After the celebrations, when most newlyweds would head off on their honeymoon, Lord Suffolk and I were encouraged to delay our departure until the morrow. Come evening, many of our more honoured guests were yet to depart and so my husband indulged his male associates with drinks, whilst I was led away to prepare for my wedding night, which my mother and her remaining female guests insisted on overseeing.
I had expected that my female companions would leave me to await my husband. Instead, I was stripped naked, shrouded in a hooded robe of deep red and led out into the woodland to a clearing where a huge old oak tree stood. Here I was instructed to await my lord, and all but my mother returned to the house.
‘Mama?’ I asked her for an explanation, as it was coming on to nightfall and the strange choice of location for my first union with my husband made me feel exposed and anxious.
‘You are safe here,’ Mama assured me. ‘Your lord will join you presently.’
I watched her depart through the encroaching night shadows of the wood, and when I turned back to move further into the clearing I noticed a light coming from within the huge hollow of the oak tree—the entrance of which was high enough for a fullgrown man to enter standing upright. At first the source appeared to be a large ball of pure light, which, although brilliant, did not hurt my eyes. I stood paralysed in awe as the ball unfolded into the form of an extremely tall and beautiful man, whom I could see straight through. The figure was completely white, thus it was impossible to discern nationality or colouring.
A ghost! My conclusion struck terror into my heart, but before I had time to consider a retreat, the handsome apparition looked to me and I was immediately calmed and enchanted by his gaze.
‘Who are you?’ I asked, timidly taking a few steps nearer to get a closer look at him. His features were rather elongated, his eyes very large, his hair long, and his ears came to a point at the top—like a pixie’s.
The figure smiled and all my cares departed for a beautiful, fleeting second.
‘My Lady Suffolk?’
I heard my husband call to me from beyond the entrance into the large tree hollow. My panic returned and I ran to him.
‘My lady, praise God!’ my husband exclaimed when he saw me coming towards him in the moonlight. ‘I think I have been drugged!’ He stumbled as he spoke.
I put out my arms to support him.‘Why do you think so?’
‘All my senses are extremely acute.’ He frowned as he endeavoured to explain. ‘And I can see in the dark! There’s brilliant colour in everything!’ He waved an arm about, motioning to the woodland around us, and then looked back to me. ‘You…’ He staggered backwards, amazed by what he beheld. ‘You look like an angel.’
I was amused and flattered by his observation, until I realised it was not me he was pointing at but the figure that now stood alongside us.
‘An angel…’ My lord’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and his body began to collapse towards the ground. As he fell, the spirit dispersed into lightmatter, which rushed into my husband’s body. Inches from the ground, his descent stopped and his body righted itself to a standing position.
My lord’s eyes remained closed, so I brushed a hand against his cheek to wake him. His lids raised to reveal eyes that glowed intensely. The shock of seeing the angel’s presence inside my husband caused me to withdraw, but he clutched my hands to gently delay me. His touch was magnetic and altogether calming. His lips gently enfolded my own and I allowed my lord to pull my body closer. It felt as if my entire self was being injected with wave after wave of euphoria. At some level I knew the physical act of sexual intercourse was taking place, yet the subtle energy transfer was so overwhelming and intense that I remember little of losing my virginity. I recall my consciousness shooting through the universe in a blissfully hyper-aware state for a time, yet I was compelled to rejoin my body as I reached a point of sexual climax.
So now you see how guilty I am.
Ashlee, however, is a unique being who is too integral to humanity to spend her life imprisoned. There must be another solution to be found, where her talents may be nurtured, understood and put to good use. Why else is she here? On threat of banishment from my home and family, I pray that my lord can forgive my deceit long enough to consider this plea for mercy.
I was more shocked by the claims in this document than those I had read in the ancient translation in Malory’s library earlier that afternoon. I considered that if Malory had not read this account, then his gift to me was a startling coincidence when one considered the similarities between the two texts.
