LESSON 20
ABANDONMENT

As I returned to consciousness, I became aware of being cold and uneasy before I’d opened my eyes.

When my eyelids did part, I was so startled by an oppressive white mist floating over my bed that I didn’t notice my charm being drawn from its hiding place and into the apparition. I realised the purpose of the phenomenon too late, and though I grabbed to retrieve my treasured item, the mist quickly withdrew under my tent flap, taking the stone with it. ‘NO!’ I scampered off the bed, across the floor and under the exit flap after my treasure—without it, I’d never see Albray again!

The mist rose high above my grasp and, gathering its sparse substance to itself, it increased in density and transformed into a black bird which flew away over the ruins.

‘Molier.’ I recognised this bird from Ashlee’s safebreaking incident. ‘Goddamn it!’ I ran up the road that led to the ruins. I wasn’t going to let anyone take Albray away, not even a shape-shifting, death-defying abomination! I did not consider the danger to my own person, or how ludicrous it was that I would risk my neck for a ghost!

The black bird flew past the ruins and over the embankment on the other side, and across another plateau.

The sharp rocks were cutting my feet to pieces, but I couldn’t feel the pain of my flesh for the pain in my heart, nor could I see where the hell I was going. The moon hung low on the horizon, shedding light on the bird, but casting shadows over the mountainous landscape.

Then my perception of events slipped into slow motion. The bird let go of the charm. I raced toward the dark, shadowy area where my treasure was sure to land, and as I entered the shadows I felt the ground drop out from beneath me.

Have you seen the cliffs on the far side of this mountain? I recalled Akbar asking. There is no recovering a body that has fallen down there.

My heart was gripped by fear. I looked down into the great, vast depths of a chasm and then my body jerked to a halt as my shirt was caught up behind me and my body crashed against the jagged rock wall.

‘I have you, Dr Montrose.’

I knew that voice. ‘Akbar?’ I could feel the stitching of my shirt giving way. ‘I’m slip—’

I was abruptly jerked upwards, where a strong arm gripped my waist and I was swung back around to stand on solid ground.

‘Oh, my god!’ I gaped at the abyss I’d nearly fallen into and hugged tight my saviour to thank him and reassure myself that I was now safe.

‘What possessed you, lady?’ Akbar pried me off to look me in the eye.

I looked back into the chasm, realising that there would be no retrieving Albray’s stone and just burst into tears.

‘You are traumatised.’ Akbar excused my emotional outburst and without further ado he carried me all the way back to camp.

In my tent I sat on the side of my bed and cried uncontrollably, not entirely sure if it was the loss of my guide or the near loss of my own life that scared me more. At least if I had died I would finally have joined my knight. I should have been wearing the stone, I scolded myself. Had I not doubted Albray, I would have had no cause not to wear it. He had warned me that Molier was trying to undermine my trust in my guardian, and it seemed that Molier’s tactic had worked. I couldn’t even confront Molier over what had taken place; I would look and sound like a complete lunatic, for I had no proof of his treachery. Now I had lost an irreplaceable family heirloom…but was it irreplaceable? My tears finally ebbed, for I realised that I knew the summons that Ashlee had used. All I need do was find the same kind of ringed stone required for the summons.

Akbar returned to my tent after a short absence, with a bucket of water and a cloth.

‘What is that for?’ I asked, as my sensibilities were still somewhat scattered.

The Arab placed the bucket beside me and knelt down. ‘Your feet, lady.’ I realised what a bloody toll my misadventure had had on my person when he took up my left foot.

I suppressed a groan as my injuries were washed clean of blood, dirt and gravel; I really hadn’t felt the pain of my injuries until now. To take my mind off my woes, I focused my consciousness into my third eye in the hope of glimpsing Akbar’s aura. I had to suppress a gasp when I perceived a goldenred hue emanating from his subtle body with its light centres whirling with bright light—he was definitely one of the good guys.

‘You are most fortunate to have escaped so lightly.’ Akbar tried not to sound as if he was lecturing. ‘These few scratches and bruises will heal.’ He was gentle with his first aid, but I felt awkward and not a little honoured that this man would bathe my feet.

‘I praise the goddess for your vigilance, Akbar,’ I placed a hand on his shoulder to distract him from his task, ‘but is it not against your customs to bathe the feet of a woman?’

‘You are not just any woman.’ He continued his service, but said no more due to his suspicions about surveillance in Molier’s camp.

His words made me rather curious about something. ‘Have you ever heard of Lilith del Aquae, who was reportedly murdered by a group of assassins known as the Melchi during the time of the first crusade?’

‘Never.’ He stopped what he was doing to place a finger to his lips, reminding me it was not safe to speak openly. ‘Can you walk? You might fancy something to eat, perhaps?’

‘Ah…sure.’ I slipped my feet into my scuffs and, treading timidly at first, I accompanied Akbar outside.

The man would not say anything until we were well clear of Molier’s dwelling in particular, which he eyed with mistrust. We strolled down the centre of the dirt road that ran through our camp.

‘My order has the greatest respect for the daughters of the blood,’ Akbar said in a whisper. ‘I assure you that Lilith del Aquae was not murdered by my people.’

‘Your people?’ I queried as if I was surprised to learn this. ‘Do you mean to say that you belong to the same order of assassins as are mentioned in the legend?’

