Chapter 8 - Martian Spring
...::it was possible to trace the Cathars, who guarded the Holy Grail in their castle at Montsegur, back to Druids who converted to Gnostic Manichaeism. The Druids in Britain were forerunners of the Celtic Christian Church. The culture of the medieval Cathar stronghold of Languedoc bore a strong resemblance to the ancient Druids. Their priests were akin to the Cathar Parfaits. The Cathar secret wisdom being preserved by the later Troubadours, the travelling poets and singers of the medieval courts of France.::...
. . . .
..::The Grail Company:
As to those who are appointed to the Grail, hear how they are made known.
Under the top edge of the Grail Stone an inscription announces the name and lineage of the one summoned to make the glad journey. Whether it concerns girls or boys, there is no need to erase their names, for as soon as a name has been read it vanishes from sight. Those who are now full-grown all came here as children.
Happy the mother of any child destined to serve there!
Rich and poor rejoice if a child of theirs is summoned and they are bidden to send it to that Company::..
Wolfram von Eschenbach
Parzival
. . . .
..::There is an ancient Indian saying: Something lives only as long as the last person remembers it.
My people have come to trust memory over history. Memory, like fire, is radiant and immutable.
While history serves only those who seek to control it; those who would douse the flame of memory in order to put out the dangerous fire of truth.
Beware these men, for they are dangerous themselves and unwise. Their false history is written in the blood of those who might remember and of those who seek the truth::...
X Files
'Blessing Way'
* * * *
'You're certainly up early! For you...' Athena addressed Daryl with an easy familiarity as she followed her nose into the kitchen, and found her friend and host busy creating breakfast with his beloved iron pots and pans.
'And bore da to yourself, cariad...tea or coffee?' He bussed Athena a kiss on the cheek which she accepted with a soft pat to his.
'Oh, "bore da", is it? I best have tea then. Welsh blend?' Athena seated herself at the counter while Daryl poured. 'Diolch.' She cooled her hot mug with a breath. 'So. Big changes afoot, eh?'
Daryl sighed, and folded his immense omlet over, covered, and set it aside. He then poured a cup for himself and sat at the kitchen table, propping his feet up on Dylan, who, looking at him as if he'd gone quite mad, moved off and out his dog door.
'Not quite big enough for that yet,' he remarked, sipping tea.
'Your feet? They seem quite the longboats from here...' Athena assured him.
Daryl smiled, and then stared out the window at the bright spring day. 'It all seems so peaceful here, doesn't it? So...deceptive.' Sighing once more, he continued, 'Yes. Alas. Changes.'
'...And somehow, these changes necessitate a viewing of Da Vinci Code?'
Daryl hmm'd, then stood and cut the omlet into thirds. 'Let's eat. Emlyn is rarely an early riser unless she has plans...' As Daryl put breakfast and fruit on the table, Athena slid from the counter stool and joined him.
'So, then...let me guess: you are relocating the Holy Grail from your shop, back east to our estate, and you wish Emlyn to know of her 'herstory'?'
Daryl nearly choked on his egg. Took a hasty swallow of tea. 'Ah, no. Indeed, not. Although, in some ways, you are not so far off the mark, really.' He eyed Athena seriously. 'I do have a certain artefact in my shop, which may or may not be a Templar treasure, and Emlyn does indeed have a 'herstory', as you put it...although most certainly she is not of the Rose Line, or even Merovingian...' Daryl paused, frowning, '...I don't think...'
Athena stared at him. 'Okaay...so...?'
But Daryl was biting his lower lip now, looking puzzled. '...She did mention her grandmother said they had French blood...' Daryl paused a moment, stirring honey into his tea.
'Merovee, it was said, was born of two fathers. Legend has it that when already pregnant by her husband, King Clodion, Merovee's mother supposedly went swimming in the ocean, where she was seduced by an unidentified marine creature from beyond the sea, who impregnated her a second time. When Merovee was born, there allegedly flowed in his veins a co-mingling of two different bloods...one worldly, and one, Other.'
