Tag Archives: Pope Joan

Book 3 Golgotha Revisited

3.26 The Price is Your Soul

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Book III: Chapter 25
December 20

The moment lingered…

Someone or something was coming through the gate towards us.

Destiny?

Death?

Only God knew what it might be.

At last, forging through the gate came Pope Benedict, followed a moment later by Bill Bates in his Dr. Ma’bus regalia.

“Ah, I thought we would find you here,” Bates called out jovially, as he shuffled ahead to take the lead. Meanwhile a pair of servants rushed forward to set down two more chairs around our group, others set up a cabana to temper the afternoon’s heat, whilst still others emerged with an array of tempting delicacies to offer as refreshments. While all the servants were masked and gloved, neither the pope nor the technocrat wore virus protection since both knew Covid posed no real threat to them.

As our captors took their seats, Bates was all smiles, “Well, my friends, I’m sure you’re aware that tomorrow is your day of doom. Have you given any further consideration to the generous offer I made you?”

“Fool!” I lashed out at the would-be dictator. “Do you really think any of us would betray our Savior to follow a false god such as you? Hell, even if we contemplated such a mistake, everyone knows you wouldn’t honor your word.”

Although Benedict was beet red with embarrassment, Bates took it all in stride. He stared humorously at me for a few moments, before replying, “John, oh John, you were his beloved once, right?”

“I am his beloved still and—“

“Please.” Bates interrupted, holding up a hand, knowing I was not sure if I really believed my own words. “Save yourself the embarrassment. Everybody here knows the truth – the one you put your faith in has abandoned you. News flash, John, he’s NOT coming back. By crikey, man, I would think after two thousand years you would finally get it!”

“Whether it be two thousand or two hundred thousand,” Alan spoke up, “any amount of time is like a mere drop in the bucket to our God.”

“Ah, perhaps so,” Bates turned his attention now to Alan. “However, such is not the case for you three, eh? After all, while your lord may be able to ride out Time however he chooses, none of you can say the same. Each of you has had to endure every excruciating second of your miserable, do-nothing lives upon this forsaken world. You can’t hide it from me; it’s written all over your faces – you KNOW that in spite of all the time you’ve been given, in the end, you’ve failed in your mission. Two thousand years down the drain. All the pain, all the misfortune, and now all for naught. I can see how much that bothers you… and rightly so. You failed your master! What good are you to him now?”

“We will always have a place with our Lord.” Miriam replied, hands in her lap, eyes looking down.

“Ooohhh. And you say that with such confidence.” Bates scoffed. “Get real, sister. Nobody is buying your false hope and you shouldn’t be selling it. Look, the fact of the matter is that you really did have a chance to defeat me, but you failed. It’s that’s simple. I knew you couldn’t do it.”

“And why is that?” Miriam foolishly debated.

“First off, you made poor decisions. I mean, think about it – you were given a blueprint for success on how to overcome me and yet you couldn’t follow a simple set of directions! Instead you tried to do things your own way. Ah, news flash – that’s kind of stupid. Secondly, we all know that you three have never really been able to work together as a team. And worse still, you kept secrets from each other. How’s that for a start?” And here he paused to let each of us wallow in our shame, before adding, “Whatever you MAY have had with your god, it’s gone now. His time has passed. It’s MY time now.”

“You are a fool, Ma’bus.” I tried using my anger to resist him.

“Am I?” Bates grinned at me. “If that’s so, then what does that make you? After all, you’re all here. I have your Nails. I have your sacred scrolls. In fact, you’ve basically done everything I orchestrated.” And seeing the look of confusion on our faces, he happily explained. “Don’t you see? I’ve been pulling the strings all along. Surely, John, you know that the assailants who harassed you for lo these many years were all sent by me, right? And, Lazarus, we’ve already discussed how Mystery was sent to beguile you – with much success I might add. And Mary, oh Mary, where do you think all your premonitions came from? Certainly not from Above. No indeed, I sent them to you. Although I rather love what you did with them – 1492 is coming for you? This is the way you tried to disguise your warning? By making a clever code with a reference to Columbus? Well, you might have added your own touch, but the information was still from me. It’s all rather comical, don’t you think?”

