The Stone of Madness Read online

  ‘Precisely,’ agreed Spydre, ‘and it was just such a group—the Esoteric Brotherhood—that arose towards the end of the fifteenth century, and ultimately attracted the likes of one Alfons Piotrowski.’

  ‘What do you know of Esotericism, Cornelius?’

  ‘That is not such an easy question to answer, as well you know, Henry,’ replied Spydre, his attempt at a sardonic grin distorting his misshapen features.

  ‘Esotericism per se was not a single tradition, but an amalgamation of various ideals and beliefs that first became manifest during the Renaissance. Ask any number of intellectuals to define it, and you will receive many different interpretations. To some, the word is synonymous with the occult, while, to others, it is associated with the secret teachings of the arcane. In religious circles, Esotericism came to be associated with the understanding of religious principles through experiment rather than dogma. For some, it is one and the same as Hermeticism, but for me, it represents a fusion of many concepts. I believe it evolved from an occult philosophy of the Renaissance and diverged into areas as varied as Alchemy, Paracelsianism, Rosicrucianism, Kabbalah, Theosophy, and more latterly, various occultist sects of the nineteenth and twentieth century.’

  ‘And what about the Esoteric Brotherhood itself?’ Price asked.

  ‘Ah, now that is a question to which you know as much, or perhaps, I suspect, as little, as I do.’

  ‘Yes,’ agreed Price. ‘Not much is known of the Brotherhood, I’m afraid, but there’s one name that stands out. Piotrowski’s manuscript makes reference to certain members, but the majority of the names are insignificant. Hieronymus Bosch is still considered one of the greatest Dutch artists ever to have lived. Examples of his work hang in some of the most famous galleries throughout the world, yet what is not generally known is that he was also one of the founder members of the Esoteric Brotherhood.’

  Spydre nodded sagely. ‘As I learnt from your notes. What else do you know?’

  ‘Bosch was born in ’s-Hertogenbosch in 1451 and spent most of his life there. He was a prolific painter known for his enigmatic panels illustrating complex religious subjects containing fantastic, often demonic, imagery with references to astrology, folklore, witchcraft and alchemy, in addition to the theme of the Antichrist. Piotrowski makes reference to Bosch in his manuscript and alludes to hidden meanings and secret messages hidden in his work. Art historians have consistently debated the nature of Bosch’s work, but his association with a brotherhood of hermetical cultists is largely unknown. For this reason, Bosch’s work is widely interpreted as a labyrinth of late medieval Christian iconography with a preoccupation for the human propensity to commit sin in defiance of God, as well as with God’s eternal damnation of lost souls in hell as a fateful consequence of human folly.’

  ‘And if I understand you correctly, Henry, what you are suggesting is that if we re-examine Bosch’s work in light of his link with Hermeticism, it is possible that there may be alternative interpretations of his works.’

  ‘Precisely! It may be that information fundamental to the Esoteric Brotherhood was hidden in Bosch’s work as a means of relaying information to the brethren without incurring the wrath of outsiders, especially the Church. What better way of encoding information to other occultists than hidden in art supposedly purporting to tackle big religious themes of the time. Ingenious, I’d say.’

  ‘You may be right. It is definitely worth researching. Give me some time and I will see what I can come up with,’ Spydre said excitedly. ‘After all, it is not as if I will be going anywhere,’ he added, surveying the book-filled room and giving Price another skewed grin.

  Price smiled sympathetically and said, ‘You mentioned earlier that the stolen manuscript was incomplete.’

  Spydre nodded. ‘Remember the notes that you sent me? You highlighted an inscription written in Latin at the start of the book.’

  ‘I remember,’ said Price.

  ‘The inscription intrigues me,’ continued Spydre. ‘As you may recall, written inside the front cover are the words “cave ab homine unus libri”, which translate to “beware the man of one book”.’

  ‘At first, I thought this was merely a straightforward proverb— albeit one I had never heard before—indicating a man who is not wise, but the deeper I delved into the book, the more I began to wonder. It is possible that the phrase is not so much a statement but more a warning. Eventually, I came round to the possibility that Piotrowski was hinting at the existence of a second copy of the manuscript.’

