The King, Father & Mother
Trinity Truth Revelation
By
Eric L. Rhodes
Author’s Note
All names and characters in this novel are fictional and any similarity to people in real life is coincidental.
Moving the wind
From our sacred grove of oak my master has shown me the movements of time, balanced in the stars and calibrated by the sun and moon.
The language of the trees became my guide. Out on the fringe, bound in earth, yet free to dwell above and below.
An endless mythological stream of ballads flows from the tongue, quenching the thirst of those around the well. Chants and movement provide the mystery for the uninitiated who look out while the action truly is within.
From this tower built within the man the flag of the will is flown, moving the wind to fly it.
© 2009 Eric L. Rhodes
Chapter 1
T
he Gnostics were given land for their new community atop a sacred knoll. The knoll was capped by an ancient yew grove and bounded by a small stream. The stream had natural weirs allowing fish to easily be caught to supply the community’s food. Without delay Abba Ioannis and his community of monks and nuns began working. First the circle was drawn around the yew trees, then a trench dug for the moat and soil mounded up on the inside bank. The raised bank was planted with holly, blackthorn and elder to prevent erosion. An underground chamber was dug within the enclosure for storing food. Finally, the tiny round houses or cells were built with wattle and daub and roofed with reed thatch for the monastic brothers and sisters to live in.
Once the Gnostic community was complete, Ioannis asked the wizened old druid Senias to join him in consecrating the holy community. The two holy elders would carve a solar cross integrating the old and new ways, a small cross above and one below representing heaven and earth. The ceremonial stone would be placed at the tip of the serpent’s tongue as the earth mother had instructed.
Abba Ioannis would then carve an ogham prayer on the stone, to guide pilgrims to God until the end of time. All the monks and nuns began praying intently for the Abba, that he would conjure the truth and with purity of intent bring that truth forth into the material world, by placing it lovingly on the stone.
Abba Ioannis prayed until he felt the words of truth rising from deep within him. He firmly grasped the chisel and struck it with a wooden Mallet. The sound of the metal chisel dinging the stone echoed into the valley below. The Abba had begun carving and his thoughts became ogham.
Chapter 2
The door opened into Jonathan’s office and Christina came in. Her shoulder length black curls, like her, were bouncing with energy. She had just finished her yoga class for the day. She said “Ready for a quick lunch at Oshira’s? I thought sushi would be good for you, you’ve been so stressed out lately.”
“Oh, sweetie, I really don’t think I can get out of the office until late tonight, we’re staying hard at it trying to find something that works anymore” said Jonathan. Christina thought to herself how stressed out he looked, ashen faced and subdued, she felt sorry for him and wished she could help. “How about you come to yoga with me tomorrow morning before work? Maybe that will get your mind away from all these charts. It could be just what you need.”
“I don’t think so, but we’ll see. Anyway honey, give me kiss and I must get back to the coal face here.” He leaned over and kissed her full soft lips. “I love you and those fantastic lips,” he said. Bye for now. I’ll be home around seven.”
Jonathan Silvernail is head equities trader for a small fledgling hedge fund, Prometheus Capital, which he and two friends started in 2002. They had worked together at Spearman Walters & Morgan through the dotcom boom in the 90’s and were sent packing by the firm when everything tech crashed back to earth at the turn of the millennium. Everyone looked like a genius in the late nineties. They had all been successful traders and analysts, but when the bubble burst, you couldn’t force a tech stock higher, it was like trying to push a string, and all companies suffered.
Jonathan began his trading career in 1992 as an apprentice with legendary market guru Pierce Walters. Straight out of college with no experience, Jonathan answered the ad Walters Capital had placed in the New York Times, ‘Asset Management trainee, is learning more important than earning? If so send your CV to WC Box 55 Tarrytown, NY 10591’. The interview was unlike any other he had been too. Mr. Walters interviewed him personally and the questions seemed more like riddles than from a typical interview. After about a week Jonathan received a phone call from the secretary of Walters Capital, notifying him he’d been offered the job and to report to their office at 55 Old Sleepy Hollow Lane, Sleepy Hollow, New York.
Jonathan was thrilled at the prospect of working with Pierce Walters. Even though the stock market had been going through some sluggish times, he dreamed of making his fortune on Wall Street.
For the first few months at Walters Capital Jonathan was studying for his series seven brokers license, learning about the working methods of the office and listening intently to anything any of the head traders said. The atmosphere of the office was nothing like he expected from a Wall Street trading firm, especially one as well known as Walters Capital. No one was running about with scraps of paper buying and selling, no one yelling or screaming to do this, or that. No, it was all extremely relaxed, with classical music playing over the intercom and computer programs silently churning away proprietary software to identify stocks to watch or possibly buy. Computerized trading had become very popular in recent years and was a major contributing factor to the crash of 1987. Whereas some firms relied solely on computerized analyses and execution of orders, Walters Capital used human execution, as Mr. Walters believed that only a human could pick up the subtle intricacies of major market turning points and that was where his edge lay. He always said the market was a living, breathing beast and like a good boxer you had to watch and wait for a twitch in the opponent’s muscles, only then reacting.
Studying under the master Walters was a dream come true and in time Jonathan became very proficient. Understanding technical analysis of stocks was simple,
It was implementing it that was difficult. The master poured out his knowledge into his employees and Jonathan drank from the well.
The 90’s were a good time in Jonathan’s life. He had it all, money and travel were abundant, and he could spend all of it with the love of his life, Christina. He had met Christina while at university in New York City. Jonathan took a yoga class Christina was teaching to get to know her. He loved to watch her firm slender figure as she twisted and molded into the most amazing positions.
