

# The Cathedral of Truth

## Peter Higgins

This book is dedicated to M Z,

A friend who introduced me to

The reality of the Ten Lost Tribes.

The sedentary life is the very sin against the Holy Spirit.

Only thoughts reached by walking have value.

\- Friedrich Nietzsche

A slave is he who cannot speak his thought.

\- Euripides

### Table of Contents

The Family of the Bible

Notes about the Abramic Line

FIRST PART

1. Concerning the famous Hellmantle's position, character and way of life

2. Concerning the ingenious man's visit with his uncle Jack Grosseteste

3. Which relates to how Hellmantle is given his first adventure

4. About what happened to our adventurer when he goes to the Philippines

5. In which the story of our crusader's journey begins in earnest

6. About Hellmantle's time in the city of sin on Christmas Eve

7. About the brave Hellmantle's success on his adventure to Baguio City worthy of happy memory

SECOND PART

8. In which the courageous Hellmantle of Normandy journeys north into the Cordillera Mountain Range

9. About what happened to Hellmantle in the mission in the mountains and the crucifixion of Jesus

10. Concerning Hellmantle of Normandy in the land of the headhunters

11. About the required riding techniques to reach the destination of Sagada and the church organist

12. In which the German artist is tracked to the Shamrock Café and dangers of the northeast of Luzon Island

13. In which Catharine is tracked to the Shamrock Café and an eerie coincidence of a reoccurring dream

14. About Hellmantle reaching the rice terraces and finding a way to the northwest

15. About what happened to our intrepid philosopher in the middle of the Sierra Madre Mountains

16. In which a record is given about the brave Hellmantle through uncharted territory on his trusted dirt bike

17. Which relates to Hellmantle of Normandy reaching the northern coast and the rubble of Aparri

18. About the final day of the motorcycle journey and discussing the Ten Lost Tribes of Israel in Vigan

19. About the sermon in Agoo Basilica and what they find at the church with the rouge bell tower

20. Concerning the Dutch Padre and what he knows about the hidden map

21. About the return to Manila and the coup that causes the Great Man from Normandy grief

THIRD PART

22. Which brings Hellmantle of Normandy back to Hong Kong to re-evaluate the next step in his quest for truth

23. In which their journey is related to Jack Grosseteste and a new task is set before the Man from Normandy

24. Concerning the journey to northern Vietnam to track down the map hidden at a French prison

25. About how Hellmantle and D'Aqs compare notes on their task at hand in Hanoi

26. In which an account is given of the beginning of the journey of Hellmantle in Vietnam

27. About how Hellmantle and his brave squire ride north to the place where the four rivers meet

28. Concerning the French prison and what Hellmantle finds there

29. Concerning the discovery of the bottle and what lies inside of it

30. Concerning the journey to Dien Bien Phu in honor of their grandfather the Great Dane Hellmantle

31. About what the motorcyclists see on the fields in Dien Bien Phu

32. Concerning the motorcycling required to reach Hanoi via the other side of the Da River Valley

33. Which tells of the final stage back to Hanoi and the discussion after their most beautiful ride

FOURTH PART

34. Concerning the visit with the knowledgeable Jack Grosseteste and the sally to India

35. Concerning the arrival and journey to Kashmir Valley

36. In which the journey begins in earnest through the checkpoints to the foot of the Moghul Fort

37. In which Srinagar is reached and how the houseboat was as it was hundred years ago

38. In which Hellmantle reach their houseboat on the lake below the fort and beside the mosque

39. In which Hellmantle sets out for the Tomb of Thome and his brother Joshua beside him

40. Which relates to the agreeable history of the journey north to the monastery on horseback

41. In which Hellmantle returns to Srinagar and finds the first translations of the black stones

42. Which concerns the deciphering of the discovery at the monastery and the need to go to the Ganges River

43. About Hellmantle of Normandy's meeting with the holy man after taking a dip in the Ganges River

44. About Hellmantle's meeting at Jack Grosseteste's place with D'Aqs and Catharine the artist from Sagada

About the Author

Other Titles by the Author

Connect

•The Hall of Fame of Catholic Atrocities over Two Millennia

•Chronology of Historical Events According to Hellmantle

•Index

•Endnotes

**NOTE** : All information in this work is non-fiction except the secret society of the Blond Acquitaine.

### The Family of the Bible

Please see the endnote at the end of the book for more illumination into the above family tree, but be assured it is all explained during the course of Hellmantle's adventure.

### FIRST PART

Ω

# Chapter 1

## Concerning the famous Hellmantle's position, character and way of life

## Lamma Island, Hong Kong, China, November 2001

ﭏ

Extremism in all its forms can always be justified by a partial mind. In Hong Kong, recently designated as _Special Administrative Region_ of the People's Republic of China, lived an unusual man, non-conformist and rebel against mainstream dogma, an expatriate motorcyclist who loved history books and maps. Preferring movement to stagnation and curiosity to indifference, blind spots and lack of gumption were the scourge of humanity, to him an indolence offending his philosophical nature. Phoniness was the bane of man and ultimate embodiment of deception born from lies, _a dishonesty of self_ -founded on shifting sands on an unstable underpinning. He believed one should have fidelity to principles, create their own morality discovered through truth and live by a code that embodied nobility and daring. This was Roland Hellmantle of Normandy.

There is some dispute among scholars, and authors of past works written on the subject, that his original surname was _Redmantel_ but had been changed to _Hellmantel_ , but the spelling changed to _Hellmantle_ due to his Norman roots. Suffice to say these events are recorded with objectivity and no trace of hyperbole or subjective license. This is Hellmantle's story.

He lived on a mountainside above the shores of Aberdeen Channel where the sprawl of Hong Kong Island could be seen from his balcony. In his forties, wrinkled around the eyes, his face bespoke character one might say, lines showing experience and hardship from his inclination for adventure, enough to garner respect but shy to be seen as marks of a sage. Something about his mouth was out of place, a stiffness perhaps or crookedness hidden by a drooping moustache and beard. When not writing for a magazine, Hellmantle spent hours reading history in cafés or hunkered down on Lamma Island, seldom leaving his hideout on the cliff overlooking shipping lanes to the world's busiest port. Religious history mainly, areas that touched on his family history, such as the Holy Grail, the Crusades and the life of Jesus. His interest in these subjects snowballed the deeper he went. Recent discoveries had come to light, such as the Dead Sea Scrolls and the Nag Hamadi Scrolls, which included The Gospel of Thomas, which threw Hellmantle into a fever during the summer months. The twelve disciples came alive as the entourage of Jesus the Nazarene, and His original message revealed new information after finding a code, bringing a hidden history to light of events that happened two thousand years ago. His magazine work suffered so he was hired as a freelance writer, the company realizing that it was cheaper. With more free time he read more, his house soon covered with books. His mind grasped new insights, his imagination fueled, and compounded by his anomalous psychological apparatus. Hellmantle's mind was infected by Aspergers Syndrome, skewered, physiologically tweaked which made him semi-autistic, giving him a sharp, high-functioning mind but blinded him to emotions expressed by others but that left him free to embrace ideas on a high level and without fear to pursue his inclinations to extremes.

Once he engaged an interest his Aspergers Syndrome enabled him to engineer his life so that he could dedicate himself to the pursuit without empathy of others, often leading him to dangerous and reckless behavior.

Our story begins with a telephone call from his uncle in Kowloon asking him to dinner. Hellmantle envisioned a grand adventure, sensing his time had come to put his vast knowledge into play, a door opening that would lead him to greatness he always knew he was destined for. His uncle Jack Grosseteste, notorious in his own ways for his fervent interest in the family history of the Hellmantle clan, was a professor of economics but spent his time researching the more esoteric aspects of religious history, staunchly opposed to the interfering hand of Rome, abreast of the prophecies and legends and hidden knowledge of secret societies. From his research Hellmantle had become convinced evidence existed that proved the stories and dogma taught by schoolteachers and priests weren't entirely accurate so that he had made it his personal mission to right this wrong through industry and employing courage to take the step that would lead to a new understanding of the true message of Jesus and the unrecorded events that Rome had suppressed to protect its power over centuries. And to undertake such a mission, he would use all his resources and acumen to set the record straight.

The day came to go to the uncle's for dinner, so he readied his motorcycle kit, taking care to be prepared for any eventuality. The gloves with holes in the fingers had proven effective when riding the mountains of Taiwan years ago, as had his waterproof riding boots during forays into the jungles of Cambodia during the rainy season. His eyepiece scratched but not enough to mar the visual aspect, and helmet like those worn in hockey, a toy unable to protect against head injury, were chosen for their comfort over effectiveness for he insisted on comfort over infringement of his ride. The _hat_ as he called it, epitomized Hellmantle's motorcycle kit, light but enough to avoid ticketing or infractions against his insurance. Boots or Birkenstocks, hat or not hat, non-scratchy scarf and thick leather motorcycle jacket well-worn from countless miles of riding, were all selected based on how it enhanced the motorcycle experience. Even his Yamaha FZRR400 motorcycle was extreme, chipped and scraped and engineered for the racetrack, a rocket illegal for the roads of Hong Kong, a vehicle he loved like a man loves his horse. It was common for Aspergers sufferers to give a disproportionate amount of love to inanimate object and Hellmantle was no different. His iron horse was named _Sir Thighpiece_ after Don Quixote's horse, caring for the bike by locking it with three kryptonite locks for added protection so he could sleep at night knowing his loyal servant was safe from theft. Every time he looked at _Sir Thighpiece_ a deep love welled-up in his breast as if there was a great debt owed by him for services rendered.

Once ready to visit his uncle Jack Grosseteste, he spoke thus:

" _Perceval, thou hast conquered and art healed. Enter this ship and go wheresoever adventure leads thee. And be not dismayed by anything thou seest, for wherever thou goest God will be thy guide."_

How he loved to say these words! It was the first step towards affirming his destiny, and the first pen strokes in the story of his pilgrimage to the cathedral of truth.

# Chapter 2

## Concerning the ingenious man's visit with his uncle Jack Grosseteste

## פֿ

When he left for Kowloon Tong to visit his uncle, somewhere in his Asperger mind he knew he mission was upon him. After the ferry ride from his house on Lamma Island to Hong Kong Island where he picked up his motorcycle, Hellmantle cruised the south side of the island around the central mountains weaving his way through traffic to Victoria Harbor Tunnel riding under the harbor to Kowloon soon emerging into the thick underbelly of _Tsim Sha Tsui_. Taking an overpass through the seventh floor of an office building, he passed the congested shopping Mecca of _Mong Kok_ and entered a long tunnel under Lion Rock Mountain after which the number of cars dwindled. Hellmantle was in the mountains and forests of Hong Kong that no one ever saw, the part where nature still bloomed in full force. During the ride north through the green foliage and valleys his ardent belief in his destiny of greatness so deep, he spoke thus:

"They will speak about me one day in the centuries to come! It will be a story for those brave enough to find meaning in a word! They will find a record, those _armchair philosophers_ with potential of being world leaders who instead have chosen the practiced way of life eating popcorn on their soft couches. The world will have a testament of a life outside of constraints that hinder modern man during the _Time of the Great Change_. I make no apology for the fundamental extremism of my empirical data because that is the cost of discovering truth!"

So lithe with his tongue the words rolled out of his mouth like rainwater off a petal of the flower.

Ω

Parking _Sir Thighpiece_ in the quadrangle of the academic compound for professors, Hellmantle walked up the stairs to his uncle's apartment like _Homo Robustus_. When the door opened he saw before him a white-haired, white-bearded man of noble bearing. Perhaps due to the long time between visits, Jack Grosseteste was dumbstruck at the man in front of him, a look of bewilderment lingering for a moment.

"Good to see you Rolland." Grasping his hand, shaking it in earnest, his nephew looked different, older, somehow taller. Cheeks defined, he had become hardened by life. A scholar with a spiritual cast, he looked possessed, on fire, enlivened by purpose, a clear-eyed confidence born from knowledge. He had changed after his years in the Far East.

"Uncle, your timing could not be better. You call because of the Grail?" Jack Grosseteste's laughter, uneasy at first, tested the waters for his reaction.

"In fact yes, I do." Hellmantle, offended by the laughter because of the divine task before him, an event in history that demanded respect, could let this offence go unaddressed.

"Ignorance is the fundamental cause if disharmony in the world! And the global populace can no longer remain in a state of ignorance! God will open a path for me fraught with obstacles to test my spirit. How I overcome adversity will challenge my belief and determine my fate but _I am not a gimcrack!_ I am a man of my word through action, a seeker who sees life as an unfolding adventure. So! As a loyal member of the Hellmantle clan, I hereby declare my services available for hire." Earnest, and lacking irony, he squinted, looking deep into his uncle's eyes.

Jack Grosseteste, being a practical man who taught for a living, was confident that his nephew was suffering from a similar condition to that of his own father, Thomas Grosseteste. He suspected it was Aspergers that caused this neurosis because he knew the behaviors associated with the Hellmantle and Grosseteste autism gene.

"You might very well be hired Roland." Acknowledge with sincerity for the serious nature of his visit, Hellmantle relaxed.

"Ah! Since you're fond of the grape." Pulling out two bottles of wine for his uncle from his bag, he was happy to have the means to provide him with refreshments for dinner.

"You're a gentleman. Shall we try one?" Hellmantle, in his delusional state, believed his uncle acted as if it was still British Hong Kong despite it being four years since the handover. Colonial Britain in the Far East had changed over the generations evolving from tweed jackets and Oxford wing tips to insulated Gortex windbreakers and desert boots with rubber soles, all made across the border on the mainland.

"Did you know that your cousin D'Aqs is living in TST?"

"D'Aqs Grosseteste?" Surprised. "I thought he was living in Japan."

"No, not Japan. Burma. He's in a residence beside St. Andrew's church close to the harbor."

"No, I didn't know that."

"Resting after his stint as a missionary in Mandalay, he's been living here for almost six months now. He's on his way over here to have dinner with us."

"Why?" Face showing anxiety at the possible disturbance from their business at hand.

"Because we're discussing some family history. Sorry, perhaps I should have told you."

"I haven't seen him since I was a kid." It was at that moment when the doorbell rang and in walked D'Aqs Grosseteste. Time treated all people differently, but when he saw his cousin, shock replaced the look of determination on Hellmantle's face.

"My God! How long has it been Rolland? Fifteen years?"

"More, I think."

"Good to see you cousin. You look the same as boarding school," D'Aqs said. "Your beard suits you."

"You poor devil! What have you done to yourself? You look a little _sallow_." Prone to social gaffes and lacking social grace was attributable to Hellmantle's illness. " _A tad peeked_."

"I'm better than I was," he replied, a bit taken back. Two months ago D'Aqs had been deathly ill, having a bluish-yellow pallor, but he thought he had recovered sufficiently to pass as fit.

"When I arrived in July I was fearing for my life." He assumed Hellmantle had some idea of where he had been through his father.

"And now you're a _minister_." Distaste oozed, suspicion could not be masked.

"I am, but I'm not preaching this year. I-"

"What denomination please?"

"Anglican."

"Well _that's_ a relief." D'Aqs glanced at his father. "Though if one were to be a minister, _Presbyterian_ would be my choice."

"Good. I wanted to get away from the congested life of the West but I didn't expect such a jungle. Perhaps I should have, but the Burmese are good people and I enjoyed the years I was there."

"That's what it's like over here in Asia, but here in Hong Kong is a little better. But why are you in Hong Kong?"

"Because my father is here and because the Anglican diocese in _Tsim Sha Tsui_ had an open room that they are providing for me. I am recovering from malaria after my posting in Mandalay."

"That's a tough lot. That will stay in your liver for the rest of your life you unfortunate soul! It is a shame about the mosquitoes and the water there." Hellmantle then remembered to shake his hand. "Um, why a minister please?"

"I wanted something different, something meaningful."

"And?"

"What?"

"Is it meaningful?"

"Yes, it can be very meaningful." Hellmantle's expression changed to satisfaction as he looked at the bookshelves. "You look well enough to me Rolland."

"Indeed I am." D'Aqs wiped his hands on his shorts. "Ah! My hands are still sweating from the motorcycle ride here." He ran his hand through his long hair.

"You ride a motorcycle in Hong Kong?" Noticed his boots.

"I ride a _fast_ motorcycle in Hong Kong. Yes." Pointed at his hat on a chair beside the door.

"That's your motorcycle helmet?"

" _Hat_ , actually."

"That's a pretty risky proposition."

"That's what I said," said his father.

"It is _their_ inability to ride that is the only threat to my life," in a serious tone, motioning to the spaghetti of roadways through the window.

"Do you have a _death wish?_ " his uncle picked up his helmet. Hellmantle pensive, gazing out the window.

"Riding a motorcycle in Hong Kong can be a calming pastime," he said, almost in a whisper. "I am not eager to graduate to the _Great Café in the Sky_ until my work is done." Both Grossetestes laughed. "Besides, it's all right _here_. _Taiwan_ is the place where it's pretty hairy on the roads. Here in Hong Kong it's like riding on a big go-kart track with no shoulders. But it was the first day that was the toughest. Riding on the left side of the road was an exercise of fighting my reflexes to go the other way. My mantra was: _Stay left. Stay left!"_

"Just don't get yourself killed," said Jack Grosseteste.

For D'Aqs it was eerie seeing his cousin after so many years. An aspect about him that he could not place, maybe something in his eyes, an intensity that gave him a pang of fear in his gut. Intuition told him that Hellmantle was on edge, like a revved up engine about to overheat.

"It is good that you are both here," said the professor. "There is something from our family in Normandy that has come to me in the mail." He eyed Hellmantle, who looked positively haunted by some Holy Spirit. "But we'll look into this business after dinner. First we eat."

The three of them went into the main room where all Professor Grosseteste's books and encyclopaedias lined the walls. It was cold in the library where the air conditioner blasted, one of the many things that Hellmantle could not understand. His shirt wet from his ride, he shivered in the cold air but his uncle and cousin were both reluctant to turn down the air conditioner. He didn't think twice about putting on his motorcycle jacket. For him it was irrational to shiver in discomfort and eat, so he wore it throughout dinner. Every time he brought food to his mouth they could hear the thick leather crinkling, elbow pads built into the leather stretching and bending as he ate. They spoke about family and about the Far East but Hellmantle for the most part was quiet. The only reason he was there was to find out what his task was in order to engage in his first sally.

# Chapter 3

## Which relates to how Hellmantle is given his first adventure

## Kowloon Tong, Hong Kong

## כֿ

Being so dedicated to the pursuit of truth under the ever-watchful eye of God, Hellmantle hurried dinner and drank wine, hoping to get to the meat of why he had been asked to his uncles' place. D'Aqs became increasingly aware of the unbalanced emphasis of his cousin on all things related to the Bible.

"Like so many noble families," said Hellmantle out of the blue, "the history of the Hellmantle clan is at risk of being relegated to a dusty shelf in favor of watching television. For my part, I am _proud_ not to have a television. It is winning the battle for people's limited supply of time and has even _more power_ over people's belief systems than the Catholic Church had during its reign of terror for two millennia! It is for this reason that I have been able to get so much done in the family tree, and now, so close to finding the truth about what happened to Jesus, I predict it will profoundly affect our lives as well as the lives of mankind."

As a trained missionary, D'Aqs was skeptical at first of his cousin's outlandish opinions, but then realized that he was a bit off-centre in general. His father gave him a glance during dinner that said he too was worried about his nephew.

The professor, seeing how his guest was itching to hear what he had to say, delayed no more after the maid removed the dishes from the table.

"As we all know," he began, "our families left Normandy to escape the residual oppression from the Pope Pius and his minions because our family, both Grosseteste and Hellmantle, bear the name of the coveted Merovingian bloodline of the _Desposyni_ : the ancestral offspring of the family of Jesus and Mary Magdalene. And because of this, our family is a threat to the Catholic Church by virtue of being alive." Hellmantle's eyes beamed, loving the words that referred to the greatness of his ancestors, which gave him visions of his own greatness.

"Don't forget," interrupted Hellmantle, "that the Hellmantles in particular have been persecuted throughout the centuries following the First Crusade, when our forefather _Owen Hellmantle_ fought alongside the _Nine Worthies_ , such as Hughes des Payens and Godfrey de Boullion."

"Yes, we must never forget our ancestor Owen Hellmantle who distinguished himself during the campaign of the first of the six to recover the temple from the infidels." Hellmantle's uncle, who, as mentioned, was something of a rogue himself with family history, knew his nephew had spent countless hours reading about their family past that had magnified his zealous devotion to seeking truth, unlike his son who had instead become a priest. This both scared and thrilled him because in Hellmantle lay the future of the family, and perhaps the solution to the unsolved questions that had dogged the Hellmantles and _Desposyni_ for centuries.

Nodding in encouragement, the light of hope brewing in his heart, professor Grosseteste spoke thus:

"Remember the family story about how your grandfather _Dane Hellmantle_ joined the French Foreign Legion and saw action overseas?" The mention of Dane Hellmantle – or the _Great Dane_ as he was known within the family – brought a palpable reaction to Hellmantle.

Professor Grosseteste went to his desk and brought back a letter.

"What is it?"

"This is an old letter that...that should have found its way home sooner but didn't." An edge to his voice. "It has to do with your grandfather. It was written by a soldier in the French Foreign Legion named Louis de Steward who happened to die just after the battle of _Dien Bien Phu_. Unfortunately the letter was left to Louis de Steward's brother Godfrey, who recently died without knowing where or how to find anyone from the Hellmantle clan. Since we had fled to _New France_ three generations ago when the _jackboots_ invaded, and de Steward knew no relations of ours in Europe, he couldn't find us." A frown and shaking of the head. "Since _your_ father has passed away, I'm the eldest living male relative of Dane Hellmantle. It was de Steward's lawyer who found the next of kin, which was me." He handed the letter not to D'Aqs but to Hellmantle. D'Aqs felt a spicy mixture of guilt and shame for not showing more interest in the rich tapestry of his family's unique past. A slap in the face. But for Hellmantle it was the moment when all would change forever.

"The letter has our symbol on it." Hands shaking as he opened the letter, handwritten scrawl on yellowed paper had faded over time. He read the letter aloud:

December 1954

To the Son of Dane Hellmantle,

As a fellow Legionnaire, I impart this important message to you for safekeeping and execution. The brave Dane Hellmantle, whom I had the honor of serving with during the siege, and who now lies dead after weeks of intense fighting with the enemy's guns, gave me the responsibility to make sure the story of the lost scroll may be kept within the Hellmantle clan and that one day a Crusader from the descendants of the Long-Haired Kings will complete what needs to be done to bring the truth to light.

Before he was killed in Indochina, the Great Dane said to me that if he were to fall in battle I was to tell his son that he had found the map. I do not know where the map is because it was the Great Dane's design that no one person knew everything. The secret of the lost map was left with a valiant Dutch preacher who he had met while on leave in Hanoi. All that I know about this Dutchman is that he returned to his church on Luzon Island in the Philippines, where 'the bell tower rings and the color rouge glows.' Find the Dutchman and you will find the map.

The Great Dane adamantly believed that this is a task for a Hellmantle. If he is like his forefathers, then he will have the spiritual vigor and undaunted courage to carry him forth to find the Dutch Padre and the map. These sacred scrolls are said to be from Jude Thomas the disciple. If these scrolls are found, it may change the course of modern religious history on par with his Merovingian ancestors during the First Crusade.

God bless you to whom this quest is bequeathed.

Louis de Steward

Hellmantle bolted up. "The hand of destiny touches me in the shoulder!" Eyes ablaze, sweat on his forehead. "We must correct the fudging of the divine message that has been carried out by Rome for two millennia!"

Professor Grosseteste dipped his brow slightly at his son, who sat wide-eyed listening to the madman sitting across from him. But for Hellmantle the letter in his hand had finally brought the legendary Dane Hellmantle to life. This greater-than-life character from a foggy past was now bringing him into the fold of great adventurers that had served God for a thousand years. Hellmantle spoke thus:

"Time and perhaps my life might be the sacrifice required for this adventure, but it falls on my shoulders and I accept wholeheartedly the responsibilities of this assignment with God as my witness. I shall flourish while I find this Dutchman and come into the riches of hidden truths too long buried from our eyes. I seek to shatter the illusions that hamper mankind and bring back the treasures that are bestowed to us and our forefathers."

D'Aqs watched his cousin with absolute curiosity. " _Fudging?"_

"Fudging, yes. _Major fudging_. _At the Council of Nicaea in 325AD_." They both looked at D'Aqs.

"Yes?" His pale skin took on a rose hue.

"At the Council of Nicaea the Roman Emperor Constantine the Great decided to make Jesus the product of a virgin birth, and a number of other very odd tenets that still to this day rub people the wrong way because it goes against very basic intuition," said his father.

"It was _voted_ into existence, _almost three hundred years after Jesus' life_ , that He was a _product of a virgin birth_ and that He was the Son of God, _not_ the Son of Man," Hellmantle, eyes piercing. "They also _voted_ to adopt the belief of the Trinity." "I've always considered the virgin birth to be difficult to believe." D'Aqs sheepish and embarrassed at his lack of knowledge.

"That's an _understatement!_ " Even in the Quran there's a passage that goes: 'They sirely lie against God those who say, "God is one of three in a Trinity." There is no god except One Allah. If they do not stop themselves from their word of lies, a painful penalty will surely fall on the liars among them.' "

"From what I know about Louis de Steward," said Jack Grosseteste, "he and Dane were stationed in Hanoi before the war and became friends. De Steward survived the war and lived in Laos after the surrender of the French until his death in 1956. There were many dedicated French soldiers who found it difficult to let go of a land they had ruled for 150 years. De Steward was one of these dedicated Frenchmen who believed the land was theirs. From what I know he was stabbed by one of his servants who was a secret communist." Hellmantle listened but had his back to him looking for an atlas in his uncle's bookshelves.

"Damn shame," he said.

"Your grandfather's friend Louis de Steward was one of these soldiers who kept fighting after a hundred-and-fifty years of colonial rule. And you know that the Grosseteste and Hellmantle possessions in Indochina were seized."

"When I was in Cambodia I could still feel anti-French sentiment, fifty years after the French leaving," said Hellmantle. At last he found an atlas, opened it to a detailed map of the Philippines out on the balcony and found Luzon Island.

Meanwhile Jack Grosseteste confirmed with his son that Hellmantle had Aspergers Syndrome and was precariously balanced on a precipice waiting for the slightest gust of wind to push the poor young man over the edge into the abyss. They agreed that his intentions were noble but he was careless enough to invite danger. As family, and with his father dead and so far away from home, the professor asked D'Aqs to accompany him to the Philippines on his quest, insisting the fresh air and exercise of the trip would do him good and contribute to his full recovery. D'Aqs shared his father's concern and agreed to join Hellmantle on his task as long as his father could cover the costs of the trip. D'Aqs thought it might be something he could contribute to honor his father's interest in secret societies that characterized the families' past.

Head buried in the atlas, studying the minutia of gradients and shorelines and roads, Hellmantle suddenly erupted:

"Providence will show that this Dutchman is still alive and that we shall find him!" Confident, spoken with a proud posture.

"Will you be able to afford the time off work?" asked Jack Grosseteste.

" _Work!_ 'Tis secondary to me uncle! _This_ is everything! Finding the _Padre_ is my focus now. Nothing will stop me and no one will stand in my way."

"But it could be dangerous."

" _Dangerous!_ I hope it is! I am fit to undertake this sally without help or advantage. The journey must be executed with vigor and integrity since God will witness our trials and hardships that will be the road to salvation!" D'Aqs went to take the atlas from Hellmantle but he grabbed it back, exclaiming:

" _None_ shall hinder my research nor obstruct my methods! Be not careless my cousin and get in my way!"

D'Aqs and his father exchanged looks again but this went unnoticed by Hellmantle, who, being inspirited, settled into studying Luzon Island on the map. D'Aqs, in an effort to keep things rational, asked:

"Do you even think that this Dutch priest exists?"

"Of course he exists!" exclaimed his indignant cousin. "The question should be my dear cousin, _is he still alive?_ " He could see Hellmantle doing some swift calculations in his head, his hand going to his chin. "If he were 25 in 1954, then he'd be 72 years old, and priests never really retire, do they?"

"Well, they _do_ Rolland." Using his first name was D'Aqs' effort to reach out to the sane part of his mind, but this too failed to penetrate the wall of irrationality that had taken hold of his mental fortress.

"But he _must_ be alive, don't you see? We are part of a secret brotherhood that has remained together since the victorious find in Jerusalem when the original nine crusaders from Normandy led the First Crusade in 1099 and found what they sought under the Temple of Solomon in 1106. My poor D'Aqs! Do you forget that our family history recorded that the Nine Worthies were following a map?"

"No, but what were they looking for?"

"The treasure was the discovery – or _rediscovery_ – of sacred geometry that has since been the foundation for building cathedrals throughout Europe for the last thousand years. _Do you forget your history, man?"_

"I guess I do."

"Hughes de Payens _changed history_. He believed in the whispered secrets kept alive among the brotherhood to lead the First Crusade and persevere for seven years, digging under Solomon's stables to find the buried booty. _And nobody knows his name_. But we do. And some of his blood stirs through our veins. Now it's _our turn_ to believe, to have faith, and to succeed." Vehemence overflowed in Hellmantle.

Professor Grosseteste, savvy enough to seize the opportunity of his nephew being so committed, took his cue and spoke thus:

"That's for you to find out, Rolland. And when you go to the Philippines to discover the truth, you should go with your cousin because he can learn about our family history, something he has ignored his entire life. It behooves all people to know about their past and family history. Our story happens to be a little more involved than the average family." He looked at his hands. "Believe me, I would go with you but I am not able. Remember, the only thing an older man envies of a younger man is the bounty of time that lies at his feet in the fullness of youth."

With his chin high up in the air, Hellmantle replied:

" _Time is like malleable clay_ within the reach of a sculptor teeming with untested ideas," proud of his philosophical acumen. "I am a man who goes forth into the world to press my thoughts against humanity with only _Helios_ and God as my witness. For me curiosity _is the sparkplug to action_. I have learned through hardships of adventure that the _bite is more profitable than the graze."_

"I'm afraid more goes on than can be explained by your little philosophy," said Jack Grosseteste.

" _Tall words uncle_ ," he replied.

"How?" asked D'Aqs. " _How_ are you going to find a Dutch priest in the northern island of the Philippines?"

"Motorcycles, man! The _modern horse_. Stop off at all the churches with a bell tower we see while touring the island." D'Aqs thought it was a joke at first but then realized that his cousin was serious.

"It's an enormous task."

"I don't have a choice. If you want to come with me then I encourage it because you ought to know more about where you came from. Can you afford it?" D'Aqs looked at his father and saw the subtle confirmation in his nod.

"Yes, I can." It was at this moment D'Aqs committed himself to the challenge of finding a priest in the Philippines that started the chain of events that would follow.

# Chapter 4
## About what happened to our adventurer when he goes to the Philippines

## Manila, the Philippines, December 2001

## בֿ

Arriving in Manila was like stepping into a sauna full of dust bunnies. Fighting mid-afternoon traffic through exhaust-filled wisps of smoke didn't bother Hellmantle because he was fully cocked for his quest, but D'Aqs suffered. Hundreds of _Jeepnies_ leftover from the war picked up people wherever they waved, never signaling. Non-stop beeping of horns, potholes, squalor, rivers of mud and excrement, stilted shacks falling down and odors pungent to make him gag.

After unpacking and consulting his Manila map, he and D'Aqs took a taxi downtown to a motorcycle rental shop near the US embassy. Security guards with guns poised, soldiers half-leaning against the embassy's front wall, half-sitting in open lorries spanning the block that kissed Manila Bay, it was a peculiar time in Manila. The night before two bombings, one in a mall in the vicinity and the other an American-owned oil company headquarters, but even this did not deter the enkindled Hellmantle.

Walking past the military chest out and conspicuous, Hellmantle heard the hum of a two-stroke engine, like a beaver to the sound of flowing water. D'Aqs had ridden a motorcycle once when he was young but Hellmantle thrived on two-wheels. Knowing precisely the equipment required for their excursion, when he saw the red Honda CR250 plastic fenders curved over the front wheel with motor-cross hyperbole, he reached for the throttle to seize ownership.

" _A man without a motorcycle is a man in prison_ ," he said matter-of-factly. From a cluster of motorbikes shaded by palm trees a man handed Hellmantle the key, the extent of the salesman's pitch. He could recognize a motorcycle enthusiast when he saw one. As soon as Hellmantle felt the ripples of revs permeate through his wrists up to his heart, his passion to explore surfaced with oomph.

D'Aqs tried to sit on a CR250 but the bike was too big and unwieldy. Pointing to the smaller Honda XR125, the salesman handed the key to him.

"This one's better," he said. At first glance the bikes looked like they were in sub-par condition but upon close scrutiny the chains were tight and oiled, brakes crisp and clutch easy to clasp. Both engines purred. He knew the salesman was on the side of the rider, not out to exploit a man with a peppery bug for a bike.

To prepare for what lay before them, Hellmantle bought motorcycling gloves and bungee cords for D'Aqs. He had brought his compass, waterproof boots and eyewear but was forced to rent a small helmet. Hellmantle shrugged, attaching it to the strap on his knapsack preferring not to wear any headgear. With everything rented they rode away from the shop to the oceanfront. D'Aqs heard hysterical laughter coming from Hellmantle when riding side-by-side past the Yacht Club and palm trees that lined the waterfront. Then, to calm the raring winds of his spirit that was in high alert at the pilgrimage before them, Hellmantle yelled:

" _Routine of the ordinary is the bane of the philosopher! All that is mundane is that which the dynamic innovator despises!_ " D'Aqs could not hear the words that his cousin said, the outburst swallowed by the Manila Bay breeze, lost to all but God.

For D'Aqs to get his bearings and some practice, they went on a tour around Manila, any adjustments needing to be made better tweaked in the city before departing tomorrow. Hellmantle only saw rot and decay that had pulled down this once pearl of the orient. Old architectural gems and colonial arches fell slow as molasses in a scrum of thousands of motorcycles in a noisy cloud of pollution, an infrastructure underutilized by neglect and mismanagement. They had overlooked the ingenuity and example left by the Spanish Visigoths, bringing the city to its knees. Since Hellmantle had lived in the Philippines in the past, he knew something about its culture and history, it governance of over 7100 islands a near impossibility, a region where corruption was rife. He thought LeGazpsi, the read-bearded founder of the Far East Spanish colony, built these architectural masterpieces to stun the indigenous peoples when they left the country and came to the city. Ornate buildings and intricate churches dotted the urban plot with parks and trees lining streets spoke once of a utopia.

Ω

For dinner Hellmantle took his cousin to Heckles and Jeckles, a biker bar where the _Mad Dogs Motorcycle Club_ hung out. Roused and thirsty sitting on bar stools, they ordered a round of cold beers and talked strategy for finding the church with the rouge bell tower.

"This is quite a place," said D'Aqs, eyeing some big bikers drinking beer and playing pool in their leather vests showing their tattooed arms. Hellmantle nodded at a few of them.

" _Better a full cheeseburger than a plain hamburger_ , if you know what I'm getting at." Hellmantle, when working in Manila for another magazine, had been asked by a member of the motorcycle club to write a documentary about its initiation, working with a filmmaker to record the ceremony. He had come to know some of the members, many regarding him with suspicion. The music blared from the corners of the car.

"I used to hang out here," he said, casually scanning the bar, face a number of shades darker from dirt and dust and sweat. Two more bottles of beer arrived from the bartender who pointed at the billiards table. A massive bald man nodded at Hellmantle, who in turn raised his bottle and nodded.

"You know him?" D'Aqs unaccustomed to this rough milieu. One of the prostitutes approached Hellmantle and spoke to him in Tagalog, which he understood. Twenty pounds under weight and also thirsty, she asked for a beer and Hellmantle, perhaps forgetting that he had just received a free round the bald biker, ordered another round of San Miguel beer. She left him to talk shop with a new customer.

"Do you remember Nick Patton from Lakefield?" Hellmantle was still distracted by the woman.

"Nick? You mean the thick guy in the corner with all those motocross posters on his wall?"

"Yes, that guy. A few years after he left he lost his arm off-roading somewhere in Coburg where he lived." Hellmantle thought back twenty-five years.

"I saw Asselstine running a chairlift during my university years. _Stain_ looked the same."

"Remember when you put that dead fish in Kerber's bed? My word, that was funny! He didn't notice until he climbed into bed."

Shaking his head slowly, "So much Tom Foolery those years." D'Aqs could see his eyes recollecting like a Rolodex of exploits and mischief. He wondered if he thought of the night they went out to play Space Invaders at the local pizza hangout and Hellmantle was the only one not be caught, but then Hellmantle's brother came into his mind.

"Ramsauer thought you were the greatest after that dare."

" _Seepage_. He's probably living in Spain off his trust fund."

"That was a great nickname. Too bad he was only at Lakefield for one year. That guy needed a brother." The words slipped out. They hovered there, tense. Until there was a break of the billiards balls.

"Dane Hellmantle is why we're here, is it not?"

"Yes. It is," said D'Aqs. Hellmantle pulled out his map of Luzon Island, D'Aqs studying the layout with him.

"We should ride up the middle through the Cordillera Mountains to _Baguio City_ and _Bontoc_ , and then around to the east if we can get through the Sierra Madres. _If_ we can find a way across the mountains to the east, we ride north to _Aparri_ and then west along the northern shores to Laoag City and down back to Manila." Voice calm, even and dispassionate, as if talking about what kind of cereal to buy at the supermarket.

"It's a long slog," said D'Aqs, to get it out in the open and on the table.

"I don't know if you as good as me on two wheels, but since you're a Hellmantle, er, a _Gross Testicle_ , I'm guessing you're not _too_ bad on a motorbike. You seemed pretty steady today."

"I think I can handle it," an assured tone.

"Let me never beat around the bush. I have to say that I am among the best in the world when it comes to motorcycling in foreign lands with maps and a compass." The directness and arid objectivity of his volley had D'Aqs wondering if it were a joke.

"So you won't slow me down, eh?"

"I have lived here before you know. And these roads are different than the roads you're used to. Debris and those Jeepnies can be dangerous."

"It's an opportunity not to miss."

"As long as you don't slow _me_ down then things should be groovy. I strongly dislike waiting for a fellow rider. I don't particularly like going _fast_. Going too fast on two wheels is like _quaffing coffee_. Better to savor the ride, like a good cup of the java bean. But for this I can only take a week off work so we will need to hustle."

"And you speak the native tongue."

"A small hit."

"May come in handy, particularly in the north."

"If we head to Baguio City then we can ride to the rice terraces, one of the Seven Wonders of the World, or actually the _Eighth Wonder_ of the World. We should try to ride through it to the eastern highway if we can. Our only stop that isn't part of our quest is in _Sagada_." He pulled out a cigarette and ordered another round of San Miguel beer. D'Aqs located _Sagada_ on the map.

"Why's that?"

"Because I met a woman a few months ago from Germany who lives there as an artist. I said I would visit her. The only problem is that she doesn't have a telephone so she won't know I'm coming. She told me she could be reached at a place called _The Shamrock Café_."

"It's good that it's on the way."

Now, our seeker of truth had perhaps mistaken the beer for water. He drank bottle after bottle with alarming rapidity that resulted in his voice growing bolder. It was this that attracted the large biker from the billiards table over to the bar where the cousins sat.

"Hellmantle! You're back." The biker was three hundred pounds with scars on one of his cheeks, like a cascade of pink tissue. Not the prettiest face.

"I am though I am on a mission, my brother."

"You're not my brother," he replied. "I saw that film that you wrote. You said some rough things, man."

"Sometimes the truth must be laid bare despite the hue of color," he said. The large biker didn't like hearing that, and so motioned for another biker to come over, but Hellmantle continued and spoke thus:

"Fear of convention and normalcy is an ongoing impetus for drastic change. It is the cause for the manifestation of extremism – _extremism in the evolution of self_. Don't you see, old man, that this is in the deepest nature of the philosopher? Evolution of self is that which motivates one to excel. A philosopher needs his _space_ , his visual piece, and his sounds of nature to feel a sense of belonging to his environment. He needs his _hue_ and his _visual theatre to flourish!_ " The last words gaining volume and enunciated with relish that only offended the biker. His friend was big too and had more tattoos.

"I ain't got no fear, man!"

"Of course you don't my good man," he replied, as if unaware of the danger brewing in front of him. "I am from a _Grail Family_ of particular note and bear a coveted bloodline. We can trace our line back to the days of 925AD, when Rollo led the Danish Vikings to the Siege of Paris! His army surrounded the city for a year until the French king said ' _Enough!_ We'll give you a little piece of land and call it _Northmandy_.' The Hellmantle coat-of-arms still hangs in Rollo's original castle in Normandy!" D'Aqs stood up in fear of the situation since he was now implicated with the last statement.

"Who cares?" said the biker, pushing Hellmantle. But he regarded the shove as a pat on the back among non-conformists and motorcycle brothers.

"You know sometimes I just don't get it. When I look at the world, I cannot fathom why so many choose to be ignorant of their past! It is only in our past that we can make sense of where we are and where we're going. And indeed where we _should_ go. It's incredulous when I think of all the people who never ask themselves: where did I come from? I believe it is the most fundamental question a man can ask. Where did Abraham come from? Who was Joseph? What happened to the Ten Lost Tribes of Israel? Where are they now? _Who are they?_ Why isn't-" He didn't see it coming because the fist appeared in a flash of bones and skin and knuckles.

To the biker's credit it was only one punch, enough to shut him up. If they had not known Hellmantle before, they would have thought him mad but they did know him and he had been the one who used dubious words to describe some aspects of their initiation that did not paint the _Mad Dogs_ in a good light. When they saw the claret from his nose the only other jab was a kick in the shin by the other biker. They both needed to contribute. D'Aqs stood motionless with his cousin lying on the floor by his feet.

# Chapter 5

## In which the story of our crusader's journey begins in earnest

## וֹ

After the assault of his person, Hellmantle was sore getting up the next day looking puffy and unsteady, limping to his motorcycle. As if to stay centered on his enterprise and ignore the soreness of his shin and swollen nose, he kept telling his cousin facts from history books he had read. D'Aqs, for his part, only nodded and tried to piece together this complex world that his cousin spoke of.

"Finding the map is imperative. We _must_ do it for the _Great Dane_ and for the _Blonde Acquitaine_. Our achievement will rival those of the _Nine Worthies_."

"Can I ask you something?"

"You may Mr. _Testicleez_ ," replied Hellmantle.

"Why are you so into this? The Desposyni? I mean, why does it all matter?" He couldn't really describe the look on Hellmantle's face, but after seeing his shock, he felt ashamed for asking. He cleared his throat before answering:

"Why do some people like chocolate?" He shook his head. "There's a lot you don't know about D'Aqs, but maybe in time you will come to know what I know – if you're interested that is. The great story of the Bible is still happening. The Old Testament is really just a story about a family. A _big family tree_. And we're part of this story. You'll see I due course." He let out a tremendous sigh that could be heard in the crosswinds and roar of honking horns of Manila's city streets.

Under a blue sky and in the tropical heat of December, they could hardly see the road in front of them through pollution and dusty air. The gray-brownish hue of the smog hung like a skirt above the city, but on the horizon it petered out to the fantastic blue sky with no clouds marring its purity. Escaping claustrophobic congestion of Manila's traffic was frustrating because potholes, lack of road signs and general disarray of streets slowed their speed. For Hellmantle, riding on the right-hand side of the road after riding on the left side in Hong Kong proved hazardous so he clung to the centerline because _Jeepnies_ pulled over to the shoulder in quick movements never checking for traffic in its blind spot. Motorcycles with sidecars called Tricycles were also a menace on the roads because they disregarded traffic law in a reckless manner. But soon they found their rhythm, able to tackle traffic turbulence with little distraction. Hellmantle was giddy and could not help talking to himself as he rode his CR250, and spoke thus:

"Those who think for themselves have always stood on a slippery perch threatened with the punishment of death! Such is the fate of original thinkers since the beginning of time. Those that have a small mind dominate the petty, and by dominating the petty they exercise control over the other small minds that add up to a _big voice_. But not me! I break away and break out! I shall correct the mighty wrongs that have hurt humankind and injured those with sensitive antennae for truth!"

Ω

Volcanoes stretched across the horizon in a ridge of apexes, some bare as ping-pong balls. Palm trees covered the huge plateau that led to the apron of the mountains. After hours of dodging irresponsible drivers, breathing in leaded exhaust and enduring debris churned up on semi-paved roads, they pulled over for a drink of water in San Fernando that felt like liquid silk on their dusty palettes. Named after King Ferdinand II of Spain, St. Peter's Church, with its massive yellow dome, dominated the city.

"Since the church doesn't have a bell tower we don't need to check it out," said D'Aqs, making sure they were both on the same page.

"True, it is _sans_ tower, but rather an attractive piece."

"Classic colonial architecture."

"I believe it's where the Good Friday _Flagellantes_ takes place every year, where peoples dress like Christ, prostrate themselves until their backs are raw from whipping, and re-enact the crucifixion with real nails. _Serious devotion_."

"I've heard about that." The church courtyard was void of life.

"To me the church looks like _Saint Sulpice_ seminary in Paris; the place where Saint Bernard de Clairvaux lived."

"Never heard of it."

"Try not to be embarrassed about that," said Hellmantle, the closest he could come to empathy. "Saint Sulpice is where monks and scholars have always worked with our forefathers; it was the spiritual nerve center of the First Crusade. If we find the map we could take it there for interpretation and safekeeping. Remember, the Catholic Church has its share of assassins who would try to _kill_ any of us who wanted to reveal any of these secrets."

The intensity in his eyes surprised D'Aqs. A man on a mission, he reminded himself he was there to make sure Hellmantle wasn't killed by his recklessness. D'Aqs remembered before the onset of Aspergers that went untreated for so long, Hellmantle was every bit attentive to all practical aspects of life, from running his properties to managing his affairs with a balanced hand. Now his illness had clearly taken hold, particularly after his father had been killed in a car crash that some believed was instigated by Rome. But everything really changed after his identical twin brother Rheine was killed in a skiing accident during grade eleven when they were at boarding school together. D'Aqs wasn't on that ski trip but from he had heard Hellmantle was the one who was egging his brother on to take a steep jump that he himself was too afraid to take. Rheine broke his neck and died two days later, Hellmantle consoling him on the ski hill in a frozen puddle of tears. Much of his _jois de vivre_ evaporated after that, him soon leaving the school at the end of that year. He had heard through his father that Hellmantle had become an extremist in everything he did, as if he flaunted death to take him to his twin brother the afterlife. The twins used to talk for hours after dark in the dorm with other _Desposyni_ offspring about details of adventures in history that were handed down only verbally generation to generation, a world of high adventure out there somewhere far beyond the steeples and spires of the private school.

For D'Aqs the story of bloodlines was a murky one at best, often making him dizzy remembering where each family line descended, but for Hellmantle it came easily because he had been immersed in Grail history since he could speak. D'Aqs had been brought up with its history of intrigue and secrecy, but to hear it swallowed and spouted as unmovable fact made him uneasy. He knew secret societies had protected the bloodline of Jesus and His true message but none of it ever touched him _until now_. This man in front of him was a living representative of this belief system. But D'Aqs was still quite skeptical as to whether it was true. It was one thing to believe something but another thing to prove it true.

"I suspect," he said, sensing D'Aqs skepticism, "that you have only a minimal interest in all of this, but I am the opposite. I began reading some books about this secret history many years ago, which has served to provide many missing pieces of the puzzle for me. Like the fact that the words ' _Holy Grail''_ describe Jesus' bloodline, _not a cup_."

"Oh, how so?"

" _Holy Grail comes from the French 'Sangreal_ " or ' _Le Seynt Graal_ " or ' _le Saint Graal_ " meaning ' _Holy Blood.' Sangre is Spanish for blood. To seek the Holy Grail is to try to find a woman with the bloodline of Jesus._ That's pretty important to know my preacher cousin! All those books of Grail lore were basically about knights going out to get laid!"

"That's the first time I've heard it expressed like that."

"The _Blonde Aquitaine_ and the _Prior de Sion_ maintained the belief that Jesus had children that were to be the hereditary kings of Europe for many centuries. Hey man, the fact is that Jesus married Mary Magdalene and that he had children – three to be exact. It was Jesus' second son, named Josephus, who had children and it is from his line that the Merovingian families come from. And as a Merovingian family, we believe we have the blood of the royal line that flows in our veins. Because of this we have the responsibility to protect His untainted beliefs until the Catholic Church loses enough power so the public is ready for the _corrected truth!_ " Soaking wet from sweat from his little speech, Hellmantle turned on the engine, slipped into first gear and left D'Aqs in a dusty cloud.

# Chapter 6
## About Hellmantle's time in the city of sin on Christmas Eve

## Angeles City, Pampanga Province

## תּ

When they reached Angeles City, D'Aqs wanted to stay in the hotel and eat but Hellmantle insisted on dinner at a place called _Margaretville's_. It also happened to be Christmas Eve. A mile or two of nothing but bars and nightclubs for thirsty travelers, the strip was just across the fence from the old American base, which was now empty and barren. When the Americans left after Mount Pinatubo erupted in 1991, much of the city became a ghost town but it kept up its reputation as a city of sin with its strip of clubs and brothels. In such a staunchly Catholic country, it was like Tijuana during Prohibition.

Shin still sore, Hellmantle limped to the bar where they sat next to an old US Marine with cropped hair and deep lines in his face and neck. The Marine was a little unsteady from too much Christmas cheer. Finding good food was a bonus and the beer quenched their thirst, but things turned sour when the Marine became embittered. For a while they ate in silence, listening.

"They kicked us out in ninety-one and now they spend all this money - that they _don't have_ \- to operate our old equipment. Everything we left them is falling apart!" Rock music pumped out of the jukebox, hookers at the bar and everywhere else, Angeles City had a dead weight cast over it like a blackened lung gurgling for its last breath. "Bloody Hell! Do people forget about Macarthur?" said the Marine, raising his voice.

"I've seen the statue of General Macarthur within the old walls of _Intramurous_ and on the island of Corregidor," said Hellmantle. "He was a great man in local Philippine history but his importance has diminished since the war. Nationalism now blunts the fine-tuning fork that was once Manila's." His words went some way to quell the old man's temper.

"You're a smart kid. Did you know that Clark Air Force base had the highest re-enlistment rate of any American base?" His ticked-off bluntness appealed to Hellmantle, which opened the gates to his own verbal tirade.

"Sure. There was a hierarchy of landed knights here who postured among the elite but slipped into the hedonism of vice, slanderous untruth and desperation. Regardless of whether they wore berets in battle or in cafés, these men all shared a common currency: _the Angeles experience_. It was the hard-man's Hilton Head, a piece of ass they called their own." D'Aqs watched the activities of old single men and their Philippina escorts sitting around the bar with long faces on the eve of Jesus Christ's birth. If there was one night to see sorry faces, this was it. It sent a chill through him, motivating him to get an early start the next day.

"Society is going backwards here," said the Marine.

"These men have earned their time and they aren't about to apologize about _anything_." The marine nodded, enjoying such an informed opinion from such a young man. "Perhaps the only Achilles Heel these hardened blokes have is smart-assed youths entering their world with a 21st-century attitude. But to be fair, like fathers long separated from their sons, guys here want to hand down their wisdom to the next wave of independent thinkers so that the _muster of their overcoming_ won't be lost to _the silent ears of time_." Something in D'Aqs told him that his cousin was moving towards risk of injury if he kept talking in such a direct manner.

"I had always wondered: _Where do they all go?_ Where do all the good men go who had stepped up to bat during the sixties and seventies in Vietnam, faced divorce in the eighties and then retired in the nineties? Where did they settle, these worn men of action? They live _here_ in Angeles City, close to the old base that I'm sure still conjures up memories of a lost time."

"You're not wrong son."

"America is too sugar-coated for them and Europe is too culturally snobby, but here their monthly stipend goes far. The Philippines offers the ideal solution. It affords them relative wealth, fun, good climate and English. For _historically mature_ Americans, it's still a colony that they fought for twice in history: once from the Spanish, and once from the Imperial Army of Japan."

" _Bloody Japs_." D'Aqs sensed trouble.

"There have been more than enough American deaths to justify the adopted posture of many who are here who believe that this country is still part of the American sphere of influence, or in other words, _their own_."

"I'll tell you kid, I do. This is still our colony."

"Americans still _permeate_ the ruling class of this nightclub utopia of sin. Here you can live with the buying power of kings. Now with grown children and long-lost wives, you guys can live out your bachelor lives of the early years. Angeles City is your turf, your home base; you have earned your elitism from your life's work. So there shouldn't be anyone depriving you of your _personal space of jollification_." This boosted the vim of the Marine, leading him to rant.

"Why can't those fat cats in government get some money together and fix the potholes and sludge on the streets? How difficult is it to fix a pothole?"

"Yes, basic maintenance of society is beginning to wane. A devolution backwards, it's becoming a place where Marines are ridiculed as being part of the problem," Hellmantle shot back.

"But if you have such issues like this, then why do you choose to live here?" asked D'Aqs.

"I live off my pension from the army, like your brother here said, just the same as many of these guys here. And the Philippines is one of the only places where I can live comfortably off that money. Otherwise I would be back in the States poor as a _turd_." It wasn't in D'Aqs nature to castigate those worthy of castigation.

"Why not in Thailand?"

"Because they don't speak English. And in Angeles there are a lot of us vets who can relive memories from Nam as your brother said, and we can drink _Tsing Tao_ , still made at the brewery Germans built in their old colony in China, in the north I think. It's the best local number, second to only the premium-imported beers of Europe." The Marine raised his pint glass. "Here's to Christmas. It's Jesus' birthday after all." Hellmantle didn't raise his glass.

"Jesus was actually born on Sunday, March 1st in 7BC," he said, all serious, and full of booze.

"What?"

"The things you read Hellmantle!" said D'Aqs, trying to deflect. "Careful not to believe everything you read." D'Aqs' right eye twitched from fatigue.

"When the eldest son from the Royal House of David is born," he said, slowly and clearly as if teaching a group of imbeciles, "he must be born in September. This is because the royal couple has marital relations for only one month every year: in December. Any offspring born outside of September would be regarded as illegitimate. Since Jesus was born on March 1st, He was never accepted by the ruling council of elders – the Pharisees - as the heir to Joseph. But since His younger brother James was born in September six years later, it was James who was accepted as the legitimate inheritor of the eldest son status. To inherit the title _Joseph_ , that all eldest males inherit in the royal line, one must be born in September. And that's why James came to be known as _Joseph of Arimathea_ , why their father was known as Joseph, and perhaps why Jesus came to be known during his life as a bit of a militant revolutionary and rebel."

"And where did you read this?" asked the Marine. "A _comic book?_ " He stood abruptly, took his leave in a swoon of sin, waddling off with a Philippina forty years his junior.

"Why are you so _adamant_ about all this stuff?"

"I have read the great books by authors who went forward with courage and wrote down the truth for the sake of _truth-seekers_ like me. And as a Hellmantle, it is my duty to take the mantle and run with it. Now, my missionary cousin, does that make sense to you?" The thought of taking these books away from Hellmantle crossed his mind, but how?

"So then do you think you're _rational?_ " The question remained untouched for some time before Hellmantle answered:

"You mean you think I'm a _little short of salt in the brain-pan?_ That's funny, but I probably am. No matter. As long as I keep my business in front of me, my dear _Sancho Panza_ , I shall be moving forward with my quest." Acting as both friend and minister of the spirit, D'Aqs took issue with him gently as would a doctor to a mental patient.

# Chapter 7

_About the brave Hellmantle's success on his adventure_

to Baguio City worthy of happy memory

## שּ

Christmas morning Hellmantle led the way to St. Anthony's Church in the middle of old Angeles City. It was busy with Christmas Day celebrations.

"Interesting," said D'Aqs, whispering behind the back pews. "Like that church in San Fernando, this church also has a lot of emphasis on the Virgin Mary. Look at the sculptures and the symbols. It's so...so-"

" _Female-centric_."

"Yes, that's it."

"That's because Spain was one of the countries that kept a strain of the untainted message of Jesus. The best example was the Cathars who lived in Spain on the coast of the Bay of Lyon."

"I think I remember that. Weren't they massacred by Rome?"

" _Indeed they were_. Since most of Spain had been taken over by the Moors in 711AD, there was a coming-together of ideas from Africa, the Middle East as well as from Europe. And so _Gnosticism_ flourished, among other things like mathematics."

"Yes, Algebra comes from the Arabs doesn't it?"

" _Indeed it does_. _Algebra_ , like the word _alcohol_ , is an Arabic word. The Gnostic beliefs of the Cathars were much closer to the original message of Jesus so this made them too much of a threat to Rome's power so the Pope decided to _wipe them out_."

"Yes, I remember that."

"And one of the beliefs was the reverence of women, the _creators of life_ , like most pagan religions before Christianity. Rome de-emphasized the importance of women when they _tampered_ with His message. For example they invented the idea that Mary Magdalene was a prostitute. She was actually from a noble family."

"But Islam also doesn't revere women." Hellmantle slouched his shoulders.

" _Au contraire_ my cousin," he said. "I suppose you're not aware that in Islam if you say a prayer for your father you must say the same prayer twenty-five times for your mother."

"Are you kidding me?"

" _D'Aqs!_ " Some people in the last pews looked at them. "I never _kid_ about religion. It's a _serious beefcake!_ " Startled, D'Aqs said he was sorry. "You know, it behooves you to read all religious materials to have a better grasp of how many religions overlap. You'll see most fundamentally believe in the same monotheistic God. They just differ on the details." Fire in his eyes.

"I suppose you're right."

"In the same story of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, the Quran says both Adam and his wife Eve ate from the tree, whereas the woman gets the blame in the Bible. Both Books give due time to describe a good wife, but what sticks in my mind from all of it is a line from the Quran: It is better to marry a slave who is a believer than a good woman who does not believe."

"Anyway, if you notice there is a lot of emphasis on the Virgin Mary rather than Jesus Himself in the churches here built by the Spaniards."

"I have. It's obvious."

"Spain has kept that belief, that Jesus was a prophet and not the _Son of God_. Subtle and smart, they let it be known through symbols they carved into their churches. It was at a church called _Santiago de Compostela_ in Gallicia that remained the center for Nazarene thought for centuries in direct opposition to Rome. In fact I have met some modern-day members of an ancient order that originate from this church: the _Order of Santiago_ – in or English it would be the _Order of Saint James_. It was on par with the _Knights Templar_ and the _Order of the Hospitallers_."

"Never heard of Santiago de Compostela."

"In most churches here Jesus is shown as the Christ child instead of the hacked up and bleeding martyr."

" _Hacked up?_ " Hellmantle ignored him.

"It was near the Cathar stronghold on the southeast coast of Spain in Rennes-le-Chateau where the authors of that book _Holy Blood, Holy Grail_ found the scroll in a church column that started this whole movement to expose the Catholic Churches' efforts to suppress Jesus' untainted teachings. It has ushered in a new period in history to expound what the _Prior de Sion_ and the _Blonde Acquitaine_ secret societies have known all along. The massacre of the Cathars and then the Spanish Inquisition just reinforced the societies to keep a low profile until the time was right in world history to reveal what they know. Now is the time in world history to inform the public of this other world, a different way of looking at events. That is why we are destined to find the _Dutch Padre_. So _chin up man!_ " Worried about the bite in his eyes, D'Aqs kept quiet. They remained at the back of the church listening to the Spanish sermon until Hellmantle gave his cousin a nod, leaving without disturbing the worshippers. Hellmantle was too itchy to find church with the rouge-colored bell tower.

Ω

The heat and dust in Angeles City were enough to choke even the most hardened traveler, but after riding roads with deep divots and crumbled pavement they reached the entrance of Clark Air Force Base just before the expressway. Ignoring a sign forbidding motorcycles, they cruised down the main street past barracks bare and looted, with shattered windows and peeling paint. Tremendous waste. Ghosts stirred in the wind.

Riding was smooth as when moved north on Macarthur Highway, soon coming into range of Mount Pinatubo that had its moment of glory ten years ago. Without warning Hellmantle turned off the highway flying along the paved road ahead of D'Aqs past once fertile plains until finding an old trail that ran along a dried-up river. Mile after mile riding towards Pinatubo, D'Aqs tasted the thrill of wide-open spaces on the foothills of the huge volcano. Sky blue, sun hot, and air fresh, he and Hellmantle hurled over the grass trail approaching the steep ascent of the massive mound of rock, breathtaking. Until they hit ash, sluggish and loose under the wheels. The gray ash was just like sand, forcing them to downshift. Hellmantle tried to persevere but the molten ash was too deep.

"Did you see the land we passed?" No one around for miles.

"I did notice that."

"Lots of fields but no production," said Hellmantle. "Use to be called the _rice bowl_ of the Philippines."

"Now covered in ash."

"From what I remember a typhoon hit the area right after Pinatubo erupted that covered the land with ash and rivers turned to mud that flooded the plains. Over a thousand people died and over a million people were displaced."

"Harsh."

"Yeah. It was the biggest volcanic eruption of the 20th century."

It felt like motorcycling on the moon when they hit the road again across the rice bowl, now a wasteland of volcanic ash. Riding the wave of freedom on the volcano's foothills, Hellmantle thirsted to make the most of this adventure. Rather than just follow the road and stop at churches with bell towers like a Sunday tourist, he wanted to squeeze as much toothpaste of the tube as he could while they were in the Philippines. Passing through _Mabalacat_ they saw a _Kamikaze_ memorial, where the Japanese organized the first kamikaze group in 1944 called the _Shimpu Special Attack Corps_ , and then through _Urdaneta_ and over the bridges of _Dagupan City_ until the cousins reached the Cordillera Mountain Range, the backbone of Luzon. The higher they climbed, the cooler the temperature, so they stopped at the side of the road where T-shirts and shorts gave way to denims and jackets and gloves.

"I had a taxi driver once tell me there is gold buried up here in these mountains," said Hellmantle. "He was certain that the rumors of the Japanese burying their gold at the end of the war was true. Didn't want the Americans to take it from them." Gesturing to the mountains around them, he raised his eyebrows. "They say there are hidden tunnels built by the Japanese in the area. Of course that stirs my Norman sensibilities."

Shantytowns now without any sign of Spanish presence, palm trees fewer with pine trees becoming the dominant tree, air crisp as a dry spruce, after hours riding up the mountains Baguio City appeared around a corner along a ridge that encircled a wide saucer-shaped hill, like a natural Roman Coliseum. Cool mountain air smelled of cedar ponderosa pine, a striking contrast to choking city smog that hung like a noose over Manila. No chaos here; only the feeling of calm, protected from the poverty of the south.

Down the main street past the turn-of-the-century façades of buildings that lined the sidewalks, it was quaint and sunny untouched by the hand of time. Like a small town in Colorado, it was the American choice of retreat from the oppressive temperatures of the city. Houses luxurious and spacious, with well-paved roads, an American haven in a country with very few havens.

"For some reason I had always been skeptical about its notoriety as the pre-eminent destination for heads of state and the wealthy," said Hellmantle, "but now, being here, I can immediately see why. It's steeper here than the streets of San Francisco and warmer than Aspen, and it smells of the Swiss Alps and has the quaintness of a town in upstate New York. Now it makes sense to me why it was the sight of Japan's last stand. And it's fitting that the Allied victory over Axis aggression was forever marked on this soil."

"The only thing missing are cars with ski racks. It's like a sleepy ski town in the Rocky Mountains." In front of Baguio Cathedral the air blew from peak to peak, wafting like a medicine carrying the hidden tonic for all forms of cardiovascular ailments. Dusty and tired, they decided to stay over in Baguio. Maybe it was his bruised shin or his sore nose, but from his body language D'Aqs guessed _Grail Adventurer Extraordinaire_ was in pain. D'Aqs was slouched on his bike in need of rest for a few hours too.

Later at their hotel, D'Aqs found Hellmantle drinking hot tea reading his maps.

"Let's go native up the _Halseema Mountain Trail_."

"Isn't that the old trail that the American missionaries took?"

"It is. It leads right to the rice terraces."

"And to your woman in Sagada I see."

"Yes, that too. Very important to see her."

"Is it rideable?"

"It should be with our bikes. You seem to know what you're doing on yours and I'm _certainly very fine_ with my own abilities so why not? It should save us some time, which we don't have a lot of if we're going right around the perimeter of the island. Otherwise it'll be a bit boring taking the newer highway up to Sagada."