  ‘Go on, Cornelius,’ Price urged.

  ‘I took the liberty of contacting an old friend of mine, Markus De Wolff. He is the curator of the Bibliotheca Philosophica Hermetica in Amsterdam. It is a small, privately funded library that contains many books of great scientific and artistic value and houses the single biggest collection of books in the world pertaining to the Hermetic tradition. I was surprised to learn that Markus knew of the book. He told me that only two copies were ever written, and amazingly, a copy is held there. I proceeded to quiz him a little more assiduously and discovered that the book residing with him is somewhat different from your own.’

  Price raised his eyebrows but passed no comment.

  ‘In the notes you sent me, and correct me if I am wrong, Henry, you state that the text is one hundred and eighty pages long.’

  ‘If that’s what I wrote then I’ve no reason to doubt it,’ replied Price.

  ‘Good. Now, I hope you do not mind, but I took the liberty of discussing your notes with Markus. What is interesting is that the book held in Amsterdam is longer by a single page, raising a very important question: why should the only two copies of this book be different?’ Spydre took a sip of scotch and smacked his lips. ‘The book clearly interested you at some stage, judging by the extensive notes you made. Why exactly is that?’

  ‘It was a long time ago, and it reawakens some memories that, in some ways, I’d rather leave undisturbed. Nonetheless, I fear I no longer have a choice in the matter.

  ‘I acquired the book some years ago. It was at a time when the Order of Eternal Enlightenment was gaining popularity and followers at will, but I knew Pearly Black and his motives all too well. I set up the Council to counter the threat but gaining evidence to prove Black’s true motives was difficult. I set out to learn all I could of the Order, which took me on a trail that eventually led back to the Esoteric Brotherhood.’

  ‘Which clearly demonstrates a link between the Order and Piotrowski’s manuscript. How very interesting!’ said Spydre, evidently enjoying the conversation. ‘What did you find out?’

  ‘The Esoteric Brotherhood began as a sect of individuals interested in only the darker aspects of Hermeticism. They gradually evolved into an underground brotherhood of occultists who, it was rumoured, made a startling alchemical discovery. This secret was made accessible to only the highest disciples of the group, although there is no record of what happened to their knowledge. Men of great stature were associated with the Brotherhood for the hundred years or so that it flourished. Eventually, and for whatever reason, the group dwindled and apparently disappeared. That is not to say, of course, that the Brotherhood ceased to exist. The Freemasons and Rosicrucians had similar origins to the Brotherhood, and although their ideals may differ from the time of their inception, they still thrive today in one form or another.’

  ‘And the link you found between the Order and the Brotherhood?’

  ‘During the time Black was at the Academy, he became embroiled with the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn. The Golden Dawn originated in the nineteenth century and were involved in occult theurgical practice, and while they shared the same ideology as Black, it didn’t take him long to fall out with them. Soon after he left, the Order first appeared, and you’re well aware of what happened next.’

  Spydre nodded but did not interrupt.

  ‘I began by trying to learn more of the Golden Dawn. They are said to have descended from Rosicrucianism, a Hermetic movement with
origins in the fifteenth century. There are rumours that the Brotherhood and Rosicrucianism were closely allied, and it wouldn’t be difficult to imagine a link between the Golden Dawn and the Brotherhood. The beliefs of the Golden Dawn are based on ritual and spiritual alchemy, an affinity they also share with the Brotherhood, which may explain why Black aligned himself with the Golden Dawn. My greatest concern was that Black somehow managed to gain access to the Brotherhood’s secret, which is why I sought out Piotrowski’s manuscript. Now, with its theft, my fears have returned.’

  Spydre nodded uneasily. ‘I see. It would appear that the manuscript residing in Amsterdam might be of use to us. I am sure Markus would allow us access. It may help to understand why the book was stolen and whether the difference between the two copies is relevant. If you are happy to wait a little longer, I will speak with Markus now.’

  Price smiled affably, nodding his head in assent. He was in no hurry to leave while he was enjoying the calming effect of the scotch and the intriguing conversation with his friend. Spydre smiled back as best he could before slowly rising from the chair and shuffling towards the opening in the bookcase.