He gave a slight nod in confession. ‘It is true that the Melchi tried to stop Lilith del Aquae’s party from leaving the Sinai. My predecessors appealed to the priestess to return the keys to safekeeping within the mountain, where they had been since the time of the Exodus when this site was abandoned for greener pastures. When it became obvious that the Lady del Aquae was inclined to honour our request, she was killed by the knights in her company as a traitor, and although my order fought to avenge her murder and obtain the stolen keys, one knight escaped our grasp. After that, my brotherhood had some of our highest initiates penetrate the ranks of the knights of Sion to protect the daughters of Isis who lived on the Continent.’

I had forgotten that lower France and Spain were once in the possession of the Moorish peoples, and this might have been why they had fought so hard to retain the kingdoms where the descendants of their royal bloodlines now lived. Albray could have been one such knight and the Grand Master of the Order of Sion probably would have been aware of this. Which would explain why Marie de Saint-Clair sent Albray to lead Lillet to the site in the Sinai, and why he could claim to know the way to their obscure destination!

Albray couldn’t pditossibly have been part of Sion’s first expeion to the site. He hadn’t even been born at the time. What’s more, there was no evidence to suggest that the Order of Sion had revisited the site between that time and Molier’s expedition. While Lillet’s order had possession of the keys, Sion would have no cause to revisit the remote Mt Serâbit. So, how had Albray known the way to the Star-Fire Temple of the Elohim goddesses? Why had he been so influential with the Melchi assassins during Lillet’s debacle? He had been able to persuade them to assist his quest. Was it just the promise that he could deliver the keys back to their rightful resting place? ‘So your order has kept a history of all the comings and goings to this site in the past?’ I raised this topic with Akbar, to see what he could tell me of Albray.

‘I assure you that if we had murdered the priestess, the Melchi would have secured possession of the keys.’ He avoided my question, or perhaps he thought I was inquiring about the accuracy of his version of events.

‘But you have had limited success in keeping the keys secure within the mountain.’ I hinted at the other occasions the vials had passed in and out of the site.

‘It is true that the keys have slipped through our defences more than once,’ he confessed.

‘Lord Hereford, for example?’ I wondered how the explorer had managed to avoid being confronted by the Melchi.

Akbar seemed embarrassed by my question. ‘After arranging for his excavation permit to be revoked, we believed he had no chance of opening the gateway. By the time word got back to us that he had, at the last minute, succeeded, it was too late. My people did manage to track him down. He swore he had not taken anything from the temple. He claimed a strange entity had scared both he and his wife from the mount.’

‘But why did he lie? Because it relieved him of the burden of hiding the treasure from all who were pursuing it?’ This seemed odd to me. ‘I suppose, by that time, and with Molier on the loose, the lord could trust no one with his secret.’

‘But my order will not repeat the mistakes of the past,’ Akbar stated in a determined fashion. ‘When you open the mount this time, my assignment is to remove the vials and take them to a safer hiding place away from the Ark.’

I nearly had a heart attack.

‘Wait a second! You want me to open the gateway?’ I stopped dead in my tracks. ‘I assumed you were here to dissuade me from such a course of action.’

‘I have never tried to discourage you, not since you showed me the mark of Isis,’ he replied, rather stunned that I assumed he would thwart my efforts.

He was right. It was Albray who had been discouraging me. All Akbar had done was express a desire for Molier’s demise.

‘You must open the gateway. The Ark is your best hope of destroying the beast that is the curse of this place.’

‘Molier.’ I was less confident than ever about my capacity to fight such a formidable foe, but I didn’t wish to alarm Akbar by saying so, or ask him how he expected me to destroy such a beast. ‘Does your order recall the first time Molier visited this site?’ I resumed my slow steps toward the mess tent.

Akbar nodded and then warned me: ‘He has prolonged his life at great cost—he has become a nocturnal creature. He has not seen dawn, dusk, or the light of day in a little under eight hundred years.’ He looked me in the eye, probably expecting me to laugh in his face—which I did not.

‘Molier was entombed in the mount by one of the Melchi agents who infiltrated the Order of Sion…’ I raised both eyebrows to fish for confirmation of what I already suspected.

‘His father was a knight of the crusades belonging to the Scottish order of the—’

‘Sangrèal knighthood,’ I concluded, which explained Albray’s claim to be a Scot, despite his dark colouring and lack of an accent. ‘But his mother?’

‘She was a priestess of our sister order and a princess of Isis, who was given to the visiting Lord de Vere for a short time in order to produce a prince of the blood.’ Akbar did not hesitate to give me an answer, though he was obviously stunned by how much I knew.

I recalled reading that some of the secret knighthoods in the Holy Land had had secret dealings with the local assassins—even been trained by them—despite disagreements over who should protect valuable ancient relics. Perhaps breeding super-beings had been part of the equation?

‘This prince was known among the Sion order as Albray Devere,’ Akbar continued. ‘To we Melchi, he was Albe-Ra, the Shining One. He died trapping the beast, Molier, in the mountain. He was defending a daughter of the blood with whom he had fallen in love—’

‘Lillet du Lac.’ I smiled as I beat Akbar to the punchline. I was deeply moved to finally discover something of my dream lover’s illustrious history. No wonder Albray had not wished to speak about his past—how could he without sounding like he was blowing his own trumpet…or lying through his teeth.

