The Book of Love (46 page)

Conn was leaving her to begin the next phase of his destiny, and to realize his ultimate dream. He was returning to Chartres and taking the Master with him. Together, they would bring the Libro Rosso to a place of ultimate protection, where it would be safely out of Henry’s destructive reach once and for all.

In honor of the Lucchesi traditions that surrounded the
Volto Santo
, a cart was constructed to transport the Libro Rosso in exactly the same way that the Holy Face had once been pulled across Italy. Matilda provided two snow white oxen to drive the cart on which the Ark of the
New Covenant would be carried to its new home. These travelers would have to be very careful crossing through the war-ravaged region of northern Italy with their precious cargo. The ark was encased in a simple wooden covering so the gilded and jeweled majesty of the true container would be obscured. A false bottom was installed in the cart to hide the Libro Rosso, and another “relic” was devised to be stored in the ark. An artist created a rendition of Veronica’s veil, made to appear as an impression of the face of Christ on a silken white cloth. It was a spiritual pun of sorts for the Order, as the face imprinted on Veronica’s veil was sometimes referred to as the
Volto Santo,
as was their sacred treasure in Lucca. This manufactured relic was placed within the ark as a safety measure: if they were stopped by German troops, they would tell the story of this holy veil and how they were carrying it out of Italy and into France for its protection in the abbey of Cluny. For all their barbaric violence in this war, it was unlikely that any German soldier was going to accost monks who were carrying such a holy relic. Besides, they were leaving Italy, not entering it.

Finally, in order for Conn to appear utterly convincing as a monk, he shaved his head. When Matilda saw him for the first time, she burst into tears.

“Oh God, you really are leaving me.” She threw herself into his arms and cried like a child. Conn hugged her and stroked her hair, singing to her in his Celtic language for the final time.

“I am only leaving you temporarily.
Le temps revient,
little sister. You know that the families of spirit are never truly separated. I will see you soon, wherever God decrees.” He pulled away from her and cupped her chin with his huge hand. “You will be well cared for. Arduino is a better strategist than I have ever been, the best military leader in Italy. If anyone can help you reclaim your lands from Henry, it is Arduino. And you have a new watchdog, don’t you? One who will protect you fearlessly.”

He was referring to Ugo Manfredi, the maimed husband of Matilda’s murdered cousin. Through his rehabilitation, Ugo had spent time with Conn. While he had lived most of his life as a farmer, that work
had also made him strong and hearty. And he was clever. The combination would turn him into an effective warrior, the kind who was utterly without fear as he had nothing whatsoever left to lose. Once recovered, Ugo became a physical force to be reckoned with, and that force was fiercely devoted to the Tuscan countess who had applied the healing unguents to his eye socket with her own hands.

Matilda did not begrudge Conn this mission. Far from it, she was grateful that the Libro Rosso and the Master would have the most effective protection in Europe. She handed Conn a little bundle as a final gift. “Take her with you. She has been with me since I was born and I have always felt that she watched over me. Now she will watch over the two of you.”

Conn pulled away the cloth that covered the faded but still exquisitely beautiful little statue of Saint Modesta. His eyes welled as he whispered, “Modesta. We are both going home.”

Matilda grasped his free hand in hers and began the sacred recitation that is applicable to love in all its guises, a sacrament that he knew as well as she.

They choked through it together for their final time in this life, through their tears.

Vatican City
present day

M
aureen walked into Saint Peter’s with a different purpose now, and that was to pay her respects to the woman she had come here originally to meet and now felt that she knew intimately—the miraculous, inspiring, and completely larger-than-life Tuscan countess, Matilda of Canossa.

The complete version of Matilda’s autobiography ended with the departure of Conn and the Master for Chartres. It was as if Matilda lost interest in the details of her life after that. Gregory was dead, and her spiritual adviser and best friend had left her for France. Anselmo had also passed away, and Isobel was running the Order in Lucca. Matilda carried on and continued to fight against Henry and for Tuscany, and most of all to secure the throne of Saint Peter against secular influence. She did all these things because she had made a promise to do so: a promise to God, to herself, and to her people. And she would never rest until that promise was kept.

There were more pages in Matilda’s autobiography, but these were akin to basic diary entries that marked major events of significance. One that stood out for Peter said, “Letter from Patricio, who is leaving Orval and going to Chartres.” It did not indicate why Patricio was
abandoning his cherished Orval, but Matilda would have been struggling to hold on to her territories in Lorraine, and it was likely a dangerous place to be her ally during the wars.

Peter was driven to do the research into Matilda’s later life, so that he could bring closure to the story for Maureen, who had become obsessed with the Tuscan countess. Maureen was desperate to know if Matilda ever saw any real justice where Henry IV was concerned, and Peter was very happy to tell her that she did. It took many years, but Matilda eventually won the war for Tuscany and against Henry. Henry’s wife and his own son even defected to Matilda’s camp eventually, seeking refuge in Tuscany from the tyrannical Henry, who had physically abused his wife with such violence that she sought legal action against him. Historical documents indicated that Queen Adelaide, a former Russian princess, begged Matilda for asylum as she recounted horrors of Henry’s sexual proclivities, including orgies and black masses.