His zeal to serve his family in honor, and his deep belief in the Holy Grail had given Roland Hellmantle a grounded sense of who he was; the world could not hand him enough adventure, he was an individual born for a Crusade. It was because of this that D'Aqs agreed to take the _Halseema Mountain Trail_ 130 kilometers north to Bontoc via Sagada through the heart of the Cordillera Mountains.

It is at this point that the original chronicler ends his account of the Great Hellmantle of Normandy, but in my efforts to recover lost material hence not found in the canon, a missing journal was found in an archive. It is true that the original chronicler believed there were records not yet found because of the accurate account thus far rendered from the papers of the journey, and with heaven's help the reader how has the lost account of the trials and stations in their trek up the _Halseema Mountain Trail_ , and it will be narrated in the second part.

SECOND PART

Ω

# Chapter 8

_In which the courageous Hellmantle of Normandy journeys north_

into the Cordillera Mountain Range

## Baguio City, Benguet Province

## רּ

As we have seen in our first record, we left the truth-seeking Hellmantle and his missionary cousin D'Aqs Grosseteste slumbering in Baguio City, planning to take the old missionary trail north to Sagada. For Hellmantle to live life was like riding a motorcycle from one place in time to another place taking any route he wished, never afraid to adhere to his sense of chivalry to find his woman in the far reaches of Sagada. Many take the straight flat and fuel-efficient way straight to their destination on the horizon traveling only six hours a day whereas some choose a varied and meandering route, tropical and mountainous with valleys of hidden treasures along the way. After all, the road on a motorcycle was for Hellmantle a line of revelation. At all events the second part began like this:

Hopping on his motorcycle in the morning without the restriction of a helmet gave Hellmantle a profound sense of freedom, like an intoxicant flowing through his veins. He rubbed his shin, the same bone that had been so fiercely kicked some days before, then eased the throttle out, bolting away from D'Aqs. He felt the urge to take his bike off road along the apron of the steep mountain range, similar in cut to the Rocky Mountains. Despite its size the smooth grass surface from a distance made them look friendly to the eye, his CR250 motorbike ideal to tackle the terrain. It was difficult to mask his thrill of taking the trail, also known as the _Great Mountain Trail_ , a name given for its importance as a link to the Eighth Wonder of the World. He regarded the other highway as _antithetical_ to the spirit of his motorcycle journey, thirsting instead for a challenge, not an unadventurous _point-and-shoot_ road. For D'Aqs the _Halseema Mountain Trail_ was the hallowed route of his professional brethren, a Holy Pilgrimage where missionaries had once braved the elements and preached in these distant lands.

With persistent drizzle and rain gear on, the two cousins weaved through isolated mountain villages peppered with small huts, the few Jeepnies they encountered tore down the road with no regard for the dirt-bikers. Then they hit unpaved road: loose stones covering a slippery surface of rock carved out of the mountainside. Believing that most of the _Halseema Mountain Trail_ was paved, they took the first stretch like a hiccup along the way.

With D'Aqs following timidly, his face showing alarm, Hellmantle bounced and slid from bump to rock over water-filled potholes and streams that crossed the trail. The trail scared D'Aqs but thrilled Hellmantle as they moved north towards Sagada into the low-lying clouds, shin-deep puddles soon soaking legs and feet. Hours of traversing the mountainsides, with his face showing determination and ease, it grew colder the higher he climbed deeper into the interior. He was in his element slaying gravity and overcoming rocks that tried to trip him with precipitous drops that flanked both sides of the road where no guardrail protected the careless motorist. Some moments Hellmantle literally caught his breath looking down the ridges. Numerous times D'Aqs was forced to flirt with the cliff-side because of the grain of the trail, but not Hellmantle. Fear of losing control of his high-revving dirt bike was not on the forefront of his mind; concentration on the _art of riding_ took center stage, extremism of all sorts veiled under butterscotch-and-ripple hair.

Due to the slippery conditions on the rocks causing them to slow their pace, it was soon clear they wouldn't be able to reach Sagada. With clouds becoming thicker, D'Aqs feared that they could be stranded on the trail after dark. Hellmantle pulled over to the edge of the road falling away into an abyss of dark green. He had a smoke and surveyed his unmatchable geography as he waited for D'Aqs.

"It's spectacular," he said to his cousin when he arrived.

"We haven't passed one vehicle in hours." D'Aqs studied his hands, red blisters forming, his feet soaking wet while Hellmantle savored nature's beauty.

"I know we're close to _Mount Pulag_. It's the highest point in the Philippines. I think we're over two kilometers above sea level." Shacks on the slopes below vied for the last rays of sun in an open-air theater dotted with caves.

"I cannot even count the number of times I almost fell. This is not what I expected."

"Never is from my experience. Let's stop in the next town and see if there's an inn."

" _Inn?_ " D'Aqs faced his fear, and tried to tighten his collar as he looked at Hellmantle's scarf with envy.

"Well, you know. A place to stay."

"You mean someone's hut?" D'Aqs couldn't suppress a shiver underneath his jacket.

"I thank God I brought my waterproof army boots." He looked at D'Aqs footwear, soaked and covered with mud.

With stronger winds, nightfall was only a half hour away. Hellmantle led the way north along the rocky path, highlander tribes not hiding their interest at the two Normans scaling their mountains, children sitting under wooden roofs waving at the cousins riding the barren rock-strewn trail. Inhospitable terrain was the cause of their isolation, and with the road so difficult to ride, traffic was non-existent. Just as darkness fell they saw a church spire poking up to heaven at a village. Warming his heart to see it, Hellmantle turned down the dirt road where he parked his motorcycle. Made of concrete and weathered from the elements, the church was closed, which surprised him considering it was two days after Christmas. Walking to a little office beside the church without waiting for D'Aqs, he entered a warm foyer with handcrafted pine outlining several rooms. He heard footsteps upstairs and a nun appeared on the stairs. She must have heard his motorcycle boots.

"Good evening," said the nun, middle aged with a kind face. "How may I help?" She had the tranquil voice nurtured by the Holy Spirit.

"Ah, we were wondering if you could tell us when the church was built?" he asked, just as D'Aqs came in. Her eyes were attentive from behind her thick eyeglasses. Hellmantle he saw her take in his windblown hair, muddy boots, and his face covered in dirt.

"Built?"

"You see, we're looking for a Dutch missionary who may have come through these parts sometime after 1954." Hellmantle removed his beret with a smile, encouraged her to say more about the church.

"Oh let me see." She looked up at a plaque on the wall above the doorway. "Father Albert de Rheume opened the parish in 1908 and was here until 1912," she said, pointing at the wall and looking proud as pie at this fact. "Here's a list on the wall." Stepping towards the oak desk at the entrance, he read the list keeping his eye open for a Dutch missionary:

BRIEF HISTORY OF ATOK-SAYANGON MISSION

FR. ALBERT DE RHEUME1908-1912

FR. LEON QUINTELIER1912-1916

FR. SERAFIN DEVESSE1916

FR. JOSEPH DESAMBER1916-1921

FR. HONORE DAVID1921-1924

FR. MAURICIO DE BRABANDERE1924-1934

FR. GEORGE HANTSON1934-1935

FR. JUAN PELSSERS1935

FR. ANDRES MARQUES1936-1937

FR. JUAN DEKKER1938

FR. WILLIAM BRASSEUR1938-1945

FR. VALERE VANDERDONCK1945-1946

FR. ALBERTO BILLIET1946-1952

FR. JOHN RIJPMA1952-1962

FR. LEO VANDE WINKLE1962-1963

FR. JOHN RIJPMA1963-1964

FR. MAURICIO LIDWIND1964-1975

FR. JOSE WATERSHOOT1975-

D'Aqs shook his head, amazed at so many Europeans who had lived in such a remote place, so far away from the turbulent wars of the twentieth century, right up to Father Watershoot.

"Who is _that?_ " Hellmantle asked, pointing to an enlarged black-and-white photograph on the wall beside the list of names, which D'Aqs was reading with open-eyed wonder.

"Father _Vande Winkle_ who was here in 1962 when I was a girl." She admired the image of the missionary standing in is long white robe as if he were a savior from another planet. With close-cropped sandy hair, spectacles, and weather-beaten boots that could be seen peeking out from under his white robe, he held his posture straight with his hands clasped behind his back, speaking. The villagers looked at him with reverence.

"He was loved by the people," she said, looking deeply into Hellmantle's eyes. "He's remembered for saving souls and for speaking _Ibaloy_ dialect and making songs, and teaching and caring for the sick after the war." Hellmantle took a step closer to the portrait and noticed on the wall beside it a small watercolor of a cross in a field with a scroll hanging from the right arm of the cross. In the silence Hellmantle read it aloud:

You did not choose me,

I chose you.

"That was what he always used to say to his flock," she said, wistful and slow. He stepped closer to the nun as the rain became more robust.

"Only here for one year?"

"Yes. He was one of the main reasons I became a nun." It looked like she might be in her fifties, but it was difficult to tell with her ruddy mountain cheeks.

"Why was he here only one year?" asked D'Aqs, seeing what Hellmantle was getting at.

"He filled in for Father Rijpma when he had to return to Europe for a personal matter. So he was posted here for a year, then returned to the old church he loved." He glanced at Hellmantle.

"Where was he from? The Netherlands?"

"Holland I think. He worked very hard during his stay. He baptized almost every baby born through the valley."

"Where was his posting after 1963, do you know?" Hellmantle took another step closer to the nun.

"It was on the west coast, I think," she answered, motioning to the northwest with her hand. "He loved the church." A soft, dreamy look appeared in her eyes. Nothing could be heard in the mountain village except for wind and splattering rain.

"Did it have a large red bell tower?" Hellmantle raised his right eyebrow. She laughed and said she didn't know.

"Would you know of a restaurant nearby or a hotel?" D'Aqs was just about to rephrase his question when she answered.

"Rooms? Yes. Just down the street. They serve food and have rooms."

"It's not too far?" His shaky voice betrayed his shivering.

"Very close. I take you." Disappearing for a minute, she returned to the foyer wearing a raincoat and carrying an umbrella, ready to show the wet motorcyclists the way.

Outside, the pines and the steep mountainsides made it feel like Switzerland.

"It's very windy here," D'Aqs said, when they were walking outside.

"The valley is very deep," she replied. "Sayangan is one of the oldest mountain villages in the Cordillera Mountains." The rain aggressive, valley winds had picked up, making it feel on the verge of freezing rain. The nun led the way down a dirt path past a school and around a corner where they stopped at a café on the main road. A mother and daughter behind the counter washing dishes and preparing to close for the night stared at their muddy countenance when they entered.

Just before the Good Sister left, she handed D'Aqs an old booklet titled _Fortes in Fide et Amore._

"There are some photos of priestly life in Sayangan you may enjoy seeing," she said with a kind smile.

# Chapter 9

_About what happened to Hellmantle in the mission in the_

mountains and the crucifixion of Jesus

## Sayangan, Mountain Province

## קּ

The mother and daughter served them a large chicken dinner with a number of bottles of San Miguel beer and then left for the night half an hour later, leaving the fridge unlocked and packed with cold beer. They ate as if they hadn't touched food for weeks, Hellmantle quaffing the _liquid bread_ like a sponge. Upstairs D'Aqs eased back on his cot in the corner of the room stretching his weary legs, and flipping through the booklet with blistered hands. Hellmantle had a smoke sitting at desk in front of a big window overlooking the storm brewing in the valley, hunched over a map without his eyeglasses in the dim light.

"This is the highest church in the Philippines," he said finally, lifting his head from the map.

"You mean closest to God."

"Yes! _Closest to God!_ "

"This booklet is full of things said during the ordination process," he said, looking at Hellmantle with interest. "It records what was said during the ordination of someone by the name of Reverend Elpido D. Silug."

"Unfortunate name." Hellmantle grunted, keeping his eyes on D'Aqs.

"On the opening page it says:

The Times Are Bad.

You Are There To Make It Better.

A Wise Man Will Make More Opportunities Than He Finds.

You Are The One Path To Lead Others To Find The Path,

You Are Chosen! Carry On!

Hellmantle took a sip of his beer and sighed.

"I like this one:

Not In Our Heads

But In Our Hearts

Lies The Strength

That Carries Us

Unto Great Deeds.

"And following the heart theme:

God Is A Friend Who Knows The Song

In Your Heart Who Will Sing It Back

To You When You Have Forgotten The Words.

The night air between gusts was quiet when Hellmantle asked for the booklet. D'Aqs gave it to him with the same page open. He read:

You are the greatest of all God's earthy creations.

Now, make the most of your wonderful gifts.

Rouse your mind and discover the powers that God has given you.

When the winds calmed down, Hellmantle could hear a waterfall from behind the café. Perhaps the air was a bit thin here in the mountains because with the amber nectar and the rev of the engine still in ears, the booklet struck a chord. He went on:

God's chosen are not only a glory to His name.

They are grace and blessing to His people.

"It says here the priest reads these words to a newly ordained priest and to the people there in attendance:

A young man lives in the future,

An old man lives in the past;

For youth, time is moving too slowly,

For the aged, time is moving too fast.

A young man dreams of the glory

The before him will bring;

An old man dreams of the timelessness

When life held the magic of spring.

No matter how young or how old

The present alone can convey,

The only time we can harvest

Our blessings as fortunes unfold.

Therefore, once and for all, this short command is given to you:

Love and do what you will;

If you keep silent, keep silent by love;

If you speak, speak by love;

If you correct, correct by love;

If you pardon, pardon with love.

Let love be rooted in you,

And from the root nothing but good can grow.

"I like that one." A strange tingling sensation rippled up D'Aqs' spine that produced a shiver right from his center.

"That was written by our Dutch friend Vande Winkle," said Hellmantle, face flushed, something stirring within him. "He was here just after the Battle of _Dien Bien Phu_."

"Yes, I noticed that. Do you remember that guy Barnes in the next grade?"

Yeah, the tall gut, always had a _purpose_."

"I know what you're saying. Well he died during that NATO war against Serbia. He became a pilot."

"That's a shame; a _real shame_." Hellmantle thought if those early mornings he used to get out to bed to sneak into the library to do work, and Barnes was there, quiet but with purpose. He and his twin brother used to laugh about the _Barnian porpoise_ and the firm step he had inherited from his ancestors, Barnes being a descendent of one of the main men in the Sixth Crusade, the last the most terrible of all the Crusades.

"One of the few Canadians to be shot down." Hellmantle sighed.

"You probably know this but the ordination ends with:

You are a priest forever in the order of Melchizedek.

Psalm 110, verse 4.

Wasn't _Melchizedek_ one of the _Three Wise Men_ who were present at the birth of Jesus?"

"Yes, I believe so." He put the booklet down and closed his eyes, exhausted from the ride.

"He was a _Magi_ , part of the _West Manasseh Magi_ – a priestly caste of Samaritan philosophers headed by the disciple Simon Zelotes, who was also known as _Simon Magus_ , or _Simon the Magi_."

"Simon Magus? The disciple?"

"That's right. He was known as the greatest _Magi_ of his day, and was the oldest and most socially prominent disciple to follow Jesus. The word Magi being the root word of the word we know today as _magic_. Compare being the head of the ancient Magi to Peter and Andrew who were fishermen." That look of surety came over Hellmantle again. "You know, the lion and the unicorn, the arrows and the oak leaves, he ended up dying in Britain. Simon Magus was also the disciple who revived Jesus after his crucifixion with a hundred pounds worth of myrrh and aloes, after he had put Jesus to sleep on the crucifix with the sponge spiked with snake venom. He was the _agent provocateur_ to ensure Jesus survived the cross." D'Aqs looked down for a moment, deep breath calming him for the maelstrom about to be unleashed.

"Can you explain to me why you think Jesus survived the crucifixion?"

"If you lend me your Bible I will, but are you sure you want to?" D'Aqs took out his Bible and handed it to Hellmantle.

"No I'm not sure but I do want to hear what you have to say, just...just _be gentle_."

"Did he die on the cross? How many times have I asked myself that question? But how could he have died on the cross is the better question to ask. The crucifixion happened on a Friday. Then the disciple Simon Zelotes gave Jesus the sponge with 'gall and vinegar' just before Jesus passed out. Indeed it is believed that the gall and vinegar was actually _snake venom_ , which is like taking a serious Valium in today's parlance. So it _looked_ like Jesus was dead, but he was just severely drugged."

"So you think there was some...tampering."

"Yes, there was some _serious tampering_. But the bottom line here is that how can a 37 year-old man, who spent his time walking and moving around the towns and the countryside preaching, have expired so quickly? He wasn't stabbed deeply nor did he have his legs broken. By the way, how does a man die on a crucifix?"

"He- Um, he dies of dehydration? That's strange, I never thought about it."

"The way someone dies on a crucifix is when he has his legs broken, he suffocates to death. But if you remember the Romans didn't break Jesus' legs. Only the guys beside him." D'Aqs nodded, knowing this was plain to read in all four gospels. "So He was given a slice with a blade and bled in the abdomen but that wasn't enough to kill a grown man in good physical shape. That poke or slice was administered to see if he was still alive but he was conked out from the snake venom concoction given to him by Simon Magus. The ugly holes in his hands and feet didn't kill Him, nor did the cuts around His forehead from the Crown of Thorns. It was James, his younger brother, who is known in history as Joseph of Arimathea, who demanded the dead-looking, unconscious Jesus be taken down from the cross on the Sabbath – which happened to be the next day at daybreak – because it was part of the Jewish law not to have unburied dead on the Sabbath. James actually held up the scriptures to the Roman guards and demanded Jesus be buried immediately according to Jewish custom. It was because they stirred up this _ruckus_ to bury Him on Saturday morning that they were able to get Jesus off the cross alive.

"According to the story, he was revived by Simon Magus with aloe and myrrh and used these ingredients as a diuretic and purge. Once revived, Jesus then left the tomb on his brother's property. His tomb was discovered empty but this was after he left on his own two feet. Think about it: what better way to drop out of a failing rebellion than by being presumed dead? And he dies a martyr. So some time later, when the dust has settled he leaves Palestine."

"Why though? Why would He do that?"

"To fulfill the prophecies of the coming of the New Messiah. All the Hebrews were waiting and expecting Him. And since Jesus was from the Royal Line, why wouldn't He?"

"I don't know. It's all a little far-fetched."

"Not if you think it through. Ask yourself why He rode into Jerusalem on an ass rather than walk?" D'Aqs shrugged his shoulders. "To fulfill what was written in the Book of Isaiah. It's clear in the New Testament how Jesus as a young man spent so much time in the synagogue reading the Torah and lecturing the scribes and rabbis! He knew the first five books of the Old Testament like the back of His hand! He designed it so He would fulfill the prophecy by riding into Jerusalem on an ass after gathering His disciples, and after He was baptized by his cousin John the Baptist in the River Jordan."

"And the miracles? How did He walk on water?" Compassion appeared in Hellmantle's eyes as if he were looking at a neophyte.

"Walking on water is not literal. It means _applying your knowledge_. The New Testament is _loaded_ with metaphors and parables because at the time Rome was breathing down the neck of the Hebrews. Rome conquered them in 70AD after the failed rebellion from 66 to 70. And as you know the New Testament was written way after 70AD."

"And miracles, like bringing Lazarus back from death?"

"The resurrection of Lazarus was not literal either. It was the _spiritual rebirth_ of Lazarus. But His ability to heal I think was learned during what is known as the Lost Years of Jesus, after His Bar mitzvah when He left Palestine when He was thirteen years old. It is believed He went to India and learned the ways of his Indo-European ancestors." D'Aqs hadn't moved an inch since Hellmantle had begun on this tangent.

"Yeah, something like that. Listen, there's obviously a lot of historical inertia at play in this discussion. The Catholic Church has decided what happened so this chat is essentially _mute_."

"But it doesn't stop us from speculating what actually happened."

"That's my point. There's no way of _knowing_."

"But from diligent research and studying the canon one can certainly have an _informed opinion_ that can be defended by _rational argument_." D'Aqs threw up his hands.

"So then what do you think really happened?" Hellmantle took a big swallow of the amber liquid, and sat up in his chair happy to have a chance to say his piece.

"I think Jesus was strong as nails actually, not weak, meek and humble. Likely ticked off that He wasn't accepted by the ruling Pharisees because of He wasn't born in September, I think He was a rebel and zealot, which is why He had so many zealots as disciples, like Judas Iscariot. He was the most fervent zealot. ' _Iscariot_ ' means _he who uses the knife_ , a known rebel group at the time. Jesus must have had tested _mettle_ from all the walking, traveling and preaching He did. I bet that when He was put up on the cross, He was a man with firm and able muscle and clean lungs so when He took those spikes through the wrists and feet, adrenaline was high and man's great instinct to survive kicked in. He didn't die of thirst in less than 24 hours. He didn't die from a thin blade slice in his side, which as I said was likely a token swipe from a handy Roman guard to see if he was alive. It was barely deep enough to draw blood. And he didn't asphyxiate because when the Roman guards came around to break the legs of those on the cross, Jesus was spared because he _looked dead_. But he was merely unconscious from Simon Magus's potion." He opened the Bible in his hands.

"In John's Gospel they describe it:

Then the Jewish authorities asked Pilate to allow them to break the legs of the men who had been crucified, and to take the bodies down from the crosses. They requested this because it was Friday, and they did not want the bodies to stay on the crosses on the Sabbath, since the coming Sabbath was especially holy. So the soldiers went and broke the legs of the first man and then of the other man who had been crucified with Jesus. But when they came to Jesus, they saw that he was already dead, so they did not break his legs.

"At about three o'clock Jesus cries out with a loud shout: ' _Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?_ ' which means, 'My God, my God, why did you abandon me?' Some people standing there heard him, and said: 'He is calling for Elijah.' It is here that one of them ran up with a sponge soaked in cheap wine, put it on an end of a stick and gave it to Jesus to drink. Others said: 'Wait, let us see if Elijah is coming to save him.' Then Jesus gives out a loud cry and breathes his last.

"So Joseph of Arimathea, who was actually James His younger brother and James the disciple, took Him, wrapped Him in a new linen sheet, and placed Him in a tomb on his _family's property._ The tomb was apparently recently dug out of solid rock." Hellmantle lit a cigarette and leaned closer to the Bible. "It says:

When it was evening, a rich man from Arimathea arrived; his name was Joseph, and he also was a disciple of Jesus. He went into the presence of Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus. Pilate gave orders for the body to be given to Joseph.

"The next day, _which was a Sabbath_ , the chief priests, or _rabbis_ , and the Pharisees meet with Pilate and decide to make the tomb as secure as possible to guard against Jesus rising from the dead. They seal the tomb but it is unclear whether they see the body of Jesus when they seal it."

"You would think so."

"It isn't mentioned _specifically_."

"So that cheap wine, or snake venom, knocks Him out like a sleeping potion for...how long again did you say?"

"That was Friday evening. Right before Jesus drinks the 'wine' when He's on the cross, in John's gospel, it says:

Jesus knew that by now everything had been completed; and in order to make the scripture come true, Jesus said: 'I am thirsty.' A bowl was there, full of cheap wine; so a sponge was soaked in the wine, put on a stalk of hyssop, and lifted up to his lips. Jesus drank the wine and said: 'It is finished!' Then he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.

"Being an expert at potions and medicines, Simon Magus slips Jesus a very strong tonic, which as you can see is mentioned in the Gospels. Drinking the potion from the Magi knocks Him unconscious but ultimately saves His life."

"If Simon Magus supplied Jesus with some sort of potion that was strong enough to render him out of it, so much that he could feign death, it must have been pretty strong."

" _Very limp body for a day."_

"He would have had to be unconscious to feign death," said D'Aqs.

"There's no way he could _pretend_ to be unconscious."

"So what about the other two Gospels? What do they say about drinking this wine?"

"In Mark it says the wine was ' _mixed with a drug called myrrh_.' In Luke it says the wine was given to Jesus by Roman soldiers. But what's interesting about Luke is what the two angels tell the two Marys after they discover his empty tomb:

Why are you looking among the dead for one who is alive? He is not here; he has been raised. Remember what he said to you while he was in Galilee: The Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, be crucified, and three days later rise to life.

"That's pretty blatant language isn't it? Now, doesn't that read differently, as if He had it all planned? And note the ' _Son of Man'_ reference." Hellmantle snuck a long sip of his beer and went on:

"Luke and John have the most suggestive endings in the Gospels in my opinion. Luke has a unique account of Jesus after leaving the tomb. In this story it is Sunday and just after He has spoken to the two Marys – so He hasn't seen His disciples yet. He meets two of his followers on the road about seven miles from Jerusalem, who don't recognize Jesus. They talk of the crucifixion but only come to recognize Jesus at night as they eat dinner. The way I see it, Jesus woke up and then left Jerusalem and bumped into these guys by accident.

"And when he does finally see his disciples, they are terrified. He says to them:

Why are you alarmed? Why are these doubts coming up in your minds? Look at my hands and my feet, and see that it is I myself. Feel me, and you will know, for a ghost doesn't have flesh and bones, as you can see I have.

"It reads like he's still very much alive," said D'Aqs, surprised at this re-reading of the New Testament.

" _Exactly!_ " Hellmantle enthused at his cousin's change of attitude. "Then he tells them he is _hungry_. Since when did Holy Spirits say they are hungry and _ask for food?_ "

"Good point."

" _Spirits are never hungry!_ "

"So then Jesus leaves and sends his directives to his disciples?" said D'Aqs, exasperated and becoming cranky.

"Not quite. He commits to His faked crucifixion, retires from the Messiah business and lets history take over."

There was too much on the table, and D'Aqs rubbed his head to try to alleviate the growing pain in his temples. The wind whistled across the windowpanes, but after the gust there was only silence in peace and good fellowship.

# Chapter 10

## Concerning Hellmantle of Normandy in the land of the head-hunters

## צּ

D'Aqs enjoyed the pungent smell wafting up from a freshly poured cup of coffee in front of him, but his mind was busy. To honestly consider that Jesus survived the crucifixion had left him tossing and turning all night. He had to admit to himself that he had never considered it as a real possibility but now, having given it some thought, he wanted to remain open-minded to see how much there was to this theory.

In the meantime they ate a plate of twelve cold fried eggs stacked on top of each other. This, and the five cups of coffee he had consumed, appeared to have an effect on Hellmantle, making him philosophical about his mission.

"When one has earned a certain _crystallization of knowledge_ and has attained an _exceptional degree of life experience_ , the only way this body of insight can be delivered and appreciated is by being _objective_. Without an impartial delivery, all spouted knowledge must necessarily be held suspect." D'Aqs listened and sipped his coffee. He couldn't eat cold eggs like his cousin.

"When the young student of history and philosophy is first making their foray into the realm of truth," Hellmantle continued, "subjectivity appeals to their sense of individuality, but as years go by and he hears others spout their own version of history, the young student realizes that only the unbiased voice can hold court. One must present facts as only a _regurgitator_ of what was and what is, without partisan inclination. Otherwise one is rendered a simple propagandist. At times there's an irony at play so that the facts are presented objectively yet the recipient is in a state of disbelief. This is why knowledge experts feel the thrill of study: to _shock the ignorant and unsuspecting_. It enables them, these _impartial deliverers_ , to feel a power that makes all their efforts worthwhile. For the amount of time they have expended harvesting the knowledge of the past, this opportunity to shock and thrill the listener makes the endless solo effort of learning worthwhile."

Some locals were beginning to enter the café but Hellmantle kept eating from the plate of eggs, and spoke thus:

"So a personal journey is a selfish pursuit unless it can be shared, but too often what one acquires through study is only an exercise in solipsism until it can be communicated to the outside world. When one is so rich in knowledge, one has a hidden responsibility to present it to those too occupied with their endeavors to put in the requisite effort. The key is to present without personal proclivity. One must not taint their presentation in order for it to be listened to and taken to heart. To learn the _art of objectivity_ is not easy but it is necessary for all communication."

D'Aqs knew full well what he was referring to. He was about to tell his cousin that he had presented his knowledge objectively last night and that it did shock, but Hellmantle was too absorbed in his eggs and coffee.

Ω

It was still overcast but the view in the morning light was stunning. The ruggedness of the rocky trail prohibited tourists from reaching these heights and enjoy the glory of the Cordilleras, a unique terrain that had been left to nature, free from the exploitation of modernity. It hadn't changed since the time the American missionaries first trekked through the mountains a hundred years before.

After letting the engines warm up for a minute, Hellmantle hit the _Halseema Mountain Trail_ for Sagada thinking it was easily reachable in the course of a day's riding, and half expecting the road to regain its paved sheen. He worked through his aches and pains of yesterday's long ride, particularly his shin, and then stopped for D'Aqs at a sign that read:

HIGHEST POINT IN THE PHILIPPINES

2225 METERS ABOVE SEA LEVEL

"See? I told you," he said to D'Aqs when he caught up. Just as he had said this he took off down the road again. He vacillated between the beauty of the view and the demands of the immediate terrain but it didn't take him long to find his groove in the mountains that gave his heart free range.

Passing alongside an ice-blue reservoir, it was plain to see how high up they were, as if scratching at the rooftop of the world. But despite the surrounding beauty, the _Halseema Mountain Trail_ was still a surface of stone worn away to rock blunted by time and wear. Loose rocks on solid stone with no sand or mud cutting along the mountain slopes was what Hellmantle traversed on his knobby tires, curving around sharp corners hugging a continual precipice. Small waterfalls fell overhead onto the _road_ that created washouts, which caused the most sliding on his bike. Knobby tires had little traction on the wet stone, one of the most challenging of all types of terrain for a motorcyclist. But it was freedom he felt stirring within his breast that trumped his attention. He was on the frontier where the word "civilization" was some obscure and misunderstood term. The view became so breathtaking he almost hit one of the few oncoming Jeepneys.

D'Aqs, who was behind Hellmantle, passed him and then cut him off. He motioned to pull over so they both stopped.

"That was close!"

"He was on my side of the road!" replied Hellmantle.

"Well that's how it is here. There is no sanity on the roads. Be careful cousin. _Jeeze!_ " D'Aqs drank out his water bottle while Hellmantle lit a smoke. The sudden bottleneck with the Jeepney had shaken him up.

"I have never been pushed onto the outer boundary of a road that falls off a precipice as I just was," he said to emphasize how unusual it was for him to have a close brush with death.

Back on their motorcycles Hellmantle took the lead, cross breezes blowing his hair sideways, his helmet dangling below his arm from the strap of his knapsack. They passed a spectacular ridge where the mountainside changed from the east to west that gave Hellmantle of Normandy such delight that he began talking to himself while riding:

"The degree of contentment in man is dependent on the perspective he holds in relation to his present situation. Man has the capability to endure unspeakable hardships in the face of adversity if armed with a perspective that things could be worse. But man is also burdened with the capability to turn heaven into hell by adopting a foolhardy perspective that things _should be better when they are grand_. It is the key to mental health and the secret to enjoying some degree of happiness regardless of circumstance!"

His pace grueling and his arms and legs aching, he pulled over when he found a small hut by the side of the road at the end of a very long stretch of challenging rocks in one of the nameless villages along the trail. Overlooking the Cordillera Mountain Range, he gazed at the tops of the mountains protruding upwards to the blue sky above from the bellies of the clouds.

"Tea," he said to the man under a wooden plank that acted as a roof. The man nodded and served him piping hot sugary tea with thick cream. It was so thick that it was like a food. Then D'Aqs caught up.

"Did you see how the road went from one side of the ridge to the other along that stretch?" he said, not bothering to hide his boyish enthusiasm. "It was like a world balanced atop a middle line elevated a thousand feet above anything on either side of you."

"Yeah, it was good."

" _Good!_ "

"You know what it was? That ledge just after the highest point was _thrilling!_ " Flush on the cheek, cheekbones defined, root-beer-colored hair disheveled, D'Aqs looked like a new man.

" _That's_ the one. With the clouds so low, it was surreal."

"How it shifted from one side of the range to the other with the clouds swirling right on top of your head. That image will stick with me for a long time to come."

"I hear ya on that one _Big Teste_. Yes, it was the kind of imagery that will reappear in dreams." He nodded and sipped his sweet tea, which warmed his center. "It was a _tremendous morsel of motorcycle memory_." D'Aqs was starting to understand his cousin's strange world of motorcycling in far-off vistas looking for the thrill and the unusual.

A dozen hungry-looking Philippinos sitting near the tables tried hard not to stare at them.

"You know about the mountain tribes around here?" asked Hellmantle. He bent his head over the cup of tea to let the hot steam swirl into the back of his raw throat in an attempt to moisten a persistent dry spot.

"No, I don't."

"According to the book, the three main tribes are the _Ifugao_ , _Bontoc_ and _Kalinga_. These are the peoples who built the rice terraces about 2000 years ago. They're warlike _peoples_ who are known to stage ritual attacks on their neighbors in the form of headhunting." He waited for a reaction.

" _Headhunting_." D'Aqs unintentionally deadpan, an effort to keep his voice down.

"For the next hundred kilometer stretch I'm afraid cousin. And some say there have been a few reports that heads are still taken occasionally. It's indeed a novel hazard but alas! We're in headhunting territory man!" D'Aqs tried to dismiss it as unimportant trivia, but still it caused a stir in his gut. Another obstacle missionaries had to overcome.

"Let's just make sure we have enough gas to reach Sagada." He suddenly realized how much he was relying on his motorcycle.

"It's a different animal up here in the mountain valleys than down by the sea. It's real isolation with walls of rock and with only one road to civilization, so _keep sharp_ on that _iron horse_ on yours."

"Will do, _Master Motorcyclist_."

"You watch for natives jumping on us ready with a sharp-edged knife." It was his playful tone that gave rise to D'Aqs heart, which made him think of the words they had read in Sayangan: _Not in our heads but in our hearts lies the strength that carries us unto great deeds._

"Since you're taking the lead today as chief navigator, you should be wielding the big stick." His grin a novel change from his dour demeanor.

" _I always wield a big stick!_ " The self-belief in his eyes comforted D'Aqs for the first time rather than making him uneasy.

Hellmantle gunned it north along the bumpy trail north for Sagada, with D'Aqs now laughing behind him as he rode with hyperbole in front of him.

# Chapter 11

_About the required riding techniques to reach the destination_

of Sagada and the church organist

## Halseema Mountain Trail, Mountain Province

## פּ

Back on the trail after riding alongside a river in a deep valley and around a corner, Hellmantle saw the beginning of the rice terraces. They were leveled rice fields that bordered old stonewalls a few feet high. No one on the fields with no sign of any agrarian activity, most were fallow. Looking down at the small terraces surrounded by jags of open rock, he imagined how they once were like a spider's web in a giant salad bowl.

He and D'Aqs forced themselves along the outer edge of the trail so the times they encountered oncoming Jeepneys they were in position to avoid a head-on crash. Hellmantle developed his own technique by riding along the best available line of movement, like a skier would choose a path through moguls. Where there was no path, he steered to hit the outer edge of every pothole to careen off the indentation in the rock flatbed and shoot out of it ready to turn again back the other way, just as he had done while riding at the foothills of Mount Pinatubo. It was a technique to avoid wear and tear of the bike but also a way of enjoying the dips and grooves in the road. Motorcycling like this was a thrill sport like skiing. And with the wet rock, it was as slippery and dangerous as it could be.

D'Aqs watched his cousin as he trailed behind, how he never hit a pothole directly but rather hit its inner lip. He watched as Hellmantle leaned into a dip and came shooting out of a three-foot wide depression in line to _carom_ off the side of the next big pothole, flinging out of the turn almost in the air. He knew Hellmantle had learned the technique after many thousands of miles of exploring in countries with rough roads, but D'Aqs still thought it was a gift from God. D'Aqs tried it and almost took a spill.

Hellmantle encountered the first road sign since the highest-point-in-the-Philippines sign just outside of Sayangan. After so many hours riding without a sign, it was reassuring to them. D'Aqs had started to wonder if they had missed a turn-off. The lone road sign showed Sagada was within riding distance, but already darkness was beginning to fall. As soon as the sun fell behind the western ridge, they were passing through thick forest on either side of the road. In a split second, the grayness turned to black. When that moment came, a wave a panic struck D'Aqs' solar plexus because there were no other cars on the road or any streetlights to speak of or any sign of civilization. And on top of this, it was a new moon. It was as dark as octopus ink.

Hellmantle knew that one of the best parts of the motorcyclist's day was conquering unknown mountainous terrain in the dark. To see exactly how dark it was, Hellmantle turned off his headlights for a few seconds as he rode. Above the hum of the engines, D'Aqs could hear him laughing. His hysterics soon infected D'Aqs so he copied him. Both stared directly into complete blackness for no reason other than for the thrill. Hellmantle couldn't even see his hand in front of his face. They spent over an hour riding through this sooty coal-black world, flipping their lights on and off, without seeing a soul. Fear began to take hold on D'Aqs' newfound sense of freedom, but Hellmantle was confident that there was a way forward and that God would provide for their safe passage since their quest was a divine endeavor. After another hour the sleepy town of Sagada emerged as a small strip of guesthouses and cafés nestled between mountains.

In no time Hellmantle discovered there was no vacancy because everything was booked for the Christmas holidays. But as he was walking down the main street, he opened a gate to walk up a steep stairwell to what he thought was a bed and breakfast, when a man spoke to him from the top of the stairs.

"Good evening," he said, thinking he was only being friendly, Hellmantle replied:

"Hope there're some rooms available." Hellmantle approached him on the stairs under the light of the house, slow as a limping shin.

"This is a private residence," said the man. Hellmantle, with his most gracious demeanor, apologized for the misunderstanding, and descended the sixty-step stairs, the man following him to the road.

"Try the hospital," he said. "As a last resort they take people in if they have the space."

"Good idea," said Hellmantle, looking down the street. "The _Knights Hospitallers_ providing shelter in case a Christian pilgrim is in need during their way to Solomon's Temple, still in action today."

"And when was this?"

"This would be under the first king _Baldwin the First_. First king of Palestine after the success of the First Crusade. _The only good crusade_."

"And when would that be?"

"1099," said D'Aqs, seeing Hellmantle exhausted and therefore more inclined to go off on a fiery tangent.

"Though I believe the _Knights Hospitallers_ came into existence in 1065, after a large party of German pilgrims were attacked by Arab bandits near Ramla."

The man, intrigued by this bearded motorcyclist, said:

"I'm the organist at the church," he said, pointing across the street. "There's a wedding in the church in the morning. That's where I'm going now. Rehearsal." The Episcopalian church under sprawling trees had a sign on the gate that read:

WELCOME TO THE SAGADA MISSION COMPOUND

Hellmantle thanked him for his kindness, and then they tried their best to find a place, checking all the guesthouses and the few hotels.

"Do you know much about the _Knights Hospitallers?_ " D'Aqs said he didn't, happy to hear Hellmantle's autistic-fueled mouthpiece take possession of certain words that paint ideas like pictures, and like Lego pieces building up in a corner of his brain, finding it difficult to erase from his mind. "Have you heard of our ancestor _Red Mantle?_ He was a king descended from _Joseph of Arimathea's_ line. Our ancestor King Red Mantle wore a red robe with a white cross on it, since he was part of the _Order of St. John of Hospitaller_. The _Knights Templar_ wore the white mantle."

"So why red? As in blood?"

"That's what some say, but the _legend_ says King Red Mantle changed our surname because it symbolized Hell, that described the state of affairs with Rome having so much power during this time when the Merovingian line of kings ended with the murder of _Dagobert the Third_ in 1307."

At the hospital at the edge of town they were confronted with a woman who guarded the hospital like a sentry would a castle. It looked empty but she told them to walk a mile down the road to check one more place.

"Most unhelpful," said Hellmantle, disappointed after conjuring the traditions of long history of helping those in need when on a Holy Mission. But when they found _The Shamrock Café,_ they parked their motorcycles and sat under old wooden shutters with a view of infinite blackness that felt like the edge of the universe.

Famished, they both made a beeline for the massive plate of curry chicken, vegetables with boiled eggs all topped off with the satisfying suds of San Miguel _cerveza_. They were both thirsty.

"Come to think of it, your surname Grosseteste was also changed during the same _zeitgeist_." The pause meaningful because Hellmantle knew for the first time his cousin's interest was sincere."

"Well, what happened? Tell me!"

"Put it this way, none of our ancestors at that point in history were happy about the usurping of Dagobert the long-haired king, so your forefather Godfrey change his name from _Grosjean_ to _Grosseteste_ in an obvious stick it to Rome choice of words. "D'Aqs laughed hard, from the gut, very pleasing to Hellmantle's ears. "I mean think about it! Godfrey said: we have big cajones and we'll breed with the _de Barr_ family and the _Sinclairs_ and keep on _propagating!_ "

"So he changed our name to _Big Testicle!_ "

It was the first time Hellmantle had heard a genuine laugh from D'Aqs since their boarding school years, when he was just as mischievous as Hellmantle, how by default they had both become ringleaders of their dormitory of twelve.

"Major _brownie points_ with the boys of that one!"

"So our name was _Big John?_ "

" _Oui_ , an important family name within Grail lore by virtue of being the unknown true descendants of Jesus' cousin _John the Baptist!_ "

"No way!"

" _Oui monsieur!_ Haven't you ever wondered _why_ you had such a _unique_ last name?"

"Of course, but...but I've never known why."

"Because _you never asked the question_." They both looked out the window into the Great Blackness. "Yes, you're seeing that there is a lot out there unknown in the darkness."

D'Aqs pensive: "Yes, I agree."

"So then your direct ancestor was Elizabeth, Mary's sister!"

"Or Jesus' aunt!"

"Or sister-in-law of Joseph!"

"And what about your first name?"

"It means from Acquitaine."

"Oui, but more precisely it means _of the water_."

"Amazing. You have become an explorer in that darkness. A _connoisseur_ as the French would say."

"Or a _maestro_ as the Spanish would say." he said weakly. Clearly uncomfortable by the compliment, Hellmantle's reaction surprised him.

Sagada became even more surreal when they saw other foreigners for the first time since they left Manila. Two couples sat speaking French to a couple of Frenchmen. D'Aqs saw it rattled Hellmantle's sensitivities, so to drown out their chatter he spoke thus:

"What strikes me as ironic is how some of these big travelers look so adventurous and worldly yet none of them drive here themselves, and if they did, they certainly wouldn't have _motorcycled_ here along the _Halseema Mountain Trail!_ To me they are all lightweights – _tourists_ \- fooled by a hike or a small trek in the mountain forests instead of being true explorers by experiencing the primacy of mountain motorcycling where any miscue could cause permanent disability. _Riding a motorcycle is like shaking hands with your own mortality_. There are no seatbelts on a motorcycle! Earning the right to be in Sagada by utilizing the two-wheeled balance is one toll these tourists haven't paid. These _talcum people_ don't deserve to be here – not like us. We risked our lives to reach this peak. We haven't dropped in on an _overnight flight!_ " Darkness in his voice.

He approached the waitress after the meal to inquire about the German artist he was looking for.

"Um, I'm looking for a girl who told me that I could find her by coming here," Hellmantle said to the manager behind the counter with an abacus. "She told me that she doesn't have a telephone, _señora_." The old woman had a severe face, hard from life but it suddenly came to life with a soft smile when Hellmantle smiled at her with respect.

"What's her name?" she asked, causing Hellmantle to contort his face as if in pain trying to remember. Then he opened his eyes as if he had remembered:

"Her name is...Mich _elle_ ," he said. "Or Isab _elle_ ... or _Anne_ ... or Anna _belle_ ...or... _Anna_ lore...Gabri _elle_ ... _Annabelle!_ Some sort of _elle_. She's from Germany, has long yellow hair and a bit of a ruddy hue on her cheeks I seem to recall. She's perhaps a little shorter than you. She told me she hangs out here. _No telephono_. I believe she's a painter of some kind. _Una artista_." Unsure but making sincere effort to help, then the manager lit up like a firefly.

"Catharine, the _artista? Si! Una painter?_ Is it Catharine?" He remembered immediately hearing her name.

" _Yes!_ " He slammed his hand on the counter much harder than intended. "Catharine! _That's_ it!"

"Some kind of ' _elle_ ,' eh?" D'Aqs said, jousting.

"But Catharine is away."

"No! She _can't_ be!" Hellmantle's disappointment was tangible.

"She is home for Christmas." The woman watched as he let out a long sigh with sub-woofer hear, very sympathetic, which caused her to think.

"Ah! _Pero señor_ , Catharine comes back _mañana_."

"Well _that_ is groovy!"

After eating enough, Hellmantle decided their only option was to sleep at the hospital under the unkind looks of the woman, but as they passed by the Episcopalian church the man with the mansion was walking back from the wedding rehearsal. When he saw Hellmantle in his worked-in leather motorcycle jacket on the road, he asked him if they had found a room.

"Not yet. We are on our way to slumber at the hospital."

"Why don't you stay at my house? It's big enough. My name is Dennis Faustino." He put out his hand and with a smile on his face, Hellmantle couldn't refuse.

# Chapter 12

_In which the German artist is tracked to the Shamrock Café_

and the dangers of the northeast of Luzon Island

## Sagada, Mountain Province

## ףּ

The man named Dennis Faustino took them in, offered them food and opened a bottle of Johnny Walker Scotch. It didn't take them long to learn that he was a music teacher who had become an assistant principal and was on vacation at his place in the mountains. The Faustino mansion was spacious with fresh wood wherever the eye could see. Decorated with tribal art with an Oriental theme in the living room, it was a classic American colonial home complete with the balcony and gardens and matching gazebo.

"I was lucky to finagle the mayor of Sagada to allow the church to lease this property to me _for life_ ," he said. "He made the deal after the big earthquake in 1991 had hit and destroyed parts of the home. So as part of the deal, he fixed it up and added a new back section patio."

"Which is ideal for morning cups of coffee!" Dennis Faustino looked at Hellmantle thinking he was likely exhausted from his journey. He filled Hellmantle's glass.

"Drink up and enjoy your time in Sagada."

When asked about the history of missionaries in the area, he came across as knowledgeable:

"Episcopalian missionaries came here to spread the word of God beginning around 1911. It had taken the missionaries some time to reach the mountain provinces, the only area besides Mindanao that hadn't been converted to Catholicism by the Spanish. I've been all around the island because I went on a one-year tour with the National Theater Group performing internationally. That was after getting my masters and finally my PhD in theater. I held a professorship at the University of Michigan before I returned here to teach music." Dennis Faustino sounded nonchalant about it all because he was bored as Assistant Principal at the Philippino International School. He said he used to also teach drama. But Hellmantle didn't buy it and mumbled under his breath: ' _It's a life for effete courtiers too wimpy to take the step!_ ' He drank the Scotch.

"So when were the Americans active here in Sagada?" asked D'Aqs.

"The Americans had staked their claim to these remote parts and left the church in 1967. That was when it was handed over to the Philippinos. The Episcopalian church became a Philippine entity in 1985." Despite being the local volunteer organ player for the benefit of the mayor, D'Aqs could tell that he was not a terribly religious man.

"Do you ever remember a visiting preacher named _Father Leo Vande Winkle?_ " Hellmantle helped himself to more Scotch.

"He's a Dutchman," added D'Aqs. Dennis Faustino shook his head slowly but then seemed to come to life.

"The Dutchman, yes. He has come through our church a few times when I lived here during the summer years before. When school is on summer vacation he visited with Father Jose at the church. Very nice man but quite old now. I haven't seen him in a while."

"Where is his church, do you know?" Hellmantle spread out his ripped and rain-stained map on the table.

"It's in the west on the coast somewhere is all I know. Close to where people live in trees as I recall," he said with a flourish of his hand, as if a fellow upper-class elite. But Dennis Faustino lost his airs when he squinted at the map and dragged his finger along the coastal highway, from the very north to the south. He was confused by it; Dennis Faustino couldn't read maps.

"That's where we'd like to end up after we take our motorcycles across the high road through Bontoc and over to the east highway up to Aparri and across the north coast to the west coast and down to Manila," said Hellmantle, using his finger to outline the route. Something in Dennis Faustino's demeanor changed.

"Aparri is dangerous," he warned between drags of his cigarette. "It's very dangerous up there. Philippinos from the lowlands don't go up there. It's tribal. They stop you in your car and rob you." The matter-of-factness of his delivery made it feel as if it was common knowledge to which Hellmantle was ignorant.

"It can't be _that_ dangerous," he said, finishing another glass of Scotch and helping himself.

"We call them pirates. I wouldn't take my truck down that road. It's too dangerous for me. For you," motioning to Hellmantle, "with that beard of yours they won't let you pass for nothing." D'Aqs sat up in his chair and had a closer look at the possible routes from Sagada. The only way to the west coast being so far up in the mountains is through the pirate zones, D'Aqs reasoned to himself. This was a journey to be done once, not twice.

"No stone can be left unturned. That is the price that must be paid!"

"But they are angry pirates Hellmantle," Dennis Faustino still not convinced the route was feasible. "If you must go then go with God." Hellmantle perked up.

"Are you a man of the Bible?"

"I read the Bible as literature but not as Holy Scripture," said Dennis. "From numerology and myth to device and end, I am well-versed in general religious history."

"In an age when political ideologies act as a substitute for religious conviction," said Hellmantle, "people today are more _a-religious_ than at any time in world history if you consider the percentages, especially in the Western World."

"You think so?" Dennis Faustino was wading into a storm.

"Many are ignorant of the religions of history."

"Such as?"

"One is obliged to ask the question why is it that the meaning of the word ' _Druid_ ' means ' _knowledge of the oak_.' One is obliged to ask why the Viking religion and spiritual world based in the book _Havamal_ was based on the _Yggdrasil Tree_. One is also obliged to ask why North American Indians regard the Poplar tree as the _Tree of Life_ and the conduit to the Great Spirit, and thus dance around it during a Sundance offering prayer ties to the Creator? Why is there this fundamental similarity when religious scholars studying the migration of Ten Lost Tribes from Jacob's Twelve Tribes of Israel believe that the Celts, the Scandinavians and the North American Indians all come from the Diaspora from 683BC? I believe there is a common footnote. But that's just me."

"Is that so?" Dennis Faustino asked, as they both took swigs from their glasses of Scotch.

"Like _Valhalla_ was to the Vikings what the _Promised Land_ was to the Israelites and what was _La Merica_ was to the old Gauls and Franks, and perhaps like the _Holy Grail_ of the Merovingians, one world religion uniting all in _this_ life is what we're after.

"What's this about _La Merica?_ "

"Yes. _La Merica_ is where the word America comes from."

" _You're mad!_ " said Dennis Faustino, smiling and interested in this odd specimen before him. He was half serious and half amused. "It was named after _Amerigo Vespucci_. So says the textbooks throughout the Western World."

"Welcome to my world, the world _outside textbooks_ in the realm of the suppressed truths. The Israelites called the 'Promised Land' _La Merica_ , which means " _the great place beyond the sea._ " Wouldn't North America be that land? They thought so, and believed they were destined to settle this land according to the many passages in Genesis, thus _Manifest Destiny_. The word _America_ is different than _Amerigo_. It's from _La Merica_. And that's why it was always referred to as the _Promised Land_."

"Is all this true? I know about Jacob's twelve but this other stuff! Are you _sure?_ "

"You're trying to ascertain the legitimacy these facts, whether facts blurred with liberal hermeneutical zeal sprinkled with subjectivity and subconscious political agenda, or objective and clean." Dennis Faustino was now weary of Hellmantle's sanity. To D'Aqs, Dennis Faustino was on the fence whether or not to buy in to these theories.

"Are you _joking?_ " D'Aqs saw the mouth tense.

"No, he _never jokes_ when discussing items of the spirit. That's the thing with Hellmantle, he loves to shock people. The more severe the shock from the higher degree of obscurity of the fact, the more he thrives. Humor him. I just let him talk. Easier that way," said D'Aqs, feeling like his cousin might become disrespectful when this man had invited them into his home. Hellmantle waved his hand, looked at Dennis Faustino; _the man well versed in general religious history._

"Thank you D'Aqs. Okay then Hellmantle," he said, wisely filling up Hellmantle's glass, "that stuff you were talking about outside, about the _Knights of the Hospital_. What else can you tell me about them?" Having known Hellmantle since the early years at boarding school D'Aqs was aware that he flourished when having something specific. He always floundered with general open-ended questions.

"Weren't the Knights Hospitaller disbanded because someone owed them money?"

"Yes. In 1137 Pope Innocent the Second issued a bull _Christianae fidei religio_ that gave the _Knights of the Hospital_ 'extensive privileges,' which enabled them to accumulate both land and money. The Hospital of St. John, as it was also known, lent monies to King Louis VII of France for the disastrous Second Crusade, and they were able to protect their castles in Syria until the end of the 13th century. The pilgrims continued to come as long as there was a hospice run by the Hospitallers where they could find protection, medicine and a bed on their journey to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher."

" _Very_ interesting, Hellmantle," said Dennis Faustino, now relaxing and watching this unusual motorcyclist. "I'm interested in _knights, not trees_. There's a functioning brain in there somewhere."

"When I bring up religion at the bars in Hong Kong with people from around the world one learns about the history of oppression of various sects and groups of people oppressed by the Catholic Church. But as you know, _Doctor Faustino_ , the Pope and his Roman Catholic soldiers have been oppressing us for almost 2000 thousand years. At one point during the Dark Ages it was _absurd_ how powerful the Pope had become. For example, when the Knights Templar were convicted in the first decade of the fourteenth century, once Pope Clement V issued the list of charges, the Templars were as good as convicted. How could the Templars be proven not guilty if the Pope is literally the seat of God on earth? God must sanction the Pope's word. It was ridiculous. It _still is_ ridiculous."

"What else can you tell me of these knights of the Temple?"

"I can tell you that the Nine Worthies who led the First Crusade, were all honored knights by the Pope of having secured Solomon's Temple from the Muslims, the first nine Knights Templar. They took a vow to uphold honor of God and fight for the righteous, and they took a vow to poverty and weren't allowed to shave their bears or cut their hair." Dennis Faustino liked this hand-selected nugget, stroking his beard proudly, in his imagination trained for drama he enjoyed mulling images of himself as a modern-day Templar who played the organ rather than rode a horse and went on adventures to distant lands with sword in hand,

"So their motto is to: serve and protect God and the needy?"

"That's about right," said D'Aqs, wading in with his own determination from listening to this walking encyclopedia.

"While my dad was alive, and was researching the Knights Templar and about our ancestor Hughes de Payens, he learned of something from a letter that's stuck with me but is not written anywhere else among the vast body of knowledge we have about the Knights Templar. Written by de Payens himself who was the actual founding father of the Templars, to all Templars, it said the devil tempts the brothers with pride and ambition with the idea of achieving higher rank. In his letter that was found in the Hellmantle castle archives, it insists that all Templars must resist these desires with humility. _Only with patience and humility will they best serve God."_

"Have you seen this letter?"

"No. But I know it also has a rebuttal to any objection that the Order's military's duties might be an obstacle to the peace of mind essential for contemplation. He argues that even contemplative warrior monks must perform some labor, and cannot live without devoting time to activities other than contemplation. That's why I like motorcycling."

"Sounds noble."

"It was similar to students of Saint _Columba_ from Ireland who went to Scotland and set up these monasteries that produced warrior monks who would leave Scotland each year for Europe when the message of Jesus was at risk of being lost to history."

"Form the Celtic Church?"

"Yeah, who were at the time equal in power to Rome. Have you ever heard of the seventh-century maxim: _The Celtic Church brings love while the Roman Church brings law?_ "

"No."

"These Celtic warrior monks founded over forty monasteries in Europe from France to Switzerland."

"I remember reading about these guys. They walked to the Mediterranean every summer playing the bagpipes and spreading the Gospel."

"Yep, those are the guys. It reflects the _essential thrust_ of the Ten Knightly Virtues. I only wish I had been mature enough when my father was alive so we could have shared as pint and talk about a lot of this stuff. That is my biggest regret in my life." The transformation was swift, mouth like an envelope, eyelids suddenly heavier than lead, finally a kink in his chain mail.

"What happened to your father Hellmantle?" Dennis Faustino poured his glass full as well as his own.

"He was killed by some chappies from Rome is what happened to him." Dennis Faustino looked at D'Aqs as Hellmantle toyed with his Scotch glass, turning it around and tipping it to the meniscus.

"How did they manage that?"

"Agents of Rome have been killing off people of importance for two thousand years. They're experts at knocking off those who are a threat to their power. My father was no different. After my grandfather was killed in battle in Dien Bien Phu, he took on a lot of the work his father was doing but the thing about my Dad was that he was very outspoken and was talking to some powerful people who had the means to disseminate information to the public. My brother and I were also interested in what he was doing but we were too damned irresponsible to show any interest. He died thinking I was a selfish kid." Face sombre, eyes heavy, he stared at his untouched glass. "So I have to live with that."

"My father died too without me telling him the things I wanted to. Maybe that's just part of life."

"No! It's not part of life! I had a choice to show interest but I didn't! We all have a choice, man!"

"I'm sorry for your loss Hellmantle, but try to take some comfort that your father is very, very proud of you right now as he watches you ride your motorbike through dangerous areas here in remote areas of my country. How can he not be proud?" Pain swirled, eyes dark and wet, emotion threatening his intellect, Hellmantle processed his words in silence, and then finally spoke thus:

"Yes! You are correct. Nice one. Okay then, here's to my father Rolland the Second. May he be happy in Valhalla and be proud of his son in his diligence and perseverance to complete his work." They raised glasses and Hellmantle drank his entire glass.

"Son? Don't you mean _sons?_ " Hellmantle bolted out of his seat and left for the gazebo outside.

"His brother died when he was sixteen on a ski trip," said D'Aqs in a whisper.

"Oh." Removed a cigarette but didn't light it. "Were they close?" D'Aqs pulled off his sweater.

"Yes, _very_ close. They were identical twin brothers. I went to school with them both. They were inseparable. Spoke some strange language and were always a team. We all looked up to them. _Envied_ them I think is the better word."

"Another tragedy for your friend."

"I've been thinking a lot about it since we started our ride and I don't think twins realize the power they have when they're together. Take it all for granted until it's no longer there. Both of them used to do the most outlandish things but I think they could do that because of this support they had for each other."

"Unconditional love."

"Yes, but more than that. They could take risks or act the fool but they each knew it was all right. At boarding school it was what enabled them to become the leaders of the school."

"The loss of a loved father and a brother is hard to take, but a twin brother? Wow." Empathy in Dennis Faustino's eyes.

"And the deaths happened within a year of each other. I wonder if he will ever allow himself to recovered, because he's certainly changed a lot when I knew him well at school."

"And you're a minister?"

"Yes, so it's in my heart to help him but the problem is I don't think he wants help, or is capable of being helped."

"Maybe you're helping him by just being with him." A tear fell from D'Aqs' eye but he let it fall on the table, the salty stain glistening under the chandelier.

# Chapter 13

_In which Catharine the artist is tracked to the Shamrock Café_

and an eerie coincidence of a reoccurring dream

## סּ

Waking up in the clean mountain air perfumed with the crisp scents of forest, Hellmantle's first thought was of the woman he had met last year while in Manila for an assignment for the magazine. He wondered if today would be the day that he could kindle that unrealized flame and secure his love interest during his noble enterprise so far north in such a remote setting. He had met the fair-haired artist when she was in the big city picking up art supplies for her little getaway in Sagada. To Hellmantle her invitation to visit her was sincere enough to warrant the effort of the _Halseema Mountain Trail_ and the added degree of trailbiking prowess to overcome the terrain; braving valleys with headhunters among cloud and darkness was a pittance to him for what might lay ahead for him. But he felt in his gut something that he wasn't sure the name for it. It was a pre-cognitive feeling that he knew he could never fathom.

Dennis Faustino had already left for the church so he and D'Aqs packed up but did not go over to the church to watch part of the wedding until D'Aqs had written a note leaving his father's address in Hong Kong in case Dennis Faustino ever landed on Hong Kong Island. With his PhD he might enjoy meeting his father, a fellow academic. Hellmantle didn't think of leaving a note and was noticeably impatient as he sat at the top of the steps. Through the open doors they saw Dennis Faustino playing the organ looking a bit puffy around the eyes.

Hellmantle noticed behind the church where there were some graves an American World War Two memorial had been defaced. It bothered him that someone had painted over the engraved letters so the writing on the mantle was illegible. Beside it there was a green shamrock over the gate of the adjoining school called Trinity College, which made him forget about the vandalized memorial.

"Let's go to the _Shamrock Café_ to ask about the German lass," he said, realizing that he had started to procrastinate. He tried to be cavalier but he was nervous about finally tracking her down.

D'Aqs waved at Dennis and then they left for café on the main street. There was space in front of some tables to park their dirt bikes, as there were no sidewalks. In the brightness of the morning, the Shamrock Café was tiny.

"She is still not arrived _señor,_ " said the woman with empathy." No bus yet, but soon _señor_ , very soon."

"I can't stay, unfortunately. We're on our motorcycles and have to be back in Manila in four days."

"I can leave her a message if you want sir."

"Hellmantle. Tell her _Hellmantle from Normandy_ came by to see her and consummate our destiny." The woman put a small piece of scrap paper on the table and she wrote down his name. After she had finished writing he took it to correct the spelling, and added: "Fair artist from Germany, I have trekked a thousand miles on my motorbike to see you but _alas!_ You are not here. But knowing that you are here and known by this bar manager, I am inspired by your honesty and will complete my quest in honor of you. Maybe we'll have the chance to meet again." He even left a telephone number for further correspondence at the artist's discretion due to D'Aqs' suggestion. He had left evidence of his presence for her.

D'Aqs suggested coffee to get Hellmantle back on track. They sat under old wooden shutters with a view of miles of mountaintops and sloping green hills that still felt like the café at edge of the universe by virtue of its vista: strange rock formations protruding upwards like obelisks surrounded by bright green grass and dotted with clusters of pine forests, wooden coffins hanging out of cave openings. It looked like a fairy tale.

"I feel as if I'm in prehistoric Ireland," said Hellmantle looking out the window.

"Like a fairy tale. I can see why the artist lives here." But the calm vibe was marred when other foreigners sat right beside them when there was many other tables open in the small café. Loud and excited and immature, it rattled Hellmantle's sensitivities. Perhaps it was the combination of caffeine and the dramatic vista before him, he soon felt claustrophobic and spoke thus to D'Aqs in a whisper:

"Why would they sit _here_ when there are so many other tables?" D'Aqs shrugged his shoulders and sipped his coffee. Watch the tourists' posture manifest in an array of deviations from their old self. Granted taking the first steps out of ones shell is a rite of passage everyone must take, I have already stepped in those waters so I don't want to be privy to others shin splints stumbling out of shells secluded and silent in a small café when the vibrancy of the mountains draws me! I don't know if that is arrogance or just because my way of traveling is truer than flying in from some airport. I _dislike_ being around _green tourists_. Perhaps it's an imperfection of mine, but showing man's imperfections is the essence of telling the truth, _non?_ "

Hellmantle was so antsy that he repacked his backpack and fastened it to his motorcycle with the bungee cords. As D'Aqs waited for him to fix his pack, he realized that he too was becoming claustrophobic. He wasn't sure if it was the attitude that came from young westerners ending up in exotic locales fresh off a bus talking of television shows that was infringing upon his sense of adventure too. Perhaps it was his newborn love for motorcycling that had shown him another form of traveling, the purity of its degree of freedom having wrecked his previous idea of travel.

"Let's go Hellmantle." For a moment he watched the tall man in the motorcycle jacket and scraped black boots laces tied around the top of the boot leaving toe hole free, gold-rimmed glasses shining in the mountain sun.

"Yes! Let us move on! Time to go find the Dutchman with the map. Not finding my Fair Lady will not deter me from my duty at hand!" They started their engines with some moxie to show the green tourists sitting with their fat bellies they lived in another dimension of life, one where danger was real and where skills were a required ingredient to get from point A to B. When D'Aqs was pulling his gloves he saw a woman walking towards them, hair left to its own accord, bag drooped over a shoulder that might have been the reason for the tilt of her head. At first he thought it was the German artists but she was clearly brunette. He didn't know her but he tipped his helmet to be polite.

" _Senorita, Buenos Dias_ ," he said, finding dormant words.

With ease she put her hand on his handlebars and said:

"Don't tell me you rode here from Manila?" He felt the flush of his cheek from the pride he had to say yes. Her eyes sparkled gray in the sun. "That's braver than most."

"It wasn't my idea. It was my cousin's," he said, bashful.