‘You are well informed for a woman of the west.’ Akbar probably didn’t mean to sound condescending.

‘I study.’ I shrugged, not wishing to stray from my pursuit of answers. ‘During the incident of which you speak, involving Lillet, Molier reportedly claimed he alone possessed knowledge regarding activation of the Ark. He alleged he would not perish as had other men before him. Do you know what knowledge he referred to?’

‘Maybe he knows about the breastplate,’ Akbar mused.

‘Breastplate?’ I pushed for more information.

‘Of the daughters of Isis,’ my Arab friend prompted, but when I indicated my ignorance, he enlightened me. ‘The story of the Lady del Aquae tells that when the two vials were positioned in the door to the Ark chamber, they produced a breastplate of gold, along with an inscription which stated that the golden plate must be worn when approaching the Ark. The wearer of the breastplate was also warned that shoes must be removed, and feet washed, when the wearer entered the presence of the Ark, “that they die not”.’

‘Good to know,’ I commented with a gulp and Akbar nodded in agreement. ‘There always seems to be a loophole for the villain to negotiate when it comes to this saving-the-world business.’

‘The gods know that human beings must be granted freedom of choice,’ Akbar explained. ‘The whole process of evolution is redundant if there is no choice, no cause and effect, no lessons to be learned.’

I forced a smile to concede his point. ‘So what would happen if Molier got his hands on this breastplate?’

‘It is written that the power of the Ark is deadly…the men who accompanied the Lady del Aquae into its presence—ignoring the Priestess’ express warning—were reportedly killed by the fire that leapt from the Ark in bolts as thin as threads.’

‘Nice.’

‘It is also written that if the breastplate is worn by someone of evil intent, or not of the blood,’ Akbar continued, ‘it will give them protection. He, or she, could direct the fury of the gods to be unleashed upon the world. But this is speculation only, as such a circumstance has never come to pass.’

‘But do we really know that Molier is evil?’ I asked. ‘True, he stole the Fire vial from the mount and used the sacred substance to sustain himself indefinitely, but that could have been due to normal human survival instincts. He did kill Albray, but in those times any warrior would not have hesitated to do the same to achieve his goals. Has Molier actually done anything that could be considered truly evil?’ On the quiet I reflected that he had also kidnapped the Lady Susan, but he had not harmed her. Most recently, he had stolen my charm, nearly leading me over a cliff in the process. And yet here I was? Did Molier know Akbar was watching out for me? He must have, as he needed me to open the gate and would surely not want me dead at this stage.

‘My brotherhood understands that “evil” refers to any displaced or disorganised energy that has come adrift from its normal time zone,’ Akbar informed me. ‘There are cosmic laws which function here on earth in any given period of history. Undesirable and unharmonious force fields are built up by the stressed energies of those who operate outside the wavebands of cosmic law. The soul-mind who attempts to sidestep their own time-zone frequency without divine blessing is electing to run counter to the cosmic order, and abandons temporarily the ways of light and love to pursue the path of chaos. When such an imbalance occurs, the gods send forth a counterbalance of extreme good to combat the misplaced energy or entity and send them back to the matrix. In some instances this counterbalance might be a person with particular skills and knowledge.’ Akbar smiled as he said this, and indicated me. ‘In other instances the counterbalance could assume the form of a tragic event that will trigger a great outpouring of human compassion, or a miraculous occurrence to stimulate inspired thought in the masses.’

I had to refrain from gulping in fright and longed for Albray to be by my side; I felt stripped of my greatest weapon without Albray. I needed to find myself a ringed stone and fast! Andre would return with the shipment of white powder today, but with any luck he might arrive late in the day so that the grand opening of the temple would have to wait until the sun was at its zenith tomorrow. That would give me one more day to finish Ashlee’s account, and to find myself a new treasure stone and complete the summons to get my dearest ally to return.

‘Molier’s consumption of the Fire-Stone, when he lacks the Gene of Isis to transmute its divine benediction, has driven him quite mad, I believe,’ Akbar said. ‘I can’t claim to know his reasoning or true purpose for wanting to gain access to the Ark. Perhaps he aspires to true godhood, who knows?’

According to Lillet’s account, the moment Molier had swallowed the Fire-Stone he had felt himself to be a god, so why should he need to pursue it any further? Unless he now fancied keeping the company of the gods in their realm? I was still theorising when we finally reached the mess tent. Even though the sun barely tainted the darkness with the first signs of dawn, our camp chef was up and preparing food.

‘In any case, Molier’s intentions are of no concern. We must thwart him,’ Akbar insisted, and again it was a struggle not to appear daunted.

‘Then I had better eat up, stock up and get back to my tent,’ I replied, forcing myself to sound enthusiastic. ‘I still have much work to do.’

I had to admit that I did feel better for having food in my belly; my nerves had settled down. My date with destiny was fast approaching and being afraid was not going to make it go away.

Apart from reading the rest of Ashlee’s journal and seeking a new charm, I had also vowed to Lillet to try and find a way to release Albray from his vow to the Elohim Council of Hathor.

‘Now don’t stress out,’ I cautioned myself, despite the workload that had suddenly piled up. ‘I can do this. I just need to tackle one challenge at a time. Ashlee…’ I decided to get the journal out of the way—with a little luck, that would leave me the rest of the day to complete my other objectives.

I pulled the large journal from my bag and placed it on the desk before me. I found my place and began to read.