Maureen was struck by this amazing aspect of Matilda’s story. She was an icon of women’s rights, hundreds of years before such a term was ever popularly understood. Matilda was possibly the first woman to demand a prenuptial agreement, just as she was the first woman to shelter victims of domestic violence and protect them from the perpetrators—even when the abuser was a king.

Slowly and carefully, with the strategy of a master chess player, Matilda rebuilt Tuscany. Her political strength and her wealth returned gradually, and when it did, she went after Henry’s strongholds in Italy. In the autumn of 1092, while wearing her now legendary copper armor, Matilda led an army against Henry’s troops who had held the region surrounding Canossa for far too long. It was, by all historical accounts, an example of military strategy at its most ingenious. Matilda, with Ugo Manfredi and Arduino della Paluda at her side, routed the Germans. With their base of operations recovered, the Tuscan armies eliminated the German presence from the majority of Matilda’s territories over the course of the next three years, and she reigned un-opposed for the remainder of her long life.

With Matilda’s return to political power, she supported the cause of a new pope who was committed to Gregory’s memory and their shared determination to separate the papacy from the influence of secular power. He was a fierce defender of Rome’s independence and a staunch opponent of royal interference in spiritual matters. Matilda maintained a close relationship with this new pope, Paschal II, for the remainder of her life.

Paschal. The similarity between this pope’s name and her own were most certainly not lost on Maureen. The connections within this story were never-ending.

Maureen approached the marble tomb with a new awareness. The magnificent woman depicted here held the papal tiara and the keys to the Church because she had lived here and ruled here with her own beloved. Together they were the manifestation of Solomon and Sheba in their time, and perhaps even a reflection of Jesus and Magdalene, El and Asherah. They were the embodiment of their own holy concept: the time returns.

And Bernini, the great Baroque master who inherited the designs for Saint Peter’s from Matilda’s descendant, Michelangelo, knew it. He created a powerful and elegant design that would preserve the truth in marble, for those with eyes to see.

Art will save the world.

Running her hand along the cold marble, designed by an artist who knew more than he was telling, Maureen examined the depiction of a scene from Matilda’s life that graced the facing of the tomb. It would not have meant anything to her before. Here was the event in Canossa, with Henry on his knees, begging forgiveness. Pope Gregory VII held central focus on his throne. Matilda, of course, stood beside him as she had literally and figuratively throughout their eventful years together.

Matilda’s story inspired Maureen more than any other she had ever investigated, with the possible exception of that of their shared ancestress, Mary Magdalene. Matilda, with her unprecedented commitment to equality for all men and women under God, her passion for charity and for improving the lot of the poor, had contributed to the demise of
the Dark Ages by allowing in a new era of light. She was, in many respects, the first modern woman.

Most of all, Matilda kept her promises. She never stopped fighting for the reforms Gregory had attempted to implement. A thousand years later, reforms put into place by Gregory VII, with Matilda by his side, were considered critical to the foundations of the established Church.

Matilda dedicated her life to the people of Tuscany and their prosperity, and she built and restored centers of spiritual learning all over Italy, while managing to get her sweet bishop Anselmo canonized and remembered by posterity as a saint. She designed bridges and buildings and beautified existing structures with artworks: paintings, mosaics, and sculptures, thus becoming the first official patron of the arts in Tuscany. She would be the forerunner of the great artistic patrons of the late Middle Ages and the Renaissance who nurtured and supported artists. Matilda insisted that her artists and sculptors sign their works when such a thing was unheard of, because she believed that posterity should remember the names of those who created such beauty.

As a gift to her beloved Lucca, she designed and financed a magnificent bridge across the Serchio that would facilitate both trade and travel for the people. She called the bridge Ponte della Magdalena, Magdalene’s Bridge, and it was a feat of art and engineering worthy of the great Lady’s name and legacy. The bridge was constructed of semicircles that seemed to rise out of the river. When viewed from a distance, the shapes reflected in the water create geometrically perfect circles. In their reflection, the circles were whole.

And Matilda of Canossa remained committed to the teaching of the Way of Love throughout her extraordinary reign. She implemented equality and tolerance among her own people at a time in history when there were no words for such concepts. She was a most unique woman with an epic life and legacy.

She was, quite simply, Matilda. By the Grace of God Who Is.

When Adam, the first man, lay dying, he begged for the archangel Michael to visit him upon his deathbed. Micha-el, the angel whose name means One Who Is Like God, came to Adam and offered to grant him his last request. Adam asked that a seed be given to him from the Tree of Life, the symbol of Holy Mother Asherah, that he might possess all her wisdom and know the answers to life’s mysteries on earth before he left this place, and that perhaps—just perhaps—the life-giving properties of her great divinity might save him.

