Thief on the Cross: Templar Secrets in America (Templars in America Series Book 2)

by David S. Brody

  “Okay so far. If anybody from that time could sail across the Atlantic it would have been the Phoenicians. Their boats were bigger than the ones Columbus sailed.”

  “Agreed. Now take a look at this.” January pushed a Burrows Cave artifact across the table.

  Thorne examined the carving, which portrayed a curved-bow ship on the water with the moon, the sun and what appeared to be some stars in the sky above it. “Is that the Little Dipper?”

  BURROWS CAVE URSA MINOR STONE

  “Yes. And this is an important point. The only ancient culture known to have used the Little Dipper, or Ursa Minor, as a navigational reference was the Phoenicians. In fact, no other ancient culture even sailed at night.”

  January continued. “And what we find on the Burrows Cave artifacts is Phoenician writing dating from exactly this period. And I’ve already shown you the sandstone head, which fits neatly into Phoenician religious practices of the day.”

  Thorne shifted in his chair. “You’re going to need more than a couple of artifacts to prove your case.”

  “Fair enough.” January bent down and, using all his strength, hoisted a keyboard-sized marble slab onto the table. The image displayed two seated bird-faced women facing each other in profile, each holding a cat on a leash. “The Egyptian male gods Horus and Ra-Horakhty are often depicted with bird heads, but no Egyptian goddesses have bird features. The use of the bird face on a female body indicates a Greek influence, which didn’t pervade the Middle East until around 600 BC.”

  BURROWS CAVE BIRD-FACE STONE

  January waited while Thorne studied the slab. “What’s interesting about this carving,” January said, “is the combination of Greek and Egyptian motifs: the bird-faces indicate a Greek influence while the use of cats is Egyptian. No similar examples exist in museums. Some would argue this shows the carvings to be the work of an amateur forger. I believe a forger who went to the trouble of carving thousands of pieces would not have been so careless as to make such a fundamental error; it would have been easy to simply copy from a book at the library. I believe instead this piece is unique and demonstrates a branch of religious worship—a hybrid—otherwise unknown to scholars.”

  “Unknown to scholars because the worshipers of this hybrid religion left the Middle East and came here.”

  “Precisely.”

  Thorne scribbled a few more notes. “So your evidence indicates there were Phoenicians here in the sixth century BC. But it doesn’t show they were Mormons or Nephites or whatever you call them.”

  “That’s a common misunderstanding. The Book of Mormon doesn’t claim the Nephites were Mormons. It says they were Israelis, led by a man named Nephi. And it is likely, as we agreed, that there were Phoenicians in their traveling party. So these artifacts are perfectly consistent with the story told in the Book of Mormon.”

  Thorne stared out the window for a few seconds. He leaned forward. “So what’s your problem then? If the artifacts fit so neatly with your theory, why do you need me?”

  “Yes, why indeed? The answer is because they don’t all fit so neatly. In addition to the Phoenician artifacts from the sixth century BC, there are a number of stones that exhibit scenes from the first century AD. Specifically, images of Jesus Christ and the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem. Obviously, these events would not have been known to the Nephites journeying 500 years earlier.”

  “So how do you explain them? Divine intervention?”

  Thorne was masking his curiosity with insolence. In his younger days January would have reached over and cuffed him. But there was no time for that stuff now. And his guest did have a right to be peeved. “No. I am a man of reason, though my faith is also strong. I have come to believe there were two waves of travelers. The second group came in the first century AD. Do you recall the map stone photo I mailed you?”

  Thorne nodded. “It shows the Mississippi River and its tributaries.”

  “Correct. And I believe that was carved by the original wave of travelers. Here it is.” He unwrapped the paperback-sized stone and handed it across the table to Thorne.

  BURROWS CAVE MAP STONE

  Thorne studied it, turning it in the light as January spoke.

