also entered the Kindle Top 100 Romantic and Suspense Fiction charts where it remained for several further years The principal character in both books is Connor Tremayne, a disillusioned former Jesuit and professional assassin with a clandestine, Church-controlled organization formed originally within the Vatican but now headquartered on the eastern seaboard of the United States. In December, 2012, Kindle released a compilation of Michael’s original Ghost & Horror stories published in the “honorable tradition of Weird Tales” and entitled: "Shades of Darkness". And in 2013 he published his first crime thriller: a murder mystery entitled "Lovers and Other Strangers".  He passed away in November 2020.

Book preview

Chapter One

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‘I must remind you, Father Tremayne, that you have taken a sacred vow of chastity. Your comings and goings have attracted attention. You visit this woman too often – and she is not the first.’

The office was oppressive. It was summer in Rome, the height of the tourist season and street noises drifted through the open windows to increase the claustrophobia of the small, panelled room. A fan circling idly above Connor’s head did no more than disturb the stifling air. He had guessed that the subject of his personal life would be on the agenda.

‘Well?’ his Superior demanded. ‘Have you nothing to say?’

Tall, gaunt and severe, Emilio Delgado Alvarez was not a person to accept defiance lightly. The thought of a loving, heterosexual relationship between a man and a woman conjured up visions of Hell itself. Unlike Connor, he was old Church and the two priests had nothing in common except the Order they both served.

‘Of what concern am I to someone of your eminence, that you should trouble yourself with the integrity of my soul?’ Connor replied. ‘A matter of great importance of course, but surely one that rests between me and God in his infinite wisdom?’

The Jesuit Superior rose to his feet.

Connor could see that Alvarez was almost too outraged to speak. His apparent indifference to the indiscretions of which he had been accused was the ultimate insult and when the response came, it burst forth to explode shell-like into the tranquillity of the confined space.

‘All of my flock, each individual soul, Father Tremayne, is of great concern to me.’ His voice rose to a crescendo of anger. ‘And your inference otherwise is an affront.’

Connor remained impassive. Disillusioned with the Church and its inability to come to terms with the science and reality of the modern world, he had already decided to renounce his vows and leave Rome. The outcome of this meeting therefore, was of little consequence to him. So he simply sat and watched Alvarez struggle to come to terms with an uncharacteristic loss of self-restraint.

‘Under any other circumstances I would have you stripped of your office and despatched indefinitely to do good works in a place where your temptations would haunt you for the rest of your days.’

The sounds of pedestrians and cyclists crossing the Plaza below drew Connor and he wished he were among the crowds now, pedalling his way to Magdalena’s apartment. Then a church bell tolled outside and its resonance had the effect of lessening the tension that seemed to hang in the air inside the room.

As Alvarez regained his composure and lowered himself into the chair with measured deliberation, it was as if he wished to preserve what remained of his dignity. ‘Your unacceptable, carnal practices, however, are not the reason why I asked you here,’ he continued. his voice trembling with suppressed emotion. ‘The Society of Jesus has a task for you of such importance that it is only with considerable reluctance we entrust it to a person of your . . . character.’

Connor was intrigued. What could possibly be important enough to induce a man like Alvarez to back down to a lowly fellow priest of his Province?

‘In 1947, in a cave in the Mesopotamian desert, a Bedouin goatherd discovered a number of large, earthenware jars,’ Alvarez continued. ‘The jars contained documents now popularly known as the Dead Sea Scrolls. They were made of skin and had been stored wrapped in linen. Seven of them were later sold for private gain; three acquired on behalf of the new state of Israel and the remainder were eventually to cause a scandal after being advertised in the Wall Street Journal. Within a year 850 had been unearthed, and the latest carbon dating places most of them as originating during the two centuries before the birth of Christ.’

‘‘What you tell me is common knowledge, Father Delgado.’

‘‘Be patient. It is a trait you would do well to develop. When scholars realised the significance of what the scrolls might contain, efforts were made to piece them together and decipher them. A Dominican priest was appointed to lead the team and I was a member of that exclusive group. It took almost ten years to retrieve what it was possible to salvage and I remember it being amusing at the time to refer to the documents as the Dead Sea confetti, for the reason that they were in tens of thousands of pieces, many of them no more than a few centimetres in size. With the exception of a mere dozen or so scrolls, large parts of the original documents were either missing or decayed beyond recovery.’ Alvarez paused as if for effect. ‘What I am now about to tell you must never be repeated. Do I make myself quite clear, Father Tremayne?’