“I don’t believe you.” Miriam stamped her foot in protest.

“No matter. I can go on. Although I didn’t create the prophets, I can attest that they were sent back because of me – so in a way I am responsible for them too. And of course, there can be no disputing that I was the one who had them killed – after all, the world still views me as a savior for that, right?” Then, turning back to Miriam, he asked, “My darling, who do you think pulled you out of Acedia?”

Acedia

Caught off guard at this unexpected memory, Miriam blanched, unable to respond.

“Ah, don’t trouble yourself.” Bates cajoled. “I will let you in on a little secret – I rescued you and Lazarus. After all, I brought him into that world, so only I could really let him out. I just wanted you to come here so that you could take Lazarus back to John to be cured – that allowed us to further things along a bit. Are you starting to get the picture? Ah, good. I can see you are. OK, let’s see, so where does that take us – ah yes, Mary and Lazarus go to Rome, fail to show Benedict any courtesy by advising him you’ve arrived, and instead you secretly dig in the Vatican’s most sacred vault – and for what? A worthless letter to a popess who never should have been? Why did you work so hard to protect that? It told me nothing! So, score one for your side, I let Marrollo reveal himself in order to capture your treasure.  But no matter, for my plans proceeded regardless. You followed that old coot Marrollo like puppies – right into my hands.” His voice dripping with mirth, The Beast turned back to me, “And, naturally, John, you felt the shame that was to be expected for deserting your friends. I knew Gabriel Big-Mouth would warn you not to, but that you couldn’t resist coming to save your friends, could you? I figured you’d use one of your inane disguises, but The Baron? Again? Come on, John, you could do better than that. You’re making the game too easy for me – you’re taking the fun out of it.”

“You expect me to believe that you are omnipotent now?” I replied.

“Would you like me to go back further in time?” Bates slithered. “Shall we discuss… Tower Bay? Hmmm?”

The devastation that was Tower Bay

“You’ve made your point!” I snarled. “Wha—“

“You know you can never truly win!” Miriam yelled out, pointing at The Beast. “Regardless of what happens on this world, in the end, you are doomed to failure.”

“Oh, Mary, you speak of things so far over your head it’s comical.” Bates clearly enjoyed the banter. “You really don’t get it, do you? So I’ve told you about a few strings that I pulled concerning you three and this petty little world. But, can’t you see that the War is to be won with each individual battle? Of course, my father and I are not fool enough to believe that we will control all of Creation at once – in fact, we may never accomplish that feat. And yet, it doesn’t matter – not to me, and certainly not to you.” 

Here Bates’ smile twisted into such a fiendish grin that even Benedict was a bit taken aback.

And still The Beast crowed, “Here is the essence of it all… this world is all of YOUR existence, it’s all you know. It’s all you are. Yet once I take ownership everything in it becomes MINE. Mine to possess for all time – that includes you… and your eternal souls. “

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27 – The Temptation
Book III Table of Contents
Book 2 Rise of the Antichrist

2.35 The Sacra Crypta

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Book II: Chapter 35
July 15

The Sight continued for me as I saw that the small room that Alan and Miriam had emerged into.

By the look on Alan’s unmasked face I could tell that it wasn’t exactly what he had expected to find. (And I had to agree with him).

“It looks like an olde world safe deposit box room.” Alan was confused. “This is the sacred crypt of La Papessa?

“Well, your description is not far from the truth.” Miriam replied still wearing that damned Nano Mask.

The walls of the room were filled with a multitude of small openings, each covered with a now-corroded iron door – these were the safe deposit boxes Alan had referred to — and nearly every inch seemed to have such a box built in.

“Hmm. Although this was a nice touch,” Alan joked, “it’s well known that during medieval times locksmithing technology was not all that secure. I can’t imagine this would do much to keep out a determined thief.”

“Take a closer look.” Miriam flashed the light over a block of the boxes. “As you can see, each door has multiple locking systems – to include a spring loaded bolt, interlocking wards on the case, and a padlock. Also notice that each door has no less than seven key-holes – this is significant, because for each box only one keyhole provides access to the interior – choose any of the incorrect key holes, and the final security measure is triggered.”

