The Four Legendary Kingdoms by Matthew Reilly
‘Sure,’ Pooh Bear said.
‘My postulation,’ Mae said, ‘is that our gods of old—from Zeus to Poseidon, to Anubis and Isis—were all royal beneficiaries of the superancient civilisation that built the Machine. They were all members of a few high families who exist today as the four legendary kingdoms. The question of who or what is God is inextricably linked to the four kingdoms that rule our world from the shadows.’
Again she saw the confused looks on Pooh and Stretch’s faces.
‘Okay, maybe I should backtrack a little,’ Mae said. ‘Think about everything you learned in history class at high school. All of that is wrong. History as you know it is not correct. What you need to know is the secret history of the world.’
Mae took a breath. ‘The four legendary kingdoms have been amazingly successful at concealing their existence. Only a select few people know of their presence and power. If you look at a map of the world, you will see the borders of countries and nation-states; you will not see the invisible borders of the four ancient realms.
‘But they are there. They most assuredly do exist. And these kingdoms have been affecting the course of human history since it began.
‘They are the real rulers of the world. The kings of kings. The overlords of the world’s monarchies.’
‘Like the Deus Rex?’ Stretch asked.
‘I could never prove it, but I always thought the Deus Rex were one of the four kingdoms, yes. The one called the Kingdom of Land,’ Mae said.
‘The four secret kingdoms are known as the Kingdoms of Land, Sea, Sky and Underworld. Here, these are my old notes.’ Mae grabbed an old notebook from a shelf and leafed to a dog-eared page. ‘This will explain it better.’
On the page were two maps of the world. The first was a regular map showing the usual national boundaries:
‘This is your standard map of the world,’ Mae said. ‘You’ve seen it a million times. This is what people think is reality. Now look at this map.’
‘This is reality,’ Mae said. ‘This is how the world is really governed.’
Pooh Bear scanned the map closely. On it, the world was divided by hand-drawn lines into four regions.
The Kingdom of Sea was easily the largest of the four and it incorporated the Americas, Greenland, Japan and all the world’s oceans.
The Kingdom of Land was the next largest and, even at a glance, clearly the biggest according to pure land holdings: it covered a vast landmass that encapsulated Europe, Russia, Africa, the Middle East and Australia.
The Kingdom of Sky was basically China and the nations of the Himalayas plus some of Southeast Asia.
And lastly, there was the realm labelled ‘Hades’, the Underworld. It was by far the smallest of the four kingdoms and it was essentially India.
‘Hades?’ Stretch raised an eyebrow. ‘The ancient Greek god? The Lord of the Underworld? Are you saying that he’s alive today?’
‘The name Hades is merely a title that is passed on to each successive King of the Underworld. So yes, there is a man today, probably a very wealthy man living day-to-day by another name, who in royal circles is known as Lord Hades, King of the Underworld.
‘Remember, Stretch, there are no gods, only people,’ Mae said. ‘This is the answer to my lifelong question: there are no gods. Every ancient god or hero was once a person, perhaps a powerful person, perhaps a famous person, but a person nonetheless. Zeus, Perseus, Athena, Hercules, they were all just people once. This is not a new theory. The Greek philosopher Euhemerus espoused it three hundred years before Christ.’
She tapped the second map.
‘These people, these four kings, are the secret rulers of the world. Occasionally, so great do they become, their names emerge from the shadows and enter the popular consciousness: Khufu, Rameses, Agamemnon, Constantine, Charlemagne. But this is rare.
‘In their capacity as rulers, the four eternal kingdoms are stewards of advanced ancient knowledge, much of it astronomical, much of it written in the Word of Thoth in manuscripts that date back to the dawn of civilised man.’
Mae held up a finger.
‘The source of this advanced ancient knowledge is another part of the answer to my lifelong question: if there was a prior advanced civilisation on this planet or if aliens visited the Earth, would they qualify as gods?’
Pooh looked at Stretch. Stretch looked at Pooh.
Mae went on: ‘The four kingdoms are the hidden hand that directs human history: every great war and famine, every revolution, migration and depression, has been their doing.
‘The four royal houses know that man must advance. They also know that wealth and glory inspire men to advance and so they allow men to acquire riches and power. To a point. For when some men rise too high—fly too close to the sun, if you will—the four kings ruthlessly cut them down.
‘History takes on an entirely different character when viewed through this lens. Take, for instance, Louis XIV of France, the famous Sun King. Wealthy beyond imagining, he was one of these ancient kings, the King of Land. But his spoilt grandson, Louis XVI, was not half the man his grandfather was and he was passed over for the ancient crown. When Louis XVI dared to challenge this decision, the French Revolution was initiated and young Louis lost his head.