The man’s dislike of him was evident enough in his words to bring a smile to Connor’s face in spite of the tone of their meeting.

‘You think that amusing?’

Not wishing to antagonise the man, Connor answered in sober tones. ‘You make yourself clear, Father,’ he said.

‘At the General Congregation of 1957, among the Postulata submitted and subsequently chosen, was a proposal for the investigation of the Dead Sea Scrolls. A special Commission was ordered to consider the texts and the information they contained; I was appointed Head of that Commission. There have been only four General Congregations in the intervening decades, and on each occasion sub-commissions were convened to continue the investigations. During this period, the Society of Jesus has discreetly acquired a further two scrolls and one of them has been found to contain revelations of such magnitude as to change our entire view of humankind. If ever made public, the information it contains is of sufficient import to call into question the very foundations of the Church.’

The Roman Catholic Church had, Connor knew, hidden documents, letters and historical texts of great significance in its archives for centuries. This was a fact hardly worthy of note. But, of such magnitude as to call into question the very foundations of the Church? His Superior was not a man prone to exaggeration, so what could this damaging information possibly be? And why reveal it now, to a person of his own insignificance?

‘What are these revelations?’ he asked.

Alvarez ignored the question. ‘A number of the scrolls and the fragments to which I refer, together with the two most recently translated, are still in our possession, and ever since the turmoil that ensued following the Arab Israeli war of 1967, Israel is no longer aware of their existence.’ He paused again and sat back, his elbows on the sumptuous desk as he made a bridge with his hands.

Secret meetings, intrigue, theft and politics. All were activities Connor had come to accept as integral to the Vatican way of life. For years his enthusiasm and loyalty had been blunted by ignorance, jealousy and power struggles until finally, he had been left with no alternative but to confront the truth: that the Church he had subscribed to and believed in for his entire adult life, was not the one he had imagined it to be. His conclusion had caused him to re-evaluate his vocation; and, as a result, he had decided that there were better ways of fighting for what he believed in and of serving God. Now, as he waited for Alvarez to continue and noted his Superior’s voice and posture, Connor decided that a part of the man was enjoying every moment of this rare opportunity to speak of what he knew; and he felt he had been vindicated in his decision.

Alvarez finally came to the point. ‘As a result of the information contained in one of these two scrolls, we believe we now know the whereabouts of the Ark of The Testament,’ he said.

Connor was impressed. He was however, still puzzled. Even the Ark, possibly the greatest relic in the history of the human race, did not suggest anything to him that would lead to the very foundations of the Church being called into question.

‘And the other scroll?’ he asked, after a moment’s silence.

‘I can only tell you at this time that we wish you to travel to a place in Cornwall, England, known as Tregellan, to undertake further investigations for us there. Needless to say, you will be in secular attire: a teacher on holiday for the summer term, seeking relatives who may still live in Cornwall.’

Chapter Two

Not only was his Jesuit Superior’s proposal unprecedented in Connor’s experience, but after having been consigned to a desk job in Rome for years, he also found it difficult to believe that he had been chosen to represent the Church in a search for an ancient artefact – especially when it involved his returning to his beloved Cornwall.

‘You are suggesting that Cornwall is where you believe the Ark to have been finally located?’ he asked.

‘Whatever may remain of it and all its accoutrements, yes. We can discuss your assignment in more detail tomorrow however, when you are to meet with the Head of Decree Four.’

Suddenly animated, Connor leaned forward. ‘Father Kowalski?’ he asked.

‘Yes.’

‘He is here, in Rome?

‘Yes.’

Connor recalled the long months he had spent in the mountains of Tibet and a Shaolin temple in China very soon after first joining the Society of Jesus. It had removed any final traces of innocence from the young man he had then been; and provided him with such an awareness of both his own external and inner selves that no Psychology degree or conventional physical skills training could ever have done.