"We've met somewhere, haven't we?" When she came closer he smelled her that sent his physiology haywire. He had always believed there was someone out there destined to be his partner through life but hadn't been fortunate to find her.

"Are you a... _an artista?_ " Her hand grabbed his with the same ease as her hair had in the soft breeze, as if silk.

"We have met!" He wanted her to keep her hand on his forearm, forever.

"Actually-"

"Or was it in my dream?" He hand abandoned him going to her mouth, lips thin and pink and inviting. "Oh my God! _You are!_ " Cheeks flushed, eyes piercing. He knew what dream she was referring, the same one he had had over and over again.

"You-"

"You're a priest or something, aren't you?"

"How-"

"Because _I know_." In all the vicissitudes life had thrown at him he had never felt safer than this moment.

""I was recently a missionary in Burma," he said, his voice calm despite the tidal waves in his heart.

"Across from that big fort in Mandalay? Just a guess."

"You mean Fort Dufferin?"

"Yes! _That_ one." Their eyes could not let go.

"I must say, this is truly extraordinary! The stone church across from the fort, the one near the Buddhist monastery with all of Gautama Buddha's parables written on those stone tablets, was where I was stationed until I went to where George Orwell used to live when he was an Imperial policeman after he graduated from Eton from 1923 to 1928. Poor guy left with his health in tatters."

"That's classic!" eyes warm and without malice. "I must say, this is truly extraordinary! _In tatters_." Her laugh caught Hellmantle's attention through the sounds of their engines.

"My _angel!_ "

"No way!" she said when she recognized Hellmantle. "You did come!"

"I have traversed many miles to see you!" Overt and clumsy, his awkwardness gave D'Aqs a strength he had never experienced before. Catharine put her hand on his forearm again, her eyes intent on him. Hellmantle turned off his engine and hugged her, his hair all over the place.

"Are you brothers? You have the same eyes...almost." Catharine then made it clear whom she was enamored with when she looked into D'Aqs' eyes with meaning.

"We're cousins," he said.

"Well, I am _flattered_. I think that's the right word." She put her bag at D'Aqs' feet as if she had been doing it all her life.

" _My fair lass!_ We shall consummate our kindling fire so that I may fulfill my destiny of finding the map!" Catharine looked at him with concern, and then remembered Hellmantle's strange ways.

"I certainly remember meeting you."

"I knew it!" he said.

"You're the type of man a woman remembers," she said, feeding the Man from Normandy the words he desired to hear. "I really like your beard. It's very... _bright_."

"I knew there was an _a priori_ understanding between us!"

"A what?" She giggled, looking at D'Aqs that said she was aware of Hellmantle's eccentricities. She looked at the dried mud on her sleeve after the embrace left from Hellmantle's riding jacket.

"Here, let me get the note I just left you!" He flew to the counter to retrieve the note.

"He's funny."

"Yes, he _is_ funny." The understanding was bridged. They could already communicate between the lines. When he shut off his engine he felt none of the terror he always had around other women. Yes, Catharine was the one he had been waiting for.

"Sagada of all places we meet."

"I was just thinking the same thing," she said, the moment with tremendous gravitas.

Ω

When they sat at the table beside the shuttered window D'Aqs had never been happier, especially when she pressed her leg against his under the table. It was exactly what he needed to quell insecurities that arose when he could witness her beauty, And he could see that she loved it from her expression, which he read as not wanting to change her present situation.

Hellmantle busied himself with retelling their exploits so far on the trip, taking special care to highlight the manliness required to 'conquer the _Halseema Mountain Trail_.' Showing tremendous social tact she gave Hellmantle her attention so that his illusions wouldn't shatter, which was something D'Aqs had learned to do too.

"So we took the old missionary trail to see you despite the fact that it has cost us some valuable time," he said, coming close to his conclusion.

"Thank God for that! Otherwise we wouldn't have met." The _double entendre_ was confirmed with the subtle flinching of her leg against D'Aqs'. He wondered how Hellmantle, who was uncomfortable with human contact, could sustain a relationship with a woman. The thought pained him because he was the last in his family line to carry the surname Hellmantle.

"I don't know your family or much about you but something in my intuition told me that you have a purpose in my _grande scheme_."

"I know what it is," she said, playfully.

"It's so that D'Aqs and I can fulfill our holy mission in the name of love, chivalry and the Holy Grail!" D'Aqs, knowing now what the searching for the Grail meant, couldn't help himself from asking:

"Where is your family from? You know we're from Normandy who recently fled to Quebec during the war."

"I think I said I was from Germany, which is right because I was born there but my family for centuries is from Groningen in Belgium. My last name isn't German." He and Hellmantle looked at each other, D'Aqs giving him the nod to ask the question.

"What is your surname?"

"My name is Catharine Asher." It meant nothing to D'Aqs but Hellmantle suddenly stood up.

"There is no reason for you to deceive, so that really is something: Asher! _Actual footage,_ " he said, and straightened his posture. "I'm Roland Hellmantle if you recall, and this fine lad here is-"

"I'm D'Aqs _Grosjean_ ," he said, henceforth using his original surname.

"D'Aqs?"

"It's a shortened form of D'Aquitaine. It means _of the water_."

"My mother's family is from there." Hellmantle, becoming more agitated the more he looked at his wristwatch, spoke thus:

"I remember now! It was the spelling of your name Catharine with the " _ar_ " rather than the " _er_ " that caught by attention."

"I recall when you asked the spelling of my name. You had a... _a reaction_."

"It's rare that your name is spelt with the " _ar_ ," but for me it signifies that your parents are aware of the massacre of the Cathars during the ninth century. And for me that was the Sign." Looking at D'Aqs he said: "See? There was a reason."

"And Hellmantle is loath to pass by a Sign."

"Don't tell me, your family is not Catholic."

"No, my father is always talking about Catholics and history. It really made me bananas when I was younger."

"Same with me."

"I never got it."

"Nor did I." He unintentionally grabbed her hand, which she held and put under the table so Hellmantle's spirit wouldn't be _unbuoyed_.

"He would be an Orange Man if he could, but he wasn't born in Northern Ireland! But now that we have met and we know you are an Asher from the tribe of the same name, we are set to attain our quest. And that means now!" D'Aqs knew Hellmantle was not one for long good-byes so when he paid for the food and coffee and went to his motorcycle to put on his kit, he knew he wouldn't wait for them.

"Will you-"

"Yes! I will. I love Hong Kong." They gave each other a long hug, D'Aqs immediately drugged by her pheromones.

"You have to call me because you don't have a telephone!"

"You _know_ I will. At the end of next week after you guys are back. Ride safe here though. And use your head." She looked wearily at Hellmantle. "Make sure he doesn't do anything too _extreme._ We have a lot to catch up on D'Aqs." He knew she was thinking of her reoccurring dream, the same one that had sustained him through forty years of celibate patience and faith that one day he would meet his mate. How rare was this moment! He decided then that God existed, and to honor Him and Catharine he would grow his beard.

# Chapter 14

_About Hellmantle reaching the rice terraces_

and finding a way to the northwest

## נּ

Hellmantle rode to a place just out of town where they sold gas from reused pop bottles and asked for gas.

"Sorry, only regular," said the gasman, plastic bottles filled with leaded gas on a hacked-up roadside table beside him. Hellmantle didn't want to hear these words so he asked him again:

"You have unleaded please?"

"Regular only." The gasman said the closest place to get unleaded gas was in _Bontoc_ , or they could wait until two for their resupply.

"That's sixteen kilometers away, which is about a twenty-minute ride," he said to D'Aqs.

With gas now an issue, Hellmantle chose to ride on fumes towards _Bontoc_ instead of waiting until two in the afternoon for more and surely another coffee with his Fair Maiden. Apart from the fuel concern, all the moguling had taken its toll by loosening a screw so that it had fallen out, leaving part of the chain guard rubbing against both the chain and the tire's knobby treads. Chain loose from all the first-and-second-gear climbing he had done so far, it had to be dealt with before the chain buckled in the chassis. Choosing not to share his concern for the chain buckling, due to a previous incident he had had while off-roading along the northern border of Thailand and Burma, he removed one of his bungee cords and hooked the metal prong through where the screw used to be, taking full advantage of the tough plastic fiberglass faring, and then hooked the other end to the far side of the seat.

"It won't work," said D'Aqs, after looking at this handy work. Hellmantle nodded, took out a piece of string and threaded through and looped it around the frame below the seat, tying it tight.

"If the string can hold the chain guard from slipping down a centimeter, then it should be okay."

"But watch, when I sit on it." Hellmantle's weight flexed the back shock absorbers and weakened the tension of the string. D'Aqs was close to suggest they get tools from town when Hellmantle took hold of his water bottle, drank all its contents, tied the string to his bungee with lots of tension, and then wedged the empty bottle between the rear faring and the bungee cord.

"You know something," said D'Aqs, hand to chin. "I think that might work." Genuine emotion of pride in D'Aqs eyes. Perhaps it was his still flushed cheek from the Shamrock Café, but he was so enthused about the contraption that he bent over to make sure it was firm.

"Here-"When D'Aqs pushed the empty bottle into place his hand slipped, cutting the skin open on the palm of his hand against the folded end.

"Clutch hand. _Bummer_ ," said Hellmantle, trying to hold in his laughter. D'Aqs studied the cut closely as Hellmantle erupted.

"Could you?" He motioned to his knapsack, so Hellmantle retrieved his dopkit, the same one he had when they shared a dorm twenty-five years ago, and placed the Band-Aid along the inch-long cut as best he could.

"Right along the crease of the hand. Might prove to be a _bad cut in a few days_. But _not now!_ Let us go to the rice terraces my cousin, fumes or not!"

With the rattling gone the ride was a degree better for the man from Normandy, which was good because he had entered the Eighth-Wonder-of-the-World territory. On the more rider-friendly surface he and D'Aqs had good cruising as they climbed in second gear towards Bontoc. Riding side-by-side with Hellmantle for long stretches, D'Aqs again could see his mastery of the two-wheeled balance; trail biking like a finely tuned instrument.

When approaching Bontoc D'Aqs felt his engine overheating from lack of oil. He was aware it needed a top up before but had forgotten about it. It had been pushed it out of mind due to all the thoughts about Catharine. He feared for the health of his engine and the damage done if he ran out of engine oil. Gas was one thing but oil was a whole other ballgame. It was truly a hand-of-God moment when just as his engine began to sputter he pulled into the _Spring View Inn_ in Bontoc. When he parked, just as he was about to turn off the engine it stopped on its own. The engine had seized from lack of oil. He wouldn't have been able to ride another hundred meters. He had reached civilization by the scrape of a claw but didn't mention it to his cousin. He didn't want him worrying about a motorcycle mishap as it would deter from his focus and cause ripples in his temperament.

After purchasing oil and refueling with unleaded gas, he had to wait twenty minutes for the oil to seep into the engine while Hellmantle tightened his chain and studied his contraption with the chain guard. It didn't look pretty but it was firm and holding and effective.

Full of fuel, they left for _Banaue_ with impatience and zeal but the road was tough, which caused D'Aqs a lot of pain in his clutch hand. The closer they inched toward Banaue the more bright-green rice terraces, with entire sides of mountains carved out to grow rice. The rice terraces conformed to the grain of the valley creating a synergy in an eye-catching natural geology. The more rice terraces Hellmantle saw, the more he wanted to see. More than just fields to grow rice, they had been hewed out of mountains and a marvel of human will to overcome isolation.

When they arrived fog hung low concealing a full visual of the rice terraces. Entrapped in the middle of the mountains, darkness fell quickly so Hellmantle decided to stay at a place called Patina's Café. Just after dinner he and D'Aqs relaxed with empty plates and half-full beers in front of them, Hellmantle's map open.

"The highway here is the best route I think," he said, pointing at the main paved highway running south from Banaue that hooked up with a main highway going due north on the east side of the Sierra Madre Mountains to Aparri.

"This main highway here that runs north through the Cagayan Province is the one we want to take," said D'Aqs, practical and logical.

"What about this road here?" A thin line crossed the mountain range from Banaue that ended right in the middle of the mountains.

"It's not for vehicles it looks like. It's not a road. Probably for local people to work the rice terraces."

"It _must_ go through!" said Hellmantle. "Going around the mountains is time consuming and it is _antithetical_ to my motorcycling instincts!" D'Aqs feared another Halseema Mountain Trail experience but worse. He saw them stranded in the middle of nowhere with only one option to turn back. He liked the ease of cruising to the bruising terrain of variation and incongruities.

"The highway is a safer call Hellmantle."

"There must be a way through the mountains. Why would it just end like that? It's the map. Besides, it would be pretty cool to get through there with all the rice terraces around. Apparently they spread out for some 400 square kilometers mainly east of Banaue." He looked outside at the fog. "There's only one way to find out." Mischief on his face.

"No. No way."

"With our dirt bikes we could endure a walking trail."

"We can't afford to be stuck in the middle of nowhere," said D'Aqs. "I have to be back in Manila to catch my flight on Monday morning. I'm not free to change my return date."

"My flight leaves Monday too so I'm in the same boat, but I am still _free_." He took a long drink from his San Miguel beer to emphasize his point. "This taste of freedom here in the mountains of the Cordillera Mountain Range whets my appetite for more." D'Aqs knew he wasn't able to make him see reason.

Ω

In the morning it was still overcast so Hellmantle decided to hang out in the market in the middle of Banaue still hopeful it would clear up. Instead it rained harder. Under a small canopy of a stall in the market at the main intersection, Hellmantle opened his map and pondered the small road again.

"The thing is D'Aqs, if we take it we will be immersed right in the heart of the rice terraces. I know the road is off the beaten track but I believe God is our co-pilot and will see us through on our quest for the _Dutch Padre_." By chance a woman in the market also sought respite from the rain under the canopy, so Hellmantle boldly asked her about the road heading east.

"Not for car," she said.

"It goes through the rice terraces, doesn't it?"

"Yes, but it is a trail for oxen." She regarded him as a lost tourist, looking at him with compassion, as if he were a lost puppy.

"It doesn't go through the mountains?"

"No." She shook her head in the negative. "It stops after a kilometer. No go for you."

"On my map the line stops in the _middle_ of the mountains _before_ it reaches the main highway." Hellmantle showed her but she couldn't readjust her perspective to see where they were on the map. For sure cartography was not taught in schools he thought.

Exasperated, he saw a woman with folded tattooed arms chewing betel nut watching him from another stall. Beginning to feel the nip in the air, Hellmantle walked over and bought a package from the lady. D'Aqs was curious what betel nut was so Hellmantle took a betel nut, wrapped it in a green leaf, sprinkled the white powder in the middle like a taco, added the mystery element to the mix, and then wedged the item between his cheek and gums.

"It will warm you up," said Hellmantle, chewing the beet-red intoxicant. "It is an elixir for a motorcyclist in these rugged parts, the added ingredient for explorers when faced with adversity!" So D'Aqs followed his example but spit it out after a minute's effort.

" _That_ is disgusting!"

The rain was pouring now and the little hut in the market was not enough to keep them dry.

"I don't want to ride some cushy highway the long way on a _dirt bike_ ," Hellmantle said. "I prefer to explore the Eighth Wonder of the World on a small mud trail over a mountain range!"

"I don't like cushy highways either," replied D'Aqs, playing the hand of the squire but also looking at the red cut on his hand he sustained on his way to Bontoc. "But it would guard against trouble, such as hitting a dead-end in the mountains."

"Let's take the mountains. The journey is the destination!" Hellmantle put on another layer and then started his engine. In a sudden outburst Hellmantle and D'Aqs maneuvered through the market, rode past an old church without a bell tower and crossed the river to the walking trail. There was only mud and dirt surrounded by deep green foliage but it was a welcome change. Immediately empowered by the more traditional dirt-biking path that was ahead, he yelled back to D'Aqs:

"Our dirt bikes are designed specifically for this type of off-road situation! Open up your throttle and bounce off the bumps!"

After only a few miles, both were covered in mud. As if attempting to make the best of a bad business, Hellmantle threw himself into the riding, speeding around corners with the certain knowledge that no Jeepney was going to come headlong into him. Completely isolated from cars and noise, he sped forward and upwards past rice terraces on either side of him with a newfound joy towards a destination that seemed unattainable. The path gave him what all true trail bikers wanted: a traffic-free trail unhampered by the nuisances of modern society weaving through exotic landscapes.

For D'Aqs, after chewing that little bit of betel nut, warmth flooded through his bloodstream making him warm and more daring. Even so it was tough to keep up with his cousin. But it was a totally new experience for him. For him nature had never bestowed so much beauty in one area of the world. The hue of the vegetation and the absolute peace he felt being immersed in the bosom of what God had created inspired him. Fear absent, he was catapulted into a new realm of being. He began to understand the reckless passion of his cousin for this type of adventure and berated himself for being Doubting Thomas.

Around a corner and over a waterfall flowing over the dirt path, Hellmantle passed rice terraces wholly isolated and pristine. Green fields spread out down-graded leveled slopes towards a river where a line of small huts spread for a mile down to a valley below. Judging by the hardiness of the few natives that gawked at him as he rode by, the terraces were built by sweat and diligence. Terrace after terrace, and mile after mile protected by the natural walls of rock, it was a world of carved-out fields where man had tamed sides of mountains. _These_ were the rice terraces that the tourists didn't see; _these_ were the real wonders, he thought. He took another turn and before him was an almost perfectly stepped slope of terraces in symmetrical harmony that stepped down to a forest where red-roofed huts were clustered in the middle of a rice terrace surrounded by palm trees. The rich red of the rooftops contrasted against the trees and the light green of budding rice like green hair shimmering on water. Hellmantle was stunned.

"I am in a _different planet_ ," he said to himself.

Hellmantle and D'Aqs rode along the empty trail for hours through mud and inclines threatening success of reaching the other side. For Hellmantle the muddier it became the more fulfilling the experience. The motorcycling joy he experienced snowballed with every mile. He was impelled to speak thus:

"Only those who do not _fear fear_ can ever understand the heights of enjoyments of a ride like this! A fall and broken bones and brushes with your mortality are experienced as the _thrill of danger!_ The cold slap of mud on my face does _not_ chill down my spine; it enthuses my soul for more and fortifies that which we call _self_. _This_ is the _affirmation of life_ and a corporeal reminder that _I am living life! An honest inclination is worth a thousand contemplations!"_

Both cousins thought riding through the Sierra Madre Mountains on a trail that was so small that it disappeared on a map was perhaps one of those rare instances when you felt you were achieving something significant, something more than finding a padre or a lost map. You and God were the only witnesses to the coordination that was required to navigate such terrain and moments of greatness that were brought into being to save your life. It was a moment of flashing brilliance that went with you to your grave.

Soon Hellmantle and D'Aqs fought the dying sunlight and faced with the prospect of being stranded. Hellmantle pulled over at a small shelter at the side of the road for a minute to consult his map and wait for D'Aqs to catch up. He saw that he was now past the point where the line on the map stopped. The only village around was a place called _Mayayao_. Hellmantle also realized that he was almost 6000 feet above sea level.

By the time it was completely dark in the thick of the Sierra Madre Mountains, they became accustomed to riding in the dark as they ploughed through the silence of the mountains soon riding right through the village without seeing it. It was only a minute outside the village that D'Aqs realized they had passed through _Mayayao_. Hellmantle was so carried away with his flow that he hadn't even noticed the village.

Returning to the village the only light on was on top of what looked like the town hall. Hellmantle led the way up the steps to learn that it was the police station of _Mayayao_. The policeman said that there was a place for them to stay, pointing to an area of darkness at the turn in the road beside a river. When they walked over and knocked on the door, to their surprise a young woman answered and said that she had rooms available for the night.

# Chapter 15

_About what happened to our intrepid philosopher_

in the middle of the Sierra Madre Mountains

## Mayayao, Sierra Madre Mountain Range, Ifugao Province

## מּ

On seeing the state of Hellmantle and D'Aqs, covered in debris and sporting a muddy countenance in general, the young woman smiled at the tall men and said all the rooms were vacant. When she was told they had ridden into town on their motorcycles she shook her head but admired them with her eyes. After providing them with peanuts and chips and beer and water, she took them to the rooms around the side of the building to three rooms under the main floor.

"This is where missionaries stay when they pass through," she said. D'Aqs shivered in his wet clothes. "That's why we named the rooms after the first three chapters in the Bible." She pointed above the doorway.

"Genesis, and this one is Exodus," said D'Aqs, feeling as if he had found an ancient secret among his own people called by God to bring the Gospel to those who were still in the dark. He had never seen this in Burma.

"And the third is Jeremiah," she said as she smiled and left them. D'Aqs stood squinting at the signs above the doorway.

"She said each room is named after the _first three chapters_ of the Bible? Not quite. The first two books are Genesis and Exodus, but the Book of Jeremiah is in the _middle_ of the Old Testament." The room cold but dry.

"Then why do you think they chose it?" The man from Normandy busy stuffing peanuts and beer down his throat.

"Couldn't say." The way D'Aqs removed his boots showed the pain he was in, particularly his clutch hand.

"If they chose the Book of Jeremiah purposely they probably know their stuff. It's one of my favorites."

"Why's that?" Hellmantle took a long swig of his beer. D'Aqs cracked open a beer and stared at the wall across from him where someone had painted a mural of a rice terrace.

"Among the greatest dates in history for me is not 1492 or 1066 or 1798, but 586BC," said Hellmantle in a lecturing tone. He paused to see if D'Aqs understood the importance of the date, which he didn't. "For me this date was a moment when history hung in the balance. Since then there have been no serious threats to the chosen family."

"I'm not getting it."

"No, it doesn't appear so. _You never studied the family records and appreciated our historical significance in the Bible story_." He sighed and shook his head for emphasis. "This was the date that the three daughters of the Royal House of Judah left with their scribe Baruch and traveled from Jerusalem via Spain to Northern Ireland. There, one of the three daughters married a Celtic King in a town that eventually got its name from the princess named _Tara_."

"The Hill of Tara. Sure, I know of that," D'Aqs chuffed he could show some degree of knowledge.

"Well then you know Irish Celts hold three sacred assemblies in Tara every year?"

"No."

"And ever since Princess Tara was crowned a Celtic Queen, all the kings of the United Kingdom have been crowned with the _Stone of Destiny_ under the throne. The _Stone of Destiny_ was brought over too, which is said to have been _Jacob's Pillow_."

"I've heard of the _Stone of Destiny_ but never knew how it came to Britain. But how do you _know_ this stuff?"

"Books my brother, _books_. You see I'm an _archivist_. I dig deeper mental archives for certain subjects, and the Book of Jeremiah happens to be one of them. It's _all_ in the Book of Jeremiah. It's there to read. This sacred stone, this _Stone of Scone_ was brought over when the entire royal family of the Royal House of Judah had been killed by the invading Assyrian army in 586BC. All the male heirs of the Royal House of David were killed including Zedekiah, the father of the three daughters who saved the bloodline from extinction and brought the line of chosen Judah to the green pastures of Ireland where they quickly married into the royalty of the Celts, their long lost cousins in the British Isles. They arrived with the royal lion on their shields and the chosen bloodline was introduced into the British Isles. This is where the lion comes from in the British lion and the unicorn coat-of-arms." D'Aqs grunted.

"Regardless of its historical impact, the Book of Jeremiah in the Old Testament is one of the great stories in our canon of historical literature. And it goes some way to explain the connection between northern Europe \- particularly Ireland, Scotland and England - and the bloodline of the Royal House of David. It wasn't until I had put in many hours of research that I began to uncover what the connections are. To me _this_ is the most important forgotten piece of history they _don't_ teach at school." Hellmantle, flushed in the face.

"What history?" The beer was already making D'Aqs sleepy as he casually picked at the cut on his hand.

"The Red Hand in the Northern Ireland flag was said to come from some legend from a battle between the north and the south, but it actually comes from the Book of Genesis. When the royal heir was born there were twins and the rightful heir _Zarah_ went back into the womb and was not given the honor of being the first born. A red string was tied around Zarah's finger before going back into the womb. The string was to recognize the inheritance of the rightful line. It was _this line_ of Royal David that was saved from extinction when Jeremiah and the three daughters came over to Northern Ireland. This bloodline is still carried by the British Royal Family today – at least in diluted form. The Northern Irish flag is actually a red hand mounted on the Star of David under the royal crown. You have to ask yourself why these symbols are used? The red hand and the red string: how plain could it be especially placed in front of the Star of David?"

"This bloodline of the chosen line came from _Ireland?_ " D'Aqs, very doubtful and fearful his cousin was living in a world of illusions and selective religious history, thought he would let him get it off his chest. After all it had been quite a day.

"Ah! Well, the mother of the three daughters was named _Scota_ , so when Princess Tara from the House of Judah married the Celtic king _Fergus the Great_ on the Hill of Tara in Ireland, they became known as the Scots. These Scots from Ireland went to Scotland and conquered the Picts, and settled what is modern-day Scotland. This royal bloodline eventually made it to the British throne through James the Sixth of Scotland, who became James the First of Great Britain, which fulfilled the prophecy in Genesis. King James was a Stewart, a name that means _to serve_. And it was this James who commissioned the King James Bible." D'Aqs was speechless for a moment.

"So then that's why Scotland has the red lion rampant as their emblem?" As any man of the cloth would know, the lion of Judah was the famous symbol from the Bible but how it ever got into Britain had always been a mystery.

"Yeah. And it's red because of the red thread on the finger of their forefather Zarah, who was the twin of Perez." D'Aqs had to concede Hellmantle's reference to the Book of Genesis.

"I do know that in the Book of Genesis it describes when one of the twins' fingers is tied with a red piece of string symbolizing the _true inheritor of earthly power_."

"This is what the red hand symbolizes: that the three sisters landed in Northern Ireland from Palestine way back in 586BC. _This is the hidden history of the British Isles_." It was clear his mind was racing with unsaid facts and information from the countless pages he had read over the years as an expatriate that was coming to life from all the betel nut he had chewed. To encourage him D'Aqs took out his Good Book and, since he knew the Book of Genesis much better than the Book of Jeremiah, he found the passage Hellmantle was talking about in Genesis, He read it aloud:

Genesis 38:28 When the time came for her to give birth, it was discovered that she was going to have twins. While she was in labor, one of them put out an arm; the midwife caught it, tied a red thread around it, and said, "this one was born first." But he pulled his arm back, and then his brother was born first. Then the midwife said, "So this is how you break your way out!" So he was named Perez. Then his brother was born with the red thread on his arm, and he was named Zarah."

" _Yes_ , that's it. The name _Zarah_ means ' _scarlet_.' And actually, while we're on names, _James_ is the English form of the Hebrew _Jacob_. That's where the word _Jacobite_ comes from when referring to the Stewart line, Bonny Prince Charlie and his failed _putsch_ to regain the throne."

"Saint James in Spanish is Santiago."

"You know what ' _Britain_ ' means?"

"Yes. It means ' _people of the covenant_ ,' in Hebrew." D'Aqs enjoying the sparring.

"What about the first name ' _Brian?_ '"

"No."

"It's a variation of the word _Britain_ , like _Bri'an_. It means person of the covenant – covenant as you know meaning agreement between the Israelites and God."

"And my first name?"

"I can't entertain the notion that you don't know," said Hellmantle, stunned.

"All I know is that it's French and comes from my mother." Hellmantle chose not to ridicule his cousin's ignorance.

"It means _from Acquitaine_. And Acquitaine was one of the primary areas where the descendants of Jesus chose to locate."

"Ah. That's because some of my family line on my mother's side came from Acquitaine. _Interesting_." Hellmantle pondered for a moment with the Bible in his hand.

"There is this great silence about all this knowledge that it boggles the mind. Why aren't these truths taught? H.G. Wells was right when he wrote the religious life of Western countries is ' _going on in a house of history built upon sand_.' As I see it, at this point in history it's about learning the history of the migration and location of ' _peoples of the covenant_.' My point is that religion today is more to do with the Book of Jeremiah and what it tells us about our family history rather than trying to figure out how one can be _born from a virgin mother_. So few people know a very important truth about the Bible: that the _Europeans have an Israelite origin_. Ancestors of Jacob landed in Europe and her satellites. For example, direct descendants of Jacob's son Zebulon are one tribe that still exist today as one people in Europe: The Netherlands. They were known as sailors and experts at sea and their symbol on their shields was a ship. These are the modern-day Dutch."

"Are you _serious?_ "

"I told you I'm always _serial_ when discussing this. I'm actually surprised you've never been exposed to all this. You know _Britain_ means _people of the covenant_ but you don't know about the British Israelites. So many symbols of Great Britain are _from_ the Bible."

"So where did they land?"

"I don't know them all but I remember the tribe of _Dan_ settled _Den_ mark, and named the _Dan_ River and the _Dan_ ube River. The _Dan_ es were considered the strongest of the three Viking tribes, the Norse being excellent seafarers and the Swedes going down the Volga River and taking over Russia."

"No."

"The _Rus_ were a Viking tribe from Sweden. They ruled Russia for centuries." Surprised at D'Aqs lack of historical knowledge, he added: "And you know how people say the Vikings were _barbarians_ who plundered booty and whatnot, well they were world-class traders had settlements in many places."

"They went to Canada a thousand years ago didn't they?"

"They did, to _Lanse-de-Meadow_ in Newfoundland. They were there for a few years and buggered off. Called it _Vinland_. And they had a settlement in Sicily and modern-day Chechnya, and Dublin."

"Ireland?"

" _Dublin was a Viking fort_. And the Irish surname _Higgins_ comes from _O'Higgins_ and the Gaelic _O'huiGin_ means _Viking_. Vikings also settled Iceland, the Hebrides north of Scotland and any town along the east coast of England that ends with the letters ' _by_ , like Dig _by_.'"

"Why? Because it means 't _own_?'"

"Exactly. From _Danelaw_ when the _long heads_ , as the Vikings were called, kept attacking the east coast of England. The Vikings were basically the _policemen_ of the Silk Road to China."

" _That's_ hard to believe."

"Doubt all you want Thomas but they're still finding Vikings buried along the Silk Road. Look it up."

"And us? As Normans?" Sleep was descending on his eyelids like bricks.

"We're are descendants of the tribe of Benjamin."

"And the Swiss?"

"The tribe of Gad. They grabbed the best land in Switzerland. I believe the symbol on their shield was a leader of troops, and as a fact Switzerland has the oldest army in Europe known as the Swiss Guard. They protect the Pope. They wear the rather loud regalia with the stripes and whatnot." D'Aqs' doubt was gaining force with this matter-of-fact delivery of this dubious piece of knowledge about the Netherlands.

"I'm sure you don't mind me asking but how can you be sure of this?"

"Scholars have been researching the Lost Tribes recently and have tracked the tribes by language and symbols, but mainly by genetics. There's a map that exists that tracks the movement of the tribes with the majority going to Northern Europe, but also a strain going to modern-day Afghanistan. I believe it is the _R2 gene_ that is the marker for the Afghan piece."

"But. But they're _Muslim_."

"That's true but they _became_ Muslim after Mohammed penned the Koran around 700AD. God dictated it to Him because the previous message had been tampered with by Rome. It says that in the Koran. At one point it states: 'It is not suited for Almighty God that He should father a son.' And 'They say, "God had fathered a son!' – Glory to be to Him!' No reason do you have for this lie about God.' "Verily, those who make up a lie against God will never succeed!' " D'Aqs closed his eyes and ruminated the data and heard Hellmantle mutter _virgin birth_ under his breath. "And coincidently, I have a friend from university who is the grandson of the Shah – or _king_ \- of Afghanistan who told me once that during the war Hitler asked his grandfather to join the Axis powers, which he declined. After he had sent his letter refusing his offer he received a Mercedes Benz from Germany." D'Aqs fell asleep thinking about Jeremiah and the hidden history of the family story of the Bible.

# Chapter 16

_In which a record is given about the brave Hellmantle_

through uncharted territory on his trusted dirt bike

## לּ

Rising, Hellmantle put on his boots and went outside to see where exactly he was. The missionary inn was on the riverbank at a bridge that was the eastern boundary of _Mayayao_. An open area like a plaza with shacks facing the police station on the hill was the center of the mountain hamlet, an area for oxen and commerce. After an evening of wolfing down peanuts, crackers and the Book of Jeremiah, it was still too early to get gas but he was sure they could fill up when the sun rose a bit more. It was still the crack of dawn.

Keenly aware of the position they were now in, they had three days before they both had to return to Hong Kong but they still had to ride to the top of Luzon Island, west to Laoag City, and then down the west coast to Manila: a total of about 1000 kilometers. Despite climbing to the northeast not finding a church with a bell tower that housed the Dutch priest, the truth was there hadn't been any churches in such remote places as the _Halseema Mountain Trail_ , Banaue and the heart of the Sierra Madre Mountains. Hellmantle was confident that they would find what needed to be found because he had faith that he had been chosen to fulfill this divine mission and had read the signs. When D'Aqs came out of the missionary rooms and sat beside him on the riverbank he looked like he was in pain.

" _Tu ne cede mails, sed contra audentior ito_ ," Hellmantle said when he saw him studying his face. D'Aqs simply raised his eyebrows at him.

"What are you talking about?" Creases were etched in his face.

"It means ' _yield not to adversity, but press on more bravely_.'"

"If we can get through."

"But does not pain make features hard, telling of an education into the deep-end of humanity and an exploration of the corners and crevices unseen? Acting without believing deeply can never yield a fruitful crop. Better it is to not act when purpose is built on a wobbly cliff!"

"Are you always this reckless?"

"To me it smells like a vacation here, but I know it's only a Viking's life I'm living."

"Or should I say 'gung-ho?'" As usual, Hellmantle avoided looking directly into his eyes, but he sensed his frustration and worry.

"If you believe in God, don't you think that we've made a tremendous effort and that He is watching over us?"

"I do Rollo, but we're in a tight situation. What if the trail ends over the next hill? Then what?'

"See, you don't have faith that we are destined to succeed. _I really don't get that_. But maybe it's because you don't realize the profound importance of our mission. You see, it has always been prophesized that one of us, one of the descendants of Christ, will correct the wrongs that Rome has done by proving they corrupted His message. I feel it in my bones."

"Maybe I worry too much. Fair enough. I'll try to dispel my doubt. I'll have faith in you _and_ God." D'Aqs patted him on the shoulder. He noticed that Hellmantle flinched.

He spread out a map at his feet.

"If the trail holds we should hit the rolling foothills of the Sierra Madres and the main highway north to Aparri this morning. If the trail doesn't end, we could make good time."

"Why?" He looked at Hellmantle with puffy eyes.

"Because it's downhill. And when we hit the paved highway, riding will be quite crisp." Hellmantle constructed a betel nut in substitution for his morning coffee. Once it was complete he popped it into his mouth and chewed it until his saliva turned bright red.

"How can you chew that stuff?"

"Takes practice. Want one?"

"Maybe later."

"Later? I don't believe there is technically such thing as later. It might help you become impassioned and help _buoy_ your sagging spirit." He looked at the river with a glint in his eye.

"All right. But you need to engineer it for me." And Hellmantle did just that.

"Just keep it between your cheek and gums. It _seeps_ into through your gums, but whatever you do _don't swallow_. Spit the red juice out. Only when it breaks up and the taste has waned can you swallow a bit."

"Got it."

"And try to enjoy yourself out there today. This is fantastic riding."

D'Aqs managed to hold the betel nut in during the initial flood of bitter taste and spit out the juice. When they had packed up and ready to go his color had reddened.

Ω

They filled up with gas and left Mayayao on the trail hoping it wouldn't end. Arms and legs sore but the visual magic of rice terraces hidden deeply in the range eased the pain. Nagging pressures of time lay outside Hellmantle's immediate realm as he negotiated the line of the mud trail through small valleys and down winding slopes closer to sea level. Coming to a bridge with one of two wooden planks for tire tracks missing they were forced to balance precariously over the one-foot wide plank to get across. For D'Aqs this was a much more sensitive task due to his inexperience and injured clutch hand, He managed to cross with a scream to the heavens for help but when he reached the other side he had one leg up in the air to balance, running over a large stone that dislodged the direction of the bike. D'Aqs flew off his motorcycle and landed on a rock beside a tree. Hellmantle was unable to suppress his laughter but the sound of his engine covered his _schadenfreuden_. D'Aqs sat up grabbing his ribs.

"Are you-."Laughing too hard, Hellmantle stopped.

"My ribs." As Hellmantle laughed he knew riding a motorcycle with a broken rib or two was not a good situation to be in, so to curtail his bellowing he put another betel nut in his mouth.

"Ah, can't be that serious. You weren't going _that_ fast."

"I can't... _breathe_." Hellmantle dismounted to check his cousin's ribs. A slight indentation on his left side, a sure sign that two or three ribs were broken.

"Just don't breathe too deeply for now. Go slowly until we reach the highway and it should be better riding." D'Aqs moved very gingerly when he remounted his vehicle in obvious pain. When he began riding Hellmantle could hear his cries of anguish.

The sun overhead now very hot, after crossing the bridge they stopped on a crest of a hill where they saw a horizon of hills sprawling for miles as if anthills of pointed rock. Hellmantle pulled out his betel nut and made two, handing one to D'Aqs who took it without a word. They chewed and spat and knew that they would reach the highway going north to Aparri. For D'Aqs the vista looked like waves had been carved into rolling waves frozen on a rough sea of rock. It was too beautiful to breathe.

Hellmantle led the descent from the mountaintops through the valleys following rivers and crossing more decrepit bridges. Just as the sun was reaching the top of the sky he unexpectedly hit the paved road running north. Turning left without stopping, he rode the wide-open road with no cars to be seen. Stunned by the smoothness of the road, it was like riding along a carpet after the trail they had just traversed. He opened up the throttle to top gear rolling towards the Cagayan River, the rustic landscape empty like the road.

Hellmantle and his injured squire made excellent time through this no-man's land until they came to the first example of Spanish presence: a 16th-century church-fort. Both a church and fortification and still standing but without a roof, a rich rust-colored brick wall surrounded it with a side part that was likely barracks for soldiers. It was on the frontier of Spanish settlement from the north, like the settling of the American West coming from the Pacific. This colonial endeavor hit a barren and mountainous region too difficult to penetrate. Indicative of how the old colonial power built to both protect and worship even here in the forgotten outback of Philippines' northeast, it was an awesome and surreal in this frontier where local headhunters still practiced their traditions.

When they finally reached the huge Cagayan River, it was flooding over the shores overtaking shrubbery, trees half-submerged and the grassy plains covered with muddy water. Following this largest river in the Philippines they soon found another church beside the river that was like a fortified turret with a small chapel.

"Not quite a church is it?"

"But not quite a fort either," said D'Aqs.

"More like a small castle. Or a belfry with crenellations." Hellmantle wrapped another betel nut in a green leaf, sprinkled the white powder on the construction plus the mystery ingredient and then popped it into his mouth, twisting his nose.

"Yeah, sure, where Colonel Kurtz lived. And, while you've got your betel nut out, roll me up one will you?" He nodded and began to engineer a betel nut for D'Aqs. Plants of all kinds grew out of cracks between the stones, vegetation threatening its survival.

"This is the first Spanish piece built along the river. Must be the farthest point south up the mountains from the northern coast other than the other one we saw. Henceforth let's be on the lookout for any church in operation sporting a bell tower." He finished the betel nut and handed it to D'Aqs, who twisted his face into a tortured look.

"Ah!" He almost spat it out.

"Wait! Chew it for a minute and then you'll get the liquorices taste. It's okay actually, and it's a good balsam for riding pains."

"Good, because my ribs are sore, not to mention that cut on my hand." There were some things Hellmantle assumed others knew, and one of these things was that you were not to swallow the betel juice, but that was exactly what D'Aqs did, which promptly caused him to throw up. Of course Hellmantle couldn't help laughing at D'Aqs Grosseteste clutching his ribs and barfing. Almost fell off his motorcycle.

Once the bile was sufficiently expelled, D'Aqs gripped his throttle, revved his engine and took off ahead of him. Riding for ten minutes they encountered something very strange. On the riverbank hidden under thick foliage was an old stone pub. Its wooden sign hanging over the door was still intact. It read:

### Fumes & Bubbles

"An old Spanish pub!" Hellmantle yelled. "Still standing but lost and forgotten! Amazing! Probably built in the seventeenth century when these other church-forts were built. Think about that: two-hundred years before the French Revolution!" The weathered stone and simple layout beside the water was an ideal setting for cocktails. It was even relaxing to look at.

"Location of many drunken Spanish nights," said D'Aqs. "What a great name for a pub." His motorcycle creaked as it cooled down.

"I wonder how many people have ever seen this." No people or huts or farms for miles, it was as if it were built, used and then forgotten in its total isolation, waiting here patiently to tell its story to the intrepid traveler who found it. Ivy had overtaken the pub so the stone foundation from the road was barely visible. Hellmantle tried to get close to it but the foliage was like a wall full of hanging green snakes frozen in time. The stones were worn by rain and storms but the pub's foundation was still solid. Brush too thick for him to reach the glassless window, there was a marking on one of the stones that caught his eye.

"D'Aqs come here! There's something here I want you to see." He followed Hellmantle to a carved insignia beside the missing front door. Hellmantle took out his knife and hacked some of the vines away from the stone but couldn't get close enough to touch the stone because of the sheer volume of foliage.

"No!" D'Aqs yelled. "It couldn't be!" There was a carved cross in the stone they both recognized. "Yes, it is! It's the cross of the _Blonde Acquitaine!_ "

"What are the chances?"

"It's the same symbol on the letter from de Steward."

"Since we're here D'Aqs, at this relic of the past where such oaths to honor were discussed, I shall like to invite you to join our society, not because you have _earned_ it but because you are _entitled_ to it because you are a Hellmantle."

"I didn't know you were a member."

"Of course not. How would you? I'm aware that you are not yet initiated into the society, so telling you anything about the code will breach the secrecy laws of the society. But now, with the extreme unlikelihood of this coincidence, I can only interpret this as a sign from God and therefore offer you the opportunity to join our secret society."

"Okay." D'Aqs had heard of the society's existence but had never known anyone who was a member or had any contact with the group.

"Ready?"

"Yes."

"Okay. _Whom do you serve?_ "

" _I serve God_." Simply and calmly.

"Well, that was easier than usual. _Good answer_.

Such are they whom God chooses for himself and gathers from the furthest ends of the earth, servants from among the bravest in Israel to guard watchfully and faithfully his Sepulchre and the Temple of Solomon, sword in hand, ready for battle.

"A quote from our spiritual father who lived in Saint Sulpice. Experience is the only teacher for the man of adventure, for it is the true revealer of truths hidden in the paragraphs of endless history books. After all, the difference between hoping and having is doing. The Royal Society used our motto: _nullius in verba_ – _take nobody's word for it; see it for yourself_. But there is a cost for us men of experience. For the evolved, fitting in becomes a near impossibility. So a man of intelligence with a depth of empirical data must define his own category. A man who has evolved must always live on an island, or he must forever live in a castle surrounded by a moat cutting off all those who don't qualify for the key. Do you accept this fate?" D'Aqs understood the thrust of the agreement, giving it some thought before answering.

"Yes cousin, I do."

"In the famous words of the Duke of Burgundy many centuries ago:

You must adhere to our code of chivalry for the reverence of God and the maintenance of our Christian Faith, and to honor and exalt the noble order of knighthood, and also to do honor to old knights so that those who are at present still capable and strong of body and do each day the deeds pertaining to chivalry, shall have cause to continue from good to better; and so that those knights and gentlemen who have worn the order should honor those who wear it, and be encouraged to employ themselves in noble deeds."

With a warm smile, Hellmantle held out his hand. When D'Aqs shook it Hellmantle slipped him the grip and gave him a quick wink from the left eye. D'Aqs had now been initiated into the society and was now a brother.

"Remember, that now as a brother of the _Blonde Acquitaine_ , you are required to adhere to the _Code of Chivalry_ , and employ all the etiquette and respect to all those who deserved fair treatment. All those who do not exhibit _courage, justice, mercy, generosity, faith, nobility_ or _hope_ , merely represent obstacles in your way to achieving the quest so bestowed on the shoulders of all brothers: _finding the missing scroll_."

When D'Aqs smiled his teeth were red.

# Chapter 17

_Which relates to Hellmantle of Normandy reaching_

the northern coast and the rubble of Aparri

## Maharlika Highway, Cagayan Province

## כּ

With time becoming short, there were still no developments as to where the _Dutch Padre_ could be. Fatigue and pain fettered D'Aqs, and doubt shackled the concealed zeal he had been using to his advantage. Hellmantle however, was even more ebullient about the crusade and believed more fervently that their treasure was about to be unveiled. For D'Aqs it was exhilarating to be around a man of such resonant belief whose abandon was both a hazard and exaltation. Single-mindedness had never been so explicitly shown to the missionary before. Something about it bestirred him to action in the face of all practicality, aware that he would never be the same after this trip.

They had followed the road due north past the crossing point of the Cagayan River through a catena of small towns until darkness and fatigue hit them in Tuguegarao, where they stayed for the night. D'Aqs didn't move at all the entire night he was so physically depleted. Early the next morning Hellmantle spearheaded the way to Aparri on the northern tip of the Philippines, the location where the Japanese attacked a few days after Pearl Harbor. Hellmantle found more churches but most were dilapidated. The river levels were still deluging the road but they managed a good downhill clip until they saw seagulls and felt the sea breeze on their mugs. For Hellmantle, Aparri was a place he felt drawn to visit, like a trophy to grab, the farthest outpost of Spanish settlement on the northern island of Luzon that could house the church and the Dutch preacher. There were more vestiges of Spanish habitation the farther north they traveled until they reached Aparri.

D'Aqs was shocked at the carnage he saw. Like Berlin and Tokyo after the war, the Allies had bombed Aparri, but unlike Germany and Japan it had never been properly cleaned up. There was no Marshall Plan to rebuild the carnage that lay scattered at the mouth of the Babuyan Channel at the South China Sea. Instead the old part of town was rubble with squatters living in the ruins. It was easy to see how the area had once been beautiful where seagulls fed at the estuary and palm trees swayed in the wind. What struck D'Aqs the most was not the rusted iron scarp of blasted bridges or the mud-heaped wreckage, but rather the expressions on the people's faces like the unmistakable hatred in the eyes of the children who greeted them as they rode by. There were no friendly waves or smiles that had peppered their tour so far. Instead hostile looks of blame. Rather than feeling scared being stranded in the rain somewhere in the mountains after dark with no place to sleep, the greater fear was his machine breaking down in Aparri. D'Aqs felt like they were moving targets, as if someone might hop in their car and follow them, cut them off and rob them. Hellmantle was particularly conspicuous with his long blonde hair and beard. His helmet still dangled from the strap under his arm.

Hellmantle found the shell of the original church but it was a pile of stones and garbage. Having no operational Catholic churches in Aparri, they agreed to go west along the northern coast. As they left a boy on the side of the road spat at D'Aqs, the gob of spit hitting him in the face, which caused him a momentary loss of control of his motorcycle. Skidding, he almost wiped out on the pavement. Hellmantle heard the skidding and stopped.

"What happened?"

"A kid back there spat at me! He got me right in the face!" Hellmantle couldn't see the child but didn't itch to confront anyone in Aparri.

"Count yourself lucky. Bad vibe here. So _let's make like Wayne Gretzsky and get the puck outta here_." After wiping his face, but a bit slowly due to his broken ribs and hand grievance, D'Aqs carried on and followed his cousin west towards Laoag City.

Riding out of Aparri by backtracking to the bridge over the Cagayan River, it was D'Aqs who was haunted by hostility. Children and adults glared at him as he passed as if _he_ was part of the army who cankered their town. However, thinking about it as he rode west, he couldn't blame them for their bitterness. First the Spanish, then the Japanese and then the Americans, Aparri ended up with a flattened city with funds for reconstruction likely pocketed by local government officials. Left with nothing after doing nothing to deserve it, the havoc of war had destroyed their livelihood. Noteworthy since the Philippinos had been so friendly during their ride.

West of Aparri moving parallel with the sea, they covered mile after mile keeping their eyes looking ahead, trying not to provoke eye-to-eye contact with anyone who might feel they were trespassing on their land. Dennis Faustino's warning entered D'Aqs' mind. Not wanting to tempt fate, he was relieved to cross the Abulung River where they stopped at the first church along the northern coast. Down an empty road through small roadside villages that kissed the South China Sea, they saw the first functional Spanish church complete with bell tower in the town of Pamplona. Emitting a rusty hue as if sun-soaked, the church appeared to be made of burning brick, its two white-domed towers contrasting against the glow of the brick. It had the fortunate effect of calming D'Aqs' nerves.

"No services here," said Hellmantle, squinting. "No Dutch Man-of-the-Cloth."

"Just happy to be across the river."

"Aparri was an _anthill of hate_. And to think I have to be back in the office in forty-eight hours. We're about 800 kilometers from Manila"

"The roads are better now."

"The greatest thing in this world is not so much where we are, but in what direction we are moving," said Hellmantle.

"Wasn't that in the _Fortes In Fide et Amore?_ " There was a wink in that left eye of Hellmantle's.

"We can hit Laoag City tonight, and then tomorrow Vigan, which is supposed to be cooler than _Intramurous_ in Old Manila. Remember old man, the capacity of a second effort marks the difference between ordinary and extraordinary men. The mileage we had achieved has left us in a good position to take on the entire west coast during our last day of riding. We need to make it to Laoag today though. One must never count on anything until it is done, _n'est-ce pas?_ To quote an old Viking proverb:

Praise not the day until the evening has come; a woman until she is burnt; a sword until it is tried; a maiden until she is married; ice until it has been crossed; beer until it has been drank."

Back on the road fort-like churches with enormous flying buttresses built with seashell to withstand the strong ocean winds. Constructed with the sea in mind and weathered by typhoons from the ocean, these Spanish wonders of architecture were pieces of art despite their sacked façade. They had been plundered and their shells still stood in testament to their sound architectural design. Doors hung off crooked hinges below arches chipped from history left to the ravages of time.

When they arrived in the city of Laoag, D'Aqs felt a mixture of sadness and relief. Relieved to have reached a city where he was safe, he was equally sad that they had now left the on-the-edge adventure of the Cagayan and Apayao provinces of the north where tales of piracy and plunder and headhunting were still handed down in the big cities like Manila.

They settled in for the night but could hear a succession of loud explosions of firecrackers, both forgetting that it was New Year's Eve. Dirty, windblown, tired and starving for good food, the Merovingian cousins wolfed down dinner and a few beers and called it an early night, something Hellmantle hadn't done on a New Year's Eve since he was in his early teens.

Under the splash of fireworks in the sky that night Hellmantle had a dream. He was climbing a mountain but when he reached part way up he saw a massive turret-like fortress. It was made of stone with ramparts built in Spanish colonial architecture but he never reached it. He climbed almost to the top but he stood absorbed by the quality its workmanship. The land was rugged and cold with snow around jagged rock and waterfalls, becoming aware of all the nameless faces that had contributed to its construction. He saw dozens of faces including the Fathers Albert de Rheume and William Brasseur and Leo Vande Winkle. Their skin was dry and cracked from the wind and sun and their robes frayed around the edges. They each held a hammer and were walking past Hellmantle to highest tower at the pinnacle, their hardened features showing the signs of hard work and discipline. When they walked past him he took out his camera and tried to take a photo but it was so steep that he couldn't focus his zoom lens. He could only capture part of it. He had to lie on his back to capture only a glimpse of the tower that reached up to the heavens, standing out like an antenna that reached to the clouds. It was a fort that was totally safe with impregnable walls that used vertical distance as its moat, and it struck him that it was also the quintessential church since it was so close to God.

Hellmantle woke up before his 5:00am wake-up call.

"Only the devil's disciples sleep past sunrise," he said aloud in the darkness.

# Chapter 18

_About the final day of the motorcycle journey through Luzon_

and discussing the Ten Lost Tribes of Israel in Vigan

## Laoag City, Ilocos Norte Province

## ךּ

Hellmantle and his missionary cousin left Laoag for Manila in the dark riding due south. It was true that D'Aqs was now in quite a bit of pain with his ribs so he was slow in the morning whereas Hellmantle was almost manic. To lift his spirit, Hellmantle said to him:

"God favors us today _My Son!_ I had a dream last night that portends impending bounty! _I feel it_ so it must be so."

Hellmantle and the man with the broken ribs rode for a full hour and a half before the sun came up, by then they were well on their way to Vigan City. When they reached the city, it appeared as a fossil stuck in amber in a dried-up river. The old Spanish town had remained unaltered since Juan de Salcedo founded it in 1756. In front of some old storefronts were old wagon wheels still in place since the time of horse and buggy, carriageways and wooden doors and cobblestone roads just as they were nearly 250 years ago. In the old town two-story merchant houses that sold everything a colonial settler would need to establish themselves in their new land still functioned. With the main church and city hall laid out around a central park separating them in a well-proportioned urban plan, like a gem hidden in the rough, Vigan stood like a jewel along one of the greatest strips of real estate in the country.

He and D'Aqs rode to the church with a bell tower in the middle of town. It was both run-down and freshly painted, as if a coat of paint would protect this house of prayer against the ravages of the coast.

"The priest in charge of services is named Melvin Arinicqo," said D'Aqs, looking at the sign beside the entrance to the church. They both entered the calm and cool interior of the church, Hellmantle walking slowly in his motorcycle boots. A dozen people sat on pews with heads bowed, praying. A fresh wind blew across the benches through the open windows on either side of the church.

"See the portrait of Jacob?" D'Aqs nodded. "As you know, my _missionary cousin_ , Jacob's _the biggie_ ; the kingpin of the Bible."

"Yes, he was a biggie. The father of the Twelve Tribes of Israel. Jacob, grandson of Abraham and son if Isaac, was renamed _Israel_ by God."

"So you know how the _House of Judah_ and the _House of Israel_ , lineal descendants of the twelve sons of Jacob, split and then fought each other for two hundred years before the Assyrians conquered Palestine, led by Nebuchadnezzar?"

"Yes. Before the Diaspora. From a top-level down view, from the sons of Jacob sprang twelve tribes but under King David they were united and known as Israel. After the death of Solomon, Israel divided into two nations: one was the tribe of Judah who based themselves in Jerusalem became known as the House of Judah. These peoples became known as Jews. The ten northern tribes who rejected Solomon's son became known as the House of Israel. They had their capital in Samaria. Entire books in the Old Testament are dedicated to the power struggle between the House of Israel and the House of Judah. The ultimate division between these two houses happened in the Red Sea port of Elath (Kings II 16: 6-7). The House of Israel was overthrown by the Assyrian empire. They were led into captivity beyond the Tigris River and basically settled in the southwest of the Caspian Sea near the Caucuses.

"So then you know the _House of Israel_ in the northern kingdom consisted of the all of Jacob's descendants except the two tribes of Judah and Levy that make up the House of Judah. So the House of Israel gazelled from the Middle East in 683BC and settled mainly in Scythia, or modern-day Russia in the Caucasus. When they were in the Caucasus, I think around modern-day Georgia, they became known as _Caucasians_. From there they went mainly into northern Europe and Scandinavia and the British Isles. When the House of Israel fled from Palestine for southern Russia they were lost to history after that. That's why they are called _the Ten Lost Tribes of Israel_. They're were lost but now they have been _found!_ "

Hellmantle, manic in the eye, held up his hand and spoke thus:

"As you know Jesus' _primary thrust_ was to find his lost flock."

"You think that Jesus' primary thrust was to find his lost flock, which were the Ten Lost Tribes?"

"Certainly. Jesus says in Matthew 15:24: ' _I am not sent but unto the lost sheep of the House of Israel._ ' Jesus is the shepherd who is _gathering his lost flock_. This flock, of course, was the Ten Lost Tribes of Israel, or also called the 'House of Israel' in the Bible."

"I know this stuff Hellmantle."

"In Genesis it says Abraham was chosen to be the forefather of a nation through whom all the families of the earth would be blessed, but the whereabouts of the descendants of the House of Israel were lost. In the _Letter of James_ , for example, it says of him: ' _James, a servant of God and of the Lord Jesus Christ, to the twelve tribes which are scattered abroad, greeting_.' The letter, written by James the Disciple, is addressed to the twelve sons of Jacob, the primary family in the Bible. His _other primary thrust_ was to _unite the Twelve Tribes of Israel_ once more." Hellmantle was trying to whisper but his voice was so intense that it carried. People trying to pray stared at the two tall men standing in front of the portrait of Jacob.

"So?"

"So not only are we descendants of the Ten Lost Tribes of Israel, we also have the bloodline of Jesus. I'm interested _where_ Ten Lost Tribes of Israel went and where they are _now_. It's a worthy question and one so rarely asked. Yet this remains untaught to students of the Bible." D'Aqs, relaxing his posture and taking his hand to his chin reflected for a moment after hearing his Asperger cousin's summary, suddenly having clarity after the manic delivery and jerky hand movements. Distilled and threads connected that had been loose ends, he saw what he was saying, the canvas of his painting and deciphered a logic and underpinning to it all.

"Yes, okay. I can see that. We _are_ Israelites. Yes. How many hymns have I sang talking about the Israelites and I never thought they were only Judah and Levy. Going to the Caucasus after Palestine I've heard before but never the connection of the word Caucasian. The Scythians I've heard of too but didn't connect them to settling Europe. The northern Europeans and Scandinavians and people of the British Isles being where the Israelites settled makes sense to me too, especially that stuff about the lion and the unicorn and the red hand and the rampant lion."

"And the _Stone of Destiny_."

"That too. If Jesus had children there's certainly a lot of hype around our families to incline one to believe it. But yes, Jesus sought to gather his lost flock, the House of Israel that disappeared after the Assyrian conquest. The House of Judah is still in play and together with synagogues and adhering to the Law of the Torah as we had before we left. I suppose it's your presentation of all the information that frazzled me but I see it now."

"So then you are no longer my _doubting cousin?_ "

"I'm doubtful about a lot of things still but I'm seeing a ray of light in your overall view. I'm extremely skeptical about the Mormon story about the origin of the Red Man but I have to admit I've never done any reading on it." He put his hand on Hellmantle's shoulder expecting him to tense up. "Even if we don't find the Dutch preacher I can say I've come to know you better and your view of history. That's something of worth at least." Hellmantle broke away from his hand and spoke thus:

"But we shall find the _Padre!_ "

"We have today Hellmantle. I'd say our chances are pretty slim."

" _Oh ye of little faith_. A _minister_. The _irony_."

Just then they saw a young priest walking down the aisle, who didn't look Dutch. He smiled and then disappeared behind the chancel.

The cousins returned outside where sunny skies lured them back onto the road, riding south along the west coast towards Manila. The ride took on a feeling of reverie, passing town after town and church after church until they had passed through Santa Maria, Candon, Santa Cruz and San Juan. Most of the churches were derelict and disintegrating historical vestiges and some only colonial detritus. The road was busier but smoother than what they had had, so with Hellmantle out in front they made good time down the coast.

They stopped at a church with a big fort with colossal flying buttresses coming out of the walls to a second inner wall where there was a rather plain church. Hellmantle and D'Aqs climbed up the main stone steps through the outer wall and then up the wooden steps in the turret where Hellmantle popped a betel nut. From a hundred feet up, they could see their route south and the stretch of oceanfront that connected with the Bataan Peninsula.

"I reckon we have traveled two hundred kilometers so far," said Hellmantle, spitting the rich red juice out the window below. "And we have another 250 kilometers to Manila."

"But still no sign of the Dutch preacher and the map." In the wind that assailed them from a hundred feet up they could see the thin white line outlining the waves hitting the shoreline. Countless palm trees covered the land.

"Could you move your flight to Hong Kong forward?" D'Aqs asked him.

"No. But it wouldn't be good form anyway. We gave ourselves enough time to make it around the island. We've seen two-dozen churches and no Dutch preacher, but to take more time would be to fail, or like changing the rules mid-game. If we don't find what we need to know then that's God's way of saying that it was not meant to be. But I believe we will prevail as all the signs are in play. It's been an honest effort so far. That's the most important thing."

"Reaching Manila from so far north seems unrealistic."

"With you now, having taken the vows to chivalry and the _Blonde Acquitaine_ , how can we fail? Belief is half the battle when it comes to achievement!"

"OK, that's fair. I understand what you're saying. Good policy."

Despite his belief of the impending failure of the task to find the church, D'Aqs savored the view from the turret.

"The fate of the journey hangs in the balance but, I don't know about you and your ribs, but I am going to enjoy the ride no matter what." He could see that D'Aqs was down in the mouth, either from his injuries or from despair at failure to find the church and the Dutchman, so he pointed to a church far on the horizon to bolster his spirits.

"See that lone church on the horizon that stands like a twin-towered castle with the classic Spanish architectural flourish?" He nodded and stared in amazement at the dreamlike image.

"Quite a piece that one." It was like a cream-colored house of God shining a light from the middle of its center pillar as if beckoning them to go there on their motorcycles.

"See, it's a Holy Quest," said Hellmantle because the entire structure of the cloud formation above the church showed a light shining from behind a cascading dark mass. The sky revealed God's den above as if His own hand had selected this Spanish church near the end of the peninsula. White fingers of lightning flashed down to the cross above the five arches.

"Marvelous fortune my brave squire! Perhaps God has slipped through the crevice of time and His divine spirit resides in omnipresence at that church." He nodded in silence, enjoying the beauty of the sky.

"There's something there we must see," said D'Aqs, They walked back to their motorcycles and rode south along the ocean. Hellmantle passed more and more villages with more people at the side of the road waving at the two helmetless, fair-haired cousins go by. Dogs and children amid indigenous tumbleweeds and dust soon became a hindrance running out on the road just before the sun started to set. It was also at this time when they saw a little shack built in a tree. Soon there were clusters of tree houses at the side of the road. Squat, wide-branched trees held tree houses where families lived. For fifty miles the land was swampy so tree houses made of wooden planks had been built. The people had not cut down hardly any of their trees.

"Tree houses!" he screamed from ahead of D'Aqs. It was just after the tree houses when Hellmantle and D'Aqs arrived at a town named Agoo. Once the center of Catholicism of Colonial Spain, the church was in the center of town with a red-trimmed hue around the corner stones as if it had magical power. Hellmantle parked his motorcycle beside the church and they walked to the Agoo Basilica, their legs rubbery from the miles of riding.

# Chapter 19

_About the sermon given in Agoo Basilica and what they find_

at the church with the rouge bell tower

## Agoo, La Union Province

## יּ

Great murals and paintings of the saints adorned the walls, pews packed to the limit so people stood in the main doorway. The first church on the journey that hadn't been looted, Hellmantle imagined the churches they had seen adorned with paintings and neat with shellacked wood carved by skilled hands before the plundering. But the beauty of Agoo Basilica, its symmetry of parts, saddened him because it brought to mind that sackers had stolen so much. The organ, the vestments, and even the priests' robes were so full of the Holy Spirit that his sadness, magnified by exhaustion, made his heart leap up to his throat.

They stood at the doorway listening to the priest, who they could barely see, but the voice was strong and triumphed over ceiling fans above the arches. The sermon went like this:

"The word of the Lord came to me again: 'What do you see?' And Jeremiah answered: 'I see a boiling pot, tilting away from the north.' The Lord said: 'From the north disaster will be poured out on all who live in the land. I am about to summon all the peoples of the northern kingdoms,' (Jeremiah [1:13-14]). God remembers when their faith was like a bride, and says: 'Hear the word of the Lord, O house of Jacob, all you clans of the House of Israel.'

"'The House of Israel had become a corrupt and wild vine. But O faithless Israel is more righteous than unfaithful Judah.' You may ask who are the Twelve Tribes of Israel, the twelve sons of Jacob, son of Isaac and grandson of Abraham? All these are the twelve tribes of Israel, and this is what their father said to them when he blessed them, giving each the blessing appropriate to him:

Around Jacob's deathbed he calls forth his twelve sons:

Gather around so I can tell you what will happen to you in the days to come.

Assemble and listen, sons of Jacob;

Listen to your father Israel.

_Reuben_ , you are my firstborn,

My might, the first sign of my strength,

Excelling in honor, excelling in power.

Turbulent as the waters, you will no longer excel,

For you went up onto your father's bed,

Onto my couch and defiled it.

_Simeon_ and _Levi_ are brothers –

Their swords are weapons of violence.

Let me not enter their council,

Let me not join their assembly,

For they have killed men in their anger

And hamstrung oxen as they pleased.

Cursed be their anger, so fierce,

And their fury, so cruel!

I will scatter them in Jacob

And disperse them in Israel.