FROM THE HONEYMOON JOURNAL OF LADY SUSAN DEVERE

I insisted on waiting for Ashlee on the dock at Ostia—I would not go anywhere without first warning her of my concerns about Molier. I suspected that he, too, was a powerful psychic, and that when he had abducted and imprisoned me he had probed my mind for information about my dear sister-in-law. I personally had found his presence very unnerving and, whatever his intention toward Ashlee, I knew deep in my gut that his purpose was malign.

My stubbornness dismayed my husband and Cingar, who both insisted that I would do well to stick with the plan and board my transport home. The ship would be departing port in but a few hours.

My wait proved to be of no avail, as when Ashlee and her husband disembarked from Molier’s ship they were in such a hurry to get to their own vessel that they would not listen to what I had to say.

‘I am so sorry, Susan,’ Ashlee said, already on board the rowboat that would take her to her ship. ‘We have no time to waste. Cingar will show you to your transport,’ she advised once again, while Mr Devere had untied the rowboat.

‘You are not leaving without me,’ Cingar insisted, jumping aboard before my brother-in-law could push off.

‘Don’t be ludicrous, Cingar!’ Ashlee was annoyed at him. ‘Jessenia is awaiting you on shore. What will your new wife think when you don’t show?’

‘She knows of my decision to accompany you all the way to the East,’ Cingar argued.

‘But who shall see my kin to their boat?’

‘I am not entirely useless,’ Lord Devere said. ‘We are capable of seeing ourselves to the vessel.’

‘There you have it.’ Cingar took a seat, not to be moved, and my sister-in-law did not waste time arguing.

‘Then let us depart.’ She gave Devere the nod to push off and waved to me. ‘I’ll see you in Europe soon, I promise.’

Dutifully, I accompanied my husband to our ship, but inside I felt I was letting our kin down. ‘So, that is that, the adventure is over.’ I spoke my mind, no longer able to bite my tongue.

‘Well, that is hardly something to be disappointed about.’ My lord seemed surprised by my melancholy. ‘I had rather thought you might be relieved.’

‘I would have thought so too.’ I saw his point and could not explain my contrary feelings. ‘But…must we return home? Could we not see the quest through to its end?’

‘My dear Lady Devere,’ my husband was now sounding a little annoyed, ‘have you forgotten that we do have responsibilities to our shire and to the queen?’

‘Yes, of course.’ I forced a smile. ‘How silly of me.’ I had no chance of competing with my lord’s duties and thus I resigned myself to our lot, which I had happily agreed to when I had married Lord Devere.

‘I’m sorry, my love.’ My husband could clearly see my discontent. ‘You know I will always grant you anything that it is within my power to give, but by the time we return we will have already extended our honeymoon, and—’

‘I know,’ I interrupted, heartened that he cared about my feelings. ‘Our sister is in good hands with your brother and Cingar,’ I reasoned. ‘I’m sure they can handle any problems that might arise better than I.’

My lord smiled and kissed my hand, thankful for my understanding and support, and I was glad to give it.

‘My Lord and Lady Devere?’ A man’s voice addressed us from the shadows of the darkened dock-front buildings.

‘Who wishes to know?’ My husband swept me behind himself as he turned to seek our stalker.

An older gentleman came forward onto the dockside, holding a lantern high so that we might see his face. ‘My name is Lord Edward Malory.’

My husband frowned in recognition. ‘I know you. You were an associate of my father’s.’

The gentleman nodded in confirmation.

‘And of my brother,’ Lord Devere added, rather more suspiciously.

‘Yes, I believe we had the pleasure of meeting at your wedding, Lord Oxford.’ The gentleman ventured closer, but my husband did not make a move. He remained in front of me and on his guard.

‘What on earth are you doing here in Ostia, Lord Malory?’ my lord asked, although I felt he already knew what the answer would be.

‘I have been pursuing your brother, Mr Earnest Devere, and his new wife. I have urgent and grave news to deliver. Do you know where I might find them?’ The lord stopped a few feet from us, closely examining my husband’s expression.

‘I cannot help you, I’m afraid. My brother and I have had a falling out and have parted ways,’ Lord Devere answered without hesitation. ‘He did not say where he was bound. And as I am due to catch a ship back to France, I’m afraid you must excuse us. Good day.’ My lord grabbed my hand and began to lead me up the dock, but we suddenly found ourselves confronted by a row of men.

‘I am sorry to have to delay your voyage home, my Lord Devere,’ Lord Malory approached us once more, as his men closed in around us, ‘but I believe my urgency is greater than yours.’

‘Here we go again,’ my husband muttered to me, clearly fed up with the affairs of secret societies.

I must admit that while I was a little apprehensive of this turn of events, inside I was smiling, as it seemed our adventure was not over yet.

FROM THE TRAVEL JOURNALS OF MRS ASHLEE DEVERE

Once Cingar, Devere and I were safely aboard our vessel and bound for our next destination—Napoli, only a day or so away—I beseeched Albray and my husband to enlighten me about the ladies of the Elohim Council, from whom I had drawn the power to repel Molier.

