The Magic Circle Katherine Neville (top 100 novels of all time TXT) š
- Author: Katherine Neville
Book online Ā«The Magic Circle Katherine Neville (top 100 novels of all time TXT) šĀ». Author Katherine Neville
The way he was looking at me would have melted the Titanicās iceberg, and I confess it did a pretty good job on meābut that wasnāt all the ammo up his sleeve.
āIām in love with you, Ariel,ā he said simply and directly. āIf I say that there are matters in which you must simply trust me, I expect you to believe meāto believe in me. Do you understand? Is this not enough?ā
āIām afraid not,ā I told him firmly.
To do him credit, he registered no surprise, just complete attention, as if waiting for something. I wasnāt sure exactly how to say what I knew I must.
āLast night I believed I was falling in love with you, too,ā I told him sincerely. His eyes narrowed, as they had when heād passed me that first day in the annex lobby. But I couldnāt hold back my frustration. āHow could you make love to me that way,ā I said, glancing to be sure no one could overhear, āthen turn around and lie to me, as you did in the vineyard? Who is this damned āFather Virgilioā following us around like a wraith?ā
āI suppose you do deserve an explanation,ā he agreed, rubbing one hand over his eyes. Then he looked at me again with an open expression. āFather Virgilio truly is a priest from Trieste; Iāve known him for years. He has worked for me, though not in the capacity I told you earlier. More recently, by doing research here in this library. And I did want you to meet himābut not late last night when I had ā¦ other things in mind.ā He smiled a little self-consciously. āAfter all, he is a priest.ā
āThen what was all that Hans-Claus business this morning, if you knew we were coming here to meet him?ā
āI was worried last night, when you thought Virgilio looked familiar,ā Wolfgang said. āThen this morning, when I made that slip and you pursued it, it was already too late to change plans. How could I imagine youād be able to recognize him from earlier yesterday, just by one glimpse in darkness last night, and at such a distance?ā
I was getting that dĆ©jĆ -vu-all-over-again feeling as I racked my brain for when Iād seen Father Virgilio āearlier.ā But I didnāt have to ask.
āYou have every right to despise me for what Iāve done,ā said Wolfgang apologetically. āBut it was at such short notice, when I learned I wouldnāt be joining you and Dacian Bassarides for lunchāthat man is so unpredictable! I shouldnāt have been surprised if heād spirited you away and Iād never seen you again. Luckily, I had chosen a restaurant where they knew me well enough to accept Virgilio as a ātemporary employeeāāto look out for you during the afternoonāā
So that was it! No wonder heād seemed familiar to me in the vineyard. In my frenzied preoccupation yesterday afternoon at the CafĆ© Central, Iād hardly glanced at the faces around me, yet I must have registered that same figure performing some service around our table perhaps half a dozen times. Now, torn between relief and worry, I wondered just how much our impromptu busboy had overheard of our luncheon conversation. Though it seemed Wolfgang had only been trying to protect me from the vagaries of my unknown grandfather, I cursed myself for not being more vigilant, as Sam had taught me all through childhood.
But I had no chance to dwell on these thoughts. Father Virgilio, peering through the entrance doors, seemed to have decided that adequate dust had settled to cushion his return. Seeing him, Wolfgang bent toward me and spoke quickly. āIf you can read Latin half as well as you speak German, I shouldnāt comment in front of Virgilio on the first line of this manuscript of Saint Bernardās: it might embarrass him.ā
I looked down at the book and shook my head. āWhat does it say?ā
āāDivine love is reached through carnal love,āā said Wolfgang with a complicitous smile. āLater, when weāve a free moment together, Iād like to test that theory.ā
Father Virgilio had arrived with a map of Europe, a modern one. He unfolded it on a trestle table before us and said, āIt is important that from ancient times a mysterious tribe in this region held the female bear as their totem, and that they were possessed of an almost mystical reverence for a substance with many alchemical properties: salt.ā
THE BEARS
At age seven, I carried the sacred vessels ā¦ when I was ten I was a bear girl of Artemis at Brauron, dressed in the little robe of crocus-colored silk
.
āAristophanes, Lysistrata
Bernard Sorrelāthe saintās family nameāwas born in A.D. 1091, at the dawn of the Crusades. On his fatherās side he was descended from wealthy nobles of the Franche-ComtĆ©, on his motherās from the Burgundian dukes of Montbardāābear mountain.ā The family castle, Fontaines, was situated between Dijon in northern Burgundy and Troyes in the province of Champagneāa region of vineyards planted from Roman stock that were consistently under cultivation since ancient times.
Bernardās father died in the First Crusade. The young man suffered a nervous collapse when his beloved mother died also, while he was away at school. At the age of twenty-two, Bernard joined the Benedictine monks. Always of fragile health, he soon became ill, but was given a small cottage on the nearby estate of his patron Hugues de Troyes, count of Champagne, where he recuperated. The following year Count Hugues visited the Holy Land to see at first hand the Christianized kingdom of Jerusalem that had been established after the successful First Crusade. On his return, the count at once ceded part of his property to the Church: the wild valley of Clairvaux branching off the river Aube. There, at age twenty-four, Bernard Sorrel established an abbey and became first abbot of Clairvaux.
It is relevant to our story that Clairvaux is situated at the heart of the region that in ancient times encompassed todayās French Burgundy, Champagne, Franche-ComtĆ©, Alsace-Lorraine, and adjacent portions
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