“Little did they know the whole thing was planned by agents paid to expand the secret societies, by the few who gain from the motto ‘Ordo ab chao’ ‘Order out of chaos’ Which really means, ‘We will instigate chaos so we will have control as always.’”
George laughs. ”Let us hear it, old man! The French Revolution? Were the families involved?”
“Indeed,” Arthur replies. “After Jehanne’s battle with the English, nothing has changed. The system remains. From Merovingian dynasties through the Capet house, the persecution of Gallican ideals, the Cathar concept of life taken from the Byzantium ethos, the Vaudois Christian movement that believed in the words of Jesus, betrayed by their officials, corrupted Roman popes corrupting Vaudois high officers in secret, these high officials practising everything the original Vaudois were against. As is normal when you include in your belief structure the concept of ‘high officers.’”
“The cooking of women, children and men Huguenot in ovens. Yes, George! So we arrive at the beginnings of the `Revolution' where people who have long been forced to pay tithe to the Roman church suddenly have had enough.”
“Laughable really. The king wants more money, which means more tax from the people who pay tax. Debt is due from loans owed to the financial houses, the bankers the families one might say money lent to help the Americans achieve their ‘independence.’ Something the families were very
much for. Now the people have to pay for the plans of the families.
“Many aristocrats do not pay tax for military help to the king in past wars. The rich being exempt from tax, the peasants and farmers who pay tax resent. Many of the town dignitaries do not pay tax through manipulation of tax law, most of their income and wealth excluded.
“Only the peasant, the small farmers, and the ordinary city and town people pay all their supposed due. If they do not pay their house is burnt as example.
“With regards the church, forced tax is taken, peasants, farmers, the ordinary city and town people having often to pay twice for church services when church land becomes transferred to distant monastic and Bishopric ownership.”
“France is seething. Voltaire, Beccaria, Rousseau, that given to them in knowledge from the Great Encyclopdia first allowed then banned. Revolution across the ocean, assisted by the French king, a fine example. For the families, what better way to take control of the French revolutionary spirit
then through the growing movement of secret societies.
“Rosicrucian, Martinzists, the Grand Orient, Emperors of the Orient, Chevaliers of the Orient, Philalèthes. Weishaupt out of Germany, his Perfectibilists funded by the interests of the families, has his hand everywhere.
“The whip comes when ordinary villagers have difficulty paying that which told is owed, enhancing the cry within their secret society meetings: Liberty! Eqality! Fraternity!
“To get more tax for bankers pockets the King is forced by ancient law to have an Estates-General, a meeting of nobility and bourgeoisie. But in a revolutionary framework, the Estates-General becomes the impetus for delegates sent from towns and villages across the country to establish their own councils in Paris. Out of these councils, one council that incorporates the Estates-General issuing decrees, one such to have the clergy paid by the state, and all church
finances handled by the state, with pensions from the state if a clergy person could not find it within their conscience to go along with such a proposal.
“Mass resistance by the priests and nuns prompted by the Papa in Rome control through dispersement of money being a most important aspect within religious teaching, as it is with all systems of the families. One might ask what it matters the families will control through government if not religion. True! So the value to the families' mentors in inner-space will be the deaths and torture and cruelty that takes place during this ‘revolution.’”
Meg fishing in the bags for anything remaining finds a tin stacked on end. Easing the lid, seeing the twisted wax papers, she squeals, “Toffee!”
“Still warm,” Meg brings out the small packets. “Cooked in the pan this very morning.”
While they chew, Arthur returns to his talking: “Now we get to the ‘Reign of Terror.’ Marat returns from England where he has been protected. Twenty-four of the clerics who back the Pope rather than agree to the clergy state pension system, on a September day are tied, then cudgelled to death. In the forced tithing resentment built over the years, a thousand priests and nuns slaughtered.
“The guillotine in constant operation, aristocrats and their families are put to death. The ‘Reign of Terror’ ends with Marat killed in his bath-tub by his sweetheart. Saint-Just along with Robespierre underneath the guillotine.
“Napoleon Bonaparte brings his army into Paris. We all know Napoleon and his battles. Waterloo saw 15,000 men dead and wounded while serving in Nelson’s victory. 25,000 men either dead or wounded on the French side.
“Then ‘Ordo ab chao’ Order out of chaos. The system as it always is: Napoleon III with his tyranny. Then more chaos: Bismarck, the Prussian siege. Followed by the Paris Commune, communes in Lyon, Marseille and other French cities, attempts to bring free societies, or as history books tell us, the anarchism or ‘radicalisation of the workers.’