_Judah_ , your brothers will praise you;

Your hand will be on the neck of your enemies;

Your father's sons will bow down to you.

You are a lion's cub, O Judah;

You return from the prey, my son.

Like a lion he crouches and lies down,

Like a lioness – who dares to rouse him?

The scepter will not depart from Judah,

Nor the ruler's staff from between his feet,

Until he comes to whom it belongs

And the obedience of the nations is his.

He will tether his donkey to a vine,

His colt to the choicest branch;

He will wash his garments in wine,

His robes in the blood of grapes.

His eyes will be darker than wine,

His teeth whiter than milk.

_Zebulun_ will live by the seashore

And become a haven for ships;

His border will extend toward Sidon.

_Issacher_ is a rawboned donkey

Lying down between two saddlebags.

When he sees how good is his resting place

And how pleasant is his land,

He will bend his shoulder to the burden

And submit to forced labor.

_Dan_ will provide justice for his people

As one of the tribes of Israel.

Dan will be the serpent by the roadside,

A viper along the path,

That bites the horses' heels

So that its rider tumbles backwards.

I look for your deliverance, O Lord.

_Gad_ will be attacked by a band of raiders

But he will attack them at their heels.

_Asher_ 's food will be rich;

He will provide delicacies fit for a king.

_Naphtali_ is a doe set free

That bears beautiful fawns.

_Joseph_ is a fruitful vine,

A fruitful vine near a spring,

Whose branches climb over a wall.

With bitterness archers attacked him;

They shot at him with hostility.

But his bow remained steady

His strong arms stayed limber,

Because of the hand of the Mighty One of Jacob,

Because of the Shepherd, the Rock of Israel,

Because of your father's God, who helps you,

Because of the Almighty, who blessing you

With blessings of the heavens above,

Blessings of the deep that lies below,

Blessings of the breast and womb.

Your father's blessings are greater

Than the blessings of the ancient mountains,

Than the bounty of the age-old hills.

Let all these rest on the head of Joseph,

On the brow of the prince among his brothers.

_Benjamin_ is a ravenous wolf;

In the morning he devours the prey,

In the evening he divides the plunder.

"Book of Genesis, chapter 49, verses 2 to 28." The priest paused. The silence was filled with shuffling and coughing.

"'But God sent me ahead of you to preserve for you a remnant on earth and to save you as a great band of survivors.' Genesis 45, 7." Bless thee, thy word of God. _Amen_."

The organ music started for three hymns before the people departed. At the stroke of six the first ring of the bell, a loud speaker from the bell tower blared soothing music of divine choir voices with a strong voice preaching the Word of God. In the center of town beside the bustle of the main road, everyone stopped moving to listen. Even Jeepneys stopped. Like the voice of God coming from above, people stood in solemn respect for the divine word while the rouge bell tower struck six chimes.

Hellmantle watched the white-haired priest greet his flock in front of the lectern when suddenly the priest looked at him. His eyeglasses reflected light from overhead chandeliers but Hellmantle saw his head lift slightly. Eerily, it was the same face he had seen in his dream.

The priest walked towards them at the doorway. Difficult not to notice, they stood head and shoulders above most Philippinos in the church.

"Good you could make it," he said. Hellmantle detected an accent but not the country of origin. "Come from Manila?" His eyes piercing as if sharpened by the glare of the sea.

"Yes, from Manila. Though we motorcycled here from the north," replied Hellmantle.

"The north? Vigan?" his voice wispy and dry after the sermon.

"We went through Banaue and across to Sierra Madres to Aparri and over to Laoag and _then_ Vigan." The priest looked closer at the two of them. Hellmantle noticed that the priest's nose was as crooked as an oak branch.

"Why would you do that, son?" Hellmantle could now see the clear eyes behind the glasses.

"We're looking for a Dutch priest who once knew _Dane Hellmantle_ ," said Hellmantle. "Dane Hellmantle was a Legionnaire who fought in _Dien Bien Phu_." Startled, his reflex was to take both of them by the arm out to a sheltered patio beside the church near the back away from a crowd of people standing around them. The three of them were out of sight through an old corridor.

# Chapter 20

_Concerning the Dutch Padre and what he knows about the hidden map_

## טּ

"You know Dane Hellmantle?"

"I'm his grandson. Roland Hellmantle is my name." Eyes widened, reached for his hand. Lines from nowhere when his face crumpled into a warm smile.

"I am Father Leo Vande Winkle," voice grave. "And I have been waiting a very long time to hear from a Hellmantle." On the stone bench he put his hands on his thighs shaking his head, perspiration from the sermon on his forehead. He looked at D'Aqs with eyes that held a question.

"I'm his cousin."

"And he's an Anglican minister who was a missionary in Burma," added Hellmantle. A nod that was perhaps an international wink between all missionaries, acknowledging pain and chronic obstacles to overcome in foreign lands teaching the _Good News_ to those thirsting for the hearth of wisdom.

"You preached in Sayangan?" Surprise crossed his face. "We stopped off there for a night and saw your name on the board listing missionaries who preached there at the church."

"You took your motorcycles up the _Halseema Trail?_ " He spoke as a man, not as an out-of-reach priest. "That must have been something!"

"He's an experienced rider," said D'Aqs.

"You knew my grandfather?" Discomfort from compliments, eyes darting to the ground.

"I sure did. I met him when I was in Hanoi in the early fifties," reaching into his memory bank. "There was an important center for the church there in Hanoi when the French were still in power then. While I was there I found time to unwind from the heat, and that was when I met your grandfather in the _Café D'Artistes_. Your grandfather was a real live wire." He chuckled. "He loved to sing his war songs from the Legion when he drank too much." His brow darkened. "He died August 24th, 1954, I can remember: the second last day of fighting." Father Leo Vande Winkle was quiet for a moment. "Everything changed after that. Everything. That was the end of colonial rule in Vietnam."

"Did he ever say anything to you about a map?" Hellmantle glanced at D'Aqs, and licked his cracked lips.

"Yes, _the map_. It was like a Holy Quest for him. I think that's why he confided in me as a newly ordained priest back then coming from Holland. He told me about a map he buried, in case he was ever killed." Standing up he faced them both squarely. "I always wondered about what he told me because I never heard from anyone after that. I half assumed that someone else had found the map, a fellow Legionnaire for example, and that my responsibility for keeping his secret was forgone. I do know one thing though: he cared about what he told me because he _believed_ in it." He studied the mud-covered dirt bikes by the curb. "You've come looking for me, haven't you?"

"Yes."

"How far?" Expression of guilt.

"About a thousand kilometers or so," Hellmantle replied, dust dried on his face, chest puffed proudly, chin jutting outwards. Hellmantle wanted to tell the Dutchman how great the trail biking had been, but he refrained.

"I am grateful you have come to unburden my shoulders with this message, which I hope is some source of religious significance. I recall from the _Great Dane_ , as he immodestly referred to himself, that the map had something to do with finding an original scroll from Jesus' ministry. Of course as a Catholic priest I could never entertain these ideas, but we were the same age and we both had a passion for religion and history." They both nodded, and D'Aqs was surprised to see the same brief blink in his left eye that Hellmantle had given him when he became a _Blonde Acquitaine_. Without thinking, both Hellmantle and D'Aqs winked back. He was only looking at Hellmantle so D'Aqs' wink went unnoticed. The Padre's head bowed, and then he sighed.

"One night your grandfather said that he planned to bury a map that he had found from a fellow soldier. I thought it was all exaggeration, especially since he was so fond of French grape juice. Personally, I always thought he could have done with a little more understatement."

"All Hellmantles love red wine!" His outburst made him regard Hellmantle with more caution. Realized his grandson didn't look at him in the eyes.

"Yes, well, he said a French prison was the most secure place for the map. I think he suspected that the French days were numbered and that the prisons would remain regardless of who won the war."

"What did he say?" asked Hellmantle, now sounding impatient.

"The _Great Dane_ said the map was a route to a document relating to the New Testament. He suspected agents of Catholic Rome would find out and catch him, so to hedge against this possibility he told a stranger. His choice was an open-minded man of the cloth, which happened to be me. So he told me his secret as a backup in case he should fall." Suddenly Leo Vande Winkle looked around suspiciously, as if by reflex, and then directed Hellmantle and D'Aqs back to where he kept his vestments and religious regalia, a table and chairs near a basin beside a closet. A portrait of Jesus hung prominently on the wall.

"So what did he say?" Hellmantle nearly exasperated.

"He told me that if ever a Hellmantle found me I was to tell them that the map is _buried in the east tower at the prison lying at the mouth of four rivers behind the inscribed stone and hidden by an oak_."

D'Aqs was stunned but Hellmantle didn't miss a beat.

"Did he say where that is?"

"Sorry, My Son. I only remember the map to be at this prison, an old French colonial, in the east tower where four rivers meet. I think there's some inscription hidden by an oak tree."

"Vague," said Hellmantle, "but _some_ thing."

"I am old now, and too old to look for such a place. Besides, the _Great Dane_ said it was for his son to find the map, not I. I should be retired but I wanted to remain here just in case the _Great Dane's_ son or grandson would sooner or later find me teaching here in Agoo. I had to be here to hand off this message. Now that that is done, I can carry out my days in peace knowing it has come full circle and the two dots have been connected. I know not what it means or what can come of it, but I am honored to have done this for a loyal friend. Compassion is the foundation of humanity." Hellmantle's eyes showed him to be engaged in rapid calculations and in thought, so it was D'Aqs who replied:

"Thank you Father," he said, bowing slightly. "Compassion is the foundation of humanity."

"Come, let's have some tea." He filled a kettle with water and lined up three clean mugs neatly in a row.

"His beard was just like yours, if I remember correctly," he said to Hellmantle.

"I never met him. What was he like?"

"Your granddad, _Dane from Normandy_ as I always called him, was like a knight errant who spoke proudly of his family tree and his exploits around the world in search of justice and religious truth. But he spoke of Thomas the Disciple the most. He was fixated on the idea that Thomas was the identical twin of Jesus. It was his favorite topic. But I have a feeling that was because he had lost his identical twin when he was a young child."

"My grandfather had an identical twin?"

"He told me once over drinks in Hanoi his brother died only a few years into life but when he drank too much he used to tell me of these images and fragments of memory of his brother."

"Do you remember his name?" The _Padre_ , solemn, shook his head.

"He never spoke his name out of respect." D'Aqs pointed at the portrait above the kettle.

"Doubting Thomas," he said. "Also named Jude Thomas. Some say it was the brother of our Savior."

"Yes. Have you heard of this theory of Thomas the Twin? That Jesus had a twin brother?" Hellmantle nodded like a connoisseur, but D'Aqs shook his head slowly, encouraging the Dutch priest to keep talking.

"The name 'Thomas' actually means 'twin.' The other instances in the four gospels where he is mentioned he is referred to as 'Thomas Didymus.' The word _Didymus_ actually means 'twin' as well, so 'Didymus Thomas' means ' _twin of twin_.' I think 'Thomas' is Hebrew for twin and 'Didymus' is Greek for twin. We know that Jesus had brothers named James and Jude and perhaps more, but within the cannon of gospels known to scholars, Thomas is also referred to as 'Jude Thomas,' particularly in the Gospel of Thomas discovered this century."

"You have _The Gospel of Thomas_?"

"Yes I do Rolland. Hard to find aren't they?"

"Indeed they are _Padre_."

"We know that Jesus had brothers: James and Jude, and with Thomas referred to as Jude Thomas in many of the gospels within the cannon known to scholars. But there is a line in the Acts of Thomas, from the Gospel of Thomas, that says: "Twin brother of Christ, apostle of the Most High and fellow initiate into the hidden word of Christ, who dost receive his secret sayings..." Hellmantle stared at the portrait of Thomas and scratched his chin. The _Padre_ handed them both a mug of tea.

"What was the Dane's interest in Thomas?" D'Aqs asked, intrigued.

"He thought that Jesus survived the crucifixion and went to India where Thomas, his identical twin brother, was living and preaching somewhere in Kashmir Valley." Hellmantle showed no surprise in his demeanor but D'Aqs' face was shock.

"The Son of God had a twin brother?"

"There is no dispute about the fact that Thomas went into Asia Minor and died in northern India," said Hellmantle. "It's been documented." The dust and dried debris on Hellmantle's face caused Father Vande Winkle to laugh.

"But I am a Catholic priest and I should not speak of Jesus surviving the crucifixion. It is only what we discussed when we were both in Hanoi. I only share my thoughts with you in honor of _Dane from Normandy_ who unites us now nearly forty years after his untimely death." A great silence followed his words until the mosquitoes came out when darkness fell.

Full of providential zeal, Hellmantle, impatient, said goodbye to Father Vande Winkle and they throttled their way through the remaining towns along the west coast, aware that they were fulfilling a holy pilgrimage on the first day of the New Year. Battling traffic on the outskirts of the metropolis of Manila, they reached the city by 2:00am. Hellmantle and D'Aqs had ridden for almost twenty-four hours on their final day. For the final few hours, D'Aqs began to sway from fatigue, saved only by the momentum of two-wheeled balance and perhaps by the will of God.

# Chapter 21

_About the return to Manila and the coup that causes_

the Great Man from Normandy grief

## Manila, Philippines

## זּ

It is here in the narrative that a newly found source of information sheds new light on what happened to the fair explorer from Normandy and his loyal cousin D'Aqs when they returned to the capital Manila. Upon waking up to the honking of horns from taxis and motorcycles outside, Hellmantle prepares to return his rented motorcycle before his departure for Hong Kong in the afternoon but he is informed by the concierge that the airports are closed due to a impending coup. He asks the front desk to double check to see if the airports are open or not, and it is confirmed that the airport is closed and all flights leaving the country are halted. The concierge says he will notify him when he hears the airport is open again. Strangely it doesn't ruffle Hellmantle since it is out of his control and is in the hands of Fate. In fact he regards it as symbolic since the information he might bring to light will also cause a coup or sorts.

For our purposes recounting his exploits, how he spends the day remaining in Manila waiting for the opening of the airport shows the extent of his neuroses from his Aspergers Syndrome coming out in full force. Primary characteristics of which include an inherent lack of empathy with others, obsessive behavior and his all-absorbing interest in a single topic.

Hellmantle called an old friend in Manila who told him he was just informed by his boss that a coup as immanent. He knocked on D'Aqs door to tell him the airports are closed.

"D'Aqs, have you heard about the situation?"

"Um, no. What situation?" D'Aqs was looking worn out and he was still favoring his broken ribs.

"The political situation here in Manila. My friend who lives here said that there may be a coup today."

" _A coup?_ You can't be serious." Posture slouched, winded by the news.

"I don't think your flight will be leaving today. My buddy said the airport is closed. The political turbulence is pretty severe." For a moment D'Aqs forgot where he was and what city could possibly put him in this situation.

"Well, we should return the motorcycles soon before there is any potential violence."

"Or we could keep them for one more day and explore Manila. The passion to explore should never be squashed by fatigue!" Obsessive behavior blinded him to the physical pain D'Aqs was in, and perhaps caused him to engage him with the idea of even more exploring on the bikes. Reluctantly, with his ribs still hampering his breathing, D'Aqs followed suit and soon they were out in the hot sun and the congested streets of Manila.

As an experience rider, Hellmantle led the way practicing what he called _bike hugging_ : finding a main waterway and then following the road that ran alongside the river down to the sea. In doing this here in Manila, D'Aqs discovered that there was no shoreline per se. Where the water ended and the shacks began, there was only blackened garbage. The water was a thick soupy black color that showed no signs of a current despite being a mile from the ocean.

Dodging dragonflies, the cousins reached a dead end with only a path leading to this inland bay where there were a dozen bamboo shacks built on sand that was always wet from the changing of the tides. But what he saw on the shore defied description: plastic bags, plastic barrels and plastic netting, Styrofoam packaging, chopsticks and bottles, garbage bags and light bulbs, sandals and teapots, broken down motorcycle and aerosol cans, rope and pieces of manmade wood products, pop cans and shoes, broken chairs and gasoline containers, steel drums and foam, beer cans and whiskey bottles, jars and scooter tires, plastic buoys and the defleshed carcass of a dog, lighters and plastic cartons, garbage pails and helmets, broken flashlights and broken signs, dead fish and fishing line, window shutters and abandoned bags, paint cans and feces, fishing lures and coconuts, empty beer cases and decrepit fans, juice containers and cigarette packs, broken mugs and oil cans, dishwashing detergent and Slurpee cups, assorted pieces of ratty clothing and empty water bottles. This was just the tip of the iceberg. The smell was a combination of rot and salt water and sewage.

Still moving forward, they passed churches packed to the limit. People stood at the end of pews where doorways opened to the courtyards. The priest sang in Latin as the entire group repeated what they heard. Despite the hardships and squalor, the country truly had a Christian soul.

Hellmantle found a café where they relaxed and had a coffee. In front of the café at the intersection was a sign that read:

### HELP GOOD COPS STAY GOOD

"So _Vander Poodle_ said it was buried in the east tower at the prison lying at the mouth of four rivers behind the inscribed stone and hidden by an oak."

"That sounds about right."

"So then I guess I'm going to Vietnam."

"You're going to northern Vietnam to look for an old French prison with an oak tree? Is that right?"

"It looks like that. I'm not going to telephone around. Best to _be there_ and _look_."

Outside there was tension in the air. There were only a few people on the streets.

"You never knew your grandfather had a twin brother?"

"Never. It was never mentioned."

"They say having twins skips a generation." A television at a makeshift kiosk on the corner of the street broadcasted the coup live. The announcer said in English:

" _The Quiet Revolution_ , as it is being called, began when _Erap_ secured an 11-to-10 vote against opening incriminating evidence from the bank. This triggers People Power Two. The hundreds of thousands of people here demonstrating at EDSA Shrine in the aftermath of half of _Erap's_ cabinet resigning promptly followed by the military chiefs. _Erap_ sneaks away from the hangman's noose on the President's barge down the Pasig River with his loyal and wealthy cronies."

The television showed images of Vice President Gloria Arroyo standing beside a five-star general and the point man of the movement, Orlando Fernandez. Tanks surrounded the palace and it looked like for a moment no one knew who was now in charge. _Erap_ has lost the support of the army. It appeared as if he had dropped the ball and now the Vice President had been sworn in as new chief.

"He slips out like a thief in the night," said Hellmantle.

"I like it how he is now calling his defense ' _our peace offensive_.' Interesting combination of words: _peace offensive_. That's a good one."

"They say he made out with eight million in bribes and kickbacks from a gambling racquet, and another three million in personal funds."

They decided to go to the _Makati Sports Club_ , the private club where Hellmantle was once a member. He said it had reciprocal privileges with the _Foreign Correspondent's Club of Hong Kong_ , where he was currently a member. It was late when they get there so they went to the snack bar where there were two men sitting at one of the tables.

"So what are you going to do? Ride around north Vietnam until you find a prison and east tower and an inscribed stone behind an oak?" D'Aqs trying to clearly define the next step.

"Pretty much I'd say."

"Well that's a bit extreme, don't you think?"

"And what, my good sir, is not extreme about the trip we just completed?"

"One is a human being we're finding and the other is a document you're digging for. It's different."

"Both missions are holy and therefore possible. How many prisons can there be with an east tower near _Dien Bien Phu?_ " It was when he was mulling over this question when they both became acutely aware of the other two men in the snack bar. One man was taking notes in a notebook while the other spoke with vigor. It was only when he looked in their direction that they recognized Orlando Mercado, the point man in the coup who was just on television at the EDSA Shrine. His shirt stuck to his chest with sweat from the coup.

Hellmantle kicked D'Aqs foot under the table.

"That's Orlando Mercado, the Secretary of State, who was the chap who resigned on Friday as the chief of the military defectors. He was the guy at the EDSA Shrine." Fair skinned with pudgy cheeks, his shirt was still wet with sweat from the coup.

"I thought it was him." And so they listened:

"I was worried about bloodshed," said Orlando Mercado. "I had heard that they were going to call in the marines and that the PSG would fight back. The President called me in. Without the Americans the arena would be empty and we'd be in suspended animation. And suspended animation is a vacuum to bloodshed. In fact I've resigned my position but we've been instructed by the newly appointed President Arroyo to hold our positions. I thought it was such a waste that such a President who was the hero of the poor would go out in such a way." Hellmantle and D'Aqs looked at each other and then looked down at the floor as if in thought.

"Well, that will be determined by the courts," said the reporter.

"I think it's amazing that such peaceful power can topple an immoral President."

"Bad spirits will be felt if Estrada stayed in."

"Not like you wake up one morning and say 'this is going to happen today.' It needs to be triggered. Not to say names but some senators started to move towards..."

"...either rig the vote or suffer the consequences."

"It's not like I convinced him," he said to the interviewer with the recorder. "Oh Jesus, there were attempts but I was always arguing."

"Sir, after what time did you decide?" asked the reporter.

"After watching the rally. There was a move to oust him, it looked like _Erap_ was in a lapse. It wasn't a quick, decisive move. It was myself and the entire administration. I didn't mention it to the Vice President."

"Why should she give up the presidency that was there? It wasn't so much political, or to satisfy the poor, it was a question of tearing apart society."

"If it's one thing we've learned from all this, all politicians dream of becoming number one in the country, but I think it's wrong to let the presidency be beyond the reach of the law and objectives of his office, so you can do anything. This experience was a near-death experience. There's only one thing you have to think about: survival. Because death is all around. There were attempts-"

"But you were unaware of Duarte?" Mercado was silent for a moment. "How would you describe your relationship with senator Duarte?"

"Well, we met and became good friends. There's an election coming up. I can do anything. I can get a teaching job at the university."

"How did they welcome you?"

"Ah, they said: 'Welcome back, welcome home.' They knew I was on their team. Again, it goes back to Marcos... Actually, there are people who have fallen that we don't remember. You're too young to know about the perfume scandal. You know Jimmy Carter was not a great president but he is one of the best ex-presidents in American History. When you're done in office, it shouldn't mean you run away. I did not make any deals. I don't have a crystal ball. _When you go trip through dark places, you're never clean when you walk out of it."_

It's about then that the Secretary of State - the man who stood beside the General of the Army and the new President of the Philippines, Gloria Arroyo, only hours ago, caught wind that the two foreigners at the next table were eavesdropping on him. They stood up to go but Hellmantle bolted out of his seat, cut Mercado off from walking out of the snack bar beside the pool, and said to him thus:

"Mr. Secretary of State," said Hellmantle full of bluster. "Having lived here in your fair country and having seen the wrongs and corruption perpetrated by your once beloved movie star _el Presidente Erap_ , may I shake your hand for upholding the principles of justice, fair play and serving God." He put out his hand but Mercado was too flabbergasted to take it. "For in your courageous actions you may have prevented a bloody civil war and strife, which this country has seen all too often. Too many times have I found myself standing with clenched fists hoping for a politician with integrity to step out of the shadows to make a stand against abuse of power and the _bending_ of law here on _King Phillip's Island!_ So you, sir, deserve a warm handshake indeed for your bravery and dignity. _I salute you sir!_ " He stretched out his hand again to a bewildered and skeptical Orlando Fernandez, who looked at D'Aqs sitting wide-eyed like him, watching. A subtle nod from D'Aqs to the Secretary of State communicated that the bearded man in front of him was half mad. So relaxing the frown on his face, Mercado shook Hellmantle's hand but was promptly hugged. The Man from Normandy patted him on the shoulder as they separated, and said:

"Sir, you give me comfort knowing there are still _men of principle_ in government no matter if it's Hong Kong, Mexico or the Philippines. It inspires obedience to the Scriptures and it gives me faith in humanity. _Thou shall not steal_. You have provided me with the glimmer of hope I have thirsted for many years, and I will remember always your fidelity to reason, adherence to the Ten Large Ones from Moses and _your backbone_ to fight what can only be regarded as the evil in man!"

Realizing he must leave before this bearded foreigner spoke more gibberish, Orlando Mercado nodded at Hellmantle and D'Aqs, and then left the snack bar followed by the reporter. Hellmantle was serious when he spoke thus:

"Don't you see?" he said to D'Aqs.

"No. I don't see."

"It is a _sign from God_. The change of regime is symbolic of the changes we will cause from our most significant discovery. We have found the _Dutch Padre_ so we have now confirmed the legend to be true. We are now armed with enough information to take our Holy Quest to the next level. We are on course to change history, just like what has happened tonight here in Manila. God is showing us that our discovery will be akin to a regime change at the highest level. Have faith my dear cousin that our destiny will be such that we shall be remembered for all time."

### THIRD PART

## Ω

# Chapter 22

_Which brings Hellmantle of Normandy back to Hong Kong_

to re-evaluate the next step in his quest for truth

## Lamma Island, Hong Kong, China

## ﬠ

After riding out the coup in the Philippines and listening to the Secretary of State about the plot to overthrow the President telling his story to a trusted reporter, Hellmantle and D'Aqs made it back to Hong Kong and immediately organized a dinner with Jack Grosseteste in Kowloon Tong to discuss their discovery. The get together was planned for the following weekend so D'Aqs used the time to let his ribs mend and the cut on his clutch hand to heal, and was thrilled when Catharine called him. Her interest was sincere and she planned to visit him in Hong Kong. He could think of nothing else, while Hellmantle ignored his duties at the magazine and threw himself into Holy Grail research. He was in a fever now and was now gathering the pertinent information required to crack it all wide open, so the night before his dinner with his uncle he invited D'Aqs over to compare notes.

Smoke, the waft of stale beer, heavy diesel fumes and faint body odor mixed with cheap cologne was what D'Aqs smelled with every breath on the ferry from Hong Kong Island to Lamma Island. He was on his way to Lamma to visit Hellmantle. It was his first visit to his place and first time to Lamma Island.

When he arrived D'Aqs could immediately understand Hellmantle's thinking for living here. To exist among the noise and pollution of cars, and the endless corridors of concrete was something Hellmantle didn't want so he had elected to live on Lamma Island: a small southern island with no streets or vehicles or high-rises, only fifteen minutes away by water from one of the most expensive cities in the world. It was an oasis of South Pacific peace, un-infringed upon by oppressive laws and subtle manifestations of rat-race oppression. It was a satellite expatriate colony where the enforcement of law was lax. Some called it a hippie colony, but to D'Aqs it was a rocky island with sandy beaches and small villages and laidback cafes. Lamma Island was Aldous Huxley's Greenland in a world gone mad. And it was on Lamma Island where Hellmantle had found his home. It was the only place where he could live. Poisonous snakes and pancake-size spiders didn't seem to bother him.

The thick aroma of blooming Jasmine tweaked his olfactory radar as D'Aqs passed under white nettles that kicked out the rotting stench of decaying sea life hanging on the shores on his way to the small village of _Pak Kok_. Hellmantle lived on a rock cliff surrounded by bamboo shoots. He was happy to have crossed the choppy waters of Aberdeen Channel.

D'Aqs found himself out on Hellmantle's balcony beside the sea listening to the birds and swatting beetle-sized mosquitoes. He tried not to judge but he had never seen a messier apartment. Aspergers manifest. Books scattered, ashtrays overflowing, dust in the corners, sink with mould, papers all over the place and discarded clothes everywhere, the balcony was the only spot that was clean. Even the guest room was a mess. With Hellmantle busy on the telephone, he took the electric-stringed mosquito racquet from the chair to defend himself against the mosquitoes. Popular here with the Chinese, it had a strong electric current running through the metal strings that singed the mosquitoes when you hit them. He had seen his share of Asian mosquitoes before, but indigenous Lamma Island mosquitoes were so big they bounced off the charged strings. Instead of _swatting_ them he _scooped_ them into the racquet face thereby electrocuting the plump mosquitoes between the wires. At first there was smoke, the singing of a wing and the initial struggle to get away from the electrocution. But the racquet had to be manipulated with enough technique to hold the malaria-carrying insect pinned against the strings moving towards him. First the wing separated from the body with a spark, then came a burst of smoke when the wing caught fire, and then a few more sparks rendered the insect severely wounded, burning but alive, in a burnt-wing crucifixion. After a few snaps of orange and the smell of smoke, the torso of the deadly mosquito finally exploded. It wasn't the exploding body that startled him; it was the sound. A bang was accompanied by a flash and dark slow-rising foul-smelling smoke. The crispy remnants of the aggressor party disintegrated into momentary confetti. Only a few dangling bodies stuck on the strings.

It didn't bother him because he regarded it as self-defence, but the thought he would always carry the dormant mosquito larvae in his liver that came to life every seven years for the rest of his life bothered him.

D'Aqs was cleaning the strings of mosquito debris when Hellmantle finally hung up the telephone.

"There's a woman who wants to meet up later. Man, is she ever tenacious."

"Is that not a good thing?"

"Perhaps in small hits but she's an _Australian steam engine_."

"This is a great utensil."

"An effective unit for a few bucks. Smells like you've taken on the whole army." He saw that D'Aqs was still sweating from the walk. "Here," he said, wanting the racquet. "Careful not to..." He pressed the metal strings on D'Aqs' exposed hand, the sweat acting as conduit for the current.

" _Ouch!_ " Incredulous at the assault.

"...not to touch the strings or you'll get a shock." Hellmantle had to walk inside to expel the bulk of his laughter.

"Why-"

"Let's go for a beer by the water where it's cool," he said. "But first let me change into some shorts." After changing they walked twenty minutes along a trail to the cafes in the main village _Yung Shue Wan_. The path was dark already because there was a new moon and therefore no light for them to see the mature spider webs that hung low off the drooping branches with black spiders the size of a baseball.

As Hellmantle and D'Aqs sauntered towards _Yung Shue Wan_ , D'Aqs noticed something black contrasting against the path ahead, a spider hanging from a single web dangling in the wind from a low-hanging branch. He could see its round web above his head where it was out of reach, but the spider had ventured down a thread bundled with its legs above it. He froze in his steps and tried to follow the movements of the spider. The problem was the wind was blowing it around and he couldn't find the stabilizing thread in the darkness. The spider shook violently in the wind so he dragged his body low enough not to disturb it. He quickly ran a hand through his hair to make sure it hadn't dropped on his head, and then walked with added spice along the path to the village on the beach. Hellmantle walked as if there was nothing dangling from any of the thousands of drooping branches along the trail.

"Why didn't you warn me about the hand-sized spiders waiting to jump down my neck?" This struck a chord with Hellmantle. D'Aqs could tell from the cadence of his laughter.

"Don't forget the different forms of poisonous snakes, especially the bright green Bamboo snake: the most poisonous snake known to man _pound-for-pound_." So nonchalant.

The televisions in the cafes on Lamma Island were a continual football match with each game getting the attention from its customers as if each match were a final.

"Never make the mistake of commenting about the competency of a team when not sure of where the supporters are from," he said to D'Aqs, as they reached his favorite café called " _The Spicy_ " by the regulars. It was a restaurant that served Indian food and had a little bar at the back. The bar was separated from the main restaurant with a foldable divider, and behind the divider was where the regulars sat on stools around the semi-circle wooden bar. Here was where the expatriates engaged in conversations with folks from around the world. It was where the real UN conferences took place.

"Mosquitoes are big enough to fuck turkeys," a man at the bar said, all business. There were a number of red marks on his neck and hands.

"Hey Norton," said Hellmantle. "This is my cousin, D'Aqs." They shook hands but Norton appeared to be a gruff man of few words. The bar was small and there were a number of regulars there so Hellmantle suggested they take their beer and sit outside on the patio at the shore.

"Your beard is coming in. Should be a fine beard."

"Takes time." He thought of Catharine.

"So have you been doing any reading?"

"Actually lots. I-"

"I have to, through my papers and some books in my library since we returned, and I'm now quite brushed up on things," he said, settling into the chair and waving at the people he knew as they walked past them. Every forty minutes or so a fresh wave of people arrived from Hong Kong Island on the ferry. They were located right at the busiest corner of the walking paths so Hellmantle saw everyone.

"Like what?"

"I've been refreshing on the primary thrust of Jesus' Ministry vis-à-vis bringing the Lost Tribes back into the fold."

"Yes, I remember your ideas of His primary thrust: to gather His lost flock who were the Lost Tribes, and His other _primary thrust_ unite all Twelve of the tribes."

"Nice one. So I asked myself: where did His disciples go? And this question yielded some insights. So I I think I mentioned in that church in Vigan, the Ten Lost Tribes were taken captive to north of the Black Sea in modern-day Ukraine in southern Russia. This area that was by the River Don is also known to historians as Scythia. It was where the Ten Lost Tribes were held captive by the Assyrians. When they were in captivity they were known as the " _White Syrians_ ," so there was the Assyrians and the White Syrians. Since the House of Israel had came from Palestine and what is modern-day southern Syria in old Greek terminology, they were called White Syrians because they contrasted against the dark-complexioned Armenians, or modern-day Syrians."

"Where are you getting this information?"

"I need your Bible. You must have it with you?" He handed Hellmantle his crumpled Bible." Here, In Peter's first letter, he says: 'To these people, the lost sheep of the House of Israel, the strangers among the Assyrians...' And in Matthew, Jesus says after the Jews have rejected him: 'I am not sent but unto the lost sheep of the House of Israel.' The House of Israel – rather than the House of Judah – is further shown to be the target of the twelve disciples after the crucifixion."

"But we are taught that His message is for all peoples of the world, meaning all the gentiles."

"That's how people read the New Testament. But His initial thrust was to get His old brethren back into the teachings of their forefathers. Again in Matthew it says: 'These twelve Jesus sent forth, and commanded them saying: 'Go not into the way of the Gentiles, and into any city of the Samaritans enter ye not, but go rather to the lost sheep of the House of Israel.' And in the Book of James, it says: 'James, a servant of God and of the Lord Jesus Christ, to the twelve tribes which are scattered abroad, greeting.' This is the first verse. It is not addressed to the Gentiles but rather to all the Twelve Tribes of Israel." Hellmantle was a rock, unmoveable from D'Aqs's suggestions and objections, so again D'Aqs leaned back and let him speak.

"So where did the disciples go?"

"In about 256AD some of the tribes from Asia Minor from along the shores of the Black Sea migrated to the Cymbric peninsula – which is Denmark."

"Why then? Why not some other time during the 800 years they spent in Scythia?"

"Because of the Persian invasion in 226AD. The Iranians basically invaded Assyria and pulled rank. And these peoples who migrated to Denmark were, as Peter wrote in his Epistles, the so-called "White Syrians" who came from Scythia. Philip was assigned the areas of Scythia and upper Asia Minor. Scythia was the name of the vast plain north of the Black and Caspian Seas. It was here that a great colony of Israelites migrated after the fall of the Persian Empire in 331, many settling in Northern Europe. It was in the extreme western part of Scythia in a place called Dacia, which was where the Scots migrated from. And Peter knew about these peoples because it's where his brother Andrew went to do his preaching. Andrew taught in the Bosporus, and after he left there he took a ship and sailed across the sea to Sinope, which was north of the Black Sea in Scythia. It was where the ancestors of the Scots and Anglo-Saxons migrated from, which is why modern Scottish tradition holds the belief that Andrew taught the Scots."

"I've heard that Andrew brought the gospel to the Scots but I assumed he went to Scotland."

"To be honest, so did I until I read this." Hellmantle was interrupted by some motorcyclists who asked him about riding with them on the weekend. Without committing, he said he would see them Friday night and let them know.

"An Irishman and a Scot: crazy about their motorbiking. And speaking of the Scots, have you ever wondered by St. Andrew's cross on the Scottish flag is like an 'X'?"

"No, not really."

"Oh, well. So that's where Andrew went to preach: Scythia. And then Philip-"

"Wait. Aren't you going to tell me why St. Andrew's cross is in an X shape?"

"Oh, because he was martyred on a crucifix but it was not the same shape as the one Jesus' _supposedly_ died on. Andrew's was in the shape of an 'X.' That's why the Scottish flag has the white 'X' against the blue background."

"Andrew was crucified in Scythia?"

"I believe so. And his brother Peter was crucified upside down in Rome. Said he wasn't worthy to be killed the same way as Jesus." He stroked his beard. "There's some irony that the first Pope was crucified upside down like that."

"Didn't know that about Peter. Sounds in character though, being a humble fisherman."

"There were another people among the Assyrians known to history as the ' _Parthians_ ,' which in Hebrew means ' _exile._ ' This people were also part of the House of Israel. They remained in captivity until 226AD. They were driven out by the Persians. The disciple Bartholomew preached in Armenia in Asia Minor, or so-called modern Turkey today, and Thaddeus taught also in the area Assyria, Mesopotamia and then Parthia – the ten lost tribes! Matthew also went to Parthia, and then traveled to Ethiopia. So many disciples went to this Parthian kingdom that was in fact a loose union of lost tribes of Israel that dwelt in central Asia, but when the Persians finally drove them out they all went to northwest Europe."

"So where would Parthia be on today's map?"

"Eastern Iran and modern-day Afghanistan."

"What about Thomas? Where did he go?"

"Well, this is what's interesting about all this: Thomas also taught in Parthia during his ministry before he went east of Persia into northwest India. As the Dutch Padre said, Thomas preached where the "White Indians" dwelt, or as they Greeks called them, the _Nephthalite Huns_. So it was the tribe of Naphtali that ended up in northern India, and when they were overthrown in the sixth century they migrated into Scandinavia. So that explains why Jesus would end up in India. Knowing what it's like to have a twin brother, it makes sense to me."

"So you believe Thomas was His twin?"

"I think I told you already that there was a belief, primarily in both Spain and in Ireland, that Jesus had an identical twin brother. This belief was held for centuries, where it was accepted teaching that Jesus was an identical twin. This is _after_ His crucifixion so one can deduce that it was acceptable on the part of Rome up until the time of the Council of Nicaea."

"I was taught that one of the oldest heresies about Jesus was that he had an identical twin brother," said D'Aqs.

"The point is that the idea of having a twin brother was a perfectly acceptable belief for centuries," Hellmantle continued, trying to get this knowledge off his chest and on the table for discussion. "Now one is forced to ask: why is there so little information about Thomas, who also happened to be Jesus' favorite? Did the Catholic Church purposely remove any and all reference to Thomas as Jesus' twin brother because it would have complicated the virgin birth story? How could Jesus have had an identical twin brother? If so, wouldn't there have been two Messiahs from the virgin birth? And why wasn't he the chosen one too if his identical twin was? It becomes tricky. But in the theory about Jesus surviving the cross, they have Jesus going to northern India to be with Thomas, his identical twin brother. Right? Well that's what this boils down to isn't it? Did Jesus die on the cross? If not, did he go hang out with his identical twin brother in the Himalayas?"

"So how does all this affect us and our quest?"

"Because it explains how he was able to go to India, where He, according to the _Blonde Acquitaine_ legend, buried his journals."

Hellmantle finally leaned back, finished and proud of his sermon, and was attacking his pint with relish Norton dropped by with more pints."

"Seems like it's my round again Hellmantle."

" _I'll say!_ " Sweat stains under Norton's armpits. "Just because this guy is named after a great motorcycle maker he thinks he's-."

"Better watch yerself Hellmantle, or I'll have to give you the genital cuff!" A Hellmantle favorite, he bellowed laughter as another wave of passengers arrived on the island. A woman pulled up a chair who spoke with a loud Australian accent, carrying a plastic cup of beer. D'Aqs sat there irked and rankled, not because of what was said but because he didn't have a chance to talk about Catharine's call he had had earlier in the evening.

# Chapter 23

_In which their journey is related to Jack Grosseteste_

and a new task is set before the Man from Normandy

## גּ

Hong Kong was a sprawling metropolis where vertical space dominated the little land available on which to build. Cars sped by with inches to spare on one-way streets that stood as a testament to man's civil engineering ability. In cities like Taipei and Bangkok, traffic was a battle where the fastest scooter won and where traffic law took a backseat, but Hong Kong prevailed in the Far East like a beacon of what to do to overcome traffic woes. Where else could you fly through the very heart of downtown in a big city at 80km/h? That's where D'Aqs found himself on the night of his visit to his father's: on the back on Hellmantle's Yamaha FZR400 motorcycle whipping down the streets of Hong Kong. Despite being in a metropolis with the highest density in the world, Hellmantle still rode by his own rules. And D'Aqs could tell he loved it.

After sleeping over on Lamma Island for the night, the Australian staying over after they had a nightcap on the balcony, D'Aqs was pillion on Hellmantle's racing bike as he cruised to the Victoria Harbour Tunnel where they crossed under the harbour to Kowloon. Hellmantle dodged cars and chose a route that took them through the thick underbelly of _Tsim Sha Tsui_ , where he purposely took the overpass right through the middle of an office building between floors. To D'Aqs' astonishment, they rode through the parking level on the seventh floor. It was a labyrinth of roads that zigzagged through buildings and around sky-high apartments on their way north to Kowloon Tong.

After all the beautiful colonial buildings D'Aqs had seen in Burma, it saddened him that Hong Kong hardly had any colonial buildings left, especially in comparison to Manila and Hanoi. D'Aqs felt the familiar pang of regret and anger when he witnessed the abuse of old architectural gems through disuse and lack of maintenance. In Hong Kong since the handover a familiar equation emerged: colonial buildings were left to fall into disrepair by the Chinese government in Beijing so then it became more cost efficient to tear them down. In Hong Kong many of the old colonial buildings were on prime real estate in Central. Even Singapore had managed to keep the colonial flavor that in his opinion gave the city much more charm than Hong Kong. Privately on the back of Hellmantle's YAMAHA, he feared that there will be a day when all signs of Hong Kong's colonial past will be completely gone. And for the first time he saw people sleeping on the street, homeless and destitute in one of the world's most prosperous cities.

Soon they hit the shopping Mecca of _Mong Kok_ where they turned for a long tunnel under Lion Rock Mountain. The number of cars drastically dwindled after the tunnel when Hellmantle maneuvered his peppy two-stroke racing bike between the mountains to Kowloon Tong and the academic condominiums for professors and lecturers. For the first time D'Aqs felt relieved when they arrived at this father's apartment, knowing he was a sane voice compared to his erratic cousin. It felt good to be able to discuss these unheard-of corners of religious history.

There were some books piled on the dining room table when they both entered. Jack Grosseteste had been doing some reading.

"Son! You look much better. The motorcycling must be doing you good!"

"Yes, I'm feeling better."

Jack Grosseteste was in his usual good spirits, especially after Hellmantle gave him his grape juice offering.

"From the duty-free," he said. "And one is from your son!"

Despite the fact that D'Aqs had told his father about the trip, Hellmantle insisted on doing his own recounting of what had happened. His passionate recollection made even D'Aqs laugh, but also concerned for how could two men do the same trip and have two different variations of the same series of events. Clearly, Hellmantle's grandiose perceptions were beginning to take hold of his person. When he was done, he asked his uncle:

"So what do you think about the _Dutch Padre Vander Poodre's_ sermon about the Ten Lost Tribes of Israel?" It was a second before his uncle realized he had actually said aloud the nickname of the Padre. Uncle Jack appeared in thought for a moment.

" _Poodre?_ "

"Yes. It's the Canadian word for 'power snow,' corrupted from the French _poudre_ ," he said not missing a beat.

"I find it fascinating that he should be giving _that_ particular sermon just as you arrive at that exact moment. When you arrived at 6pm, it was the culmination of your pilgrimage. I find it eerie that you found Agoo Basilica on New Year's Day on your final day of motorcycling."

"Sure, it's destiny manifesting itself! I don't understand why people think 'providence' is something that does not exist in real life. I am troubled as to why so many think it's a fiction. God is showing us the way, to right this wrong done by the Catholic Church so long ago, spearheaded by that _fat fuck_ Constantine _the Great_ at the Council of Nicaea." Jack Grosseteste was quiet for a moment letting Hellmantle simmer before he asked more questions about the trip. The _omma_ put some freshly skinned pineapples on the table. The smell of dinner cooking in the kitchen cause Hellmantle to salivate.

"Why?" D'Aqs asked "Why is that interesting to you? Not 'providence, but the sermon. What's so special about the Twelve Tribes of Israel?"

"Because that great family story, especially that hidden part vis-à-vis the Ten Lost Tribes of Israel, is _everything_. It's a story about us." Hellmantle leaned forward in his chair. "It's why northern Europeans even care about Christianity. It is the primary underpinning of the Bible, the reason why Europe converted to Christianity. Israelites are an extended family, _part of the chosen family_. It's the whole point of keeping a record of this chosen family in story form, yet so _few_ of us see that you and I are descendants of the Twelve Tribes of Israel, or more precisely the Ten Lost Tribes of Israel and the House of Judah." D'Aqs saw that theology spoke deeply to his cousin's heart as well as his own, but for perhaps different reasons.

" _Who_ exactly?"

"Well, that's the question, isn't it?" said Hellmantle, drinking his wine.

"Yes, that's the crucial question," Jack Grosseteste agreed. "This is what I know about it: Abraham had a son named Isaac who bore a son named Jacob. It was Jacob who fathered the twelve sons that came to be known as the Twelve Tribes of Israel. Abraham was willing to kill his only son Isaac by obeying God's command until God stopped him at the last moment and declared Abraham blessed. It was Isaac's son Jacob who was favored in the eyes of God that God re-named him _Israel._ "

"I know that Dad," D'Aqs a bit offended.

"Son, let me say my piece. Jacob's sons were Reuben, Jacob's first born, whose descendants are said to have landed in modern-day France. The symbol on their shields was an image of a man. The next born was Simeon, whose descendants are said to now populate Scotland and Ireland, who are known to history as Celts, and whose symbol is the sword. The third son was Levy who is the priestly tribe of Aaron who remained with the tribe of Judah thus being one of the two tribes that are today's Jews. Levy's symbol is a breastplate. Judah was the fourth son who bore twins: Pharez and Zarrah. It is not Pharez that is the chosen line but according to the Book of Genesis the royal line actually went to the twin with the red string around his finger, Zarrah, because he was the first out. There was a 'breach.' It was when the brave scribe Baruch took the last three offspring of the royal Zarrah line to Northern Ireland as described in detail in the Book of Jeremiah, that the throne of power left Palestine and migrated north, where it remains today. The tribe of Zarrah settled first in Ireland and then Scotland of course, and then with the Stewart line ascending to British throne. And of course its symbol is the red rampant lion. All four of these tribes had the same mother named Leah.

"The fifth son was the tribe of Dan who were primarily mariners and adventurers. They mainly settled _Den_ mark and Ireland (mainly via the Danish Viking settlement of Dublin) and were symbolized by an eagle. The next son was the tribe of Naphtali who settled in modern-day Sweden and their symbol is a stag. The seventh son was the tribe of Gad who is believed to have settled modern-day Switzerland, and is symbolized by a leader of troops. The next son is the tribe of Asher, who is believed to have settled modern-day Belgium and Luxembourg. It has for its emblem a covered goblet. The ninth son is the tribe of Issachar. This tribe landed in upper Germany. A donkey (under burden) is its tribal emblem."

"It is believed that it is where the name 'Saxon' comes from."

"Thank you Rolland. The tenth son was the tribe of Zebulun, who were merchant traders and calligraphers who landed in the Netherlands. Its symbol is a ship. It is the only tribe that still exists today as its own country. Issachar's and Zebulun's mother was also Leah. The next son is the tribe of Ephraim, the son of Joseph, who settled Great Britain and her Commonwealth. Its symbol is an ox. The next son is the tribe of Manasseh, Joseph's first born, who landed primarily in the United States as part of its _Manifest Destiny_ of settling the 'Promised Land.' Its emblem is the olive branch – thus the symbol on US currency. And finally the last tribe is the tribe of Benjamin who are believed to have been mainly mariners and merchant traders, but came to be known in history as Vikings. The tribe of Benjamin is believed to have settled in modern-day Norway and Normandy, and its symbol is the wolf."

It was clear to Hellmantle that Jack Grosseteste should be teaching religious history in some small college in upstate New York, not economics in Hong Kong.

"And we are _wolves_ ," said Hellmantle, clearly enthused by the topic.

"Yes, we are _wolves_ ," his uncle confirmed. D'Aqs was fighting to gain an understanding of a subject that his father and cousin knew so much about despite the fact that it was him who was the missionary and lone minister among them. Jack Grosseteste showed some exasperation at his son's ignorance so D'Aqs showed off some of his knowledge of history.

"The Normans are Danish Vikings that were awarded land after the Siege of Paris in 925. So we're also from the Tribe of Dan?"

"Yes! Mariners and adventurers the Danes were," said Hellmantle.

"That reminds me." Jack Grosseteste got up and took out a color print. "Have you seen your Grosseteste coat-of-arms before? I don't think I've ever shown you." He put the color print on the table. There in front of D'Aqs was the coat-of-arms of the Grosseteste family. There were two eagles in the top two corners of the crest that he now understood to represent the Tribe of Dan. There was also a wolf at the neck of the crest that he can only assume is from the Tribe of Benjamin.

"Dan and Benjamin," D'Aqs said. He watched both his father and Hellmantle nod, and then Jack pointed at the two Stars of David on the chevron across the crest. A tingling went up his spine. An edifice of belief was about to crumble.

"The same Star of David that is on the Northern Ireland flag."

"The mark of an Israelite!" yelled Hellmantle. "History is coming alive isn't it? You're finally catching up after forty years of ignoring your family tree. We grew up with knowing we are part of this living history and that it's been systematically suppressed by Rome yet you never cared a damn about it, and only now, _ye man of little faith_ , are realizing that it's _not_ a fiction. We are from a great bloodline! But there's more to the story than just this, you'll see oh _Doubting Thomas_. There's more to the story than we have been told. My purpose in life is to find them and let people know!"

"Very interesting," he conceded, interrupting his cousin from his self-righteous lecturing.

"And the cross in the middle," said his father. D'Aqs could see it was the symbol of the _Blonde Acquitaine_. Jack Grosseteste looked at his son and winked his left eye. On reflex D'Aqs winked back at his father. For a moment Jack was surprised, but then it dawned on him that it was Hellmantle who had rightfully christened his son into the brotherhood of the _Blonde Acquitaine_. It was with solemn poise that Jack Grosseteste and D'Aqs then shook hands, slipping each other the grip.

"Son, welcome to the brotherhood."

# Chapter 24

_Concerning the journey to northern Vietnam to track down_

the map hidden at an old French prison

## Hanoi, Vietnam, February 2002

## Ω

It was agreed that D'Aqs should accompany Hellmantle on his tour of northern Vietnam, officially as a safeguard so that Hellmantle didn't hurt himself more than anything, but D'Aqs' father saw how the motorcycling had improved his health so he was happy to underwrite his trip to Hanoi. D'Aqs was both keen to hang out with his cousin so he would learn more about his own history and also so he could taste that unbounded freedom again on his motorcycle.

For Hellmantle, who arrived a day earlier than D'Aqs, it wasn't the two-hour wait to get through customs that caught his attention or the ridiculous number of airport employees who stood around in their Heineken-bottle green uniforms smoking, it was the awesome stretch of rice paddies in the countryside that spread out to the horizon with no other discernable roads running perpendicular to the highway. He was immediately aware that something was missing in the outskirts of Hanoi: the utter lack of everything except peasants working in the fields wearing the classic Vietnamese sun-blocking headgear. There was only one main paved road for miles around. To deviate from the road was to walk or motorcycle along a narrow paths elevated between rice fields. With no stores or gas stations or anything else beside the road except for the odd vertically built house or one-story brick shack, there were only fields. Very few cars, the main roads were dominated by motorcycles four-to-one.

Morning mist rose in wafts above rice fields kissing the horizon right to the outskirts Hanoi. An old French Legionnaire citadel symbolized the entry into the old French quarter, a mixture of French colonial architecture and sprawling squatter huts on the sidewalks. The old quarter was overgrown by vegetation, yellow walls of _les Francaise colon_ barely visible, people speaking French, residue of a past era. Cyclists and motorcyclists wearing brown and blue communist garb, some sporting pith helmets and kepis. Some walked with daily wares balanced over their shoulders on a wooden stick.

Three items Hellmantle needed were acquired in the French Quarter: a motorcycle, a UN map and a rock hammer. He planned to meet D'Aqs at the Continental Hotel, the place in the old quarter where the bomb scare caused havoc back in 1954. He spent the extra five bucks to stay in a room with some history: the big room at the front with overhanging balcony and high ceilings. It felt like Graham Greene himself had stayed in this room. It epitomized the _les Francaise colon_ motif of Hanoi, which was basically the epicenter of French colonialism in Indochina. He was to meet D'Aqs in the lounge in the hotel at 8:00pm.

He first tracked down _Café des Artistes_ , the place where the Great Dane had met Leo Vande Winkle almost fifty years ago, but the prices were Hong Kong prices so he found a cozy place called _Kaiser Kaffee_. There were many Germans all speaking loudly to each other from table to table, laughing, so he chose to have lunch here because of an improvable notion Germans won't eat poor quality food so his Hepatitis concern was kept at bay.

After some eggs, Hellmantle spent hours walking all over the city in awe of the colossal colonial effort by the French built during an epoch now known only through the distinct French panache for ornate structures embodying style and pride. As per his custom to explore at all costs, Hellmantle found himself stopping at many cafés to _Halida Export_ to cool down, with an elephant on the label. The beer gave way to urgency to find a motorcycle, which he found through the hotel manager named _Dung Kok_ by his fellow employees.

Despite his unfortunate name, and the nickname that Hellmantle gave him, _Small Kok_ , he proved worthy phoning a friend who came by on a Vietnamese motorbike. Hellmantle was furnished with maps, a full tank of gas and more beer. Without a sleep the previous night, gravity weighed down as he mounted his motorbike for a trip around town. He cruised crowded city streets to test the bike and adapt to riding Vietnam.

The streets embodied lawlessness and speed, and Hellmantle quickly learned the greatest danger, other than a head-on collision, was to put his feet down when stopped at intersections. There sheer number of motorcycles so close together exposed him to a wheel clipping his heel to send his Achilles tendon twanging up his leg to his kneecap. Even an experienced motorcyclist like him it took muster to adapt to the rules riding the streets of Hanoi, especially during the annual _Tet Festival_.

Without a doubt motorcycles were the most effective _transportation utensil_ in Vietnam. At roundabouts they weaved by each other requiring quick skill in rapid succession. Swept by _the Hanoi flow_ when he saw two guys on bright white 150cc scooters wearing black suits, black hats and sunglasses, he followed them to kill a few hours before D'Aqs arrived. Not knowing where he was going, the two black-clad riders took riding seriously so he tagged behind them to get his riding legs. They rode side-by-side in the slow part of the fast lane at exactly the speed of the flow. After five minutes he realized they were the flow. Their constant speed without stopping _defined_ the flow. All others were either going too slow or too fast.

For miles Hellmantle kept the _Vietnamese Blues Brothers_ in his sights, adjusting so he rode with the flow. Balanced with constant speed they didn't swerve or yield because other motorcyclists revolved around them. Riding _the Hanoi Flow_ enabled the adventurer from Normandy to explore the terrain. Surrounded by motorcycles of similar models riders carried momentum around corners and roundabouts with grace by reading movements of others. He followed the scooters until they parked at a store so he stopped. When they sat at a table for tea, Hellmantle mild panic realizing he left his compass in Hong Kong. In touch with the flow he was also lost, though he termed it _momentarily displaced_. Rice paddies behind the stores, he slipped it into neutral and let the flow go by without his bearings. An awful feeling being displaced in a strange city with no common language and no idea where you were, but also a thrill and challenge. Even his map didn't help because he had no reference point. He tried to find a store that sold compasses.

Leaving the two _flow-masters_ to their tea, he searched in vain for a store selling compasses, not an item sold out in the sticks. The sky darkening with no discernable sun for reference, he needed to be careful not to go south when he should go north. Finding the word for _compass_ in his book he stopped a woman walking on the road.

" _Excuse 'moi_ ," he said. " _Lo ban?_ " She shrugged her shoulders. "Hanoi?" She pointed towards a big river he had just passed. Thanking her, he rode through the non-French part of Hanoi, not prepared for the high number of elderly who had been wounded during the Vietnam War. Some with a dead leg or missing limb or had facial scars, he feel hostility from them. Instead he saw a quiet dignity with proud posture, wearing their wounds with noble bearing, feeling compassion and respect for these white-haired soldiers. The French, Americans and even Canadians fought on this soil after World War Two. Hellmantle thought of the irony that Americans had funded the communists during the Japanese occupation during World War Two, the same insurgents who defeated the French and the _Great Dane_ at _Dien Bien Phu_ , and then Americans during their effort to snuff out communism in Vietnam. So much in world history was cloaked with irony.

Walking the sidewalk looking for a compass he approached and old man and smiled: the international language of the good-hearted. Sporting a classic long goatee in the Ho Chi Ming- _Uncle Ho_ tradition, he grabbed his white beard and pointed at Hellmantle's Viking mantel. Both stroking their beards, smiling and nodding at each other, the old man held out his hand and drew "83" on his palm with his finger.

"You are 83?" he said, forgetting for a moment that there was little-to-no English spoken in northern Vietnam. The old man wrote '83' on his hand again and then said something in Vietnamese. Hellmantle then wrote '83' on his hand and pointed at the old man. His face creased up in a smile and reached out to shake Hellmantle's hand.

" _Lo ban?_ " Hellmantle asked him, pointing to a store.

" _Lo ban? Oui_." He gestured to a store that sold compasses. Hellmantle nodded and then found one that was plastic but appeared to work. Outside, he thanked the old man and rode due east on his motorcycle on his way towards _Hoan Kiem Lake_ \- the heart of old Hanoi where he found St Joseph's Cathedral. There was a full service in progress packed to the limit with Christians sitting on the wooden pews. The plain square towers and eroded white paint revealed its 116 years of life. It appeared as if not a thing in the church had been changed except for the fact that it had been stripped of its riches, as per the custom of communist states overtaking lavish churches in the Far East. In front of the overhanging hardwood balcony and paintings depicting the crucifixion, the altar was massive and the stained-glass windows were striking.

Standing on the front steps of the church looking out to Hanoi, Hellmantle could see that this was the old church of _French Indochina_ in the pearl of French colonialism. For Hellmantle it was the Old Quarter – _the Cite Indigene_ – that captured his attention. It was full of classic architectural masterpieces from the French colonial era. Streets were lined with embassies and government buildings and parks and well-planted trees – everything you would expect from a proud and rich French colonial government. It was testament to an awesome display of power. But more, for his purposes, it had the makings of a _motorcyclist paradise_. There were no potholes and the Vietnamese were very savvy on two wheels.

Ω

While back in the lounge in the Continental Hotel waiting for D'Aqs, he thought about his cousin. Hellmantle knew he was resistant to the labyrinth of facts and conflicting theories of the Ten Lost Tribes of Israel, so he will need to field more questions by his missionary cousin. He felt guilty at his outburst accusing D'Aqs of not being savvy when it came to his family history and the _Blonde Acquitaine_ , so he decided that he needed to do penance It wasn't D'Aqs' fault for being ignorant of these subtleties of Christian history since he chose to endorse the dogma of Christianity. It was his duty not to argue with D'Aqs or to attack his character, but rather to enlighten him as to this hidden history.

Then he spotted his cousin D'Aqs enter. His eye caught the odd rhythm of his loping gait. It was the family's _loping gait gene_ manifest in his cousin.

"D'Aqs! How are you _mon ami?_ " D'Aqs looked like a new man. Well-rested and stronger rather than the wisp he had been when they first met at his uncles.

"Good to see you _Mantlepiece!_ " He loved to hear his old nickname from school, the first time D'Aqs had called him that. He was genuinely happy to see his cousin, but something about that scared him. It was always easier to be alone.

"I could tell it was you from your loping gait. It's unmistakable."

"I don't have a _loping gait_."

"There is a certain slow motion and consequential grace that is both accidental and effortless indigenous to the Hellmantle clan. It's so nonchalant that it's as if all Hellmantles walk on our toes, leaning back yet drawn forward by some secret force. You can't tell me that you've never been told that you have a unique walk."

"I _have_ been told that, yes, but never a loping gait. No doubt you walk like that too."

I do, and am very proud. You look different, maybe less like a frail missionary and more like a motorcyclist."

"Is that a good thing?"

"A step in the right direction. One could say there are different forms of being a missionary."

"Could they? Such as?"

"Like what we're doing, except instead of _going out_ and preaching with words, we're _going out_ and getting that which we can then preach to the peoples of the earth."

"Without a doubt, you have a unusual take on things," he said, showing some spark.

"That is the best thing you have _ever_ said to me." Deep penetrating eyes, possessed by something Holy driving him.

"Hey, I try my best."

"The motorcycling looks good here. Make sure you get a decent bike for what we have to do. Chain, clutch, gears, alignment; you know, the usual."

"You've already been out riding?"

"Master _Big Ball_ , you know me well enough to know it is against my nature to wait around and waste time. This is my bike here." D'Aqs followed him outside and watched him start it, a clunky motorcycle that had a Harley Davidson cadence to the engine. Hellmantle had a mini-routine the way he always started his motorcycle. He sat on the bike first, then pulled the clutch and ensured it was in neutral, release the clutch, turn the switch on, balance the bike under him with both hands on the handlebars and then press the button. His life, which was anything but routine, was full of mini-routines.

"What does that say?" The name of the motorcycle was half hidden by his leg.

"This puppy is a _Moc Chau_. Sounds Chinese but it's Russian made."

"How powerful is it?"

"You mean _how many horses?_ It has a hundred and fifty horses, but these babies should do the trick." He turned off the engine. "Here," he said, "I've just bought some UN maps. Let's go in and check 'em out." He spread them on the table as D'Aqs looked at the drink menu, but Hellmantle ignored the map.

"I wanted to ask you, how did you know about Barnes being shot down?"

"I get the Alumni News every few months. It's full of updates on people's lives and obituaries. The school has changed a lot since we were there."

"It's co-ed now, isn't it?"

"Girls are now half the student populace."

"What house?"

"Ketchum House."

"That makes sense."

"You could subscribe if you want. It's free but they do ask for donations."

"But I left without graduating."

"I know, but I don't think it matters." He thought about it.

"I think of those years a lot. We all knew those years would end but we never talked about the end. And you know what the most important thing was to survive the dorms?" D'Aqs took the question seriously.

"What mattered most was that you never narked on someone."

"Maybe. That was the golden rule. But when I think about those days I keep thinking of what happened to Lunny."

"You mean at the end of the year?"

"Yeah, when he spazzed." Lunny had been the leader of the dorm but when Hellmantle and Rheine gained power through their daring pranks and mischief, a power struggle ensued, only reaching a breaking point when Chris Lunny reached his tipping point and lost his cool.

"He certainly did spazz. Wow, I haven't thought of him for a long time."

"That, to me, was the most important thing: not to spazz. Because we all hazed each other to reach that point. It was if it was a test of character. You could stand up and fight but you could lose your temper. That was the code."

"You and Rheine never spazzed, but it was your confidence in never getting caught that earned respect. Do you remember when Rheine crawled in the dumbwaiter and went down a few floors to the kitchen and then came back up? You were going to go next but Marc Hogan insisted so he went and was caught. Tottenham really made an example of Hogan for that. You know he ended up failing that year?"

"Rheine was a natural. It was him who had the gift, not me. Funny, the last thing he said to me on the ski slope was that I was the one who had the gift, that I was the one selected to bring destiny to its rightful place. Even when he was dying he had the guts to say that." D'Aqs, careful and softly.

"You looked up to him?"

"I always did. He had this capacity to do things that boggled my mind."

"He was a great hockey player."

"That's what people said. He was an exceptional athlete but that was only a smidgen of his greatness. Sometimes I really get sad thinking of the thousands of miles I've ridden alone knowing he would've been right beside me laughing and trying to push me off the road. It tears me apart." He pulled out a cigarette. "His face was so pale when he was lying there. And his eyes were so scared. I wanted to hug him. I wanted to take away all that fear. I wonder how he felt when he died the next day. Damn it! I wish I was there! I had some stupid test that day I couldn't miss. Fricken Grandfield! _Damn it!_ I should have been there with him. Just there, you know? I've never forgiven myself for that. He needed me there." He drank.

"Have you ever thought that the death of a twin is harder on the surviving twin? It must have difficult for him to know he was dying and that it would have such a profound effect on you."

"You know something, no one has ever said that to me before but you're right. I used to have these thoughts of dying when I was young and every time I ended up thinking how hard it would be on Rheine. I wish I was there to tell him that."

"He probably knew."

"I _hate_ the thought I have of him lying there alone in the hospital thinking I didn't care. That's what burns my ass."

" _Mantlepiece_ ," he said, enunciating clearly. "Get that thought out of your mind! _The Wineman_ was your twin brother so of course he knew you cared the most of anyone in the world. You're just...just hurting yourself." Hellmantle looked out the window for a while.