As a daughter of the Blood, you will, upon your death, automatically become a member of this council, albeit a junior one. You’ll join the like of Isis, Lilith, Neith, Sarai, Hatshepsut, Nefertiti, Mary Magdalene and the princess-priestesses of her line, and many others whose bloodline descends from the Great Mother, Hathor. For, whatever the dilution… Albray looked from me to my husband and back again …the blood of the gods runs through your veins. In short, you have the Gene of Isis in your atomic structure.

‘Does your priestess abide among the esteemed members of this council?’ I wondered, as Albray had mentioned his beloved was of my line. I wish I had stopped to think, for the mention of his lost love was clearly distressing.

No, he said quietly. She has elected to remain in the sub-planes of the astral realm, closer to the physical world, for she has unfinished business in the land of the living.

‘Much like you, Albray,’ I noted.

Very much like me, he concurred solemnly.

‘So you have seen her since death?’ Damn my curiosity, but the occult subject matter was so fascinating!

I only make contact when some event arises that involves both of us. It is painful for us, you understand. He was letting me know he was reluctant to discuss it any further.

‘We understand, Albray.’ Devere excused him from saying any more. When I looked at my husband to reprimand him for his interference, he reprimanded me instead. ‘I used to think it was just me you tortured, but now I see that you know how to torture every man in your life.’

I gaped at my accuser, then conceded his point.

I turned back to Albray. ‘My apologies for any anguish I might have caused you…you were saying about the council?’

Ah yes… my knight was clearly pleased by the change in subject, but had to take a moment to recall where he was up to in his tutorial. Your foremothers will aid and protect you during any quest you undertake on their behalf, Albray explained. There is also a council of male Elohim who aid the sons of the blood. Their council is not accessed via the site in the Sinai, however, but through the other Ark, the one removed from the Holy Land during the first crusade and hidden on the Continent by St Bernard’s Children of Solomon—a Masonic brotherhood in France.

‘The other Ark?’ Both Devere and myself picked up on the knight’s choice of words.

‘Are you saying there was more than one Ark of the Covenant?’ I asked, fascinated by this turn in Albray’s tale.

Albray nodded.

‘And that the Ark of the ladies of the Elohim is still housed at the site in the Sinai?’

That is what I believe, yes, Albray confirmed. But I, personally, have never seen it, neither has any man living who has not had a death wish.

‘So why should it be a concern that Molier might gain access to this treasure if it will surely kill him?’ I wondered.

Molier is no longer just a man, nor is he a god. He is not counted among the living, but is one of the undead. He exists outside cosmic law in a chaotic state of his own making. He believes he knows of a way to gain access to the Ark without risking total obliteration, and I shall not hazard him the opportunity to be proven right.

Satisfied with this explanation for the time being, and not wanting to enter into another mystery entirely, I thanked Albray and dismissed him. I had decided to confide in my husband about a few things I had been keeping secret and I was not sure Albray would approve of my course of action.

‘This is the memoir of Lord and Lady Hereford.’ I produced the huge volume from my travel bag and dumped it in Devere’s lap. ‘Unfortunately, I have not had a chance to read very much of it during the course of this journey, but I believe it could contain relevant information concerning our final destination in the Sinai.’

Devere was delighted and opened the book to peruse the contents, but was distracted from the text when he noticed me undressing. ‘What is on your mind, Mrs Devere?’ He smiled, misinterpreting my intent.

‘You wanted to know all my secrets.’ I removed my shirt and turned my back on him, so that he might undo my corset. ‘If you would be so kind.’

He obliged me, a little puzzled to note the extra padding of the corset, and was smiling broadly when I removed it to expose my fully naked torso. My husband reached out to caress my breasts, which had not been exposed to him since our nights of passion at the Chateau de Vere. During our encounter at the gypsy camp, we’d been in too much of a hurry to bother fully undressing. ‘Not so fast,’ I teased, as I turned the corset upside down and shook the hidden contents onto the bed.

As the gold coins and precious stones cascaded onto our bunk, Devere’s jaw dropped. ‘Where on earth…?’

‘This was my personal insurance policy from Lord Hereford,’ I confessed. ‘I knew that if I declared this gift to you when we married then it automatically belonged to you. Well,’ I summed up, ‘now it does.’

Devere was lost for words.

‘There you have it.’ I pulled on my shirt and sat on the bed beside him. ‘All my secrets.’ Except for the one that I carried inside me, but at this early stage of my pregnancy most women could claim blissful ignorance.

‘There is a small fortune here.’ Devere fingered the jewels, and the coins in different currencies.

‘Certainly enough to get us to the Sinai and back again,’ I proffered.

‘Several times over.’ He gathered the treasure and returned it to the pockets inside the corset. ‘I cannot claim it. Hereford gave this to you and so it shall remain yours.’

‘But, legally, I was wrong to keep it from you,’ I protested.

‘Then you keep it safe for us.’ He handed me back the fully loaded corset. ‘If we need it, I’ll let you know.’

‘No, I cannot let you squander your inheritance on this mission any longer,’ I insisted. ‘This is my quest and I shall pay.’

‘I promised you extensive travel.’ Devere was just as insistent. ‘I intend to keep my word.’

His resolute manner melted my heart. ‘I do love you, Mr Devere.’ I slid closer to him.

‘And I love you, Mrs Devere.’ He kissed me tenderly and placed the corset aside to take advantage of my semi-naked state. Making love on a ship suited us perfectly, for almost everything was nailed down and so less chance of breakage.

