The Whispering Swarm (63 page)

The old man nodded his head. ‘As have others, I believe. Think you Oliver will become our king?'

‘It is one of the things I fear,' Prince Rupert replied, ‘but if God wills it then let it be so. Unlike other usurpers Oliver is reluctant to take the throne. Or says he is. He has no right of inheritance, of course. He would rather a kind of Episcopal system of elected ministers. He denies any other ambition pretty fiercely, I gather. But in like vein Julius Caesar refused the laurel leaves of Rome only to wear them when the security of the realm was at stake. Sometimes we must accept that our Creator's will is stronger than a nation's.'

Everyone there agreed. Our conference was to discuss ongoing plans. I had now promised Duval I would help them, but I was also hatching a scheme of my own.

*   *   *

Master Elias, as Chief Rabbi of England, was to attend the Amsterdam conference which would be held in secret. He had waited decades for this. ‘Once the Jews are admitted back into England, my great vow to remain in London until that time will be fulfilled. I shall no longer be needed here.' Apparently a number of
marranos
and others had resettled in England for some years; they were ostensibly Christians but practised in secret. Almost all were regular visitors to the abbey. The few remaining English Jews and their descendants, officially expelled from England by Edward I in 1290, had lived and attended synagogue here in secret for some three and a half centuries!

Now I was beginning to understand some of the things mystifying me at the Sanctuary! A rabbi by the name of Judah ben Har, scarcely older than me, very young and enthusiastic, told me how the time had come for Jews to petition Oliver Cromwell for the right to return openly, to practise their religion unhindered and continue their traditional trades, arts and services. Like many Puritans, Cromwell was known to favour the idea of admitting Jews and not merely for practical reasons. The Jews, as usurers and traders, brought greater flexibility to any economy. But more profoundly, the Protector identified with certain Old Testament teachings. They brought a religious scholarship and a rigorous intellectual tradition the country dearly needed after the prolonged and ruinous civil war. This idea sounded good to me. I asked Chief Rabbi Elias how long he had held his office. He was amused, knowing he would surprise me.

‘About three hundred and fifty years,' he said. ‘The former Chief Rabbi of London made me his successor. I became Chief Rabbi of England until such time as the edict should be revoked. As soon it shall be.'

In spite of everything else that had taken place, I still could not believe Master Elias was some four hundred years old! I looked from face to face. Not a man there, Christian or Jew, showed any surprise or incredulity. Why on earth did they come openly to London, albeit Alsacia? What went on here?

I responded a little weakly. Some of the others laughed, enjoying my expression.

Just as I was coming to a grudging belief in the supernatural, every day brought some new test of my credulity! Now I was supposed to accept that the ancient Chief Rabbi at our table was only a bit younger than Methuselah! There was no question the rabbi was very old indeed; no question that he had an extraordinary charisma. He spoke almost in a whisper, yet his voice was thrilling. His accent was soft, even gentle; controlled and precise, as if he conserved his strength.

‘You must remember, young sir, that I was from a very long-lived line even before I came to the Sanctuary.'

Did he mean that the Sanctuary had extended his life? I knew Alsacia somehow preserved life because I had seen that with my own eyes. Disturbingly, the dead might even be resurrected. But could the place actually prolong life? Hadn't Methuselah, Enoch, Noah and all those others in Genesis lived almost a thousand years? Abraham was ancient when he begat Isaac. Maybe there was something in the diet? I seemed to be getting even deeper into the swamp of gullibility, a growing belief in the supernatural. I was in a kind of fugue, I suppose, carried along by events possibly created by my own imagination. Because of my familiarity with drugs, my usual scepticism kept kicking in. In Notting Hill in the 1960s you had to develop a certain habit of mind or go crazy like one of those poor acid-burned freaks wandering up and down Portobello Road, their unblinking eyes glaring into some hellish private fantasy. I knew people whose brains had been wiped and replaced by a bunch of pretty pictures and the crazier aspects of the world's great religions.