  “If this were a road map, and you were heading north on the Mississippi, I would tell you to take your second right onto the Ohio River, then a left onto the Wabash River and then another left. That would put you on the Embarras River in southern Illinois, the river you saw in the distance last night. Note the symbols where that river ends. One is a horizontal line with four short vertical lines which I believe represents a stockade structure built for defensive purposes. The other figure, below the stockade as if being guarded by it, is igloo-shaped with an archway—this clearly symbolizes a cave. Burrows Cave.”

  “Okay, I’ll buy that. But then what’s the other cave marking south of it, on the Ohio River?”

  “That’s Cave-In-Rock, an enormous cave carved into the limestone by the river. It was famous during pioneering times as a haven for outlaws. But there are reports from the early 1800s of Egyptian and Roman hieroglyphs carved on its wall. Now it’s covered by graffiti. No doubt those writings would have told an interesting story.” January shrugged. “Who knows how many other artifacts have been lost to time?”

  “Have you translated the writing?”

  “The words are basically labels—‘cave,’ ‘river branch,’ ‘village.’ Each dot signifies a day’s journey.”

  He allowed Thorne a few seconds to study the map. “You may note that the carving shows the Mississippi emptying into the Gulf of Mexico well east of its modern course. According to geologists, this map shows the river’s ancient course.” He smiled. “Pretty sophisticated work for a hoaxster, don’t you think?”

  Thorne ignored the question, though January sensed he was moved by the logic of the analysis. January continued. “As I said, this is an early map, representing the first wave of explorers. By the time the second wave came, the Nephites and Lamanites had spread eastward.” He handed Thorne a second black stone, a bit larger than the first.

  BURROWS CAVE MAP STONE

  “You’ll notice that Burrows Cave is again marked with the igloo shape, just below the stockade. But this time the map shows the entire Ohio River valley, all the way into Pennsylvania and southern New York. This is the historic home of the Mandan tribe, before they were pushed into North Dakota.”

  Thorne’s eyes widened. “This is the region where the Bat Creek Stone and the Ohio Decalogue Stone were found.”

  “And many others you are not aware of. Eventually they will all be on display at the Foxwoods museum.”

  Thorne turned the map stone over. Along the top of the back of the map stone ran a series of slash marks, as if someone were keeping count. An equal number ran across the bottom. “What are these?” Thorne asked.

  “If you count them you’ll see that there are 40 slashes along the top and another 40 along the bottom. Each represents a generation. The stone has been in Astarte’s family for 80 generations.”

  “Astarte?”

  January smiled. “We’re getting a bit ahead of ourselves. She’s the little girl from the museum.”

  Thorne turned the map back over. “So you think this second map stone was carved in the first century by a group of refugees from the Mediterranean region.”

  “Yes.” He paused, making sure Thorne’s eyes were on his. “And I believe some of Jesus Christ’s family members were part of this group.”

  “Which ones? I know they fled Jerusalem.”

  “Like many others, I believe Jesus and Mary Magdalene had a child, and that Mary brought that child, Sarah, to the south of France and raised her there. And this plays a part later in our story. But now I am talking about Jesus’ niece, Anna, daughter of Jesus’ brother Jude. She was named after her grandmother Hannah, mother of the Virgin Mary. After Jesus was crucified, Jude went to the northern African kingdom of Mauretania to preach—this is the present-day Morocco.”
<
br />   “I’ve never heard of Jude or Anna.”

  “The Church doesn’t like to discuss or even acknowledge the family of Jesus—it makes him seem too human. But there are Roman accounts of the Desposyni, the family of Jesus. The Romans were very concerned his followers would rally around one of his brothers. Most of the family members were killed; a few fled Jerusalem. Jude ended up in Mauretania, as I said.”

  “Okay, continue.”

  “At that time Mauretania was ruled by King Juba II and Queen Cleopatra Selene, the daughter of the famous Cleopatra and Mark Anthony. Anna married into this Mauretanian royal family.” He paused for effect. “Her marriage united the dynastic bloodlines of Jesus Christ and Queen Cleopatra.”

  Thorne sat back. “I never really think of Jesus and Cleopatra being of the same historical era. But it makes sense—they only lived, what, a generation apart?”

