Cædmon wondered at the startling admission. Perhaps the earlier brush with death is causing the three of us to come apart at the seams.
Seams ready to burst, he rapaciously eyed the unopened can. Like McGuire, he didn’t much care for warm beer. A G&T on ice would be better. But this might quell the pang.
He reached for the Kronenbourg.
Only to retreat at the last.
Then, not fully trusting himself, he slid the proffered can back in McGuire’s direction.
‘No, thank you.’ Jaw tight, those three simple words sounded unnaturally clipped. Probably because he’d recently come off a three-day binge. A bender, as the Yanks called them. Usually his drinking bouts lasted no more than a few days. Although the first, after the ‘incident’ in Belfast, extended to a full two weeks. The boys from Thames House found him slumped over a bar in Budapest. According to his passport, he’d been to six different countries in those two weeks. To this day, he had no recollection of that drunken fortnight, although it was his lone act of vengeance in Belfast that angered the powers that be at Thames House more than the drunken spree. In the two years since, he’d paid heavily for the transgression. Seconded to MI6, he’d been made to run a safe house in Paris. A humiliating demotion.
‘You know, I’ve been thinking about it –’ McGuire popped the lid on his can, misting the air with the tang of Strisselspalt hops and a light citrus aroma – ‘and no way in hell can I accept that the Holy Grail is “the stone in exile”. Sister Michael Patrick, a woman whose authority even a smart aleck like me didn’t dare question, taught us that the Grail is the chalice that was used at the Last Supper. And when Jesus was on the cross, that same chalice was used to collect his blood. That’s how it became the Holy Grail.’
Dissertation delivered, the commando raised the can to his lips and drank deeply.
Astonished that the other man had deliberated on the matter, Cædmon countered by saying, ‘Don’t know how “holy” it is. According to Wolfram von Eschenbach’s Parzival, the Lapis Exillis was the stone knocked free from Lucifer’s crown when he was cast from heaven. As you undoubtedly know, Lucifer had originally been God’s favourite until he committed the grave sin of putting himself on a par with the Almighty. A heavenly insurrection ensued, the angelic legions battling for supremacy. In the end, Lucifer was tossed on his arse.’ As he spoke, Cædmon belatedly realized that he shared a common bond with the ousted angel, having taken upon himself the power of life and death. And look where it landed me.
‘Given its ignominious provenance, I’m surprised that the Lapis Exillis would be deemed sacred,’ Kate said, twisting the lid on the water bottle. ‘And Finn raises a valid point: most people believe that the Grail is a chalice.’
Getting up from his chair, Cædmon walked over to the other side of the room and retrieved a water glass from the bedside table. ‘During the Middle Ages, there were three different Grail camps: those who believed the relic was a chalice; those who were convinced that it was a stone; and the peacekeepers who, through a convoluted twisting of both tales, declared that the Grail had been a stone that became a chalice.’ Reseating himself, he handed the glass to Kate. ‘Although what’s not in dispute is the fact that the Grail, whether it be stone or chalice, has miraculous power. And what is power if not energy?’
‘So you’re thinking that the Grail has something to do with the Axe Historique and the Vril force,’ Kate said, quick to catch his drift.
‘Depictions of the Grail often render it shrouded in a brilliant burst of light.’ Vexed, Cædmon shook his head. He had a gut feeling that the Lapis Exillis was connected to the Paris axis, but not a shred of evidence to prove it. ‘Mind you, this is mere speculation, but it could be that the Grail is some sort of transducer that can convert one type of energy into another.’
‘How do the Cathars fit into the Grail story?’ Kate poured herself a glass of water, then, holding the bottle aloft, silently enquired if he cared for some.
‘Difficult to say,’ Cædmon replied, politely shaking his head, water no substitute for alcohol. ‘The Cathars were dualists who believed that there were two gods, not one. The god whom they referred to as Rex Mundi, the king of the world, they associated with Lucifer who ruled the material realm. Conversely, the good god was the Light that illuminated the heavenly sphere. How the Cathars came to be in possession of a uniquely Christian relic is anyone’s guess.’ He paused, well aware that the conversation was about to veer off course. ‘Although it’s abundantly clear from the Latin inscription on the Montségur Medallion that the Cathars were the Grail Guardians.’
‘But I always thought that the Cathars were a Christian sect.’ Kate’s brow furrowed, having jumped to the same erroneous conclusion that most people made.
‘While the Cathars thought of themselves as upright Christians, their rituals did not include the traditional Catholic sacraments. And, of course, there was that heretical business about Jesus being a divinely inspired prophet rather than the divine Son of God.’
One side of McGuire’s mouth quirked in a wry half-grin. ‘Reason enough for Sister Michael Patrick to pull out a box of Diamond matches and light a pyre.’
‘How strange that you should make reference to the Inquisitors’ funeral pyre since I’m about to throw caution aside and leap into the fire. After due deliberation …’ Cædmon paused, on the cusp of a decision that could well change his life. ‘I’ve decided to search for the Grail.’
44
‘Jesus H!’ Finn’s shoulders jack-knifed off the back of the chair. ‘You are off your freakin’ English rocker if you think you can find the Holy Grail!’
‘Thank you for that resounding vote of confidence,’ Aisquith deadpanned, unfazed by the criticism.
‘Finding the Grail is like putting toothpaste back in the tube. It ain’t gonna happen. And didn’t you see the movie? Indiana Jones already beat you to it,’ Finn taunted, beginning to think the Brit needed to be knocked on the head with a 2 x 4. Drastic? Maybe. But he didn’t know what else besides a wood kiss would knock sense into the guy.
‘Do you have any idea what these people are capable of?’ Folding his arms over his chest, Aisquith patronizingly looked down his nose. Like he was the school master and Finn the class dunce.
‘They butchered two good buddies of mine, so, yeah, I think I know what I’m up against.’ Raising the beer can to his lips, Finn polished it off.
‘And before that, they butchered as many as seventeen million innocent people.’
‘Cædmon, have you really thought this through?’ Kate enquired in concern, having remained silent up to this point. Probably in a state of shock. ‘The Seven Research Foundation could easily target you.’
‘If memory serves correctly, they already have.’ He glanced down at the spot on his chest where he’d almost taken a bullet to the heart. ‘Although not to worry. I’m well armed. Fortis est veritas.’
Kate smiled wistfully; the phrase obviously meaning something to her. ‘And just as truth is strength, scientia potentia est.’
‘Knowledge is power,’ Aisquith replied.
‘Hey, excuse me. I didn’t get to go to Awxford. I got my education at Boot Camp U. So, can we all stick to English?’
‘Very well. Here is a fact that requires no translation: the Ahnenerbe was obsessed with finding the Holy Grail. Their descendents seem no less fanatical. While I don’t know the foundation’s reason for coveting the relic, I’m certain that it pertains to the Axe Historique and the creation of the Vril force.’ Doing a fair imitation of a traffic cop, Aisquith held up his right hand. ‘And please spare me the stale refrain about flying saucers and Nazi ray guns.’