“What’s that?”

“A small capsule is stored within each of the incorrect keyholes. If their wards are moved, the capsule will be punctured – causing trace amounts of sulfur, naphtha, and quicklime to be released inside the box.”

“Wait,” Alan interrupted. “That combination of chemicals is known as Greek Fire and it’s highly combustible!  I recall John telling me how he helped the Byzantines perfect its use in the 7th century to help defend Constantinople from attacking Arabs.”

Alan’s little history lesson is true – WE smoked those Arab attackers!

Pondering further, Alan added, “Miriam, do you realize that if a liquid fire like that was released into such a small space it would burn indefinitely, becoming so pressurized, that if and when the doorway ever was opened, the Greek Fire would explode outwards, scorching the intruder!”

(Wow, I’m pretty impressed).

“The consequence of an errant deed.” Miriam confirmed, unmoved.

“But what about the treasures inside? They would be burned up too.”

“Only one box actually has anything inside — the one containing my letter from La Papessa.” And here she moved over towards the left hand wall and placed her hand on the door to one of the boxes. “As you can see, this door is still intact, thus my letter is safe.”

“But, what if an intruder had pried at the locks on your box and failed?” Alan was still incredulous at the security system that Miriam and Pope Joan had devised. “Your letter would be gone.”

“That would have been just as well. After all, I know what it says. Remember, we are here to ensure that no one else does.” And before Alan could remark again, she continued. “Time is running short. The Sacra Crypta we stand in now is located exactly under where the old altar of Saint Stephen’s used to be. It is now time for us to retrieve that which La Papessa locked inside.” And she reached into her blouse and pulled out a chain, revealing a small key – one that she then used to unlock the padlock.

<Click!> the device opened.

Miriam then proceeded to turn the dials necessary to unlock the various tumblers that released multiple bolts in turn. Finally she used the same key that opened the padlock and plunged it into one of the seven keyholes – the third from the left. Miriam turned the key a full rotation, only to cause the tumblers to fall in line with a <HIIIiiiisssss…>

At the sound, Alan pulled Miriam backwards, “Greek Fire!”

Yet Miriam shrugged him off, “Don’t worry. My efforts were correct, that was just a small bit of air trapped inside.” With full confidence, she proceeded to open the portal. “This box has been locked for centuries… until today.”

Alan watched as Miriam reached inside the box and pulled out a small scroll – although it was tiny and non-descript, he did not make the mistake of underestimating its importance, “The Doomsday Missive. Can I finally see it?”

“There’s no time.” Miriam stuffed the scroll into her blouse and began looking all around the room, as if expecting something to happen.

“What do you mean no time?” Alan queried.

Just then, the floor began to <Rumble>.

“Get ready!” Miriam called out above the increasing din.

And as soon as she said it, the floor tilted down, giving way beneath them and sending them falling into the darkness below!

“YAWWW!” Alan screamed as the floor of the Sacra Crytpa gave way, causing he and Miriam to land with a <THUD> in the pitch black below.

“Some ride!” Miriam called out. “Are you alright, Alan?”

“Sure. But some advance warning would have been nice. Miriam, I can’t see a thing. How do we get out of this mess?”

“Easy.” Miriam flicked on her lighter again. “Just go up those stairs.”

Now that I could see too, it appeared my friends were in a rough hewn cavern; the location where they dropped from above was once more closed off and there was apparently no other way to go, except up the stairs Miriam just illuminated (how convenient, eh?)

And so, with Miriam leading the way, the pair trudged upwards. After a short while they reached a small landing – yet this too appeared to end in a blank wall.

“So where does this secret doorway take us?” Alan joked.

“I think you’ll be amused at this one.” Miriam reached high on the right wall and pushed in the release mechanism for this portal.