  “Yes. She died in 30 BC.”

  “So these Mauretanian royals had some pretty impressive ancestors—Uncle Jesus and Grandma Cleopatra.” He shook his head. “And you think these are the people who came to Burrows Cave.”

  “Correct. During the first century Mauretania was populated by merchants and refugees from all over Europe and the Mediterranean, much as Morocco is today. Eventually it became quite wealthy, predominantly from the sale of purple dye which Roman nobility prized for their garments. When the Roman Emperor Caligula began to run short of funds, some time around 40 AD, he sent an invading army to raid King Juba’s treasury. But when the army arrived, a large segment of the population, including the royal family and many members of the merchant class, had fled. And the treasury was empty. The fleeing Mauretanians were never heard from again. One theory is that they followed ancient Phoenician maps and sailed across the Atlantic to the Gulf of Mexico, and from there up the Mississippi River. It makes sense they would have interacted and perhaps settled with other Mediterranean peoples once they got close to the Burrows Cave area.”

  “You’re assuming your Book of Mormon is correct and there actually were other Mediterranean people here.”

  “Yes, I am assuming that. But the artifacts are consistent with that assumption.”

  Thorne nodded. “Okay. Your theory that would explain the eclectic nature of the artifacts. The merchants represented many different cultures and therefore carved many different kinds of artifacts—Roman, Jewish, Greek, African, Phoenician, Christian, whatever.”

  “Exactly. Artifacts that all date to the late first century.” January sipped some water. His body ached, and he could feel his heart throbbing just to keep blood flowing to his organs. His fingers were white and cold. Not much longer. “The Book of Mormon speaks of a ‘time of peace,’ during which the two tribes—I forgot to mention that the Nephites split into two groups, the opposing group being called the Lamanites—finally stopped fighting each other. I believe this ‘time of peace’ was brought on by the arrival of the Mauretanian refugees, including the young bride Anna.”

  “The niece of Jesus,” Thorne said.

  “Yes. Anna’s children were the first American royalty. Astarte’s mother is Anna’s direct descendant, her bloodline guarded and protected to prevent contamination.” January paused. “Only once was a new line added to it. Only once in 2,000 years.”

  “Only once,” Thorne repeated, sighing. January knew Thorne’s curiosity would allay his frustration and anger over Amanda’s abduction. “All right, I’ll bite. What was added to this royal bloodline? And when?”

  For January, this was where it all began. He would need Thorne to finish the journey for him. “In the late 12th century a group of six Templar Knights, accompanied by a French noblewoman by the name of Marie-Claire, traveled across the Northern Atlantic in search of Anna’s bloodline. They ended up in the Catskills region of New York.” He smiled. “This, I’m sure, is not too hard for you to believe.”

  His guest shifted in his seat. “The trip itself is not hard for me to believe. I still have my doubts about the Anna bloodline stuff. I assume you have some evidence of this journey?”

  “Of course.” From his briefcase on the floor January pulled a burgundy leather folio the size a coffee table book. He carefully laid the object flat on the table and unclasped the brass latch. Inside rested about a dozen sheets of ancient parchment, each sleeved in a pocket of air-tight protective plastic. He pushed the folio toward Cam. “Please be gentle. The pages you are looking at are over 800 years old. We call it the Clairvaux Codex, after the Cistercian abbey where it was written. At one point the pages were bound in a book, which is why it’s called a codex. It was given to my father by an old French village priest just after World War II. His church had been destroyed by the Nazis, and he himself was near death. It tells the story of the Templar journey to the Catskills in the year 1179.” He pulled a loose-leaf notebook from the same briefcase. “This is a translation of the document, along with my notes—the original is in Latin. You can read it at your leisure.” He leaned back, catching his breath as Thorne carefully examined the writings. “The parchment has been carbon-dated to the mid-1100s.”

  A few more seconds passed before Thorne looked up again, during which time January placed the stone artifacts back in the carrying case. “So what were these Templars doing here?”

