The Book of Love (32 page)

Ultimately, the bloody nature of the Saxon rebellion in Henry’s own territories forced Germany to seek a humiliating reconciliation with Rome. Henry’s resources were depleted, and he had stretched his loyal nobles, including Godfrey, to their limits. In November of 1073, Henry took an oath of allegiance to Pope Gregory VII before an audience that included papal legates, in the city of Nuremberg. He apologized for his disobedience and swore to participate in the reforms of the Church as dictated by the pope from that day forward. While Gregory was hopeful that this truce would hold, he was too wise and experienced in Henry’s ways to believe that this oath was not taken with the king’s fingers crossed. It was lip service, but it had been a very public display which would at the very least force Henry’s submission for a period of public decorum. As a result of the king’s newfound loyalty to the pope, Godfrey too was forced to reduce his aggression. He left Matilda alone and focused on his own lands in Lorraine and the north.

After months of silence, the pope began to write to Matilda very suddenly and without cessation. The Tuscan countess and Pope Gregory VII engaged in frequent correspondence for the following six months. Their affection for each other was increasing, deepening despite the distance that separated them, or perhaps because of it. As such letters were by nature public, they were written in careful language, and yet both contained effusive sentiments of adoration within their proprietary cover. Matilda referred often to her “great and undying love for Saint Peter” and Gregory expressed his own heart to her in even more emphatic terms. He addressed his letters to her as “My daughter in Christ” but his expressions on paper, containing phrases such as “you must know the love I bear for you” were beyond the boundaries
of the filial. Ultimately, he nearly begged her to return to him in Rome with a letter that read:

In answer to his plea, Matilda traveled to a private villa in Fiano, outside Rome. She was as anxious as he to have “further interviews.” Beatrice accompanied her, as did Isobel, to play the role of chaperones for any and all who might find impropriety otherwise in such a private meeting place, away from the intense scrutiny of the papal court in Rome, away from all but the most intimate and trusted members of their mutual inner circles.

The chambers Gregory had prepared for their interviews were magnificent. Opulently furnished and dripping with rich fabrics from the Orient, the rooms were worthy of the reunion of King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba. It was a clever and intentional piece of seduction. For while he was not thoroughly informed in the ways of Matilda’s beloved Order, he was well aware that its followers believed all teachings began with the exotic king and queen of scripture and their legendary union.

Matilda was equally prepared for her role in the great pageant. Isobel, who was still a master at such presentation, spent hours dressing her until she was a vision of alluring, feminine mystery. The countess arrived in the pope’s private chambers swathed in layers of turquoise silk over a deeply cut and jeweled bodice of Turkish damask. Gossamer veils covered her décolletage as well as her hair, giving the illusion of propriety but woven of a material so sheer as to be nearly nonexistent. Her rich copper tresses had been brushed to a high shine beneath the diaphanous veil and were completely unbound, which would have been scandalous in public. Aquamarines and pearls were woven on
strands through the soft curls, while matching jewels hung from her ears. For the first time in her life, Matilda’s skin was most thoroughly perfumed and oiled with an attar of roses mixed with frankincense, myrrh, and spikenard from the Holy Land. This costly and sacred preparation had been used since ancient times in accordance with the Song of Songs, to anoint the bride in anticipation of the
hieros-gamos
, the sacred marriage of true beloveds.

Gregory was speechless as she entered. His memory of this woman had haunted him to distraction for a year, and yet when confronted with her again, he realized that his mind had not done her justice. He kissed her hand, and she his ring, but otherwise they maintained an appropriate distance as they sat on cushioned benches, facing each other.

She began, as he knew she would, with the legend of Solomon and Sheba. There was no better place, for this was the beginning of the teachings regarding sacred union.

Gregory was certainly familiar with the passages in the First Book of Kings, chapter ten, that described Sheba’s coming to Jerusalem. But the extended version as it was taught by the Order both astounded and fascinated him. The applications to their own situation—two great leaders of opposing gender coming together in a meeting of minds and spirits—were unavoidable.

He decided to challenge her immediately, to see how she would defend this cornerstone of their teachings. “Whence does this version of their story come? Surely, nothing in the scriptures indicates that Solomon and Sheba develop such a relationship.”

Matilda had studied this material all her life, was committed to it, and knew it as well as any official teacher in the Order. Her answer was instantaneous.

“First Kings ten, verses two and three: ‘And when she had come to Solomon, she communed all that was in her heart. And Solomon answered all her questions. There was not
anything
hid from the king, which he told her not.’ The word
anything
is emphasized there in the scripture. This indicates that Solomon, despite the fact that he is the
wisest and most important king in the world, hides nothing from this woman. It is an indication of deep intimacy, as is the language that she communes ‘all that is in her heart.’ No queen on a strictly political mission opens her heart to such a powerful man. Again, it implies a depth of intimacy and, I believe, passion.”

The correlations hung heavy in the air between them, but they were both enjoying the titillating nature of the game far too much to approach it in any direct manner as yet.

“Perhaps. But it does not give us such a complete biography as you claim to have.”

“Their story is preserved as such in the Libro Rosso, as the traditions of our people were passed down and transcribed. But there are also references to the coming together of Solomon and Sheba in the Book of Love, which we have in the hand of the apostle Philip himself.”

“But it is not proof.”

“I would not venture to lecture the pontiff himself on the essence of faith. But I will say that with all matters of spirit, the only proof is in our hearts. No ink or paper can provide truth. Only our hearts can tell us if what is on that page, whether it is your Bible or my Book, is the truth. And each man or woman must come to that choice of his or her own faith.”