“Wait a second.” Alan hissed as the door opened. “This is the hidden cove behind the wooden stall in the Chapel of the Choir! But, Miriam, why in the world did we go through that escapade to get to the Sacra Crypta if we could have just walked down a flight of stairs? What are you trying to do to me? If I didn—“

“Alan, dear, what good would it have done to go down these stairs? How would you have gotten into the Sacra Crypta? The trap door ceiling can only be released from inside the Sacra Crypta.”

“So, you’re telling me that had we, or anyone, gone down this stairwell from the Chapel of the Choir it would have been to no avail?”

“The only thing you would have discovered would have been that empty chamber below. There is no way to get into the Sacra Crypta — except by that which we traversed.”

“I see.” Alan said through pursed lips, perhaps not yet ready to let Miriam off the hook for the ordeal he just went through. “Well, what now?”

“First let’s don our disguises.” Miriam began putting on her tourist clothes once more. “Then, we wait till the basilica officially opens again.”

Unfortunately for me, my vision did not allow me to skip ahead this time – instead I had to keep a vigil with them.

Time passed by slowly (for all of us) as they waited in that cramped room.

It’s at times like this that I lament not being able to enjoy a good stiff drink while watching these visions. Quite frankly I never understood why He didn’t allow me this little concession – what harm could it have caused? Hell, had I been able to drink a few brews I’d have been much more willing to endure these revelations over the millennia.

But does He ever think of me?

Of my happiness?

Obviously not!

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36 – Friar Tuck and his Band of UNMerry Men
Book II Table of Contents
Book 2 Rise of the Antichrist

2.28 The Bible Code

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Book II: Chapter 28
July 12

Miriam bowed her head, while Alan sputtered – still unable to accept the possibility there might be a secret vault beneath St. Peter’s Basilica that he knew nothing about, “I don’t believe it!”

“It’s true.” Miriam agreed. “La Papessa had the vault built specifically to house my letter. The construction was completed by a craftsman who was in the employ of the Bishop of Hostia – her son. As it turns out that contractor was an illiterate mute – making him an ideal choice for such a covert job. As far as I know, outside of the craftsman, Pope Joanna, and her son, the only other person that knew about the vault was me.”

“Does anyone have access to that depository now?” Alan asked.

“Three people.” Miriam advised. “The current pope –for among the many articles that come with the Papal Throne, a cryptic message about La Papessa’s vault was included in Pope Francis’ personal artifact collection. However, if we surmise that only those popes who have contacted me about it have actually read the letter, then the number of popes who knew about the vault has been very small indeed.”

“How many?” Alan asked.

“None.” Miriam smiled winsomely, before explaining further, “I doubt that any of the popes have ever looked at La Papessa’s message or spent any time trying to decipher its Bible Code. After all, didn’t we just say that Joanna’s reign was discredited? Thus which pope in his right mind would want to be caught meddling with her affairs? Certainly not the millennial-appeasing Francis. Ah, don’t you see the beautiful tapestry of God’s work — even though Pope Joan suffered, it was not for nothing – for she protected this knowledge from prying eyes, even until this very day!”

“I’d like to believe that, but we can’t be sure.” Alan surmised. “Yet you spoke of THREE people — who are the other two?”

“I believe one could be the Confuto Penitentiary.”  Miriam speculated. “He is the keeper of the most secret items of the Papal Artifacts collection.”

(Dammit, she’s on to something. And when Miriam gets a whiff, she’s like a bloodhound that won’t stop).

“You mean the Major Penitentiary.” Alan corrected.

“No. I mean what I said. The Confuto – Supreme – Penitentiary.”

“I love seeing you two argue.” I interrupted, taking another swig of my drink, having now lost count of how many of my Modelo’s I’d swilled in the last hour. (They sure do go down easy when you’re having fun). “You sound just like an old married couple.”  

Both Alan and Miriam blushed red at that comment, and Alan stuttered, “Miriam, there hasn’t been a Confuto Penitentiary for over two centuries.”

(Ah, but there will be soon, buddy – and I couldn’t help thinking about the mysterious Cardinalate Marrollo’s recent request to Benedict – could Marrollo know about The Sacra Crypta and the secrets it housed?)

