Temple of The Grail by Adriana Koulias

hideous, vermin.
    Thus we continued, seeing little
beyond a few paces as the evening fog descended. Half way across the main
courtyard, my master handed me a parchment. I held it to my face, and as we
neared the lighted cloister door I could barely make out a message, written in
Greek,
    Those who inquire the light of knowledge, die in blind
ignorance.
    ‘But that does not make sense,’ I
remarked.
    ‘I suspect that what he meant to say
was . . .’ my master instructed, ‘those who seek the light of knowledge die in
blind ignorance. An incautious translator such as yourself may very easily
confuse the words seek and inquiry. The Greek vernacular, like Latin,
Christian, is fraught with traps for the unsuspecting.’ He proceeded to tell me
that someone had left the parchment in his cell while we were out investigating
the abbey.
    I was about to ask many questions when
I realised that we were almost upon Eisik whose figure stood just inside the
east door. He looked like a man unable to decide his next movements, taking one
step forward, and then shaking his head, taking two steps back. All the while
he muttered lengthy lines of dialogue in Hebrew below his breath, which, in the
cold, created billowy clouds around his form.
    ‘Holy fathers!’ he exclaimed, turning
around and staring at us with his big eyes as though he were looking at the Devil
himself. ‘You startle me! Feel my heart, for the love of Abraham! It pounds
like that of a hare!’ then, ‘You’re late, late I tell you! And now what misery
. . .! All eyes will be upon me. I think I shall return to the stables to eat
in peace!’ He turned to leave, but my master stopped him.
    ‘Nonsense, old man! It will be a fine
dinner, you are my guest and therefore welcome. Walk with us and tell us your
thoughts. Come, what do you think of the abbey? Is it filled with the ghosts of
dead monks, then?’ my master said, laughing a little because he thought lightly
about such things, but I shuddered as we entered the dark and solemn cloister.
    ‘By the God of Israel you are
impertinent!’ Eisik scowled and pointed his finger at my master. ‘We must not
laugh before mysterious and holy things! We must have reverence!’
    ‘I beg your pardon, Eisik,’ my master
said, ‘but you have not answered my question. Tell me, what are your
impressions of the abbey?’
    ‘That you should ask me such a
question is beyond my understanding!’ He shrugged his shoulders, ‘Have I not
trained you to see the signs? They will have eyes to see but will not see, ears
to hear but will not listen . . . It seems you have forgotten what I have told
you, namely, that everything is an outward and visible suggestion of an inward
and spiritual being.’ He sighed. ‘Well, well, it seems an old man must repeat
himself ad infinitum or else leave men to their ignorance . . . There
are signs! Signs that point to signs whose indications allude to other signs,
sometimes tangible, other times indiscernible, though always, to an initiate,
very clear; that is to one who cares to listen. For one who is able to decipher
the meaning of meaningful things, the voice of the spirit is crystalline.’ He
paused then, stopping us with his hands and cocking his head to one side. ‘Ahh!
You see! Everything speaks!’ he affirmed with a shake of his head.
    ‘Come, it is you who must speak, but
not in riddles,’ My master said.
    ‘Bah! Knowledge lies not in the
person who speaks but rather in the person who listens . . . or was that
eloquence? I cannot remember now . . . In any event, this will be the first day
that a Nazarene admits to needing Jewish knowledge! As I have said, the signs
are all here. The abbey faces east, accessed through a forest, like the mystery
temple at Ephesus where the image of the Goddess Artemisia also faced east.
Behind it the mountains, ahead of it the valley, the sages tell us that the orientals
consider this alignment quite favourable,’ then he smiled. ‘And also
strategically