I had to admit this old man was pretty convincing. That pale, yellow skin stretched over his bones was the thinnest ever seen, but it wasn't proof he was as old as he said he was. Were
all
these people perhaps delusional? Including me? I really didn't want to believe what my logic forced me to believe.

I asked the Chief Rabbi why he had chosen to stay in anti-Semitic London. He might have been better off going somewhere like Prague where there were active synagogues to support him. He didn't need to live in secrecy. I think he found my question a bit na
ï
ve. I had to bend forward a little to hear his response which was almost a whisper.

‘My duty was here. I was not the only Jew to disobey the king. Our duty was to remain here until called home. In truth there are fewer now than there used to be. But to them I have passed on my knowledge of the Torah. After the great concordance, I will discover the next stage of my journey. God can always use another rabbi somewhere.' And he smiled the sweetest smile I had ever seen.

I continued to be curious. ‘Sir, have you always lived in London?'

‘I was born in York but my parents moved soon to Leeds and from there to London. I went once to Lisbon. It was a common experience for Jews in my day to be like our nomad ancestors. We were forever pulling up stakes and moving on. But we made many friends among the English scholars.' He smiled toothlessly at me through his thin white beard. ‘Fewer in the Lords or Commons. The English were not the first to persecute Jews. I gather your mother's family is Jewish. But you are not a Jew by religion?'

‘I have no religion. No belief.'

He laughed. ‘You have what my friends call the “second sight”? A Sufi? You are an adept. A magi. You can see the roads?'

‘Does that involve belief in God?'

‘I think you know that answer. If you believe in the supernatural you'd be wise to believe in God, but that's my opinion. I hope we can continue this conversation. It has been some time since I spoke with someone who found their faith.'

From respect, I didn't tell him I hadn't exactly lost my faith first. Logic brought me to the assumption God was likely to exist. I wasn't yet thirty, but speaking to a man allegedly born in the Middle Ages, who had lived through the Renaissance. Who even now was living in a time immediately before Newton! Newton, who practised alchemy, invented modern physics and had a profound belief in God. So a belief in materialism and science need not be incompatible with faith!

From across the table Friar Aylwyn asked me respectfully, ‘Did you not believe in our common God, Master Moorcock? Were you an atheist?'

‘I was until recently, Brother Aylwyn. Now I think you could fairly call me a fellow traveller…'

Master Elias smiled at this. ‘Brother Aylwyn, do you think it right that we query our friend's beliefs when he supports ours with practical help?'

A little bit ashamed, Aylwyn murmured an apology. ‘I have never known a man who did not believe,' he said.

‘Perhaps you'd answer a couple of questions I have,' I said.

‘Of course,' said Father Grammaticus from the head of the table.

‘I don't understand how Christian monks and Jewish rabbis can work together so closely. And weren't there Moslems in the congregation earlier?'

This was an easy one for the abbot. ‘We work together because we work for the Old Faith, which some call the Faith Undivided. We have no divisions concerning belief, but place value on our common understanding of God so that we may better do His will. We do not worship in the old, exclusive way. Only those uncertain of their beliefs insist on a single ritual. You have attended our services, Master Michael, and know we never refer to a specific prophet or embrace a single religion. It helped us that to the outside world we seemed to be following conventional Christianity. There were times, like now, when everything for which we work might have been utterly destroyed. Our fellow believers follow Islam, for instance, and others study the Hindu sutras or Buddhism, Shinto and other great religions of the world. We come together in secret to study all beliefs and take the best they offer. Once a faith becomes an organised religion it becomes a political system. We are pledged not to one religion, but to the spiritual core of all those religions, which agree on the profoundest levels.'

I have to admit I agreed strongly that organised religion was no more than party politics. The spiritual aspect was always the first to be abandoned. ‘But why do you leave here now?'

‘It is time I spoke in person to a number of colleagues. I have things to discuss concerning our ultimate goals. The matter of High India, for instance, where we shall travel when the great day comes. Then there are the domestic issues. Some prepare to petition the Lord Protector, Oliver Cromwell, for Jews to be allowed to live and trade openly in England. We have every hope of success. In High India, the conference will determine many other issues.'

