While the majority of Vikings had been driven from Ireland by the great king Brian Boru in 1014, there were still scattered regions where the violent warriors of the north would come to raid. They most often struck the richer communities along the rivers, as they not only possessed the greatest spoils but also provided the easiest escape routes for the narrow and swift Viking ships. It was one of these raids along the River Shannon that had razed Conn’s hometown and led to the brutal deaths of most of the villagers, including his parents, sisters, and brothers.
The monastery where Conn lived was looted and burned to the ground; the gentle and learned brothers who had become his second family were hacked to pieces. Conn was now truly an orphan. Worse, he could not bear the sight of his desecrated village and violated monastery. He buried his family and his brother monks with his own hands over the next days, then set out with a determination to leave Ireland. He could no longer remain in a place where such violence was a daily possibility, when all he craved was solitude and learning.
Remembering happier days with the brothers, Conn’s thoughts turned to a visiting monk who had come from Gaul. The monk was the most learned man Conn had ever met. He was fascinating and full of wisdom. He was also very gentle and loving, unusual qualities in a scholar. Conn loved all the brothers at the monastery, even the stringent abbot who beat him periodically when he was caught delving into the Celtic pagan mythologies that were preserved in the library. But this French monk was the first truly holy man Conn believed he had ever met. The monk, who told Conn that he had no name, talked of his education in a place called Chartres, where there was a school of the spirit unlike any other on earth. When the elder monks were long in their beds, Conn would stay up and listen to the Frenchman speak in terms that were clearly heretical. And yet he wasn’t shocked by the stranger’s point of view. He was fascinated, recognizing a strange truth in the startling perspective, and each revelation left him hungering for more information.
The visitor told Conn of the man called Fulbert, who was the bishop of Chartres as well as the force behind the great school associated with the cathedral. When a tragic and possibly intentional fire burned part of the cathedral to the ground in 1020, it was Fulbert who rebuilt it in a solid, traditional Romanesque style. He took great care to hire the finest craftsmen, focusing on the sacred crypt under the cathedral. The crypt covered a primeval well—said to be the holiest on the planet—and the sanctified pear-wood carving of Notre Dame, called Our Lady Under the Earth. Fulbert protected and preserved all these items with utmost care.
The French monk spoke of the teachings of the great Greeks, specifically of Plato and Socrates, and of a teaching method called dialectic, which was one of the acknowledged liberal arts. Dialectic was the method of civilized argument, and it was through this teaching that men were made to think and thoroughly analyze a proposition and a counterproposition. It was through this dialectic teaching that Fulbert’s greatest student emerged, the man who would be known to history as Berengar of Tours. While Berengar would eventually inherit the leadership of the Chartres school at the passing of his mentor, Fulbert, it was his vitriolic battle with the Church that made him infamous. Berengar proposed an opposition to the doctrine of transubstantiation, the Church’s belief that the sacramental bread and wine of the Eucharist physically becomes the body and blood of Christ once it is consecrated. He put forth that this was meant to be a spiritual concept rather than a physical one, citing earliest Church fathers and a “mysterious ancient text” to lend credence to his argument.
It was the secret and mysterious text, which the monk referred to as the Book of Love, that obsessed the young Conn as he listened to the Frenchman’s stories. The brother whispered for Conn’s ears alone that this great book had been written in the hand of the Lord himself and brought to France by Maria Magdalena following the crucifixion. It was her descendants who had protected the teachings that came from it through the millennium. But the religious climate in France was changing, becoming less tolerant and more dogmatic, and these secret truth teachings were suddenly dangerous. Followers of the Book of Love, the pure Christians who would become known as the Cathars, were forced underground and found secret ways to carry on their teachings. It was through Neoplatonism and the revival of Greek philosophy and dialogues that the heretical teachings continued in the region of La Beauce. Many of the more controversial principles from early Christianity were re-dressed in Greek thought so that they could be argued as scholarship rather than heresy.