FROM THE HONEYMOON JOURNAL OF LADY SUSAN DEVERE

Five days after departing the port of Ostia, Lord Devere and I found ourselves off the coast of Malta.

You see, Lord Malory already suspected that our in-laws were headed toward the Sinai. He had decreed that we would all make the journey if my husband and I were not prepared to be forthcoming with information about our kin’s preferred route and hidden agenda.

We may have been the captives of Lord Malory, but we were treated as honoured guests and the vessel was even more luxurious than Molier’s. There was obviously a lot of money being channelled into these secret brotherhoods, for their great fortune was clearly reflected in their assets.

Lord Malory visited us in our cabin’s lounge, just as he had when we’d passed by every other major port along our route to the East. He came to tempt us with the prospect of disembarking at this port and seeking transport back to our homeland if we were prepared to tell all.

‘How many times do I have to tell you? I have no interest whatsoever in my brother’s occult pursuits,’ my husband insisted, keeping to his story, and for all I knew he wasn’t lying. ‘Thus, I had precious little reason to inquire after his travel arrangements.’

We had had this conversation quite a few times now.

Malory said that one reason he was so eager to find our sister-in-law was to inform her that her father had taken ill. The Scottish lord also said that he suspected Ashlee could be in danger from what he described as ‘an abomination of nature’. I could only presume the lord was referring to the unearthly personality of Christian Molier and my guess had been confirmed with a nod. My husband then demanded to know why Malory had not waited for Molier to return to Ostia, where Lord Malory’s private army could have vanquished the threat to our sister before Molier got anywhere near her.

But Lord Malory, who had admitted to being the Grand Master of the brotherhood to which Mr Devere belonged, did not want to prevent our sister and Molier from meeting in the Sinai. The Grand Master was well aware of Ashlee’s miraculous talents and her activities over the years, having been kept well informed by my father, Lord Eric Cavandish, and my aunt, Lady Charlotte, the Dowager Countess of Derby. Malory’s task was to prepare Ashlee for the confrontation. His brotherhood believed that Ashlee’s powerful and pure psychic talent could only have been sent into the world to oppose an equally powerful impure force which had been set free in the world at roughly the same time as her birth.

Lord Hamilton, who had also been a member of the secret brotherhood, had confessed to his Grand Master that he had inadvertently released an ancient, and seemingly malevolent, creature from an underground chamber on Mt Serâbit. Lord Malory believed that the creature had assumed the identity of Christian Molier.

‘What are you saying? Molier is an evil spirit?’ My husband and I struggled to accept the credibility of the lord’s claim.

‘No, we believe he is what might be termed undead.’ We were corrected and, quite frankly, left twice as disbelieving.

Needless to say, my husband was not impressed by the description. ‘This is starting to sound like a bad vampire novel.’

Malory informed us that Mt Serâbit had a long and illustrious history. All the secret knighthoods that had proliferated around the time of the first crusade into the Holy Land believed the mount contained many unearthly treasures capable of being used to perform great feats of good or evil.

Malory explained that he suspected Lord Hereford had taken one such treasure, although Hamilton would never admit to it. Our captor also suspected that, before the Viscount of Herefordshire had died, he’d entrusted this treasure to my sister-in-law’s safekeeping. This was why Molier was so keen to find our kinswoman; at least, that was Lord Malory’s theory.

I put two and two together to conclude that Malory was the man Ashlee had accused of murdering Lord Hamilton and so I found his story a little too convenient. ‘Lord Hereford may have given such a treasure to our sister-in-law before he was disposed of by your colleagues, don’t you mean?’ I said boldly, and Malory seemed genuinely stunned by my accusation.

‘Lord Hereford died of natural causes, I assure you, Lady Devere,’ he defended. ‘I’ll admit that I was aware of Lord Hereford’s death before the fact, for it was your aunt, Lady Charlotte, who prophesied that Miss Granville would marry Mr Devere, and that there would be an obstruction to the union which would resolve itself. I tried to warn Hereford of this, but he wouldn’t listen. Is it that meeting that gave you reason to suspect my order’s involvement?’

‘Don’t answer that,’ my husband intervened. ‘Whatever the truth behind Lord Hereford’s demise, it is my belief that you secret society fanatics are as certifiable and obsessed as each other!’ Lord Devere stated his belief in no uncertain terms.

For myself, I didn’t know what to think. Ashlee had never mentioned any such treasure to me, yet I had to admit that her psychic powers had increased since Lord Hamilton’s death, as had her ambition to travel to the East.

Having been insulted for the umpteenth time by my Lord Devere, Lord Malory withdrew from our chambers, taking his offer of release with him.

In less than a week our vessel would reach Alexandria, from where, Lord Malory thought, our in-laws would commence their overland journey to the Sinai. It was our captor’s hope to find our kin in this city. Then, perhaps we would all learn the truth behind this mystery.

FROM THE TRAVEL JOURNALS OF MRS ASHLEE DEVERE

Two and a half weeks after leaving Ostia we reached the ancient land of Egypt and were nearing the fallen city of Alexandria. We crossed paths with many outward-bound vessels. We proceeded by the fleet of the Pasha anchored under the walls of the seraglio, and negotiated our way through the difficult and dangerous reef-ridden channel to anchor in the harbour.

Mariners were usually guided through the reefs by a local, but Captain Falco was not prepared to let any locals board our vessel, because at the port of Malta there had been reports of a plague in Alexandria. Captain Falco was here to drop us off and then leave; he would not risk his crew.

