London, England, November 8, 1473

“Sir Arthur it is time,” the young man signaled. He, like the nine others, four men, five women, was dressed in a white silk tunic; his forehead adorned with black ash in the form of two small letters: cc.  The cavernous basement of Sir Arthur’s country estate, set on twenty acres, outside of London was dark and drafty, the stonewalls cold to the touch, but that would change.  The nine men and women were each handed a candle by Sir Arthur and they formed a circle.  They placed the candles at their feet and then knelt down in front of the flickering light; holding hands they began to sway; their shadows dancing against the walls.  In unison they chanted, their voices consumed with lust:  “We kneel in reverence to Aristippus; we kneel in reverence to the supremacy of pleasure, May we go forth we the Chamber of Cyrenaic.”

            They stood and each man pared with a woman, they removed their tunics and the men placed each woman on one of the five stone tables that sat side by side in the center of the room. The men embraced the women, and they chanted, “It is pleasure we seek, it is pleasure we desire, it is pleasure we obey.”  They repeated the chant over and over, working themselves up to a fever pitch, their bodies drenched with sweat, the stonewalls vibrating, thundering.  Then the men traded places with the women.  Each man lay prostrate on the table and the women straddled them.  The women clasped hands and in unison swayed rhythmically in a circular motion.  As the intensity of their movements increased both the men and women screamed, “It is the union of pleasure.”  After they finished, they gathered in a circle and Sir Arthur placed a gold tipped sword in the center of the circle.  Each person picked up the sword, raised it above his head, and then slowly lowered the sword towards the stomach, slightly piercing the bellybutton, so that a trickle of blood was released.  After each person was finished, Sir Arthur placed the sword back in the center of the circle, knelt down and picked up a leather satchel.  He opened it slowly and retrieved what was inside.  The nine touched what was in Sir Arthur’s hand, then knelt down and bowed their heads.  Sir Arthur spoke:  “This that I possess in my hands is the symbol of power and unity, it is our greatest strength and it must be protected from the hands of evil.  The piercing of our stomachs signifies a solemn oath that the Chamber will never reveal knowledge of its existence until the appointed time; do you swear to this oath?”

            “We do.” They responded.

            “Then it is complete.”

London, England, 1499

Jeremiah Pratt and Richard Black were nervous, but supremely confident that they were doing the right thing, after all they surmised, it is God’s will.  The two men didn’t say a word to each other as they quickly made their way towards Deptford, a section of London where men such as themselves, normally stood out like sore thumbs.  Tonight they looked like the town’s regular inhabitants, traders, pirates, soldiers; their disguises not to overdone as to stand out.  The night air was crisp, unusually crisp for June, but weather was the last thing on their minds.  This evening was a long time coming and not without risk.  If they were discovered there deaths would be a foregone conclusion.  Jeremiah and Richard smiled as they reached their destination, an old stone tavern, whose claim to fame was good liquor, loose women and a spectacular roof top view of Greenwich Palace.  The tavern was lively and raucous as usual but drinking and loose women were not on Richard and Jeremiah’s agenda.  The two men bypassed the front entrance and slipped around back, to the cellar door, which was locked.  Jeremiah reached into his trousers and retrieved a skeleton key.  He opened the lock and slowly pulled open the door.  Richard lit the candle that he was carrying and they climbed down the steps.  The stone cellar was dank and musty but it was suitable for their purposes.  The two men changed into long black silk robes and waited.  Like clockwork they heard banging on the cellar door; a double knock, then a series of staccato knocks, four in all, which signified it was the other members of the brotherhood.