Well In Time Part 30

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I looked at her in incomprehension, without the smallest notion of what she meant by her words. I began to ask for clarification but Sa Tahuti laid her finger across my lips.

"Shhhhhh, now. You must sleep. You have worked very, very hard today. Tomorrow we will talk and I will answer all your questions-even the ones to which there is no answer." She smiled mysteriously, laid her hand across my eyes, and in an instant, I slept.

In the night, I had a strange, disturbing dream. I seemed to be in the body of a boy child and I was wandering in the dark, frightened and weary. All around me, voices echoed but I could make out only the barest shadows of moving beings, and the language these shadow people spoke was unknown to me. Lights flared and flashed randomly and nowhere in this dream could I find comfort.

I awoke in tears to find Sa Tahuti sitting beside my bed. I told her the dream, sobbing, "I have a terrible feeling that I am witnessing my poor G.o.dfrey in h.e.l.l!"

Sa Tahuti soothed me with gentle words and kindly strokes along my brow, saying, "No, no, dear Blanche. It is nothing of the kind. You are beginning to remember, that is all. Quiet yourself, now, and as soon as you have broken your fast, I will explain to you what you have seen in the night."



Then began a part of my adventure that to this day astonishes me, although I doubt not that it is true, so vivid were my memories and so cogent were the explanations of Sa Tahuti regarding them. For she explained to me that, in her presence and guided by her great power, I was beginning to recall a life in which I had known her before-in the person of the older son of the very Pharaoh who had fled from Philae, so many centuries before!

That day, Sa Tahuti invoked in me a trance and, with her voice as guide, I wandered again in the darkness of the cave. I felt the loving presence of my parents and their servants and experienced again the terrible grief of losing my baby brother-only to have him live again as an uncanny child, the infant Sau Tahuti.

"Your brother is one of those valiant souls who incarnates again and again, with the sole purpose of bringing the souls of those he loves to fuller spiritual awareness. When he dives back into the Other World, he is as confident as you are when pa.s.sing through a simple doorway," Sa Tahuti told me. "Although you grieve for him, there is really no need to do so. He has agreed, before he ever entered life, to come to your aid and then depart."

"Which brother, in which life?" I asked, confused.

"In both."

"Are you telling me," I asked in astonishment, "that G.o.dfrey is the same soul as the Pharaoh's baby?"

Sa Tahuti smiled. "Yes, Blanche. That is what I am telling you."

But why would his death, and the grief with which it had harrowed me, serve me? I could not understand how such suffering would be beneficial, nor why my beloved brother would choose to put me through such anguish. Sa Tahuti was patient with my protestations and answered them calmly.

"Such grief as you have known is like the blow to an egg against the side of a bowl. Until the hard sh.e.l.l of total identification with the ego is broken, one can never truly love, any more than one can cook with an unbroken egg.

"And sometimes it happens that the most effective way to accomplish this access to love is to lose it. Fierce as was your devotion to G.o.dfrey on the pilgrimage and sea voyage, you did not truly love him until you saw him naked upon the slave block. Then your heart broke and with that breaking, love flooded in."

As much as I desired to resist this line of reasoning, I knew in my heart that Sa Tahuti spoke the truth. I had been bound to G.o.dfrey by bonds of duty and honor, until the instant of his ultimate helplessness in the slave market. The rush of grief and loss which swept over me then was a great wave of love, against the power of which I was completely helpless.

Sa Tahuti continued gently, "Was it not the same with the one you call your Savior? When he was most helpless upon the cross, was he not most powerful? In breaking the hearts of his followers, did he not open the floodgates of their deepest love and longing?"

I had to yield, then, to Sa Tahuti's superior understanding. All that day and for many to follow, she spoke to me of the laws of life by which the whole universe is governed. Much that she imparted was lost to my child's understanding, but much remains with me to this day, and indeed, will do so until my dying breath. Most vividly do I remember her closing remarks.