“Importation of troops are brought to Paris from areas of France who have no sympathy for the idealists, the young soldiers knowing nothing of that which these idealists are trying to achieve, fighting takes place. Order re-established. Fortunately enough French people know what the idealists are attempting, forcing the system politicians to grant a general amnesty.
“Which brings us to today. One might say things have changed for the better. That is no doubt true. That it will last is not true. Death and poverty for many will come again the way of the families. Each generation has to fight for whatever freedom they can hold onto. If they do not they will be further enslaved for that is the system of the families. Wars will proceed. The people will fight and die and pay tax for the politicians being possessed to pass more law. The system under the families will not change”
Arthur holds out his hand for the remaining toffee at the bottom of the tin.
. . .
Annabell and Milly have reached the old lane that leads to the stone ruins. Guiding Milly gently into the lane that she came down the day her uncle was killed, Annabell is glad she brought the pony. With Milly she feels Heart is near.
Thoughts of Uncle Ronald come. She has returned so
many times to where he fell, to where it all ended.
As the pony trots along the path, she thinks of a past
where on a pony smaller than Milly, she rides with uncle.
“Never force an animal upon the moors,” he said. “An
animal has special sights and instincts and will recognise
holes or danger that might be hidden.”
Taking her to Leatherleaf, Uncle Ronald points to the
bushes that surround the water. Dismounting, a few steps
and suddenly uncle Ronald’s foot has begun to sink. He has
to pull back quickly. She’d been frightened. He’d smiled. “Even where the grass appears quite solid, it is not.”
“Underneath are vast caverns,” her uncle had said as
they came away. “Grass floats upon root and the growth of
plants that live in the water. All is deceptive. “Once one
begins to sink, just struggling with the root entanglement
drags one deeper and deeper into the mire. Many have been
She asks if he knows someone who has been lost. He
said mostly he would read about a disappearance, but one
fellow who worked on the Manor farmland, Ned Sangle,
Ned had gone hunting. His horse returned.
When they went searching all that remained was his hat
resting upon grass that floated. They could not recover the
body. Never got the hat. “It’s easy to misjudge where the
water begins,” he had said. “Especially when night comes.
Ned would hunt at night.”
Milly trotting down the overgrown path reaches where the path widens, quickens as she smells the stream water. By the stream, off the pony, Annabell kisses Milly on the neck. “Drink, my love. We will rest here. I will sit here under
these branches and watch.”
In a cluster of trees, leaning against a bough where she faces towards the open moors, time seems to stop. Perfume that Annabell has draws a bee, hovering for a moment. In the quietness only the water gurgles.
Thoughts move to Bear and the cottage he had planned
as an escape from the big house. A stab of pain shoots
Behind are the ruins, the entrance to the courtyard
where her uncle lay. ‘Dear uncle Ronald, had it not been
for me you would be with Aunt Constance now.’
Idly she plays with the folding of her riding skirt. Many
moments of thoughts of her uncle come, thoughts of that which they have done together
Shaping the softness of her hat, laying her head down,
‘I wonder where I will be. I wonder when. I wish... I wish
your words could guide me, uncle.’
She calls, “Uncle! Uncle can you hear me?”
Milly at the sound, looks across at her.
A few clouds
seem to draw as they float slowly overhead. Her eyes now
closed, she drops into sleep. Water, leatherleaf
is in front of her. The water waiting, afraid, she is stepping,
gliding it seems. She should be falling, but a leatherleaf has
her, a leatherleaf has captured her, a leatherleaf seems to
be holding her.
Milly is nudging at her hair.
“Hello, my love.” Annabell’s eyes open.
“Why, how my wits delay me. Is it not astonishing that
I linger here.” Then she laughs suddenly. It might be the
first time she has laughed, it has been so long.
Milly gives a wet kiss with her tongue.
“Oh! You’re going to smother me.” Annabell wipes her
cheeks, her nose with her skirt.
Now on her knees, she places her arms upon Milly. “My
love, you are such a comfort. I know now you are here for
Tears stream, all the agony pours forth: ‘Dear Heart. I
know, I know, my love! But it was my foolishness. I cannot
bring him back. I have to tell him I’m sorry.’
In a moment of despair she gets up, clambers over the
stream, runs out into the fen.
The pony clops after her and she shouts, “You will find
your way home. You will tell them, Milly, for they will want
Then in the distance she sees two boys riding. Is that
Æthelred the young deacon? She recognises his hat.