He conceded to her eloquence. “I will look forward to seeing this holy book and perhaps gaining a greater understanding of how it has come to give you such extraordinary faith.”

“And I will look forward to showing it to you. You must make your way to Lucca in the near future, as your time permits, and perhaps we will have the opportunity to explore the Libro Rosso together.”

She took him then through the Old Testament version of the Song of Songs, again giving it a new interpretation—which was in essence the oldest interpretation—through the eyes of the Order, via their holy book. That such an overtly erotic piece of poetry was an accepted and exalted piece of scripture was something that was often overlooked in biblical studies, even in an education as thorough as Gregory’s. Church
leaders emphasized the idea that the Song of Songs, allegedly written by Solomon, then transcribed again in the fifth century BC, was an allegory for the love of God for the people and his Church. Matilda claimed it as the ultimate proof that Solomon and Sheba were the prototype lovers for sacred union and as an epic poem containing the greatest mysteries of love within it, written originally by Solomon with Sheba as his muse. In fact, she pointed out, the complete first line of this segment of the Bible reads “The Song of Songs, which is Solomon’s.”

Gregory presented the traditional arguments against the Song as a paean to erotic love, insisting that the Church could only take the position that it was sacred poetry about God’s love for the Church and its children, and only God’s love. Matilda parried once again, as skillfully as any learned cleric he had ever met.

“Why does it have to be one or the other? The problem with many scriptural interpretations that are accepted by the Church is that they are narrowly exclusive. Either the Song of Songs is about God’s love and a love of the Church, which is divine, or it is about human love, which is therefore profane. But this is not what Jesus tells us in the Book of Love. He tells us that both are true, and must be. That it is through our love together as humans that we find God. God is present in the bridal chamber when true beloveds are united. It is this essence that is found completely in the very first verse. ‘How right it is to love you.’ This is what the beloveds say when they find God as they come together. Why cannot such a thing be true when it is so beautiful?”

“Tell me then, Matilda. Did you find God in the bridal chamber?”

She was shocked into silence for a moment when Gregory shifted the direction of his questioning to make the inquiry so highly personal. He had never ventured into such territory before. She responded the only way she knew how. With honesty.

“I was forced into marriage with a man who was not and could never be my beloved. He could not even be my friend. Such is the bane of many women, never to know true love and to subsequently be denied this particular path to feeling and understanding God. I believe
that such forced marriages are a high human crime against the teachings of love. There was never, at any time, trust or consciousness in my marital bed. And the teachings insist that both must be present for a union to be sacred. So the answer to your question is no, I have not found God in the bridal chamber.”

He was watching her closely, testing her now, and she knew it. “So you have a conundrum, do you not? You have never known such union, and yet it is the ultimate sacrament of your people. You are not spiritually whole without this understanding of union, are you? But to search for such an experience outside matrimony is adultery, and a cardinal sin. How do you reconcile that in your spiritual well-being?”

She was ready for the question, had thought about this concept many, many times. “Adultery, as you define it, is a cardinal sin within the Catholic Church, that is true. But adultery is defined differently in the Book of Love. Our scripture states that any embrace that is against the will of another, or that otherwise violates the spirit of trust and consciousness, is adulterous. Therefore most arranged marriages, where women are forced to provide their bodies against their will, constitute real adultery. And yet they are sanctioned by the Church as well as by man-made laws.

“How can true love ever be adultery, if love is the greatest gift given us by our benevolent father in heaven? Solomon and Sheba were not married to each other, indeed he was married to others, and yet they have never been called adulterers. That is because their love was a higher law. How is it possible that two souls, joined by God in heaven at the dawn of eternity, could ever commit a sin by reuniting in the flesh on earth? Remember this: what God has joined together, let no man separate. I say to you that the law of love will always defy the law of man when and if it must. And that every time Godfrey touched me, that was adultery, despite the laws of man and the Church that claim him as my husband.

“But to embrace the other half of my soul, to merge with him completely through the joining of our bodies as an expression of pure union…this is a sacrament without sin, and I would stand by that in the face of God on the day of judgment.”

She held his eyes with her own. When neither could find their voice in the immediate aftermath of such a speech, it was Matilda who continued, finding a safer place—if only momentarily—within continued scriptural discussion.

“The Song of Songs contains within it the teachings of the six aspects for expressing love, which Jesus later emphasizes individually in his gospel,
our
most holy scripture.” She raised her chin with a touch of hauteur when she used the possessive pronoun. “And one of these aspects is Eros, which is intense and beautiful physical expression. Sacred union.”

Gregory responded to the mental challenge with some degree of relief, back on level ground. “But you are making an assumption once again that the verses have intimate, physical connotations. The scholarly interpretations do not say so. They are adamant that this song is not about erotic love.”

Matilda began to reply but held back for a moment. When she did respond, it was to lean forward, causing waves of soft copper hair to fall becomingly over her porcelain skin. Her blue-green eyes sparked as she began to recite from the Song of Songs, never once breaking eye contact as she intoned in a throaty whisper:

In the boldest move of a life defined by daring, she rose from her own bench and closed the distance between them. She came before him, kneeling at his feet, and continued to recite, slow and tortuous, as she gazed up at him. With slow, careful fingers, she removed the veils that covered her hair as she continued to hold his eyes.

The next veils to be removed, carefully, gracefully, were those that covered her full breasts. They floated to the floor, leaving her creamy flesh and delicate rose-colored nipples exposed to his gaze. He watched her, immobilized, as the poetry dripped from her lips and she leaned forward to graze his thighs lightly with her fingertips.