"Yeah, you're right. I should." He kept staring out the window and thought about all the great times that could have had in life if he hadn't dared him to take the jump.

# Chapter 25

_About how Hellmantle and D'Aqs compare notes_

on their task at hand in Hanoi

## בּ

They left the Continental in silence for a cluster of cafés near the Hoan Kiem Lake. On the flight to Hanoi D'Aqs had been bothered by what had been revealed at his father's apartment in Kowloon Tong. When he attended church in Hong Kong he felt different when he heard the sermon, and even how he spoke to the abbot at his mission he found himself ponder the words Hellmantle and his father had said. It was easy for him to dismiss it all as the product of an unbalanced mind, but to hear his father concur so matter-of-factly scared D'Aqs into doing some of his own research. His resistance to this _revisionism_ caused him to spend time reading everything he could about this theory that the northern European peoples were in fact part of the Israelite nation. He did concede that it explained Britain's prolonged and tenacious efforts in Palestine during World War One, vis-à-vis Lawrence of Arabia, General Allenby and the Sykes-Picot Accord, and its behavior during World War Two doing everything in their power to save their brethren of the House of Judah so they could establish a Jewish homeland by implementing the Balfour Treaty. What he couldn't understand was why the Catholic Church for centuries had been so anti-Jewish. If the Jews were brothers of the northern European Israelites through Jacob, then why had there been constant persecution? And he wondered why this wasn't better known and promoted to the public to encourage tolerance of all peoples?

From the menu D'Aqs read a description of one of the German beers the pub offered: " _Nothing like a strong, young one. This generation's ale. Spiked. Bitter. Exciting. Simply the hippest hops on tap_." He placed the yellowed menu on the white tablecloth and shook his head.

It sounds like you," said D'Aqs.

"Hey, who are you calling bitter?"

"I thought I was calling you _hip_." D'Aqs ordered a Hoegaarten, the same beer as Hellmantle.

"Listen, I found something out about the _Great Dane_ and the French Foreign Legion that I think takes precedence."

"You've been doing your homework, have you?"

"Indeed."

"So have I."

"Good. Another week off work from the magazine, man! I need to make the most of it so why not brush up on those items affected, _n'est-ce pas?_ " D'Aqs could see he was wound up from his day in Hanoi. "How much do you know about the battle?"

"To be honest, not much." This was what D'Aqs wanted to hear because of his lack of information about the French-Vietnamese wars in Indochina so he let Hellmantle unload his gunnysack. He pulled out his journal full of notes, placing his finger at a paragraph.

"As far as I can see it, the French colon was in full force over here in its prime, so when all was lost at the battle of _Dien Bien Phu_ in 1954, it made the French even more determined to keep oil-rich Algeria in Africa during the civil war right up to when de Gaulle held the second referendum in 1963, and handed Algeria its independence. But that wasn't until the Legionnaires fractured and attempted a coup to keep their North African property, which failed and took France to the brink of civil war. That makes what happened over here ten years before all the more important.

"The French refused to cede Indochina and the Foreign Legion was behind that. As history would turn out, the day after the surrender of the French forces at _Dien Bien Phu_ in September 1954, the Geneva Convention was established and in effect was the end of French colonial rule in what are modern-day Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia. There were twelve French battalions stationed at the Legion's stronghold in _Dien Bien Phu_ that was defending the centuries-old caravan trade route from Burma to China through northern Vietnam. After a 57-day siege of the French garrison at _Dien Bien Phu_ , the _Viet Mingh_ took over. And our man, the _Great Dane Hellmantle_ , was involved in that."

"Did you ever find out how the Dane found the map?"

"That's what I wanted to tell you. From what I've heard through our society, the _Great Dane_ found the map in a book that a fellow Legionnaire purchased from an old bookstore in Canton, in Guangzhou Province, China."

"China?"

"The story goes that the Legionnaire folded the map back into the book and paid for the book without declaring the map to the bookseller. It was due to the expertise of the _Great Dane_ in cartography that caused this Legionnaire to bring the map to Dane to see if he knew what the map was about. He learned that the book and map had been brought to Canton by an Englishman from British India."

" _India!_ "

"The coincidence that the map had to do with Jesus and the fact that he was part of the _Desposyni_ made him think the map was _destined to be his_. Realizing the importance of his find, he told a white lie and convinced his fellow Legionnaire that the map was worthless and thus he secured it for himself. As we now know for sure, in order to ensure its safety, the _Great Dane_ didn't tell anyone about it except for the Dutch priest _van der Goodies_. See the _Great Dane_ knew from the brotherhood of the _Blonde Acquitaine_ there had been a long-held prophecy suggesting a map existed that pointed to writings of significant religious importance. It was believed the map and writings would be found during the end of the second millennium. He was able to contact a monk at the Saint Sulpice Monastery in France about the map and learned that these journals of religious significance are said to be the secret wisdom of Jesus that will be revealed 'at the _End of Days._ ' The prophecy says these buried journals would ' _come clean from the mountaintops'_ on Jesus' birthday, roughly 2000 years after his birth."

"Jesus would be 2009 years old on March 1st, according to your dates."

"Yeah, that's what I calculated. And also Jesus was not His real name. It was _Joshua_."

"Yes, in the old Hebrew. I was aware of that."

"Nice one. "Hellmantle lit a smoke. "It is said that one of the things the original nine leaders of the First Crusade learned in Jerusalem was that there existed original journals of Joshua that had never been found. These scrolls have been subject of speculation for religious scholars and researchers for centuries but because there was never any tangible evidence, it was never fully accepted as historically valid, and certainly suppressed by Rome."

"But from what I've recently been reading about the Crusades and chivalry and the code that these men followed," said D'Aqs, showing a new keenness, "as far as I know about the Ten Commandments of Chivalry, the first two are:

Thou shalt believe all that the Church teaches,

and shalt observe all its directions.

Thou shalt defend the Church.

So isn't this going against the code?"

"You _have_ been doing some reading," replied Hellmantle, smiling. "But don't forget the commandment:

Thou shalt be everywhere and always champion of the Right

and the Good against Injustice and Evil."

"So?"

"So could it not be argued that there has been a mistake – or a _fudging_ – of the real message from Joshua and in the recording of The New Testament by the founders of the church, namely at the Council of Nicaea. I would argue that this is one of many points of fiction of the Catholic religion that was done hundreds of years after the fact. I'm sure the Nine Worthies of the First Crusade were aware of this and thus not breaking the first two commandments of the knight's code."

"Fair enough."

"And of course it was reason for the Protestant Reformation and the subsequent Thirty Year's War that followed, where roughly one-third of the European population was killed. Is this not enough to continue on our quest for the truth? Should our insights into this possibility of another suppressed truth not be explored? Wouldn't everyone be better off knowing the real story?"

" _That_ , my friend, is the big question. I'll mull it over as we ride, how's that?"

"Mulling is good! So let's head to _Dien Bien Phu_ and look for a colonial prison. And as you know, let's remember from the _Code of Chivalry_ :

Live one's life so that it is worthy of respect and honor.

By making the noble effort to determine if the map is fiction or not is in itself an act of honor. We are on the path towards fulfilling our destiny! Let nothing deter us in our task!" D'Aqs sat back in his chair and regarded his cousin.

"If being self-possessed," he said in reply "is being in control of yourself and doing small precise pieces towards a bigger whole, then you are indeed just that."

"No argument from me cousin. I have decided to do something and now I am going to carry it through. My religion is truth."

The nighttime brought darkness so they bypassed their discussion about the House of Israel in order to get a good jump on the journey that began early the next day.

# Chapter 26

_In which an account is given of the beginning_

of the journey of Hellmantle in Vietnam

## אּ

In the morning the cousins from Normandy were awakened by the sound of solid metal banging on hollowed tin by one of the many old women who walked down the streets with a wooden cart. Hellmantle went to his balcony and watched her shovel raw waste into the open cart. Heaps of black muck, sullied vegetables, ash and every other possible refuse had been deposited along the edge of the road. Banging on the hollowed tin brought people out on the streets for their daily garbage purge. He was watching the frantic catharsis of people sweeping and shoveling the debris from the roadside puddles when D'Aqs appeared on the balcony.

"What's the racket?"

"Garbage pickup. But alas! Let's get your motorbike and gazelle young knight," said Hellmantle, getting right to the point. They packed up and Hellmantle doubled D'Aqs on his bike to the rental shop where D'Aqs rented the same model as Hellmantle. They now both had a Harley Davidson type of bike called a _Moc Chau_ with a 150cc engine. Hellmantle insisted on getting this bike because he foresaw the need for something with power to ride through the mountains.

"My motorcycle wisdom tells me it is a smart move."

Outside roaming tribes of _Moc Chau_ motorcycles cruised the road in a hum around them. Leaves fluttered from the thick boughs that lined the streets and punctuated the gaps between colonial architecture. With a full tank of gas and compass in hand, Hellmantle was confident that they would find their turn that led due west and upwards to the mountains. However it was almost noon by the time they found their way out of the spaghetti streets of Hanoi and hit Highway 6.

The road led to a new frontier of endless miles of rice paddies, squared beside each other like dominoes. The rice fields spread out towards distant clusters of trees dotted on the horizon as the two motorcyclists from the Hellmantle clan slipped it into top gear and opened up the throttle. They cruised towards _Son-tay_ , past meandering cyclists and mountain women who waved at them as they passed. Many of the men had long white beards like their hero _Ho Chi Ming_. They rode through towns moving farther west with their helmets dangling from their knapsacks. Hellmantle's long hair and beard was blown back by the wind. It stirred something within, so he yelled:

"Most people work to live and then wait to die, but we live to play on two wheels!"

For hours the cousins traveled west until they hit the first of the mountains just before _Hoa Bin_. Palm trees covered the mountains as they ascended the range along a well-paved highway. At the bottom of the _Da River Gorge_ going to _Mai Chau_ , they took the corner slowly as they gawked in wonder at the deepness of the gorge at one corner. It was staggering with its rugged stone cut so dramatically at the mercy of a blue-water current.

A day in the country with no stops and an endless road that kept going way after sunset, darkness fell slowly for over an hour until Hellmantle found a little colony of huts on stilts built on top of rice paddies. The turn off from the main road took them along a raised dirt path right into the rice fields to an oasis of wooden huts. They both parked, checked-in and went to their hut that had bamboo branches for a roof.

When Hellmantle saw the tourists sitting in a group watching an aboriginal hill tribe dance sung in a choreographed ritual, he realized this was the 'overnighter' from Hanoi for the old fogies and armchair tourists. D'Aqs noticed that he didn't resent them like he had in Sagada; he merely regarded them with curious interest.

Later, from under the mosquito netting on his bed and assuming a habit learned from Hellmantle, D'Aqs studied the maps. Upon locating where they were he felt a tingling kick known to all adventurers. He tried to pinpoint a possible location of a French prison along their route to _Dien Bien Phu_. Hellmantle was reading a book on Vietnam. There was only the sound of crickets through the windows. Neither of them wanted to see the tourists with freshly pressed pants, so they stayed in the room and drank beer while Hellmantle sampled Vietnamese betel nut.

"So what do you know about this _big swinging stick_ , _Ho Chi Ming?_ " he asked his missionary cousin.

"Communist leader and founder of modern Vietnam," he replied with textbook accuracy.

"From the information I'm reading here," said Hellmantle, "Ho Chi Ming had an interesting life. Want to hear about it?" D'Aqs nodded but kept his eyes pinned on the maps. "Born in 1890 and named 'Bringer of Light,' he worked as a teacher until the age of 21 when he signed on as a cook's apprentice in 1911 on a French ship, which took him to North America, Africa and Europe. After working at a number of different jobs in cities like Paris and London, he was one of the founding members of the French Communist Party in 1920. The year before it is said that he handed Woodrow Wilson an independence plan for Vietnam to get out from under the French thumb. He was then recruited by the Russians who sent _Uncle Ho_ to Canton in China as part of the _Communist International_. Uncle Ho then founded the Revolutionary Youth League in China, which ended up being a precursor to the _Indochina_ Communist Party and the Vietnamese Communist Party."

"Hmm, who would have guessed? Always labeled a bad egg."

"In the 1930s Uncle Ho was imprisoned by the British in Hong Kong for his revolutionary activities and from pressure by the French. After eventually being released, he went to Moscow and Beijing and then returned to Vietnam in 1941, the first time in 30 years. He was again arrested in 1942, this time by the Nationalist Chinese. When the Japanese invaded Vietnam, he organized the August Revolution in 1945, which took over most of Vietnam. When the French returned after the Japanese fled, Uncle Ho took off into the bush where he then spent eight years conducting guerilla warfare against the Legionnaires and French colonialists. After the defeat of the French in 1954, he led North Vietnam until his death in 1969 and never saw the victory over the south. After some more turbulence with the Americans, the Socialist Republic of Vietnam (SRV) was founded in 1979, which is how things stand today."

"Amazing. And today he is still revered as the founding father of agrarian Vietnam," said D'Aqs, eating peanuts. "Strange as it may sound, from the riding today I was impressed with how well manicured the fields were, especially compared to what we saw in the Philippines."

"Funny, I thought the same thing. Just from what I saw today, not one inch of land iwa wasted. The fields are cared for. It's no wonder that Vietnam supplies China and the world with rice."

"It makes you wonder if communism, which after all is an agrarian political system of governance, fits this type of geography and culture." He shivered and climbed under the covers. It was cold on the rice patties at night.

"Seems to _buck_ against what we were taught growing up, doesn't it?"

"Makes it seem like simple Western propaganda."

"Speaking of which, listen to this Orwellian national slogan for Vietnam: ' _Doc Lap – Tu Do – Hanh Phuc_ ,' which means: ' _Independence – Freedom – Happiness_.'"

"Aren't they the largest producer of rice in the world?"

"Yep." They both mulled these facts over. Again D'Aqs was struck with an uneasy feeling. It was more truth discovered that unmasked the lies fed to them from the powers that be. Guile. He hated that.

Hellmantle stayed absorbed in his little book.

"Did you know that over 3000 Legionnaires and French army were buried under rice paddies?"

"No, I did not."

"It says here that in 1994 the Vietnamese government allowed the French veterans of _Dien Bien Phu_ to restage their paratroop drop exactly forty years after the battle."

"I heard about that. It wasn't that long ago."

"I think we had some family partake in that fifty-year thing."

"So, I know we spoke of this yesterday, and excuse my ignorance, but what exactly happened at _Dien Bien Phu_ anyway?" D'Aqs was showing more interest the more he felt short-changed from what they were learning from going out into the world and seeing for themselves.

Hellmantle summarized from his little book.

"After failing with an initial assault, the _Viet Mingh_ , backed by 33 infantry battalions, six artillery regiments and a regiment of engineers, camouflaged themselves and dug in on the hills overlooking the French position. They prevented vital supplies and reinforcements from reaching the Legionnaires despite six battalions parachuting into _Dien Bien Phu_."

"They basically starved them."

"Yep. Grampa Hellmantle and that chap Louis de Steward were two of the parachutists who landed on April 14, 1954. In their trenches and tunnels, the _Viet Mingh_ were able to seize the _Legion Citadel_ and kill or imprison over 13,000 Legionnaires and French regular army. Casualties of _Viet Mingh_ are recorded at 25,000 it says here."

Hellmantle turned off the light and he spoke from across the room.

"I have a theory. Well, it's not really my theory but it's speculation from what I heard when I was growing up."

"Oh no," replied D'Aqs, eyes now closed.

"France is Catholic. Yes?"

" _Oui_."

"The theory is that the French troops were in possession of important information relating to a treasure of a religious nature. And that this was a primary reason for the paratroopers' descent into almost certain death. Of course it was hushed up because nothing was found."

"The Legionnaires landed in _Dien Bien Phu_ because of the map?" D'Aqs shook his head. "That's a bit much."

"No, no, wait for it. I had heard my father once say that all serious Grail scholars have heard the rumor that suggested that a map existed of a lost treasure that was said to belong to Jesus himself. He thought that the Legionnaires were played unwittingly as a pawn in the quest to secure the map. It was only after the _Great Dane's_ death that stories like this leaked out. That's how we came to know the rumor that the _Great Dane_ had succeeded in finding the map to the treasure but that it had been lost or buried during the battle. It was said that all those who knew of its whereabouts had been killed, and thus the secret of the map's location had been lost forever. But the _Blonde Acquitaine_ remained interested in its rediscovery.

"Remember, one of the commandments of chivalry is:

Thou shalt perform scrupulously thy feudal duties,

if they be not contrary to the laws of God.

We must complete our mission and bring about a change in this misrepresentation perpetrated by the Catholic Church, and bring justice to our ancestor Joshua the Nazarene. This cone of silence has to be corrected, and this responsibility falls on our shoulders because we are the offspring of the Messiah and thus _must make right what is wrong_. Our chivalry is not to an earthly woman of love, but rather to God who lives in the empyrean above us watching us even now. We don't have a choice D'Aqs. It is my destiny. Faith and hope guide me to the end of our course. Only those with the depth of belief can attain this impossible task before us, and those faint of will can never even approach the obstacles that lie in our path to bring the true message to all peoples of the earth! The research and new evidence that has come to light over the last twenty years is proof enough that now is the time in world history when this change must occur!"

Spittle was all over Hellmantle's beard when he finished his little speech. A fear reappeared in D'Aqs gut when he thought of how easily a man like Hellmantle could get himself killed with such an unaccepted position and close-minded self-righteousness.

# Chapter 27

_About how Hellmantle and his brave squire ride north_

to the place where the four rivers meet

## Near Mai Chau, Hoa Binh Province

## אָ

It was to the distant melody of bagpipes that Hellmantle woke up. Still in bed under the mosquito net, when he caught a whiff of Scotland he sprang out of bed, slipped on his boots and climbed down from the wooden hut. He walked out to the rice paddies along the trail of dried mud and soaked in the fog covering the mountaintops on the immediate horizon, looking for the bagpiper. The smell in the air was rich with moisture and the jungles of Southeast Asia, sending a chill of energy down his spine at the thought of the riding before them.

"Must have been a dream," he mumbled to himself in justification for standing in the middle of a rice paddy at the crack of dawn.

After having a Coke and some salted crackers for breakfast in their wooden legged hut in the stilted colony amidst rice paddies, Hellmantle and D'Aqs hopped on their Russian-made motorcycles and rode past the pasty tourists who were on their way on foot to the _Da River Gorge_ before they had to run back to their bus. As Hellmantle rode past the group of tourists, he said to the wind:

"Not for us! We are the captains of our own one-man, two-wheeled ship!" It caused him to think more about this phenomenon of soft-bellied tourists who walked in a country and then returned to their hometowns bragging that they had been to so-and-so country and how amazing it had been. To him, most people spent their free time doing nothing, that is, watching an electronic box and thinking of their bank account growing. They say to themselves: "If I can just hold on a bit longer!" Slouched on a couch watching a sitcom is a slumbering "activity" to these soft peoples. Activities like taking buses to pre-arranged tourist attractions promotes soft tummies commonly found in slumbering peoples everywhere. These people seldom throw caution to the wind because their will is dormant. If these softies do have a will, then it should be called the _Will to Slumber_.

Mile and after mile Hellmantle and D'Aqs ascended into the mountain range of Vietnam, deeper and deeper into the thicker jungle around them. Fewer rice paddies the steeper the roads became. To Hellmantle, North Vietnam was different than other Southeast Asian countries he had been to. People up here in the north were strong and resilient; he could see it in their faces. The sheer work ethic was light years away from that of the Philippines for example, or Thailand. The endless rice fields that they passed were beyond count, and the number of people working on the fields was even more impressive. And the flags! Hellmantle had never been to a country with more flags. Almost every household had been given a free flag and flagpole in the towns they had ridden through so far. No man had ever seen more red flags in one place before. Entire streets in Hanoi and the country towns were decked out in Communist flags.

It didn't take Hellmantle long to see that motorcycles were ideal instruments for the long, never-ending roads of North Vietnam. The lowlands had no discernable traffic law enforcement, but it didn't matter so much because the Vietnamese were expert motorcyclists. Passing on the left with the slower bikes to the right was adhered to as the golden rule on the road. There was also a noticeable fellow-motorcyclist theme whenever a car pushed through. That was the thing about North Vietnam: there were hardly any cars in the countryside because they weren't practical. And because trucks and cars hadn't chewed the roads up, the pavement was smooth for the two-wheeled flow.

For Hellmantle, eight out of ten of the 80 million Vietnamese looked identical. There was hardly any genetic variation. As he cruised he considered the history of the country: for the last 2000 years, the Vietnamese, from their base in the north, had expanded their control to the Mekong Delta and Saigon. Apart from their skirmishes with Cambodians, Americans and Japanese, there were the Chinese. After Saigon fell to communism in 1975, the Vietnamese communists launched a campaign in 1978 against the 'bourgeois elements,' which ended up being a euphemism for entrepreneurial Chinese. Over a third of the Chinese population fled Vietnam back to China causing China to attack the country in 1979. He wondered how many westerners knew that, as he steered his bike around beautifully engineered corners.

Riding into the afternoon sun, they reached Son La where they filled up with gas.

"Ah, _Dien Bien Phu_ : How many kilometers to _Dien Bien Phu?_ " Hellmantle asked the guy selling fuel.

"Uh? _Dien Bien Phu_ hah?" he replied.

"Yah, yah. _Dien Bien Phu_. How many _kilometers_ to _Dien Bien Phu_?" The question finally registered as his free hand reached for his chin. The gas attendant shook his head and said:

"One thousand fifty kilo-me-ters. _Dien Bien Phu_ hah."

"One hundred and fifty kilo-me-ters? Yes?" Hellmantle confirmed. He then pointed to his wristwatch. "How many hours, _hours_ to _Dien Bien Phu?_ " Again the hand to the chin came into play.

"Eight" answered the gasman.

"Eight hours and _Dien Bien Phu_ will be within our grasp," he said to D'Aqs. "That sounds about right."

"Let's press on to the battle site due west."

"And keep your eyes open for anything that looks like a prison."

Hellmantle and D'Aqs cruised between _Son La_ and _Tuam Giao_ , through the pass in the afternoon fog. The road was just as smooth as the previous track from the colony on stilts in _Mai Chau._

Since there was so much agrarian activity, there were spats of mud on the road that created some small slides and skids. They had to muster to overcome these hazards. Hammering mile after mile, it became a real life videogame where the motorcycle and the wind and the temperatures and the gears were real, and any wrong move did not yield a second chance. Hellmantle knew from experience that it was easy to think that the riding wasn't real. It was easy to think it was a videogame. If a motorcyclist did he would believe that if he crashed he could get up again and replay. But these skids were real and they shook Hellmantle's tank of adrenalin. To him the groovy thing was that the civil engineers had created turns that were so well designed that he didn't even have to turn the handlebars; he only had to lean. As a displaced Norman, he was pretty sure the engineers had been French trained.

With hardly any vehicles on the road, he led the way climbing in third gear and gliding down the descent on the other side like madmen hell-bent to get to the bottom of a mystery.

Ω

The sun began to set in front of them behind huge rocks protruding from a mountain lake. Hellmantle was too much into the flow of the ride to think about stopping. He could feel the windburn on his cheeks passing the mountains through the valley with fog and steep slopes. With warm and dry feet and the evening cool against his skin, he descended into the _Tuan Giao_ – _Dien Bien Phu_ valley hoping to reach _Dien Bien Phu_. The roads were as smooth as silk but with the fog, visibility was an issue.

Seemingly in the middle of nowhere, when they were still miles from _Dien Bien Phu_ , Hellmantle and D'Aqs came across an old hotel with the classic yellow colonial façade and turret of _les Francaise Colon_ , but the odd thing was that it was literally the only colonial building in the village. At an intersection of some rivers, there was a large fort on the hill overlooking the hotel. Hellmantle could only infer that the reason for the hotel would had been for French troops moving north to the border of Laos and China.

They parked their motorcycles at the hotel and got a room. The hotel was empty and run by a family who lived on the main floor. During dinner Hellmantle asked about the fort.

"It is a French prison that the Japanese used and then went back to the French," replied the wife serving them dinner. Hellmantle and D'Aqs exchanged looks.

"Used during the Battle of _Dien Bien Phu?_ " Hellmantle asked.

"They used it for French troops going there," the husband answered. "They supplied them using this as their route." The bread they ate was warm.

"And it is used today?" D'Aqs, interest perked.

"No one is there." The man's eyes were honest and his heart was good. Humanity was indeed planet-wide, Hellmantle thought to himself.

"And the rivers? How many rivers meet here?" The man laughed and shook his head at D'Aqs.

"How many rivers meet? I don't know. There are two or three I think. And there are some waterfalls that run down from the tops into this river."

"My God! Could it be!" exclaimed Hellmantle, startling the husband and wife. They moved away from them now suspicious, cleaning up the dinner table swiftly.

Upstairs it was D'Aqs and not Hellmantle that couldn't wait for sunrise to explore the prison. They both had their maps open each pinpointing where they were and seeing where there were two rivers converging. They both suspected there were more than just the two shown on the map.

D'Aqs was surprised that Hellmantle seemed more interested in smoking and drinking and chewing his betel nut than discussing tomorrow's plan.

"You shouldn't smoke in here. And why are you drinking so much? Doesn't seem very...very _Blonde Acquitaine_. Remember, one of the codes of chivalry is _exhibit self-control_." D'Aqs might have struck too close to the bone so he waited for a reply.

"Do you know what the Ten Knightly Virtues are?" he asked in a firm tone.

"No, not all of them. Do you?"

"Certainly. As members of the secret brotherhood we must commit these ten knightly virtues to heart, just we have for the Code of Chivalry."

"So enlighten me."

"They are:

**Chastity** – _be free of sins of the flesh_

**Humility** – _to keep pride at bay_

**Rectitude** – _to remain objective and just_

**Charity** – _to keep your heart full of the Holy Spirit_

**Chivalry** – _to give respect to your fellow man_

**Courage** – _to give power to your convictions_

**Fidelity** – _to be loyal to your purpose_

**Truthful** – _never deviate from a life of truth_

**Faith** – _to always keep you within God's realm_

**Compassion** – _to know the soft side of mercy_."

"I see."

"Now where in there does it say I can't chew betel nut and drink beer now and again?"

"The one about sins of the flesh."

"Chastity? I'd say it refers to sexual sins in the traditional definition."

"Well, I guess if you remain objective and just then I can't find anything that says you can't have your smoke. If you choose to imbibe, then _look sharp man!_ " D'Aqs showing backbone caused Hellmantle to sit up in his cot, but after a few seconds slouched again.

"If we find something tomorrow, it will be just like the original nine members of the Templars finding the buried sacred geometry under Solomon's stables in 1106."

"Why's that? Because this map could lead to the discovery of religious scrolls that could send shockwaves through religious communities throughout the world?"

"Yes," replied Hellmantle. "I did some research after hearing all that stuff last time at your father's place and I discovered that during the fourth-century there was a man who taught Nazarene thought in Spain by the name of Priscillian of Avila who, among other beliefs, taught that Jesus had an identical twin brother named Jude Thomas. It was believed for centuries that Jesus had an identical twin, but of course it contradicts the church in Rome because then there would have to be two Messiahs, _both_ a product of a virgin birth. This belief was centered in Western Europe in modern-day Acquitaine, Gallicia and Brittany, all of which are on the sea routes between Egypt, Spain and Great Britain."

"Now that _is_ interesting. There has already been a precedent."

"Because these places had a constant influx of new ideas that circumvented the power of Rome, these _Nazarene_ beliefs remained for centuries. It ultimately culminated with the Spanish Inquisition nearly a thousand years later. Anyone who deviated from Rome's tenets were persecuted and whatnot."

"Rome has so much blood on its hands."

"Of course the _Prior de Sion_ brotherhood has been busy pointing out that Jesus had an identical twin brother since before the Renaissance. Most recently the President of the Prior de Sion Berenger Sauniere commissioned decorations in the Rennes-le-Chateau church showing Mary and Joseph holding identical baby Christ-Childs in their hands."

D'Aqs thought about this untaught point of Christian history, again revisiting that discomforting twinge that he had been fooled. "A twin is a problem for the church because why would one twin go up to heaven and the other identical not? It's too difficult to justify." In the silence D'Aqs went on. "Therefore take Thomas out of the picture and focus on the resurrection. Jesus and Thomas as twins and as old men together in Kashmir Valley shows that they are both men and _not_ the sons of God but rather like the rest of us, men of the earth with a Holy Spirit." When he stopped talking he could hear snores coming from Hellmantle across the room intermixed with the myriad of sounds coming from the jungles outside. In due course D'Aqs' eyelids became like led and fell downwards to shut off his sight and put him to sleep.

# Chapter 28

_Concerning the French prison and what Hellmantle finds there_

## 100km east of Dien Bien Phu, Son La Province

## אַ

In the morning, instead of eating breakfast, Hellmantle chewed betel nut one after another while D'Aqs sat with the family and had eggs and bread.

"Umm, are you nervous or something? Why are you chewing betel nuts for breakfast?" asked his squire, who was still favoring his ribs on the left side from his wipeout in the Philippines. "Hungover?"

"No. But having betels for breaky isn't breaking any laws in this country." He tossed another into his mouth and bit into it. He moved it to his cheek and began the process of crunching it into splinters of liquorice tasting narcotic.

"Your teeth are now stained red."

"Good, just like one of the boys."

"What does it taste like compared to the ones we had in the Philippines?"

" _Bitter_ ," he said, crinkling his face when he found a spot between his cheek and gums. "Bitter and chewy tar it is." D'Aqs shook his head when he spat the red juice into an empty beer bottle.

"Is this normal behavior for you? Or I suppose not since there's a wake of destruction and mischief in your past."

"I consider that a compliment, though perhaps destruction isn't the correct word. I'd say something like a wake of mischief and laughter with no one getting hurt...most of the time."

"Someone always got hurt when you were involved. I used to watch and wait until whoever you were sparring with would either limp away with a severe bruise or sprang, or getting the cane from Tottenham." It was a fact that had slipped his mind; and not once did someone commit the worst sin.

"Remember that time about six of us went out to play Space Invaders downtown that night, must've have been late November."

"I how could I _not?_ Grandfield..." D'Aqs didn't want to retell the shame of being caned for the first time, being a sportsman and A-student.

"I don't know if I ever told this to anyone before because I'm sure I didn't while I was still at Lakefield."

"How did you not get caught by the way? I remember, because it was one of those life-changing moments for me."

"Oh yeah?"

"Sure. Tottenham hitting me with the cane telling me I was better than this and he kept calling me Big Ball, which he called my Dad when he was there."

"I was never caned."

" _Come on!_ Never? I don't believe it."

"Once I went in expecting one. I had over twenty-four quarters and it was only Wednesday."

"I think I remember that because you missed the cricket match." He recalled the image of the proud Hellmantle posture for the first ten kilometers, but when the afternoon sun began to set over the Maple trees along the edge of the fields, his body was like mashed potatoes. Hellmantle was finally called in for dinner after twenty-one kilometers of running.

"I only had three more quarters owing for the following Saturday so I did them in the morning and that was the afternoon I had my one-and-only-no out and century combo at Appleby."

"We on that match, too."

"Anyway, so when I walk into Tottenham's office to deflect I go to his bookcase and say: 'Have you read all these?' He put down the cane – I remember that thing: long and thin wood like willow or something; and he walks up to me and says: 'Mantlepiece, you remind me a lot of me when I was young. I remember the mothball smell of his tweed, worn and cut like a Lord."

"He was a real Lord you know?" Hellmantle nodded.

"How could anyone forget that?" D'Aqs looked like he was fifteen again, sitting on the bottom bunk hunched over feeling socially awkward. "So Lord Tottenham and I stood looking at his books until we both reach out for a book at the same moment. And that's when we both laughed, and I knew I would get a lecture instead." D'Aqs had an image of Tottenham running down the hallways of Eton or Harrow in between patrols by the master on night duty.

"So then what was the lecture? Do you remember?" Hellmantle brought his eyes to D'Aqs' in a rare moment of eye contact.

"Yes! I remember! It was a life-altering moment for me too." He recollected silently as he stroked his fluffy beard. "If you recall I started to wear a Herringbone tweed after that."

"So what did he say to you?"

"After some minutes flipping through books, he said: 'You know _Mantlepiece_ , if you can read that book in your hand than that would be the best punishment solution for you. Only if!' he said, raising his hand. ' _Only if_ you never get a twenty-four again! Deal?' He put out his hand and I was nervous as hell, because he hand was so big!" "D'Aqs laughed at the unknowing Aspergers manifesting it so early.

"What book were you holding?" He shook his head.

" _Chaz_ said he had started to read in a whole other way after he read _Leaves of Grass_."

"Whitman?"

"I read most of it, enough to write a paragraph or page and hand it to him to read. Yeah, I could say it had a very similar impact on me too." D'Aqs felt admiration at his cleverness to deflect to bookshelves before the business at hand, and envy at how his own caning had been horrible that left emotional scars.

"So you went in for a caning and left confidence with the Lower School Headmaster with a book of poetry in your hand and a new flair for herringbone tweed?"

"That's about right, but back to that night when Grandfield caught all you guys. I remember so clearly when we had just got to the bottom of the stairs, you know-"

"Yes."

"I was the one who opened the door and for a full second at least we stared at each other, eye-to-eye." They laugh together. "I mean, what is this guy doing up at four in the morning by the showers? I still relive that moment sometimes out of the blue; his unshaven and coarse hair, his pale skin, his skinniness, his _intensity._ "

"So how do you think that saved you? Do you think he recognized your face?"

"I've been wondering that so twenty-five years. If I saw him how couldn't he see me? So immediately we're all running for our lives, right? I knew exactly where Grandfield would go: it was either D Dorm or ours in B. So I ran after him listening to his footsteps, and when he went up the extra flight of stairs, I ran into the dorm and slipped under my covers maybe ten seconds before Grandfield arrived. Once the lights came on he could see who was still out there in the woods. I never understood that."

"What?"

"Why some guys ran back to the safety of the trees. It was so obvious you would get the cane." D'Aqs looked away, not wanting to admit that that was exactly what he had done. Hellmantle's red-stained teeth made him smile.

"Yep, you sure are weird, and get an A-plus for consistency."

"Thank you. I never fall into the category of _normal!_ I never have and never will, and I'm proud I don't. It behooves all men to live an extraordinary life in my opinion. Never be normal because normal is unexciting and it has been done before."

"Yeah but it's not safe, you riding and chewing betel. It's reckless."

"Seems to me we both did it on Luzon."

"That was _one_. You've had what? Five so far?"

"With the amount of motorcycling experience I have under my belt I don't think you should worry about me. It's you I worry about with your riding technique. Watch me and learn My Son because I am among the best who ever lived when it comes to this. So let it go – your worries – and let's focus on the prison we have on our agenda this morning. When we go to the prison," he said more to God than to himself, "we need to be patient, so we don't miss anything. Only with patience and humility we will best serve God. Even contemplative warrior monks must perform some labor, and cannot live without devoting time to activities other than contemplation!"

Outside the colonial hotel immediately they both saw the convergence of several rivers that they couldn't have seen last night due to darkness.

"Look," said D'Aqs. "There are three rivers that converge here."

"Or four if you include that dried stream there." Hellmantle pointed to an intermittent stream. "It likely comes alive during the rainy season."

They warmed up their engines and clipped their helmets to their knapsacks, preferring the wind in their hair than the claustrophobia of a tight-fitting hat.

Heading toward the prison, they stopped on a bridge from where they could see the yellow walls on the prison up on a escarpment above where the rivers met.

"This must be it," said D'Aqs. No more words were spoken because Hellmantle knew in his gut that this was the prison where the _Great Dane_ had left the map.

Reaching the prison above where the rivers converged, they stood in front of what was left of the doorway to the old colonial prison.

"Damn!" said D'Aqs. "All this way to find the thing smashed up!"

"Oh ye of so little faith," came the reply. They hadn't been able to see this old part from the road because it was way up on the hill. The prison had been completely blown apart but some walls and cells were still partially standing. There was a part, the main body, where there was a second floor balcony intact right along a steep grade in the hill.

Parking their motorcycles they walked around to the main part but didn't see anything but the bars on the windows in the European style. The jungle was in the process of overtaking the old wall. The barracks where the guards would have slept was the only part of the jail that was still untouched, as well as the infirmary with old wooden floors. It was still in beautiful condition. It was now part of a museum with some rooms being used as offices. Everything was open so the two cousins checked out everything, not letting one single nook or cranny escape their inspection.

"Where is everyone? We're going have to pay to get in," said D'Aqs, looking around as if someone were spying on them.

"Those that run it must still be sleeping in the office." So Hellmantle led the way by checking each room on tiptoes to minimize suspicion from any wandering Vietnamese ladies who ran the museum. One eventually caught the two Normans and they paid the twenty cents for admission.

"You want tour?" the lady asked.

"No, it's okay. We will do a self-guided tour," Hellmantle replied. The Vietnamese lady nodded in approval and went about her business.

In the museum section the walls were covered with black and white photographs, each hanging crooked. Every photo was scrutinized efficiently with some deserving more attention than others. All the enlarged photos showed the French using the prison and many showed the abuses of the Vietnamese by the French officers clad in kepis. From these rooms Hellmantle was able to have a better idea of the original layout of the prison during French rule. At the end of the corridor they climbed creaky wooden stairs up one of the two turrets on the east side of the compound. What was likely once a _gendarmes_ old personal living quarters with balcony and sectioned rooms spreading south down the hill, it gave a good view of the rivers below. From high on the hill on the second floor, they both could see the four rivers converging by the hotel. The small intermittent creek was too small for the map.

"Remember, the map is buried in the east tower lying at the mouth of four rivers behind the inscribed stone and hidden by an oak," Hellmantle said like a student wanting his homework checked when he knew it was right.

The way the morning sun reflected off the balcony directly into the room caused the wood beams to light up into something that looked alive. The rooms on the other side of the compound appeared to have been transformed into classrooms beside what was now a defunct kitchen. Walking out to the courtyard, Hellmantle could sense the history of it: the horses, the spit, the boots, the laughter and the cries of terror in the deep of night, and the smell of French coffee.

"The French were known for their sharp rule during their stay in Indochina, so it's not surprising that the _Viet Mingh_ destroyed the prison after 1954. They were at least smart enough to keep the courtyard despite the lack of functioning kitchen facilities, unlike the _Khmer Rouge_ who left no more than walls standing in the entire summer retreat town of Kep during their communist revolution in Cambodia."

Now looking as if the betel nut had taken effect, Hellmantle examines his compass and identified what must be the east tower. It was the stairwell closest to the jungle side, where the land jutted upward. There was an opening in the south part of the courtyard so he went through the deep grass to the corner. Hellmantle thanked God that his motorcycle boots protected him from snakes. D'Aqs, who was not wearing motorcycle boots, walked stiffly through what could be a snake pit.

"We're looking for some sort of oak motif," said Hellmantle.

"Look at all the oaks though." They walked to the corner where there was an old oak tree.

"Look!" They both saw the cornerstone at the same time. There was an inscription or mark of some kind on the stone, but it had been painted over and worn from the elements. Hellmantle had anticipated this so he removed sandpaper from his backpack.

"Always have the necessary tools," he volunteered. He bent closer to the stone and saw that it was the cross of the _Blonde Acquitaine_.

"See it?"

" _It's the Acquitaine cross!_ " said D'Aqs.

Hellmantle peeled the foliage away from the tower. Some of the weeds were barbed and sharp, so he slipped on one of his motorcycle gloves. Minute jagged barbs scraped the leather on the glove as he pushed the weeds to the side.

"Look, below the cross. It's an arrow!" The arrow pointed east and downwards to the stump of the oak tree.

"There's a hole." Hellmantle reached in with his gloved hand and pulled out debris of leaves and twigs. Down on his hands and knees, he took out a flashlight.

"I see it!" D'Aqs said from his standing position.

"Can you hold that foliage back for me?" Hellmantle asked. He was about to suggest the gloves but D'Aqs responded with alacrity grabbing the barbed weeds with his bare hands. Just then D'Aqs let out an involuntary cry.

"Damn!" he yelled to cover up his outburst.

"Nice one. _Trooper_." There was blood where his hand had been ripped by the barbed weeds. "Chin up." He tried in vain to repress his laughter, so in an effort to hide his mirth Hellmantle reached deeper into the hole.

"Is there something?" He pulled out the last of the grass and soil and then reached in deeper this time.

"What is it?" D'Aqs let go of the foliage and promptly put his hand, albeit a bit gingerly, into his pocket.

"There's something hard and smooth. Wait! It feels like it's a corner of a bottle." Hellmantle stood up from the stump and removed his knapsack and put on the other glove.

"A bottle?"

"Yeah, it feels like a bottle. It's slippery. I need more space. It's buried in there."

"It's been there over fifty years."

"Yeah, yeah." Hellmantle knelt down again shining the light directly into the hole in the earth. When he bent his neck at a hyper-extended angle, his heart jumped into his throat. For a second he couldn't breathe. From the light of his flashlight he saw a reflection of glass. He lied flat on his chest and reached as far down the stump as he could.

"There is something else that feels like a cork." This time Hellmantle was able to grasp the top of the bottle. Wiggling it a little, he finally had enough of a grip to pull it out.

" _This!_ " unable to complete his sentence. Hellmantle was laughing hysterically. His eyes popping out of his head as he rubbed his hands around the bottle with noted care. He was on the verge of losing control.

"You've got it! I can't believe it!" The bottle was small like a medicine bottle. The cork was jammed in deeply so it required care to remove it. Hellmantle held it in his hand for them both to look at.

"There's something inside."

"I see it," said D'Aqs.

"Let's not open it here. In fact we should split."

"We should." Hellmantle made one final reach deep in the hole and found nothing more.

Placing the bottle in his bag, he covered the hole as best he could and they walked briskly together unseen to the prison's main compound and then under the gateway where old Frenchmen had once saddled their horses. There, Hellmantle lit a smoke. He was so giddy he could hardly stand still. D'Aqs stood there shaking his head with his mouth wide open. The missionary felt his edifice of belief threatened as if by an earthquake.

# Chapter 29

_Concerning the discovery of the bottle and what lies inside of it_

## French Prison, 100km east of Dien Bien Phu, Son La Province

## שּׂ

The sky had clouded over and rain was immanent so helmets were preferable. Hellmantle started his motorcycle and tucked his hair away from his eyes under his helmet.

"Fortune favors those who help themselves!" he yelled. With his eyes like pee holes in the snow, Hellmantle popped a wheelie and they rode off north towards _Dien Bien Phu_.

But in Hellmantle's excitement he couldn't wait to make it to _Dien Bien Phu_ , so at the first decent waterfall, Hellmantle parked.

"Are you sure this is wise?" Hellmantle, looking very much like a boy who had been given a Christmas present by Santa Claus, bolted up the mountainside away from the road leaving D'Aqs standing there with his hands on his hips in the light drizzle. He threw up his hands and joined his manic cousin in a secluded spot where they sat down. The cork had been pushed in deeply so it was difficult to twist out. With his Swiss Army knife, Hellmantle edged around the cork and was able to loosen it. After a minute the cork dislodged from the bottle.

"Easy!" said D'Aqs, now as giddy as Hellmantle. D'Aqs was in a state of suspended disbelief. Then with the tweezers from his knife, Hellmantle guided the rolled paper out of the bottle. There were two pieces rolled together.

"This one isn't paper. I can tell from the weight that it's papyrus. I have seen the same material from Egypt. It's old! And maybe it's from the hand of Joshua the Nazarene Himself!"

"No, no."

"Do you see now, dear D'Aqs, that our destiny is such that we will find the missing documents and restore distorted truth with truth?" The edges were discolored on both but there were no tears in the material. Only some mildew on one of the corners of the papyrus marred its quality, and some of the ink had faded.

Gently Hellmantle opened the rolled papyrus on a rock. There before them was a small map with mountains and valleys and markings that indicated a place close to a mountain with an 'X'. There was writing along the top that was illegible to Hellmantle.

"I'm not much good at anything other than motorcycling," he said. "But you are good with languages, are you not?"

" _That,_ my dear sir, looks like Arabic," he replied. The map only showed geographical markings and was precise in its rendering but with little reference.

"I can't tell what scale this map is in. If it's just these mountains and this valley then it could be anywhere."

"There are four peaks on either side of the valley. That's distinctive," said D'Aqs.

"We need to translate this Arabic so we know where we should look!"

"What about the rolled up piece of paper?" Hellmantle unravelled the paper, which was moist and yellowed with age.

"There is something written on it. It looks like it's French."

"What does it say? There!" D'Aqs pointing to the handwriting. "It's French."

"Don't tell me you don't read French!" Hellmantle said, alarmed and surprised. D'Aqs blushed.

"My French isn't that good despite growing up in Canada. I've never had the chance to really learn French."

"But it's your mother tongue, the language of the _Desposyni!_ The most beautiful language in the world." He only shrugged and again pointed to the writing on the soggy piece of yellowed paper.

"What does it say?" Hellmantle leaned over the paper and read:

' _Devant toutes choses quiquioques seit chevalier de Christ. Eslisant tant sainte conversation, toi entor la profession, covient ajouster pure diligence e ferme perseverance, qui est si digne et si sainte, et si haute est coneue a ester, que se ele est gardee purement et pardurablement, tu desserviras a tenir compaignie entre les martirs qui donernet por Jhesu Christ lor arms.'_

"Unbelievable!" he said. "It's a quote from the spiritual father of the First Crusade!" Connective tissue to real history!

"Can you translate it from the French into English?" Hellmantle, proud of his heritage and protective of all that was French, could not resist giving D'Aqs a look of pity.

"It is from our spiritual leader Saint Bernard de Clairvaux. It's the Prologue to the Latin Rule. In English it means:

Above all things whoever is a knight of Christ choosing only holy conversation, you who have taken the vow should add pure diligence and firm perseverance, which are worthy and holy and recognized as elevated virtues, so that if you observe it in all its purity and eternity you will be worthy of keeping company with the martyrs who give their souls for Jesus Christ.

"My word!"

" _I bet it's written by the Great Dane himself!_ It must be a message to whomever finds the map. Look!" Hellmantle pointed to something written at the bottom of the piece of paper that had faded from time. The words ' _Vale de Kashmir'_ were written in pencil that were faded.

"What does it mean?"

"Kashmir Valley in French! The map must be of Kashmir Valley! That's where Thomas is! And here, it says _Heaven on Earth_." There was an eerie silence at the sound of these words. Only the sound of splashing waterfall was heard as well as the mix of sounds from the jungle around them.

"In India?"

"Don't forget cousin that we are the _Desposyni_ , and as such have a responsibility to maintain our identity and honor our bloodline. As Saint Bernard de Clairvaux once wrote:

Such are they whom God chooses for himself and gathers from the furthest ends of the earth, servants from among the bravest in Israel to guard watchfully and faithfully his Sepulchre and the Temple of Solomon, sword in hand, ready for battle."

Amazed and overcome, D'Aqs for the first time envied Hellmantle's zeal and dedication to the _Desposyni_ cause. He saw that in his own life he didn't have beliefs so passionate and unyielding. His cousin's belief was so deep and his obsession with Grail lore so sincere that it had originally struck fear into gut, but now, with the discovery of the map, there was a newcomer to the mix of emotions stirring within him. It was a feeling of guilt that he had been too skeptical and disbelieving for too many years about this hidden history. Looking into Hellmantle's bloodshot eyes, he felt shame for not having faith in his father that this history had some historical basis to it all. There before him was an ancient map proving that this legend was real and not a fairy tale. The map, the lost scroll and the legend of the Holy Grail might be as real as the cut on his hand. D'Aqs then made a silent vow before God to now put faith in his eccentric cousin and to follow him to the end of his quest.

# Chapter 30

_Concerning the journey to Dien Bien Phu in honor of their grandfather_

the Great Dane Hellmantle of Normandy

## Along the Da River Valley, Son La Province

## שּׁ

An Asian jungle covered the steep mountain range on both sides of the road that camouflaged its height. Trees so lush that it looked like one prolonged colony of abundant moss covering a long stretch of rock. The mountains were so high up that the orographic factor kicks in. It was moist up there in the mountains of northern Vietnam but the sun still singed the treetops every afternoon. Since the valleys were so deep, a lot of the moisture from the rain remained unburnt in the underbrush. The river narrowed as Hellmantle and D'Aqs climbed along the dugout side of the mountains. The engines hummed as they closed on the site of the battle. A sign saying _Dien Bien Phu_ in English told them they were close. The vegetation was still as thick as it was a thousand feet below. Hellmantle enjoyed leaning into turns around slow corners as he pressed on past steep drops with only a token, broken-down guardrail as a buffer against a freefall a thousand feet down.

It was past nine when they finally turned onto the main road in _Dien Bien Phu_. All the stores were shut but there were groups of people hanging around a motorcycle or two. Hellmantle rode all the way down the road until he hit the countryside on the other side of town. During the ride through the main road there was only one possible place he saw that could be a guesthouse, so he doubled back and found a dormant palm-tree laden inn that was open.

Hellmantle, feeling the effects of his bitter and chewy breakfast, barely had enough energy to walk to the kitchen and wolf down a half-dozen boiled eggs sans yoke with tough stale bread and water and beer. The still air caused him to feel the windburn on his cheeks. Sitting there at the table he looked down at his muddy boots. That moment he yearned for his nine-year old pair of _Arizona Birkenstocks_.

"We need your passport sir," said the hotel manager who had checked them in.

"Why?" Hellmantle asked.

"So I can enter data into the records." He forgot how much paperwork existed in a communist system.

"Oh yeah, the passport," he said slowly as he reached for his cold Double X beer.

"When sir?"

"I'll get it when I merge up to my room when I'm done here," he replied motioning to the pile of broken eggshells in front of him. Just as the small Vietnamese man was about to speak, Hellmantle gave him a nod indicating that he would prefer to eat in peace. He left the tall foreigners to their strict dinner of boiled eggs and bread and crackers and chips and packaged peanuts. The cook was thoughtful enough to bring a side dish of salt that clung to the hot albumin effectively, but to D'Aqs it was a feast fit for a king. The road had worked him hard and had awakened a deep faith in their purpose.

The hotel's café was empty so Hellmantle took out the papyrus map.

"If this map is of India, then what your father believes might be true."

"Are we certain it's India?"

"See, it shows the Ganges. And it says ' _Vale de Kashmir_.' It's definitely India."

"What theory of his may be true?" Hellmantle gave him a look. "Well he has so many!" They both looked at D'Aqs' cut hand.

"It's his idea that Jesus survived the crucifixion." Instead of his usual rolling of the eyes upon hearing this, D'Aqs no longer considered it utter nonsense, which was new.

"Do you _really_ think Jesus survived the cross?" Hellmantle took a long swig from his beer and tried to open his eyes a bit more from the slits they were. The bridge of his nose was already peeling from the ravages of the sun.

"If it hadn't been for Simon Kokhbar's unsuccessful rebellion in 66AD, then perhaps things would have worked out differently after Jesus' crucifixion. But this was not the case. Instead Jesus' original message underwent a transformation into what is known as _Pauline Christianity_ , named after the efforts of the Apostle Paul."

"Original name was Saul, was it not?"

"Yeah. The gospels went through an evolution where they changed the emphasis of the religion to ensure survival in a stricter, post-rebellion Roman province. That's why so much of the New Testament is written in code, like the Book of Revelation. In fact it was from this rebellion in Palestine that lasted from 66-70AD that essentially outlawed all adherents of non-Pauline Christianity. The real inheritors of the message of Jesus went to Syria and Mesopotamia and Egypt, where they carried on their ministry. But they had become a target for Rome to persecute and oppress.

"With the real descendants of Jesus' message outlawed and ostracized, the stage was set for the gradual _body-checking out_ of the adherents to the _uncorrupted message_. The eventual domination was in Rome's favor. It wasn't until the Renaissance that the cult of the Merovingians resurfaced in the form of rebellious art and symbolism on churches."

"Leonardo da Vinci."

"And other leaders of the _Prior de Sion_. Sure. These were expressions of rebellion against the dominant Pauline thought of Rome. So with proper Nazarene teachings branded heresy, Paul's interpretation essentially hijacked the real message of Jesus leaving it discarded and forgotten in history except for those descendants of the bloodline of Jesus. You and I, who are descendants of Jesus' bloodline, the holy blood, represent the _Desposyni_. And some secret societies – like the _Prior de Sion_ and the _Blonde Acquitaine_ \- carry on in secret against the monster power of Rome."

"But the Roman Church is still mammoth."

"Yes. That's why they called Paul the ' _pseudapostolorum_ ,' or a 'false apostle.'" D'Aqs reached for the map and rubbed the bottom corner of what he thought was debris, but it wasn't. It was very small writing that read: " _Deuter 33_."

"Look!"

"I see it! Do you have your Bible here?" Hellmantle asked him. D'Aqs pulled out his mobile _NIV_ and handed it to him. Hellmantle flipped to the _Book of Deuteronomy_ , Chapter 33. "Here you read it. I know this by heart.

D'Aqs took the Good Book and read it aloud:

These are the blessings that Moses, the man of God, pronounced on the people of Israel before he died.

' _The Lord came from Mount Sinai;_

he rose like the sun over Edom

and shone on his people from Mount Paran.

Ten thousand angles were with him,

a flaming fire at his right hand.

The Lord loves his people

and protects those who belong to him.

So we bow at his feet

and obey his commands.

We obey the Law that Moses

gave us,

our nation's most treasured possession.

The Lord became king of his people Israel

when their tribes and leaders

were gathered together.

Moses said about the tribe of Reuben:

' _May Reuben never die out,_

Although their people are few.'

About the tribe of Judah he said:

' _Lord, listen to their cry for help;_

Unite them again with the other tribes.

Fight for them, Lord,

And help them against their enemies.'"

"See? It says _unite them with the other tribes, as in the Ten Lost Tribes of Israel or otherwise known as the House of Israel_. This isn't fiction My Son! We're onto something important!"

" _I see it. I am having a whole new take on this."_

About the tribe of Levi he said:

' _You, Lord, reveal your will by the Urim and Thummim_

Through your faithful servants, the Levites;

You put them to the test at Massah

And proved them true at the waters of Meribah.

They showed greater loyalty to you

Than to parents, brothers, or children.

They obeyed your commands

And were faithful to your altar.

Lord, help their tribe to grow strong;

Be pleased with what they do.

Crush all their enemies;

Let them never rise again.'

About the tribe of Benjamin he said:

' _This is the tribe the Lord loves and protects;_

He guards them all the day long,

And he dwells in their midst.'

"That's us! That's why you're so reckless. He loves us and protects us!"

About the tribe of Joseph he said:

' _May the Lord bless their land with rain_

And with water from under the earth.

May their land be blessed with sun-ripened fruit,

Rich with the best fruits of each season.

May their ancient hills be covered with choice fruit.

May their land be filled with all that is good,

Blessed by the goodness of the Lord,

Who spoke from the burning bush.

May these blessings come to the tribe of Joseph,

Because he was the leader among his brothers.

Joseph has the strength of a bull,

The horns of a wild ox.

His horns are Manasseh's thousands

And Ephraim's ten thousands.

With them he gores the nations

And pushes them to the ends of the earth.'

About the tribes of Zebulun and Issachar he said:

' _May Zebulun be prosperous in their trade on the sea,_

And may Issachar's wealth increase at home.

They invite foreigners to their mountain

And offer the right sacrifices there.

They get their wealth from the sea

And from the sand along the shore.'"

About the tribe of Gad he said:

' _Praise God, who made their territory large._

Gad waits like a lion

To tear off an arm or a scalp.

They took the best of the land for themselves;

A leader's share was assigned to them.

They obeyed the Lord's commands and laws

When the leaders of Israel were gathered together.'

About the tribe of Dan he said:

' _Dan is a young lion;_

He leaps out from Bashan.'

About the tribe of Naphtali he said:

' _Naphtali is richly blessed by the Lord's good favor;_

Their land reaches to the south from Lake Galilee.'

About the tribe of Asher he said:

' _Asher is blessed more than the other tribes._

May he be the favorite of his brothers,

And may his land be rich with olive trees.

May his towns be protected with iron gates,

And may he always live secure.'

People of Israel, no god is like your God,

riding in splendor across the sky,

riding through the clouds to come to your aid.

God has always been your defense;

his eternal arms are your support.

He drove out your enemies as you advanced,

and told you to destroy them all.

So Jacob's descendants live in peace,

secure in a land full of grain and wine,

where dew from the sky waters the ground.

Israel, how happy you are!

There is no one like you,

a nation saved by the Lord.

The Lord himself is your shield and your sword,

to defend you and give you victory.

Your enemies will come begging for mercy,

and you will trample them down.'

D'Aqs finished reading and took a long drink from his bottle of Double X beer.

"You see? The Lord is our defender and shield. We are protected by the divine force of the world, and are invincible in the tasks we set for ourselves. Our blood is blessed and our life can be as rich and rewarding as we design. In the name of divine chivalry, God succors us and gives us the moxie to persevere in the face of adversity. So cast off doubt my dear cousin! And be at my side when we find this missing scroll and right the wrongs that have reverberated for centuries from our sworn enemy Rome!" There was madness in his demeanor, which caused D'Aqs to fear in his gut. Here, so far away from civilization, the madness was magnified. If challenged he might trip over his own words and fall into the abyss where he couldn't be retrieved.

"Yes. My doubt is quelling and I'm seeing the divinity of our mission."

"The people of Israel, all twelve tribes, are the flock that Joshua the Nazarene wanted to unite under his leadership. He was the shepherd who was in search of his lost flock. And this flock was the scattered lost tribes. And he was killed for it! This is my beef, D'Aqs! This is my _biggie_. Why aren't we taught this? Why does one need to spend years reading and researching on one's own to discover this truth? _Why_ didn't anyone ever tell us in school that this was what Jesus was all about? It's high time that we present it to the world so people understand why the peoples of Northern Europe adopted Christianity. We are Israelites, the Ten Lost Tribes! Tell me this is not important to know! It's _everything_. It's our identity in history. It explains why the Bible applies to us. And it explains why the morality of the Bible is the very foundation of our legal system throughout the West. How can this _not_ be taught?"

It was late now and not a single person stirred on the main street of Dien Bien Phu. Hellmantle went up to his room in a haze of betel nut without fetching his passport for the man waiting for it at the front desk.

# Chapter 31

_About what the motorcyclists see on the fields in Dien Bien Phu_

## Dien Bien Phu, Lai Chau Province

## שׂ

In the morning after many cups of coffee and Vietnamese cigarettes, Hellmantle was jittery from the volume of coffee intake so he again popped betel nut and chewed until his teeth were bright red. The visit to _Dien Bien Phu_ was much more personal for Hellmantle, D'Aqs thought to himself. He knew so much about the battle and all the details surrounding the death of his grandfather Dane Hellmantle that he needed to take the edge off. His face crinkled in bitter distaste once again when he chewed it. After drinking more coffee his teeth were orange when he smiled.

"Don't give me that look. I'm master of my own vessel and I can do whatever I want in this country. You're not my mother. Nor are you my chaperon. You are my squire who is still getting his motorcycling legs. I need to look out for you on these roads, so it behooves me to have a calm state of mind."

"I didn't say anything."

"No, of course you didn't. But you looked at me like I'm crazy. We're on an archaeological espionage operation, an important one at that, so I don't want your shadows casting second thoughts on our holy quest."

"I know from experience that he who sticks his head in a beehive will get a face full of honey," he replied. He didn't say it but D'Aqs now had a guarded trust and an undeserved supernatural faith in Hellmantle, perhaps because he had taken them this far without as much as a scratch on him. He looked at the redness spreading around the cut on his throttle hand.

"I like honey," said Hellmantle. "Besides, I would have preferred something else but God brought that man with the betel to our table so who am I to disagree with providence?" It occurred to D'Aqs that he was acting the role of the mother. Why should he confound this man in front of him who so obviously had belief and serendipity that appeared to override injury or misfortune?

D'Aqs patted him on the shoulder as if saying 'it's all right,' but Hellmantle jumped back at the contact. Looked at him like D'Aqs had crossed a line. He took a deep breath as his cousin spoke thus:

"It's going to be kind of hard today for you seeing where your grandfather died and all, so just stay loose with it all." Hellmantle showed no emotion at this. Instead he put on his sunglasses so D'Aqs wouldn't scrutinize him. They sat in the shade at the hotel café and watched the day heat up from under slow turning ceiling fans, planning their day with the map outstretched on the table.

Ω

_Dien Bien Phu_ was a small little town with a main street that seemed to have only motorcycle mechanics and garages. Hellmantle didn't waste any time following the map to the battleground. It was a strange sight seeing the artillery still strewn across the field a hundred feet from the main trench. Three big machine guns were still there, broken and battered but a testament to the history that had taken place here nearly fifty years ago. It was what made the sight so eerie, as if the battle had just ended last week. Hellmantle squinted under the glare of the sun looking for the remnants of French Legionnaires that had been lost on the field, but there were none to be found.

Parking his bike, he walked out onto the field and then stopped. The deep-green hue of the grass matched the weathered military green of the guns that had failed to keep the _Viet Mingh_ from overtaking the French forces fighting to the last man. The 50-meter trench was still exactly as it had been during the battle. The field fell away to a wooded field below but there was a ridge to the north that had been where the _Viet Mingh_ hid. The trench was locked off so he couldn't open the door and walk in the trench. Just as well because Hellmantle could sense the spirits still stirring around the trench and it might be unwise to tamper with them. It was more than enough standing on the battlefield.

Back on the motorcycles, they followed the road a hundred meters or so until they found some graves. They dismounted and together checked the tombstones carefully but did not find one with the name Dane Hellmantle.

"He only had two-and-a-half months left in his five-year commitment to the Legion before Grampa was killed. It saddens me that my father never had the chance to visit his father's grave," said Hellmantle, who was now emotional. He watched the birds flying from tree to tree all around them.

Hellmantle walked dejectedly to a large memorial in the middle of the cemetery where a French flag wavered in the wind. D'Aqs followed.

"No way!" he yelled, standing in front of the memorial. He pointed at the list of names etched into the marble monument. They both scanned the names to find "H" where they saw the surname Hellmantle.

" _There it is!_ " said D'Aqs, leaning over to read what was inscribed beside "Hellmantle, Dane G:"

" _Take this sword: its brightness stands for faith,_

its point for hope, its guard for charity. Use it well."

"Do you know what that is?"

"No," D'Aqs replied.

"That's the Knight's Hospitaller _Rite of Profession Oath_."

"Are you sure?"

"Need you ask?" Hellmantle took out his flask filled with Jamieson's Irish whiskey. "To the Great Dane," he said. "May you never be forgotten. _Salut_." He took a swig and handed it to D'Aqs. It was still early for a drink but he held the flask up in a toast to the Great Dane.

"With respect, to my great uncle I never knew but whom I respect. _Salut._ " Swigged, held in a gag, and handed it to Hellmantle.

"To the _Great Dane's_ identical twin," he said, drinking again. "From one twin to another."

"Looking out to the battlefield _I can feel it_. Imagine the hundreds who parachuted in to save their countrymen."

"Besieged, no supplies or ammo, dropping into almost certain death." The wind stirred and the birds fly overhead in flocks.

"It's like there are restless spirits here," said D'Aqs, spooked.

"I thought if we found his grave then I would have closure and want to have a drink."

"So it was worth lugging that bottle here." They both had another drink from the flask in front of a sign that read:

_Battle of Dien Bien Phu, May 6, 1954_.

" _Do you have closure?_ "

"Not sure yet. I'll let you know when we get back to Hanoi." D'Aqs, who had compassion for those who honored the dead, left him there to have a private moment.

"Grampa, I don't think I ever told you I loved you. I wanted to say it now. I hope you can hear me." Just then a hummingbird appeared in front of him, stopped mid-air flapping its wings, and looked at Hellmantle. He raised his flask and drank. The hummingbird hovered, the fluttering sound crisp, and then moved closer. "And in acknowledgment to the pain he had from losing a twin. We share that. And that comforts me." Another toast. When the hummingbird darted off, he experienced a new emotion, one that he could not put words to. He wondered if it was elation, or a deeper comprehension of what religion was to a man, his heart fluttered with the rapidity of hummingbird wings, a feeling he embraced and knew would never leave him. Without a word he left the site of the _Great Dane's_ bones feeling uplifted, and having a new appreciation for the mystery of the afterlife.