“No Confuto in office is a good thing!” Miriam advised. “For that’s one less person we have to worry about. But that still leaves one man left who is all the more important to us. He’s never contacted me about the letter but he still worries me.”

“Benedict.” Alan filled in the blank.

“Benedict.” Miriam agreed.

“We must see him.”  

“We must know which side he is really on.”

“Well, that settles it then. We three shall go to Benedict.”

“Good thing we have our Covid Freedom Passes. When do we leave?”

“I guess that’s up to John.” Alan looked over at me in anticipation.

I took another long pull on my beer, wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, and then leaned back in my chair to make it a recliner, “You two are welcome to get on up out of here whenever you like. And the sooner the better. But as for me, you know I never took the Covid jab so I ain’t got to Vax Pass – and I ain’t about to get one. Naw, I’m just fine where I am.”

“John, how can you say that?” Miriam asked. “Are you concerned about the vaccine’s side effects? But I don’t understand, yes the vaccine is super dangerous, but know they can’t here you.”

I didn’t reply.

“This isn’t about the vaccine or it’s horrible side effects on humanity, Miriam.” Alan surmised. “John probably has more Freedom Passes than we do – albeit homemade ones I’m sure. The fact is that he knows we all must go together.

Still I was steadfast in my silence.

“Bates already has my Nail.” Alan reminded. “Yours and Miriam’s are the weapons we need to defeat him. We can’t afford to let him get them too. If he does, he’ll be able to perform The Armageddon Rite!”

Another taste of my drink, and I licked my lips, “Ah, that’s good. Mr. Modelo sure does brew a good beer, don’t he?”

“Jesus needs you.” Miriam ignored by charades. “I know you are still hurting, but The Lord will restore you again, John — and you will praise Him for it. Don’t you care anymore?”

At that, I jumped out of my chair, sending beer cans flying, “HE doesn’t care about me, so why should I care about him?” Hobbling over to my bookcase, I pulled out the chest that held my Nail, and threw it at them. “If you want that damn thing so bad, you can have it. Go! Do whatever you two want to. Go to Benedict – see how far that gets you. Visit Bates, if you like. I don’t care; just leave me alone to die!”

And with that, I forced Alan and Miriam out of my house – tossing Miriam’s PPE out with them and then slamming the door shut.

Miriam tried banging on the door to get back in, “Refrain from anger and turn from wrath, John — it leads only to evil.”

“Shut up, Mary!” I screamed at her through the door. “When will you understand — that which is twisted cannot be straightened, that which is lacking, cannot be counted.  I am no more than a man forgotten and I just want to be left alone!”

And so they left – off again to pursue their great Commission.

As for me, I was alone at last.

Finally I was ready get to back to work — for The Opus Magnum beckoned. And this time I vowed to continue that rite until the very end… and hopefully die trying!

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29 – Leavin’ on a Jet Plane
Book II Table of Contents
Book 2 Rise of the Antichrist, Mary Magdalene, St John the Apostle

2.27 A Rose by Any Other Name

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Book II: Chapter 27
July 12

My last jibe did not disappoint – and with both Alan and Miriam wfhite-faced, I went for the kill, “Lighten up, people. I know we can’t switch sides. But if Michael wants to do his thing – fine. And if you two want to stop Bates or Ma’bus or whoever he is – also fine. Just leave me out of it.” Then I clicked on the TV – hoping they would finally get the hint.

Miriam walked over, rudely snatched the remote (yes, the remote that I had just recently learned how to use!), and then turned the TV back off. “Stern discipline awaits him who leaves the path, John! You’re not listening.”

“WHAT?” I roared. “WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO KNOW?”

“Don’t you see — Michael’s offensive is a SECRET attack! I wrote about this in my letter to La Papessa. In the end, after consulting the scriptures, she marked my letter signum eternus and locked it within the most secret of the Vatican’s vaults – where it been ever since.”

“The Biblioteca Apostolica?” Alan asked. When Miriam shook her head, he wondered, “Then your letter must be in The Archives of the Apos––?”

The Vatican Archives

“Alan,” Miriam interrupted. “It’s not in any location under the control of The Apostolic Penitentiary.”

