Temple of the Grail(85)

‘Of course, I must be a donkey! The twelve and seven, Christian! They must go together, even you knew it.’

He depressed Pisces and held it down while he depressed firstly the sun, then moon, followed by Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter and finally Saturn. There was a metallic sound and the panel began to move as though on a cushion of air, opening into a small antechamber only big enough to accommodate the two of us.

I waited for him to congratulate me on my acumen, but he merely paused before the door of the chamber, sniffing the air with suspicion.

‘We must not forget,’ he said, ‘Brother Samuel died from his carelessness. A sweet musky smell . . . but not a poison, in this case something else . . .’ He searched about with his nose, but seemed satisfied that no deadly poison awaited us, and so stepped inside, though he kept a vigilant eye about him. On the door ahead we illuminated with our lamps a sign inscribed into the wood that my master told me was the necromantic symbol for Saturn. To my right, a water stoup made out of stone dug into my thigh. No doubt it was filled with holy water for the ritual ablution. In this corner I also saw a number of strange long objects, and realised after a moment that they were torches, such as are dipped in mutton fat, and I was about to observe these further when my sandal touched upon something small though soft, and I looked down to see that it was a rat. I uttered a muffled cry, and my master shushed me, saying none too softly:

‘By God, boy, you cannot scare it away, the odious thing is dead!’

‘What killed it, master?’ I asked, thinking that it must be a terrible omen.

‘Perhaps the same thing that killed the old brother,’ he replied thoughtfully.

‘Shall I take one of these torches with us?’

‘No. Touch nothing unless I tell you. These places are places of deception and, as we have seen, murder. Now, to open the door . . .’

He pushed it and it opened with little difficulty, revealing steps that led down into a pit of darkness. Just then I felt a presence behind us and turned expecting to see the hideous form of the Devil, instead it was Eisik, carrying a lamp of his own.

‘Thy word is a lantern unto my feet: and a light unto my paths,’ he said.

‘For the love of all the saints, what happened to you?’ my master whispered, taking Eisik’s lantern.

‘There are guards everywhere, Andre,’ he said, hunching his shoulders in expectation of further evils. ‘I had to use the cunning of my forefathers. I told the assistant cook I needed a lamp so that I might read the Talmud, and that I would say a prayer that he be spared by the inquisitor if he would be so kind as to oblige. But I will tell you, Andre, I am only here because you have asked me, and because I do not wish to outlive you! Something tells me that this is foolish and yet,’ he sighed, ‘it is the destiny of an old Jew that no man will listen to him, though if he did he would doubtless live longer.’

So it was that cautiously we embarked on our journey into the unknown, down a long, and seemingly endless, flight of steps, leaving the panel in the first antechamber slightly ajar, as a precaution. The steps were damp, and spaced unevenly; some were broken, some worn smooth, and it was only by a small margin that I managed to maintain my balance. After what seemed an eternity we secured solid earth beneath our feet, but this was only a temporary comfort, for we would soon enter an exceedingly narrow passage that angled obliquely to our right. I made a calculation that this must bear north-east because the steps that led us to our present position were in a westerly direction, as the panel had been on the western side of the transept. This passage, being many feet below ground, smelt ancient and putrefied, and was so narrow that, if I diverged even slightly, I could touch the damp walls on either side with my shoulders. The light from our lamps played on the surface of rock and I thought I could see the faces of numerous devils on the crevices and forms created by different mineral substances.

I trembled.

Why must there be tunnels? Why also curious masters?

At last we entered through an arch and found that we were inside an antechamber. Its three doors were set at the oddest angles, somehow giving one the impression of having suddenly changed direction. I knew that it must be a clever trick. To add to this phenomenon the chamber was also diminutive and that meant that we had to stand very close at its centre, our breaths puffing out in unison in the still, dank air. We raised our lamps to inspect the walls, and noticed that above the doors – that no doubt led to other tunnels – there were torches such as I had seen on the floor of the first chamber, but these were not lit. Our lamps, however, were adequate in illuminating a number of strange signs carved into the rock above the doors. Directly ahead, the heavy angular aperture had above it the sign of the crescent moon, as well as the word ‘Pergamos’. To our right, my master elucidated the necromantic sign for Mars and the word ‘Thyatira’. On our left another crescent moon, and again the word ‘Pergamos’, and behind us ‘Ephesus’, and the sign for Saturn.