"Always remember and never forget, dear Blanche, that the universe turns upon the axle of love. Love is the horse that draws it and love is the wheel. And love is the road upon which the great wheel of the universe travels. All is love. Nothing exists but by the power of love. To attain the ability to love is worth any hards.h.i.+p, any suffering, any grief. Every tear you shed lubricates the great, cycling wheel of being that is love and love only. Never, ever forget this."

With these words our long and rich audience drew to a close. By this time, Sa Tahuti, despite her physical appearance, was transformed in my eyes. I knew her with my heart to be a being of infinite age, wisdom, and power. I was in awe of her and yet also felt her to be my dearest and most intimate friend. How this can be cannot be explained by human discourse. Sa Tahuti was and is a miracle for which there are no words. It seemed there could be no further gift that she could give me, and yet, that is what now transpired.

"I have something that I will pa.s.s into your keeping, Blanche de Muret," she said solemnly. "It is an object of great antiquity. Two thousand years before the birth of the one you call the Christ, it was made by hands that knew the magic from the beginning of the world."

She rose from her divan and went to a table where sat a small chest inlaid with ivory and precious stones. Raising the lid, she withdrew something, which she clasped in her palm and then raised to her lips in a reverential kiss. Then, turning to me, she spoke in a voice that shocked me with the power of its command.

"Rise, Blanche de Muret! Receive your due. I place this jewel upon you as a token of the esteem and holy love of the Great Mother."

So saying, she slipped over my head and around my neck a chain of gold, upon which depended a locket of wondrous beauty. I began to stammer my thanks but Sa Tahuti silenced me.

"Be still! You have no idea what has been entrusted to you. No thanks of yours can encompa.s.s the magnitude of this gift."

I was taken aback, for the sweetness of Sa Tahuti's demeanor had transformed, in those instants, to something terrible and stern. I felt a huge presence fill the room, pulsing against the walls, invisible but entirely palpable. Whatever it was, it seemed to be using Sa Tahuti as its voice. Her entire body shuddered with the force of the words that spoke through her.

"I lay upon you today both a gift and a burden, Blanche de Muret. This locket, small and cunningly made as it is, contains the seed power of the universe; a tear of the Great Mother; the Egg of Fate. You will keep it with you always. You will wear it daily. You will learn from it as you have learned at the knee of Sa Tahuti. And when your time comes to cross over to the next world, you will pa.s.s it on to your descendants and they to theirs, through an unbroken lineage."

My entire body began to stream with sweat, and I shook like a dry leaf in the first wind of autumn. I felt both deepest, most humble grat.i.tude and a crus.h.i.+ng weight that descended upon my heart like a millstone. The locket burned against the skin of my breast like a coal.

"There will be times when the gift must pa.s.s to a male heir. He is never to wear the locket, only to keep it safe until it can be pa.s.sed to one who is worthy. The locket itself will choose. Never fret. The locket knows its own course. It was set at the beginning of the world and nothing can alter its trajectory through time and s.p.a.ce. You are one blessed by the Great Mother, Blanche de Muret. Go in peace."

With that, the voice ceased. The immense pressure of living energy diminished and then faded from the room, leaving me weak and shaken. Even Sa Tahuti seemed momentarily overcome.

We stood for many minutes in silence, each, I am sure, collecting herself again after so shattering a visitation. I thought, then, of Moses and the burning bush; of Mary at the Annunciation; and of Mary Magdalene meeting the risen Savior in the garden. It seemed not possible that one such as I, a mere girl and a lost one at that, might receive direct commune with G.o.d and yet, so it seemed to have happened.

At last Sa Tahuti spoke, her voice returned to its usual sweetness, but not without a tremor trembling through it.

"You have received an incalculable blessing today, Blanche de Muret. And an incalculable burden. From this day forward you are an emissary of the Great Mother. She has spoken."

I do not know what moved me to argue philosophy with Sa Tahuti at that moment. It was as if the locket itself demanded that I speak my truth, difficult as it was.

"But Sa Tahuti," I exclaimed, "in Christian thought, all are beings of free will! If this task is imposed on me, how then can it be other than that my free will is violated?"

