The Celtic Conspiracy (6 page)

“As always, I’m too early.”

He’d swung his briefcase onto the lectern and sat down in the first row of chairs when suddenly a voice behind him broke the silence of the hall.

“Ronald MacClary? Is it really you, or just a shadow of your forefathers?”

Ronald turned around, casually crossing his legs. “Jennifer Wilson, what in the world...?”

“I realize you didn’t send me an invitation, but do you really believe your avocational ambitions to rid the people of their faith are a secret in Washington?”

Ronald smiled slightly. “Now, Jennifer, we’ve already agreed that I’m not trying to rid the people of their faith.”

“Oh yes, my mistake.”

Jennifer walked swiftly to Ronald, and he stood to embrace her. Jennifer Wilson was beautiful, with long, dark hair, a striking and sensual expression, and a
charismatic appearance that attracted men while simultaneously inspiring fear in them. Ronald considered her one of the best lawyers he had ever trained, and their relationship went far beyond the typical range of a teacher-student relationship.

“Jennifer, I’m surprised. If I’d had the slightest idea you were interested in this, believe me, then—”

“I know. I’ve signaled my misgivings about your hobby far too often. Apology accepted.” She smiled mischievously. “But you didn’t even invite me to the Capitol for the reception for the new judge.
That
I’m going to hold against you.”

“You know that I’m trying to avoid any overlaps between our private life and official duties.”

Jennifer let her arms fall from Ronald’s shoulders and sat down. She looked around the hall and took a deep breath. “OK, if I’m going to be honest, I’m much more interested in a lavish dinner after your lecture. A dinner that has been due you since my exams. I’d like to talk a few things over with you that have been on my mind.”

Ronald knew this expression well. Jennifer only wore it when she had something very important on her mind. “How could I say no to that? I can’t promise there won’t be a few others joining us, though, at least at the beginning.”

Ronald reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a note that he offered to Jennifer, grinning. “This is an event the law school is putting on that’s taking place at the same time as my lecture. It’s about the history of
international law and it ends at ten, just before my lecture is over.”

“That’s, of course, pure coincidence.”

“Yes. Even if you don’t believe me, it is.”

“Fine,” she said, turning to leave. “I’ll pick you up on time—and don’t even think about coming up with an excuse to get out of it.”

“Why would I disappoint my best student?”

Jennifer kept walking toward the door as she answered. “You’ve done it often enough already, Ronald. Women don’t like that, you know.”

He could just make out the edge of her coat as it whirled like a cloud through the doorway. He enjoyed her presence. Before Ronald had been called to Washington, he had been working in California, responsible for the training of young lawyers, among other things. That’s where he had met Jennifer. She was possessed by ambition, but what impressed him even more was the integrity with which she pursued her path. Over the years, a deep friendship had developed.

Ronald heard footsteps and turned around. His assistant and some students were coming into the hall.

“Professor MacClary, you’re already here.”

“Yes, I slipped up about the hour, but honestly, it was a pleasure to have this room to myself, to experience it after such a long time. Good evening, Ms. Coren. Do you have all the handouts for the audience?”

“Of course. Can I do anything else for you?”

“Could you greet attendees at the door to the building and show them in? It’s quite a long way.”

“Of course. I’d be glad to. I’ll be there about seven thirty. Or should I arrive a little earlier?”

“No, that should be fine. I’m not at all sure people will be that punctual.”

Ronald wasn’t certain how many people would be accepting his invitation. Many would have simply lacked interest. Others would be staunchly opposed to his ideas, especially when one considered where the lecture was taking place. On the other hand, the opposition to Christian expansion was more evident in Dublin than anywhere else in the world. In Ireland and England, the pagan cultures had not only survived, but had also left a lasting imprint on the traditions of the Catholic Church, though it required a great deal of imagination to recognize the bastardized remains.

A crowd did arrive, though. Ronald recognized several important people in the audience. It made him proud that there was enough of an interest, fueled by recent events, perhaps not surprisingly at the center of the conflict between science and religion. It seemed there was a willingness to talk about philosophical as well as factual controversy. Now he needed to successfully awaken at least a few sparks of enthusiasm for one of the most important questions of their time.

* * *

Thomas and Deborah met Shane in front of the lecture hall, as promised. The Thomas Ryan facing him now was freshly shaven, rested, and alert—in short, completely different from the person Shane had met the previous night.

“Welcome, Adam. I hope I didn’t promise you too much yesterday,” Thomas said after shaking Shane’s hand in greeting. “By the way, there’s something I’ve been wondering about since last night. What’s someone like you doing living in the Alps?”

Shane had heard this question before. “About ten years ago, I gave up my job as a blacksmith. Since then I’ve been working as a healer and promoting organic farming.”

“What made you decide to do that?”

“Pure desperation, actually. My wife, or rather, my ex-wife, got cancer just after the birth of our son. The doctors gave her only a few weeks to live. One day I had this feeling I might be able to help her with something very simple.”

“And that was...?”

“My physical energy. I gave her unconditional love, and I found a recipe in one of my grandmother’s books that contained greater celandine, also known as tetterwort, a powerful remedy against cancer. That’s probably what saved her life in the end. Since then, I’ve just been following my heart.”

Thomas grinned and put his arm around Shane, which Shane accepted with a little hesitation. “Now I know why
I trusted you the instant I met you. You see, Adam, I also have the gift of healing, and many of the people who have been here in recent days have it as well. But you’re still lacking consciousness—at least, let’s say, as seen from a modern perspective. We have so much more to discuss. Come on, you miracle healer, it’s time to go in.”

