"That is the Priory symbol for the Grail. Mary Magdalene. Because her name was forbidden by
the Church, Mary Magdalene became secretly known by many pseudonyms— the Chalice, the
Holy Grail, and the Rose." He paused. "The Rose has ties to the five-pointed pentacle of Venus
and the guiding Compass Rose. By the way, the word rose is identical in English, French,
German, and many other languages."
"Rose," Langdon added, "is also an anagram of Eros, the Greek god of sexual love."
Sophie gave him a surprised look as Teabing plowed on.
"The Rose has always been the premiere symbol of female sexuality. In primitive goddess
cults, the five petals represented the five stations of female life— birth, menstruation,
motherhood, menopause, and death. And in modern times, the flowering rose's ties to
womanhood are considered more visual." He glanced at Robert. "Perhaps the symbologist could
explain?"
Robert hesitated. A moment too long.
"Oh, heavens!" Teabing huffed. "You Americans are such prudes." He looked back at
Sophie. "What Robert is fumbling with is the fact that the blossoming flower resembles the
female genitalia, the sublime blossom from which all mankind enters the world. And if you've
ever seen any paintings by Georgia O'Keeffe, you'll know exactly what I mean."
"The point here," Langdon said, motioning back to the bookshelf, "is that all of these books
substantiate the same historical claim."
"That Jesus was a father." Sophie was still uncertain.
"Yes," Teabing said. "And that Mary Magdalene was the womb that carried His royal
lineage. The Priory of Sion, to this day, still worships Mary Magdalene as the Goddess, the Holy
Grail, the Rose, and the Divine Mother."
Sophie again flashed on the ritual in the basement.
"According to the Priory," Teabing continued, "Mary Magdalene was pregnant at the time
of the crucifixion. For the safety of Christ's unborn child, she had no choice but to flee the Holy
Land. With the help of Jesus' trusted uncle, Joseph of Arimathea, Mary Magdalene secretly
traveled to France, then known as Gaul. There she found safe refuge in the Jewish community. It
was here in France that she gave birth to a daughter. Her name was Sarah."
Sophie glanced up. "They actually know the child's name?"
"Far more than that. Magdalene's and Sarah's lives were scrutinously chronicled by their
Jewish protectors. Remember that Magdalene's child belonged to the lineage of Jewish kings—
David and Solomon. For this reason, the Jews in France considered Magdalene sacred royalty
and revered her as the progenitor of the royal line of kings. Countless scholars of that era
chronicled Mary Magdalene's days in France, including the birth of Sarah and the subsequent
family tree."
Sophie was startled. "There exists afamily tree of Jesus Christ?"
"Indeed. And it is purportedly one of the cornerstones of the Sangreal documents. A
complete genealogy of the early descendants of Christ."
"But what good is a documented genealogy of Christ's bloodline?" Sophie asked. "It's not
proof. Historians could not possibly confirm its authenticity."
Teabing chuckled. "No more so than they can confirm the authenticity of the Bible."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning that history is always written by the winners. When two cultures clash, the loser
is obliterated, and the winner writes the history books— books which glorify their own cause and
disparage the conquered foe. As Napoleon once said, 'What is history, but a fable agreed upon?'
" He smiled. "By its very nature, history is always a one-sided account."
Sophie had never thought of it that way.
"The Sangreal documents simply tell the other side of the Christ story. In the end, which
side of the story you believe becomes a matter of faith and personal exploration, but at least the
information has survived. The Sangreal documents include tens of thousands of pages of
information. Eyewitness accounts of the Sangreal treasure describe it as being carried in four
enormous trunks. In those trunks are reputed to be the Purist Documents— thousands of pages of
unaltered, pre-Constantine documents, written by the early followers of Jesus, revering Him as a
wholly human teacher and prophet. Also rumored to be part of the treasure is the legendary "Q"
Document— a manuscript that even the Vatican admits they believe exists. Allegedly, it is a book
of Jesus' teachings, possibly written in His own hand."
"Writings by Christ Himself?"
"Of course," Teabing said. "Why wouldn't Jesus have kept a chronicle of His ministry?
Most people did in those days. Another explosive document believed to be in the treasure is a
manuscript called The Magdalene Diaries— Mary Magdalene's personal account of her
relationship with Christ, His crucifixion, and her time in France."
Sophie was silent for a long moment. "And these four chests of documents were the
treasure that the Knights Templar found under Solomon's Temple?"
"Exactly. The documents that made the Knights so powerful. The documents that have been
the object of countless Grail quests throughout history."
"But you said the Holy Grail was Mary Magdalene. If people are searching for documents,
why would you call it a search for the Holy Grail?"
Teabing eyed her, his expression softening. "Because the hiding place of the Holy Grail
includes a sarcophagus."
Outside, the wind howled in the trees.
Teabing spoke more quietly now. "The quest for the Holy Grail is literally the quest to
kneel before the bones of Mary Magdalene. A journey to pray at the feet of the outcast one, the
lost sacred feminine."
Sophie felt an unexpected wonder. "The hiding place of the Holy Grail is actually... a
tomb?"
Teabing's hazel eyes got misty. "It is. A tomb containing the body of Mary Magdalene and
the documents that tell the true story of her life. At its heart, the quest for the Holy Grail has
always been a quest for the Magdalene— the wronged Queen, entombed with proof of her
family's rightful claim to power."
Sophie waited a moment as Teabing gathered himself. So much about her grandfather was
still not making sense. "Members of the Priory," she finally said, "all these years have answered
the charge of protecting the Sangreal documents and the tomb of Mary Magdalene?"
