“It’s here,” Aurora exulted, her eyes a glaze of greed.
“Wait, there’s something more,” I said. The blade had hairs on it. “Horus?”
He beamed then and pulled from his shirt, where he had tucked it, the dead body of a slain mouse. He had stabbed the little monster to death. By thunder, my son was an Achilles!
“Candy?”
I handed it to him, hands shaking. My boy had the makings of a fine treasure hunter, I realized—the worst curse I could think of.
“Get the Rite,” Aurora told Dragut, “and then ready the ships as Ethan suggested. Thanks to him and his bastard, we’re going to blow this ceiling apart.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The ruins seemed deserted when we approached. Warm wind blew off the mountains to the west, bending the tall grass, and dogs barked from farmyards far below. In the distance we could see lamps from the city and anchored ships, six miles away. Bats flew against the last glow of twilight, and the first stars were faint in the evening haze. I wondered where one would make a secret camp here, when suddenly the ground opened like a mouth.
“This is the old moat, one of three that fronted the fortress,” Dragut said. “There’s a ramp over here.”
We were swallowed as we rode cautiously down, passing through a short tunnel to the bottom of the old Greek excavation. Fires reflected from a tier of arches on the side of the moat, and I realized that my captors’ confederates were waiting here in the fort’s underground chambers, out of sight of any Sicilian peasants above. We stopped, the tails of our horses flicking, and then a hooded man came from one of the caves and grasped Aurora’s bridle.
“Greetings to our Astarte, our Ishtar, our Freya! Lady of moon and womb, the risen eastern star, our dove and our lioness!”
Well, that was a little much.
“Greetings, Dionysus. I bring the Fool, as prophesied. And his pup has indeed played a role, as foretold. All is happening as it should, and soon we’ll begin to inherit the true powers of the ancients.”
I startled at the introduction because a gypsy fortune-teller had once called me the Fool who sought the Fool, the primitive wisdom of Enoch and the long-lost god Thoth. Here the label was again, like that long-ago tarot card.
“May the gods grant us the courage to grasp such power, the will to wield it, and the ruthlessness of true conviction!”
“Isis and Osiris are listening to our prayers even now, Dionysus.” She swung down from her saddle as dozens of other hooded figures crowded the mouths of the fortress tunnels to greet us. Pagans again, and if I tripped over many more of them in these bizarre adventures of mine it would be enough to take holy orders. This bunch was lunatic to a man and woman, I guessed, but none the less dangerous for that.
Dragut took me into the arcadelike tunnel that ran the length of the moat and gave access to caverns behind. Tunnels led deeper into the ancient fortress, and torches flickered back there. In ancient times, I guessed, these passages allowed soldiers to move from one part of the fort to another out of sight or catapult shot. Now they served as a dandy warren for bandit clans like ours. There were at least a hundred of Aurora’s confederates gathered, a few of them Muslim pirates but many more European. These newcomers wore black, gray, and white robes over the more conventional dress of their nations.
Harry clung tight as a limpet. “Who these people, Papa?”
“The local asylum.”
A hundred candles illuminated the grotto with smoky light. Animal-headed gods had been placed in niches, and pentagrams were drawn in the sand. There were muskets, pikes, cutlasses, and axes stacked in corners, and pipes and ram’s horns for music. Great coils of rope were stacked along with kegs of gunpowder and twists of fuse. The cloaks and hoods gave a sinister anonymity to the gathering, as if nobody wanted to be recognized as part of such foolery.
“Where did these people come from, Aurora?”
“You told Osiris in Paris that you were curious about the Egyptian Rite,” she replied. “Here we are, drawn at my summons from the lodges and temples of Europe. This is a rebirth of Templar and Pythagorean wisdom, Ethan, of Babylonian astrology and Cabbalistic mysticism! These men and women are some of the finest minds in Europe, and unlike other scholars we are open to new ideas and experiences. We have dukes and duchesses, savants and theologians, merchants and sea traders, highborn ladies and brilliant courtesans. They are here by merit. We induct tradesmen as readily as aristocrats, if they have proven themselves in the study of hermetic lore and the willingness to undergo ceremonial trials. There are English, French, German, Italian, and Spanish, united by their thirst for knowledge and reform.”
“What kind of reform?”
“The kind that comes from establishing our own rule. We’re a superior order, as far above the common man today as judges among the apes. It is our privilege, and our burden, to reform this planet, and to exterminate as many of the unilluminated as necessary.”
“Unilluminated?”
“Ancient truth is there to be rediscovered, but some turn their back on it or refuse to recognize what must be changed. The obstinate will be disposed of. The Rite will initiate a pure society, where everyone agrees on truth.”
“By eliminating anyone who doesn’t.”
“That’s a basic principle of governing. One achieves harmony by unanimity. There is nothing more chaotic, or inefficient, than people who question their rulers. Doubters by definition are not part of the exalted race. Those commoners who survive will serve as slaves to our priesthood.”
“I see. And am I exalted?”
“That remains to be seen.”
“And you’re going to achieve this consensus by burning all the world’s navies?”
“The world will be better without any navies, except ours.”
“A pirate navy.”
“A navy of entrepreneurs, mystics, and seekers of the light.”
“And what are all these fanatics doing
“They are not fanatics. They are the holiest of the holy, the ones who adhere most faithfully to our cause. They are patriots, Ethan, patriots who want to rediscover the secret powers of the civilization that came before our own, and bring back a lost golden age. We want to walk as the gods walked, with their powers and sensuous freedoms. We will do whatever we wish, with whomever we choose, and our slaves will rejoice that our tyranny is a thousand times sweeter than any liberty in today’s myopic world! When we finish our investigations, we of the Rite are going to be incapable of wrong, and will rule with perfect understanding. We’ll have visions through our opiates, and enlightenment through our ecstasies. We will be gods ourselves, perfect beings! And you can still join us! You and young Horus!”
“And Astiza?” I had to put a brake to Aurora’s fantasies.
Her lips narrowed. “If you still want her, after having seen the light.”
Here it was, then. Bored aristocrats, passed-over scientists, shunned deviants, bankrupt merchants, indebted gamblers, poxed libertines, the eccentric, and the wicked: all had finally found family in this monstrous perversion of Freemasonry founded by the charlatan Cagliostro more than a generation before. This bunch wanted magic and