‘There is plague in the city?’ Thankfully, this was the first my husband had heard of the rumour, or he might have paid the captain to take us elsewhere.

‘In the Frankish quarter of the city it is not much of a concern, apparently, nor in the desert. It is just the poorer parts of town that one need worry about,’ the captain assured us.

‘So much history,’ I uttered, transfixed by the allure of the ancient city.

I was amazed to see that Pompey’s Pillar, a tribute to Egypt’s proud history, still stood tall and was one of the most prominent landmarks of the city.

‘I can’t wait to get in amongst it,’ I said with a huge smile.

‘Are you not listening?’ My husband was very concerned now. ‘There is plague in the city!’

‘When you travel so far abroad you have to expect to face a few hazards.’ I played down the risk.

‘Then we will head straight for the Frankish quarter,’ Devere stated.

‘Agreed.’ Anything to get my husband off the boat.

‘Agreed,’ echoed Cingar, whereby Devere and I both objected.

‘You are definitely going home with Captain Falco,’ I lectured. ‘I shall not be responsible for keeping you from your family any longer.’

‘You need me,’ he stated plainly. ‘Do either of you speak Arabic?’

‘I speak a little,’ I lied. I could read it, but I wasn’t too sure how well I could speak or interpret the local tongue. In truth, what I had heard so far sounded like gibberish.

Cingar gave me a look that implied disbelief, and then spoke a sentence in the local tongue and awaited my response.

I caught a couple of words I recognised and I tried to piece together the overall meaning of what he was saying, but I deliberated too long.

‘You won’t last five minutes,’ Cingar concluded, ‘as I just gave you directions to the Frankish quarter.’ He smiled to rest his case, but then added: ‘Let’s not even discuss what will happen when you attempt to arrange provisions for your journey.’

‘I feel sure there are translators to be found in the city.’ I tried to dismiss the gypsy one last time.

‘But none are so well disposed toward you and your safety as I,’ he stated sincerely, placing his right hand over his heart.

I clicked my fingers as I remembered. ‘Albray speaks Arabic, I’m sure of it.’

‘Albray,’ queried Cingar. ‘Who is Albray?’

‘No one worth mentioning,’ my husband decreed, making it plain by the look he served me that he did not entirely trust Albray. ‘You are a good friend to us, Cingar.’ Mr Devere was very grateful to our gypsy friend and rather fond of his company. ‘We humbly accept your fine offer and shall be eternally grateful for your guidance.’

The gypsy smiled broadly. ‘Then let us enter Alexandria!’

The dockside streets of the ancient city were a far cry from what they would have been in the glory days of Egypt, although it did feel like we had stepped back thousands of years in time.

Flies swarmed around the masses of dirty, half-naked, sore-eyed Arab men and the donkeys, yelping dogs and camels bustling around the long range of bazaars that lined the way to the Frankish part of town.

We were forced to barge our way through the commotion behind our guide, who seemed to take all the bustle, stench and noise in his stride. For a time I clean forgot that there were such things as obelisks, pyramids and ruined temples; my sole mission was to find some space, and air to breathe. Suddenly, I was a lot more apprehensive about threats of plague and Mr Devere passed me his handkerchief so that I might cover my mouth and nose.

When we eventually cleared the crush, we found ourselves in front of a whole row of fine buildings that were shops stocked with European goods. These were followed by other renovated dwellings dedicated to lodging, business, restaurants for dining and salons for drinking. Amid these were fine country houses, displaying beautiful gardens that grew upon barren sands.

‘What an improvement.’ I couldn’t believe how pompous that statement was, but the Englishwoman in me was completely delighted to find the comforts of home in such an ancient city. ‘What should we do first? Find a room? Go shopping?’

‘I would see Mr Banks, the English consul,’ Cingar suggested. ‘You are required to sign the consular book as a record of your arrival and presence in the East.’

‘But we don’t wish to announce our presence here. What if Molier was to see it?’ I posed.

‘Molier would see the French consul,’ Cingar pointed out, and yet the prospect still made me feel uneasy.

‘Perhaps tomorrow, just before we leave,’ I suggested. ‘What I need right now is a bath.’

The temperature was unbearable and my green velvet attire was not helping.

‘Done,’ Cingar agreed, leading off down the road. ‘As we wish to avoid attention, might I suggest you bypass the more popular hotels and guesthouses of the French, English and Americans. I know an Italian gypsy trader who would be happy to accommodate us. His home is not as grand or prestigious as some, but I guarantee it is more hospitable and comfortable than any in the city.’

As expected, Cingar’s boast did not fall short of expectations. The European part of Alexandria is located in the outlying section of the city and it was in a quiet little back street that we came to the dwelling of Mr Frinkulo Maximoff. Mr Maximoff was a coppersmith by trade and, by fortune, a trader in Middle Eastern exotica to the West. Silks, soaps, statues, spices and scents: his large dwelling was filled with them. The front room of the house was also his store and showroom. Born in Italy, the Maximoffs were gypsies who became too successful to risk displaying their wares and carrying their fortune on the road. They did the unthinkable and quit the nomadic life to settle on the edge of the desert, where they had lived happily and prosperously for over twenty years.