"Yes, but the brotherhood had another, more important duty as well— to protect the
bloodline itself. Christ's lineage was in perpetual danger. The early Church feared that if the
lineage were permitted to grow, the secret of Jesus and Magdalene would eventually surface and
challenge the fundamental Catholic doctrine— that of a divine Messiah who did not consort with
women or engage in sexual union." He paused. "Nonetheless, Christ's line grew quietly under
cover in France until making a bold move in the fifth century, when it intermarried with French
royal blood and created a lineage known as the Merovingian bloodline."
This news surprised Sophie. Merovingian was a term learned by every student in France.
"The Merovingians founded Paris."
"Yes. That's one of the reasons the Grail legend is so rich in France. Many of the Vatican's
Grail quests here were in fact stealth missions to erase members of the royal bloodline. Have you
heard of King Dagobert?"
Sophie vaguely recalled the name from a grisly tale in history class. "Dagobert was a
Merovingian king, wasn't he? Stabbed in the eye while sleeping?"
"Exactly. Assassinated by the Vatican in collusion with Pepin d'Heristal. Late seventh
century. With Dagobert's murder, the Merovingian bloodline was almost exterminated.
Fortunately, Dagobert's son, Sigisbert, secretly escaped the attack and carried on the lineage,
which later included Godefroi de Bouillon— founder of the Priory of Sion."
"The same man," Langdon said, "who ordered the Knights Templar to recover the Sangreal
documents from beneath Solomon's Temple and thus provide the Merovingians proof of their
hereditary ties to Jesus Christ."
Teabing nodded, heaving a ponderous sigh. "The modern Priory of Sion has a momentous
duty. Theirs is a threefold charge. The brotherhood must protect the Sangreal documents. They
must protect the tomb of Mary Magdalene. And, of course, they must nurture and protect the
bloodline of Christ— those few members of the royal Merovingian bloodline who have survived
into modern times."
The words hung in the huge space, and Sophie felt an odd vibration, as if her bones were
reverberating with some new kind of truth. Descendants of Jesus who survived into modern
times. Her grandfather's voice again was whispering in her ear. Princess, I must tell you the truth
about your family.
A chill raked her flesh.
Royal blood.
She could not imagine.
Princess Sophie.
"Sir Leigh?" The manservant's words crackled through the intercom on the wall, and Sophie
jumped. "If you could join me in the kitchen a moment?"
Teabing scowled at the ill-timed intrusion. He went over to the intercom and pressed the
button. "Rémy, as you know, I am busy with my guests. If we need anything else from the
kitchen tonight, we will help ourselves. Thank you and good night."
"A word with you before I retire, sir. If you would."
Teabing grunted and pressed the button. "Make it quick, Rémy."
"It is a household matter, sir, hardly fare for guests to endure."
Teabing looked incredulous. "And it cannot wait until morning?"
"No, sir. My question won't take a minute."
Teabing rolled his eyes and looked at Langdon and Sophie. "Sometimes I wonder who is
serving whom?" He pressed the button again. "I'll be right there, Rémy. Can I bring you anything
when I come?"
"Only freedom from oppression, sir."
"Rémy, you realize your steak au poivre is the only reason you still work for me."
"So you tell me, sir. So you tell me."
CHAPTER 61
Princess Sophie.
Sophie felt hollow as she listened to the clicking of Teabing's crutches fade down the
hallway. Numb, she turned and faced Langdon in the deserted ballroom. He was already shaking
his head as if reading her mind.
"No, Sophie," he whispered, his eyes reassuring. "The same thought crossed my mind when
I realized your grandfather was in the Priory, and you said he wanted to tell you a secret about
your family. But it's impossible." Langdon paused. "Saunière is not a Merovingian name."
Sophie wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or disappointed. Earlier, Langdon had asked an
unusual passing question about Sophie's mother's maiden name. Chauvel. The question now
made sense. "And Chauvel?" she asked, anxious.
Again he shook his head. "I'm sorry. I know that would have answered some questions for
you. Only two direct lines of Merovingians remain. Their family names are Plantard and Saint-
Clair. Both families live in hiding, probably protected by the Priory."
Sophie repeated the names silently in her mind and then shook her head. There was no one
in her family named Plantard or Saint-Clair. A weary undertow was pulling at her now. She
realized she was no closer than she had been at the Louvre to understanding what truth her
grandfather had wanted to reveal to her. Sophie wished her grandfather had never mentioned her
family this afternoon. He had torn open old wounds that felt as painful now as ever. They are
dead, Sophie. They are not coming back. She thought of her mother singing her to sleep at night,
of her father giving her rides on his shoulders, and of her grandmother and younger brother
smiling at her with their fervent green eyes. All that was stolen. And all she had left was her
grandfather.
And now he is gone too. I am alone.
Sophie turned quietly back to The Last Supper and gazed at Mary Magdalene's long red hair
and quiet eyes. There was something in the woman's expression that echoed the loss of a loved
one. Sophie could feel it too.
"Robert?" she said softly.
He stepped closer.
"I know Leigh said the Grail story is all around us, but tonight is the first time I've ever
heard any of this."
Langdon looked as if he wanted to put a comforting hand on her shoulder, but he refrained.
"You've heard her story before, Sophie. Everyone has. We just don't realize it when we hear it."
"I don't understand."
"The Grail story is everywhere, but it is hidden. When the Church outlawed speaking of the
shunned Mary Magdalene, her story and importance had to be passed on through more discreet
channels... channels that supported metaphor and symbolism."
"Of course. The arts."
Langdon motioned to The Last Supper. "A perfect example. Some of today's most enduring
art, literature, and music secretly tell the history of Mary Magdalene and Jesus."
Langdon quickly told her about works by Da Vinci, Botticelli, Poussin, Bernini, Mozart,
and Victor Hugo that all whispered of the quest to restore the banished sacred feminine.
Enduring legends like Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, King Arthur, and Sleeping Beauty