‘The First World War: it was a squabble between some minor royal families. The Second World War was an alliance of all the royal households to quash a pair of troublesome nations, Germany and Japan.
‘On three occasions, in 1929, 1987 and 2008, when the capitalist class rose too high too quickly and proclaimed themselves gods, the four kings promptly reminded them of their place.
‘Presidents, prime ministers, nation-states, they are merely passing through. The royal houses use democracy as a tool to keep populations satisfied. Individuals rise, some even proclaim themselves “kings” or “sultans” but their wealth is nothing compared to that of the four kingdoms.
‘Occasionally, to keep their bloodlines healthy and their minds fresh, the kingdoms will invite talented individuals into their secret aristocracy via strategic marriages.
‘And over the last five thousand years, these royal households have been advised by the men—always men—of the Invisible College: advisors of surpassing wisdom, initiates in the wisdom of the “Ancients”, the mysterious advanced civilisation that built the Great Pyramid and the Machine that Jack re-erected.
‘Like the rulers they serve, sometimes the names of these advisors have entered the popular consciousness, too: men like Imhotep, Merlin, Richelieu and Rasputin.’
‘And Newton,’ Pooh Bear said.
‘And Newton,’ Mae agreed. ‘The Catholic Church, as a repository of much ancient knowledge throughout the Dark Ages and as the modern embodiment of the sun-cult of Amon-Ra, has many such initiates within its ranks. And as you know, it advises the Deus Rex.’
Pooh Bear held up his hands.
‘Okay, okay, fine. There’s a great big conspiracy of royal assholes ruling the world. How does all this help us find Jack?’
‘Jack drew this tetra-gammadion symbol after visiting an advanced astronomical observatory,’ Mae said. ‘And then he was kidnapped by Iolanthe Compton-Jones, a member of one of the four legendary kingdoms. There are no coincidences when it comes to the kingdoms. They act in strict accordance with ancient laws and rituals.
‘Something is going on, something to do with the Hydra Galaxy. Newton knew of that galaxy and he wrote his thoughts down in this book, The Chronology of Ancient Kingdoms. We need to find something in here or in his other work that can lead us to Jack.’
‘Now that’s what I’m talking about,’ Pooh Bear said. ‘Ma’am, if you don’t mind me saying so, you’re pretty kick-ass.’
‘You have no idea.’ Mae Merriweather gave him an impish grin. ‘Oh, by the way, how is Horus doing? I like that bird.’
‘She won’t be f
‘Good,’ Mae said. ‘Now, let’s get to work.’
The Underworld
Location unknown, somewhere in India
After the Third Challenge concluded, Iolanthe took Lily by the hand and led her off the royal viewing balcony.
‘Come with me, darling,’ she said. ‘Tonight Lord Hades will be hosting the opening banquet and you simply must attend.’
Iolanthe guided Lily to her own royal quarters.
Lily still had no idea where they were, or even if this ‘Underworld’ was above ground or below it.
But as she followed Iolanthe, she made a point of noting every detail. If she was going to help Jack, she needed to learn as much as she could about this place.
The royal balcony from which she had watched the Third Challenge seemed to be attached to a mountain of some sort.
From that balcony, Iolanthe had guided her back into the mountain, through a series of raw stone tunnels to a modern elevator hewn into the core of the peak. They went up.
The elevator opened onto another raw stone corridor, only this one was lined with plush carpet. Soft light issued from lamps on the grey walls. It looked like a stone-walled boutique hotel.
Iolanthe’s quarters were sumptuously appointed—a broad room with a high bed, walk-in closet and a marble bathroom.
A pretty young woman of perhaps twenty-five stood waiting for Iolanthe. She had brown hair and pale white skin.
‘Ah, Chloe,’ Iolanthe said. ‘Be a dear and fetch my red ball gown. And my jewellery box, GHD and make-up kit, too. We have some work to do on Eliza Doolittle here.’
‘At once, m’lady.’ The young woman named Chloe scurried away.
A single window offered a striking view: it looked out at a gigantic stone wall lit up by floodlights. The wall was about two hundred metres away and it was shot through with a maze-like pattern of horizontal ledges and vertical chutes.
At the top of the wall, stretching upward, there seemed to be some kind of camouflage netting. Beyond the netting was black darkness.
Lily wasn’t sure but she got the feeling that whatever this mountain was, it was nestled in a crater of some kind.
Iolanthe looked her up and down, and shook her head disapprovingly. ‘You cannot attend a royal dinner wearing that.’
Lily was still dressed in the casual clothes she’d worn to Pine Gap: hipster jeans, strappy sandals and a pink Zanerobe hoodie. She frowned. She liked her jeans. They were very fashionable and had cost her a fortune.