  “What indeed?” January supposed that Thorne himself could make some educated guesses, but wanted to learn what January knew. “I have spent the better part of the last 40 years—since I turned 18 and my father first shared the Clairvaux Codex with me—trying to determine just that. But it was worth the effort. In fact, it was when I realized I had spent exactly 40 years that I finally solved the mystery. As you may know, the number 40 is of critical importance in the Bible—the Jews wandered the desert 40 years, it rained 40 days and 40 nights, Moses was on Mount Sinai 40 days and 40 nights, Jesus fasted 40 days, kings reigned for 40 years--”

  Thorne cut him off. “That’s because it takes the planet Venus 40 years to complete a full cycle. Venus was sacred to ancient peoples who worshiped the Sacred Feminine; the writers of the Bible incorporated these ancient beliefs to make it more palatable to the people.”

  “Exactly. One of the reasons the Jewish rabbis of the time were so willing to accept Jesus as a prophet was because he descended from Abraham by 40 generations on his mother Mary’s side. The community was waiting for a new king, a new leader, the next king in the Davidic line. It was time.”

  January sipped some water and caught his breath. “Once I focused on generations and life cycles and the number 40, the answer to the riddle became clear: Marie-Claire and the Templars came here to re-seed Jesus’ bloodline. Exactly 40 generations had passed since the birth of Jesus; the cycle was over. Marie-Claire was part of the Jesus bloodline, descended from Mary Magdalene in the south of France. It was time for her to refresh and refortify the holy bloodline here in America.” He would not insult Thorne’s intelligence by explaining how important bloodlines were to ancient Europeans, especially those of noble or royal birth. In royal families, the family tree looked more like a vine, circling back on itself as cousin married cousin to keep the bloodline pure and free from contamination.

  Thorne nodded. “The 40 slashes on the back of the stone.” He stared out the window, apparently deep in thought. “Even if your theory about refreshing the bloodline is correct, why come to North America?”

  “Because, as I said, Anna’s branch of the Desposyni, of Jesus’ family, ended up in North America in the first century. The Templars knew Anna’s group had migrated eastward into the Ohio River Valley and southern New York, probably from their Scandinavian members who learned of it from the Viking voyages—we saw this migration on the map stone. And the Templars also feared the Church might turn on the bloodline families, seeing them as a threat to Rome’s religious authority. It turns out they were correct to be afraid—the Church wiped out many of the French bloodline families, including Marie-Claire’s, in the Albigensian Crusades in the early 1200s. But a branch of the bloodline wo
uld be safe here in America, far from the reach of the Vatican.”

  Thorne’s eyes widened again—this explanation seemed to resonate with him, perhaps confirmed some of his own theories. “So Marie-Claire came all the way to New York with six Templar Knights just to get pregnant?”

  “No. She already had a young son by her husband Aragon, one of her Templar escorts.”

  “I thought the Templars were celibate.”

  January waved the question away. “Most were nobleman who joined the order later in life, after marrying and fathering children. As was the case with Aragon. And even then some were less celibate than others.” He gulped more water. “In any event, Aragon was a Spanish nobleman who actually descended directly from Mohammed—recall that the Moors ruled Spain during this time. Most Christians at the time loathed the Muslims. But the Templars had strong ties to the Islamic world and they believed that adding Mohammed’s bloodline to that of Jesus and Cleopatra would cement these alliances. Even at that early date the Templars feared they would have to flee Europe for North America.”

  “As they eventually did.”

  “Yes. It was your research that helped me put all these pieces together.”

  “So this son of Marie-Claire and Aragon would then marry into the Jesus family bloodline in America?”

  “Correct. Into Anna’s line. Which could itself trace its blood directly back to Jesus and King David, and also to Cleopatra. The line was as pure as any European royal family. Today this family is known as the Mandan Indians.”

  Thorne nodded. “The Mandan. The White Indians. Lewis and Clark met them while heading west. Thomas Jefferson was obsessed with them.”

  “Yes, by the time of Lewis and Clark the Mandan had been pushed back west again by the settlers.”