It was in one of these dialogues that Berengar of Tours first raised the challenge to transubstantiation. Explaining this to Conn, the monk quietly imparted a teaching from the Book of Love, reciting from this heretical document:
What is my flesh? My flesh is the Word, the Truth of the Logos.
What is my blood? My blood is the Breath, the exaltation of the Spirit that animates the flesh.
Whosoever welcomes the Word and the Breath has truly received sustenance and clothing,
For this is food, drink, and raiment.
This bread is my flesh, and it is the Word of Truth.
This wine is my blood, and it is the Breath of Spirit.
Conn was transfixed. While the verses were undoubtedly heretical, they were also beautiful. And most of all, it simply made sense to him that Jesus was possibly using the flesh and blood, the bread and wine, as metaphors.
The Church, however, did not find this perspective beautiful in the least. The outcry from within France and subsequently Rome very nearly destroyed Berengar, who was imprisoned by the French king for his heresy and spent the remainder of his life in a constant struggle with Church authority.
Conn dreamed of the day that he could meet more men like this French monk and his extraordinary teachers, who challenged everything in the name of truth and wisdom. He vowed that one day he would see this school for himself, and it was this that he was determined to accomplish following the Viking massacre. Perhaps he would find the peace that he sought in the school at Chartres.
The young Conn traveled south and sold the costly ink and paper to a monastery outside Tralee. With the money he bought his way aboard a ship sailing to the place of the Normans in Gaul. From there he would make his way to Chartres, either by horse or by foot. He prayed for God to forgive him for using the monastery’s supplies to support himself, but he had no other means at the moment and he pledged to do good works as his penance. Thus he arrived at his destination, on the doorstep of Fulbert’s cathedral, recently reconstructed over the damaged ninth-century edifice—itself constructed over a site considered to be holy ground for thousands of years.
Conn studied at Chartres for nearly ten years, applying his naturally swift intellect to becoming expert in Neoplatonism, Greek language and thought, all aspects of religious theory and doctrine, and European history. But it was the heresy that reached into his spirit and took root. It was the teachings from the Book of Love that became Conn’s raison d’être. These teachings were not offered to everyone. They were part of the mystery school that was attached to the formal cathedral school. One had to earn admission into the mystery school through good works and strong intentions toward wisdom. Conn, an astonishing pupil, became a master of the material in record time.
The associated teachings of the labyrinth were critical to the mystery school of Chartres, and Conn walked the eleven circuits each day before beginning his studies. There was not, at this time, a labyrinth in the cathedral. There was a garden labyrinth built of stones, which was nonetheless effective. This labyrinth was based on the Solomon design with a rounded center for the initiate to pray in upon arriving in the heart of the circle. It was in the center of this garden labyrinth, in the shadow of Fulbert’s rebuilt structure, that Conn received the vision that would change the course of his life.
It began as a vision of the archangel Michael, the messenger of light who defeats the darkness. Michael carried his flaming sword of truth and righteousness with him as he hovered over
the labyrinth and over Conn. The angel reminded him that his name, Micha-El, meant “he who is like God.” Then Conn saw a little girl, perhaps nine or ten years old, with coppery red hair and an extraordinary energy. She was under attack by unseen forces, and Michael swung his sword over the girl’s head to dispel the darkness that threatened to encroach upon the child. He then turned and spoke to Conn.
“Behold, your promise. It was to protect this girl, this daughter of God, above all else and for as long as necessary. You will become her brother and her knight protector, you will be as I am to you, an angel of light that defeats the darkness. But make no mistake, this is a battle of good versus evil, and you will be called upon to fight the evil.
“This child awaits you in Tuscany. Go to where the duke of Lorraine lives in Florence, and there you will find your calling to protect her.”
