Marcus has always enjoyed the company of women and has a healthy appetite for the pleasures of the flesh. He was, to his father’s great dismay, a bit of a lad. Marcus would flirt with anything female, and, like his taste in associates, his taste in women is wide-ranging. He’s had relationships with many human and vampire women, including women of other races and religions, older women, younger women, titled women, and common prostitutes. Marcus turned some of them into vampires, though his family cracked down on this tendency to turn lovers into perpetual dependents. The day Marcus met Phoebe Taylor that all changed, and his wandering eye is now firmly set on her. Together they form a strong couple in a family of strong couples, and his desire to make Phoebe his lifelong mate as a vampire is as determined as her desire to become one.
Those characters marked thus
are acknowledged by historians.
Organizations
The Congregation
Prejudice has forced creatures to live in the shadows for a long time, and centuries ago the vampire Philippe de Clermont cast about for ways to combat human chauvinism and bigotry. Toward that end he joined the Christian Crusaders in their voyage to the Holy Land in an attempt to establish a separate creature kingdom there in the eleventh century. Sadly, the resulting conflicts in Western Europe and the eastern Mediterranean, as well as age-old clashes among vampires, witches, and daemons, served only to focus unwanted human attention on the otherworldly creatures. As a result, vampires, witches, and daemons came together in the twelfth century to establish the Congregation, a formal institution founded, at least in part, to ensure the safety of those three species of creatures in an increasingly human—and dangerous—world.
The Congregation persists as an institution to this day. It operated first in Jerusalem, then moved to Constantinople/Istanbul after the Crusaders withdrew from the city. In 1483 Mehmet II forced them to leave Constantinople, and the creatures then retreated to Venice, Italy, where they now occupy an island in the lagoon known as Isola della Stella (the Isle of Stars).
There are nine members of the Congregation: three daemons, three vampires, and three witches. By foundational agreement one of the vampire members is always a de Clermont, and he (or she) presides over the institution’s meetings. Stasia de Clermont, Freyja de Clermont, and Verin de Clermont have each occupied the de Clermont seat for brief periods, usually during times of war when the men in the family were on the battlefield. The customary term for de Clermonts is fifty years, though Philippe was known to take back-to-back terms. Members of the de Clermont family do sometimes give up their seat before their term is fulfilled; Baldwin de Clermont ceded his place to Philippe’s blood-sworn daughter, Diana Bishop, who occupies the de Clermont seat today. All other members of the Congregation are appointed or elected to occupy one of the nine seats by their fellow creatures, and terms and methods of selection vary according to each group’s custom. A seat on the Congregation is not necessarily a lifetime appointment, although some creatures, particularly vampires, may hold their position for hundreds of years. Others, especially witches and daemons, might serve only a few years, and their constituents can remove them if they fail to serve effectively. In addition to the de Clermonts named above, the roster of notable members of the Congregation has included vampires Gerbert d’Aurillac and Domenico Michele; witches Peter Knox, Sidonie von Borcke, and Satu Järvinen, as well as the Bright Born witch Janet Gowdie and Agatha Wilson, a daemon and the mother of Nathaniel Wilson.
A seat on the Congregation confers prestige and political standing upon already powerful creatures. While some Congregation members have behaved honorably and honestly, many others have used their office to shield their own family or have indulged in private and unsanctioned investigations and interventions. Just like human government bureaucracies, the Congregation has been both a blessing and a curse for its body politic.
One of the Congregation’s first acts was to establish a series of restrictions that they called the covenant. This pact, made between all daemons, witches, and vampires of the “past, present, and future,” bound them to abide by rules of conduct that the Congregation argued would keep creatures safe from human attention. Foremost among these rules was a prohibition against creatures mixing together. Many believed that whenever daemons, vampires, and witches gathered, their differences were more noticeable, making them impossible for humans to ignore. This meant that creatures were strongly discouraged from socializing, and the covenant absolutely forbade them to fall in love and intermarry.
In order to police these behaviors worldwide, the nine members of the Congregation relied heavily on assistance from the broader community of creatures, looking to them to inform on neighbors and friends. The Congregation demonstrated a willingness to use whatever means necessary—from official visits and threats to punishments including torture, imprisonment, and assassination—to uphold the covenant and keep creatures apart. The great irony, of course, is that in the name of preserving creatures from human fear, the Congregation has itself posed a danger to their kind.
The terms of the covenant meant that any intermingling between creatures was driven into the shadows. Those few who fell in love or engaged in sexual liaisons risked severe punishment at the hands of the Congregation. Despite this threat, however, several members have been known to have taken other creatures as lovers (such as Gerbert d’Aurillac and Diana Bishop) or were themselves the products of such forbidden unions (Janet Gowdie). There have undoubtedly been other instances throughout the world of attachments between creatures, but they have remained well hidden. Over time the covenant’s prohibition against social commingling was so strongly adopted by most creatures that deep animosities and prejudices sprang up between them. The divisions have become so ingrained that for centuries vampires and witches have avoided each other, and both groups scorn daemons.
