'My dear friend,' said Gregor, 'language is the wrong word. It is an interpretation of a symbol written in a codex that has no words. Would you speak mathematical symbols? Or musical ones? This is not a translation, it is an interpretation, but given what you have told me…'
I looked at Blackbird.
'You said they were symbols of opening,' she said to Gregor.
'Indeed,' said Gregor, 'and interesting for that alone. The sceptre is the symbol for the opening of the mind, the key is for revealing secrets. The feather is a symbol of opening of the heart, while the cross is an opening of the spirit.'
'The cross is a Christian symbol,' I pointed out.
'The cross was adopted by Christianity because of the crucifixion, party because of this connotation, but this predates Christian symbology,' said Gregor.
'It's a symbol of a cross,' pointed out Blackbird. 'Rather than a representation. They're not going to be crucifying anyone.' Then she looked at Gregor. 'Are they?'
'Unlikely. As you say, it is symbolic. The arrow will not be shot by a bow, the scourge will not be used to whip anyone. They are tokens.'
'What do they mean?' I asked.
'The scourge is symbolic of self-flagellation like the monks of old, and symbolises opening the body, while the arrow is symbolic of opening distance, or space. All together they are a powerful configuration of opening and would represent a key of significant power.'
'Like the key that was stolen?' I asked.
'What key?' asked Julian. He was ignored by all of us.
'No,' said Gregor. 'That key is only a component of a larger key comprising all the components, which would be used to open something else.'
'What?' said Blackbird.
Gregor smiled apologetically. 'I can't tell you that. The four lobes of this central symbol indicate something, but it is not part of the symbology around it.' He indicated the central symbol which expended in four rounded lobes from a central point.
'Then we are no better off,' I said.
'Oh, we are,' said Gregor, 'because while I can't tell you what, I can tell you where.'
'You can?' said Blackbird.
'Oh yes.' Gregor grinned. 'Show them Julian.'
Julian turned the pages to reveal an engraving of a church.
'There,' said Gregor.
'Where is it?' said Blackbird.
'It is a church in Herefordshire.'
'A church,' I said. 'Then it is connected with Christianity.'
'Not everything done in the name of the church is religious. They had immense wealth and significant power. The nature of this could as easily be secular as sacred,' Gregor pointed out. 'This was built by the Normans in the twelfth century, along with adjacent fortifications. It predates Crowley and the Hermetic Order by several centuries.'
I looked at Blackbird. She was obviously thinking the same thing. If this was twelfth century and post Norman invasion then it would have been from around the same time as the Quit Rents Ceremony.
'Very well,' said Blackbird. 'Where is it?'
'I will come with you, of course,' Gregor said.
Blackbird and I looked at each other. If we went without Gregor we could use the Ways and be there in minutes. If we went with Gregor it would take much longer.
'What?' he said. 'I am as curious about this as you. Do I not deserve to share the discovery? Have I not given you the vital clue to unlocking the mystery?'
'It's not as simple as…' said Blackbird.
'Simple? This is simple. He closed the book in Julian's hands and wrapped it back into the black cover, giving it back to Julian. 'Replace this copy in your vault, my friend. There is one fewer now, so this one is even more precious. Do not let it stray.'
We watched as Julian replaced the book in his drawer and locked it.
Gregor broke into a huge grin. 'Now, when are we setting off?'
EIGHTEEN
'You know what you have to do?' said Eve.
Alex stared at the ground, sullen and unresponsive.
Eve folded her arms. 'How long are you going to carry on sulking? It was just a ring, for God's sake. It wasn't even pure silver.'
'I'm not sulking,' said Alex.
'Well you could have fooled me,' said Eve. 'This is your chance. This is your opportunity to make your mark, and what are you doing? Staring at your shoes. I swear I've never met anyone so self-centred. It's not the end of the world, Alex.'
There was something in that sentence that made Alex look up. What had Eve given up to do this? She never talked about her background or where she'd been before Porton Down. Maybe she did understand what it was like to lose everything.
Eve watched Alex intensely, willing her to get herself together.
Alex sighed. 'The ring was the only thing I had left.'
'In that case, you're well rid of it. We don't need their gifts, their ties, their tokens. They bind us to an emotional attachment that's only there to perpetuate their control, and we don't want to be controlled. We won't be told where to go and how to live, not anymore. We're free of all that, understand?'
Alex lifted her chin but didn't say anything. Eve smiled and put her hands on her shoulders, shaking them gently back and forth.
'You can do this, and when it's finished you'll have done as much as any of us. You'll be part of it.'
Alex's lips twitched in what might have been the echo of a smile.
'OK. Just look like you ought to be there. Use your glamour and no one will question your presence. Take the rod and come straight back out. It's a doddle,' Eve said.
Alex looked across the open square to the Houses of Parliament. There were armed police and camera's all over the square, but she knew none of them would see her. 'OK.' She walked away, glancing back to where Eve waited only to find she'd already vanished.
She reached the road and merged with a group that was crossing. Her glamour gave her a smart skirt suit, low heels, minimal make-up. The tattoos were hidden and her hair was a mousey brown in an unfashionable style that would draw no one's eye. She carried a bag that was half handbag and half briefcase. Eve had said they would expect her to carry something, and she'd put some of Eve's less valuable books in there so it would have the right weight and heft.
The plan was simple. The office of the Gentleman Usher of the Black Rod was at the south end of the palace of Westminster, as he was nominally in charge of security in The Lords, though the police did the actual work.
All she had to do was walk in with someone and slipstream into the building. People were closely scrutinised on the way in, just in case they were carrying a bomb or a weapon, but on the way out they were only watched as they left. The rod was half Alex's height and would normally be difficult to conceal, but with glamour that wouldn't be a problem. She could just walk out with it and no one would be the wiser.
Alex lingered near the external security gate until someone came along that looked as though they were entering. She selected a man with grey hair and grey suit, a civil servant maybe. Adjusting her glamour so that she was noticeable but unremarkable, she let herself be pulled along in his wake. Everyone assumed she was with the bloke she followed, though he never knew she was there. She smiled at the police as she walked through the