'Dashed intriguing, Daryl. And what are we to make of this?' Athena asked, practically.
Daryl stared down his tea, challenging it. Finally, he took hold of his mug and downed it in one go, strong as it was. 'I've only just come to realize...perhaps...I'm not as smart as I thought...'
Athena was now most perplexed. For, although she was certain Daryl wasn't as smart as he thought he was; for HIM to think thusly, was monumental indeed.
Daryl stood, taking his plate to the sink, then he put his hands on the counter and leaned into the window, staring out at the pastoral scene spread before him; bees busy amongst the apple trees in bloom, the goddess alive and well in all her nymphlike glory: Diana in spring. 'Persephone returned...' he breathed.
'Daryl...?' Athena cocked an eyebrow his way. Was he off again?
'Ah.' Daryl turned round, nodding his head slowly, as he returned to the table and held the back of his chair, 'Yes, well...you see...what I have been trying to tell our young Emlyn, is rather more complicated than the easily grasped story behind Da Vinci Code.'
Athena's other eyebrow fled upward, joining it's mate.
'Indeed?' Great snakes, this was becoming rather sticky.
'You do know, Daryl, if I can be of any help...are you, are you both, in danger?'
Daryl's head fell to his chest. 'No.' He admitted at last. 'It's too late for that. Come and gone.' He looked up and frowned at nothing, licking his dry lips. Pouring more tea for them both, he continued, 'Jack somehow survived, thanks only to Yeats; he is himself again, and yet he isn't. I managed to return Emlyn, but not restore her.'
To this mishmash of malapropisms, Athena knew not what to think or say.
But Daryl ploughed on, 'Emlyn's heritage is not the san graal. It is Other, and otherthan. We need not discuss it here... However, the problem now is, the same problem that plagued her mother, Seren.'
'Her mother, who was killed...' Athena supplied, recalling now.
'Yes.' Daryl gazed out the window, frowning, 'Yes...' he seemed distracted, 'I am beginning to reconsider my earlier conclusions regarding just who may have been involved in that.' He looked pained.
'Ah...' Athena realized what this now meant. 'So they must know of Emlyn, then, as she is her mother's daughter...what has safeguarded her thus far?'
'The Usual Suspects, including, most recently, myself. Her father, her real father, as well as the other, mundane one. Friends in high places...she had been somewhat under the radar there with Alice for so long; Frank had placed a field about Pankhurst rather like the one on our estate, which kept it slightly out of phase with ambient time and space. But now, no more, not with Alice gone.
'So,' Daryl sighed shortly and sat at last, 'Although it pains me, I must see Emlyn removed and relocated, if not back at our estate then at least hidden. I think this can be accomplished if she goes ahead with her plan to head for the foothills...' Daryl drummed his fingers on the table. '...that is, when we can't keep her back east with Jack and the rest.' He nodded to Athena. 'It's for her own good, and you can help. She's safest there with us.'
'One question Daryl, if I may; if neither Emlyn or her mother have the san graal, then why are they suspect?'
Athena astutely queried.
'What about my mother and me?' Emlyn entered then, right on cue. 'And who is safest where and with whom? --Daryl?'
. . . .
'Your omlet's getting cold.' Daryl informed her.
Observing Emlyn's frozen glare, he continued, 'I was just informing Athena that the foothills are an excellent idea for your move, when you are not with us back east. Your safety figures primarily in all I may do, or attempt to do...even if my timing has been rather off recently, try as I might...'
At this, Emlyn did not argue, knowing how desperately Daryl had indeed tried to 'save' both herself and Jack from their respective follies...and closed her eyes briefly. She opened them to find Athena pouring '...Tea?
Em nodded, and sat. 'Diolch.' As she sipped she felt more the thing. 'I had the oddest dreams all night...! I'm sure they were engendered by the film.' She smiled, 'I can't wait to see the
ending! It has such a positive, message respectful of the goddess.'