Obviously Mama had never given this letter to Papa, as he had been persuaded by my late mentor, Lady Charlotte, to release me from the asylum—which must have come as a great relief to Mama. Papa must have found this confession after Mama had passed away, and perhaps he had taken it to the Grand Master of the secret knighthood—which he’d abandoned shortly after his wedding night—to confront him with the contents. I could really only speculate as to how the document had ended up in the archives of the Sangreal Knighthood; of more concern to me was the esoteric implication of Mama’s confession.
Father had complained of feeling drugged the night of his wedding, and I knew that for my father’s psychic senses to have been heightened enough to see my mother’s aura and an angelic being, he must have been fed Star-Fire. But where would the brotherhood have acquired the otherworldly substance? Legend had it that the otherworldly race the Nefilim were the master producers of Star-Fire, which seemed to imply that the Sangreal brotherhood was still acquainted with the Nefilim and was supplied by them. Or perhaps the knights had acquired the knowledge to produce their own Star-Fire. Of greater interest to me was my mother’s claim that I was of the bloodline of the Dragon Queens, about whom I knew nothing.
A knock on the library door startled me. I folded the document and hid it inside the nearest book. ‘Enter.’
Part of me was delighted when Levi joined me in the library, for my mother’s account was disturbing and I was pleased for the distraction. On the other hand, Levi’s early arrival was a nuisance in so far as my travel plans were concerned.
‘I thought I might find you in here,’ he said with a large smile on his face.
I suspected that my son already knew about my pending journey. Unlike me, Levi did not need to be in a person’s close vicinity to know their thoughts; he had a knack of plucking any information he desired from the stratosphere, as easily as others selected flowers from a garden. I wondered why his arrival had not been announced.
‘I did not expect you until tomorrow.’ I moved to greet my tall, handsome lad—as blond as his father but with not even the hint of my waves or my Lord Devere’s curls.
‘Indeed…but I managed to get away early.’ Levi took hold of both my hands and kissed my cheek. ‘And I came here directly, so that we might have more time to talk.’
‘Was there something in particular you wanted to discuss?’
If my son’s early arrival was due to the cause I suspected, that meant he had known the outcome of my meeting with Malory this afternoon before it had even taken place.
Levi returned my loving smile, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief.
It was always a happy and lively occasion when our family came together over dinner. Levi was something of a harmonising force in our lives; he brought out the best in everyone. Since he had been away studying, the mood of all in our house had been rather subdued.
Our eldest daughter, Rebecca, was a feisty sixteen-year-old redhead who rarely stopped talking and so missed exchanging lively banter with her older brother. Daughter number two, Charlotte, was fourteen and exactly the opposite of Rebecca, as she rarely said a word. Unlike her older sister, who was psychically void of talent, Charlotte, like Levi and myself, had the gift of clairvoyance and was particularly interested in the natural world. Hence Charlotte and Levi had a psychic bond and understanding, which Charlotte did not have with her other siblings. The youngest of our chi
ldren, Thomas—who did not object to being named after my father—was a typical ten-year-old boy who missed having his brother around as he resented being left in a house with so much female company. I think my Lord Devere missed Levi for the same reason. Myself, I missed Levi’s constant little psychic challenges—like the current one concerning whether or not I would break the news to my husband of Levi’s intent to accompany me to Persia.
My suspicion concerning the reason Levi had wanted to speak with me had proved correct, and I had insisted that I intended to tell my lord of my plans only. If Levi wanted to throw away his fellowship to accompany me, then that was a matter for him to take up with his father. I had no intention of championing his cause, despite the fact that Levi predicted quite the opposite—and his predictions were seldom wrong.
Upon the conclusion of the main course, Tibbs entered to announce that there was a strange man at the front door, who refused to leave a calling card and was requesting an immediate audience with myself.
‘How do you mean “strange”, Tibbs?’ Lord Devere inquired.
‘The gentleman appears to be a gypsy, my lord,’ Tibbs said with disdain.
