The Sixth Key(36)

‘Le Serpent Rouge?’ The brow wrinkled and he puffed on the pipe vigorously. He was on the scent. ‘Where did your publisher hear about it?’

‘From a source in Paris.’

‘Interesting . . .’

‘Have you heard of it, Deodat?’

‘Yes, but only as an alchemical substance – red mercuric oxide, which the Egyptians called Red Serpent. I’ve never heard of a book by that name.’

Rahn realised he would have to tell Deodat a little more, so he fished in the pocket of his jacket for Monti’s notebook, opened it to the page in question, and handed it to Deodat.

Deodat peered at it through his thick lenses. ‘What’s this?’ he said, looking up over their rim.

‘It belonged to a man called George Monti.’

‘George Monti?’

Rahn was surprised. ‘Do you know him?’

‘Yes, he’s a rather shady fellow. He’s dead now, I believe.’

‘Apparently he came to Languedoc before he died in search of the grimoire. The notebook was found afterwards and for the most part it’s completely dull, the usual sort of thing you’d find, until one looks in the back.’

Deodat took it, pushed back his reading glasses and read it out to himself picking out the important points, ‘Magic ceremonial . . . known as Le Serpent Rouge . . . the last key still missing . . . Otto Rahn, Crusade Against the Grail, page 93 – a skeleton key . . . Abbé knows.’

Without another word, he got up. Rahn followed him to his library, which was dominated by a great table covered in marginalia. Deodat talked animatedly to himself as he perused his impressive collection. ‘Damn that woman! Her idea of order infuriates me. I know it’s here somewhere. Ah! Joy! Here it is, a translation of Magic Ceremonial . . . let me see . . .’ He found the book and flicked its pages. ‘I think that note in your notebook is a reference taken from a footnote in this book. Here it is, in the part entitled The Grimoire of Pope Honorius . . .’ He lapsed into thought and remained that way for quite some time, turning from one page to another. Rahn took one of the chairs grouped around the vast table and sat down.

After an interminable time Deodat spoke. ‘I understand it.’

‘What?’

‘It seems, dear Rahn, that there are two grimoires of Honorius. The first is written by a Theban called Honorius and the second by a pope, Pope Honorius III to be exact. It’s the latter that is known as Le Serpent Rouge.’

‘You surprise me!’ Rahn said. ‘Two authors by the same name who both wrote grimoires, and to top it off one of them a pope, no less. How do you come to that conclusion?’

‘I can’t claim that it’s due to any special sagacity, dear boy! It is all right here, in this book. Now, the first grimoire ever written was King Solomon’s Keys, as you know, and every other grimoire seems to have been extrapolated from it. The Theban magician Honorius wrote his book a long time ago – no one knows exactly when. Apparently a number of magicians put the Theban in charge of compiling a grand grimoire of magic, containing all their keys, signs, symbols and seals, along with all the invocations, convocations and conjurations of their art. It looks like they were afraid that Rome was about to destroy all their books in order to keep control over the tenets of magic.’

‘Rome?’

‘The Roman Catholics, of course! It stands to reason, dear Rahn. Why do you think there are so many banned books in the Vatican archives? Why were so many witches strapped to pyres, not to mention the Templars and Cathars? The Roman caesars, starting with Augustus, took for themselves the title of high priest of all the mysteries, Pontifex Maximus. Later, the Catholic popes appropriated the title and that is why they are known as pontiffs – the bridge between Heaven and Earth. Now let me see here . . . The Theban was charged to make three books. The rules were that the books could only be passed on to males who were Christian and whose character had been confirmed for at least a year. These men were then sworn to keep the contents of the book a secret, and to protect the other initiates who possessed a copy of the book. If no person could be found worthy of the book then the owner, before dying, had to bury it in a hidden place, or ensure that it was placed in the coffin with him. These oaths, dear Rahn, are what led to the book being known as the Sworn Book.’

‘So, how does this Theban’s book connect to the pope’s book, apart from the fact that they shared the same name, which in itself is odd?’ Rahn asked.

‘Edward Waite says here that the Grimoire of Pope Honorius is really nothing more than a distortion of the Theban’s book. It may be that at some stage a copy of the book fell into the hands of a pope, and was passed down thereafter from pope to pope until hundreds of years later a certain pope called himself Honorius III, broke the oath and mixed those secrets of the Theban magician with Roman Catholic rituals, thereby creating a new grimoire, which he named The Grimoire of Pope Honorius III.’