* * *

Ronald moved to the lectern, accompanied by scattered applause.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I won’t be telling you anything new when I talk to you about a passage from the criminal history of the Catholic Church. And I’ll hardly be telling you anything new when I talk to you about the enormous cultural theft perpetrated by this Church, in collaboration with the political elite, since the time of its founding. However, we should open ourselves to new interpretations and look more closely at the impact this has had and continues to have on our culture.

“The first thing I’d like to do tonight is present an incomplete chronicle that proves the fervor with which the knowledge and culture of the indigenous peoples of Europe was crushed out of existence. In the second part of my lecture, I will talk about the impact this has had, and continues to have, on our culture, a culture imprinted by Christianity. This impact is independent from whatever loss in significance this ‘belief’ is experiencing now, mostly due to recent events.

“Finally, I will ask a question whose answer I already know. That question is: why did the pagans and in particular the Celts disappear from history? The answer is that they couldn’t resist this attack, not only because they were militarily inferior, but also because they were mentally, intellectually, and spiritually helpless in the face of such a senseless culture with complete disdain for nature. It simply went against the all-embracing principle of nature and its laws to respond in kind to Rome’s actions, which were supported by the Christians. However, the spiritual leaders of the pagans were by no means simply victims, as I will demonstrate. Instead, they reached an exceptional decision.

“Let’s start first with the chronicle of events and raise the question of why every last trace of the old masters—not only the Celts, but also the Picts, the Saxons, the Germanic tribes, the Normans, and last but not least, the Vikings—has essentially disappeared.

“In the year 330, Emperor Constantine commanded the closure and destruction of all pagan temples, including the Serapeion in Alexandria and the sun-god temple in Heliopolis. He had the sacrificial altar in Mambre laid to waste and the Aphrodite temple of Golgatha destroyed. In 336, the Trier Christians destroyed the great temple complex in Altbachtal. Fifty chapels devoted to the Nordic gods and Mithraic worship were leveled to the ground. In 346, Emperor Constantine ordered the immediate closure of pagan temples in the cities. In 347, the Church father Julius Firmicus Maternus wrote the antipagan inflamma
tory pamphlet
On the Error of Pagan Religions
and pressured Emperors Constantine and Constans into the extermination of the mystery cults, the cults of Isis and Osiris, Serapis and Attis, the sun cult and the Mithraic cult...”

* * *

While Ronald continued reading the list to the astonished and somewhat indignant audience, a single man left the hall, unnoticed and unrecognized. As stealthily as possible, Victor Salvoni made his way to the rectorate.

* * *

“We end our history in 1937, when, at the instigation of the Vatican, the prehistoric library of Lussac-les-Châteaux is seized. All of this, ladies and gentlemen, has an origin, a meaning, and a fatal impact.

“The date 314 is more than a year. As most of you know, from this year forward, Christianity rose from insignificance to become the state religion under Emperor Constantine, with the help of the Council of Nicaea, and later under Kaiser Theodosius. With this rise came an unbelievable slaughter in the name of purification, which began with the complete alteration and adulteration of the history of Jesus Christ. During Constantine’s rule in Gaul, where Christianity did not yet play a role, the religion and culture of the Celts were unimportant to him, but that would soon change, costing the lives of
millions of Celts. It wasn’t Julius Caesar who conquered the Celtic culture; Caesar had great respect for the Celts. No, the decisive strike against them was made by Constantine, the man of the hour. The Merovingians, Carolingians, Ottonians, the Holy Roman Empire, and lastly, our entire Western civilization, have all been shaped by Constantine. Seventeen hundred years of history carry his signature; he is the founder of the Western world. However, there is another very different question that’s even more crucial...”

* * *

Up on the screen behind MacClary, the audience could still see the list of destruction by the Christian emperor and bishops when suddenly the lights went out. The door opened, and two employees of the college came in with flashlights.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have a power outage in this entire section of the city. I’m sorry, but I must ask you to follow me and clear the hall.”

While the first people started to leave with murmurs of protest, Ronald looked through the magnificent window of the hall to the other side of the street. “Hey,” he called to the university employees, “does this section of the city happen to end over there?”

A short, skinny man with thin, graying hair came over to him and shone his flashlight in Ronald’s face.

“Put down that light,” Ronald snapped at him. “What’s the meaning of this?”

“The rector can explain that to you,” the man said briskly. “He’s waiting for you in his office.”

Fuming, Ronald packed up his things and prepared to go find the rector. As he began to leave, Thomas Ryan, standing in the last row with two other men, spoke up.

“Professor, I would be honored if, despite all the excitement, we could accompany you home after this to join you in a glass of wine.”

“Thomas! Um, yes, of course, why not. I find myself with some extra time all of a sudden. You’ll have to wait a bit, though. I have to settle something with the rector of this honorable institution.”

Standing in front of the beautifully embellished fountain at King’s Gate, Shane waited for MacClary with Thomas and Deborah. “Can one of you please explain what that was all about?” he said with a combination of amusement and irritation. “Nothing MacClary said today is news to anyone who knows anything about this field. What was the point of the interruption?”

“I think the point of the interruption,” said Thomas, “was that the lecture was about to become interesting.”

“You Irish confuse me. Who is this MacClary, anyhow?”

“He’s a high-ranking judge in the United States.”

Shane grinned, the story becoming even murkier for him. “And in his free time he likes to take on the Church?”

Thomas frowned. “It’s a little more complicated than that. Ronald MacClary was born in the US, but he belongs to one of Ireland’s oldest families and he also has Celtic roots. No one knows more about this field than he does.
More to the point, no one has as much evidence that the Church would love to get their hands on.”