'Yes,' Daryl agreed, 'something sadly lacking in my time and why the planet went to...pieces. It was the fault of the cabal, as always; those who usurped the teachings of Jesus, or Mohammed or Jehovah...writing history to buy their own power of absolute rule, or else! The Inquisition, witch hunts, the Dark Ages...death and torture to the infidel, and especially, women...' He sighed, running a hand through his hair, gone dark again now, slight streaks of grey at his temples. Em wondered how long it would stay that way.
Daryl put the last bit of omlet before Emlyn. 'Still warm...' As she tucked in, her mind reviewed the images flashing against her brain screen, images from the film and her dreams all were muddled together...depictions of the Crusades and Knights Templar fighting in the Holy Land.
'So...how much of all that is truth, then? I know that you, and I and Mr. Yeats experienced, shall we say, scenes from that era, but it's all rather confusing, still.'
At this, Athena's ears pricked up. 'You all experienced the Crusades? How so? This, I have to hear...'
'Ahhh...it's, hm, rather...complicated; yes, I see your eyes rolling--but well, alright then...the best I could explain would be to say, we experienced a sort of 'group regression' back to that period, using the, ah, artefact I spoke of earlier...' Daryl attempted a brief explanation, then continued in answer to Emlyn's query:
'It...is certainly true that the Church, and Powers That Be rewrote history to suit and to empower the elite; the few, over the many. Is there a bloodline of Jesus and the Magdalene? Quite possibly. I'm inclined to believe that there is, solely due to the suppression of so much documentation that does exist: the Dead Sea Scrolls, Nag Hammadi, etc.
'Does it relate to you in particular?' Daryl looked out the window once more, regarding the cinquefoil apple blossoms. 'No, Em, I don't believe so.'
Em finished her omlet. 'Thank Isis for that! It simply wouldn't do for a life-long pagan who reveres the Goddess and Her Consort, to be Jesus' great-great-whatever-relative; if only because so many of my sisters were burned at the stake in his name!'
Daryl resumed, 'That said, however, the reason I wished to show you this film is three-fold: first, I thought you should be shown a little of the so-called modern world close to my own time, and two, the subject I knew would interest you, as it does somewhat dove-tail with
your own situation, and lastly,' Daryl sighed wearily, 'I believe, now, that the Others seeking your mother and yourself, may actually believe that you do have possibly a san graal bloodline.'
Daryl held up a hand for silence, 'Many questions, I know, but--I didn't mention this earlier because, the more fool, I--I didn't even realize it myself. I figured they were after Seren due to her own particular genetics conforming to certain criteria...the same which is sought also for those who are sometimes known as 'The Grail Company'. We can speak more of this later. But I never thought that she, or you, actually were carriers of the san graal bloodline.'
'I'm confused...' Em took her plate to the sink and began washing up. 'You're saying this 'Grail Company' has nothing to do with the san graal bloodline?'
Daryl was in danger of becoming confused now. 'It's convoluted, I know. Perhaps the best way to understand it: while the Company has ties to the bloodline, and there are some who have taken it upon themselves to act as it's protectors, the Grail Company is so-called because it was a time of the 'thinning of the veil between worlds' back then; alchemy was indeed a powerful science as Templars and others brought back Jewish and Arab, Persian, Indian and Asian esoteric knowledge and artefacts from the east.'
'Marco Polos of eastern esoterica,' Athena supplied, smiling.
'Indeed,' Daryl concurred, 'The groundwork was being laid for the Renaissance. Undergroundwork!' He slipped a wink Athena's direction. 'Despite the best minds of generations having been burnt at the stake. And then, again, in the Holocaust...'Oh what a piece of work, is man...'' Daryl's mood and countenance had gone black again.
'Yes, ever ready to follow whichever leader's insistence upon our own destruction and regression. I wonder at times, if the governing bodies were to tell the military to simply decimate a certain percentage of the world's population just for the hell of it, no dressing up behind false flags, if they'd just obey. Practically like a video game...virtual reality, all that...'