Conn was dumbfounded. Here was without a doubt a vision of such clarity, such pure message, that he could do nothing but obey it. He had devoted a decade of his life to intensive spiritual training in order to receive just such messages clearly. But the warrior’s life was not for him, surely. While he was strong and athletic, and had already grown into his enormous frame at this stage, he did not desire to be a soldier. Why did God not give him the chance to stay at Chartres and ultimately become a teacher there? Why did he have such desires if it was not his destiny? This was a spiritual crisis for Conn, because the Book of Love teaches that our dreams as humans are not accidental, they are not random. They are our soul’s means of reminding us what we are here to do to fulfill our promise to God. Then why did he crave the solitude and peace of the school when he was told that his calling was war? Why did he love Chartres beyond all reason and want nothing more than to live and die in the shadow of the blessed cathedral and its wisdom school?
It would take Conn many years to understand the answer completely, and this in itself was a critical piece of the teaching. For it is true that we often discover meanings and reasons for things many years after they mattered quite so much to us.
Conn had made a promise to his Lord, and he intended to keep it. But before he could be worthy of defending this petite princess, he would need to hone his warrior skills. Thus it was that Conn became a mercenary, hiring himself out across Europe to gain skill and experience from the greatest captains on the continent. It was after he had earned the nickname “of the Hundred Battles” that he determined he was ready to find Matilda in Florence. Taking a commission with Duke Godfrey, Conn bided his time, watching the petite countess surreptitiously until the day that Godfrey sought him out and requested that he become her weapons master.
Tears streamed down Conn’s face as he told Matilda how much he loved her, how she was truly his sister of the heart and spirit and that defending her was the most sacred and honorable duty he could have asked for. And then he told her the rest, and she realized the reason for his tears.
Conn was leaving her to begin the next phase of his destiny, and to realize his ultimate dream. He was returning to Chartres and taking the Master with him. Together, they would bring the Libro Rosso to a place of ultimate protection, where it would be safely out of Henry’s destructive reach once and for all.
In honor of the Lucchesi traditions that surrounded the Volto Santo, a cart was constructed to transport the Libro Rosso in exactly the same way that the Holy Face had once been pulled across Italy. Matilda provided two snow white oxen to drive the cart on which the Ark of the New Covenant would be carried to its new home. These travelers would have to be very careful crossing through the war-ravaged region of northern Italy with their precious cargo. The ark was encased in a simple wooden covering so the gilded and jeweled majesty of the true container would be obscured. A false bottom was installed in the cart to hide the Libro Rosso, and another “relic” was devised to be stored in the ark. An artist created a rendition of Veronica’s veil, made to appear as an impression of the face of Christ on a silken white cloth. It was a spiritual pun of sorts for the Order, as the face imprinted on Veronica’s veil was sometimes referred to as the Volto Santo, as was their sacred treasure in Lucca. This manufactured relic was placed within the ark as a safety measure: if they were stopped by German troops, they would tell the story of this holy veil and how they were carrying it out of Italy and into France for its protection in the abbey of Cluny. For all their barbaric violence in this war, it was unlikely that any German soldier was going to accost monks who were carrying such a holy relic. Besides, they were leaving Italy, not entering it.
Finally, in order for Conn to appear utterly convincing as a monk, he shaved his head. When Matilda saw him for the first time, she burst into tears.
“Oh God, you really are leaving me.” She threw herself into his arms and cried like a child. Conn hugged her and stroked her hair, singing to her in his Celtic language for the final time.
“I am only leaving you temporarily. Le temps revient, little sister. You know that the families of spirit are never truly separated. I will see you soon, wherever God decrees.” He pulled away from her and cupped her chin with his huge hand. “You will be well cared for. Arduino is a better strategist than I have ever been, the best military leader in Italy. If anyone can help you reclaim your lands from Henry, it is Arduino. And you have a new watchdog, don’t you? One who will protect you fearlessly.”