The Maximoffs did adore having guests, however, and as friends of Cingar, we were warmly welcomed, fed and given the best guestroom in the house. A sunken tiled bath had been hand-filled by the staff with warm water and sweet scented oils whilst we ate. Hence, our room was filled with heady fragrances when we were ready to retire and refresh ourselves.

Our balcony overlooked a large garden courtyard, in which many of the herbs, spices and scents sold by Maximoff were cultivated. I gazed across the rooftops toward the burning sands of Egypt, wafts of scented water from our room mingling with the perfume of the garden carried upon the hot breeze, and I felt myself seduced by the pleasurably unfamiliar atmosphere. This would remain with me for the rest of my life. Whenever I remembered the East, I would be swept back to this magical moment. ‘I think I shall adore this city after all,’ I called to Devere, who was preoccupied inside our room.

‘Me too.’

I returned inside to find my husband had already stripped naked and was submerged in the large bath with a cigar in hand.

‘You look very content, in my bath.’ I had to chuckle at his speed.

‘There’s plenty of room,’ he grinned.

I decided to indulge his invitation, as I was just as eager to remove my immensely constricting and inappropriate attire. ‘We have to buy some local clothes for the journey,’ I said, tossing aside the green velvet items. Naked below the torso, I walked into the tub toward Devere and then turned and knelt down beside him so he could undo my corset.

‘It doesn’t get any better than this,’ he commented, admiring my behind as I stood to cast off my last item of clothing.

‘Now we don’t want to destroy our host’s lovely home.’ I sank into water all the way over my head, to surface a very invigorated woman. ‘Praise my foremothers, that feels fabulous!’

Devere ran his hand down my wet, oil-scented skin. ‘If we just take it real slow, maybe the damage can be controlled?’

‘Wouldn’t that mean we’d have to divide our attention between the world outside us,’ I slid my way on top of him, ‘and the world inside?’ I lowered myself to sit upon his already eager member.

‘Not at all,’ he grinned confidently. ‘I guarantee my want of you will overcome any obstacle.’ His kiss encouraged me to forget about the consequences and seize the moment.

In fact, we seized the whole afternoon, and evening found us still lounging on the bed, our bedcovers wound around us.

‘Our host must think us awfully rude,’ I raised myself to dress, as I was feeling rather famished, ‘and this is certainly not getting us any closer to the Sinai.’

‘Are you aware that you have a tiny chakra system growing inside your own?’ Devere placed his hand over my lower stomach. ‘Right about here.’

My heart skipped a beat and jumped into my throat—I must have appeared so guilty.

‘When were you planning on telling me?’ he queried calmly, but with a tinge of accusation and hurt.

‘I wanted to be sure.’ My defence was transparent.

‘You expect me to believe you didn’t know?’ Devere saw through me. ‘And you’re a far better psychic than I am.’

‘It is what your brotherhood wanted from this union.’ I decided to be frank. ‘And the truth is, I was doubtful that you would risk your prime goal to allow me to complete my quest.’

‘The ambitions of my order are not the reason I would see you return to England.’ Devere was angered by my assumptions, as deep down I knew he would be. ‘Have you no regard for the life of our child that you would risk its future?’

All I divined from my husband’s words was that he wished me to return home. ‘You are so predictable!’ I hurried dressing. ‘Is it any wonder I don’t confide in you?’

‘You are not running away from this argument.’ Devere began dressing himself, just in case he needed to pursue me.

‘And you are not taking me back to England!’ I secured the stone’s bracelet around my wrist, grabbed my weapons belt and coat, and made for the door.

‘Please, Ashlee, be reasonable.’ Devere grabbed my arm to delay me.

I glared at him a moment and then stated resolutely, ‘In the name of the goddess, I repel you!’

‘No, Ash,’ Devere appealed as he was drawn to the bed and compelled to lie down. ‘Please don’t forsake me again. Don’t forsake our ch—’

‘I blind you to my being.’ I spoke up before I could be touched by his appeal. Devere’s eyes closed despite his struggle and he immediately fell into a deep sleep. ‘And I banish you from my thoughts and heart until my quest is done,’ I concluded solemnly. ‘May the goddess keep you safe until then…may she keep us all safe.’ I stroked my flat belly, yet to show any trace of my condition, and then opened the door.

‘My dear lady.’

I gasped when I found Cingar standing at my door, dressed in a light Arab cloak with a hood.

‘I have arranged passage on a merchant boat to Cairo, but unfortunately it leaves tonight,’ he informed me.

‘That suits me fine.’ I stepped into the hall to join Cingar and closed the door behind me.

‘Are you not going to wake Devere?’ The gypsy was puzzled by my actions.

‘My husband is not coming with us,’ I announced coldly, making my way downstairs before I had to contend with an argument.

‘Oh, not again!’ the gypsy whined in my husband’s defence. ‘Abandoning your spouse at every given opportunity is no way to run a successful marriage,’ he scolded.

‘Hah, look who’s talking!’ I responded lightly, but the gypsy did not look amused. ‘Are you coming with me, or staying with Mr Devere?’

He gave me a hurt look, surprised I had asked. ‘You know I am always at your service.’

‘Then come aid me to buy an Arab cloak from Mr Maximoff, so that we may be on our way to Cairo.’

Cingar drew a deep, uneasy breath. ‘As you wish, my lady.’ He reluctantly left the door to my room and followed me downstairs.