  It was almost fifteen minutes before Spydre returned. Following his brief excursion to the shop’s rear, his breathing was laboured, and his face glistened with sweat.

  ‘I fear we may need to … move a little quicker than … perhaps I had anticipated,’ Spydre said between great heaving breaths.

  ‘What is it?’ said Price.

  ‘Markus would be more than happy … to allow us to scrutinise his copy,’ Spydre said as he slumped back into the chair then paused for a moment to regain his breath. ‘He wondered why I was so interested in this particular work, and so I explained to him about the theft.’

  ‘What!’

  ‘Do not worry, my friend. I can assure you that Markus is trustworthy,’ said Spydre.

  ‘Very well, Cornelius, but what’s the problem?’

  ‘Markus was intrigued that we should be so interested in Piotrowski’s manuscript as his own copy received the attention of a particular individual some years ago. The library was even offered a considerable sum of money for the book, which I am pleased to say was declined.’

  ‘Don’t keep me in suspense, Cornelius. Who was the mystery buyer?’ demanded Price.

  Spydre paused for a moment then exclaimed, ‘Pearly Black!’

  Price gasped. He had not been expecting this news and suddenly felt a great wave of anxiety wash over him. He sat for some minutes staring vacantly ahead, lost in thought, before he eventually stirred. ‘You’re right, Cornelius, this changes everything. It’s the incontrovertible evidence linking the manuscript with the Order,’ he said, rubbing his chin pensively. ‘At least I know what to do next. I shall to go to Amsterdam to see the manuscript for myself.’

  ‘I think that is a very sensible decision, Henry, as I fear there is more. Markus also informed me that there is a short paragraph of additional text on the final page that is written in code. I am worried that this code might be hiding the Brotherhood’s secret.’

  Price looked aghast. ‘But if that’s the case, then surely whoever was searching for the Brotherhood’s secret would have taken the copy from Amsterdam.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ said Spydre circumspectly, ‘but I suspect we may be missing something here. The Bibliotheca Hermetica Philosophica has held their copy of Piotrowski’s manuscript for many years, and during this time, it has been subject to the most fearsome scrutiny from some of the finest Dutch mathematicians and cryptologists, yet all their attempts to decipher it have failed. Why should that be, I ask myself?’

  ‘No idea,’ replied Price. ‘Perhaps they just weren’t up to it.’

  ‘You do not honestly believe that, do you, Henry?’

  ‘I must admit it seems unlikely.’

  ‘Let me suggest an alternative explanation. Perhaps both copies have to be held together to decipher the code. This would explain why your copy has never yielded anything of use and why attempts to decipher the code have ended in failure. Remember the Latin proverb at the start of the book. As I surmised earlier, Piotrowski was indicating that one book alone is useless. I have heard of codes that require a keyword to decipher them. Perhaps that is the purpose of your copy, Henry. Was there anything about the book that was unusual in any way?’

  ‘Not that I recall, but if your theory is correct, then an attempt will be made to acquire the other book.’

  ‘Quite so,’ replied Spydre steadfastly. ‘We must do everything in our power to prevent it from falling into the same hands that took your own. I will contact Markus immediately to warn him, and if you let me know when you are planning to travel, I will make the necessary arrangements at the other end.’

  ‘Thank you, Cornelius. The Council meeting is scheduled for Wednesday. I’ll leave as soon as it’s over. Perhaps you’d be kind enough to inform Markus?’

  Spydre nodded. ‘Of course. Leave it with me.’

  ‘I’ll be in touch,’ said Price, getting up and leaning forwards to shake hands with Spydre, who remained seated.

  Price turned and made his way out of the shop into the damp evening air. The street outside was deserted, but as he trudged home, he was overcome by a great sense of unease and a multitude of thoughts that swirled aimlessly inside his head.

  8

  THE STONE OF MADNESS

  The Vigenère Cipher

  THE WALLS OF THE natural cavern were damp with condensation. Small droplets of water trickled silently down the slick stone surface and collected in small pools in the concave irregularities of the floor. In one place, the water had formed a tiny rivulet that weaved like a silver thread towards the sump in the centre of the cave, then fell with a steady drip into the brine that had risen with the tide.