Athena leaned forward, staring at Daryl now, 'You, yourself are a soldier for la revolucion, Diego. And you know most of the military is comprised of people just like yourself. Would you?'
Daryl snapped out of it. 'No. I would not. Of course not.' He sighed. And looked down. 'Yes, you're right. Men do not willing kill one another. But, there are certain...armies, which are not altogether what one would term 'humane', possibly, not even quite human.'
He glanced at Athena then. 'I'm not running guns south of the border, just so you know. I provide certain...intel, and some monies for la revolution. You know old Villa is not altogether a cabron'...he'd see a village with many children, he would say, 'Build a school here!' and, it was done!' Daryl shook his head slowly, 'That sort of thing is simply incomprehensible in our time. That an individual, a rebel force of the pueblo, the people, could win a revolution and balance the scales, for a time...Villa was a Libra, Em.'
'Our own country, was founded on a revolution, don't forget, Daryl!' Em eyed him, wondering.
But Daryl was staring glassy-eyed at nothing and resumed his oration: 'Our country was founded by Freemasons. And many Welshmen.
'Some alchemists have been simply known to disappear; Comte de St.Germain, Fulcanelli...'
He focused and glanced at Em, '...it depends someTimes upon the particular Time period. Fairies carry one away, or the Nephilim...or, during the Crusades and whenabouts, it was the Grail Company.'
Daryl stood then, suddenly. 'So! Tonight we shall continue with the mysteries of the Grail, no? I believe I shall warm things up with a bit of music...'
And off he betook himself into the parlor, where Emlyn and Athena soon could hear the arpeggios flying...
After a time, and a brief intro, Daryl began to sing: 'Fly me to the moon,
and let me play among the stars...
let me see what Spring is like...
on Jupiter and Mars...'
'Ah. Richard is Himself again,' Athena smiled at Emlyn who grinned and shook her head, thinking: Indeed...
. . . .
The spring morning flew by and, although not as quickly as it had a month ago, soon enough evening was upon them once more. And, as the sun went down, twilight time ushered them into the Twilight Zone...
...An hour or so later, after the interminable credits rolled, the projector wound down, and candles were lit once again.
'That was a beautiful ending!' Emlyn exclaimed, as she stood, stretching. 'For the wandering scholar to pay homage to the goddess on one knee! It would seem that chivalry isn't dead after all in your time, Daryl.'
Daryl stood as well, while Athena rewound her reel. 'Hmm, chivalry? What there is left of it, I suppose, which isn't much.
'--Tea, or brandy anyone?' He went to the kitchen to make tisane and returned some time later bearing cups on a tray.
'But you're correct Em,' he continued, handing Athena a cup of kava, 'the Templars in particular, with their increased knowledge of middle and far eastern mystic wisdom,' he paused to offer Em a cup, '...gained an understanding of the sacred feminine and how very necessary it is for the health and balance of the earth and her people. Some, perhaps, were protectors of the san graal, assuming that part of the story is truth. This was an about-face from the stance taken by the many woman-hating religions predominate at that time. And yes, that led to the chivalry movement, King Arthurs's Knights of the Round Table, and the search for the Holy Grail.'
Daryl took a seat in his wing chair as Athena packed up her projector and joined them round the fire, adding, 'All clans, tribes, everywhere upon this planet, had their shamans and medicine men and women, though; healers and those with second sight,' she sat beside Em and took up her tea.
Daryl nodded. 'These traits were once revered and cultivated. In Europe as well as elsewhere. And, with time, people learned that they could be passed down, genetically, through certain lineages. And, Celtic peoples were one of the tribes which excelled in this, as demonstrated by the old Druids and Wise Women of The Old Country.'
Athena smiled at Emlyn, as she leaned against the cushions with both arms spread along the sofa back as was her wont, 'Witches...' she uttered in her low, melodic voice. 'And, you know what happened to them.'
'I wonder what percentage of them had red hair?' Daryl
mused. They both regarded Emlyn then, who laughed, 'Don't look at me! I don't believe I am that...psychic.'