In 1999 change was in the air and people were flying high on the drug of exuberance. Others though, like Pierce Walters, were not buying the party line and felt disaster was soon approaching. He sold up his highly respected trading firm to the new kid on the block, Spearman & Morgan, who then became Spearman, Walters & Morgan out of respect for the elder statesman. Pierce left the business without much fanfare, just saying “It’s time”, giving his employees a substantial payout and walked off into the sunset.
Soon after the merger, things soured in the stock market, equities crashed and were facing a headwind of global selling. As in most industries, it’s last hired first fired, and by late 2001 Jonathan and friends soon tasted this bitter wine.
Chapter 3
A S Le Seraphim neared the Port of Acre Ian Sinclair was full of mixed emotion. As a follower of Christ he was awaiting his chance to free the holy land of the Muslim infidels, and was also hoping to have his turn searching for godly treasures that lie hidden beneath this ancient land. The walls of Acre towered over and shaded the harbor like mighty oaks from his native land. Le Seraphim slid past the Tower of Flies and nearing the Quayside the bustle of the city became apparent, with the mixture of foreign tongues and pealing of the bells from within the city walls. The Spires of St Sabas and St. Andrews churches shot skyward like arrows and Ian crossed himself, thanking God for his safe journey.
Ian had been a member of the Hospitallers order for three years, although this was his first trip to the holy land. As a young man he had been torn between becoming a monk or a warrior, as his father had been. His parents being from a wise noble family had advised him to join one of the holy orders. “There is no need to choose between the two, Ian” they said, “Combine your talent and your love and you will be happy you did. God respects and rewards that”.
On his 17th birthday Ian approached his father, informing him he did want to join one of the holy orders. His father smiled and said “I’ll take you to the Hospitallers in a fortnight. You have made a wise choice, my son”.
The Hospitallers were setup with a mandate to help the sick and injured pilgrims in the holy land but soon afterwards, the first crusade extended their mandate to a military order as well.
When Ian arrived at the Hospitallers preceptory with his sword, armor and horse, he swore his allegiance to God and the order. He was then given his black robe emblazoned with a white Maltese cross, a small wooden cross and his new name. The Prior and master of the temple approached Ian, “From this day forward you shall be known as Brother Christian Sinclair a knight of the Hospitaller Order. We are all brother knights who fight for God in the spirit and in the flesh, God Bless you Christian.” Christian was now an initiate warrior monk in name, though the next few years would make him one in spirit as well.
While the crusades were raging across the holy land Christian was yet to see true physical combat. His days were spent, from before sunrise singing hymns, praying alone in his cell or in the company of the brothers and in military training and strategy. Being naturally inclined to both prayer and sword play Christian excelled amongst his peers and within himself. He would often kneel for hours on the cold slate chapel floor so immersed in prayer he would not notice others coming and going around him. This ability to focus also enabled him to slow his opponent’s movements to a near standstill, giving him the opportunity to successfully counter every thrust and defeat most any opponent. Brother Sinclair being a good young Christian asked continually to be allowed to enter the crusades. His prior, who recognized his zealotry, tried his best to rein him in. The knights had to fight for Christendom, yet the battle would be long and arduous, so reckless zealotry was not something to be admired in them. A true warrior fights because that is his purpose and he fights wisely.
Finally, after three years, Christian had become a true warrior monk and the order finally arrived from the Grand Master that he was to enter the crusade. On the 5th of May 1289 Christian left the quiet sanctity of middle England for the stronghold of Acre in the heart of the holy land. The battle for the holy land was intensifying with the recent loss of the Port of Lattakich, Tripoli and recent attacks on Acre. Many feared the tide was turning for the worst.
Le Seraphim finally came to rest against the Quay and ropes were tossed down to workman, who quickly and skillfully, slipped them around bollards. Tightening and slackening in a beautifully orchestrated maneuver they coaxed the vessel until she was safely moored. The gangplank was then slid out onto the Quay and steadily her cargo of anxious warrior monks and pilgrims streamed their way into Acre. Christian Sinclair and his fellow Hospitallers were met on the Quay by Brother Bouton and several young Arabs. They would deliver them and their belongings through the Venetian quarter beyond the castle to St. Anthony’s gate and into the Hospitallers Ward in the northeast quarter or the city. The exoticness of Acre was nearly too much for Brother Sinclair, the ornate arches, bright geometrical tiles and quality of buildings he had never imagined possible. “This is God’s land” he thought to himself.
The Hospitallers Ward, as with all wards of the orders, was built into the outer wall of the city to ensure protection against any invading Muslims. As they arrived the Massive wooden doors swung open, leaving tiny dust devils in their wake. The courtyard of the order’s ward was scattered with holy brothers busily practicing swordsmanship in expectation of the coming battle. Christian could sense the atmosphere was tense in the ward, even as most brothers maintained an air of solemn sanctity. The new brothers were given cells, while their horses were taken into the stables below the city wall.
Christian unrolled his bedding onto the canvas cot, placed his small wooden cross in the window ledge and listened quietly to the muffled echoes of footsteps in the corridor. He then made his way along with the other monks to the small chapel for evening prayer. Smoke of Frankincense rose in gentle swirls up to the western window of the chapel as the monks started chanting “In the name of the father, son and holy spirit. Our father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name, …” Finally Christian was praying in the holy land and he felt fulfilled.