In addition to banning social mixing between creatures, the covenant also banned creature participation in human politics or religion. This was an effort to ensure that there were no vampire kings who ruled in perpetuity or wizard popes who used the Vatican as a magical training ground (see GERBERT D’AURILLAC). While the first set of restrictions against social mingling was upheld by most, the second was more regularly honored in the breach. This is particularly true of vampires, who have learned that so long as they work behind the scenes as advisers and stay out of the public eye, they can arrange things pretty much as they like politically. Indeed, those human leaders who have known of the Congregation and the existence of other creatures have also shown a remarkable proclivity for using them for their own political ends.
There seems to have been another, deeply concealed reason for the covenant. Before the Congregation was formed, some creatures knew—and others suspected—that on rare occasions vampires, witches, and daemons could reproduce, creating children of mixed parentage. The idea of powerful and long-lived children whose abilities could vastly outstrip those of more ordinary creatures was particularly threatening to those who had profited from the status quo since the eleventh century. They didn’t want anything to upset the balance of power between creatures. The covenant provided a convenient pretext for the most power-hungry creatures—especially witches and vampires—to forbid intermarriage and encourage self-segregation. Consequently, popular efforts to defy or repeal the covenant have been met with open hostility from members through the years. The movement among creatures to combat the outdated system enforced on them gained strength, however, in the recent formation of the Conventicle. And when Diana finally shook the Congregation to its core with her revelations about the true nature of creatures’ origins, the covenant’s obsolete laws were finally repealed.
See also: LOCATIONS: Isola della Stella
My inspiration for the Congregation came from my desire to imagine extraordinary creatures into our modern world. I reviewed ancient and medieval ideas about the organization and creation of the universe and was struck by how many of them u
se organizing principles based on the numbers three, four, seven, and nine. Four species of creatures—daemon, human, vampire, and witch—were soon central to the novel. But I was still troubled by the problem of how humans could be surrounded by such beings and not know it. The Congregation was useful in resolving that issue, because it’s an organization dedicated to preserving and protecting daemons, vampires, and witches from the majority of the population—which is human. The fact that there are nine justices on the United States Supreme Court and nine members of the Congregation is not coincidental.
The Conventicle
The formation of the progressive Conventicle in 2009 posed one of the most significant challenges to the authority of the Congregation and the covenant since it was formed nearly a thousand years ago. The name is a nod to the human historical tradition of joining together with other malcontents and dissenters in associations called conventicles in order to protest against their governing authorities. Unsurprisingly perhaps, this Conventicle of rebellious creatures first came together in America among a group who strongly rejected the notion that self-segregation would keep creatures safe.
The composition of the Conventicle mirrored that of the Congregation—three witches, three daemons, and three vampires. Some of the original members were well known to other creatures, like Matthew de Clermont and even Diana Bishop. Others, including the vampires Marcus Whitmore and Miriam Shephard, witches Emily Mather and Sarah Bishop, and daemons Hamish Osborne, Sophie Norman, and Nathaniel Wilson, had led less public lives. The founding members met secretly for the first time in Madison, New York, and for security reasons later moved their base of operations to the de Clermont family home at Sept-Tours in the Auvergne, France. When Diana and Matthew were forced to seek refuge in sixteenth-century London, Marcus took control of the disparate group of creatures gathered there and came into his own as a leader. Even Baldwin de Clermont dropped in at times, playing a dangerous game by serving on the Congregation and feeding information to the Conventicle.
The Conventicle was formed in direct response to the Congregation’s increasingly aggressive and even violent attempts to protect the status quo and the covenant, including the torture and imprisonment of Diana Bishop by Congregation member Satu Järvinen. The Conventicle also sought to protect Ashmole 782 (known variously as the Book of Secrets and the Book of Life). The Conventicle had good reason to fear that its truths about creatures might be lost forever if it fell into the hands of those witches on the Congregation who were intent on using it for their own purposes, or was obtained by power-hungry vampires like Gerbert d’Aurillac. Perhaps most important, all the members of the Conventicle sought to overturn the covenant’s prohibitions against intermarriage and the mixing of creatures. Their shared conviction was that no creature should ever be prohibited from loving another, no matter their differences. As Diana said, “None of us choose whom we love.”
From its humble beginnings in a small farmhouse in upstate New York, the Conventicle has now opened offices in Manhattan, London, Amsterdam, Milan, Rio de Janeiro, and Tokyo, with further expansion planned. The Conventicle has gained the support of witches, vampires, and daemons throughout the world, as many seemed to have personal grievances with the Congregation or objected to the covenant’s restrictions. From its foundation, the Conventicle was at war with the Congregation. Fortunately for them, the Conventicle had the support and financial protection of the shadowy Knights of Lazarus, which helped transform them from mere upstarts into a worthy adversary. Because the Conventicle is still a young organization, and only recently emerged from the shadows, not a great deal is known about its internal workings. However, with the backing of the Knights of Lazarus it has won its first great victory, forcing the Congregation to reevaluate the covenant and repeal its outdated laws. Now they need to ensure that the centuries-old divisions between creatures are broken down in reality, too.