# Chapter 32

_Concerning the departure for Hanoi and the motorcycling required_

to reach Hanoi via the other side of the Da River Valley

## 50km south of border with China, Lai Chau Province

## שׂ

It has been mentioned so far in this narrative that our man from Normandy suffers from what is known as Asperger's Syndrome, and as such he expends his attention on one thing at the sufferance of others. Having found the map and having reached _Dien Bien Phu_ , on the intrepid traveler's agenda now is the enjoyment of the ride back to Hanoi. His intensity is now focused on the art of motorcycling along the well-engineered roads of northern Vietnam. D'Aqs, who is now content that the business has been now taken care of, follows Hellmantle a few car-lengths behind somehow changed by the events of the last few days. But for Hellmantle, encountering the hummingbird against all odds of rationality or explanation, it is an event that is a turning point in his life.

After his visit to the field of battle where his grandfather had died long ago, the philosophy-trained Hellmantle became philosophical as he wheeled back to the main highway that ran alongside the _Da River Valley_. The long, lazy branches of the trees looked like weeping willows hanging sloppily over the river and the road. Always alone in his thoughts, Hellmantle hadn't expected Vietnam to have so much charm. The road was paved and the mountains dominated the landscape with no rice fields to be seen. It is the _other_ Vietnam, the country in the mountains in the north far from cities and civilization that so few had ever seen. The wind elbowed Hellmantle to the north when he reached the swift current of the blue water that whipped past in the deep valley.

Finding an old French-built hotel in the town of _Lai Chau_ , Hellmantle and D'Aqs stopped and passed the flask around, pondering the next two days of the journey back. Following his rule that he never took the same route back to where he began, only if the roads were smooth on the other side of the _Da River_ running due southeast they had a chance of making it back in time for their flight home on Sunday. They were faced with three days' worth of riding to do in only two days. It was already Friday. He didn't discuss it with D'Aqs since he trusted his judgment when it came to all things riding.

D'Aqs handed back the flask of Jamieson's to Hellmantle.

"Not sure how the booze is working when riding. I think I prefer my non-liquid treats. You?"

"No, not such a goodie I'm afraid." D'Aqs replied.

"Really don't mix, do they? I wanted to know if I could do some swigging and ride my motorcycle at the same time and ride well, but I see now that it's not such a good combo." He took the last of the whiskey from the flask.

"The Jamieson's is making me a bit sloppy with my steering."

"Yes, I know what you mean." There was a short man walking towards them on the road by the bridge where they had stopped. The sort man didn't have a bag or anything in his hands. Like most Vietnamese men he was wearing communist-issue blue trousers and blue shirt with a communist cap. As he approached them, Hellmantle stepped towards him.

"Excuse me sir," he said to the man in the communist cap. He held up his hand and gave the man an easy smile, knowing that the man didn't speak English. "Would you like a bottle of Irish Whiskey?" The words didn't register but his eyes took a liking to the tall foreigner with turquoise eyes before him.

"We give you this," Hellmantle motioning with his hands and smiling. He handed him the large bottle of half-full Jamieson's. The Vietnamese man, with very ruddy cheeks, looked at Hellmantle and D'Aqs suspiciously for a moment, so Hellmantle removed the cork and took a drink, groaning at the kick it gave him.

" _Firewater_ ," he said, smiling at the man and making a face. Then he gave it to D'Aqs who also took a last drink. Then D'Aqs handed the bottle to the man. The young man grinned, knowing it was being offered to him as a gift. Accepting the bottle, he sniffed it and then hugged the bottle as if it were a long lost friend. He took a drink and squishes up his face like he had just tasted strong medicine. That was the cue for Hellmantle to start his engine. They both waved at the man as he sipped again from the bottle, and then walked away with the bottle under his arm.

"As the code of chivalry states: '

Thou shalt be generous and give largess to everyone."

When Hellmantle puts on his gloves he realized he still had the cork in his hand. They both watched the man in blue stop after twenty yards and take another drink from the bottle, but he was too far away now.

"With no cork the poor bugger will need to drink the whole bottle in one go!" said Hellmantle. He found this quite funny. With the severe sun, the height above sea level and the booze, Hellmantle, feeling the effects of the betel nuts, was tipsy. His enthusiasm was palpable when he gunned it forward. They would risk it and take the long way back.

Ω

Going almost due north towards the border of China, they rode along a very good stretch of old French-built roadway that allowed maximum utility of riding time with minimal maintenance, carved through the terrain like butter. Without hardly any cars or trucks, the roads were well cut through the mountains and along the higher parts of the river valley. They reached the tip of the _Da River Valley_ , close to the border with China, and then turned due east back to Hanoi. For D'Aqs, the roads were easy compared the roads like the _Halseema Mountain Trail_ so he enjoyed the ride back to home base. But he couldn't help but watch his cousin before him, noticing the zeal he employed on his Russian-made motorbike riding east towards the Gulf of Tonkin.

Images flashed at him like they had come from the recesses of an unidentifiable jungle on a map. Palm leaves the size of human beings mingled with the foliage of recent images of the trench and the artillery that surrounded the battlefield. Hellmantle felt the pride of having motorcycled to the scene of the most famous Legionnaire battle site in Indochina history, and it enriched the riding experience on the return to Hanoi. Knowing he had found the prison where the _Great Dane_ had hidden the map filled Hellmantle with a special spark because it was from his grandfather's own hand that had buried the map at the foot of the oak tree. Now, traversing east across the _Da – Red River_ canyon so far north and so close to the border with China, the return route was a gift from God; a present saying _thank you and well done_ for retrieving this hidden piece of the Christian puzzle. The way Hellmantle saw it; it was only now that the hidden treasure had finally been put in play and destiny brought closer to mankind.

"We have found what we came for in this far-off land, and now it is a question of conquering the remaining way back to Hanoi returning _servants of God_." It was both an expression of his mirth and a prayer to God these words spoken by the man from Normandy.

As far as Hellmantle was concerned, the beautiful riding he was doing was God's reward to him for the effort he had given to the prophecies he had read. He rode today in celebration for following his own beliefs and a celebration of his own motorcycling prowess. At times, when the dialogue in his mind was quiet, he savored the view along the eastern flank along the river valley and the green blur of foliage beside the water and eddies. At a constant speed of eighty, he straightened his arms and enjoyed every second of the ride. He caught a smell of dried leaves in the breeze that blew from beside the road. During these moments he knew that he was using his gift. Unable to share his thoughts, he thought to himself that perhaps this – right at this moment – was the embodiment of the grace of God.

"Movement done with confidence," he said. "Is it not true that what brings us to this part of the world is a holy quest to verify an inheritance that shares a history with the grace of God? Finding _Dien Bien Phu_ has called forth those talents that for the most part go unused during normal existence. Therefore this feeling _right now_ must have significance."

Always the philosopher, Hellmantle pondered this question and talked to himself while riding. "The warrior poet is he who seeks the joy in moments of the _poetic divine_. On my motorbike I seek the beauty of the moment riding. It is only while riding my motorcycle on a quest that my soul stirs with such deep reverence for the divine in man. It is only in this way can a man find his true calling; his true worth; the originality within his own person and his own way of living life! After all, what is the use of studying philosophy if you don't find that thing that feeds the vitality of life?"

It was true that since his graduation Hellmantle had sought to learn his own philosophy of life by adopting philosophies of the greatest minds in history and applying their philosophies to his own life. So great was his study of applying philosophies of great minds to his own life that he had devised criteria for those wishing to do the same. Mulling this notion, he verbalized his thoughts:

"To become a philosophy tester like me, one must have the following requirements:

Philosophy Testers:

 _Adventurous_

 _Daring_

 _Abstract thinker_

 _Motorcyclist_

 _Cartography skills_

 _Thirst for learning_

 _Knowledge of history, philosophy, religion and geography_

 _Willing to travel_

 _Mountain biking skills_

 _Pubbing abilities_

 _Willing to meet new people from around the world_

 _Good health_

 _Ability to write_

 _Freedom to commit full time_

Applicants are encouraged to submit an argument, in any form or shape, outlining how they are worthy of the position. All applicants must possess the raw material of person to conduct a sincere study in its application to living their life. Applicants are required to record all new heights of philosophical insights.

The warmth welled up in his person as the winds cooled the sweat on his skin. He wanted to scream at the top of his lungs, declaring his happiness. He didn't scream, but it was followed by the following words: "I know what it is to become part of the flow up here in these mountains in Vietnam!" When on a motorcycle, the flow took precedence over punctualities, because the flow was more important to the health of his spirit than the hassles of gravity. Again there was an outburst from Hellmantle's lips out to the ethers:

"It is while I am in the flow that I am surrounded by the ancient quiet of nature. I become one with my environment and the world, regardless of where I'm riding. This bite of freedom sustains me and gives me stamina, and helps me overcome the obstacles in my path. _But it is for God whom I serve_. He alone sees it. He alone is my love, my savior and my partner in this quest."

Hellmantle, unafraid of what he knew, experienced that which could not be quantified, which warmed his soul between sounds of the hourglass in the orange hue of a setting sky. "When one is riding like this, there is no arrival. The _now_ is the only splash of time man can own! Biking is more akin to an inner harmony of the soul manifested in the physical realm. Mine is a _biking beef!_ "

There hadn't been any traffic for hours so he was startled when D'Aqs passed him on the outside. D'Aqs could see a grin at the corners of Hellmantle's mouth. After studying the map that morning D'Aqs thought it would be a good job if they could get from _Lai Chai_ to _Sapa_ in a day, but they had just passed both _Sapa_ and _Lao Chai_ already. The roads could not be better. Never before had D'Aqs imagined riding a motorcycle to produce such a divine emotion within his heart.

The sheer scope of the terrain at hand, and the number of kilometers they had traveled from _Lai Chai_ to _Yen Bai_ amazed even Hellmantle. He sped up to overtake D'Aqs.

Finally, when the sun was setting over the mountains behind them, Hellmantle stopped when he found an open guesthouse in Yen Bai. It was only then that he felt his backache and a painful _clutch-hand claw_ after nearly fourteen hours of riding. Soon D'Aqs approached and parked his motorcycle beside Hellmantle's.

"How many men have ever done that before – ridden from _Lai Chou_ all the way to _Yen Bai?_ " Hellmantle asked.

"Not many I'll bet," he replied. Even to Hellmantle's own non-modest perceptions of his motorcycling mettle, they had ridden about 300km.

"It's a worthy question that only God knows the answer to."

# Chapter 33

_Which tells of the final stage of motorcycling back to Hanoi_

and the discussion that follows their most beautiful ride

## Yen Bai, Yen Bai Province

## שׁ

It had been a while since Hellmantle had had such a vivid dream. He couldn't really understand the importance of it. Like so many dreams, the setting had been an extraordinary combination of places he had been to, seen from afar and could piece together, creating an aggregate of images congregating in a melded whole. There was a rich man's house that had been taken over and exploited by a son who chose a life of indulgence and whose house had been the scene of many parties. The house had vast acreage spreading out to an imposing fence that appeared like the home run wall in a baseball park. Hellmantle had been part of the party that had begun in earnest when the rain began to fall and the wind picked up. For some reason he left his friends at the party and went out to the backyard where there was a foot of water covering the grass. Stepping out into the water, he found that when he pushed off he could glide along the top of the water. When the wind really began to blow hard in gusts he pushed off and proceeded to glide atop the water. He could use the wind to carry him like a windsurfer would use the wind, but he could also turn and carom with his feet pointing opposite directions, leaning into turns like a professional barefoot surfer.

It was a thrill in such crystallized purity that he could only marvel at how long the magic could last, wondering whether anyone at the house could see him or was watching him skim along the surface of the water that stretched to the very corner of the fence. Fearing that if he took his eyes off of what he was doing he would lose his ability, Hellmantle surfed and turned and glided and dipped sharply, playing with warm gusts of wind and leaning into corners that saw him flirting with wipeouts. But he didn't fall; he just played with his newfound skill to ride the lip of the rainwater's surface. He could feel the warmth of freshly fallen water in the arches of his feet, enjoying the tickling sensation and somehow knowing that the field was without danger. D'Aqs was there but he couldn't see Hellmantle in the open fields, so when he finally became human again and sank to the ground, he returned to the backyard patio. When he saw D'Aqs, he asked him whether he saw him skimming along the water, he answered that he had but that was all. He was so uninterested. Having just finished surfing on top the water, leaning into gusting wind and playing with the laws of nature, D'Aqs was more concerned with getting on the good side of the host of the party rather than something remarkable; an event to happen once in a lifetime. Such an unbelievable experience to Hellmantle had been so easily dismissed as unimportant and of no interest. He stood there in amazement while people continued to drink and talk about the most trivial trivialities. It was his amazement at D'Aqs complete lack of interest that stunned him to awake.

Ω

Hellmantle was up earlier than D'Aqs for the first time during the trip. The morning was quiet and full of moist smells. He sat there on the patio of the guesthouse under the palm trees pondering his dream. He had read somewhere that walking on water was not the miracle most thought it was; it symbolized applying ones knowledge to life. To walk on water was to do what he knew how to do. But what was the dream saying to him exactly?

"I'm going to miss these roads," said a sleepy voice. "That was awesome yesterday."

"I know. It was. I'd say it was pretty special. Today we'll hit Hanoi and the riding will change into a memory. I doubt I will ever be this way again," feeling alone in his now-fading dream.

"That's usually how it goes." D'Aqs looked at him closer.

"I'm troubled. I couldn't sleep in."

"Why?"

"Not sure. Maybe because it was such a pinnacle of everything yesterday, riding and thinking and existing on such a beautiful plane. I wish I could hold onto it in my hand but I know as soon as I try it seeps out of my grasp like trying to hold water in your hand."

"Well then let it go."

"Then it's only a memory."

"Maybe that's all it ever can be."

"I want to know what it all means. And we need to know what's going on here so we don't screw up. We have the map. We found the grave of Grampa. What's our next step?"

"Let's keep the plan simple. Keep your chin up. I've learned to have faith in your instincts Rollo. Stay the course. You've been correct on all of it when it seemed to me like a wild goose chase. You have a remarkable gift. It would be a sin for you to overlook what you have accomplished. I can understand why you feel this way because there's no one to give you a pat on the back. So I am." He didn't physically touch him but he knew the words would get through to him. "You say that only God witnesses these moments of splendor but I have to disagree because I've witnessed them and I'm not God."

"I'll say." Humor back in play. Good sign.

"I did hope that you would have had some closure with your grandfather because it's obvious how much you look up to him." Hellmantle remembered the hummingbird and instantly it uplifted his spirit. Uncharacteristically he looked at D'Aqs in the eye.

"Thanks D'Aqs. I appreciate that." It was odd seeing his turquoise eyes penetrating through him but he didn't look away. He nodded with solemn respect.

"Give it some thought while we ride the rest of the way to Hanoi. Motorcycling I think does something to you. Stirs your soul in a very healthy way. I only wish that I had something that did that for me. So count yourself lucky." His eyes shifted to D'Aqs' red abrasion on his throttle hand. "Yeah, and you don't have a cut or abrasion on you! Must be divine!" Just like that the glimmer was back in his eye.

Ω

The towns they passed through displayed red communist flags down every main road, all made of the same exact bright red. The red flags contrasted against the deep green of the jungles that was striking to the eye. The children were friendly waving as they rode by but older people looked curiously at them. Still choosing not to wear his helmet, Hellmantle's hair blew long in the wind, protecting the back of his neck from the sun. His beard glittered blonde in the light. He wondered if Rheine was watching him right now, if he could take pleasure from living vicariously through these moments of expertise and freedom, knowing he would be doing the same thing if he were alive. The thought caused him to lift his clutch hand in the air and give the peace sign to the heavens above him, the cloudless sky reflecting light into his sky-blue eyes.

Right before reaching Hanoi, the towns became more numerous. To D'Aqs, it was plain to see how effective the system of communism worked in this country. Without a doubt, Vietnam was a land of agriculture. Wherever the eye could see, there were rice fields all in some stage of fruitful production. Hats dotted the sectioned fields within larger fields defined by elevated walking paths. For D'Aqs, who had a constant need to categorize and digest the character of a country, it was production en masse here; no wonder Vietnam was the biggest supplier of rice to China. _Communism here works_. Compared to the arid and uncared rice terraces in the Philippines, every rice field was lush and fully productive, yielding crops that needed constant attention. To his mind, it was insane to say communism didn't have some effectiveness in a rural country like Vietnam. Unlike the West, so few hung out at discothèques and watched MTV while doing drugs and watching TV. These young men and women were working the fields at a comfortable, state-sponsored pace. There was very little need for most people to have something that their neighbor didn't have. The markets here in northern Vietnam were always full with fresh produce. Was that not the measure of a healthy society? The hue of green was deeper here than anywhere else he had ever seen. No Big Macs or Starbucks to mar the landscape of its traditional beauty. Indeed, the woods were truer than the concrete jungles of modernity. There was a peace here he had never experienced before.

Ω

Hellmantle and D'Aqs reached Hanoi and found the old French Quarter easily. When returning from such an adventure, one that called forth the hidden skills of gamesmanship and survival, Hellmantle could only see the other foreigners as superficial tourists. He saw their clean skin, well-slept eyes and unsullied clothes. Contrasting this, Hellmantle and D'Aqs were dusty and windswept as they stepped off their bikes and walked with a pronounced swagger to the pub.

"Some _ginspotting_ is what we deserve, _n'est-ce pas?_ " said Hellmantle, licking his lips.

"Yeah, I'm thirsty."

They sat at roadside table by the window. The red hue that hung around Hellmantle's face was like a tattletale of their mountain exploits, and was strangely incongruous with the pampered tourists sitting timidly behind him sipping cocktails and staring at the television with the same slouched posture that they had back home.

"Just because these _wank-buckets_ watch the television from a café in Hanoi makes them think they're worldly," Hellmantle said, studying the menu. "These are the same people who take a bus up to see the country and come back _experts_ on the sights, sounds and smells of this out-of-reach foreign land."

"Beer?"

"Yes, of course, but let's take advantage of this special deal of Margaritas that are the house specialty." They ordered boiled eggs in the shell and Heinz beans on crisp toast as well as beer and a pitcher of Margaritas.

"Isn't it reassuring to see the colonial façade of the buildings that line the streets here?" said D'Aqs.

"Yes, I know what you mean. After being out so far in the bush it feels like home just seeing them." The Margaritas arrived and Hellmantle drank the first glass as if it was lemonade. He poured himself another.

"It tells me that communication to the outside world exist and that we are again safe. The world we have just returned from is a world unseen to most."

"But it is there to all to see. People don't have the balls to go out and see it. Most here don't even have backpacks; they have suitcases with wheels! They have digital cameras poised for a quick photo yet the opportunity never comes. They spend the money to get to a place like Hanoi but then let their precious finite time slip through their fingers watching television in silent relief. This is why simply going somewhere ceases to solve the underlying problem. They return as they were before they left.

"Look at the two of us for example. People could easily think we had gone native. We could be guys who have perhaps turned our back on Western ways and had married a Vietnamese girl, two wanderers in dusty clothes who had chosen to live among the villagers. But to the sporting eye, we may pass as photojournalists after an extended assignment, who had been forced to find our object of study and analysis very far away, perhaps a historical site or investigating a social issue. And some still, who may be partial to the military mind, seeing all the dust caught in our beards and hair, may prefer to think we are young retired military officers who had chosen to live in a cheap foreign land so our pension has more spending power, and who through time have adopted more and more of the native ways. Or perhaps we're Special Forces tasking incognito as travelers? We are objects of interest to them all.

"But all of them are asking: 'Where the Hell were you?'"

"Sure, I can see that. All are possibilities. I see the way they're looking at us."

"For me it will be yesterday that will remain with me after many moons have come and gone," he said. "French-engineered roads through the mountains of Vietnam. Who would of thought? I think I had a _moment_."

Knowing the act of explanation of his flow could never truly be communicated to another, Hellmantle let his thoughts of it reverberate within his own mind. D'Aqs saw him pondering something that took his eyes inward for a few moments on another autistic journey. In this moment D'Aqs realized that their trip to the highlands of Vietnam had made Hellmantle different in some way. Something had been proven because he wore the expression of distinguished accomplishment. Perhaps it was his chin that was raised slightly, or the mountain sun still emitting from his eyes, or the skin peeling on his nose, or the windburn of his face; this change attracted curious glances from those in the bar still planning their outing. These were the onlookers who Hellmantle believed talked a fat game but had little substance to back it up.

"I had a dream this morning that's stuck in my mind all day." He described his dream but didn't exclude his disappointment at D'Aqs disinterest.

"Why would you feel that way in your dream, that I wasn't interested in your _foot surfing?_ " Hellmantle ruminated.

"Maybe because part of me doesn't think you're interested in all this stuff?" D'Aqs was careful with his reply.

"I am becoming more and more interested, Hellmantle. That's the truth."

"And I believe you. But having the day to ponder it, I wonder if there's part of me that resents the fact that Rheine is dead. In the dream you would be the natural person I would direct my anger to, obviously having done nothing wrong. My subconscious mind wants Rheine to be with me, not you." D'Aqs laughed at his Asperger directness.

"That could be true."

"I think it is."

"Have you come to terms with his death?"

"What does mean? _Come to terms?_ "

"Accepting it."

"How?"

"By stop resenting it happened."

"I can resent whatever I want."

"No, you can't. Because if you do it will kill you."

"What will?"

"The resentment."

"Resentment will?"

"It's potent enough to take down a man." As Hellmantle contemplated, D'Aqs noticed an aura around him.

"And how would a man overcome resentment at something so unjust?" The Anglican minister sat up and put his hands together on the table.

"By seeing the unjust event as destined, that it _happened for a reason_." This penetrated the Hellmantle firewall.

"That it was fate?"

"Yes, _out of your control_." This struck a nerve.

"But it was in my control! I was the one who dared him to take that stupid jump when I was too scared to do it myself!" Like a shaken bottle, the restless carbonation exploded.

"Just because you dared him didn't mean it was in your control. It was the Wineman's choice. Think of all the times you did one of his dares, or all the times you did chose not to."

"What is this? _Anglican sophistry?_ " D'Aqs didn't take the bait. Kept his eyes firm. Hellmantle picking a hangnail. "It's true, we dared each other all the time."

"I saw it _Mantlepiece_ , firsthand for years. Boarding school is one of those special circumstances when you live with others and see them all the time, even during class. To be honest, it was fascinating." Eye contact.

"So when you say it might have been meant to happen, what are you saying exactly?" He knew exactly what he was going to say but delivered so nonchalantly that Hellmantle would make an effort to understand its full meaning.

"Perhaps his untimely death gave you the life that has led you to being right _here_ , right _now_. Perhaps if you were both hanging out you would still be pulling pranks and _ensconced in mischief_ so that it would have been impossible to have the time to read all those books, all those papers all over your apartment, and go so _deeply_ into this realm of darkness loaded with knowledge, and achieve _greatness_." Never had D'Aqs had such focused attention from him, eyes like laser beams, a window of turquoise dazzling with intelligence within, the fierce hunger to understand, a revelation of ignorance that overwhelmed and crippled, a yearning impossible to ignore that was always knocking on the door. It were the words Hellmantle took with him when he finally looked away and thought.

"I-." A wave of his hand, drank his beer and then lit a cigarette. "I always. I suppose I skipped a step in my logic." He laughed. Tremendous relief from D'Aqs. "I always said to myself, _in my own mind_ , that I killed him. It was me who caused his broken neck." Confession; words rusty from disuse, cobwebs blown away in the Hanoi breeze. "But-." He stood up to retrieve an ashtray from the bar. "But it was his choice as you say, just like all _my_ choices. Not to say it was his fault. But just to say I didn't push him over a cliff, _as it were_."

"Right."

"And maybe you're right, that it happened for a reason. Being alone is the only way one can immerse oneself so thoroughly in a subject of this _magnitude_." D'Aqs knew he had succeeded in withdrawing the festering thorn wedged in this man's paw when he heard the way he enunciated his last word. He nodded and drank half his margarita while marvelling at the healing power of confession.

"Give me one of those won't you Mantlepiece?" Removing a cigarette from his crumpled Vietnamese pack, Hellmantle handed it to the missionary and flicked his lighter. "You're a bad influence on me just like back in B-Dorm."

" _Petite Testi-cleez_ having a smoke. _Never say never_." Smoke stung his eyes like hot lead.

"And let's get a pint. These drinks are too... _too dulce_."

"They are sweet _señor_."

"The last time I had one of these things was with you and the Rheine Man. Remember that? Beside the tennis courts? Must've have been in the fall of that year. I reeked like smoke for week. And I was convinced I was going to get burned from the smell!" They both knew what had just happened and why D'Aqs was smoking; both aware of the danger they had avoided, relieved they had found the only narrow bridge that wobbled through the crosswinds over the abyss.

"It was a bit of a kicker to go over the _Da River Canyon_ when we were so close to the Chinese border," said Hellmantle. "That's when it all started really, the _serious cruising technology_."

"And then back down through _Viet Tri_."

"Yeah, that was groovy too, man. _Very_ groovy."

"It was if I was propelled forward."

"I felt pulled too, all the way down. Effortless."

"Yes, _pulled_. Nice one."

" _Holy_." They drank their margaritas and were resting their feet when beer and more margaritas arrived.

"Something has changed in you," said D'Aqs. "Is it religious zeal?"

"Surely our quest has become holier now?"

"It has. With some physical expenditure."

"But therein lies the pilgrimage. Through physical expenditure and flirting with mortal danger, we show God we are worthy; that _we serve_."

"After that ride, I'm sure we're pretty worthy." They were both drinking margaritas at a swift pace, thirsty on their last night in Vietnam.

"We showed the _mettle_ required to find the map and the _Great Dane's_ resting place."

"And you gave a stranger a forty-ounce bottle of Irish whiskey." Hellmantle was back to his reposed, semi-listening state if chewing on ideas, eyes averted, hand stroking the tip of his chin.

" _Rheine_ always said: _To conquer is a skill; to continue to conquer is an art."_

"You both had a philosophical bend to you back as kids."

"One can spout as much _Carpe Diem_ philosophy as they wish but when push comes to shove, only action, or _lack of action_ , indicates the degree one lives of their life philosophy. This _cleavage_ separates the ivory-tower philosophers and the thinkers who change the world. One talks a good game and the other lets their actions reveal their true self. One is soft and one is hard; they are two separate creatures. One makes history, and the other makes academic theory."

"Yes." Back to his comfort zone with illusions of grandeur was a good thing.

"It is to us that this monumental task has fallen. It is a quest to which I have dedicated my life, in the name of my fallen brother and for the unmatchable beauty of...of the artist Asher, to see if these prophecies are true. We can only undertake this quest if our will is pure and we keep proving that we are worthy vessels as we inch forward towards the final goal. We are _prophecy testers_."

Yes. And I'm starting to think that perhaps all this motorcycling is necessary so the candidate can prove to God that he has a worthy character."

"Like Galahad. Not like Lancelot, who was _not worthy_."

"I don't know what to believe anymore." D'Aqs took a deep breath of some of the Hanoi lush air. "This quest is causing me to have unsure footing in the realm of nihilism."

"Well then comfort yourself by knowing that nihilism is the only path that enables you to think for yourself. As they say, _sometimes it's time to break open a new bar of soap_." When D'Aqs inhaled he coughed and gagged, smoke coming out of nose.

"'Bit of a dry heave in there." Hellmantle's laugh interrupting him. "I seem to recall you did that that beside the tennis courts last time we shared a smoke." He grinned at the contrast between the trails of wetness below his eyes and the dusty veneer of his cheeks and the mucous on the edge of his nostril.

"My virgin lungs."

"Here, you have-." Instead of using tissue he always had in his pocket D'Aqs wiped his nose with his sleeve.

"I remember that because both of you had a good laugh." D'Aqs drank cocktail-for-cocktail with his old friend, as Hellmantle opened the door to any memory linked to his twin.

Here ends the third part of the rich history of Hellmantle of Normandy, where new records of his deeds come into clearer focus, which will be resumed in the next and final part of this recounting.

### FOURTH PART

Ω

# Chapter 34

_Concerning the visit with the knowledgeable Jack Grosseteste_

and the sally to India

## Kowloon Tong, Hong Kong, China

## ײַ

Most fortunate are the times that Hellmantle of Normandy appeared on this earth to right the persistent wrongs by the Catholic Church and bring light to those who remained on the fence due to a natural skepticism and disbelief at the many fictional aspects of the Bible Story that were inserted by Rome throughout the middle ages. The purity of the original message is now close to being reinstated thanks to the extraordinary effort made by the courageous Rolland Hellmantle in this most troubled time in history. To be sure, the missing content of the gospels is now near at hand to mend the fissures between men of the many religions of the world, and to heal the rift between the House of Israel and the House of Judah. Hellmantle's greatness of task cannot be underestimated, and here the thread of the story resumes after the daring exploits of Northern Vietnam.

"Good. So you found the map, eh?" he said, his teeth stained red from wine.

"Just as Vande Winkle said. It was in the east tower of a prison," said Hellmantle, beaming with accomplishment. "I still don't know what the name of the prison was though."

"No one saw you?"

"The place was empty. The two women who ran it were busy drinking tea in the back room."

"It was a forgotten place Dad, where the people around were happy to be living there."

"And ignorant of its hidden map." Hellmantle still sweating from the ride.

"Can I see the map?" Hellmantle removed the map from his knapsack, as well as a bottle of red wine for his uncle Jack. Out from its tube he gently spread it out on the table.

"Pretty vague, isn't it?" said D'Aqs. His father picked it up carefully to study, and shook his head in disagreement.

"Legend within the _Blonde Acquitaine_ says He settled in a place just north of Srinagar, a town in Kashmir Valley that sits 6000 feet above sea level surrounded by Himalayan peaks isolated from the world, especially 2000 years ago."

So then you believe Jesus survived the crucifixion?" D'Aqs, for his own foundation of belief, needed to know precisely what his father believed.

"Ah! _He who dares not offend, cannot be honest_ , but I dislike clichés. So let me be direct: it's likely He did survive the crucifixion, and that He was married and had children, and it is through His offspring that the Merovingian line of French Kings claim direct descent, as you know. It is from this holy bloodline that most of Europe's royalty come from. That's why all the families are interrelated. They wanted to keep the bloodline of Jesus pure. They even had private schools for these children who bore the blood of Jesus. _For centuries_."

"So I'm interested to know who has the highest concentration of Jesus's bloodline today?"

"Most of the European nobility has the highest degree of the holy blood, but there are a few families that are known to have the highest."

"Such as?"

"Well for example, the Sinclair family in Scotland. The name comes from the French _Saint Claire_ which means _Holy Light_."

"It was the Messiah's hope that a bloodline of kings would be established but the Pope and his minions in Rome blighted that," said Hellmantle.

"I know what Mantlepiece here thinks about this, but let me ask you Dad. What do you think happened on the cross?"

"The story states that He was buried in Joseph of Arimathea's backyard – the family home's garden. Jesus was likely revived in the tomb – now awake from the sleepy draught – and was wise to flee from the authorities in Jerusalem. He then disappears from record until years later rumors circulate and a legend grows that Jesus died of old age up in Northern India where it was said He continued His ministry alongside His disciple Thomas. That's the general theory, but there's more to the picture than people want to say. For example, is it a coincidence that the person who took His body from the cross was Joseph of Arimathea, also known to history as Jesus' younger brother James?"

Hellmantle was all ears as he uncorked the bottle he brought and filled everyone's glasses.

"I don't usually speak so much about the Bible," said the professor, "but the history it speaks of is of great interest to me. From everything I have read and studied, I think that Jesus as a man was actually quite rebellious and politically savvy with several zealots as part of his disciples. He was looking to re-instate the royal line and become king, a leader – at least through bloodline. But he was thwarted."

"He was thwarted by the Pharisees who rejected him because He was born in the wrong month?"

"Yes. They were pretty strict in the intricate rules that have applied for centuries. If a male was born in September they the royal couple had to wait six years to have another child. If it was a girl they would have to wait two years. Look it up if you don't believe me."

"It's not a question of believing you Dad. It's a question of why this story is taught to millions – _or billions_ – of people when the story is inaccurate."

"A worthy question son."

"One of things that made him dangerous to the establishment," said Hellmantle, "was, as I've told you before, He wanted to bring back the Ten Lost Tribes of Israel – _the House of Israel_ \- into the fold. The tribes were scattered and the disciples went to all the primary spots of dispersed Israelites. Andrew went to Scotland and James went to Spain and Thomas went up to northern India because 'White India,' as it was known, was a land inhabited by some of the ten lost tribes of Israel."

"Do you think that Thomas was His identical twin?"

"It was a belief that was mainstream until centuries after His death." Hellmantle stood up, erect with curiosity and now with that familiar flush of wine on his cheeks.

"I have a question _pour vous_ my uncle," he said, lighting a cigarette. "Do you know if it was Doubting Thomas who was sitting beside Jesus during the Last Supper?"

"Well, I don't know, but let me check a book." He opened the ' _Dictionary of Christian Lore and Legends.'_

"It was the Beloved Disciple who was beside Jesus," Hellmantle with that firm tone of secure knowledge. Dr. Jack Grosseteste flipped some pages.

"Here it is. Yes, that's right," he mumbled into the book. "At the Last Supper, the _Beloved Disciple_ was leaning on Jesus' bosom. He was at the foot of the cross when Jesus says to him 'Mary is your responsibility now,' and takes her into his home as his own mother. It was Peter and the _Beloved Disciple_ who bump into Mary Magdalene after she finds the tomb empty. And it was the _Beloved Disciple_ who was the one who recognized Jesus when they were fishing just after the crucifixion."

"Wait!" said D'Aqs. "Wasn't it Thomas, Peter and Nathaniel who were there during the _Draught of the Fishes?_ " He said it as a question but he was sure he was correct.

"Yes," Hellmantle answered.

"You think _the Beloved Disciple is Thomas?_ Not John?"

"Well he's not mentioned by name _for a reason_ , but why would they list those three disciples when they met Jesus fishing? And why would Jesus hand over care of his mother to _John_ , as it is commonly believed, who has no familial connection to him?"

"I've always wondered about that too."

"Isn't it more likely that Jesus would hand over care of His mother to His brother Thomas?"

"Many regard the _Beloved Disciple_ as John, that's true," said Jack Grosseteste. "He's believed to be Jesus' favorite, but it's a good point. If Jude Thomas was Jesus' brother, why wouldn't _the disciple whom Jesus loved_ be given care of Mary?"

"It makes more sense," chimed in Hellmantle, now flushed. "And if Thomas was his twin, wouldn't it make sense that he would be sitting beside him during the Last Supper?" D'Aqs was nodding. "Wait, didn't Da Vinci paint the Last Supper and have someone identical to Jesus beside him?" D'Aqs shrugged.

"Yes, I think he did. Let me find the painting." No doubt the professor knew his books well as it didn't take him long to find Da Vinci's Last Supper. There, with the page open for all to see, it was uncanny how the Beloved Disciple looked identical to Jesus. To Jesus' left was a man of the same age who was sporting the same hair and beard and coloring as the Messiah.

"Well, isn't that interesting," said the professor.

" _That_ is His twin brother. They're identical. Even the way they're leaning towards each other." They looked at him. "It's a twin thing. I should know."

"Yes," said his uncle nodded, hiding his surprise that his nephew spoke of his dead twin. "Perhaps it is."

"It makes more sense."

"How?"

"If Thomas is his twin, wouldn't it make sense that he would sitting beside him during the Last Supper?"

"I don't know. I'm not an identical twin like you." Jack Grosseteste filled his nephew's glass with wine.

"My understanding of this painting is that the man to the immediate left of Jesus with his finger pointing upwards has traditionally been regarded as Thomas," said D'Aqs. "And the man who is sitting right beside Jesus is Joseph of Arimathea."

"And/or James, the brother of Jesus," said Hellmantle. "And/or James the disciple."

"The point is that if the Beloved Disciple is beside Jesus, then it's either Thomas or James. But taking everything into consideration, it's most likely Thomas because look how similar they look!"

"Yes, I agree," said his father. "That is interesting. I've never really studied it this closely." An eerie silence was broken by the omma announcing supper was ready, but Jack Grosseteste told her to wait because they were busy investigating something that could not wait. He quickly opened his Bible and began flipping the pages rapidly.

"There's a passage in here that, come to think of it, is quite suggestive that Jesus did survive and meet Thomas in northern India. It's the Last Supper, when Jesus said to Thomas and the Twelve:

'Do not be worried and upset,' Jesus told them. 'Believe in God and believe also in me. There are many rooms in my Father's house, and I am going to prepare a place for you. I would not tell you this if it were not so. _And after I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you myself, so that you will be where I am. You know the way that leads to the place where I am going.'_

"He says that to Thomas?" Hellmantle asked. "At the Last Supper?"

"Yes. And it is Thomas who replied. 'Lord, we do not know where you are going; so how can we know the way to get there?' Then Jesus says: 'I am the way..."

"If _Thomas, Jude Thomas, Didymus Thomas, Thomas the Twin, Jude the Twin_ is Jesus' identical twin," Hellmantle said, "then Jesus would be with him in India if He survived the cross. And it would be the twin who would openly question the Messiah. _That's what identical twins do."_

"If you're interested in Thomas so much Rolland, you need to read the Gospel of Thomas."

"You have it?" Hellmantle was again on his feet.

"I have a copy somewhere here." He rummaged through his shelves skimming titles until he pulled out a thinly bound book with frayed pages.

"I've been looking for a copy for _years!_ "

"The Gospel of Thomas, discovered in 1945," said D'Aqs, trying his best to contribute to the discussion.

"Correct. But some scholars believe that it was written as early as 40AD, and that the Gospel of Thomas is the missing _Q document_."

"The original Gospel."

"The account of Jesus that the other gospels refer to. Yes D'Aqs, the original source of all the gospels." He handed it to Hellmantle. "Here, don't lose it kid. They're hard to come by over here." He stared at it.

" _The missing Q_."

"Remember," added D'Aqs, realizing that the theory of Thomas the Twin was gaining momentum in his own person, "that it was well known that Jesus loved this _Beloved Disciple_ in a special way. If you recall in the Gospel of John, when Jesus talks to his _Beloved Disciple_ , it says:

Peter turned around and saw behind him that other disciple, whom Jesus loved – the one who had leaned close to Jesus at the meal and had asked, 'Lord, who is going to betray you?' When Peter saw him, he asked Jesus, 'Lord, what about this man?

Jesus answered him, 'If I want him to live until I come, what is that to you? Follow me!

So a report spread among the followers of Jesus that this disciple would not die. But Jesus did not say he would not die; he said, 'If I want him to live until I come, what is that to you?'

He is the disciple who spoke of these things, the one who also wrote them down; and we know what he said is true."

"Nice one! That would be this book _right here_."

"Those words – to me – now mean something a bit different," said D'Aqs.

"When he says that this _Beloved Disciple_ will live until I come, it fits with the idea that Jesus joined Thomas in India, as if he planned it! And now, with the discovery of the Gospel of Thomas, it fits that this _Beloved Disciple_ did write it down!" Hellmantle was tripping over his words; he could hardly get them out of his mouth in time. " _Amazing_ man!"

"What do you think son?" D'Aqs, surprised, picked up his Bible as if reflex.

"It's tough to say Dad, but there is so much pointing to Jesus having a twin. For example, at the Last Supper Jesus says to his twelve disciples: 'This very night all of you will run away and leave me, for the scripture says, 'God will kill the shepherd, and the sheep of the flock will be scattered.' But after I am raised to life, I will go to Galilee ahead of you.'

"And then Jesus says: 'You have stayed with me all through my trials; and just as my Father has given me the right to rule, so I will give you the same right. You will eat and drink at my table in my Kingdom, and you will sit on thrones to rule over the twelve tribes of Israel.' So to me, this suggests that Jesus fulfilled the prophecy of the Messiah conscientiously because how would He know he's be in Galilee?"

"Good point son." He winked at his son when filling his glass with wine. He couldn't remember the last time his father had that look of pride on his face.

"Thanks Dad."

"If I didn't say it before, your beard suits you. Let it grow. I've never seen you with a beard."

"And it supports my _primary thrust theory_ ," said Hellmantle, not feeling the need to explain what he meant to his uncle, retreating further into his world of megalomania, the real world fading from importance.

"Yes Mantlepiece, it does" D'Aqs recognized the now-distant eyes of his cousin.

Hellmantle assumed the mantle and spoke thus:

"The _Blonde Acquitaine_ must act for mankind for the benefit of generations to come!"

"You go to Kashmir Valley and find the tombs and the scroll the _Blonde Acquitaine_ believes is buried where Jesus spent his last days," said Jack Grosseteste, his demeanor changed to the wise old man. "You prove it true and you will be remembered as _men of standing_." It was then the omma called for supper again. With eyes a glare, Hellmantle sat in the middle and poured the wine for all, not noticing the food was cold.

# Chapter 35

_Concerning the arrival in New Delhi and journey to Kashmir Valley_

## New Delhi, Haryana Province, India

## יִ

To Hellmantle the art of mulling was when thoughts could be played with in a mental sandbox, so during the five-hour plane journey to New Delhi he read through The Gospel of Thomas that his Uncle Jack had lent him. Amid exclamations and furious underlining with pencil, D'Aqs sat beside his cousin watching other passengers look at his cousin. After his illness from malaria, D'Aqs wanted a spiritual cleansing in the Ganges River as a symbolic spiritual rebirth. It was one thing he sought to do while in India that fell outside of the immediate mission at hand, like Hellmantle insisting they stop in Sagada to see Catharine. The Ganges was also a way to mark the beginning of perhaps a new life shared with the woman Asher, but he didn't let himself think that far ahead because too much hope unrealized could scar a man.

It had been tougher for Hellmantle to find more time off from the magazine. He had implored his editor to take four days' vacation that were coming to him in order to "complete this duty given to me by God." Reluctantly his boss granted him the week, which was also an opportunity for him to mention that the quality of Hellmantle's articles was suffering and that he needed to put more time and research into his pieces henceforth. He almost replied that letting the quality of his computer articles slip was a small price to pay for the greatness of his other work.

After clearing customs first, Hellmantle was talking to a taxi driver at a taxi booth to ensure they wouldn't fall victim to a quick swindle when D'Aqs found him in the crowd.

" _Good timing_ , man. Always a good sign at the beginning of an adventure," he said. "Snagging a pre-paid fare with a legitimate operator is important. This is Pradeep. Taxi driver, and a fair man." D'Aqs didn't bother scolding him for leaving him in the New Delhi airport without any idea where he had gone. But Hellmantle's decision was wise, especially at 2:30am Sunday morning. The ride into Delhi took an hour.

"There must be a fire or something," said D'Aqs. "I feel it in my lungs."

"No fire," said Pradeep. "Fog." Tough like a cop with bad skin but with a trusting face, there was too much of his personality displayed in Pradeep's posture to fear cunning or deceit.

"Thick. _Very_ thick."

In the taxi they moved along the barely lit road to the city. Being an employee of the official Indian Tourism Board, Pradeep was concerned about the security up north because of the Muslim insurgency.

"I'd like to calm you my friend," said Hellmantle. "I am a seasoned traveler. I want to rent a motorcycle to ride up to Srinagar in Kashmir to find the tomb of Jesus." Pradeep showed no surprise at hearing these words.

"You don't want to go to the _Taj Mahal?"_

"No, Srinagar."

"How long are you here?"

"Return flight to Hong Kong leaves Saturday night – seven days hence," D'Aqs answered.

"One week? Impossible. Kashmir is too far and security is tight. Many checkpoints."

"No motorcycle?" The disappointment in Hellmantle's voice tangible.

"No, Kashmir too unsafe. Very dangerous there."

"Is the road open?" asked Hellmantle. Pradeep looked at him in the back seat.

"Too many roadblocks for motorcycle. You take bus. Much safer."

"Forget safe, man! Bus? No way." Hellmantle's features rigid, slouched.

"No, it's not good. The checkpoints are a problem. You need a reservation up there, papers to get in. It would be easier to the bus."

"How long is it?"

"It's one day and you need to register to get into Kashmir."

"What is another way to get there?"

"Airplane," replied Pradeep.

"No motorcycles to rent?"

"You cannot rent motorcycles in Delhi. Delhi is a big city. Only in beach towns can you rent."

Desolate at night in comparison with the nightlights of Hong Kong, they passed a roundabout and a colonial fountain, and arrived at the Red Castle Hotel just off the barren Connaught Place city circle. It was also right beside the Indian tourist office.

"The bus leaves at 1:30 tomorrow." Hellmantle and D'Aqs looked at each other for a second, knowing that going to Srinagar on the next bus was the best course of action.

"We could waste a day in New Delhi discussing it," said D'Aqs.

"Srinagar is our immediate destiny!"

"I make a call and reserve bus and houseboat for you, okay?"

"I think I'll get a guesthouse there on my own, thanks," replied Hellmantle.

"No, the law is foreigners must book houseboat in Kashmir Valley."

"Why?"

"Kashmir never part of British India, so houseboats the only accommodation for visitors throughout the British Empire." So they planned to meet Pradeep the next day at noon for their tickets next door.

Ω

The sound of babies wailing woke Hellmantle up early, knowing from an ancient instinct that the crying was from hunger. Lying there for a while he listened to the cries of hunger from babies in the New Delhi night.

The heat crumbled soil underfoot and melted the will of man walking to the tourism building.

"It's as hot as a palm tree today." D'Aqs could tell from his swagger that Hellmantle was all set for the day's adventure.

Standing in line in the crowded office, Pradeep ushered them into his small office when he saw them. They paid for the tickets and tipped Pradeep for his efforts, but when they were waiting for a four-digit number for security, Hellmantle became claustrophobic so he stepped outside for a smoke. He walked down the road a little bit but was followed by Pradeep.

"Where you want to walk?" he asked, hesitant.

"Just down the street. Having a cigarette. Want one?" He kept walking under the mature trees lining the sidewalk until a violent rush of children and beggars charged him. Pradeep blocked the onrush by stopping them with his backside.

" _Get out of here!_ " he yelled in English. "Away!" They had found the fair beard and long Merovingian hair, some children an arm's length away watching Hellmantle smoke, hoping for some coins. Barefooted, wearing torn shirts and skinny as chopsticks, there were too many of them and his bills were too large, so he returned to the office feeling thankful for Pradeep's body check. He handed Pradeep a Marlborough.

"Be careful Rolland. Hunger makes people do mean things. The world is not full of benevolent Christians."

The bus station was an old British airplane hangar, with a British World War Two airplane up on wooden blocks by the four buses parked on the yard, an emaciated cow grazing beside them.

"A little piece of the colonial past," said Hellmantle.

Hellmantle assertively took the front two seats, the prime real estate for the journey to the Great Himalayan Range and a small consolation for not having the chance to motorcycle. He found Delhi strange because there were no twenty-story apartment buildings lining the streets like Hong Kong. Colonial India was what he wanted to see but instead he saw dirt and filth, squalor and overcrowding, and extraordinary poverty.

Stirred, Hellmantle spoke thus:

"I see a planet covered with desperate people from the savagery of hunger. I want to offer my goodwill and humanity but I cannot involve my heart because I must protect myself from bleeding! _To care too much can kill a man!_ To observe and see without feeling when seeing so much of the world as I do is best, otherwise I would be hurting myself, which defeats the purpose of living."

As if by divine providence, pieces had fallen into place and were now going north to Kashmir Valley nestled in the Himalayas to find a piece of land sketched on a papyrus map. So swiftly had Pradeep guided them that they both savored the familiar eager optimism at the commencement of a trip into the unknown.

The bus weaved aggressively past trucks that brought the countryside drinking water.

"Hey man, I'm Nathan." Immediately Hellmantle took a keen interest in discussing things with Nathan, especially after he was offered a hit from a bottle that he kept under his jacket. It passed back and forth between them while D'Aqs watched the countryside go by out the window. Thick lenses in Nathan's eyeglasses could not mask the intelligence radiating from the eyes, so Hellmantle felt compelled to share some of the more esoteric theories he had in religious history.

"Why do religious scholars studying the migration of Ten Lost Tribes of Israel believe that the Celts, the Scandinavians and the North American Indians all come from the Diaspora from 683BC? I believe there is a common footnote, but that's just me."

"I'm from Tel Aviv, so I know about the tribes of Israel. But I never hear they were the Indians before. Or Celts."

"The word _Celt_ with a 'C' or _Kelt_ with a 'K' comes from the Greek word " _Keltoi_ " which means _people who are different_. As you know, all those who were part of the Twelve Tribes of Israel were "different" from the Gentiles."

"That's right. All those who are not descendants of the Twelve Tribes of Israel are called Gentiles."

"You are from the lion of Judah."

"How do you know the lion is from Judah?"

"The House of Judah and the House of Israel; you are a descendent from the tribes of Judah and Levy."

"I'm a Levite actually, but it's not important."

"Not important!" D'Aqs ignored the outburst, now accepting of his cousin's imperfections. "You're the priestly tribe with the symbol on your shield being a breastplate."

"Breastplate, yes. That's right."

"Nathaniel, might I ask you a question about Israel?"

"Go ahead man." He passed his bottle to the Man from Normandy.

"As a non-Jew, that is not from the tribe of Levy or Judah, could I live in Israel? Would they let me in?" He scratched his thick red hair and shook his head.

"Nope. It's just for Jews. It's our homeland."

"Bloody right it is! And thank God you have Palestine back, despite the turbulence. Being an Israelite myself, from the tribe of Benjamin, I cannot make my home in your country. Is that correct?"

"That is correct sir."

"Then why is it called Israel? It should be called Judah, _non?_ " Nathan busted a gut.

"That's what my old man is always saying."

"It's ironic because we're related by blood."

"You could say that you and me are cousins through Jacob."

"Well then _say it man!_ " Nathan's eyes bulged. He took back the bottle thinking it was going to his head. "It's not until you get into the story of the Ten Lost Tribes of Israel that you start to understand where the Ten Lost Tribes _went_ , who they _are_ , and in fact if they are the chosen through a _New Covenant_ with God." Nathan was inclined to listen rather than look out the window so he had a question for the man from Normandy:

"So if you're into all this stuff, let me ask you if you think Jesus was married and had kids. 'Cause my old man thinks that." Hellmantle took the bottle from his hand without asking and took a big swig.

"Well, Jesus married Mary Magdalene and had three children. First of all, Mary was not a prostitute as the New Testament states."

"The New Testament is a bit dodgy he thinks."

" _Dodgy!_ Classic word. _Mucho fudging by those chaps in Rome_ , such as minimizing the role of women. They purposely belittled Mary Magdalene but the truth is that she was from a royal line. She even wrote a gospel that wasn't included in the canon. It was their second son named Josephus whose offspring sprang the Merovingian kings that ruled France for over six hundred years. Up to 1307 the Merovingian line found its rightful place as kings of France with documented lineage from the early times. They were also called the Long Haired Kings. That's why Napoleon had long hair, and chose the bee as his insignia, the symbol of the Merovingians."

"I've heard of the _Merovingians_."

"And it was through Jesus' brother Joseph of Arimathea, who moved to Britain and had a daughter named Anne that the royal Arimatheic line was introduced to the British Isles. She married a Scottish King - forget the chappy's name - that was the Fisher King line. Their symbol was the red lion. When these two lines intermarried Great Britain became the Israelite kingdom."

"That's amazing." Happy to have a keen ear, Hellmantle went on.

"You've heard of King Arthur?"

"Yeah, the guy in England."

"Yes, well he was a king who for the first time in history had both strains of the holy bloodline: that of the Fischer Kings and the Arimatheic line. That's why what happened to him was such a tragedy." Nathan stroked his chin and took the bait.

"What happened to him? Killed by Lancelot?"

"No! That dud Lancelot wrecked everything! He was sleeping with King Arthur's wife Guinevere. Bad form. _Very bad form_. The Round Table fell apart after that. King Arthur died when he sided with the Romans and fought a two-day battle against his son Brantooth and was killed. Terrible what happened. Tragic. A total shame. They were both killed."

"Brantooth? That's quite a name. Must mean brown tooth or something."

"As a side note, King Arthur used the Round Table so that all knights were equal. King Arthur wanted his men to have equal say in discussions and planning."

"Sounds democratic to me. But I have a question for you: Why Scotland? My old man said some Levites settled there. And they have the red rampant lion, right? What's so special about Scotland? Sure they wear kilts, which is sorta cool, and play bagpipes, but it's small and cold and far away from everything."

"Because Scotland remained outside of the yoke of Rome. It was a safe haven for the Templars who held Nazarene beliefs, Israelites and people who could play the bagpipes." His deadpan delivery was missed.

"The Templars were knights, weren't they? Or am I wrong?"

"You're _not_ wrong My Son! Hundreds of Knights Templars were burnt at the stake by the Roman Church, particularly their leader Jacques de Molay, but many escaped to Scotland because it was outside the power of Rome. It happened on Friday the thirteenth around 1310 I think, and that's why Friday the thirteenth is regarded as bad luck. But before thirteen was considered a number of fortune."

"Why was thirteen a number of fortune?"

"Well because for example, there were twelve disciples plus Jesus which is thirteen. And the twelve sons of Jacob were actually thirteen because Joseph had Ephraim and Manasseh, which added up to thirteen. There were thirteen colonies and thus the thirteen olive branches and arrows in the eagle's claws in the United States emblem of the eagle. There are thirteen months in a given year."

"And why were the Knights Templars burnt?'

"Because they became builders of churches capitalizing on the sacred geometry they discovered during the First Crusade, so in due course they became one of the first banks in Europe. The Pope owed them a heck of a lot of money, so to deal with the problem the Pope simply declared them heretics and had them excommunicated. Rome rounded up most of them and burned them alive. There's more to the story but that's it in a nutshell." They took swigs from the bottle but Nathan was now weary of Hellmantle's sanity.

"So I'm interested to know, do you honestly think the Indians in North America are part of the Ten Lost Tribes?"

"You obviously haven't read the Book of Mormon."

"No, should I?"

"It's the fasted growing religion in the world."

"I don't believe that."

"Believe what you want. But the teachings mesh well with the Nazarene message of Jesus. They believe two tribes of the Ten Lost Tribes of Israel sailed over from Palestine on 683BC during the Diaspora and the two tribes fought against each other, the Lammanites and the Nephites. The Lammanites won and killed off the Nephites, and they are today's Red Man."

"You can't be serious. The Native Americans?"

"Oui. Incidentally, when the first settlers arrived on the eastern shores it was discovered the some tribes called the Great Spirit _Jhvhvh_ , the original Hebrew name of God in the Old Testament. Now, how does one explain that?"

"It doesn't make sense."

"Sure it does when you think about it. There are many records of early pioneers that noted the Natives were taller, more robust and had virtually no congenital diseases. And they were red because they thought white skin was sickly so they rubbed vermillion dye in their skin. But of course the best and bravest are up in Valhalla from the engineered genocide led by that bastard General Sherman. _Nasty piece_ he was. The States went a bit overboard after Custer and his 216 men were massacred down to the last man in 1876."

"I was taught the Indians came from the Bering Strait."

"Hmm. Have you heard of _Kennewick Man?_ "

"No."

"It was a body discovered on the west coast I think in Washington State that was basically like you and me: European, or an Israelite. Found in a bog. Fair hair, European bone structure; the whole deal. And it was thousands of years old. The public doesn't know about it because it was discovered on Indian land and they won't give it to the government or anthropologists to study, but it's known and has almost single-handedly debunked the Bering Strait theory. The Red Man doesn't look _anything_ like the Chinese! Long noses, sharp cheekbones, highest IQ of any race, coordinated and athletic, and they had a great appreciation for the Spirit World. I'll tell you, if I had more time I'd love to study that aspect of Red Man history."

"How can that be?"

"The Phoenicians who existed way before 683BC had the sailing ability to go anywhere on the seas, so why couldn't a few tribes hop in a boat and sail across the Atlantic following the North Atlantic current?"

"Anything else you'd like to tell me from your bag of tricks?"

"You're Jewish so you likely know that long history of persecution in Russia?"

"I do. My grandmother was from there. Left because of all that."

"Do you know what the Bible calls the land of Russia?"

"No."

"The land of Magog. It's clear that there are no Israelites there and thus they have no prophecies of greatness."

"That's the best thing you've said all day!"

# Chapter 36

_In which the bus journey begins in earnest through the checkpoints_

to the foot of the Moghul Fort

## 200km north of New Delhi, Himachal Pradesh Province

## שׁ

Sunset fell and the bus stopped at one of the countless outdoor restaurants at the side of the road. Right beside the traffic, these restaurants consisted of a string of tables perpendicular to the road lined with chairs covered with a patio roof on legs of wood. The slow trucks with water, fuel and military supplies to the front lines at the India-Pakistani border pulled over to the side of the road, ate at these restaurants and slept in their own foldout beds in the front seat of their rigs. The kitchen, in the cement box at the back of the building, served the main artery to northwest India. There was an entire road culture that existed here in the mountains because of the war going on in Kashmir. These roadside patios were where these men ate their meals and drank their tea who lived in their trucks to stay warm and to earn a living.

Back on the road the bus drove all night until it reached the Kashmir border. The border guards came onto the bus and looked in bags and then proceeded to untie all the carefully tied up large pieces of luggage on top of the bus. They turned over someone's couch but didn't find any signs of foul play and then left it there for the bus driver to pick up and repack. One gentleman across the aisle had to pay duty on a new CD player.

"I hadn't realized it is a separate entity within India, I mean to _this_ degree," said Hellmantle, shaking his head and the tight security.

"Perhaps its independence as a state reflects the value of its hidden treasures?" Nathan had a mystery to him. Mossad maybe, thought Hellmantle.

"Well it's from the border Britain imposed after they gave India independence. They created Pakistan for all the Muslims in British India and India for the Hindus but for some reason made Kashmir Valley part of India when it was about 85 percent Muslim. Countless millions have been killed since 1965 because of that. And it's one of the world's flashpoints. Nuclear War is a definite possibility between Pakistan and India, who both have the big exploding device. But our Abrahamic family originally came from the Indus Valley thus we speak an Indo-European language. Though it must be said that Abraham was born in Sur in modern-day Iraq."

"No!"

"Seriously. Look it up."

"Anything else?"

"Well, while we're at it, the Quran was written because Rome fudged the message of Jesus the prophet. It is clearly stated that it is the untainted message from the same Hebraic God and is the last. Muhammad was a direct descendant of Isaac's brother Ishmael so it's all within Abraham's chosen bloodline. Talks about Moses and Jesus and Muhammad as all prophets of the same God. My guess is Jesus' original message would have been the same or pretty darn similar to what's in the Quran."

"Strange to hear you saying that."

"Why?"

" _Jihad_ and the killings and whatnot. Not very _holy_ if you ask me."

" _Bad press_. What about all the compassionate and friendly Muslims? The Koran is a beautiful book. You must read it. The _Jihad_ discussed in the mainstream media is _hermeneutical extremism_. It doesn't mean to kill those who are not yet enlightened. One passage says: 'Let there be no force or compulsion in religion: Surely- Truth stands out clear from error. Whoever rejects evil and believes in God has held the most trustworthy hand-hold that never breaks.'" Nathan shook his head as if a fly was buzzing around inside it.

"What?"

"I'm surprised you're quoting the Quran, that's all."

"Keep an open mind Nathaniel and see all the references to Moses and Jesus and the chosen family. They urge the Israelites to come back into the fold, saying they understand why we went askew."

"The House of Israel did but not us." D'Aqs nudged him. Only when he looked in his eyes did he understand why.

"But back to Kashmir, it really is the cradle of civilization if you omit Sumer for a moment. The Indus Valley is the breadbasket of the Indo-European family of languages, which of course includes English and French and Spanish and Hebrew, _etcetera_. But I can't stop lamenting at the loss of opportunity of not motorcycling this geography. Motorcycling in the Himalayas would be _very_ groovy."

"It would be great riding if there weren't any checkpoints," said D'Aqs. "But Pradeep was right. There's _no_ way we could've ridden our bikes up here. Too many guns."

"Yes, there are many fortified lines to cross."

It was cold when they stood outside the bus at a checkpoint. Just behind it was an old castle-fort built of rectangular bricks with a big turret on either side of the entrance. A steel fence protected the narrow passage to the front gate. It was a mysterious old relic.

"It's definitely European built," said Nathan. D'Aqs could smell his breath from five feet away.

"It looks like a Crusader castle," said Hellmantle. "Look at the lines. Look how the stones are cut. It employs sacred geometry that was discovered in 1106 in Jerusalem."

"There's no way to get in. They're using it." Nathan spoke calmly as D'Aqs shivered in three layers of shirts. Nathan was only wearing a yellow T-shirt and shorts. "I've seen one like that in Tel Aviv."

"Now we begin to climb," said a bearded Indian man who was standing among them.

"How much longer from here?" asked Nathan. "Only two or three hours you think?"

"From the India-Kashmir border? No, _more_. It's four-thirty in the morning and we will be here for an hour." He rubbed his black-bearded chin. "Nine," he said, after thinking. The man with the beard smiled. He was a big man.

"Nine hours!" Nathan was feeling the liquor. "No way. Two." The Indian only smiled at him.

"The road is slow. First time in Kashmir?" D'Aqs and Nathan nodded but Hellmantle kept that card against his chest.

"The journey is 22 hours," said Hellmantle. "I calculate it should be another five hours plus this hour at the border crossing, perhaps six hours."

"Who told you it was 22 hours?" said the Indian. "With the military checkpoints it will be longer." Hearing this, Nathan raised his arms and stretched out his legs all in the same motion.

"The mountains are too big. I should have flown!"

Ω

After departing from the castle and guards, they proceeded through a maze of roads and turns and roundabouts for the next fifty miles. Just as the Indian man had said, they began to climb. With each few hours they moved north, the mountains evolved in form and vegetation, from the palm trees to tall pines that stood proud like an army of green-clad soldiers. Dwarfed by massive ridges of rock they followed a river coming from the north, its current swift, monkeys at the roadside in clusters. The military was all over the countryside after the border crossing, with jeeps and sandbagged pillboxes on strategic mountain points. The troops were decentralized by working in twos covering a vast stretch of territory in the beginnings of the valley of Kashmir. Camouflaged and covering countless little stone lookouts were small stone pilings that used the natural jutting shape of the rock to its advantage.

"Without a clear system of road signs and with all the nameless forks in the road, navigation on a motorcycle would have been a crapshoot," Hellmantle finally conceded. After crossing the border he realized that there was no way on earth they could have motorcycled up to Srinagar and back in seven days.

"True."

"Preferable vehicle of choice may still be the horse."

Like the monkeys perched on a precipice that fell away like a wall, they could look down from miles above. As they inched closer to Srinagar Hellmantle finally had to ask the question burning in his head:

"How on earth did Thomas and Jesus trek this far, and over this terrain?" D'Aqs was quiet. "Without the British-built bridges and tunnels, how could they journey 2000 years ago from Jerusalem to Srinagar?" The moonlight shined on the mountainsides and kept D'Aqs awake through the night.

# Chapter 37

_In which Srinagar is reached and how the houseboat is exactly the same_

it was a hundred years ago

## Kashmir Valley, Jammu & Kashmir Province

## שׁ

It was about 7:30 in the morning when they reached the tunnel with a sign that read:

HEAVEN IN PARADISE

Heavily guarded, uniformed guards held machine guns pointed directly at the oncoming vehicles. Passengers were asked to step out of the vehicle so the guards could bomb-sweep the bus and cargo, but this time the foreigners were supposed to sign in with their passports. With the sun out and after finishing a reasonable amount of mixed whiskey from his water bottle, Nathan was excited about finally reaching the valley.

"Look," he said, pointing at a door at the wooden shack:

Foreigners Register Here

There were more foreigners than just the three of them. There was a guy Hellmantle and D'Aqs had started to call _Pepper_ from Sweden and his husky Korean wife who was fluent in Swedish, and a guy from Afghanistan. They all had to show their passports and fill out a form. Nathan, being Israeli, and being in a place where over 85 percent of the population was Muslim, was questioned by the guards. A few minutes later he emerged from the sandbagged station and climbed aboard the bus, now quite sullen.

Rich in beauty was the valley that spread before them at the end of the tunnel. It was where the magic of Kashmir began. Breathless in size and scale, the posture of rock was so robust it made their mouths drop open. Trees and sectioned fields exposed rich soil spread outwards to a horizon that stood 5000 feet above sea level. The Himalayas had arrived.