“Then what other secret vault could you be referring to?”

“I’m referring to the… the… Sacra Crypta.” Miriam whispered.

The Sacra Crypta

(Bingo! That’s what I was trying to remember when Joseph was considering Cardinal Marrollo for Confuto Penitentiary – a post that would give him access to the Sacra Crypta. Damn, it’s all starting to make sense now).

Alan’s eyes narrowed, “My dear Miriam, remember who you’re talking to – you don’t seriously expect me to believe that such a warehouse has remained outside of MY knowledge for lo these many centuries?”

“I’m not sure what to say, Alan, but The Sacra Crypta does indeed exist.”

“Then where is it located?” Alan snapped, clearly embarrassed.

“Beneath the church of Santo Stefano degli Ungheresi.”

“Impossible. That church was pulled down in 1776.”

“True. But what else do you know about it?”

“Santo Stefano was established by Charlemagne in the 9th century.” Alan recalled. “And I was in attendance when Pope Sylvester II later granted it to King Stephen I of Hungary back around 1000. In fact, that church was a key diplomatic link between Hungary and the Vatican for centuries.”

“OK. OK.” I tried to move the story along. “What happened next, Professor?”

“Hmm.” Alan tried to remember. “I moved away from Rome again around 1100, and by then the church fell into some disrepair. In 1776 Pope Pius VI pulled down Santo Stefano and built a new sacristy for St. Peter’s.”

“If you loved it so much, why didn’t you stop this?” I teased.

“John, as you might recall, we three were tied up dealing with Weishaupt at the time. Regardless, Saint Stephen’s church was torn down – so now all that remains are its Roman columns – which I convinced Pius, by letter, to place in the new sacristy of the St. Peter’s.”

“Alan, you’re correct on all of that.” Miriam agreed. “I know how much you loved that chapel. However, you overlooked one thing.”

“Oh, what’s that?” Alan asked, an eyebrow raised in disbelief.

“There was a secret cellar under Santo Stefano.”

“What?!? That’s impossible.” Alan was offended. “Why, I’ve been there a thousand times, how could I never have known about it? There wasn’t any such feature in the original construction.”

“She said it was a secret.” I laughed.

Alan’s look at me was pure ice, yet it was Miriam who spoke again. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you. I was sworn to secrecy.”

“Who built this vault? Who kept you from telling us?”

“The answer to that question is one and the same.” Miriam began.

But it was I who filled in the blank, “Don’t tell me — Pope Joan?”

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28 – The Bible Code
Book II Table of Contents
Book 2 Rise of the Antichrist

2.26 Pope Joan?

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Book II: Chapter 26
July 12

I think my jaw fell open at Miriam’s revelation, but it was Alan who first asked, “Archangel Michael is actually in battle again? This is momentous indeed!”

“Why are you so surprised? I already told you about this back in 856, I wrote about this very event in a letter to… er… Pope John VIII.”

“Loannes Octavus?” Alan was confused. “But, he reigned from 872 to 882?”

“I wasn’t talking about Octavus. I was referring to Joanna Anglicus.”

“Pope Joan?” I cackled in delight – grateful for the change of subject. “Oh how I always loved that fiasco.”

“What choice did the Church have but to cover up that scandal?” Alan was quick to defend.  And before we could stop him, he embarked on a history lecture. “You know the story told by the chronicler Martin of Opava – the orphan Joanna Anglicus was raised to live as a man by her older lover, a Greek named Frumentius. In Athens, Joanna became proficient in a wide range of knowledge, and as time wore on her intellect knew no equal. When she later went to Rome, a high opinion of her arose in the city, and she became first a papal secretary, then a cardinal, and finally, when her respect was at its peak, she was elected Pope John VIII – the FIRST to be called that name.”

“Ah, but she couldn’t abide by the Vow of Celibacy, eh?” I chuckled, “for while pope she became pregnant by Frumentius!”