'You needn't predict futures, Em,' Daryl assured her, 'but you obviously have certain sensitivities; you travel far in your 'dreams'. This comes to you so naturally that you don't even realize you are travelling when you sleep.'
Athena stretched her boots before her on the rug. 'I too was a redhead, in my youth. I didn't have farsight either. But I could usually tell what others were thinking, and certainly what they felt, but would not say.'
Daryl stood and stirred the fire, adding a branch or two of apple wood. 'There was an old 20th century tv show, much like a film, Em, called the X Files which explored and nearly exposed, certain conspiracies rampant during that time....well, throughout history, really, if you want to get down to basics. But in one scene, the powers that be are telling a certain redhaired government agent that they 'Predict the future...and the best way to do that, is to invent it'.
'And, so they did; and a bloody beautiful job they made of it, too...' he growled.
'...Told you I should have brought 'X Files',' Athena smiled slowly.
'I thought you were joking. But maybe next time...' Daryl went to the piano but didn't take the bench; he reached around and took his mandolin from it's case.
'Ah, it's about time I heard you play again!' Athena approved his choice, sitting up attentive now, as Daryl tuned up and noodled about.
'Oh, I didn't bring mine!' Em's voice was plaintive, 'I do miss it so when it's not about, but I must admit when it's always with me, I neglect it more than I ought...'
Daryl leaned back, effortlessly trilling some Vivaldi, then began a tune unknown to Emlyn, but Athena smiled wide. 'Perfect. 'The Battle of Evermore'!' She regarded Emlyn, 'It was inspired by J.R.R. Tolkien's 'Lord of the Rings' trilogy, Emlyn. An epic tale. You must read it.
It was written during one of our tragic and terrible world wars, and is, like so much in fiction and so-called fantasy, a depiction of that war, translated into what some dismissed as a mere 'fairy tale.''
Em brightened. 'I love Tolkien! Jack did give me 'The Hobbit' to read, which was marvelous. He did say there was a sequel.'
'I'll bring it next time...' Athena fell to humming along with the tune, and then Daryl began to sing:
'The Queen of Light took her bow
and then she turned to go
The Prince of Peace embraced the gloom
and walked the night alone,
The Dark Lord rides in force tonight and time will tell us all,'
And then Athena took up the tune:
'O, sing as you raise your bow,
wait not to lock your door...'
Daryl, then:
'The apples of the valley hold
the seeds of happiness
The ground is rich with tender care,
repay do not forget'
Athena:
'Dance in the dark of night
Sing in the morning light...'
Daryl played a trilling solo then and nodded to Athena,
'Let's do it, shall we?' And then, took up the tune once more, tapping his foot in time.
'Side by side we wait the might of the darkest of them all
I hear the horses thunder, down in the valley below
I'm waiting for the angels of Avalon, waiting for the eastern glow
The apples turn to brown and black, the tyrant's face is red.
The sky is filled with good and bad that mortals never know
Oh, well, the night is long the beads of time pass slow,
Tired eyes on the sunrise, waiting for the eastern glow.
The pain of war cannot exceed the woe of aftermath,
The drums will shake the castle wall, the Ringwraiths ride in black, Ride....On, (Sing as you raise your bow, shoot straighter than before)
No comfort has the fire at night that lights the face so cold.
The magic runes are writ in gold to bring the balance back, bring it back...
At last the sun is shining, the clouds of blue roll by,
With flames from the dragon of darkness the sunlight blinds his eyes...'
Then together they sang the ending:
'Bring it back...bring it back...'
. . . .
Page/Plant--Led Zeppelin
Battle of Evermore
Led Zeppelin
WATCH AND LISTEN!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wCQiPXDZHcc#aid=P-1CxxcXbac
WATCH LISTEN AND LEARN!
Jimmy Page plays 'Evermore' on mando
clip from 'It Might Get Loud':
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9xfy9W9my_w




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