"Wealthy in volume" mumbled Hellmantle, unusually understated. The sheer audacity of the mountains shocked him. As the natural charms of Kashmir lured Hellmantle into an instant love for the country, so did another thing occur. He looked closer at the people passing by. What he saw stuck him deep down to his sense of who he was. He kept looking into an Indian face that had a facial architecture that was similar or the same as his. Looking straight into their faces, he recognized his own relation to the root. Hellmantle felt a deep sense of identity with India as if it truly was the land of his ancestors. He had not foreseen how similar in bone structure the Indian peoples were to the Norman Anglo-Saxon architecture. It was a homecoming; a return to an ancient homeland after millennia that once flourished before the United Kingdom and America were even ideas. He said to D'Aqs:

"This is the face of the people of the Indus River Valley, a people that stretched north into the mountains north of Srinagar and remnants of the Ten Lost Tribes of Israel."

"I see what you're getting at I think. They have the same face."

"Being mistaken is the essence of the traveler's tale, as a writer once wrote." There was a grin on Hellmantle's face.

Passing through the towns along the main road were summerhouses built in the unique Indian architecture tradition. Everything looked old: merchant houses, balconied hotels and two-story shops with wooden shutters still intact. The trees dominated the ride along the wide valley floor where yellow leaves still clung in the February chill. Hellmantle knew they had reached Srinagar when he saw the massive 16th-century fortress on top the big hill in the middle of the valley floor. It was a steep hill with a tabletop surface surrounded by huge stonewalls and cornered turrets. The stone fortress overlooked the Srinagar skyline.

"What-"

"Moghul. Roughly 16th century."

The bus let them off some miles from the fort but there was a man there holding a white envelope with the following name written on it:

HELL MANTLE

Recalling Pradeep explicitly insisted Hellmantle to ask the man for the four-digit reservation number because he said: "only me and you and him know the number."

"Do you know my reservation number?" Hellmantle asked the Indian man with the envelope in his hand.

"Yes sir. You are 5422." Sure enough he knew the four-digit number. Hellmantle and D'Aqs both gave him a smile and introduced themselves.

"I am Ramazon," said the lean-faced Indian man.

So Hellmantle got into the man's motorcycle sidecar and D'Aqs doubled on the back of the seat, the three of them sped down the road. Quick and zealous was his horn-beeping hand – every pass was honored with a short beep from the steering wheel and greeted with a kindly wave of the hand from the driver. To Hellmantle, who was forever interested in road etiquette among motorcyclists around the world, noted that the driver being passed also let his foot off the accelerator. This constant action was done throughout the road trip. Much worthy of note to Hellmantle was that he didn't witness even one incident of rudeness or bad etiquette on the country roads between vehicles. Kashmir was a place of friendliness and brotherhood, where people's riding technique was in harmony with Nature.

Entering the town of Srinagar, they drove around the great fortress that stood atop the huge ridge surrounded by ancient buildings at its feet that made up Srinagar. Hellmantle took note that there were many people on bicycles.

At six o'clock prayers to Allah filled the valley with divine song amid the eagles soaring to their nesting peaks in the tall trees that looked like dwarfs against the sheer rock of the mountains all around them. The orange hue of the setting sun turned to yellowed gray just beyond the western rim. Muslims broadcast their prayers over loudspeakers from the minarets in the mosque across the water. The audio was old and the sounds crackled as an early fog settled over the great Mogul fort on the top of the hill.

"Who built that fort up there?" Hellmantle asked Ramazon as they reached their houseboat. "Moghuls?"

"Yes, sir. The same people who built the Taj Mahal."

"Can we see it?"

"It's closed to public because the Indian army uses it."

The boathouse was fashioned in the British colonial style with carved wood fascia, rugs and an open deck in the stern. The fully functional houseboat was no doubt host to some of its own British subjects during the reign of the East India Tea Company. In fact for Hellmantle, with its long narrow corridor with its spacious bedroom, dining room and smoking room with adjourning riverside sun deck, it was much more comfortable than a hotel room. The deck was there for the old stick-propelled wooden boats that still traveled the river. The lush valley where steep mountains lined the horizon created an overpowering sense of openness under an untrammeled sun. Neither smog nor clouds marred the heavens 6000 feet above sea level. The sounds of automobiles and industry were replaced with thousands of birds, screams of happy children at play and the distant knock of a carpenter. It was here where first St. Thomas and then Jesus the Nazarene lived and finished out their lives. They knew this river and this lake.

The houseboat – or boathouse as Hellmantle liked to call it – is just like a first-class car on a train. There is a long corridor that joins a master bedroom and then a second room (which was vacant) and the kitchen and the main entrance, and the dining room with the old carved wood chairs and ceiling fascia and rich colored rugs, and finally the smoking room – or drawing room as Ramazon had introduced it – with a desk and couches in the corners with flowing drapes over the lavish windows. This final room opened onto the deck where one could sit out under a canopy from the rain but also perfectly facing the west unobstructed by anything. In fact he hadn't seen a high-rise building since he left Delhi. Underneath the dozens of rugs that lined the boat were the moaning squeals underfoot from water-warped wood. But it did nothing to take away from its splendor. It was a step back to the 1920s with the view and surrounding absolutely unaltered since not only the 1920s but from the time of Jesus and Thomas journeyed here from the Holy Land. The other side of the river was just as it had been back then.

After over 26 hours on the road, he was happy to have his own place on the water with no neighbors and all in the luxury of a time period that, for all intents and purposes still existed in Kashmir. He promptly unpacked and then put his feet up on the sun deck and had a smoke and a pot of Kashmiri tea. His senses felt as if they were coming out after a long period of being in a bent or oppressed position, so there was a warm relaxing feeling that flooded out of him. Muscles twitched and joints fought off aches as he wondered if it was here, 6000 feet above ground zero where Jesus and Thomas lived their last days.

When the sun went down Hellmantle quickly felt five kilometers from the ocean's shores and proceeded to put on a wool poncho that Ramazon had brought in for him. He had told him he wanted to wear what Kashmiris wear when they trek in the mountains. It fit perfectly and brought him the warm inner hearth that one sought in cold climes.

# Chapter 38

_In which Hellmantle reach their houseboat on the lake below the fort_

and beside the mosque

## Srinagar, Kashmir Valley, Jammu & Kashmir Province

## שׁ

After over 26 hours on the road, Hellmantle was happy to have a place on the water with no neighbors. Ramazon had given them the best one since there were no other travelers there. The boat was just like a first-class car on a train. There was a long corridor that joined a master bedroom and then a second room and the kitchen beside the main entrance, and the dining room with the old carved ceiling fascia, wooden chairs and rich colored rugs. The smoking room, with a desk and couches in the corners with flowing drapes over lavish windows, opened onto the deck where Hellmantle and D'Aqs sat out under a canopy from the rain. It face west unobstructed by anything. Underneath the dozens of rugs in the houseboat, the moaning squeals could be heard underfoot from water-warped wood. But it did nothing to take away from its splendor. The other side of the river was just as it had been 2000 years ago except for the mosque. The houseboat was a step back a hundred years but the view unaltered since the time of Jesus and Thomas journeyed here from the Holy Land.

They unpacked and then put their feet up on the deck and drank a pot of Kashmiri tea. Hellmantle's senses thawed from being in a bent and oppressed position on the bus so there was a warm relaxing feeling that flooded him when he finally stretched out and relaxed. Muscles twitched and joints fought off aches as he wondered if this was really the place where Jesus and Thomas lived their last days.

"Perhaps Jesus traveled the known world and thought Srinagar was what He thought heaven on earth is like? And He chose to end his last years here on the lakeside in the Vale de Kashmir."

Ramazon appeared with the tea ready. Hellmantle took it upon himself to ask Ramazon about picking up some betel nut. He asked him if he could find some.

"Betel nut? What is that?" Hellmantle had a plan B.

"Is hashish legal here?"

"Hashish is very good, no problem. Very popular here."

"Okay, I will buy it and give you a big tip," he said to Ramazon.

"I have a friend. How much?"

"Enough for seven days for two heavy smokers."

"I-." Hellmantle raised his hand in protest.

"Say, ten days' worth, two big white guys, regular smokers of balsam for aches and pains. Big tip." Ramazon nodded.

"No problem."

Over tea Hellmantle decided to bring up the legend of Thomas and Jesus with Ramazon, who was serving them.

"So I recently read in a history book that there is the tomb of Jesus and the tomb of Saint Thomas located around here," he said, probing. "Have you heard of it?" Hellmantle and D'Aqs casually sipped the tea, which was full of fruity bouquet.

"Ah, I don't know such as these names." Ramazon smiled and nodded back. "But there is a Christian tomb in _Conyar_ in the old city." Ramazon's bloodshot eyes sparkled beside the gas-lit light resting on the mantelpiece.

"My friend is Christian. He talk to you." He left them to their tea.

"You know it's March 1st in three days. And March 1st is the day that the prophecy should be fulfilled, according to the Blonde Acquitaine prophecy."

"I thought his birthday was Christmas," said D'Aqs, jousting with him.

"As is clear during the Council of Nicaea in 325AD, many of the beliefs from _Sol Invictus_ were incorporated into the body of Christian thought."

"The Sun God cult. I'm aware of this.""

"This _merging_ created a hybrid religion of new Christian thought and the _Sol Invictus_ beliefs. There are many examples scholars have identified, such as the changing of the Sabbath from Saturday to Sunday, and making Jesus' birthday on December 25th rather than its proper date of March 1st. By the mid fourth century the machinery was pretty much in place for Nazarene thought to be replaced by this new religion, that was a composite of new thinking and old established thought. It helped its initial survival chances, and no doubt it was a stroke of genius by Constantine to introduce a new religion to Rome. But many knew that as he lay on his deathbed it was the makings of a deathblow to adherents of Jesus' real message. Thus the _Desposyni_ became dispossessed."

"So we must find the buried scrolls with His original thought and give it to the world."

"Couldn't have said it better myself." With that being settled, and having finished their tea, Ramazon returned with his friend Abid, who brought in his _Geiger_. It was a large water pipe, with a large rounded bowl and long metal tube coming out for the smoker to puff. Their faithful Muslim friend had even brought them a few snub-nosed bottles of beer, besides a tremendous chunk of very hard blonde hashish. They must have been past their past due dates but they tasted just fine. Ramazon bit off a chunk of hashish and packed the _Geiger_. Then he pulled out a wooden match, struck the flame and placed it horizontally across the bowl face while he inhaled.

"I used to smoke but I don't much anymore," he said, exhaling as he spoke. He pushed the long pipe to Hellmantle so he inhaled in the same fashion as Ramazon. For D'Aqs, it wasn't the first time he had been offered an indigenous narcotic from a local in a new part of the world. He politely followed local custom.

Passing it back to Ramazon, D'Aqs could see that he was a good man and a smart man and a man of grace. Smoking with a native Kashmiri was an enjoyable affair. He told us that he grew up in the mountains where his brother and sister still live, a place they could visit on horseback. He told the cousins they had to see a sunrise from the mountain peak in Kashmir. He was so serious when he said it that Hellmantle promised himself he would make a sincere effort to see one.

With the sun down over the river, D'Aqs shivered in the night breeze. Ramazon got up and returned with two wool ponchos.

"May be a good idea," said Hellmantle. "Wearing what Kashmiris wear when trekking in the mountains may prevent unwanted inquiries."

"Then we can be sure we'll be warm." The gray wool poncho fit perfectly and immediately made them both warm.

"Easy to forget we're so high up right here," said D'Aqs, mellowed and relaxed.

"It's the garment that will enable me nurture my inner hearth in the cold climes of the highest mountains in the world."

Abid, who had not said much, finally spoke thus:

"I am Christian."

"Yes, we are too," said Hellmantle.

"You ask about St Thomas?"

"Yes."

"Saint Thomas made Christian communities here. He baptized the three kings and made them the first bishops."

"Here in Srinagar?"

"I believe so. The King back then, Gondophorus, ordered Thomas to build a magnificent palace. But when the king was away, Thomas spent the money on the poor." He looked at Ramazon and then at Hellmantle.

"St Thomas told King Gondophorus that his palace was already built and waiting in heaven. So Thomas was thrown in prison. But the King had a vision, which changed his mind. He saw Thomas who told him that his treasure awaited him in the afterlife. After that the pagan King was baptized and became a Christian."

"Do you know where all this happened?"

"I know where _Sao Thome_ tomb is. Yes."

"Do you have any bicycles we can borrow?"

"Yes," replied Ramazon. "We have some bicycles to lend you."

# Chapter 39

_In which Hellmantle sets out for the Tomb of Thome_

and his brother Joshua beside him

## שׁ

Hellmantle could hardly sleep because of such keen anticipation of biking through Srinagar. Or it could have been the thought he was having from the _Geiger_. After breakfast and tea, Ramazon, Hellmantle and D'Aqs set out to _Canyar_ on bicycles. Cycling past the University of Kashmir with the awesome site of mountains so steep that they looked like enormous rock walls that were obstructions for passing satellites. Ramazon led the way as they rode to the old part of Srinagar. Down an old street with brick buildings and rustic wood shutters on the windows, the three of them stopped where there was a small white building with green trim. It stood surrounded by a little green iron fence. There was a sign in Arabic and Indian. The sign was sheltered by a sprawling old tree.

"What does it say?" asked Hellmantle.

"The sign says 'it was here where Jesus the Nazarene the Prophet lies buried along with His disciple Jude Thomas,'" Ramadan said.

"Interesting it is 'the Nazarene' and not 'of Nazareth,'" Hellmantle said to his cousin. "Nazareth didn't even exist at the time Jesus lived. It came into being over a hundred years _after_ His death."

"Another fallacy."

"Yes." Hellmantle opened the little gate and walked to a small open doorway where an old lady sat with a young boy beside her. He nodded at them when they looked at him and then to D'Aqs. Hellmantle read the message and remove his shoes. Walking inside Hellmantle and D'Aqs saw why the Muslims had made it into a shrine. There were half a dozen women wearing veils in deep prayer at one end of the tomb. And the tomb itself was odd: there were two small wooden coffins about six feet by one-and-a-half feet each that laid at either end under a long coffin-shaped canopy. The two coffins were protected from hand contact by a wood and glass case built over the original grave.

One can see that it was still the original site because there were three separate stones that surrounded the two draped boxes. One stone was old clay mold of where Jesus left his footprint. It was at the west end where the bones of Jesus rested in the small wooden box draped over with a green cloth. It was conspicuously bigger than Thomas's box of bones. The coffin of Saint Thomas was covered in a gold-colored fabric. It was here where there was a remarkable part of the site. Right beside the coffin of Thomas was a curved stone the size of a tombstone that was a sculpture of Thomas or Jesus as an old man.

Hellmantle knelt down closer to the face.

"It looks like Jesus," he said. The moustache dominated the landscape of the sculpture's face, and his head had been cut according to how he wore his hair: long and parted in the middle. In this gravestone the top of the hair was triangular with his middle part being the apex. The eyebrows were raised seriously and the cheekbones were wide. The cheeks were hollowed and a flowing beard that met the ground at the base of the tombstone encircled the face. The feature of greatest interest for Hellmantle was the nose: it was round so that Jesus as an old man resembled Santa Claus. The grave was weathered from the elements but its features could still be discerned. The mouth was open as if it was a spot for people to leave messages or prayers.

"See how the black stone has weathered the centuries of heat and cold?" he said to D'Aqs.

"My God, it's true," was all D'Aqs could say.

The gravestone sculpture of the head of Jesus stood about three feet high with the moustache reaching almost a foot in length. It flowed right into the earth. To D'Aqs, the sculpture depicted what he thought a Druid would look like. But of all images of Christ, this one in front of him must be considered one of the only real representations of the man history knew as Jesus Christ.

"And He reached the ripe old age of his mid-eighties and spent the last years of His life with His identical twin brother in such a beautiful land," D'Aqs whispered.

There was a third stone right beside the stone face of Jesus, but it was only a flat area with nothing on it. Looking at it, Hellmantle couldn't figure out what it was. Considering Jesus was regarded as a prophet and messenger of God, just as Mohammad was for Islam, the Muslims prayed facing the East when they prayed at Jesus' tomb. The small canopy that covered the aboveground coffins and stones was draped over with a purple fabric rich in hue, which had the first three points written out in Arabic. Hellmantle copied the Arabic down best to his ability into his journal.

Drawn back to the face of Jesus, he crouched beside it, looking deeply into the weathered eyes that stuck out only enough to discern the top part of His eyebrows. The stone depiction of His face showed contentment common to wisdom and inner knowledge. Where His forehead met His hair, there was a little triangle that looks like a mini temple. The way the stone had been cut made the bearded archetype stand out in its own innate power. The cheekbones on the front of His face and His triangular shaped middle part in His hair gave Him a distinct angular form.

Feeling a bit wobbly-legged, they both eventually left the tomb and, with Ramazon, walked stunned through the old streets of Srinagar. Looking back over his shoulder, Hellmantle stopped, lights a smoke and said:

"It looks like this small cement building was built specifically to protect and preserve these three stone markers. It housed Jesus' and Thomas' bones. It is strange that the relics of two great men who have had such a profound impact on the development of the Western thought would be here under this modest roof somewhere Northwest India. How many people walking down the street are aware of the remains of two fathers of a major new movement within the tradition of the Old Testament cannon and religious history as a whole. How can anyone tell what lies inside these in-descript walls?"

"People in Kashmir believe Jesus flies around in the air," said Ramazon. "So if this is true then He has already found me. And He had got inside me. He is in my heart and mind."

"And spirit." Hellmantle nodded at his trusted guide as they mounted their bicycles and rode away from the tombs of Jesus and Thomas.

Ω

Ramazon led them to the local market and to an old mosque built over 1100 years ago, but Hellmantle's thoughts were on that face with the hollow cheeks and huge curving moustache and the triangular head. A power emitted from the sculpture and its magic still hung in the air around him and in his mind's eye.

"The Kashmir apple tastes like a candy apple," Hellmantle said at the market, "And if India is a bouquet, then Kashmir is a rose in it."

D'Aqs bought a sweater in the local market, but Hellmantle was despondent. He finally spoke thus:

"The two brothers chose to live where Alexander the Great chose to turn around and end his campaign in the East. Only by seeing this place can that have meaning. Truly amazing the twins were together at death and entry into the afterlife."

After the bike ride back to the houseboat, the cousins both flaked out on the deck, smoked pipes and thought of the face of Jesus.

"Has Ramazon figured out what the Arabic says on the stone yet?" Hellmantle impatient for answers.

"Abid should know."

"I'm only schooled to use the _Atbash Cipher_. I don't know this Arabic. If we find scrolls I should be able to apply the cipher to breaking the code on the titles of each scroll." D'Aqs doubted Hellmantle's claim but said nothing. If the need arose then he could show his specialized knowledge.

Abid arrived with his _Geiger_ and they settled down in the smoking room.

"The Arabic on the stone says ' _Monastery of the Fish_ ,'" he said flatly.

"Monastery!" Hellmantle stood up and walked to the mantelpiece.

"Fish? Are you sure it says that?" D'Aqs disappointed.

"You must know where _that_ comes from," Hellmantle incredulous.

"What? From what He said about teaching a man how to fish is better than giving a man a fish?" Hellmantle thought D'Aqs had become physically robust at the cost of mental atrophy.

"The symbol of the early Christians was not a cross; _it was a fish_."

"Oh. Yes, I think I knew that."

"Where is it?"

"It is north of here," said Abid. "I asked a friend who knows these things. The Monastery of the Holy Light is maybe two days along the _Line of Control_."

"Two days!" Hellmantle opened his maps that showed in detail the grade of the terrain along the disputed border with Pakistan.

"How do we get there to the Monastery of Holy Light?" asked D'Aqs.

"Horseback."

"Horseback! Of course! _Good call_." Hellmantle chipper.

"I know where to get a horse. It's an old pilgrims trail. It is very old," said Abid.

"We can put it on the bill?" Hellmantle asked. He nodded in agreement.

"I take you. I get my brother to run this place."

"Great, we can leave in the morning."

# Chapter 40

_Which relates to the agreeable history of the journey north_

to the monastery on horseback

## 150km north of Srinagar, Line of Control, Great Himalayan Range

## שׁ

The Himalayan Range tickled the roof of the mouth of earth in a jagged maze of rock, peaks unforgiving, white and gray and tanned brown, treeless and sharp, angry and peaceful, untouchable and respected. Life atop the farthest reaches of land, pretty to look at but tough to conquer, Kashmir Valley on a horse was a world unto itself. Like iced teeth of rock, it stood in defiance of gravity in a never-ending grab at the empyrean. Close by was K2 that was marginally higher than the vast sea of white pinnacles surrounding it in scale of size that dwarfed reality.

Leaving _Sonamburg_ there was another checkpoint where the lieutenants and higher ups were hanging around and checking to see if the checkers checked well enough to pass as checking. Hellmantle and D'Aqs assumed the gait of a worn out trekker coming back after a religious pilgrimage. When dealing with soldiers at checkpoints, the cousins presented a neutral posture until spoken to, indicating in the subtlest of ways that they were not a threat and that the Indian civil servant had the upper hand. It was conveyed only in the minutest of fashion, whether it was the movement of an upper lip or a gesture such as removing sunglasses when not asked to, or bowing the head slightly in a submissive posture. But Hellmantle only assumed that posture for a moment, because then the soldier had an open door to abuse his power and apply arbitrary fining on the spot. Hellmantle, seeing it for what it was, thought: _the act of conveying respect and backbone puts morality on the table._

To some they were a sight that brought a sincere smile to guards' faces, not only because they were both wearing wool ponchos, which, with their long beards, reminded the soldiers why they were fighting: to make the mountains safe for their families and for the trekkers around the world to get tourism back on track. But they were also potential threats, military Special Forces in disguise spying and gathering data on the skirmish stalemate between the two countries. Or possibly religious scholars on mission to find and remove a relic said to be buried somewhere in the vastness of the Himalayan range.

Abid, Hellmantle and D'Aqs rode ten kilometers on horses to a tabletop along a ridge in the mountains roughly 14000 vertical feet, according to Abid's calculations.

"What the history textbooks or even maps fail to explicate," said Hellmantle "is how the terrain causes gravity to act stronger here. Each given mile is a fuller distance than across flatlands. Sure the loose rocks and steep climbs are understood to be part of what is involved in crossing mountain ranges, but the heavy gravity - due to the sheer _vertical posture_ of the Himalayas and the thinness of the air - create a uneven playing field when measuring on a map." Moments of struggle to fill lungs with enough air became more acute the farther they ascended. It slowed down the engine of the mind and caused sloppy navigation, and with sloppy navigation came injury. For Hellmantle, the horseback was slow but compared to walking it was welcomed.

"You know what I _didn't_ expect?"

"No, what's that Mister Adventurer?"

"To feel tipsy so high up. Thin air aside, I'm relieved to be up here at the top, fully aware of the precipice on either side. I have forgotten to tell you of my fear of heights. I thought I could contain my fear by ignoring it while I balanced on top of a thin windy ridge where any horizontal movement caused me to flirt with a fatal tumble." Hellmantle paused, looking at the steep grades all around him. "Ironically, the view is so stunning and powerful that it's enough to cause me to lose my balance."

"I am out of breath, too." He looked at D'Aqs.

"Thought your lungs would be pink as a raw steak."

"We're not talking about a hundred or two hundred feet here," taking more breaths. "We're talking about being at 14,000 feet above sea level."

"Well the twins Joshua and Jude must have had pink lungs too so if you're panting over there then it's likely they were laboring _aussi._ "

"Right. You smoke too much. Or it's time to move back to Canada and take advantage of the fresh air and fresh water. China's polluted. And Hong Kong is getting worse. All the industrial clouds and crappy water from the factories in Shenzhen are ending up there. It's a bad situation that will only become worse."

"Yes, you're right. I may want to relocate before my lungs become sullied. I mean through the environment. Abuse is rampant because of the lack of environmental laws." This succeeded in taking his mind away from his fear of heights. Once clear of the mountaintop, the mighty sun took over the eastern sky drenching the western slope where they sat. It was all light. Everywhere was the richness of warming sunlight, at once blinding and soothing.

"Why would they have a monastery so remote?"

"Protection from harassment. And this light must have had something to do with it. With the iced peaks the stronger sun reflects more. _So close to God!_ "

"Joshua must have really loved his twin Jude. Must be a twin thing."

"They let the horses do all the work."

"They had horses and we have had horses and iron horses."

"Coming here was smart because no one would make this much effort to find them after he faked His death. Oh wait! There's something I want to read you that I think is rather pungent with meaning. Can you throw me your Bible?" D'Aqs wondered why the man didn't have his own Book. "Don't be shy. _Throw it_." Not used to riding a horse and misjudging the distance, he threw the Book too short, which caused the Man from Normandy to lean far reaching with extended arm, hand open ready to clasp, saddle slipping from the shift in weight. He knew he was going to miss it so he kicked out his right leg and hugged the horse as he slid down on its side and gained another two feet of reach to make a fingertip catch.

Once back postured and balanced Hellmantle spoke thus:

"One must always respect Scriptures in all manners! If that Good Book had fallen to the rocky ground I would have seen it as an act of disrespect for God. _That_ was an act of faith. Dangling by a thread, the horse my rock. How many peoples would that effort to prevent the Word of God from smashing and splaying pages and tearing the _fabric of the vehicle_."

D'Aqs, mouth agape, found his rhythm on the horse, swaying his hips and holding the reigns like his cousin, considered Hellmantle's words, taking note that when he had first traveled with him he would not have considered such hyperbole. He knew without a doubt no man could have physically stretched more than what he had just witnessed. Even Ramazon behind them made a guffaw. If he had fallen on the sharp rock, injury and the act of disrespect to God, and it would have been his sin, not Hellmantle's.

"Your catch of the Scriptures was like Abraham proving his faith to God by killing Isaac; both were extreme acts showing faith; both proved complete belief in God." Ramazon nodded.

"Thank you," Hellmantle said after a while.

"Well done Mantlepiece."

Then finding the page he was after Hellmantle spoke thus:

"According to the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus was struck on the head with a stick by one of the Roman soldiers in the governor's palace, when he was wearing a purple robe. They said to Him: 'You were going to tear down the Temple and build it back up in three days! Save yourself if you are God's Son. Come on down from the cross!'"

Hellmantle raised the reigns in his hand.

"Then Jesus says: 'These are the very things I told you about while I was still with you: everything written about me in the Law of Moses, the writings of the prophets, and the Psalms had to come true. That is what is written: the Messiah must suffer and must rise from death three days later, and in his name the message about repentance and the forgiveness of sins must be preached to all nations, beginning in Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things. And I myself will send upon you what my Father has promised. But you must wait in the city until the power from above comes down upon you.'"

Only the sound on hooves in the silence.

"On the Sunday when Jesus sees his disciples in Galilee, it says: 'One of the twelve disciples, Thomas (called the Twin), was not with them when Jesus came. So the other disciples told him, 'We have seen the Lord.' Thomas said to them, 'Unless I see the scars of the nails in his hands and put my finger on those scars and my hand in his side, I will not believe.' A week later the disciples were together again indoors, and Thomas was with them. The doors were locked, but Jesus came and stood among them and said, 'Peace be with you.' Then he said to Thomas, 'Put your finger here, and look at my hands; then reach out your hand and put it in my side. Stop your doubting, and believe!'"

D'Aqs' horse snorted.

"And that's exactly what He did," said D'Aqs pensively. "He drank the bitter potion and was taken down from the cross the next morning at sunrise."

"Spirits don't have bloody holes in their hands."

D'Aqs knew his reading of the New Testament would always be different now. A passage like that he could only read and understand in a wider light.

"And He says it to Doubting Thomas. I wonder if he knew what Simon the Magi and Jesus were up to?"

"With _the magic potion piece_."

"If He had, then Thomas would be acting that scene out for a purpose. But if he hadn't been told, he probably would've reacted the same way."

" _Being an identical twin_ ," he said, tone lower, "I think Jesus would have told Thomas of his ploy with Simon, but I don't know if he really thought He could pull it off. Think of _all the things_ that could have happened or gone wrong. I always wondered why Jesus didn't say a thing during His trial with Pontius and the Pharisees. He just stood there and let Himself get burned. There was a moment when He could have left the trial but He stands there saying nothing so the Pharisees yell out: We want Barabbas! So Pontius gives them a choice and they choose the habitual criminal over a blasphemous rebel inciting revolution and treason to the Old Testament. So to me it was as if He _welcomed_ the crucifixion. But! But if He was going to pull it off He would have had to do it all the day before the Sabbath."

"Which He did."

"He would have needed Simon right there fully cocked to hand him the Valium."

"Which He did."

"And He would have had to have faith that the Roman soldiers didn't break His legs."

"His disciples could have made a ruckus when they came by, saying _He's dead! Leave Him be!_ "

"Still a major risk. His followers knew they could get Him down at sunrise the next day, so they would have needed a place for Him to go."

"What are the chances of his brother Joseph of Arimathea having a freshly made tomb made at his house?"

"Indeed. And to revive Him the record says it took a hundred pounds of myrrh and aloe to cleanse Him out and revive Him."

"Aloe is Nature's cleaner."

"And then, after riding in on an ass and making a big scene at the synagogue pushing over tables of the moneylenders and merchants, and after preaching with twelve disciples and crowds hanging around with rebellion against the Romans in the air, and after He has the Last Supper knowing Judas Iscariot could be bribed with silver shekels _and_ has a public trial that causes a stir, He hangs on a cross for less than a day and then leaves Jerusalem to come here."

"This is about as remote as there is in the world."

"So He has a well-deserved retirement up here with his twin brother, smokes the local balm and relaxes for the next forty years."

"What He does is write the Gospel of Thomas to make sure the record is right."

"They say it was discovered in 1945, but isn't it conceivable that the Gospel of Thomas is known but is in the Vatican Library in the top secret section?"

"Not included in the canon due to all the references to being His twin."

"And because it emphasizes His untainted message. Nothing about the Trinity or being the Son of God or a _virgin birth_. You know even in the Quran God says He made us using his semen? Actual word He uses. I think He says it in reaction to this very thing: He's ticked off _Isa_ the prophet was said to the Son of God but that Jesus never said it Himself."

Abid walked in front and they both followed his lead. At 14000 vertical feet, what the history books failed to explicate is the terrain. Loose rocks and steepness, the sheer posture of the Himalayas made him feel small, and with the thinness of the air Hellmantle struggled to fill his lungs, becoming more acute the farther they rode.

"There's no question His message changed," said D'Aqs, with authority in his voice. "First with Paul and Nicaea and the creation of a _composite religion_ with Sol Invictus, and then with the Synod of Whitby, when the Celtic Church switched to Roman dogma. When was that?"

"664."

"And then, within about fifty years the Quran is written."

"And in the Quran it says plainly it is the _untouched Message_ from God and that Mohammed is the last prophet, and the Quran is His last Message. _Last Chance_."

"It makes you wonder."

"Wonder what?" D'Aqs enjoyed the pause before answering.

"It makes you wonder if God is here with us and when He witnessed _this tremendous fudging by Rome_ He chose a Prophet and delivered His Message."

"Except this time he gives it to Abraham's _other_ son."

"Ishmael."

"Not in the West this time but in the East."

"To unite the East and the West."

"Yes! To _unite_ the world!"

Ramazon joined Abid in front of the horses, the heat ripping at D'Aqs' face. Hellmantle kept checking the map he kept under his dark gray poncho, looking for features that matched Dane Hellmantle's map.

"It is not time that heals all wounds; it's _the sun_ ," mumbled Hellmantle under his breath. Abid looked back at him and smiled.

It was up on the ridge that Hellmantle recognized the valley in front of them, a row of four peaks on both sides straddling a tabletop of smooth rock. A three-foot stonewall half-crumbled was beside a fallen building.

"D'Aqs!" he yelled. He came over with his water bottle in his hand.

"Here it is! There are the four peaks on each side of this gulch with the flatland! And the _wall!_ It _must_ be it!"

"I see!" Hellmantle took out the map but neither of them needed to look at it.

"It's as plain as connecting the dots!" There was even a large, flat rock floor that was beside the fallen stone buildings, shown on the map with sharp lines.

"I don't believe it!"

"That," said Hellmantle, "is the one feature that makes me think this monastery is beside a pond."

"That could have been a pond there." D'Aqs pointed.

"Or it's always been like that and they marked the rock flat like that. But it doesn't matter. _I think we've found it!_ "

Hellmantle pulled out his compass and took a reading.

"Just as it should be. The valley runs East-West."

"We are looking at it from the southeast."

"Even the river runs exactly as they have marked it, see with the sharp dip here." Hellmantle first pinpointed the spot on the map and then waved his hand to where there was a waterfall. "Even the treeline is in scale."

Abid walked over to them.

"Moses," he said.

"Moses?"

"Moses was here. The grave of Moses is close to here. Eighty miles that way." Abid pointed northeast. D'Aqs looked at his cousin.

"Moses is _buried_ up here?"

"Who would have ever known?"

"But why up here?"

"Maybe this valley is sacred from the old times?" The suggestion distracted Hellmantle, who looked D'Aqs as if seeing a new man.

"But the trail to the graveyard is closed due to fighting," Abid said, out of breath, his large stomach hanging over his belt.

"Can't get there?" D'Aqs was stupefied at how many famous religious men were in such a remote vicinity.

"No, there's fighting." Abid was firm. "It's closed."

"Next thing you're going to say is that Noah's Ark is _just over that ridge_."

"D'Aqs showing some _comedic wit_ ," said Hellmantle. "They say Noah's Ark was discovered in 1939 by a Russian pilot flying over Mount Ararat." Casual like he was commenting on the latest hockey game. They both looked at him.

"No, I'm not going to ask you if you're serious."

"The pilot returned to base and reported that he saw a giant boat lodged in the mountainside half-buried in snow. Both the Russians and the British flew planes over the location but couldn't find it. Said it must've been buried by snowfall." D'Aqs stared at a stray dandelion on the slope sharing its plot with a Gorteel spider.

"And how did they know it was the Ark?"

"Because they said what else could it be?" But Hellmantle was looking at the map and the land.

" _That_ is the monastery," said Hellmantle, pointing at the open rock floor.

"Yes. No one is there for a long time," said Abid.

"Now that we've found the 'X,' let's see if we can find the actual piece shall we?" D'Aqs was breathless at the prospect of finding a relic made by the hand of the prophet Joshua.

Crossing a hill beside a large stream, the freshly melted snow slithered over the rocks from a hundred feet up the slope. Beside the odd piece of ice, the water was turquoise, closer to green than blue. The green hue of the pine needles and the rich green grass reflected its hue as if falling forth but frozen, hunched over the river. The monastery looked close but everything around was so big that it proved to be farther away than expected. Hellmantle led the way on his horse to the compound between the bowls of rock.

When they arrived, Hellmantle found a stone hut.

"Where natives live during the summer months," said Abid. He tied the horses. Here they walked on foot.

The monastery had no buildings left standing except for two main walls of the main stone building that had no roof, but there was vegetation – bark, branches and soil – on top of a slanted roof with wood beams.

"Put there by mountain shepherds probably, who lived here during the warm season."

Before he was too close, Hellmantle and D'Aqs stopped and read the map again. The "X" on the map identified the east corner of the stone monastery, close to where the mountain stream passed.

"But there is nothing here." D'Aqs was almost frantic. Only the corner of the wall remained, dismembered stones fallen around it. Some were big and some were small but all were the same old mountain rock. Hellmantle looked back at Abid who was pitching a tent and starting a fire at the huts down the stream.

"It's right here," said Hellmantle. "It must be. I refuse to accept that it is not."

"But it's just _crumbled rock_." The let down in D'Aqs voice was enough to discourage the unbeliever.

"Nah, it must be here. What we're looking for is here. I don't think God would give us all this and lead us here only to be let down. _Let's look!_ " He knelt down and began picking up stones and examining them. Once done he threw into in a pile.

"These stones are all so worn from the elements that any inscription that might have been left is long gone," said D'Aqs upon closer inspection of the pile. Then as Hellmantle picked up another stone and underneath it was a bigger stone and it was darker. In fact it was black.

"Look!" Hellmantle walked to the stone flats where he sat down under the afternoon sun. "It's different. It's smooth, almost like worn marble." One side was angled almost like a wedge, as if it had been secured in the corner of the wall purposely. Hellmantle wiped it with his poncho. There in front of his eyes were words.

"It looks like Hebrew! This is _it!_ " On the other end of the angled side was a circular indentation as if someone had carved out the center of the stone.

"You're right. This is it!" D'Aqs knelt in front of the stone.

"It's been sitting here for 2000 years. Opening it here with my Swiss Army knife would be _irresponsible_. So let's take it back with us and carefully examine it at the houseboat."

"Is that it though?" D'Aqs took the stone from him and examined it. "It's over a foot in length. It's long enough to contain a scroll," giving the treasure back to Hellmantle, who put it into his pocket.

"There may be other stones we should be looking for." D'Aqs didn't answer because he was busy looking for another black stone.

After hours of looking around the east corner and along the wall, there were no other black stones to be found. After dark, they couldn't carry out their search so they returned to the horses where Abid had built a fire and had pitched the tent. The remnants of the old monastery were hidden by the night.

Ω

Hellmantle sat across from D'Aqs at the fire giddy with thoughts of what the stones had inscribed on them. But soon the invisible cold became visible as the night air evaporated into a mist lined by the rays of light coming from the dying sun. God's candle descended the other side of the Himalayan Range and the fire fought to burn the wood on the windy steppe. The icy breezes smashed into the fire producing energy and spirit.

"I made some doughnuts," said Abid, holding out a small tray of chocolate doughnuts, or at least something that looked like doughnuts.

"What kind of doughnuts are these?"

"Chocolate," he said.

"I'm so hungry I could eat one of those horses!" Hellmantle grabbed one and ate half of it in one bite.

"Good?" D'Aqs tentative. Took one and ate it in two bites. They both grabbed another.

"Happy you like them," said Abid. They both ate them quickly due to their hunger, the plate now nearly gone. "Very old recipe. Eggs, flour, oil, a little baking soda and _Kashmiri chocolate._ "

"Sorry Abid, would you like some of your brownies?" D'Aqs held up the near-empty plate.

"No, no. I made them for you. Finish them." And that's what they did. They eat the whole plateful.

Soon Hellmantle couldn't help pull out the stone from his pocket and study it in the firelight.

"Hebrew I think," said Hellmantle.

"Maybe it says ' _Moses was here_.'"

"Or maybe this stone came from Egypt with Moses?"

"It maybe it was Moses' strong box?"

"Did you know that Moses was the only prophet was that spoken to by God?"

"And the others?"

"The others were given Signs or spoken to by Gabriel. Like the Quran."

"But how could Jesus get a scroll in a stone?"

"I've been thinking about that and I think he sealed the rolled up papyrus with some sort of waterproof wax." D'Aqs pointed at the opening to the hollowed out center. "That's what _this_ is." There was something that looked like a small layer of wax covering a circular hole in the rock. D'Aqs began to laugh with sheer excitement.

"But wouldn't the scroll still be at risk? Usually scrolls are found in jars in caves – as per the Dead Sea Scrolls." Hellmantle started to laugh only because D'Aqs was becoming hysterical. "What?" Even Abid was laughing over near the horses.

"It could be wrapped in an animal bladder or some sort of _membrane_ to keep it dry." Again D'Aqs was overcome with laughter.

"What?"

"Here we are holding something Jesus wrote that could contain words that could change the way two billion people look at Christianity. I mean that's not your usual campfire kind of thing isn't it?"

"I'd say it's pretty unique."

"And to think you found it man!" Shaking his head the laugher gushed out like a geyser. "And you were so _intent_ on finding it when no one believed you! And here it is in your hands!" Hellmantle couldn't understand what was funny. "I mean here we are one-and-a-half kilometers in the sky sitting where Jesus and his twin brother lived for the rest of their lives and we were the ones who followed the clues and found this thing that had been whispered about for twenty centuries! And there you are holding it in your hand as if it were a baseball or something. I mean look at you!" Hair disheveled and unwashed, beard thick and bleached from the sun, skin bronzed by the wind and light, motorcycle jacket soft and worked in, motorcycle gloves ripped and barely threaded together and motorcycle boots that were scuffed and creased.

"What?"

"Classic!"

"Good to see you in such good humor man."

"Well God is watching right now and so am I. Nice one Hellmantle! You really did it against total odds. I mean what were the chances? Even less than a needle in a haystack."

"Good to know you had such confidence in me."

"No but that's the thing." Laughter dying down. "I did have confidence in you. Not at first in the Philippines, but when you found the map. That was when things turned for me. You know a large part of me didn't want you to find it."

"Why?"

"What do you mean why? Don't you know?" Shrugged shoulders. "Because it has assaulted my belief system. Everything I considered firm like bedrock has been ground into pebbles. I mean what am I going to do now? Think about it? Do you honestly think I can go back and preach knowing what I know now?"

"What if it's a dud?"

" _Dud?_ "

"Yeah, like it doesn't say anything meaningful." D'Aqs stroked his chin and thought about that.

"I don't think it will matter. Put it this way, if it's signed by Jesus then there's going to be some damage to me and my career."

"Yeah, okay, I can see that. But hey man, it's better to know the truth than to live under an illusion."

"I don't know about that. I'll get back to you after thinking about it for a bit."

They both stared into the fire, the ancient flame penetrating deeply into corners of their souls they had never visited before. The profundity of their find hung in the ethers between the corridors of cold rock nudging their imaginations to new heights, their lives forever changed by this event.

"The Koran speaks to the People of the Book," said Ramazon, holding his Koran high in the air. "Who are Offspring of Ibrahim, or as you know him Abraham." Then Ramazon spoke thus from the Koran:

And they say: "God has begotten a son:" Glory be to Him- To Him belongs all that is in the heavens and on earth. Everything renders worship to Him.

To Him is due the very origin of the heavens and the earth: When He decides on anything and He says to it: "Be." And so it becomes.

Those without knowledge say: "Why does God not speak to us? Or why does a Sign not come to us?" The people before them said words of similar nature; Their hearts are alike. We have indeed made clear Signs to any people who hold firmly to Faith (in their hearts).

Surely, We have sent you in truth (Islam) as a bearer of glad news and a Warner but to you no question shall be asked about the (disbelievers and) the companions of the blazing Fire.

The Jews or the Christians will never be satisfied with you (O Prophet,) unless you follow their religion. Say: "The Guidance of God- That is the (only) Guidance." And if you to follow their desires after the knowledge has reached you, then you would find neither protector nor helper against God.

Those to whom We have sent the Book, study it as it should be studied: They are the ones who believe in it: And for those who reject faith in it, the loss is their own."

Hours went by in comfortable silence, the moon appearing in the black sky and the stars glimmering in an infinite blinking of the eyes. The presence of God was on their minds.

"Allah is our God too."

# Chapter 41

_In which Hellmantle returns to Srinagar and finds the first translations of the inscriptions from the black stones_

## Fish Monastery, near Pakistani border, Kashmir Valley

## פֿﭏ

That night Hellmantle has a strange dream in which Jesus appears. This account was discovered in the newly found source of information and is presented here for the first time in the annals of the Norman's life history. It sheds light on the effect the discovery has on our intrepid explorer and adventurer touched by divine inspiration and unwavering belief in his purpose. Here is the original record of his dream the night he recovered the lost scroll:

I dreamt that nigh that Jesus opened His arms outward to me and from His chest opened what appeared to be a refrigerator door spreading light that swallowed me up. I remember that part because it was as if Jesus was watching all of my dreams last night, so I turned to Him and with His opened arms a warm light washed over me like a warm wind. I cannot recall all the details but I remember seeing Jesus who had the same hair as me including the same type of beard. Then it felt like my jaw had suddenly clicked into joint after 20 years of it being stuck just outside the jaw socket. I took a deep breath that was pure satisfaction as if I had feasted. I was proud as mustard.

In the morning Hellmantle awoke to the sounds of the wind and the stream and the tumbling of the odd falling rock. He reached a point of cold that caused him such shivering that he thought he might dislocate a shoulder so he got up early, woke D'Aqs and they climbed the ridge to see the sunrise.

The brightness coming from behind the snowy peak affected the homogeneity of the blue horizon, announcing the arrival of the life-giving star. The lone tree on the ridge felt the morning burn first before the valley floor below that still remained in the night's shadows. A line of light spread toward him on his right, sneaking up to engulf him. It rose and paused, obscuring the clear line of the mountaintop. Then the first rays appeared not as one but as many single rays, and then – in a moment – it became thicker with light so that his face was covered. He turned his eyes to avoid the onslaught of light as if the heart of God was exposed. A pure goodness welled over him as if a hand of God reached into his soul and flicked on a switch. He felt lit up from the inside as if he too was emitting a divine light.

"As if the eye of God is on me," he said.

"And it brings warmth – _immediate heat_ \- the one thing all living things need the most here," said his loyal squire.

"God's presence is the light, His voice is the heat; His message is in what I feel in my spirit when touched by the light as if I've been healed."

Like a funnel, the sunrays cut through the heatless valley air bridging night and day. The sun peeked over the eastern mountain ridge replacing shadow with light, doubt with surety, ignorance with enlightenment. Slivers of light snuck over the ridge creating a waterfall of light that, for a moment, cascaded over frosted rock. A sunrise in the Himalayas was an experience of timeless memories long forgotten. The first moments of light brought back the realm of possibility, all that was good in life and all that brought joy, as if a child again.

"Life is anew. The day is fresh and is being given to me to live well again, a chance to make it the best day ever. It is a gift! Life will not last forever."

"Only your character lasts for eternity." D'Aqs was philosophical.

" _This_ is the same sunrise that was experienced by Jesus and Thomas and His flock who traveled with Him to Kashmir. Jesus set out to find this heaven on earth _before_ His earthly days would come to an end. And _this_ is it." Hellmantle was speaking to God.

The birds that were still around on the first day of March began to usher in a new day, awakening the wolves and bears and tigers that lived wild in the area.

"If the locals believe Jesus flies among them, does He still have an earthly presence? And if so, wouldn't it be here?"

"He must have known that Moses had been buried in the area so it had some important Old Testament history."

"I suppose it's fair to say that Thomas, Jesus and Moses all witnessed the wonder of a new day sneaking over the mountaintops up here in the bosom of the Himalayas, like a baptism of light directly from God, a more powerful rite of passage than water on the head by the hand of man." Hellmantle grabbed his beard and pulled in thought. "Up here God chooses you for a moment. It is you and only you who are to be brought out of hibernation and into life. It is your day. This mountain is real and this wind is real. The rays of sun touch my skin like a soft caress by the hand of Helios."

There, alone on the ridge, they didn't want to leave the warming light. The others were still in the shadows. D'Aqs, stunned and quiet, only wanted to sit and let the sun dry up all the things he once regarded as problems.

Ω

Soon breakfast was ready at the fire and the majesty of the sunrise was over. Hellmantle and D'Aqs had tea as Abid prepared for the return to Srinagar.

"I can now understand why the tribe of Gad chose the best land in the mountains. Something very safe up here."

"Gad settled Switzerland, right?"

"They did. Less diseases, safe from invasions, closer to God, clouds so close you can touch them, crisp air. The full package."

"So what's the true story of Joshua and Jude, the real names of Jesus and Thomas?" Hellmantle contemplative and warmed.

"Perhaps it was Thomas' doubting nature that brought his mission so far?"

"Perhaps a traveler once told him that there existed a land where men call heaven on earth. Thomas probably doubted it until a stranger told him the same thing while he ate dinner in some café in Galilee. So, still wanting to doubt it, Thomas resolved to go see for himself once and for all so he set off for this heaven on earth and ended up here."

"Word was likely sent back to Jerusalem that his mission was planted in the ancient land of India and that if He was open to journeying to Kashmir that indeed He would find God's heaven on earth."

"Right," Hellmantle agreed. "Knowing of Thomas' doubting nature, and respecting him for it, the Master is likely to have known of His twin brother's whereabouts and thus used Thomas' judgment of the land to be accurate and just."

It was a rugged land and one that kept them moving until they reached the lush fields in the lower part of the _Vale de Kashmir_. There was flat land for miles, a lake and countless streams from which to drink and fish. On horseback they arrived safely in Srinagar.

# Chapter 42

_Which concerns the initial deciphering of the discovery at St Claire's Monastery_

and the need to go to the Ganges River

## Srinagar, Kashmir Valley, Jammu & Kashmir Province

## בֿכֿ

Back in the houseboat, Hellmantle promptly took out the black stone and placed it on the table. He even closed the door to the boat. With his Swiss Army knife on the table, he rubbed his beard and pondered how the stone might fit into the new theory of the story of Jesus.

"His bones being in Srinagar, and thus not in the place where millions believed He is, I think is important. But depending on what these stones say, it may be a whole different ballgame." He began to scrape at the hole with his knife.

"Careful soldier. It's dried mud that flakes off like sand."

"But there is a wax that has hardened." He placed the stone between his knees and put some elbow grease into it, applying enough force to remove little bits. When scraped off, the wax was almost translucent as if a type of amber.

"You can see through the flakes." Hellmantle worked the knife into the hole over a centimeter when the knife penetrated the wax.

"It's open!" he said. Hellmantle drank his Elephant beer in an effort to calm his nerves at the task at hand, and then used the hole to pry it open, bending his knife a few degrees in the process. But a large chunk of the wax flung out of the hole. He fingered it. It was very dry.

"Yes! I can feel something. It feels like... _soft leather_." He used his fingernails to clean around the hole and then placed the black stone on the table again.

"You ready _padre?_ " he said to D'Aqs, opening another Elephant beer. Hellmantle leaned back to operate. Reaching in the hole he couldn't get a good grip.

"Wait, let me use this." He pulled out the tweezers in his Swiss Army knife. This time he was able to get a firm grip. He slowly pulled out an animal membrane weighted with something inside it.

"What is that?"

"Animal membrane I think." Hellmantle was laughing. "To keep it dry. It's brittle, but the membrane has dried." It slipped off without friction.

"It's a...; it's a _scroll!_ " Hellmantle was now laughing hard. "It has been preserved somehow but I'm afraid I will tear it because I'm laughing."

"Then stop laughing."

"I can't help it." He placed the rolled scroll on the table and they both stared at it. Hellmantle breathed deeply. Some small petals of a flower were on the tabletop beside the papyrus.

"Preservatives I bet."

"My heart is beating like a race horse," said Hellmantle. "And it's March 1st. It's all so...; so _destined_."

"It looks fragile."

"It's made on papyrus. I can't believe how _durable_ this stuff is! Ummm, this is a scroll from Jesus the Prophet, _man_." More laughter came like he had turned into a child again.

"Okay then, let's read it as if it's not such a big deal. If we regard it as a _divine piece from the hand of the Son of God_ , then we'll never open it."

"You're right." Hellmantle staring at it, eyes wide open.

"I _am_ right."

"Or we could look at it as just another treasure found in the pursuit of truth? It all depends on how you look at it." Hellmantle's laughter balanced out. " _Employing divine grace to have found it has been a holy affair._ "

"I can see writing," said D'Aqs. They looked closer and saw handwriting.

"Let me see if I can open the first page," taking the top corner between his fingertips. "It's thin, much thinner than the map." He unraveled it off slowly. The papyrus creaked but didn't break.

"What language is it?"

"Looks like Aramaic again but a little different. With some elaborate swirls in the handwriting. Let's get Abid."

"I'll get him," D'Aqs offered.

When he was gone, Hellmantle started to think about the enormity of what he was faced with: the words of Jesus published in the 21st century alongside the words of Mohammad in the same book with the same message, both men being equal under God's eyes, both being prophets and spokesmen for God's will, both kneeling before God, everyone's one God, uniting mankind and beginning a new point of worship in a one-world religion. Again Hellmantle spoke directly to God:

"And the greatest discovery will be that the words of Jesus match verbatim mutual parts of the Koran and the Bible. And the Jews too, they should unite under Jesus' words in the scroll because they are part of the royal bloodline of King David and King Solomon. It is a common brotherhood."

D'Aqs returned. Abid's eyes were red as ochre. Hellmantle had put the black stone under the table so he didn't know where the scroll had come from.

"Abid, we need to see a holy man," he said. Abid eyed the membrane and the scroll on the table.

"Holy man? You mean Christian?"

"No. What I mean is we need to find a holy man who knows languages and about religious history." Abid looked at the scroll again.

"What is this?"

"It's a document we have. We're researchers." His eyes believed us but Abid's curiosity wanted to doubt it. He reached for the scroll.

" _Easy_ with that cowboy," said Hellmantle. "We think it's written in Aramaic." Abid took the scroll into his hands.

"It's a valuable piece."

"What does it say?" Abid ran his finger along the first line.

"It's ancient Aramaic. I know it."

"Read it!"

"It says ' _Jesus the Prophet_.'"

The hair on the back of Hellmantle's neck stood on end. D'Aqs could hear the water licking the side of the boat and felt the water under the wood. Moisture seeped into the marrow of his shinbones and up his femurs. D'Aqs felt chilled but sweat appeared along his forehead and upper lip.

Abid held it out wider to read, but he could only open it halfway before he feared the paper would crack.

"Yes, I can see. It is written in old Arabic. No, I cannot read. I can read ' _Jesus_ ' and ' _prophet_ ' because these are known old words in the language still used today that I see as a religious man in India. If you know something about religion then you would know these words. But the rest-"

"You can't read?"

"No. The only place you can find such a man is at the Ganges."

"Of course!" said Hellmantle. " _The mighty Ganges!_ Where else would there be a holy man in India? I must have sunstroke. Why didn't I think of that?"

"Is there a particular holy spot along the Ganges?"

"Varanasi is famous," Abid replied, "but it is dirty there. There is Hardiwar, where there are many holy men. It is good because the water is clean. Very close to the mountains."

"Oh, I don't know if I want to deal with Varanasi," said Hellmantle. "Hardiwar is clean and north of Delhi."

"The water is clean from the Himalayas. It is mountain water, but it's cold."

"Have you ever taken a dip in the Ganges, Abid?" His eyes opened wider and a lazy pride _heavied_ his eyelids.

"Yes, I have cleansed there. It was very good. I go when I can go. It is medicine for the soul we say." Hellmantle located Hardiwar on the map.

"Yes, I see it. Right on the Ganges, _yes_."

"If we want to go to the Ganges, then we'll need to fly back to Delhi," said Hellmantle.

"Well I don't really think I want to endure another long bus ride."

"All right. Let's go to the mighty Ganges by taxi." Abid nodded.

"I will arrange for it," he said. He stood up to leave but stopped, and then spoke to the cousins:

"Mr. Hellmantle," he said, now a bit serious. "You know Thomas was known as 'Judas Thomas' here in Kashmir?"

"Judas, yes: the brother of Jesus. Perhaps also known as _The Beloved Disciple_."

"Thomas is a Bible name but many of the old people speak about Jesus and Judas here."

"Interesting. In _The Acts of Thomas_ , Jesus appeared in front of a young man, and the young man sees Jesus in the likeness of the Apostle Judas Thomas." Hellmantle assumed a mocking posture of a preacher:

"' _The Lord says to him: 'I am not Judas who is also Thomas, I am his brother.'"_

# Chapter 43

_About Hellmantle of Normandy's meeting with the holy man_

after taking a dip in the Ganges River

## Hardiwar, the Ganges River, Uttaranchal Province

## תּוֹ

During the ride to Hardiwar in a rented jeep, D'Aqs thoughts kept drifting back to the dream he had had last night. All night he dreamed in a rapid fire of scenarios and situations, and realized in the twilight between dreams and semi-consciousness that he wasn't only dreaming from the perspective of himself but also from the perspective of Hellmantle and his father. Never before had he dreamt from a multi-perspective viewpoint. All three of them looked out upon D'Aqs dreamscape thinking the same thoughts. He wasn't surprised that Hellmantle shared the same perspective, but with his father it was odd. In one of the dreams he found Hellmantle at the end of a long struggle and there he was holding the scrolls safely in his hands.

During the ride he confessed his dream to Hellmantle. His reaction was concise.

"Do you know it means?" Hellmantle asked him, a smile curving at the edges of his mouth. He didn't know he really wanted to hear what he thought but he had to find meaning in such an unusual and vivid and arresting dream.

"No, I can't figure it out."

"Well, as I see it, you have come to see things from our perspective. You have experienced firsthand these hidden truths of the New Testament and come to regard it all as substantive truth. Therefore the sharing of three points of view in three peoples confirms that you have indeed grown and changed." That was what he was afraid of. It meant there was no turning back to his life as a preacher of the gospels that he no longer fully believed in with his heart. In effect, he was now out of a job.

"I can't lie to you," he replied. "That's what I thought it might mean. I've changed my beliefs after all our adventures, grown maybe but it means I cannot go back to my life as a minister."

"Yes, you're out of a job."

"Don't beat around the bush!"

"I think you know me well enough now that I never beat around the bush."

But for D'Aqs, the directness of his words was like the removal of a thorn in his paw, a sliver that had started to fester that needed to be pulled out with sharp tweezers. There was relief in this revelation for he could move forward to a new life, one that was no longer hampered by inconsistent dogma that he now knew had been fudged.

They rode the rest of the way to the Ganges, but when they arrived Hellmantle had one more thing to say, and he spoke thus:

"My cousin Grosseteste, do not be saddened by this change in you for you have been blessed by your open-mindedness and your willingness to say yes to these adventures. You have evolved My Son and now have the future open to you to do what is in your heart. That is your task; that is what you now need to find out. Listen to the new murmurings in your heart and follow your intuition because there is no wrong when a man evolves as you have. There can only be good in it. Opportunities will present themselves to you and you will open one of these doors and step through to a new world, a new life. I can only envy how you have come into your own and now have a firmer foundation from which to govern your new life."

There was nothing for him to say for he knew what had to be done and the Ganges was the perfect place to start anew.

Ω

They finally reached the swift flowing Ganges River just as it gained momentum falling from the melted snow tops of the Himalayan chink. Hellmantle knew they were at the ' _Gateway to God_ ' when he saw the monastery on the hill overlooking an old colonial clock tower by a shrine on the riverbank where holy men sat cross-legged with long white beards.

When the three of them crossed the bridge to the holy shrine and the dipping area around the old tower, they had encountered their first leper. There were many sitting in small groups on the bridge leaning against the railing and selling wares. All of the men wore their beards long and white. The holy men sat among the sick with their backs straight and limbs as thin as chopsticks. Most were shirtless and some were decorated with the red and yellow coloring that signified enlightenment and cleanliness of spirit.

"Hellmantle, sir" said Abid, stopping. "I go eat while you clean, OK?" Abid, the son of an Indian military officer, could no longer ignore the pains in his stomach. Leaving them Abid hurried off to a café below the monastery at the top of the escarpment. He was feeling hungry after skipping lunch so his passengers would have more time at the sacred river.

When Abid turned on his heel to satiate his hunger, Hellmantle saw a line of ascetics sitting contentedly by the water in the classic Asian squat. Some had made a spot on the water's edge their own. No possessions save a cup and cloak that doubled as their bed blanket. Hardiwar, already 3000 feet above sea level, when the sun dropped behind the surrounding mountains even the holiest men needed a cloak. Holding their metal cups, they drank steaming sweetened tea.

With Abid at the café, a strong mixture of thrill and panic coursed through his heart because he was new to this world. Past the venders selling jewelry and empty plastic bottles, he and D'Aqs stepped onto the platform that kissed the fast-moving river. It was here where the British had left their mark with a classic single turret showing the world the time in the empire with long skinny black arrows pointing to Roman numerals. But what first caught Hellmantle's attention was not the number of stalls along the water or the number of people who were bathing in the sacred river, but the size and swiftness of the Ganges River itself. He regarded it as a flow with divine purpose from the mountains that touched the clouds.

Chains lined the manmade platform that had been built on the side of the river for pilgrims to dip without being swept away by the current. A flowing narrow channel went between the British bell tower and the natural shore of high rock. The water was fast so they had funneled part of the river inside a pontoon, where older women and children could bath. After the narrow mouth of the channel widened, the current waned and there was a manmade eddy where builders had indented part of the shore. This was where the very old bath, where the eddy was safest.

But it was on the other side of this pontoon where Hellmantle and D'Aqs stood and watched the white-bearded men dip into the dangerous open waters in the fleetest part of the Ganges. Hellmantle noticed an old holy man with flowing hair and a long white beard watching them, but the look on the old man's face was not derision or suspicion but one of wonder and implicit respect. He wore only a small loincloth, without shoes or socks or shirt or robe. Cross-legged, he leaned his back straight against a pole beside the bell tower. The eye contact was brief but warm, with a hint of communication that Hellmantle couldn't put his finger on.

Then the old white-haired holy man rose slowly, patiently, showing his emaciated slimness and the yellow markings on his body. He walked as slow as molasses towards the water where he and D'Aqs were watching him. The old man looked straight ahead at the water but they both could see the half smile on his face. Hellmantle knew that the holy man could see him through the corner of his eye.

Slowly the man with the long white beard stepped into the rushing water, and then took another step, and then another, downward, holding a metal chain until the water raced past his waist. Still keeping Hellmantle in the corner of his eye, he turned toward the current with his half smile and neatly dipped under the water submerging his body completely. He was only under the surface for a few seconds, when he emerged with the poise of a veteran that could only be seen as holy. He again submerged himself into the river with only his tooth of an arm still visible, clinging to the metal chain. He surfaced a second time with the same holy aplomb, and then plunged a third time in the same manner. No one seemed to take notice of him except Hellmantle and D'Aqs, who were his audience.

The man with the white beard stepped up the concrete steps onto the pontoon where he returned to his spot by the bell tower. The half-smile had blossomed into a full smile but with his mouth still closed. Again Hellmantle was sure that the holy man kept his eye on him out of the corner of his eye. A minute passed by while Hellmantle pondered and observed, savored and wondered. Then, in a sudden burst, he approached to the Ganges, removed his clothes save his boxer shorts, and stepped into the cold water step by step, and grabbing hold of the metal chain just as the holy man had done.

At first he was in shock at how chilly the water was, but looking up to the horizon at the Himalayas, he saw why. He could feel the ice in the water.

He wavered for a moment and then looked over to the holy man with the long white beard and full head of long white hair. Seeing that he was still looking at Hellmantle, he faced the flowing river and held on to the chain, and just as the old man did, submerged his entire body in the ice-cold river. Without making too much of a splash, he rose up slowly and immediately experienced the cool rush of his skin burning from the holy mountain water under the hot Indian sun. His spirit swelled as if percolating towards Great Hall in the Sky. He knew God was present.

Now feeling the eyes of the holy man watching his white skinned body reacting to his first dip in the Ganges, Hellmantle slowly descended under the surface again going completely under but with his right arm holding the chain, just as the old man had done. He did it a third time like his teacher had shown him, and then he stood there in the Ganges waist deep for a moment letting the medicine water heal him. Fatigue brought forth emotional truth and the mirth was palpable as bodies immersed into the holy stream, regenerating the spirit. Ills and omens washed away by the pilgrimage and by the belief in the holiness of the Ganges River. Even lepers sat by hoping for the miracle of life to cure their affliction, bathing in the waters like all others.

As per the existing dynamic between them, it was Hellmantle who lead first and D'Aqs who followed however just as he was about to disrobe and cleanse in the holy river a leper approached him holding a bucket in his hand with no fingers. The leper asked him for money but D'Aqs didn't want to touch him or the bucket. Wanting to be left alone and unhindered beside the river, the leper demanded money by moving closer and closer to him forcing him to move away. The leper followed him, invading his personal space. He very kindly said he was sorry but he wouldn't give him money, but the leper stepped still closer to him, which forced D'Aqs to the water's edge. D'Aqs couldn't do anything but repeat the word "sorry" as he tried to walk forward but the leper kept crowding him so he turned around the other way and walked to the inner part of the platform around the man with leprosy to return to where Hellmantle dripped with holy water near the holy man.

"Made a new friend I see." Abid, who had come back from the café on the hill, laughed.

"I can't-." D'Aqs felt bad about the situation because he knew he was a compassionate man. He was just afraid of lepers.

"Here," said Hellmantle. He gave a few rupees to the leper. The relief was almost quantifiable. The leper thanked Hellmantle by patting his shoulder with his fingerless hand and walked away.

"Thanks Hellmantle. I just couldn't-"

"I understand. The water's great. It's time." There were tremendous forces working on D'Aqs at that moment and he could see the struggle going through his mind. "It's a spiritual rebirth. You'll feel better. Overcome your fears. Only then can you have true freedom. The water comes from the heavens up there." He pointed up to the Himalayas lost in the clouds. " _Trust me_."