‘A gypsy?’ The announcement sent my heart soaring into my throat and I looked to my husband in disbelief. ‘Could it be…?’
The dulcet sound of a violin wafted from the entrance hall through to the dining room. My husband and I both smiled broadly. ‘It is!’ we cried in accord.
‘Show the gentleman in,’ Lord Devere decreed. ‘And have another place set at our table.’
Tibbs seemed rather puzzled by our resolve. ‘Very good, my lord.’
In France, I had once saved the man at our door from imprisonment, after duelling with the finest swordsman of the duke who held him captive. He had composed the tune now being played in our foyer in honour of my success. It sounded as if the gypsy captain was still able to enchant the heart of any woman with his music—which was what had landed him in the duke’s prison in the first place, having briefly enchanted the Duchess de Guise.
As my old gypsy friend entered the dining room, I stood and moved to greet him. ‘Cingar Choron.’
The years of outdoor living had aged my old travelling companion—streaks of grey now tinged his long dark curls, moustache and beard, and his skin was more leathered and tanned—yet he was as handsome as ever. Cingar was still long and lean, but his stride seemed to have lost a little of its bounce. It seemed to me that he had experienced a tragedy recently—which was confirmed when I clearly perceived the deep muddy patch that encompassed the heart centre of his auric body.
‘Welcome to our home, captain.’ I embraced him tightly. ‘After twenty years what could possibly have brought you to our door?’
Cingar’s clan usually travelled through southern France and Italy, although Cingar had also travelled in the East, in search of exotic wares to peddle on the continent. Never had he ventured so far north as to visit us in England, however.
‘Chiara sent me,’ the gypsy replied. ‘She said you were embarking on a journey and would require my assistance.’ He looked concerned when my husband appeared confused, and I was stumped as to how to react.
‘But what of your wife, Jessenia?’ I asked, hoping to change the subject. ‘And how will your clan manage without their captain?’
The look on Cingar’s face said it all.
‘Jessenia has passed,’ I surmised.
‘Last winter,’ was all the explanation he could bring himself to give. ‘As for my people, my son, not much younger than your own boy,’ he motioned to Levi, ‘has taken charge of our band to get a feel for his future responsibilities…leaving me free to serve you once again.’ He bowed.
I took Cingar by the arm and leapt into the formalities, to prevent my husband enquiring after our gypsy friend’s purpose. ‘Allow me to introduce you to our children,’ I said, and led him around the table to meet them one by one.
My Lord Devere waited patiently as our children had their say, then proved he was not to be distracted from the matter at hand. ‘Lady Devere and I have no knowledge of an imminent journey,’ he informed Cingar. ‘Do we, darling?’ He turned to me.
I have always refused to tell my love a barefaced lie, so what choice did I have but to confess…or at least refrain from responding for a moment or two?
‘Do we?’ my husband fished, beginning to suspect that I had some explaining to do.
I raised both brows and forced a smile, which more than adequately answered his query.
‘Oh no.’ Cingar looked to me apologetically. ‘Is my arrival a trifle premature?’
‘That’s the price you pay for associating with spirits,’ I said, dismissing the inconvenience. ‘With such a scarce awareness of time, they are bound to get it wrong on occasion.’
‘It seems we need to talk,’ my husband suggested amicably, motioning towards the door.
As my Lord Devere excused himself, I looked back to the table to find Levi smiling broadly. He made a small punching motion with his fist to spur me on to my confession.
‘I think an adventure is a splendid idea!’ My husband surprised me with his response once I had confessed all. ‘How soon do we leave?’
We! I was doubly floored by this premise. ‘But what about your parliamentary duties?’
Devere waved me to silence. ‘A complete bore…I trust my brother shall get word to me if my presence is necessary. To get anything through parliament seems to require a lifetime of argument, so I’m quite sure we shall return long before I am urgently needed.’