He had always assumed the reason for his recruitment into the exclusive, covert inner Jesuit circle within the society, known as Decree Four, to have been his prowess in the ancient art of Chinese Kung Fu. A skill he had learned by regular attendance out of hours, at the exclusive Roman Catholic public school he had attended, where students had been allowed one free subject of their choice to study in addition to regular lessons, and Connor had practiced Tai Chi. Following which, after leaving to attend a senior college, he had made rapid progress through the ranks of Kung Fu exponents, finally attaining the highest grade possible outside of China – where further advancement was only possible in the far East.

After joining the Society of Jesus when he left college, he was then invited to take the Decree Four Oath of Allegiance and underwent three further years of physical and mental preparation for his new role; first in a Tibetan monastery and later in the Ho Nang Province of the Chinese Republic and the jungles of Viet Nam, Laos and Cambodia. Immediate subsequent language training in Arabic and several of its intrinsic derivatives, allowed him to extend his language skills even further, in the cesspit of political intrigue and violence that is the Middle East. After which, he had returned to Rome only to languish for years, bored and frustrated.

Alvarez had continued speaking. ‘For now, it is most essential that you understand the importance of appearing to be no more than another holidaymaker among a crowd of regular visitors to the area you will be sent to. And, it is for this reason that you are to have a companion. Her Carmelite name is Sister Marie-Therese, but you will refer to her simply as Mary O’Brien.’

The news was too much, even for Connor. He was astounded.

‘A nun?’ he questioned, in disbelief.

‘A member of the Carmelite Order of nuns.’ Alvarez replied. He appeared embarrassed.

‘You are to travel together as . . . ah . . . a couple, and rooms will be booked for you at a local hostelry.’

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Following his meeting, Connor sat and enjoyed a coffee in the sunshine in one of the narrow busy streets around the corner from St. Peter’s Square, as he reflected on what his Jesuit Superior had told him. In anticipation of his meeting with Father Kowalsky the following day, he had allowed any further questions he might have to be brushed aside. The longer he lingered over his coffee, however, the less he liked the circumstances surrounding what he had been assigned to do. So much so that had it not been for the woman he was now on his way to meet however, there was a distinct possibility that he might never have returned to the Vatican again. He had already reconciled himself to a resignation from both the Church and the Order he served; and nothing was ever going to influence Connor over that pending event.

‘I ask you! A nun!’ he said to Magdelena later, as they lay on her bed together, after making love. ‘She will probably faint at the first sight of naked bodies on the beach!’

The actress had laughed, being surprisingly pragmatic about the possibility of his return to England.

‘It will do you good to get away from Rome, Connor. You have been unhappy here for a long time, I think.’

‘Are you trying to get rid of me?’ he teased.

‘What do they matter? These men in the Vatican. Let them think for now, that they have your trust and loyalty. Use the opportunity to attend to your own interests. Go to England, find out what you can and tell them only what they must know.’

He rolled over and reached for her again. The heat of Rome filled the small apartment she had bought in a fashionable part of the city, and they were both still naked, their bodies damp with sweat following their impatient lovemaking.

She wriggled out of his grasp. A warm breeze stirred the delicate curtains, billowing them out.

‘That way,’ she breathed, ‘if you ever need their assistance again, you will still be able to ask for it.’

He knew she was right but was no longer in any mood to discuss the Vatican, the Jesuits or a proposed visit to England. His questing hands found her, explored her again and their lips met. Their breaths intermingled as his tongue entered her mouth to tease hers. They kissed softly at first, as lovers do in the Spring of their relationship, then more fiercely as Connor began to make love to her for a second time . . . and their passion slowly grew.

He took hold of her by the wrists and gently raised her arms above her head, then pinning her to the bed with one hand, explored her breasts with the other. Again, she pretended to struggle, but as his lips left her mouth and travelled down to her naked breasts in erotic bites and kisses, she pulled his head to her rampant, extended nipples, ran her fingers through his dark hair and murmured her appreciation, signalling her surrender.

Chapter Three

When her Mother Superior with the Bishop in attendance, summoned the young novice into their presence, Mary O’Brien feared a terrible retribution for her past sins. Bishop O’Malley was her Confessor and knew all there was to know of her past transgressions. Even so, she was aware that a sinner’s confidences related in the Confessional are sacrosanct and should have had no fears of being called to account for them.

She had never before, however, been called into her Bishop’s presence, nor had she ever been granted dispensation to speak in the presence of another person from outside the Order; and as she stood, head bowed before her two Superiors, she was filled with an indefinable dread.