Pope Joan

“Indeed. And through ignorance of the time when she was to deliver,” Alan continued, “while Joanna was mounting a horse, she was delivered of a child. That event occurred in a lane once named Via Sacra, but now known as the shunned street – its location is between the Coliseum and St. Clement’s, and as you both know, no current popes will travel down that street. In the end, to avoid a scandal of momentous proportions, Joanna’s name was removed from the list of holy pontiffs — both because of her female sex and on account of the… delicacy of the matter.”

“A changing of the records made all the easier because of the destruction of knowledge that occurred during the Dark Ages.” Miriam said gloomily. “And yet, I still believe Joanna could have been one of the greatest Church leaders of all time. After all, she was the one who–.”

“And but let’s not overlook the legendary ending to this tale,” I interrupted.  “After giving birth, our Pope Joan was bound by the feet to her horse’s tail and dragged through the streets and stoned. And until 1485, at the place of her supposed grave, it was written: Petre, Pater Patrum, Papisse Prodito Partum – ‘O Peter, Father of Fathers, Betray the childbearing of the woman pope’.”

“Wait, as I recall,” Alan said, “Joanna wasn’t really stoned to death?”

“Correct,” I advised. “The official unofficial version was that she was deposed for incontinence and forced into a convent. Meanwhile, to keep her quiet the new pope made Joanna’s son the Bishop of Hostia. And, in a final twist of irony, when Joanna was on her deathbed, she instructed that her burial should be in that place where she had given birth – the Via Sacra! Ha, oh the miracles which God works, eh?”

“But what has all this—“ Alan began.

“Wait,” I was still laughing. “Don’t forget the sedes stercoraria!”

“What’s he talking about?” Miriam was annoyed with this tangent.

“He’s referring to… defecation seats.” Alan stammered. “It seems, after Joanna, pope-elects were forced to sit on a special throne — with a hole in it.”

“For what purpose?” Miriam asked, confused.

“To verify the sex of the pope!” I grinned impishly.

“Preposterous!” Miriam gasped. “You two are making all this up.”

“Ah, I’m afraid John is telling the truth.” Alan blushed. “After Joanna, prior to any official announcement, the new pope-elect was made to sit upon the sedes stercoraria, robes lifted so that his bare bottom touched the seat. The chair was hollow in the middle and underneath, therefore the cardinals were allowed to reach underneath and… ah, confirm he was indeed a man.”

A long line of cardinals could make for a long day…

(This is true, my friends. Check it out for yourself if you don’t believe me).

“Why that’s just horrible.” Miriam was aghast at the thought.

“What’s so bad about a little—“ I started off again.

“Be that as it may.” Alan raised his voice to drown out my bawdy humor. “We must get back to the tale at hand. Miriam, regarding what you wrote to Pope Joanna about Michael’s war on terror, please, tell us more.”

Thankful to be past that last bit of the conversation, Miriam advised, “Among other things, I wrote about the climax of The Infernal War – a covert attack led by Michael against the walls of the underworld.”

“Moving the battle lines,” Alan agreed, “from Heaven’s Bates — where they have been since Lucifer’s Fall – to a new front: The Doors of Hell! Yes, I remember, now; it was a bold tactical move – something I ever wondered why Michael didn’t do previously.”

“Because that time was never right… until now.”

(Damn, if she’s right about this…)

“But how can you be sure, Miriam?” Alan asked.

“Shortly before I rescued you, Alan, Gabriel revealed that Michael is on the move and that Hell itself was about to be laid to waste.”

“Well, that settles it then, eh?” I chimed in. “If Michael is taking matters into his own hands, then what do they need us for? I guess we can all relax. Seems like our entire existence has been nothing but—“

“John, stop!” Miriam yelled. “You know that even if Michael does open the gates of Hell, if the Antichrist stops the Second Coming of Jesus in this world, then Lucifer can escape Michael and come here. God would be driven away and the earth would then become Lucifer’s new home!”

“All hope would be gone.” Alan surmised. “The battle would be over, and we would end up be on the losing side.”

“Not if we change sides now.” I said in a deadpan tone, looking at each of my companions and waiting to see how they replied.

(I’m a stinker, I know. But an old man’s gotta have some fun, neh?)

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27 – A Rose by any other Name
Book II Table of Contents