Prince Rupert interjected. ‘Sadly, however, certain enemies learned of our intention. They are coarse, gullible people from all walks of life who believe we conspire with foreign kings to steal their power and steal their wealth. Cromwell's advisors want to turn him against the Jews.'

‘When we learned the king's ship went to Holland,' added the abbot, ‘we begged Prince Rupert to take Master Elias.'

‘I had envisioned other circumstances than these.' The prince spoke quietly. ‘But it is my privilege, sir. The journey is dangerous for all. Our musketeers offer you protection for the journey. They return to “The Winters”, as their own particular sanctuary in Paris is called. Our ship already waits in the Thames below the Tower. A Dutch brig, an English skipper and a mixed crew. She has an English name, I'm told. We must hope the ice is still thin once London Bridge is passed. The brig'll send a longboat for us. All must be done swiftly in darkness. She'll be stopped if our enemies have the chance.'

‘But you believe Cromwell is likely to be sympathetic to your cause,' I said.

‘Cromwell, yes. As far as he understands it. And the majority of Puritans, too. But there are others, Catholics or political Anglicans like Colonel Clitch and his creature Love. They would stop us at every turn. They have already poisoned the minds of many Parliamentarians against us…'

‘I suppose you are selling your Treasure to help finance your other ventures?'

At this everyone began to laugh and I was baffled. Seeing my expression, Father Grammaticus apologised. ‘I had forgotten not everyone knows the nature of the Treasure we have guarded here for some three hundred and fifty years.'

‘Well guarded, too, in spite of many rumours down the centuries,' added Prince Rupert.

‘It's very valuable, no doubt.'

‘No doubt.' Father Grammaticus smiled. ‘Though we'd judge your manners poor if you continued to use the term “it”. I think it time I introduced our Treasure.' The abbot rose from his seat and bowed to the ancient Jew. ‘Rabbi Elias here is our valued Treasure. We protect and defend him with every means available to us. We have no Treasure as valuable as Rabbi Elias!'

 

52

SOLDIERS AT THE GATES

‘Now we are pledged to take this Treasure to Amsterdam,' said Prince Rupert. ‘There I shall leave him when I travel to Paris to give my sad news to the queen and her family.'

‘But why take me with you?' I asked.

‘You are no longer safe in London. Both Nixer and Marvell know you. Duval and his men will return here to carry on the fight. And there is a big fight coming, believe me.'

I thought of the children. I simply couldn't go. I might never return. These assumptions had to be nipped in the bud.

Already Father Grammaticus was continuing. ‘You possess the so-called witch sight. You are one capable of seeing all there is to see in our crowded universe. It's in your blood, Michael.'

‘Like an inherited disease?'

I had no particular wish to stay in London, since Helena had made it clear I had no home with her. I decided to keep my own counsel. I had told few about my family. If the situation changed, I would behave according to my instinct.

The conversation became a bit cryptic after that.

‘You saw the prince's orrery,' I heard Friar Erasmus say. ‘No dark matter or light can exist in the Grey Fees. That fog! I tell you it is godless Limbo, pure and simple. Without time, without physicality, without, we believe, any higher being of any kind.'

‘Without hope, by the sound of it,' I said.

‘We don't think so. Anything sent to Limbo or even coming into existence there returns as long as it obeys certain conditions.'

‘No light can enter. No anti-light or dark aether can enter. It is only possible to leave!' said an older rabbi I had been told was Meinheer Uriah of Bruges.

They looked to the prince and the abbot for confirmation but all Prince Rupert would do was sit back in his chair and quote a piece of verse:

‘All th'unruly hordes of heaven

Came in concourse to salvation

All the whispering swarm created

Call to thee in unison…'

I had never heard the verse before, but at the mention of a whispering swarm I grew alert. This was the first time I'd heard the phrase. Of course I applied it at once to my own experience and butted in somewhat rudely.