Sa Tahuti nodded with complete understanding.

"You have spoken well, Blanche. What you must understand is that time is much greater than you imagine, as are the dimensions of reality. You have agreed to take on this task in this life, but you have forgotten because you made this contract in the world between worlds, where souls go between earthly incarnations."

Then I understood that she spoke the truth. I felt in the depths of my being that this locket and its fate were inextricably intertwined with my life, and that this was a situation in which my heart and soul were completely complicit.

I gazed at Sa Tahuti with this dawning understanding. Our eyes met and held, and I knew that our time together had come to an end.

Gently, Sa Tahuti embraced me and I her, and it shocked me to feel how slender and small was her body. Why, I was taller than she! I felt I held a younger child than I in my arms, and it was not until I stepped back and again met her gaze that I felt the renewal of awe at her very being. She smiled then, graciously and with perfect understanding.

"I am as is the Great Mother, Blanche-ever ancient, ever young."

So saying, she took me by my elbow and steered me toward the door. I went unresistingly, but with great sadness pouring into my heart, like water into a vessel. Beyond the linen curtain of the doorway, Allia stood in the antechamber, waiting patiently.

"Here is our sister, fresh from her initiation," Sa Tahuti said to her.

Sa Tahuti took both my hands in hers, looked deep into my eyes and said, "Do not be sad, child. We are never far parted and when we are, we must hold the hope ever green in our hearts of our coming together once more. We shall meet again. Over and over again, we consecrate ourselves to the work."

"What work is that?" I gasped, for I was close to tears "Why, the work of bringing love into a loveless world, of course!" With that, she kissed me most sweetly, full on the mouth, then turned and with a flick of the curtain, disappeared.

I stood with my hand to my lips, for her kiss had imparted such powerful energy there that it left me stunned. I understood in those instants what the Scriptures mean by an holy kiss.

I barely felt Allia's hand as she took me by the elbow and guided me back the way we had come. I moved as one in a daze, but a pleasant one, misted in the scent of orange blossoms and dazzled by sunlight.

Gradually, I became aware that we were in a part of the cave where I had never been. This awareness came through my feet, for they suddenly informed me that we were ascending.

Coming out of my trance, I looked around in confusion. The cave was just giving way to a manmade tunnel, neither broad nor high, yet not terribly confining either. It was apparent that we were climbing, as if up a steep ramp.

Allia was in the lead, pulling me along by my hand. I sensed both an urgency and a lightheartedness in her.

"Where are you taking me at such a great rate?" I teased.

"Great rate?" Allia shot back. "You are as balky as an old donkey! You may as well be sleepwalking."

We laughed together and I felt a sudden influx of such joyous energy that I could scarcely contain myself.

"Where are you dragging this old donkey to then, Allia?"

"Well you should ask. We are almost there. Just around this corner and..." She smiled mysteriously and tugged me onward so that we were almost trotting. We rounded a corner and a short length down the tunnel, were confronted by a ma.s.sive wooden door.

"Here we are, then, Blanche de Muret. The threshold to your new life. Are you ready?"

Not having the slightest idea what I should be ready for, I yet a.s.sented. "Yes," I said boldly, for my heart was leaping with joy for no reason that I could ascertain, "I am ready!"

With that, Allia swung the portal open and a great, burning, dazzling ray of suns.h.i.+ne shot into the tunnel! I was on the surface!

I stepped forth into the courtyard of the safe house, greeted by the scent of flowers, the songs of birds, and the laughter of children. And who should my sun-dazed eyes see, rus.h.i.+ng toward me with arms open wide to greet me, but my beloved Caspar, King of Nubia!

I sank into his arms like a bird returning to its nest. There are no words for the joy I felt. All I can say is that the Great Mother had prepared for me a day that healed the last of my woes, for no sorrow can dwell where such joy lives.

Paris

Calypso stopped for a sip of water. "Still with me?" she asked, glancing at her companions. The two men nodded and she took up the ma.n.u.script once again. " Here we go then. We're almost done."