‘Please sit down, Sister. We have been granted permission to speak,’ the elderly nun said.

Mary took the only chair available on her side of the small table, facing her two inquisitors. Her Mother Superior also sat, but the Bishop stood at her side looking grim. Mary looked up at the two of them briefly before lowering her gaze again.

‘You have been called upon by God to sacrifice your life in his name and in the name of the Blessed Virgin Mary,’ the old nun intoned. ‘It is my duty now to inform you. . . .’

At these first few words, Mary felt faint. Her past sins had at last caught up with her and she was to face disgrace and punishment!

‘ . . . that the Church has imposed a new penance upon you. It is a burden that requires you to make a decision – a decision that must not be taken lightly. It is also, however, one that you are quite properly free to refuse.’

Bishop O’Malley cleared his throat. ‘What I am about to say to say to you, Sister, is that which your Reverend Mother and I have been requested to ask of you by a much higher authority,’ he said. ‘And we are therefore, bound by such an authority to inform you that the Church wishes you to make a journey – a journey that we both feel would not, ah . . . be in the best interests of your vocation.

A journey! Mary’s spirits soared at the thought. She had prayed for God to give her the strength to embark on the path that had been chosen for her; and prayed many times since, for him to help her stay on it. Her confessed sins were only the tip of an iceberg of desires that assaulted her daily, which she tried constantly to suppress. Although shackled by the constraints of her religious life, deep inside Mary was still very much her own person. Even had she requested release from her novitiate however, she no longer had anyone to go to and nowhere to go. To walk away from the convent, therefore, was not an option for her – a sad fact that was also true for many others among her sister novices. For as long as she remained within the confines of the convent walls, there was inevitability about her taking her final vows and thus becoming another testament to the power of institutional persuasion. Once outside however, her Carmelite identity would be uncertain because the real Mary was a free spirit – something of which the shrewd old woman sat across from her was very aware. Had God answered her prayers at last, Mary asked herself? Perhaps not by granting her what she had asked of him, but by answering her prayers in his own way: offering her release if she wished to take it?

Her Bishop had continued. ‘Your final vows are almost upon you and were it not for this most unusual of circumstances, our meeting today would have been in preparation for your solemn profession. However, only you can make the decision to refuse this request. It is a matter entirely for your own conscience – a choice we feel you are extremely worthy of making . . . but one that we know . . .’ he glanced across at his accomplice, ‘ . . . will not be, ah . . . an easy one for you to make. I trust that we make ourselves understood?’ he concluded awkwardly.

Mary’s head remained bowed in modesty as he spoke. She understood perfectly. His use of the word conscience added to the not so subtle intimation that the decision to refuse the request was the one she should make, made his feelings and those of her Mother Superior on the matter, perfectly clear.

‘It is a decision you will make now,’ her Mother Superior interjected. ‘Following which we must return to the service of God.’

Mary looked up at the two of them. They had stacked the odds in their favour and her Bishop, she thought, looked uncomfortable. They had made it sound as if Mary’s response should be a matter of course and that anything she might have to say constituted an unnecessary interruption to her daily routine. Little choice and no time to make it, she thought wryly.

‘This journey... where is it to?’ she asked humbly.

‘To a place in Cornwall, in England,’ the Bishop said.

‘And why does the Church have need of me to make this journey?’

The old nun glared at her.

‘The Church is aware of course, of your, ah . . .family background and past associations. Your presence was requested specifically and dispensation was granted from the highest possible authority,’ he replied. ‘You are to accompany a priest.’

‘A priest?’

‘Yes, a Jesuit priest.’

‘You have no need of this journey if you do not wish it,’ her Mother Superior interrupted.

Mary caught the warning glance from her Bishop, who shifted uneasily.

‘You are to travel in secular clothes,’ he said.

She appeared to hesitate, her mind now a kaleidoscope of possibilities.

‘Yes, my child?’ Bishop O’Malley said, breaking the oppressive silence.

They were the worst possible words he could have used in addressing Mary – being the ones he routinely used to address her from behind a curtain, when she knelt before him to confess her sins.

Even as he spoke them, the young novice re-lived some of the worst of those occasions and suddenly, all she wanted to do was to get away.

‘I wish to make the journey,’ she said firmly.