“Milly,” Annabell holds out a hand for the pony. “We’ll
speak with them, my love. I have quite forgotten. We’ll ask
Æthelred which direction to Leatherleaf we must go.”
. . .
Beginning their return back, suddenly they have to stop.
Stumbling over a stone, Constance grabs Meg. “I’m so
sorry,” she exclaims as soon as Meg has steadied her.
Constance’s fingers feel around the ankle. “Hold me a
moment longer, Meg.” Patting around the outside of the
Wellington, “Should I take off the boot? Do you mind
waiting with me?”
George and Arthur helping her to sit upon the path. “I don’t think there is a sprain,” Constance gingerly pulls off the boot, feels around where there is pain. Another feel. “It’s barely noticeable.” She glances at Meg. “You will help me if we let these two go.”
“We are not going,” Arthur answers.
Gently placing the Wellington back over her foot, “If
you can help.” Each grab an arm, bring Constance to her feet. The foot stepped upon, more weight upon it. “It seems to be fine. I am sure if we walk, it will correct itself.”
“We will walk slower,” says Arthur, and if needs we will
get a horse. “Let us know!”
“Just a little slower,” Constance bends again to
pat her ankle. Straightening herself, the three standing
around her, “Arthur, your trip to Languedoc, tell Meg and
George.” Constance winks at Meg. “Southern France! It’s a great tale.”
Arthur bows in the formal way. “If you say, my dear.” He looks at Meg and George. “It goes a long way back.”
“Stop me thinking about my foot, Arthur!”
“I will, my dear.” A couple of deep breaths. “I really prayed for Henrietta’s recovery. The symptoms indicated a slow poison. Going to a specialist in Paris we knew, the awful news was that she might not recover. ‘Let’s go down. Henrietta was firm, ’To the old chapel that had been restored by priest Bérenger Saunière, she meant. One of Henrietta's passion was Mary Magdalene. Languedoc she believed was where Jesus visited Mary. At least part of him.”
“Part of him?” asks George.
“His visits to the apostles may have been in his, as you
would call it, Astral, star body, or ghost state, lowering its
energy into this frequency. Henrietta said his body seen
after the crucifixion would not have been his mortal body. When death takes place in the human body, all groundings
change. With Jesus, the disappearance of his physical body
would have meant a very fast frequency change into the
ether, no long physical decay.”
“So it is possible, with mind controlling the lowered-in-frequency inner body, that Jesus had a life with Mary, and
a life in India. Records have him die in India. Languedoc
has tales of him being there. He may well have travelled to
the British Isles from Languedoc with Joseph of Arimathea,
the wealthy trader. Tin Joseph’s interest in this isle.”
“For a long time I had difficulty believing Jesus existed,
but I couldn’t get away from the story of Pontius Pilate.
All the rest of the fable to me came out of the past long
before Jesus. So many crucifixions. So many saviours born on the 25th, as the sun rests in the south after the solstice for three days, only to be resurrected to give us in the north warmth. The story of the Virgin Mother, how
many other tales of saviours having virgin births? So Jesus
himself if he was real was not the person depicted in the
Bible, that is how I believed.
“But when it came to Pontius Pilate asking the crowd
who they wanted to be released on this special night, there
was some originality there. The violent Jesus Barabbas, a person with the name Bar Abbâ, meaning ‘son of the father’ in Aramaic, included in the story because Jesus, Yeshua the rabbi, would speak of himself as being the son of the father.
“Records in other bibles do indicate there is a Jesus, a
Yeshua Bar Abbâ who is a bandit, Jesus, Yeshua, being as
common a name then as George or Arthur is now.
“Pilate telling the crowd they had a choice between
Yeshua the rabbi, and Yeshua the bandit, to me this part
of the story has a ring of truth. If I were Pilate I would do
the same thing. Pilate would have been able to see there
was something about the man Yeshua the rabbi that was
“So Pilate, stuck in a politically difficult situation, no
one wants to oppose priests, perhaps bring on a whole new
vengeful war in the name of the Jewish God, Pilate wanted
to make sure he, himself, would not be convicted by his
Gods. Convicted for having put to death such a one as
Yeshua the rabbi, who might in his realm be a God, as
Pilate understood Gods. So the washing of his hands in
“The next question is what has Yeshua the rabbi done
to make the crowd choose Yeshua the bandit for release,
who is said to have caused death in his acts of violence. The rabbi has done no harm, only good to the ordinary person. The harm he has done has been to the Pharisees and the Scribes, for he has been saying you people who listen to me don’t need them to reach, to pray to your
‘Father.’ You can do it on your own. It is the only way to
reach your ‘Father.’