The Story of Comte Henri Charlemagne de MontMaran Continues

"And that, my dear Maria-Elena, is enough of that for one night-which I fear is actually now morning. Are you still alive?"

The Count's voice, although gravelly with use, was lighthearted, even gay, as he slapped the cover down on his bound edition of Blanche de Muret's testimony.

"Yes, Monsieur le Comte, I am indeed!" Maria-Elena sat forward in her chair so that he might see her face by the firelight. "That is the most entirely compelling story I ever have heard!"

"Yes, it is extraordinary. So much so that, when Blanche de Muret was returned to France by her Egyptian friends, she was scarcely believed-which of course is why she wrote this testament in the first place. The Inquisition had not quite yet begun in earnest, you understand, but it was not too soon for the church to level charges of heresy against her."

"Oh, dear! That poor girl. What a life of upheaval she led! What became of her?"

"She stood trial. It has come down through family legend that she defended herself quite ably, but was bound for prison, despite that. It was her Cathar heritage, of course, that worked against her. But then a quite astonis.h.i.+ng thing happened: charges were suddenly dropped. Not another word of accusation was leveled at her."

"How could that be?"

"It seems that a certain young man had listened carefully to her testimony and was convinced of her innocence. The young man was impressed, we are told, by her brilliance and her skill at argumentation. Day after day of the trial, she beat back the arguments of the prosecution with splendidly reasoned defenses. Of course, it also did not hurt that she had grown to become a very beautiful young woman!"

"Did the young man rescue her?"

"Yes, in a sense. He did not scale fortress walls and carry her away by night on horseback, if that is what you mean. But he was the first and favorite son of a family of immense influence in the realm. There was nothing his father would not have done to grant his son's every wish.

"The life of a poor simple girl was nothing to him, but as it meant a great deal to his son, the father used his power and authority to intercede on behalf of Blanche de Muret. Even the Archbishop dared not intervene, as the father gave generously to the church. And so, Blanche was saved from certain torture and imprisonment and a slow and terrible death."

"But what happened then? Did they fall in love?"

"Sadly, no. The boy was already betrothed to the daughter of another powerful lord. It was a match that was to unite two feuding fiefdoms and so must be consummated. The two did, however, correspond throughout their lives and were, as far as I can tell, the best of friends. And Blanche did find a mate, obviously, or I would not be here to tell this tale.

"She was wooed by a young man from a good, solid family and she accepted his advances. They had five children. It is all written in the family records. Four were boys and one, a girl. As you can imagine, it was the girl who inherited the locket upon her mother's death. She and Blanche were my ever-so-many-great-grandmothers."

Maria-Elena sat on the edge of her chair and faced him fully.

"This locket, Monsieur le Comte-Blanche makes record of having received it but she never describes it. What did it look like? Was it a thing of great beauty?"

The old man drew in a breath and let it out very slowly, as if he were summoning his courage. He nodded his head, as if listening to an internal prompt or argument. When his eyes met Maria-Elena's, they had lost their merriment and were dark pools of sadness.

"Well, you may ask, Maria-Elena," he said.

Hefting himself to his feet without another word, he crossed the room on bowed and spindly legs to a small table. On it sat a box inlaid with ivory and precious stones.

"This casket traveled with Blanche from Egypt," he said, lifting the box. "Who knows how old it may be? Certainly, it dates back to the pharaohs but how far back is anyone's conjecture. Family rumor has it that it was a small-scale model of the one created by Set to entrap Osiris."

He brought the box back to the fireside and laid it on Maria-Elena's knees. "This is the dubious gift I wish to give you, Maria-Elena, this box-and what it contains."

He hovered over her with a heavy sigh.

Maria-Elena sat for some minutes, her hands stroking the marvelous box, her fingers wandering over its jeweled protrusions.

Finally, the Count ordered her sharply, "Open it! Open it now or I shall never have the nerve to give it to you!"

Well In Time Part 30

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Well In Time Part 30 summary

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