Chapter Four

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By the time he saw Alvarez again the following day, Connor had decided that he needed the answers to a few questions before he met with Kowalski. The prize was after all, probably the most precious relic in recorded history; and any person knowing of its whereabouts would become an instant target for every bounty hunter in the Western world.

‘I asked you about the second scroll and you avoided answering my question,’ he said to Alvarez. ‘I ask you again. What information does it contain that could change our entire view of mankind?’

‘At this time, Father Tremayne, that is all you need to know,’ Alvarez replied.

Connor’s politeness disappeared. ‘This object you would have me enquiring about, incognito in Cornwall, is literally priceless. People would kill for any knowledge of its whereabouts. Are you telling me that you are prepared to put my life, and the life of an innocent girl, at risk by refusing to supply information of material interest to my investigations?’ he said angrily.

‘The information is of no material interest to your investigations.’

‘I will be the judge of that, Emilio Alvarez Delgado,’ Connor retorted. ‘In which case, my reply to you is that either you tell me what both scrolls contain or I will go to the location you have given to me in Cornwall and make enquiries on my own behalf. Since my parents died, I have invested wisely. I don’t need your support to do that, financially or otherwise.’

Alvarez paled with anger, not as a result of Connor’s defiance, but at the use of his family name. There was to be no lack of self-control over Connor’s behaviour this time, however.

‘Had it not been for your transgressions, you would have progressed further than the Curia, Father Tremayne,’ he said coldly. ‘I can now assure you of one thing with absolute certainty. It is that whether or not your career, or indeed, you as a person continue to prosper at all, is a matter entirely for my discretion.’

Connor smiled a slow smile. ‘Cheap threats? You do yourself a disservice, Father. I really thought you amounted to more than that. As for my transgressions as you choose to call them, they have kept me sane during the performance of duties that would have failed to test the capabilities of a performing monkey.’

He stood and turned to go.

‘Wait!’

He stopped and faced his Jesuit Superior, who had also risen to his feet.

‘Sit down, Father Tremayne. We are on the same side, you and I.’

‘On the same side?’ Connor scoffed. ‘The crimes committed by the Church throughout its history would put Saddam Hussein to shame; and you have the hypocrisy to accuse me of transgressions! Well, I no longer have a wish to be a team player in your games.’

‘The misdemeanours of the Church are as nothing compared to what is taking place today in the name of science and progress, Father Tremayne,’ Alvarez said. ‘The very existence of mankind is threatened.’

‘‘In whose opinion? Yours?’

Alvarez sat down again. ‘Today, the papacy and our faith are under far greater threat than ever they were before,’ he said. ‘I am obliged to admit, that the reason is largely if not wholly due to the Church’s own reluctance to confront the forces ranged against it – including sadly, some of our own.’

It was not the sort of response Connor had expected.

‘Precisely the reason why I joined the Order,’ he replied. ‘Not to convert heathens, but to fight for what I passionately believe in. Instead of which, you have kept me in this den of iniquity behind a desk for years.’

Alvarez ignored the accusation evident in Connor’s remark.

‘In 1974,’ he began, ‘a task force of delegates chose eight topics of priority to be considered by its members. In the previous ten years, 7,500 men had left the priesthood; the Churchdom threatened the position of the Father General himself, and our Society was strife-torn. As you will know, leading members of our Order made a huge effort to agree on substantial changes within it, including a new definition of the Jesuit mission in the modern world. This task was woven into a Priority of Priorities consisting of sixteen Decrees, the first four of which are the keystone Decrees, and upon them depends the valid interpretation of all the others. The capital, or most important one, was Decree Four, in which the Society commits itself to the worldwide victims of social injustice and political enslavement.’

‘All of which was explained to me at the time I was invited to join.’

‘Please grant me the courtesy to allow me to finish. After considerable delay on the part of Pope Paul, a number of senior influential Jesuits who were dissatisfied with the platitudes and compromises, I among them, met to discuss what should be done in view of the lack of a cohesive defence of the Church. The outcome of that meeting led to the formal inauguration of the group you know of as Decree Four in the Spring of 1975, following the closure of the General Congregation at that time. We represent only ourselves, and our methods are as unorthodox for our times as were those of our founding father, Iñigo de Loyola 400 years before us.

I am a founding member of that organisation. I support its ideals and was one of its few leaders to sanction the widening of our recruitment outside of the Society of Jesus during the final decade of the twentieth century.’