‘Are you sure? I will be fine on my own,’ I said, subtly trying to discourage him. I didn’t know why I wanted to go on this journey without him; maybe I just needed to escape being Lady Granville-Devere, wife and mother, for a time and recall what it was like to be Ashlee.
‘Ahh…you don’t want me to come.’ My husband saw through my intent in a second—he was quite the psychic himself these days. ‘You think I am prepared to let you go running off with Cingar, Levi and that ghost of yours without me?’
‘I do not intend to take that ghost of mine.’ Then his words registered fully. ‘You are aware that Levi wishes to accompany me?’
‘As such a journey is our son’s life ambition, naturally he will want to go,’ my husband replied. ‘Levi never wanted the fellowship anyway, nor has he the slightest interest in politics, his inheritance, running an estate, or even England for that matter.’
‘Much like his parents,’ I commented, pleased that my husband was considering our son’s wishes. My Devere was not like most men in this day and age; he knew his family well and I loved him for it. ‘Of course I want you to come with me, if that is what you wish.’ I approached my husband and wrapped my arms around his neck. ‘But what shall we do about Levi?’ I had sworn not to take up my son’s battle and here I was doing just that, proving his prediction right.
‘He’s a grown man, free to choose his own path,’ Devere said wisely, his brilliant blue eyes alive with thought. ‘You do know why Levi wants to go to the Holy Lands so desperately?’
I had always assumed it was because he had been conceived during my Sinai trip, but something suddenly told me this was not the case.
‘Levi believes that he’s going to meet a woman there,’ my husband went on, ‘someone integral to his destiny.’
‘He told you that?’ I was delighted that our son would disclose such intimate insights to his father.
My husband nodded and grinned. ‘He was twelve years old at the time, but I believe that the premonition is still a large part of his passion for knowledge about the region.’
I didn’t know quite how to react to this news, but it certainly explained Levi’s lack of interest in the marriage market in London. ‘So in the end it all boils down to a woman?’ I said.
My husband thought my comment ironic. ‘Always, my dear.’ He bowed gallantly.
REVELATION 3
THE FERTILE CRESCENT
‘In 10,000 BC a moon-shaped expa
nse of land, ideal for cultivation, encompassed much of Mesopotamia, Canaan and Egypt. This area was the cradle of civilisation that became known as the Fertile Crescent.
‘Although we know of the city of Ur from Biblical accounts, its exact location has remained a mystery. Still, the Bible hinted at its whereabouts, stating that Abram—Abraham—came from Ur of the Chaldees, which is believed to refer to the Tigris–Euphrates region of what was once southern Mesopotamia. This would place Ur at the extreme south-eastern tip of the Fertile Crescent.’
Levi, Lord Devere, Cingar and myself were standing at the rail of our vessel, the Sea Rose, gazing out over the Persian Gulf, while Levi gave us a brief overview of the legendary city of Ur.
‘So what you are saying is that this excavation we are travelling to may have unearthed the birthplace of Abraham?’ Lord Devere said.
‘It is a distinct possibility,’ Levi confirmed.
It had taken four months to get here. From London we had sailed all the way to Alexandria, then travelled overland to the Red Sea, where this vessel had been waiting to take us via the Arabian Sea and the Gulf of Oman into the Persian Gulf. Three years previous, the British had signed a maritime truce with all the scheikhs on the coast of Oman prohibiting the building of big ships and fortifications along the Trucial Coast. As a result, the British East India Company ruled the Gulf and hence our vessel had sailed the once-infamous ‘pirate coast’, without incident.
As the land we sought to explore drew close, Levi was finding it increasingly difficult to repress his anticipation. He’d endured the camel ride through the desert from Cairo to Suez like one of the Bedouin, when the rest of our party had been affected by the heat. A few hours in the company of real Bedouin and Levi was chatting to them in their dialect and making friends rapidly. He was so interested in the culture and history of the region that he found plenty to talk about with everyone we met, and his knowledge of their civilisation greatly impressed the locals.