Michael granted this wish and placed the requested seed directly into Adam’s mouth. But upon ingesting it, the first man drew his last breath. Rather than saving him, the Tree of Life brought about his demise. There was too much knowledge to be contained within one man. Adam was buried, and the following spring a sapling burst forth from the seed in his mouth, splitting the earth and growing into a new and mighty tree. It flourished for many centuries, before it was cut down with an axe by ignorant men who did not believe in its powers or its sanctity. The wood from the sacred tree was used to build a bridge that would cross the waters and lead to Jerusalem.

When Makeda, the Queen of Sheba, first came to Solomon on her long trek from Sabea, she crossed this bridge on the final day of her journey. It is said that in her grace she recognized immediately that this bridge was built of a special wood. The wood cried out to her and told her it had once flourished as the Tree of Life, before men without wisdom destroyed it. The beauty of Asherah, once a living and vital element on earth, had been hacked to pieces by the ignorant.

The Queen of Sheba fell to the ground in awe and worshipped the wood, realizing as she did so that she had been given a divine gift. But her sadness at this great loss tore at her heart, and she wept. As her tears struck the wood, the wisdom which had been trampled upon for so long was released to her and she was further bestowed with a vision from God. Makeda was shown that a new order, a new covenant, and a new messiah would come forth from the line of David and Solomon to change the world. Sadly, she also saw tragedy in the vision. This messiah of light would be killed for his beautiful beliefs, killed by the very same wood upon which she now knelt.

During her time of communion with King Solomon, the Queen of Sheba told
him of this experience. Solomon was alarmed by the vision and believed that it had been given to her so that they could take precautions to save this descendant of prophecy. He ordered the bridge destroyed, and the wood buried outside Jerusalem. In his faith and wisdom, Solomon hoped that by his returning the wood to the earth, the Tree of Life might flourish once again. If this could not happen, then perhaps he would eliminate the possibility of its use in the destruction of this forthcoming holy man. This was done, and the wood remained underground for fourteen generations.

During the reign of Pontius Pilate, the wood was discovered by chance when a battalion of Roman soldiers were digging mass graves for Jewish insurgents. They brought the wood to Jerusalem, where it was used to create the beams of the cross upon which our Lord met his divine fate atop the hill of Golgotha.

A man’s destiny cannot be denied when it is written in the stars.

It is further said that the place where Solomon and Sheba had their first fated meeting would become the exact location of the Holy Sepulcher. It would seem that there are areas of the earth that have their own destiny, chosen by God as places of power.

For those with ears to hear, let them hear it.

T
HE LEGEND OF THE
T
RUE
C
ROSS, PART ONE
AS PRESERVED IN THE
L
IBRO
R
OSSO

Rome
present day

B
ÉRENGER AND
M
AUREEN
strolled toward the Piazza della Rotonda, hand in hand, on their way back to the hotel. The Pantheon gleamed under the spotlights, and the fountain gurgled, all in harmony with the bustle that occurred every evening in this ancient plaza. Vendors sold flying toys and cheap souvenirs to tourists who weren’t already jaded from paying too much for mediocre pasta at the cafés perched on prime real estate. Maureen had learned quickly that to walk a few paces away from the grand spaces in Rome was to find far more ap
pealing cuisine at prices that didn’t include rent for such a historic view. Tonight they had dined in the quiet nearby piazza dedicated to Mary Magdalene, where a beautiful portrait of their Lady was preserved in a large, cameo-shaped frame at one corner of the square.

Maureen and Bérenger skirted the bustling piazza, as alive on a late spring night as the Trocadero in Paris or Times Square in New York City. As they entered the sanctuary of the hotel lobby, the night porter recognized Maureen and signaled to her.

“There was a package left here for you. One moment.”

He scurried to a back room and emerged with a container the size of a shoe box, wrapped in brown paper. The plain package made Bérenger immediately suspicious.

“Did you see who left this package?”

“A courier. From a local service. I had to sign for it.”

Maureen thanked him and took the package. She briefly hoped that the package might at least contain her missing notebooks; it was too small to hold her computer. As they waited for the elevator, the pair of them inspected it. In the upper left corner, handwritten in a scrawl on the brown paper, was a single word:
DESTINO
.

“Bloody hell, who is this guy?” Bérenger growled his irritation. The mystery was getting to him, although he wasn’t inclined to let Maureen know just how disturbed he was. He was a man used to being in charge at all times, and he was beginning to chafe at a game where he was not in control of the players, or the rules.

“He knows too much about our comings and goings; he knows your history. He knows something about me, clearly. And…”

“And he knows what I dream about. How is that possible?”

They placed the box on the bed and sat on either side of it, opening it together. As she removed the brown paper on her side of the box, Maureen cried out.

“Ouch!”

It was simply a paper cut, albeit a particularly vicious one that ran across the inside of her middle finger and began to bleed. And it hurt disproportionately, as paper cuts are wont to do. She got up to wash
her hands and held a towel around the offended finger for a moment until the bleeding stopped. Then she returned to Bérenger to finish unwrapping the parcel. He first kissed her wounded finger gently and inspected it to be sure it wasn’t too deep.