His words were a revelation to Connor, who realised that he may have badly misread the man. If Alvarez was as he claimed, one of the prime movers in the highly powerful, dissident action group of which he was a sworn member, then his Superior was also a greater force for radical change within the Church than he himself could ever hope to be. The two of them may indeed, have been very different individuals; but as Alvarez had said, they were both on the same side. He sat down again.

Alvarez continued. ‘I come to that to which I referred. There is, at the present time, an unrecognised and unopposed evil in our midst, that is far more damaging than either the dogma or politics endemic in the Society of Jesus and in the Vatican. Far more of a threat even, than the confrontation with Islam. From here we go to meet the person who sanctioned your early training when you first joined our Order, and who will enlighten you further.’

‘Why are you only telling me this now?’ Connor asked.

Alvarez regarded him in silence for a few moments before he replied. ‘Because, although I find you personally distasteful, it is better that we work together rather than in conflict.’

‘And if I do not wish to meet with him under the terms you have set out?’

‘Then you will die,’ Alvarez said.

Chapter Five

The man who greeted Connor that afternoon was short and stocky with grey hair and steel-blue eyes.

‘‘Father Kowalski,’ Alvarez introduced him.

The grey-haired priest and Connor shook hands. The priest’s handshake conveyed an impression of inner strength. Although Connor knew of him and was aware that he was the highest-ranking Jesuit Superior in the United States, as well as being the man who headed Decree Four, he had never met him until now. He had heard, however, that unlike Alvarez, who was known as a Conservative within the Order, and that Kowalski held extremely radical views.

‘Your decision to meet with us is a pleasing one, Father Tremayne,’ Kowalski said. ‘Please, sit down. Perhaps now we can talk business, as they say.’

‘I was blackmailed,’ Connor said.

‘You are free to place your own interpretation on what Father Delgado said. As you are also free to choose your own future.’ Kowalski replied.

‘Which is precisely what I am in the process of doing, whilst still under threat,’ Connor replied.

‘‘Let me make something quite clear to you from the outset, Father Tremayne. No one outside of our Organisation is aware of its existence and we would prefer it to remain that way. It is our lives that are at stake, not our livelihoods; and this fact will become increasingly onerous in the coming months and years. We may be few in number but we enjoy great influence. One indication being that we count among our members, many who are neither Jesuits, nor even Roman Catholics. Our greatest strength, however, lies not in the variety of our membership, nor  our unanimity of purpose, but in the priceless advantage that our existence remains unknown. The last thing we need therefore, is a maverick running around who insists on doing his own thing and in his ignorance, compromises our work.’ His eyes were unwavering as they held those of Connor. ‘Do I make myself clear?’

‘You do,’ Connor replied.

‘Good. You took an oath when you joined us and unlike your priestly vows, that commitment cannot be cast aside,’ Kowalski continued. ‘So, as long as you are alive, your first loyalty is to the Organisation we all serve and requires absolute obedience – not simply because it is deemed necessary but also, because it is a symbol of the unity of which I spoke.’

‘I owe you nothing,’ Connor said. ‘On the contrary, you owe me the privilege of anonymity and protection if I choose to continue to work for you.’

Kowalski smiled but his expression was empty of mirth. ‘Only for as long as you live, Father Tremayne. During which time you will continue to serve Decree Four whenever and for whatever reason you are required. There is no choice involved as far as you are concerned.’

Connor understood that he had just been given the equivalent of the ultimatum Alvarez had given him rather more clumsily. The day before his meeting with Kowalski.

‘I understand your meaning perfectly,’ he said. ‘And you should know that that it doesn’t influence me in any way or change anything whatsoever from my point of view.’

If he expected any kind of response from the man sat before him however, Connor received none.

‘This is the last time I shall speak to you in this way. In future, we ask for your respect – and if you have any personal feelings on what is said, then please keep them to yourself.’

Alvarez, stood off to one side, remained stony-faced.

‘When we selected you to work on our behalf,’ Kowalski continued, ‘we did so because you identified closely with our objectives and you have no dependents. And, when you agreed to your special training you were told at the time that there would be no going back – that the person you would become would be a stranger to you.’

The Head of Decree Four rose from his position behind the desk to open a filing cabinet stood alongside, from which he took out a folder.