  Josef Frankl held the manuscript aloft while carefully studying the expressions of those surrounding him. No one stirred or passed comment, waiting for him to continue, but he, too, remained silent. The light thrown by the candles set irregularly around the cavern’s floor had dulled imperceptibly in the time since their arrival.

  ‘It would help if you told us exactly what you have there, Josef,’ said Aurelia eventually. ‘It’s far too dark in here to see. What is it?’ she added impatiently.

  ‘This manuscript, my friends, was languishing in the library of an old friend of ours just a few days ago,’ Frankl replied calmly.

  His former confederates from the days of the Order squinted at him blankly while Styx looked away, disinterested.

  ‘Henry Price!’ exclaimed Frankl, spitting out the name with disgust. ‘He has held this book for some years, but it was formerly the property of a group of alchemists known as the Esoteric Brotherhood. It was hand-written by one of their brethren, Alfons Piotrowski, and passed down to only the most privileged of their secret society,’ he continued grandiosely.

  ‘Ah, I see I’ve struck a chord with you, Abel,’ he said, noting the look of recognition that flashed across Strange’s face.

  Strange fidgeted uneasily under Frankl’s intense gaze. ‘Er … yes,’ he replied hesitantly.

  Frankl nodded his encouragement. ‘Tell us what you know of it, Abel.’

  ‘Er, well … some of you may have already heard of the, er, Esoteric Brotherhood. They were a group of alchemists that existed over five hundred years ago; Pearly was obsessed with them because of a potent secret they had supposedly discovered. This secret was so intrinsically dangerous, it was as much to be feared as it was revered, and only the most influential of the group were ever allowed access to it. The Brotherhood were determined that it should never fall into the wrong hands. They guarded it jealously, but what happened to the Brotherhood or their secret is a mystery because they vanished over a hundred years after they first appeared.’

  ‘Did Pearly ever discover their secret, Abel?’ said Lex.

  ‘As far as I’m, er, aware, he never learnt the truth, but he was so preoccupied with Piotrowski’s manuscript, he managed to track d
own a copy residing in a library in Amsterdam. He spent a considerable time studying it and was so convinced of its importance that he even attempted to purchase it.’

  Lex frowned. ‘What happened?’

  ‘They wouldn’t sell it to him, deeming the book far too valuable despite the considerable sum he offered them.’

  ‘Quite so, Abel, quite so,’ agreed Frankl with a nod of his head and a flash of large, irregular teeth.

  ‘Well, well, Josef, it seems that by acquiring this book, you’ve managed something that was beyond even Pearly,’ said Aurelia. ‘Tell me, does it reveal this mystical secret you refer to? The suspense is killing me,’ she added scornfully.

  ‘Your mockery does not become you, Aurelia. I find it hard to believe that recovering an item Pearly so coveted does not kindle your curiosity.’

  ‘Maybe it does, but I can’t help wondering what you aim to achieve with this book. When Pearly died, our aspirations died with him, which is why I’ve never shared your preoccupation with the Order’s resurrection.’

  ‘An interesting philosophy, but perhaps you should wait until you learn the secret of the Esoteric Brotherhood before being so judgmental,’ replied Frankl.

  ‘All right, Josef, go ahead. Tell us this secret.’

  ‘I hate to disappoint you, but at this present moment … I have nothing to reveal,’ Frankl said melodramatically. He stared intently at Aurelia through beetle-black eyes and allowed a smile to flicker across his lips, enjoying the sudden anticlimax.

  ‘I should have guessed! You bring us here on the pretext of some earth-shattering discovery only to tell us you know nothing. What’s in this manuscript, anyway?’ Aurelia demanded, spitting the words out with contempt.

  ‘Ah, Aurelia, you haven’t changed. You always were so quick to jump to conclusions. I’ve learnt much from this manuscript, and it’s only a matter of time before I unravel the Brotherhood’s secret. I’ve been following the trail Pearly left for me for many years now, and it’s only recently that I’ve discovered what he truly expected of me.’