"I trust you," he replied. "You're right. It was my need for a spiritual rebirth that lured me to the Ganges. That's what brought me from the Himalayas to the river's edge in Hardiwar." So the ex-missionary proceeded to strip down to his jockeys and undergo the same immersion three times as the holy man showed them.

As D'Aqs was reborn, Hellmantle spoke thus:

"Nowhere else have I ever felt such deep belief as when I stand here bathing in the Ganges, watching the joy in people's faces, the same as I feel." Hellmantle saw the holy man painting his forehead with a bright yellow paint.

"I see a holy man," said Abid. He looked at Hellmantle and then at the man with the white beard. His body was now completely marked by the yellow markings.

"It is from this holy man in a loincloth that gave me the _Ganges River dipping technique_ as the key to undergo the ancient Aryan rite of spiritual rebirth." D'Aqs returned from his new beginning.

"Yes," said Abid. "He is a holy man." Then, looking at D'Aqs, he said:

"He's the one who showed me how to _cleanse in the mighty waters_." Abid walked to him and bowed respectfully, and they spoke in Hindi. The old man listened, eyes glistening in the sun. There was an urn behind the holy man where ashes could be seen around its mouth.

"Do you have the scroll?" asked Abid. Hellmantle removed the scroll from his breast pocket and took off the membrane. Walking towards him, Abid sat beside the holy man and then gestured that Hellmantle and D'Aqs should sit with him. They all sat around the long white beard and Hellmantle handed him the scroll. He studied the writing carefully.

"Can he read it?" he asked, impatiently. There were more lepers in the vicinity who were targeting D'Aqs for more money. Abid spoke some more Hindi.

"Yes, he can." The old man now opened the scroll more, and then he read it aloud in a bold and clear voice. Abid translated after every sentence the following ancient scripture:

"These are the secret sayings that the living Jesus spoke and Didymos Judas Thomas recorded.

1 And he said, "Whoever discovers the interpretation of these sayings will not taste death."

2 Jesus said, "Those who seek should not stop seeking until they find. When they find, they will be disturbed. When they are disturbed, they will marvel, and will rule over all."

3 Jesus said, "If your leaders say to you, 'Look, the (Father's) imperial rule is in the sky,' then the birds of the sky will precede you. If they say to you, 'It is in the sea,' then the fish will precede you. Rather, the (Father's) imperial rule is inside you and outside you. When you know yourselves, then you will be known, and you will understand that you are children of the living Father. But if you do not know yourselves, then you live in poverty, and you are the poverty."

4 Jesus said, "The person old in days won't hesitate to ask a little child seven days old about the place of life, and that person will live. For many of the first will be last, and will become a single one."

5 Jesus said, "Know what is in front of your face, and what is hidden from you will be disclosed to you. For there is nothing hidden that won't be revealed."

6 His disciples asked him and said to him, "Do you want us to fast? How should we pray? Should we give to charity? What diet should we observe?"

Jesus said, "Don't lie, and don't do what you hate, because all things are disclosed before heaven. After all, there is nothing hidden that will not be revealed, and there is nothing covered up that will remain undisclosed."

7 Jesus said, "Lucky is the lion that the human will eat, so that the lion becomes human. And foul is the human that the lion will eat, and the lion still will become human."

8 And he said, The human one is like a wise fisherman who cast his net into the sea and drew it up from the sea full of little fish. Among them the wise fisherman discovered a fine large fish. He threw all the little fish back into the sea, and easily chose the large fish. Anyone here with two good ears had better listen!

9 Jesus said, Look, the sower went out, took a handful (of seeds), and scattered (them). Some fell on the road, and the birds came and gathered them. Others fell on rock, and they didn't take root in the soil and didn't produce heads of grain. Others fell on thorns, and they choked the seeds and worms ate them. And others fell on good soil, and it produced a good crop: it yielded sixty per measure and one hundred twenty per measure.

10 Jesus said, "I have cast fire upon the world, and look, I'm guarding it until it blazes."

11 Jesus said, "This heaven will pass away, and the one above it will pass away. The dead are not alive, and the living will not die. During the days when you ate what is dead, you made it come alive. When you are in the light, what will you do? On the day when you were one, you became two. But when you become two, what will you do?"

12 The disciples said to Jesus, "We know that you are going to leave us. Who will be our leader?"

Jesus said to them, "No matter where you are you are to go to James the Just, for whose sake heaven and earth came into being."

13 Jesus said to his disciples, "Compare me to something and tell me what I am like."

Simon Peter said to him, "You are like a just angel."

Matthew said to him, "You are like a wise philosopher."

Thomas said to him, "Teacher, my mouth is utterly unable to say what you are like."

Jesus said, "I am not your teacher. Because you have drunk, you have become intoxicated from the bubbling spring that I have tended."

And he took him, and withdrew, and spoke three sayings to him.

When Thomas came back to his friends they asked him, "What did Jesus say to you?"

Thomas said to them, "If I tell you one of the sayings he spoke to me, you will pick up rocks and stone me, and fire will come from the rocks and devour you."

14 Jesus said to them, "If you fast, you will bring sin upon yourselves, and if you pray, you will be condemned, and if you give to charity, you will harm your spirits. When you go into any region and walk about in the countryside, when people take you in, eat what they serve you and heal the sick among them. After all, what goes into your mouth won't defile you; what comes out of your mouth will."

15 Jesus said, "When you see one who was not born of woman, fall on your faces and worship. That one is your Father."

16 Jesus said, "Perhaps people think that I have come to cast peace upon the world. They do not know that I have come to cast conflicts upon the earth: fire, sword, war. For there will be five in a house: there'll be three against two and two against three, father against son and son against father, and they will stand alone.

17 Jesus said, "I will give you what no eye has seen, what no ear has heard, what no hand has touched, what has not arisen in the human heart."

18 The disciples said to Jesus, "Tell us, how will our end come?"

Jesus said, "Have you found the beginning, then, that you are looking for the end? You see, the end will be where the beginning is. Congratulations to the one who stands at the beginning: that one will know the end and will not taste death."

19 Jesus said, "Congratulations to the one who came into being before coming into being. If you become my disciples and pay attention to my sayings, these stones will serve you. For there are five trees in Paradise for you; they do not change, summer or winter, and their leaves do not fall. Whoever knows them will not taste death."

20 The disciples said to Jesus, "Tell us what Heaven's imperial rule is like."

He said to them, 'It's like a mustard seed, (it's) the smallest of all seeds, but when it falls on prepared soil, it produces a large branch and becomes a shelter for birds of the sky.'"

In the silence he kept saying the first line over and over: 'These are the secret sayings that the living Jesus spoke and Didymos Judas Thomas recorded.' Then it occurred to him.

"That's the Gospel of Thomas."

The old man cleared his throat.. Hellmantle noticed some parts of the scroll were unreadable so the old man skipped them.

24 His disciples said, "Show us the place where you are, for we must seek it."

He said to them, "Anyone here with two ears had better listen! There is light within a person of light, and it shines on the whole world. If it does not shine, it is dark."

25 Jesus said, "Love your friends like your own soul, protect them like the pupil of your eye."

26 Jesus said, "You see the sliver in your friend's eye, but you don't see the timber in your own eye. When you take the timber out of your own eye, then you will see well enough to remove the sliver from your friend's eye."

27 "If you do not fast from the world, you will not find the (Father's) domain. If you do not observe the sabbath as a sabbath you will not see the Father."

28 Jesus said, "I took my stand in the midst of the world, and in flesh I appeared to them. I found them all drunk, and I did not find any of them thirsty. My soul ached for the children of humanity, because they are blind in their hearts and do not see, for they came into the world empty, and they also seek to depart from the world empty. But meanwhile they are drunk. When they shake off their wine, then they will change their ways."

29 Jesus said, "If the flesh came into being because of spirit, that is a marvel, but if spirit came into being because of the body, that is a marvel of marvels.

Yet I marvel at how this great wealth has come to dwell in this poverty."

30 Jesus said, "Where there are three deities, they are divine. Where there are two or one, I am with that one."

31 Jesus said, "No prophet is welcome on his home turf; doctors don't cure those who know them."

32 Jesus said, "A city built on a high hill and fortified cannot fall, nor can it be hidden."

33 Jesus said, "What you will hear in your ear, in the other ear proclaim from your rooftops. After all, no one lights a lamp and puts it under a basket, nor does one put it in a hidden place. Rather, one puts it on a lampstand so that all who come and go will see its light."

34 Jesus said, "If a blind person leads a bind person, both of them will fall into a hole."

35 Jesus said, "One can't enter a strong person's house and take it by force without tying his hands. Then one can loot his house."

36 Jesus said, "Do not fret, from morning to evening and from evening to morning, about what you are going to wear."

37 His disciples said, "When will you appear to us, and when will we see you?"

Jesus said, "When you strip without being ashamed, and you take your clothes and put them under your feet like little children and trample then, then [you] will see the son of the living one and you will not be afraid."

38 Jesus said, "Often you have desired to hear these sayings that I am speaking to you, and you have no one else from whom to hear them. There will be

days when you will seek me and you will not find me."

39 Jesus said, "The Pharisees and the scholars have taken the keys of knowledge and have hidden them. They have not entered nor have they allowed those who want to enter to do so. As for you, be as sly as snakes and as simple as doves."

40 Jesus said, "A grapevine has been planted apart from the Father. Since it is not strong, it will be pulled up by its root and will perish."

41 Jesus said, "Whoever has something in hand will be given more, and those who have nothing will be deprived of even the little they have."

42 Jesus said, "Be passersby."

43 His disciples said to him, "Who are you to say these things to us?" ...

45 Jesus said, "Grapes are not harvested from thorn trees, nor are figs gathered from thistles, for they yield no fruit. Good persons produce good from what they've stored up; bad persons produce evil from the wickedness they've stored up in their hearts, and say evil things. For from the overflow of the heart they produce evil."

46 Jesus said, "From Adam to John the Baptist, among those born of women, no one is so much greater than John the Baptist that his eyes should not be averted. But I have said that whoever among you becomes a child will recognize the (Father's) imperial rule and will become greater than John."

47 Jesus said, "A person cannot mount two horses or bend two bows. And a slave cannot serve two masters, otherwise that slave will honor the one and offend the other.

"Nobody drinks aged wine and immediately wants to drink young wine. Young wine is not poured into old wineskins, or they might break, and aged wine is not poured into a new wineskin, or it might spoil. An old patch is not sewn onto a new garment, since it would create a tear."

48 Jesus said, "If two make peace with each other in a single house, they will say to the mountain, 'Move from here!' and it will move."

49 Jesus said, "Congratulations to those who are alone and chosen, for you will find the (Father's) domain. For you have come from it, and you will return there again."

50 Jesus said, "If they say to you, 'Where have you come from?' say to them, 'We have come from the light, from the place where the light came into being by itself, established [itself], and appeared in their image.' If they say to you, 'Is it you?' say, 'We are its children, and we are the chosen of the living Father.' If they ask you, 'What is the evidence of your Father in you?' say to them, 'It is motion and rest.'"

51 His disciples said to him, "When will the rest for the dead take place, and when will the new world come?"

He said to them, "What you are looking forward to has come, but you don't know it."

52 His disciples said to him, "Twenty-four prophets have spoken in Israel, and they all spoke of you." He said to them, "You have disregarded the living one who is in your presence, and have spoken of the dead."

53 His disciples said to him, "is circumcision useful or not?"

He said to them, "If it were useful, their father would produce children already circumcised from their mother. Rather, the true circumcision in spirit has become profitable in every respect."

54 Jesus said, "Congratulations to the poor, for to you belongs Heaven's domain."

55 Jesus said, "Whoever does not hate father and mother cannot be my disciple, and whoever does not hate brothers and sisters, and carry the cross as I do, will not be worthy of me."

56 Jesus said, "Whoever has come to know the world has discovered a carcass, and whoever has discovered a carcass, of that person the world is not

worthy."

57 Jesus said, The Father's kingdom is like a person who has [good] seed. His enemy came during the night and sowed weeds among the good seed. The person did not let the workers pull up the weeds, but said to them, "No, otherwise you might go to pull up the weeds and pull up the wheat along with them." For on the day of the harvest the weeds will be conspicuous, and will be pulled up and burned.

58 Jesus said, "Congratulations to the person who has toiled and has found life."

59 Jesus said, "Look to the living one as long as you live, otherwise you might die and then try to see the living one, and you will be unable to see."

60 (He saw) a Samaritan carrying a lamb and going to Judea. He said to his disciples, "(...) that person (...) around the lamb." They said to him, "So that he may kill it and eat it." He said to them, "He will not eat it while it is alive, but only after he has killed it and it has become a carcass."

They said, "Otherwise he can't do it."

He said to them, "So also with you, seek for yourselves a place for rest, or you might become a carcass and be eaten."

61 Jesus said, "Two will recline on a couch; one will die, one will live."

Salome said, "Who are you mister? You have climbed onto my couch and eaten from my table as if you are from someone."

Jesus said to her, "I am the one who comes from what is whole. I was granted from the things of my Father."

"I am your disciple."

"For this reason I say, if one is (whole), one will be filled with light, but if one is divided, one will be filled with darkness."

62 Jesus said, "I disclose my mysteries to those [who are worthy] of [my] mysteries. Do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing."

63 Jesus said, There was a rich man who had a great deal of money. He said, "I shall invest my money so that I may sow, reap, plant, and fill my storehouses with produce, that I may lack nothing." These were the things he was thinking in his heart, but that very night he died. Anyone here with two ears had better listen!

64 Jesus said, A person was receiving guests. When he had prepared the dinner, he sent his slave to invite the guests. The slave went to the first and said, "My master invites you." The first replied, "Some merchants owe me money; they are coming to me tonight. I have to go and give them instructions. Please excuse me from dinner." The slave went to another and said, "My master has invited you." The second said to the slave, "I have bought a house, and I have been called away for a day. I shall have no time." The slave went to another and said, "My master invites you." The third said to

the slave, "My friend is to be married, and I am to arrange the banquet. I shall not be able to come. Please excuse me from dinner." The slave wen to another and said, "My master invites you." The fourth said to the slave, "I have bought an estate, and I am going to collect the rent. I shall not be able to come. Please excuse me." The slave returned and said to his master, "Those whom you invited to dinner have asked to be excused." The master said to his slave, "Go out on the streets and bring back whomever you find to have dinner."

Buyers and merchants [will] not enter the places of my Father.

65 He said, A [...] person owned a vineyard and rented it to some farmers, so they could work it and he could collect its crop from them. He sent his slave so the farmers would give him the vineyard's crop. They grabbed him, beat him, and almost killed him, and the slave returned and told his master. His master said, "Perhaps he didn't know them." He sent another slave, and the farmers beat that one as well. Then the master sent his son and said, "Perhaps they'll show my son some respect." Because the farmers knew that he was the heir to the vineyard, they grabbed him and killed him. Anyone here with two ears had better listen!

66 Jesus said, "Show me the stone that the builders rejected: that is the keystone."

67 Jesus said, "Those who know all, but are lacking in themselves, are utterly lacking."

68 Jesus said, "Congratulations to you when you are hated and persecuted;

and no place will be found, wherever you have been persecuted."

69 Jesus said, "Congratulations to those who have been persecuted in their hearts: they are the ones who have truly come to know the Father. Congratulations to those who go hungry, so the stomach of the one in want may be filled."

70 Jesus said, "If you bring forth what is within you, what you have will save you. If you do not have that within you, what you do not have within you [will] kill you."

71 Jesus said, "I will destroy [this] house, and no one will be able to build it [...]."

72 A [person said] to him, "Tell my brothers to divide my father's possessions with me."

He said to the person, "Mister, who made me a divider?"

He turned to his disciples and said to them, "I'm not a divider, am I?"

73 Jesus said, "The crop is huge but the workers are few, so beg the harvest boss to dispatch workers to the fields."

74 He said, "Lord, there are many around the drinking trough, but there is nothing in the well."

75 Jesus said, "There are many standing at the door, but those who are alone will enter the bridal suite."

76 Jesus said, The Father's kingdom is like a merchant who had a supply of merchandise and found a pearl. That merchant was prudent; he sold the merchandise and bought the single pearl for himself.

So also with you, seek his treasure that is unfailing, that is enduring, where no moth comes to eat and no worm destroys."

77 Jesus said, "I am the light that is over all things. I am all: from me all came forth, and to me all attained. Split a piece of wood; I am there. Lift up the stone, and you will find me there."

78 Jesus said, "Why have you come out to the countryside? To see a reed shaken by the wind? And to see a person dressed in soft clothes, [like your] rulers and your powerful ones? They are dressed in soft clothes, and they cannot understand truth."

79 A woman in the crowd said to him, "Lucky are the womb that bore you and the breasts that fed you."

He said to [her], "Lucky are those who have heard the word of the Father and have truly kept it. For there will be days when you will say, 'Lucky are the womb that has not conceived and the breasts that have not given milk.'"

80 Jesus said, "Whoever has come to know the world has discovered the body, and whoever has discovered the body, of that one the world is not worthy."

81 Jesus said, "Let one who has become wealthy reign, and let one who has power renounce (it)."

82 Jesus said, "Whoever is near me is near the fire, and whoever is far from me is far from the (Father's) domain."

83 Jesus said, "Images are visible to people, but the light within them is hidden in the image of the Father's light. He will be disclosed, but his image is hidden by his light."

84 Jesus said, "When you see your likeness, you are happy. But when you see your images that came into being before you and that neither die nor become visible, how much you will have to bear!"

85 Jesus said, "Adam came from great power and great wealth, but he was not worthy of you. For had he been worthy, [he would] not [have tasted] death."

86 Jesus said, "[Foxes have] their dens and birds have their nests, but human beings have no place to lay down and rest."

87 Jesus said, "How miserable is the body that depends on a body, and how miserable is the soul that depends on these two."

88 Jesus said, "The messengers and the prophets will come to you and give you what belongs to you. You, in turn, give them what you have, and say to yourselves, 'When will they come and take what belongs to them?'"

89 Jesus said, "Why do you wash the outside of the cup? Don't you understand that the one who made the inside is also the one who made the outside?"

90 Jesus said, "Come to me, for my yoke is comfortable and my lordship is gentle, and you will find rest for yourselves."

91 They said to him, "Tell us who you are so that we may believe in you."

He said to them, "You examine the face of heaven and earth, but you have not come to know the one who is in your presence, and you do not know how to examine the present moment.

92 Jesus said, "Seek and you will find. In the past, however, I did not tell you the things about which you asked me then. Now I am willing to tell them, but you are not seeking them."

93 "Don't give what is sacred to dogs, for they might throw them upon the manure pile. Don't throw pearls [to] pigs, or they might ... it [...]."

94 Jesus [said], "One who seeks will find, and for [one who knocks] it will be opened."

95 [Jesus said], "If you have money, don't lend it at interest. Rather, give [it] to someone from whom you won't get it back."

96 Jesus [said], The Father's kingdom is like [a] woman. She took a little leaven, [hid] it in dough, and made it into large loaves of bread. Anyone here with two ears had better listen!

97 Jesus said, The [Father's] imperial rule is like a woman who was carrying a [jar] full of meal. While she was walking along [a] distant road, the handle of the jar broke and the meal spilled behind her [along] the road. She didn't know it; she hadn't noticed a problem. When she reached her house, she put the jar down and discovered that it was empty.

98 Jesus said, The Father's imperial rule is like a person who wanted to kill someone powerful. While still at home he drew his sword and thrust it into the wall to find out whether his hand would go in. Then he killed the powerful one.

99 The disciples said to him, "Your brothers and your mother are standing outside."

He said to them, "Those here who do what my Father wants are my brothers and my mother. They are the ones who will enter my Father's kingdom."

100 They showed Jesus a gold coin and said to him, "The Roman emperor's people demand taxes from us."

He said to them, "Give the emperor what belongs to the emperor, give God what belongs to God, and give me what is mine."

101 "Whoever does not hate [father] and mother as I do cannot be my [disciple], and whoever does [not] love [father and] mother as I do cannot be my [disciple]. For my mother [...], but my true [mother] gave me life."

102 Jesus said, "Damn the Pharisees! They are like a dog sleeping in the cattle manger: the dog neither eats nor [lets] the cattle eat."

103 Jesus said, "Congratulations to those who know where the rebels are going to attack. [They] can get going, collect their imperial resources, and be prepared before the rebels arrive."

104 They said to Jesus, "Come, let us pray today, and let us fast."

Jesus said, "What sin have I committed, or how have I been undone? Rather, when the groom leaves the bridal suite, then let people fast and pray."

105 Jesus said, "Whoever knows the father and the mother will be called the child of a whore."

106 Jesus said, "When you make the two into one, you will become children of Adam, and when you say, 'Mountain, move from here!' it will move."

107 Jesus said, The (Fahter's) imperial rule is like a shepherd who had a hundred sheep. One of them, the largest, went astray. He left the ninety- nine and looked for the

one until he found it. After he had toiled, he said to the sheep, 'I love you more than the ninety-nine."

108 Jesus said, "Whoever drinks from my mouth will become like me; I myself shall become that person, and the hidden things will be revealed to him."

109 Jesus said, The (Father's) imperial rule is like a person who had a treasure hidden in his field but did not know it. And [when] he died he left it to his [son].

The son [did] not know (about it either). He took over the field and sold it. The buyer went plowing, [discovered] the treasure, and began to lend money at interest to whomever he wished.

110 Jesus said, "Let one who has found the world, and has become wealthy, renounce the world."

111 Jesus said, "The heavens and the earth will roll up in your presence, and whoever is living from the living one will not see death." Does not Jesus say, "Those who have found themselves, of them the world is not worthy"?

112 Jesus said, "Damn the flesh that depends on the soul. Damn the soul that depends on the flesh."

113 His disciples said to him, "When will the (Father's) imperial rule come?"

"It will not come by watching for it. It will not be said, 'Look, here!' or 'Look, there!' Rather, the Father's kingdom is spread out upon the earth, and people don't see it."

When the old man with the white beard stopped speaking, Hellmantle looked at D'Aqs and then away at the river where he saw a half-sunken ship that was grounded right in the middle of the strong center current. Its mast stuck out of the water and the big white statue of the Hindu God Vishnu was near it, but the Himalayas enclosed and protected it.

A man approached him with cups and a kettle in his hands.

"Yes please," he said to the man with the tea. He took the cup in both hands after paying the man, and made sure the holy man, D'Aqs and Abid also got a cup.

It was only after D'Aqs had heard the scrolls translated that he finally believed.

"Ah, Doubting Thomas. Prolonged doubt, but no longer."

"The dip was my purification," he said. He made the _Blonde Aquitaine_ cross on his heart and gave a wink with the left eye.

"Purification. Hmm, yes. That reminds me." He went to the rake-thin Holy Man where Abid stood.

"Abid, this is a Holy Man of great wisdom, yes?"

"He is Hellmantle."

"I would can you ask him a question for me: Is there an afterlife?"

"There is Hellmantle. You do not believe?"

"It's not that I don't believe. I wish to hear this man wisdom on the matter. Please ask him, and if he says yes, then ask him: What is it?" Abid considered it and then saw what he was after. With a light step he asked the Holy Man.

Hellmantle stood in front and watched his reaction. Without speaking the Holy Man looked at Hellmantle and nodded. And then he spoke thus in Hindi:

"The cycle of life is like a river," he said, pointing to the Ganges. "A man's soul never dies; it is timeless. The soul stays but we cannot see it because there is no body or space, only one dimension: time. With senses like eyes or ears, a soul can only feel the emotions from the chi that runs through us starting at our heart. This is why one must keep love in their heart. If you a good person souls who love you will want to be with you, and will protect you through exuding an emotion that you can sense if you're are open to hearing." The Holy Man stood up and put his hand on Hellmantle's right shoulder. "You have lost someone and care he still exists. Calm yourself young man. Calm. Take a deep breath like me." The slowest breath he had ever witnessed was difficult to copy. "Now, feel the tingling in your arms and legs. That is the chi energy a soul can feel. Keep that chi abundant and good things will happen. It will make your friend's soul smile."

"My identical brother died twenty-seven years ago and I want to know if he is still around and if I will ever see him." Abid translated, interest piqued.

"My Son," he said. The Holy Man's slow smile revealed two teeth but his eyes grew in intensity, the brown iris swamped with light. "Twins forever remain together through eternity. You will never lose your brother. He is waiting for you to shed your earthly vessel so you will join him in the one-dimensional afterlife where you will be bound together in unison with the love you both feel, entwined as one like you were in your mother's womb. Just as you had an innate understanding of each other here in this life, you will again have that in another time when you will be born as twins again. You will have another journey together, laugh and share the love of life you had before." He stepped closer. "And I see in your eye mischief. Take comfort young man that that mischief will again be shared with your twin brother. This is the way of life. The afterlife is a mystery to us but not to them. Your brother is here." He waved his hand above their heads.

"Thank you very much Holy Man," he said, but he did not let go of his shoulder.

"You have purified your sins in the Ganges. Please come with me so that you can cleanse the sins of your twin brother. It is a Holy River with water from the highest place on earth. Do it for him." They walked to the river, Hellmantle disrobed and they stepped into the cold water not saying a word. In unison they submerged their bodies three times, his heart full of love and sadness for Rheine.

Once done and ripping, they went back to Abid and D'Aqs where water fell into his eyes and mixed with the tears overflowing from his eyes, his heart never so full of love and warmth knowing Rheine was there with him. And always would be. The Holy Man beamed with happiness at the transformation of the tall young man in front of him. Like an ethereal spirit himself, the Holy Man felt the happiness spilling forth into the ethers like a magnet for the countless souls swirling around the Ganges River.

# Chapter 44

_About Hellmantle of Normandy's meeting at Jack Grosseteste's place_

with D'Aqs and Catharine the artist from Sagada

## Kowloon Tong, Hong Kong, China 2012

## רּשּ

Hellmantle's boots were still muddy from the trip in Vietnam but he didn't seem to notice as a puddle of dried dirt grew on the floor below him.

"So what can we deduce from the trips son?" asked Jack Grosseteste, sipping a large mug of Jasmine tea. D'Aqs, cheeks ruddy and holding Catharine's hand, mulled.

"I suppose we could deduce most Europeans are lost Israelites and because of that we used to practice the laws of the Torah, like not eating pork and not working on the Sabbath, which should be Saturday. And we could deduce we used to speak Hebrew before we lost our fidelity to our Hebrew ways when living in the Caucuses." He stroked his full-grown brown beard and spoke thus:

"And now I can understand Hellmantle's interest in the Lost Tribes and the importance of chivalry." Hellmantle's awkwardly glanced at Catharine and bowed his head.

" _I am yours, M'Lady_."

"And I can deduce why the Vatican hid Jude Thomas from being Jesus' twin brother. It would be too difficult to rationalize two Sons of God."

"But if they hadn't voted that into existence at the Council of Nicaea then maybe they might have included it." Hellmantle and his uncle enjoyed the thick blue smoke from their cigars after the meal, Hellmantle smoking with zeal and nodding after every puff.

"Good point Hellmantle," replied D'Aqs, having learned the best way to keep Hellmantle happy was to acknowledge every hit he made to the canon of Jesus' real story.

"One can see how Saul-Paul's efforts to promote early Christianity went to distance it on the more important aspects of Jesus' Mission, and how the New Testament could have been...been better put together, if they had for example included the Gospel of Thomas and the Gospel of Mary." Catharine the painter squeezed her fiancé's hand, smile with a flush of rose hue

"One could further deduce that descendants of the bloodline of Jesus would want to keep that knowledge alive but also wonder why the Papacy would have, at some point in history, embraced the bloodline and installed a Merovingian as Pope? Thereby truly having a kingship on Earth." Nods from his father, proud behind the smoke.

"A lot of work, rescinding the virgin birth and there was already bad blood after Dagobert's death."

"So in that way it's unfortunate how events truly unfolded." When D'Aqs said truly he looked meaningfully at his cousin, lips still chapped from India.

"And an objective observer can deduce I think mainly from those two passages after the crucifixion when Jesus tells his disciples he's hungry that Jesus acted out the martyring to fulfill the prophecies of the Messiah, one who would have to be of the Royal Line, which Jesus was from."

"And I think for me and how I want all this other information to affect the way I see Christianity now is how all of this gives more understanding why there was a Protestant Reformation, since I cannot believe that the religious men in Britain knew about Tara and the red rampant lion through Jeremiah, which is really a beautiful piece of literature in history." Nodded at Hellmantle, a ring of red wine stained around the ends of his upper lip.

"And from deducing from the factual data we know as brothers of the Blonde Acquitaine and students interested in history, it is plain to see the logic how the Ten Lost Tribes came to be known as the Ten Lost Tribes after nearly a thousand years living in southern Russia in mild servitude to a foreign culture, prized booty from their exploits in Palestine. Ways of the Hebrew laws are forgotten and the White Scythians assume new identities as Celts, Scandinavians, Gauls, Franks and Saxons. And by virtue of having the unicorn as one of the two big symbols on the British coat-of-arms, it's a confirmation of the uniting of the unicorn House of Israel and the Lion House of Judah."

"And in this age of the Internet and information exchange," said Catharine, happy to be part of the family, "now is the time this real histoire is known to the world."

"My Fair Lass," said Hellmantle, still not sure if his woman Catharine was holding D'Aqs' hand as a show of selflessness to him, or whether the rumor he had heard of their engagement was to allow him to be _uninfringed_ by marital duties so he could continue to go forth and contribute to the emerging canon.

When D'Aqs gave his cousin a penetrating look to try to confirm Catharine was his fiancé and not his fair lass, but Hellmantle took it as a cue for him to let out his gunny bag of deductions since he was the hero of the sally.

"One might be able to deduce from the empirical data thus far tabulated that in due course most of the world will become followers of the Koran, not as Muslims per se but as Israelites returning to the fold of the untainted message, but in the same vein of deduction that these Israelite followers of the Koran would also adhere to the first five books of the Old Testament and follow the laws proscribed to them through Moses. With a caveat that the Merovingian beliefs would be welcomed into this new uniting canon of this inclusive religion. The end result is a truer representation of God's message."

"Very tall order nephew. Already fissures exist between these peoples that might not heal. Historical inertia comes into play."

"Concur with the historical inertia piece uncle _Grosjean_ , but what is the other alternative? Create yet another religion? Sure, I am great and have many abilities as a Merovingian however being a Prophet might be a tad out of my league!" Jack Grosseteste's laughter boomed.

"Good to hear you say that Hellmantle. Good to hear."

"Yes, I would concur with Hellmantle that by selecting the parts of the aggregate canon in existence a true follower of the one God can be achieved. I do need to open the Koran that you gave me last week. My knowledge in that area is weak."

"If we as a collective people can be open minded." D'Aqs reached for the box of cigars on the table and lit one.

"God feels for us. We've lost our Abramic past, but now we have _His Untainted Message_." D'Aqs poised beside his soon-to-be wife

"Here's the _Untainted Biggie_." Catharine the artist couldn't suppress her laughter at Hellmantle's nonchalant delivery. " _From_ the _Biggie_." Jack Grosseteste raised his glass and said:

"To the _Untainted Biggie!_ " For a moment D'Aqs thought he had heard Hellmantle slip: "To the _Untainted Bugger!_ " The faint hue of red bespoke a noted miscue under the divine eye of God. Under Hellmantle's breath came the corrected words for the toast, and then "With respect." Clearly a believer the God of Abraham (Ibrahim) and one of the _Nine Worthies of Truth_ , the others Hellmantle determined to be: Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Ishmael, Moses, Jesus, Mohammed, Hughes de Payens and Hellmantle of Normandy. It was a great world he lived in, in this cathedral of truth.

Here the author must end the tale for there is nothing more to say. If Gods look out for saints and fools, then the Great Hellmantle, pious and plucky, eccentric yet sincere and never with any guile, had gone to extremes to expose another possibility in the story of history and perhaps a truth that Jesus lived and died with his identical twin brother Didymus "Jude" Thomas in northern India. It doesn't change the beauty and pure strength of the Gospels; it only sheds more light on the life of the man who defined a millennium and brought the Ten Lost Tribes of the House of Israel together again with the House of Judah and with the entire world. It is not so much what he did that matters; it's whether we found little gaps of insight into the explorer's mind where time pauses for sweat and will and yet where so few go. It is an achievement and a cause. The deeper the truth goes, the wider the _uncrossable_ moat between man and man becomes. In the words of the Man from Normandy: "It is an accepted cost for one who wants one's life to be worthy of his time and to become a deep-sea diver in an ocean of shallow swimmers."

Most of all, for all his faults Hellmantle was original. And perhaps that's why all this came to be. He chose the motorcycle as a means of exploring and as a pen of illustration. It is simply the best means for the truest and the toughest. And that I, D'Aqs Grosseteste, writer of this actual account, leave it to you, the reader, to determine the extremism of his purpose, for surely no man has attempted such a feat in such a short time and in such a manner. The haze by the bury creek takes on the wind of God, wrinkles into a loneliness of being, where the others' eyes never asks the question so the story is never told. He would cross a country over the mountaintops on his motorcycle and come back on the same day and never mention it unless asked. This is the philosopher's mystery. This is the Great Quiet of those few men who, through the sheer mileage of the true seeker, dismember themselves from the tribe of the acceptable.

###

# Note about the Death of Thomas

Hellmantle remarked about Jesus's twin brother Thomas: "Well, being a man of some education, there are two stories explaining the death of Thomas. One says that he was killed with a spear from the orders of a pagan priest, but another story suggests that he was praying when he died. The story goes that he was praying at the place now known as Sao Thome where peacocks hid him from sight of nearby hunters. Thomas was struck with an arrow flung by one of the hunters and died as he prayed. Portuguese legend supports this. In 1523 Portuguese seamen discovered the relics of Thomas in Sao Thome and took them back to Portugal."

# Editor's Note

In Hellmantle's notes we found the following curious recollection of history events. It sheds light on the degree of influence his Asperger's Syndrome had on the man.

# The Hall of Fame for Catholic Atrocities over Two Millennia

Burning the Knights Templar and their leaser Jacques de Molay at the stake in 1310 in France so they didn't have to pay their bill.

Massacring the Cathars on the southeast coast of Spain for their flourishing culture and cult of Gnosticism.

The Thirty-Years War that saw one in three Europeans die from religious persecution.

The Spanish Inquisition to oust Jews and non-Christians from the once-controlled Iberian Peninsula of the Moors.

The Assassination of Dagobert the Third and extinction of the Merovingian line of Kings in France

The Salem Witch Hunt in the Thirteen Colonies burning witches for deviation from the Gospels.

# Hellmantle's Chronology of Historical Events

Ω

Ca. 30,000BC: Historians cannot explain the leap in the human species, evolving from homo sapiens to homo sapiens sapiens, believing man's physiology had taken a giant step forward

Ca. 12000BC: The last Ice Age ends

6500BC: Beginning of civilization in Sumer, Tigress-Euphrates-River delta, a culture curiously advanced for its time on the world stage, with a spiritual belief system acknowledging Gods not from earth and worshipping Lilith: the first human

3600BC: Ancient Egypt blossoms into a civilization displaying advanced engineering skills, firm belief in the afterlife, and knowledge of the stars incongruous with its historical zeitgeist. Games such as chess and playing cards came from Egyptian ingenuity

1850BC: Abraham born in Sur, modern-day Iraq

1813BC: God speaks to Abraham, asking him to prove his faith when asked to kill his son Isaac. Just before Abraham is about to slay his child, God intervenes and is satisfied with the faith and fervor of Abraham thus making him the forefather of a nation through whom all the families of the earth would be blessed

1782BC: Jacob is Isaac's son and chosen by God as the father of the Twelve Tribes of Israel, with Jacob prophesizing the fate of each tribe

1633BC: Hebrews conquered and taken to Babylon

1583BC: Released from Babylonian captivity, Old Testament started, with scribes copying the story of creation and the Garden of Eden from the Sumerians

764BC: King David's reign, the Israelites flourishing in Palestine

702BC: King Solomon and the building of the Temple said to be designed exactly to God's specifications, of which a mini replica was built in Scotland called Roslyn Chapel, complete with Desposyni symbols and anti-Roman sentiment

690BC: The Queen of Sheba visits from Ethiopia and has an illegitimate child with King Solomon, taking the baby back with her where that bloodline remains in power up to this century with the assassination of Hailee Sallassie in 1968, thus explaining the Israelite heritage of that country

686BC: King Rehoboan, the son of King Solomon, takes power of the Israelite kingdom which divides the Twelve Tribes of Israel into the House of Judah as the Southern Kingdom, and the House of Israel as the Northern Kingdom. They war against each other until the ten tribes of the House of Israel flee Palestine during the Diaspora

683BC: The Diaspora, the ten tribes of the House of Israel go to Scythia in the Caucasus in modern-day Georgia where they lived for centuries. These ten tribes are the ancestors of Reuben, Asher, Dan, Naphtali, Benjamin, Issachar, Zebulon, Simeon, Gad, and Joseph who was favored by Jacob-Israel so his two sons Ephraim and Manasseh are included. The House of Israel lived in Scythia where over time they were lost to history, which is why they are referred to as The Ten Lost Tribes of Israel. They finally began migrating to Northern Europe in 331AD

586BC: After an attack on the royal palace, the scribe Jeremiah brings the surviving three daughters of the chosen Royal Zarrah line to Ireland where Princess Tara marries the Celtic king Fergus the Great on the Hill of Tara, bringing the royal line and the red rampant lion to the British Isles

420-365BC: Confucius spreads his message of conscientious morality through the country sides of China leaving a footprint on the character of the world's most populous country

415BC: Greek culture flourishes with centers for learning, sophistry and wisdom, mathematics and geometry, and appreciation for art and applied gymnasia. Their democracy is envied but five out of six Athenians are slaves

405BC: Alexander the Great from Macedonia conquers most of the known world only to stall when facing the impassable Himalayas, but he spreads the Greek language to the Near East bringing ideas and peoples together that produced cultures of splendor long after his untimely death at 33

331BC-449AD: After 800 years of servitude in Scythia, the ten tribes of the House of Israel migrate for the next hundred years to Northern Europe after the Persian Empire fell. Lost to history for centuries, they come to be known as Celts, Scandinavians, Franks and Gauls.

312BC: Plato returns after traveling the known world for 14 years after his teacher Socrates drank hemlock rather than going to jail. Plato founds his school The Academy, which had the words _know thyself_ written over the door

278BC: Gautama Buddha walked away from his life as a rich prince to meditate in the forests for 25 years before returning to spread his wisdom, his followers recording over 86,000 anecdotes and parables to achieve nirvana and mastering the art of not generating _sankaras_ (reactions)

17BC: John the Baptist is born, destined to be the one to announce the Coming of the Messiah. His mother Elizabeth was the sister of Jesus' mother Mary

7BC: Jesus (real name Joshua) is born March 1st in Bethlehem, the same day as Jesus' identical twin brother Jude, known in history as Doubting Thomas, Jude Thomas, Didymus Thomas and the Beloved Disciple

1BC: James is born, known in history as James the Disciple, Joseph of Arimathea and Saint James, or Santiago in Spanish, he is the younger brother of Jesus

6AD: Jesus leaves Palestine at 13 years old that commenced what is called 'The Lost Years of Jesus.' It is believed he went to India where he studied scriptures and learned the art of healing

36AD: Jesus returns to Palestine and is baptized by John the Baptist in the River Jordan. Jesus begins His ministry in earnest, gathering disciples to spread His message, his primary thrust to gather his lost flock: the Lost House of Israel

37AD: Rides into Jerusalem on an ass to fulfill the prophecies in the Book of Isaiah, predicting He will be crucified and rise on the third day

37AD: Pontius Pilate washes his hands and leaves the Fate of Joshua the Nazarene to the ruling Pharisees, asking them who they want him to set free. They choose the prisoner Barabbas over Jesus, and then order His crucifixion. It is on this same Friday that Jesus is hung on a crucifix, ingests snake venom from a sponge handed to Him on the cross concocted by the Disciple Simon Magus, cries out for Elijah and then passes out. The next morning on Saturday, Jesus, who avoided having his legs broken by Roman soldiers because He was believed to be dead, is taken down from the crucifix, a few of His disciples citing the Torah and demanding that any dead Jew must be buried on the Sabbath. Joseph of Arimathea is granted permission to remove Jesus' body and puts him in a newly made stone tomb on the family's property

37AD: On Sunday Pilate orders the tomb sealed to avoid martyrdom, and rioting of followers of Jesus. The next day two men see Jesus walking on the road, only realizing later that it was Him

37AD: Later that week Jesus meets His disciples and is challenged by Doubting Thomas whether He is alive or a ghost, but Jesus proves he is flesh and blood, telling them He is hungry.

38AD: Jesus disappears from Palestine. It is rumored that He followed his identical twin brother Jude Thomas to Syria, Mesopotamia and then to northern India

40-50AD: Mary Magdalene takes her three children to Marseilles in France, beginning what becomes the legend of the Black Madonna

56AD: Britain finally comes under the yoke of the Roman Empire but efforts to subdue the Scots fail, eventually causing Emperor Hadrian to construct a wall along the northern border of England

66-70AD: Simon Kokhbar's rebellion is crushed by Roman soldiers, ending agitation and simmering tensions between the Hebrews and Romans

78AD: Jesus is believed to have died of old age in Kashmir Valley where he lived with his twin brother Jude Thomas at a monastery

50-80AD: The missing "Q" Document is written, believed to be The Gospel of Thomas, which was discovered in 1945

90-170AD: The New Testament was compiled, using the Gospels of Matthew, Luke, Mark and John as the official canon of Jesus' message, all of them citing the source "Q" Document as their source. Jesus and His disciples long gone, none of them had ever seen Jesus

90-140AD: Saul, the _pseudapostolorum_ known in history as Paul, has his conversion and dedicates himself to promoting a slightly different message of Jesus. This begins the tampering of His real message, the new strain of thought is known as Pauline Christianity

228AD: Israelites from the Ten Lost Tribes of Israel begin leaving southern Russia to settle in Northern Europe

200-300AD: Rome's armies cannot bring the fierce Germanic Tribes under their control

325AD: The Roman Emperor Constantine the Great at the Council of Nicaea votes to make Jesus the product of a virgin birth, the Son of God and votes to create the Trinity

410: The Visigoths sack Rome and then settle in southern Gaul and Spain

400-664: Celtic Christianity flourishes in Ireland and then Scotland, warrior monks trained by Saint Columba pilgrimage to Europe every year eventually founding over forty monasteries in France, Germany and Switzerland, often heard playing bagpipes all the way to the Mediterranean

450: The Angles and Saxons and Juts finish settling in the British Isles with their Celtic cousins

468: The Roman Empire collapses into two entities, the West and the East, never to reunite into the strong governing force it once was. Some speculate the reason for its downfall running out of firewood from chopping down Europe's forests

664: The Synod of Whitby was the beginning of the end for Celtic Christianity, once as strong as Rome but differing in beliefs

694: Muhammad emerges as the prophet for God's untainted message, the last prophet and the correct message as it is recorded in the Koran

700-1000: Vikings dominate trade and sea routes, establishing bases in Dublin, Sicily, and modern-day Chechnya, sometimes acting as policemen for the Silk Road

711: Spain is taken over by the Moors of North Africa

878: Attila the Hun attacks Europe and conquers Hungary, which for the first time in European history unites Europeans against a foreign foe

889: A Swedish Viking tribe called the Rus sail down the Volga River and take control of Moscow, which is where the word 'Russia' comes from

892: Charles Martel, the grandfather of Charlemagne, leads an army against a Muslim attack designed to take over Europe

925: Danish Vikings led by Rollo begin the Siege of Paris, surrounding the city for a year until the French King grants them a piece of land they call Normandy

969: After concerted effort by Danish Vikings attacking and plundering coastal towns along the eastern coast of Britain, an agreement is reached whereby _Danelaw_ came into effect, giving the Vikings their own rule in the towns they had taken

1062-1064: Norse Vikings live in Canada on Newfoundland at _Lanse-de-Meadows_ , which they call Vinland. They leave after only two years

1065: The Knights Hospitaller is created to help pilgrims hurt or in need on their way to the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem

1066: The Norman Conquest of England led by William the Conqueror from Normandy

1099: The First Crusade begins from Saint Sulpice in northern France, inspired by the spiritual father Saint Bernard de Clairvaux, and led by the Merovingian Hughes de Payens

1100: King Baldwin the First is crowned King of Jerusalem but dies after a year, the crown taken over by his crusader brother Godfrei de Boullion

1106: The Nine Worthies of the First Crusade find hidden sacred geometry after digging for seven years under King Solomon's stables in Jerusalem, ushering in a new era of church construction and castle building

1109: The Knights Templar are created, and given special privileges by the Pope. They secretly believe in the True Message of Jesus

1137: Pope Innocent the Second issues a bull Christianae fidei religio that enables the _Knights of the Hospital_ 'to accumulate both land and money. The Hospital of St. John, as it was also known, lend monies to King Louis VII of France for the disastrous Second Crusade

1157: The Cathars on the southeast coast of Spain on the Bay of Lyon are massacred for Gnosticism, which was anathema to the dogma established by Rome

1215: The Magna Carta is finished that took an inventory of the wealth of the country, its resources and holdings

1224: The Prior de Sion is formed by ex-crusaders and Merovingian royalty to protect the True Message of God as preached by Jesus the Nazarene

1307: Dagobert the Third, the last of the Merovingian Long-Haired Kings, is assassinated by soldiers sent by the Catholic Church

1315: The Knights Templar are excommunicated by Pope Clement the Fifth and burnt on the stake on Friday the 13th, some escaping to Scotland. The Templars had become a powerful bank by lending large sums to Rome

1325: The Scots defeat the English at the Battle of Stamford Bridge to protect their sovereignty after decades of forays into Scottish territory to take their land

1415: Henry the Fifth scores a brilliant victory over the French at the Battle of Agincourt when his fletchers with long bows decimate the French troops

1466: The Spanish Inquisition forces non-Christians to convert or confess or be burnt at the stake, a smokescreen to kick out Sepheratic Jews from the country

1492: The Italian Christopher Columbus reaches America, and Spain kick the Moors back to North Africa after 700 years of occupation

1525: William Caxton invents the printing press that makes the Bible and other works of religion and philosophy available to the reading layman

1526-1528: Francisco Coronado explores the interior of America up as far as Idaho in his search for gold in el Dorado

1527: Martin Luther posts his beefs on a church door beginning the Protestant Reformation and the Thirty-Year's War that kills nearly one-third of Europe's population. Many look to Rome for leadership but they only see overt militancy and oppression causing towns and cities to fall apart in an orgy of bloodshed

1537: The Conquistador Pizarro conquers the Incas and the Spanish build an empire in South America searching for gold and burning valuable manuscripts from the ancients

1560-1616: The works of Shakespeare change the landscape of literature and English culture, his portfolio of plays being compiled nine years after his death by his fellow actors

1565: Martin Luther translates the Holy Bible into German, marking the first breach from Rome and the beginning of its loss of power

1566: Francisco de Orellana becomes the first European to cross South America down the Amazon River. After being attacked by female warriors, Orellana names the river the Amazon from the Greek word meaning 'female warriors'

1581: The Renaissance is in full swing after Galileo publishes his theory of the Earth's orbit and Leonardo da Vinci paints the Mona Lisa, the Last Supper, and the Sistine Chapel in Rome. Da Vinci also becomes president of the Prior de Sion

1595: Sir Walter Raleigh founds the British colony of Virginia after the Virgin Queen Elizabeth, vowing to dedicate himself to the greater glory of Britain only to end up a prisoner in the Tower of London for nearly ten years for making advances on the wrong courtesan in the royal palace

1615: The Jesuits are created by Saint Francis of Assisi that will serve God, deliver His Message and help build new communities throughout newly conquered Catholic lands

1616: Vasco de Gamma sails around the Cape of Good Hope and establishes a Portuguese colony in Goa, India making it Europe's first colony in Asia

1625: New France is founded in Canada by Samuel de Champlain, fulfilling the Israelite prophecy of finding _La Merica_ , or "the place beyond the sea," which they called The Promised Land

1642: James Cook discovers Australia and the west coast of America by circumnavigating the Pacific Ocean before he is killed by an arrow in Hawaii

1644: The French mathematician Rene Descartes postulates the foundation of new Western philosophical thought with the words: "I think therefore I am," prompting David Hume to write his influential _An Inquiry Into Human Understanding_ , the book that awakens Immanuel Kant from his "dogmatic slumber"

1647: Father Jean de Brebeuf becomes a martyr at the hands of hostile Mohawks invading Lake Huron in Canada with Dutch supplied guns, his courage in the face of such savagery unmatched in the Vatican records in the book _Jesuit Relations_

1648: Henry the Eighth breaks from Rome and establishes England's own Anglican Church. This opens the doors to countless denominations of Christian thought

1649: The Jesuit Paul Rageneau establishes a Jesuit mission on Manitoulin Island where Lake Huron and Georgian Bay meet. This mission on the world's largest freshwater lake in the center of the Great Lakes makes it the farthest European outpost in the New World

1664: Miguel Cervantes publishes _Don Quixote_ , the first and one of the best novels the world has ever seen

1666: The Great Fire of London destroyed most of the city but also helped eradicate the disastrous Bubonic Plague that had raged for three years on its shores killing untold millions

1668: Dante publishes _Paradise Lost_ , taking literature to new heights and confronting the dogma of Roman Catholic rule

1670: The founding of the Hudson's Bay Company by Pierre Radisson, opening up the Canadian west to fur traders and explorers. From these trading posts the British name all land west Prince Rupert's Land, named after the king's cousin and friend of explorer Pierre Radisson

1679: The Hanseatic League is formed by the two most powerful sea-faring countries in the world, the British and the Dutch. Created to manage different spheres of influence on the waterways and in world trade, it is regarded as a forerunner of the United Nations

1689: The Salem Witch Hunts reach a fervor in the Thirteen Colonies, in an astonishing flurry of ad hoc justice by priests rumored to be wired on _ergot_ : the mould on rye bread

1699: The assumption of power by the House of Hanover in Great Britain

1701: The passing of the Land Act to encourage nobility to settle Northern Ireland, a crucial geo-political stronghold in the Irish Sea and economic windfall from its ship-building expertise and whiskey distilleries

1720-1802: Immanuel Kant evolves Western philosophical thought with books such as _The Critique of Pure Reason_ , the first explicit argument for the Big Bang theory

1740-1776: A wave of Puritans and Quakers escaping religious oppression become pioneers in the Promised Land, creating the backbone of New England

1756: A the Battle of the Plains of Abraham, the British defeat the French to take control of New France, founding Upper Canada and Lower Canada

1776: Thomas Payne fuels the fire of rebellion with his pamphlet on human rights that culminates in the American Revolution, seen as the maturing of the New World with a progressive new style of governance

1798: The French Revolution begins a new epoch of democratic republics after more revolutionary efforts from Thomas Payne

1804-1882: Arthur Schopenhauer developed his book _The World As Will and Idea_ for the rest of his life after earning his doctorate in Germany, finally getting the recognition he deserved from the leading thinkers of his time two years before his death

1805-1812: With zeal and tactical brilliance, Napoleon Bonaparte conquers most of Europe while emulating Merovingian Kings by adopting the bee as his official symbol and wearing his hair long. Thwarted by the Duke of Wellington in costly campaigns in the Pyrenees, Napoleon is still able to lay waste to the continent, killing so many men that the average height of a Frenchman went from six feet to five-foot five after the wars. He eventually loses his last effort to take power in 1815, and dies young on the island of Corsica from arsenic in his hair lotion

1812-1813: The War of 1812 causes over 70,000 Empire Loyalists to cross into the dominion of Canada to fight for the King. The British with their native allies defeat the Americans effort to take control of the entire continent, winning the war after a decisive battle at Fort George on the Niagara River

1823: British Forces fought the First Boxer Rebellion in China that opens the way to establishing trading posts on Shamian Island. The Thirteen Colonists took possession of the island in the Pearl River to conduct trade

1824: Joseph Smith Senior is guided by God to uncover buried gold tablets in Upstate New York. After fulfilling his promise to secure witnesses he reburied the gold tablets and started the Mormon religion first in Ohio. Killed while trying to escape jail, his deputy Brigham Young took the young devotees to Salt Lake City in Utah where it has become the fastest growing religion in the world

1834-1839: The Irish Potato Famine forces millions of Irish to emigrate to colonies. The Irish who went forth to begin a new life changed the demographics of the globe forever

1844-1900: Friedrich Nietzsche overturns old conventions of morality and philosophizes with a hammer in his works like _Thus Spake Zarathustra_ , _Twilight of the Idols_ and _The Antichrist_ before his mental and physical breakdown from syphilis at the age of 45

1847: The Vatican dismantles the Jesuits that cause black robes around the world to abandon immaculate churches and centers of enlightenment to robbers and _ransackers_

1858: Charles Darwin elects to horseback across the cowboy plains of southern Argentina in an act of fearless investigation of natural science, but he is bitten by an insect that weakens him for the rest of his life. Fortunate to have an inheritance, he works from home on two books that hasten the paradigm of religious thought

1860-1865: The American Civil War produces more deaths than any war in history, leaving the country weak and divided. After the violence ceased they saw France take over Mexico for four years under Maximillian the First

1867: George Custer is ordered to enter the sacred Black Hills of the Sioux and Dakota tribes insisting there is gold to be found. This one act stirs up resentment to a fever pitch that would profoundly affect the future of the country and the lives of Custer and the Sioux

1869: Darwin publishes _Origin of the Species_ that creates vehement debate among fundamentalist Christians who believe in the Story of Creation, and independent thinkers

1870-1890: The American West opens up to settlers, transforming the country and displacing millions of Native Americans

1871: After the Franco-Prussian War sees the emergence of the nation of Germany that was to change the face of Europe

1872: The Colt pistol is invented, a six-round shooter that takes the evolution of warfare one step ahead

1876: The Battle at Little Big Horn horrifies the country after years of killing when General George Custer and 216 of his men were killed to the last man. Both Crazy Horse and Sitting Bull respected Custer for his courage, he was the only soldier not to be scalped.

1882: The Canadian Pacific Railway is completed that connects the Atlantic to the Pacific and provides a much-needed transportation route to British Columbia, which the Americans want to take after acquiring Alaska from the Russians

1883: Kit Carson, Brigadier General during the Civil War, is given the task of subduing the mighty Navaho Indians from their stronghold in Arizona, which he accomplishes in less than a year and a half by burning their crops. Respected by the natives and fluent in many local dialects, the Navaho Chief approached him alone on his horse and said: "Otter, you are an honorable white eye. You have fought a smart campaign. We are hungry and have no more food. Where do we go brave man?" The Navaho went to a reservation and the war was won without one casualty

1890: The Battle of Wounded Knee ended the Native American's fight against the waves of immigrants and signified an end to their way of life. The stubborn Sioux, Blackfoot and Arapaho reluctantly entered into life on a reservation with sub-par government support

1895: Ancient goldmines in Zimbabwe are discovered that historians believe are thousands of years older than Sumerian civilization

1898: Japan takes over the Chinese province of Taiwan, taking the first step towards its goal of colonial expansion in Asia

1898: The Spanish-American War ends when America gains control of many Spanish holdings in the New World such as Texas and New Mexico, as well as the Philippines in Asia

1899-1902: The Boer War starts the century of warfare with brutal violence for control of the vast mineral wealth of South Africa. The British introduce concentration camps into war vernacular, where entire families of Boers, mainly women and children, die from disease and malnutrition

1903: Americans take control of the Panama Canal from the French who are over budget and having technical difficulty completing the project, and in doing so gain one of the most valuable and profitable waterways in the world

1904: Thomas Edison creates the light bulb which changed the way people live after receiving over a thousand refusal letters. "It was the invention of the light bulb in a thousand steps," he said

1905: The French invent the kinescope, the precursor to the new art form of feature film. It opens a new channel of communication further eroding Rome's hold over the distribution of information and morality

1914-1918: The Great War brings men to new heights of terror with poison gas and trenches, but the Canadian Army came to age when it took the strategic stronghold of Vimy Ridge in three days, suffering 12,000 casualties compared to French efforts that cost over 280,000 lives during a five-month battle. Canadian Forces earned the nickname _Stormtroopers_ by their German foe

1917-1918: Lawrence of Arabia proves his mettle and manipulates the "sideshow" of the war to bring the land and power back into Arab hands, bitterly disappointed after the war when he hears of the Sykes-Picot agreement that distributes the land back into the hands of the French and the British. Lawrence retires from the rank of colonel to work as a mechanic in the air force. He dies from a motorcycle accident only weeks after retiring to his cottage in the country

1919: The Spanish flu kills over 19 million people around the world

1919-1936: The Volstead Act brings a criminal underworld to the surface, supplying the raging thirst of settlers tired of authority

1923: The Wright Brothers successfully test an airplane that overturns the old ways of travel

1926: Albert Einstein publishes his _Theory of Relativity_ that suggests time travel is possible

1928: The Rosetta Stone is found in Egypt with Latin, Greek and Hieroglyphics etched into it, enabling archaeologists to translate countless slabs of stone.

1936: The Nazca Plains are discovered by a pilot in a helicopter when flying over southern Peru. Archaeologists are dumbfounded to discover an ingredient in the white chalk outlining the images etched into the earth is non-indigenous to earth

1939-1945: World War Two destroys lives, countries and people's hopes, leaving only carnage and blood after six years of fighting, ending with the awesome power of the atomic bomb and never finding Martin Bormann

1939: A Russian pilot flying over Mount Arafat sees a large boat sticking out of the ice on the side of the mountain, thinking it must be Noah's Ark, but subsequent searches yield nothing. It is believed snowfall obscured it from the naked eye

1949: Chinese nationalist forces lose mainland China to the communists led by Mao Zedong, leaving for Taiwan and vowing to retake the country. Before they left the army of Chen-Kai-Shek looted the banks and withdrew cultural relics from museums, leaving nothing behind

1950-1952: The Korean War erupted with China supporting the north and America supporting the south, a struggle to contain the spread of communism that still remains a live war

1952: The first computer was built by Alan Turing that would evolve into the personal computer. The Internet Age arrives thirty years later bringing the world's largest library to your fingertips

1954: The Battle of Dien Bien Phu ended with the French defeat at the hands of the Viet Mingh, ending French rule in Indochina after over 150 years

1956-1960: The Cultural Revolution in the People's Republic of China destroys temples and pagodas in an effort to secure communist power and get rid of icons that might compete with Mao's mighty word. Neighbors turn on neighbors as the fabric of society is torn apart

1962: The Russians launch Sputnik, boggling minds around the world that a satellite was orbiting the earth but also showing that space above our heads is free to use if you have the technology

1964: L Ron Hubbard publishes the first book on Scientology, a spiritual testament to the effective use of scientific method in the investigation to quell ills of the spirit

1965: India is given back self-rule by the British but draws a line on the map to separate Hindus and Muslims along the Indian-Pakistan border that results in millions being killed in a bloodbath of revenge and religious hatred

1969: Neil Armstrong becomes the first man to walk on the moon, conveyed to the world space travel is possible and a moon station is not a pipe dream

1973: Authors of _Holy Blood, Holy Grail_ discover a hidden scroll in a church column in Rennes-de-Chateau, which ushers in a new era in the decimation of Rome's power

1975-1978: The Great Leap Forward fails miserably, starving tens of millions of Chinese from insufficient food supplies and bad central planning

1982: The bestseller Holy Blood, Holy Grail was published to a storm of criticism throughout the world, making the front page and stirring people to outrage at the revelations of secret societies and other truths that exist in the face of Rome's oppression

1987: Similar to the Rosetta Stone, archaeologists discover a stone with three languages that provides a cipher to translate thousands of cuneiform tablets found in old Sumer, one Sumerian word directly translating as: " _vehicle going up to the sky_ "

1989: The human genome project is declared a success, and biologists predict the genome will be decoded within twenty years that will open doors to cures for ailments that still beset mankind

1997: El Niño announces to the world that environmental destruction and irresponsible corporate polluting are directly affecting weather systems and the ecological balance that nurtures mankind. It foreshadows a world littered with toxic debris that will cause a long list of diseases

2001: The World Trade Towers, the symbol of global cooperation and informed debate, is destroyed by terrorist bombings that cause America to become militant. No longer a free nation, homeland security laws turn the once-loved country into a combat zone, festering from within and disliked on the international stage

2002: SARS, originating from southern China from the unhygienic chicken breeding methods of the industrious Chinese, spreads across the world closing down universities and showing the world that everyone now lives in an age where all is interconnected

2002-2010: America's war on terror is revealed as a smokescreen for a propaganda putsch against Muslims, stirring up resentments and hatreds that will ripple for decades. It has bankrupted the country; the government does not have enough money to pay their citizens pensions, which has produced fear of instability and has raised questions about the effectiveness of laissez-faire economics

2009: A nuclear disaster in Japan leaves the world stunned as immeasurable amounts of radioactive waste escapes from a plant polluting Asia and America, killing untold thousands

2010: Swiss scientists successfully split the electron and they discover that when all parts of the smashed electrons are collected and weighed, there is an inexplicable loss of mass, suggesting there is an unknowable or unquantifiable ingredient on our cells that call the _God Particle._

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# Notes on the Abramic Line diagram

Joseph was Jacob's favorite son, was prophesized to establish a commonwealth of nations, and symbolized the Ten Lost Tribes with the unicorn.

The tribe of Benjamin also settled Normandy. Also, the tribe of Asher settled both Belgium and modern-day Luxemburg, and some of the tribe of Dan landed in Ireland known in history as the Tribe de Dannaan.

As Judah's sons it was important who was born first for inheritance and destiny. There was a "breach" when the twin Zarrah came out first but went back into the womb, but before Zarrah went back in the nurse tied a red string around his finger to mark the first born. The Royal Zarrah line was saved when Jeremiah took the surviving three daughters to Ireland in 583BC, including the Stone of Destiny, otherwise known as Jacob's Pillow.

Fergus the Great, a Celtic King who married into the Royal Zarrah Line through Princess Tara, was a descendent of the tribe of Dan who settled Ireland's north after the Diaspora in 683BC known in Irish history as the Tribe de Dannaan. Tara and her mother Scota brought the symbol of the red lion to the British Isles and when the Scots, who got their name from Tara's mother Scota, moved from Ireland to Scotland when they took over the Picts, kept the royal line until James the Sixth became James the First of Great Britain in 1567.

The House of Judah consists of the descendants of the tribes of Judah and Levy (Levites), the modern-day Jews. Both kingdoms fought each other for over 200 years until the Assyrian invasion when the ten tribes of the northern kingdom left Palestine and were called the Ten Lost Tribes of Israel.

The House of Israel consists of Simeon (Celts), Joseph (Britons), Gad (Swiss), Naphtali (Swedes), Issachar (Saxons), Dan (Danes), Zebulun (Dutch), Reuben (Gauls), Asher (Belgique), and Benjamin (Vikings). These ten tribes are the Ten Lost Tribes of Israel once lost in Scythia (southern Russia).

Known as James the Disciple, Joseph of Arimathea and Jesus's younger brother James, he moved to the British Isles after Jesus' crucifixion where his daughter Anna married a Scottish King that started the Arimatheic Line. He moved there because there was already an existing Israelite base vis-à-vis the Fisher King line as told in the Book of Jeremiah. Also, because he was born in September, James inherited the title Joseph as the legitimate male heir.

Otherwise known as Didymus Thomas, Doubting Thomas, The Beloved Disciple and Jude the Twin, Jude Thomas was the identical twin brother of Jesus.

For the first time in history, after nearly 500 years through the marriage of King Arthur and Guinevere, the two royal lines of Jesus reunited (the Arimatheic Line and the Fisher King Line), making Arthur the hope of establishing a kingdom (Camelot) as Jesus had hoped, but Arthur, after siding with the Romans, was killed by his son Brantooth in a two-day battle. Brantooth, who was also killed, had a daughter Deborah who was lost to historical record.

The Merovingian Kings ruled France for over 600 years until Dagobert was assassinated by soldiers sent by the Roman Catholic Church.

A threat to Rome by virtue of their bloodline, the families of the royal blood went underground but intermarried to keep the bloodline pure, which today constitute the nobility of Royal houses of Europe. Most of the Desposyni settled northern France and Scotland. In defiance to Rome's power they began publishing Grail lore using metaphor, the Holy Grail meaning she who carries the blood of Jesus, therefore knights searching for women of the holy blood.

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