Knights of Lazarus
The Knights of Lazarus of Bethany is a secret chivalric order that was founded during the Crusades. Its origins in the world of All Souls lie in the failure of vampire Philippe de Clermont’s greatest ambition: to create a safe haven for creatures in the Holy Land. Matthew’s vampire son Benjamin helped kill this dream toward the end of the eleventh century by threatening to expose the existence of all creatures to the humans in Jerusalem. As a fallback plan, and around the same time the Congregation was formed to combat unwanted human attention, Philippe founded the Knights of Lazarus, an order of vampire knights. Its purpose now, as then, is to ensure the survival of vampires in a world dominated by humans and to protect those who cannot protect themselves. The name Lazarus was chosen because Lazarus made the journey from life to death and back again, just as vampires must do.
The Knights of Lazarus has the structure of a medieval Catholic military order, consisting of a grand master; a seneschal, the grand master’s second in command; a marshal, the chief military officer; and nine knights, one of whom is not required to fight and sometimes occupies the role of seneschal. Every member of the order swears an oath to defend his or her fellow knights to the death. There are strong similarities between the Knights of Lazarus and other crusading orders, such as the Knights Templar and the Order of the Knights of the Hospital of St. John of Jerusalem (the Hospitallers).
The Knights of Lazarus have a distinguished history in battle, though for the sake of secrecy members often fought under the banners of other Christian orders. Most notably, in 1291, the knights fought in the Siege of Acre. Acre, a city on the eastern coast of the Mediterranean, had been captured from the Muslims by forces of the Third Crusade in 1191. For a century Acre remained the last great Crusader fortress in the Holy Land, but in 1291 Muslim forces attacked the city and prevailed. The crusading movement continued for several more centuries, but the capture of Acre marked the end of further Crusades to the Levant region (in the eastern Mediterranean).
Matthew de Clermont fought in the Siege of Acre as Marshal of the Knights Hospitallers, one of the most prominent Roman Catholic military orders (later known as the Knights of Malta). He distinguished himself by tending to the wounded grand master of the Knights Templar, Guillaume de Beaujeu, until Guillaume died. Matthew then regrouped with several Hospitaller knights and was reported to have been killed in their last desperate stand (though All Souls trilogy readers know he lived to fight another day).
The de Clermonts have always been the heart and soul of the Knights of Lazarus. Philippe de Clermont was its first grand master, and Sept-Tours actually belongs to the Knights of Lazarus, though few would want to dispute Ysabeau’s right to live in it. Matthew de Clermont was given command of the order upon his father’s death in 1944. To ensure the stability of the order while he traveled back into the past, however, Matthew had to relinquish his position. On November 1, 2009, Matthew’s vampire son Marcus was appointed grand master.
Like other medieval chivalric orders, the Knights of Lazarus has several seals, which can be used to close routine correspondence or to command armies. The largest seal shows a building with Lazarus in the entry, bearing the words “militie Lazari a Bethania”—the Knights of Lazarus of Bethany—around the edge. A smaller one, Matthew’s private seal, shows the same building with Lazarus stepping out of a coffin, surrounded by a snake with its tail in its mouth—the ouroboros, the de Clermont family standard. On the reverse a cross divides the seal into four quarters. The upper-right quadrant shows a crescent moon, its horns curved upward like a bowl and a six-pointed star nestled within (the witch Satu branded Diana with this mark). A fleur-de-lis, the traditional symbol of France, sits in the lower left. The curved edge bears the letters MDCl, for “Matthew de Clermont,” along with the words “secretum Lazari”—the secret of Lazarus. A third seal is nearly identical to Matthew’s except that the upper-right quadrant holds only the crescent moon and Philippus inscribed around the border.
Over the centuries the Knights of Lazarus have wielded tremendous power. As Diana
discovered from the account books in Matthew’s study, in the sixteenth century alone they provided Mary Tudor’s dowry when she married Philip of Spain, bribed the French to attend the Catholic Church’s Council of Trent, bankrolled the return of Mary Stuart (Queen of Scots) to the Scottish throne, bought cannon for the Battle of Lepanto against the Ottoman Empire, and paid off a large portion of Elizabeth I’s crushing debts.
The Congregation formally dissolved the Knights of Lazarus in the fourteenth century, but this had little influence on their power. Coincidentally, the Knights Templar were also dissolved at that time. Their last grand master, Jacques de Molay, turned over everything he owned to the Knights of Lazarus before being burned at the stake in 1314.
If you ever need to get in touch with the Knights of Lazarus, just dial 917. Philippe chose this number in the early days of the telephone because September 17 is the birthday of his wife, Ysabeau.
See also: DECORATIVE ARTS: Signet ring
I didn’t create the Order of Lazarus; they did exist. We just know very little about them. There’s been much controversy because there is a new order claiming links back to the knights, but they are not (according to the evidence I’ve seen) directly descended from the medieval group. As the least-understood, least-familiar medieval Crusading order, the Knights of Lazarus were irresistible to me.
The World of All Souls Page 21