He was referring to Ugo Manfredi, the maimed husband of Matilda’s murdered cousin. Through his rehabilitation, Ugo had spent time with Conn. While he had lived most of his life as a farmer, that work had also made him strong and hearty. And he was clever. The combination would turn him into an effective warrior, the kind who was utterly without fear as he had nothing whatsoever left to lose. Once recovered, Ugo became a physical force to be reckoned with, and that force was fiercely devoted to the Tuscan countess who had applied the healing unguents to his eye socket with her own hands.
Matilda did not begrudge Conn this mission. Far from it, she was grateful that the Libro Rosso and the Master would have the most effective protection in Europe. She handed Conn a little bundle as a final gift. “Take her with you. She has been with me since I was born and I have always felt that she watched over me. Now she will watch over the two of you.”
Conn pulled away the cloth that covered the faded but still exquisitely beautiful little statue of Saint Modesta. His eyes welled as he whispered, “Modesta. We are both going home.”
Matilda grasped his free hand in hers and began the sacred recitation that is applicable to love in all its guises, a sacrament that he knew as well as she.
I have loved you before
I love you today
And I will love you again
The time returns.
They choked through it together for their final time in this life, through their tears.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Vatican City
present day
Maureen walked into Saint Peter’s with a different purpose now, and that was to pay her respects to the woman she had come here originally to meet and now felt that she knew intimately—the miraculous, inspiring, and completely larger-than-life Tuscan countess, Matilda of Canossa.
The complete version of Matilda’s autobiography ended with the departure of Conn and the Master for Chartres. It was as if Matilda lost interest in the details of her life after that. Gregory was dead, and her spiritual adviser and best friend had left her for France. Anselmo had also passed away, and Isobel was running the Order in Lucca. Matilda carried on and continued to fight against Henry and for Tuscany, and most of all to secure the throne of Saint Peter against secular influence. She did all these things because she had made a promise to do so: a promise to God, to herself, and to her people. And she would never rest until that promise was kept.
There were more pages in Matilda’s autobiography, but these were akin to basic diary entries that marked major events of significance. One that stood out for Peter said, “Letter from Patricio, who is leaving Orval and going to Chartres.”
It did not indicate why Patricio was abandoning his cherished Orval, but Matilda would have been struggling to hold on to her territories in Lorraine, and it was likely a dangerous place to be her ally during the wars.
Peter was driven to do the research into Matilda’s later life, so that he could bring closure to the story for Maureen, who had become obsessed with the Tuscan countess. Maureen was desperate to know if Matilda ever saw any real justice where Henry IV was concerned, and Peter was very happy to tell her that she did. It took many years, but Matilda eventually won the war for Tuscany and against Henry. Henry’s wife and his own son even defected to Matilda’s camp eventually, seeking refuge in Tuscany from the tyrannical Henry, who had physically abused his wife with such violence that she sought legal action against him. Historical documents indicated that Queen Adelaide, a former Russian princess, begged Matilda for asylum as she recounted horrors of Henry’s sexual proclivities, including orgies and black masses.
Maureen was struck by this amazing aspect of Matilda’s story. She was an icon of women’s rights, hundreds of years before such a term was ever popularly understood. Matilda was possibly the first woman to demand a prenuptial agreement, just as she was the first woman to shelter victims of domestic violence and protect them from the perpetrators—even when the abuser was a king.
Slowly and carefully, with the strategy of a master chess player, Matilda rebuilt Tuscany. Her political strength and her wealth returned gradually, and when it did, she went after Henry’s strongholds in Italy. In the autumn of 1092, while wearing her now legendary copper armor, Matilda led an army against Henry’s troops who had held the region surrounding Canossa for far too long. It was, by all historical accounts, an example of military strategy at its most ingenious. Matilda, with Ugo Manfredi and Arduino della Paluda at her side, routed the Germans. With their base of operations recovered, the Tuscan armies eliminated the German presence from the majority of Matilda’s territories over the course of the next three years, and she reigned un-opposed for the remainder of her long life.