“Yeshua the rabbi, stories of his miracles, his god-like
ability to change reality, as these tales spread surely the
crowd would have heard. What made them do as they did?
“One might say the crowd was not that large. All there
had been paid by the priests to call for the release of Jesus
Barabbas. One could say the crowd have become convinced
by the priests that Yeshua the rabbi is not who he says he is.
Someone with such great power, why would he allow himself
into this situation? The fact that he has been whipped
proves that he is man, nothing more than man. A god
would not allow such. Nor would a saviour. Many saviours
have been crucified, but are the crowd aware of this? Knowledge outside an ordinary Jewish person’s religious teaching.
“Why does Jesus allow that which take takes place in
the story? This idea he dies to save humankind from hell worlds, to me this is straight from the press or at that time spoken lies of the families. They revel in it. They revel in having the heard believe in that which to them is nonsense.
“Why does Jesus allow himself to be whipped and then
crucified, if this is what happened. I would say because he
could not stop them.”
“He could not stop them,” repeats George
“No! It wasn’t part of the rule of The Game
“Because inside The Game
if it hasn’t been agreed then it isn’t going to happen,” says George. “Agreed by the right and left players.”
“Exactly,” replies Arthur. “An agreement that miracles happen, if they did, I believe they did. An agreement that Jesus could be harmed?
“I myself have seen miracles happen on an individual level, not many people around, no profound after-situation. There’s always a balancing between the players, but The Game
would not be interesting if the players did not have choice.
“On a larger scale, parting of the waves in the trek from Egypt would be an agreement of the left and right. Within these larger events the play becomes to see what will happen, how many within The Game
“Jesus entering The Game
had some agreement, but not that he would be immune from human violence, as whipping from a guard, or being nailed upon a cross.
“Unless of course Jesus had agreed this could happen to
him. Something that takes us into the area of his accepting
pain and shedding his blood for others. Whether to all in
the world is your choice.
“If Jesus entering The Game
playing as a God might mean
his pain, his blood, has special merit to those playing Gods
within The Game
. I leave this to consider.
“Pilate, skilled in law, attempted to get Yeshua the
rabbi to say he was ‘God,’ or better ‘King of the Jews,’ for
that would have made him a criminal under Roman law.
That is until his wife came to Pilate telling him she had an
inner message, a vision, a dream, however it is interpreted.
“Yeshua the rabbi never called himself God, and he
never has called himself King of the Jews, not to Pilate,
nor anyone in all his preaching. All he will say is that his
father is in heaven.
“The Councils of Constantine politically making him a God within the Great God, complete this meaning. Or as we have in Trinitarianism, one of three Gods that are part of the one God. Straight from the families.
“The joke to me is where are we in this? Are we not
also part of God?”
“Ah! ‘But Jesus was God before he came down here. We aren’t!’ That to me is pure families’ doctrine, its purpose to keep us enslaved.”
“Jesus was saying, my opinion you take it for what it is
worth, is that his ‘creator’ is in heaven. The only way he is able to express reality he knows in his human brain, or give a reasoning that the crowd will understand.
“How could he make people recognise the strangeness, the miracles happening around him, he was not waving a magic wand to make this happen? Yeshua the rabbi was not creating these miracles. The strangeness being created when he gave his teaching, his philosophy how best to live. This came from a higher frequency.”
“This is not about Languedoc, Arthur.”
Arthur turns, laughs. “How is you foot?”
Constance, stops, bends, pats around the ankle. “They
say if you are not truly hurt, walking can be beneficial.
You walk off the hurt. There is some pain, not enough to stop. I think I am walking off the hurt. But I cannot walk fast.”
“No need,” says George.
“Henrietta believed Languedoc is where Mary spent
her last Earth days,” says Arthur. “She wanted us to go and see the church built upon the area of a much older church. My choice was to return in a quick boat across the channel.”
He stops himself, smiles, “The stories of the renovation
are true, the chapel has been remarkably redone.”
A shiver goes through him. “Those first moments. Then
the pedestal with the four angels.”
“Four angels?” asks George.
“One angel holds her hand at her brow, another her
hand against her left shoulder, one by the robe of her right
shoulder. One clutches her breast. The four signs mark the
Christian cross. A message in French is underneath. I did
not read the message correctly my eyes playing tricks. I
believed the message was: