The Tribe of Benjamin

* * *

“Mary Magdalene is here,” Teabing said, pointing near the top of the genealogy.

Sophie was surprised. “She was of the House of Benjamin?”

“Indeed,” Teabing said. “Mary Magdalene was of royal descent.”

“But I was under the impression Magdalene was poor.”

Teabing shook his head. “Magdalene was recast as a whore in order to erase evidence of her powerful family ties.”

Sophie found herself again glancing at Langdon, who again nodded. She turned back to Teabing. “But why would the early Church care if Magdalene had royal blood?”

The Briton smiled. “My dear child, it was not Mary Magdalene’s royal blood that concerned the Church so much as it was her consorting with Christ, who also had royal blood. As you know, the Book of Matthew tells us that Jesus was of the House of David. A descendant of King Solomon—King of the Jews. By marrying into the powerful House of Benjamin, Jesus fused two royal bloodlines, creating a potent political union with the potential of making a legitimate claim to the throne and restoring the line of kings as it was under Solomon.”

Sophie sensed he was at last coming to his point.

Teabing looked excited now. “The legend of the Holy Grail is a legend about royal blood. When Grail legend speaks of 'the chalice that held the blood of Christ' . . . it speaks, in fact, of Mary Magdalene—the female womb that carried Jesus’ royal bloodline.”

The words seemed to echo across the ballroom and back before they fully registered in Sophie’s mind. Mary Magdalene carried the royal bloodline of Jesus Christ? “But how could Christ have a bloodline unless . . . ?” She paused and looked at Langdon.

Langdon smiled softly. “Unless they had a child.”

Sophie stood transfixed.

“Behold,” Teabing proclaimed, “the greatest cover‑up in human history. Not only was Jesus Christ married, but He was a father. My dear, Mary Magdalene was the Holy Vessel. She was the chalice that bore the royal bloodline of Jesus Christ. She was the womb that bore the lineage, and the vine from which the sacred fruit sprang forth!”

Sophie felt the hairs stand up on her arms. “But how could a secret that big be kept quiet all of these years?”

“Heavens!” Teabing said. “It has been anything but quiet! The royal bloodline of Jesus Christ is the source of the most enduring legend of all time—the Holy Grail. Magdalene’s story has been shouted from the rooftops for centuries in all kinds of metaphors and languages. Her story is everywhere once you open your eyes.”

“And the Sangreal documents?” Sophie said. “They allegedly contain proof that Jesus had a royal bloodline?”

“They do.”

“So the entire Holy Grail legend is all about royal blood?”

“Quite literally,” Teabing said. “The word Sangreal derives from San Greal—or Holy Grail. But in its most ancient form, the word Sangreal was divided in a different spot.” Teabing wrote on a piece of scrap paper and handed it to her.

She read what he had written.

Sang Real

* * *

Instantly, Sophie recognized the translation. Sang Real literally meant Royal Blood.

CHAPTER 59

The male receptionist in the lobby of the Opus Dei headquarters on Lexington Avenue in New York City was surprised to hear Bishop Aringarosa’s voice on the line. “Good evening, sir.”

“Have I had any messages?” the bishop demanded, sounding unusually anxious.

“Yes, sir. I’m very glad you called in. I couldn’t reach you in your apartment. You had an urgent phone message about half an hour ago.”

“Yes?” He sounded relieved by the news. “Did the caller leave a name?”

“No, sir, just a number.” The operator relayed the number.

“Prefix thirty‑three? That’s France, am I right?”

“Yes, sir. Paris. The caller said it was critical you contact him immediately.”

“Thank you. I have been waiting for that call.” Aringarosa quickly severed the connection.

As the receptionist hung up the receiver, he wondered why Aringarosa’s phone connection sounded so crackly. The bishop’s daily schedule showed him in New York this weekend, and yet he sounded a world away. The receptionist shrugged it off. Bishop Aringarosa had been acting very strangely the last few months.

* * *

My cellular phone must not have been receiving, Aringarosa thought as the Fiat approached the exit for Rome’s Ciampino Charter Airport. The Teacher was trying to reach me . Despite Aringarosa’s concern at having missed the call, he felt encouraged that the Teacher felt confident enough to call Opus Dei headquarters directly.

Things must have gone well in Paris tonight.

As Aringarosa began dialing the number, he felt excited to know he would soon be in Paris. I’ll be on the ground before dawn . Aringarosa had a chartered turbo prop awaiting him here for the short flight to France. Commercial carriers were not an option at this hour, especially considering the contents of his briefcase.

The line began to ring.

A female voice answered. “Direction Centrale Police Judidaire.”

Aringarosa felt himself hesitate. This was unexpected. “Ah, yes . . . I was asked to call this number?”

“Qui кtes‑vous?” the woman said. “Your name?”

Aringarosa was uncertain if he should reveal it. The French Judicial Police?

“Your name, monsieur?” the woman pressed.

“Bishop Manuel Aringarosa.”

“Un moment.” There was a click on the line.

After a long wait, another man came on, his tone gruff and concerned. “Bishop, I am glad I finally reached you. You and I have much to discuss.”

CHAPTER 60

Sangreal . . . Sang Real . . . San Greal . . . Royal Blood . . . Holy Grail.

It was all intertwined.

The Holy Grail is Mary Magdalene . . . the mother of the royal bloodline of Jesus Christ . Sophie felt a new wave of disorientation as she stood in the silence of the ballroom and stared at Robert Langdon. The more pieces Langdon and Teabing laid on the table tonight, the more unpredictable this puzzle became.

“As you can see, my dear,” Teabing said, hobbling toward a bookshelf, “Leonardo is not the only one who has been trying to tell the world the truth about the Holy Grail. The royal bloodline of Jesus Christ has been chronicled in exhaustive detail by scores of historians.” He ran a finger down a row of several dozen books.

Sophie tilted her head and scanned the list of titles:

The Templar Revelation:

Date: 2016-03-03; view: 508