‘We appreciate that you are frustrated by the inactivity of the past few years,’ he said. ‘Together with your Cornish background, it is one of several reasons why you have been chosen for this particular assignment, which is a most important one.’ He pushed the folder across the desk towards Connor.. ‘Your briefing, together with what we know of the situation in Tregellan, where you are going, is contained in this folder. I cannot authorise the release of a translation of the scroll you spoke of to Father Delgado. I can, however, tell you something of what you may wish to know.’ He nodded to Alvarez.

‘There is something else inside the relic we seek, of which the Bible makes no mention,’ Alvarez said. ‘The Ark contained an object which Moses brought with him when he returned from Egypt following his exile. It was an object so powerful when used, that its existence could not be spoken of – and following the building of the Ark designed to contain it, also had to be shielded from everyone who set eyes upon it, except the appointed guardians, lest they meet with personal injury or death. Moses excluded of course, as its first guardian.’

Connor was intrigued. ‘What kind of object?’ he asked.

‘An artefact that Moses removed from a chamber deep beneath the Sphinx, commonly called a rod in many biblical texts. The scroll referring to it however, describes it as a staff with some kind jewel or stone embedded in it. The Israelites called it the Schamir.’

‘We can also tell you one other fact about this object, Father Tremayne,’ Kowalski added. ‘The same scroll informs us that the artefact Moses discovered and removed from underneath the Sphinx to fashion to his purposes, was extra-terrestrial in origin.’

Chapter Six

Connor had been stunned by, and when he failed to comment, Kowalski addressed Alvarez Delgado.

‘‘Please continue, Father Delgado.’

‘We first acted when in 1979, we received an original, fifteenth-century manuscript through a member of the Knights of St. Columba,’ Alvarez began. ‘The document was quite definite that the Ark was in the possession of the Knights Templar when they returned to the West from their former headquarters in Jerusalem, towards the end of the twelfth century. This was not a new suggestion but it became the earliest and most credible written assertion we had ever had.

‘The author of the manuscript was an educated Dominican Friar who travelled extensively in Abyssinia and the Middle East at the time. He tells us that the traditional guardians of the Ark, the High Priests of the Levite tribe, removed everything they could carry safely from Jerusalem when the then King, Manessa, installed a pagan idol in the Temple of Solomon. From there, he recorded that they transported the Ark and its contents to Egypt, where a new temple was built to house it – hence, it was never stolen by the barbarians who looted everything else at that time or shortly thereafter; and two hundred years later, when it again had to be removed due to warring internal factions, it was transferred locally to an island further south in the middle of the River Nile. All this so far, fits with the known historical facts.

‘From there however, the manuscript departs from the generally accepted view. When the High Priests encountered problems for a third time, this Dominican Friar, who was the appointed representative of the Catholic Church in the region and therefore was very well educated with no small credibility, states with some authority that they decided the legacy of Moses together with the temple housing it and all its accompanying treasures, should never have to be moved ever again. And before the whole community melted away into the desert – an assertion that is also historically accurate, their total disappearance remaining a mystery to this day – he records the Ark was finally transported to a cave atop Mount Nebo, the mountain where Moses had first looked down on the Promised Land and breathed his last. And from where it could be protected for all time from outsiders; as well as being properly worshipped and consulted.’

‘A fitting choice,’ remarked Connor.

‘Our Dominican friar also suggests that the Guardians this time however, resorted to subterfuge, by despatching another Ark south to Abyssinia, for more public consumption, which contained for the purposes of credibility, the original stones that Moses was written about as having brought down from the mountain, when he brought nothing of the sort – the originals being thought to have been crystalline in substance. So, our friar’s account also explains the so-called presence of an Ark of the Covenant in places such as Abyssinia.’

‘Incredible . . . ’ murmured Connor.

‘And as we now know, references to a religious settlement just north of the Dead Sea at Qumran, not far from where Moses died, first began to appear a few hundred years later – shortly before the birth of Jesus.’

‘The Essenes,’ Connor said.

‘Yes – the same group of dedicated Jewish fundamentalists allied to the mystics and healers of Egypt who were around at the time of Moses,’ Kowalski agreed. ‘Who are said to have acquired their knowledge of Ark stones centuries earlier, and who have always claimed to be the