The Templar's Code

the originator of all forms of knowledge, hidden and seen.”

Edie’s eyes opened wide. “Thoth? How can that be? I thought that Thoth had the body of a man and the head of an ibis. How could a bird-man have created the Emerald Tablet?”

Lurching to his feet, Rubin strode across the room to the baby grand piano and seated himself at the keyboard. “The aforementioned Book of the Dead records that in the Zep Tepi, that being the epoch before the Great Flood some twelve thousand years ago, mysterious visitors appeared in Egypt, the sole survivors of Atlantis. These visitors, who were deemed gods by the more primitive Egyptians, introduced the hidden stream of knowledge to the Nile valley. Thoth, the preeminent visitor of the group, became known as the vehicle of all knowledge, the word made manifest. For it was Thoth who created language, science, and medicine. Thus he was deified as Thoth the Thrice Great.”

Pronouncement made, Rubin wiggled all ten fingers, then launched into a Schubert piano lied. Winterreise, unless he was greatly mistaken. Caedmon wondered at the musical selection, one of those dreary pieces that harkened to the pain of love lost.

As abruptly as it began, the recital ended.

“There are numerous ancient writers who claim that Thoth hid a number of sacred relics and esoteric texts inside a massive pair of magnificently crafted columns,” Caedmon said, untangling a few more strands. “The cache, which included the Emerald Tablet, remained concealed for centuries.”

Still seated at the piano bench, Rubin swiveled in their direction. “Which brings us to the great Egyptian heretic, the pharaoh Akhenaton who ruled during the Eighteenth Dynasty.”

“The charge of heresy was leveled when Akhenaton insisted that there was not a central god in the Egyptian pantheon; there was only one god, the Aten,” Caedmon informed Edie, the conversation having veered to a topic that had long fascinated him. “Aten was declared the Supreme Being of Radiant Light, his divine essence embodied in the rays of the sun disk and manifested in the creative process.”

Edie set her empty martini glass on top of the cocktail table. “If Aten was declared the only god, what happened to the bird-man Thoth?”

Rubin graced her with his trademark Cheshire smile. “Absolutely nothing. The creator of knowledge, Thoth preceded and transcended the entire Egyptian pantheon. During Akhenaton’s reign, the sacred Eye of Thoth was transformed into the Radiant Disk of Aten.”

Edie’s brows drew together. “Sorry. Not following.”

Rubin got up from the piano bench and walked over to the built-in bookcase, where he retrieved a sheet of paper and a pencil. Reseating himself in the Le Corbusier knockoff, he quickly drew three images. When finished, he shoved the sheet of paper in Edie’s direction.

“A thousand words, as they say. The Eye of Thoth symbolizes knowledge.” Rubin tapped the drawing on the far left. Then he tapped the sketch in the middle. “The Radiant Disk of Aten symbolizes the divine creation. And, finally, we have the All-Seeing Eye, which embodies and combines the attributes of both Thoth and Aten. Knowledge wedded to creation. Each builds upon the previous one. But at the core of each symbol, you will find Thoth, who designed and fashioned the Emerald Tablet. Which contains the secret of all knowledge and all creation.”

“And that is the reason why the pharaoh Akhenaton searched the whole of Egypt, desperate to find the Emerald Tablet that had been hidden away by Thoth centuries before.” Caedmon leaned forward, the conversation about to get very interesting. “The task of finding the Emerald Tablet fell to Akhenaton’s most trusted magician and fellow Aten devotee, the aptly named Tuthmose.”

“Aptly named because Tuthmose means ‘son of Thoth.’ ” Rubin’s eyes twinkled with delight, the man well aware of where the conversation was headed.

“And though Tuthmose located the Emerald Tablet in a pillar at Hermopolis, the discovery came too late to save Akhenaton’s empire.” Caedmon reached for a macaroon, his first of the evening. “When the heretical pharaoh died, a rebel army led by the ousted temple priests descended on Akhenaton’s capital city of Armana. It fell to Tuthmose to save the royal court from the impending slaughter.”

“Tuthmose and his entourage fled Egypt in the dead of night, their trusty Hebrew slaves in tow. A mass exodus unlike any other in history,” their host said airily, waving his right hand in the air to punctuate the remark. “And the only reason the venture succeeded is because Tuthmose had the Emerald Tablet. An Egyptian grimoire, the inscriptions carved onto the Emerald Tablet enabled Tuthmose to create the Ark of the Covenant, that legendary weapon of mass destruction.”

“Let me guess… ” Edie paused for dramatic effect. “It was right around this time that Tuthmose, the Egyptian magician, changed his name to Moses.”

“And, while he was at it, created a new religion for the Hebrew slaves. As the Old Testament so vividly recounts, the Hebrews were a belligerent lot in dire need of a calming opiate. To that end, Moses wrote the first five books of the Bible, what we Jews call the Torah. In it, Moses spells out the belief system of the new religion. Then, to keep the Hebrew rabble in line, Moses bequeathed to them ten ironclad rules carved onto two stone tablets. And thus Judaism, the religion of my forebears, was born.” With a clap of his hands, Rubin bounced to his feet. “Another round of martinis?”

CHAPTER 52

Standing in a darkened doorway on Cecil Court, Saviour Panos aimed the parabolic dish at the second-story window on the opposite building. A few seconds later, he wrinkled his nose, the aroma of cardamom and turmeric wafting through the air from the Curry House on the next block. Too many vile stenches. First patchouli, now Indian spices. What next? A stray dog taking a crap.

After leaving Marnie Pritchard’s flat, he’d returned to his hotel and retrieved the case containing his surveillance equipment. From there, he’d gone straightaway to Cecil Court on the off chance that the lovebirds might still be awake. To his delight, it sounded as though he would get three for the price of two, able to detect a third voice in his headset. He double-checked the jack on the recording device so he could later replay the conversation for Mercurius.

He’d been sent to London to act as Mercurius’s eyes and ears. A task that he’d undertaken with a glad heart. Willing to do anything for the man who rescued him, protected him, loved him. And who had entrusted him with a great and glorious secret. One that involved a “paradigm shift,” as Mercurius liked to call it. The details of which were too arcane, too elusive, for Saviour to grasp. Having only six years of schooling, he didn’t possess the intellectual breadth to comprehend.

Bored by the conversation taking place in the flat across the way, Saviour slipped a hand inside his jacket and removed a box of cigarettes. Thoth. Akhenaton. Tuthmose. So much silly gibberish. He much preferred eavesdropping on the Brit and his woman when they were going at it. Still a lot of gibberish but more exciting.

Wondering how much longer the droning threesome would continue, he flipped open a silver cigarette lighter, his gaze alighting on the eight-pointed star engraved on one side.

The Creator’s star.

How many times had he seen Mercurius staring at the Creator’s star, transfixed? Too many times to count. Usually in an altered state of mind, so far gone that he was unaware of the sights and sounds of this world.

Saviour revered the Creator’s star because Mercurius revered the Creator’s star.

Exhaling a plume of smoke, he glanced upward, noticing the shimmering crescent moon. Like a curved Arabian knife blade in the night sky.

According to Mercurius, men contemplated the night sky to discern the eternal mystery of the heavens. Better than contemplating the eternal agonies of hell, he supposed. Although, personally, he thought heaven and hell coexisted here on earth. Eternity was merely the instantaneous burst of nothingness, the pitiless void known as death.

As the Brit and his woman would soon discover.