Chloe re-emerged from Iolanthe’s dressing area with a red dress and a pair of high-heeled shoes.
Iolanthe was sizing Lily up, assessing her figure. ‘My, how you’ve grown. We’re almost exactly the same size, you and me. Like sisters! Here, put this gown on.’
Lily took the dress with a dark frown.
Her brain was trying to reconcile what she was hearing now with what she had seen: here was Iolanthe speaking ever-so-casually about banquets and ball gowns when men like her father had been fighting desperately for their lives.
‘How can you think about stuff like this when people outside are dying?’ she asked.
Iolanthe cocked her head to the side. ‘Darling. Child. This is the way things are. This is the way they’ve always been. For thousands of years. Trust me, you are not going to stop these Games. Now be a dear and put on that lovely dress.’
Despite herself Lily did so.
Iolanthe smiled. ‘Now sit and let Chloe do your hair and make-up. She’s an absolute magician.’
Lily sat, facing the only mirror in the room, allowing Chloe to do her thing.
Looking at herself in the mirror, Lily thought that she had grown a lot over the past eight years. She was no longer a gangly little girl with big brown eyes and olive skin who added pink tips to her hair and who wore sparkly roller sneakers.
She was a woman now. Twenty years old, slim and—she liked to think—attractive. She had grown into her features: her brown eyes and olive skin were radiant, a testament to her Egyptian ancestry. In cafes near Stanford, guys often came over and spontaneously asked her out. While she didn’t get glammed up often, she knew she looked good in a skirt and heels.
‘You have great shoulders,’ Iolanthe said, draping a diamond necklace over Lily’s throat before nudging the ball gown’s straps off her shoulders. ‘Never cover those shoulders up. They’ll drive men wild. My God, you’re gorgeous.’
Lily stood and saw herself fully in the mirror.
The woman looking back at her surprised her.
The dress, so red and figure-hugging and so plunging at the neckline—the diamonds, so bright and sparkling—her hair, demure yet youthful. And the make-up; it was restrained and minimalist yet it artfully drew attention to her best feature: her big almond eyes. Lily had never seen herself looking so refined.
‘Yes,’ Iolanthe said. ‘That will do nicely. This debut has been a long time coming. It is time, my dear, to present you to royalty.’
Lily was ushered into a glorious dining hall.
Four colossal stone pillars—each carved in the shape of a vine-entangled tree—held up an intricately carved ceiling eighty feet above the floor. Dominating the main wall were four large shields, each of a slightly different shape, bearing unusual images and Latin mottos:
‘The coats of arms of the four kingdoms,’ Iolanthe said, seeing Lily’s gaze. ‘Land, Sea, Sky and Underworld.’
Standing proudly in the centre of the dining hall was a huge marble statue of a muscular Greek hero wrestling a minotaur. It was colossal; each figure must have been ten feet tall. The hero had a thick wooden club hanging from his belt.
‘Hercules and the Cretan bull,’ Lily whispered. ‘His Seventh Labour.’
‘Well spotted,’ Iolanthe said. ‘Most people think it is Theseus, not Hercules. How could you tell it was Hercules?’
‘The club on his belt,’ Lily said, pointing at the statue. ‘In the Greek myths, Hercules was famous for carrying a big club.’
The dining hall was filled with the royal spectators who had been watching the Games.
There were about thirty of them and they were all dressed in formal evening attire: tailored tuxedos for the gentlemen, ball gowns for the ladies, plus necklaces and earrings glittering with diamonds.
They sipped cocktails while a string quartet played chamber music.
A pint-sized jester in a red devil’s suit and a red-painted face bounced and capered among the crowd, performing magic tricks for them.
As Lily entered the hall in her stunning red ball gown, all conversation stopped. Even the jester froze in mid-leap to gawk at her.
Lily hunched her shoulders, feeling instantly self-conscious.
‘Is it the dress?’ she whispered to Iolanthe.
Iolanthe smiled knowingly. ‘It’s not the dress, darling. It’s you. In this world of ancient kings and pure lineages, you’re the most eligible young woman on the planet.’
Thankfully, the moment was broken and general conversation resumed and Lily took the opportunity to look at the four shields on the main wall.
Coats of arms, she knew, were designed to tell a story. Every little detail had meaning, be it the crest or the image on the escutcheon itself.
The first one, the coat of arms for Land, featured a crown atop it and had a picture of three pyramids.
Lily figured they represented the pyramids at Giza in Egypt, because the largest one, presumably the Great Pyramid, was being struck by a beam of light from above. Lily had seen this very image before: during the Tartarus Event that had required Jack, her and their ragtag team to find the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World.
She read the motto: Ad Majora Regis Gloriam.
‘“For the greater glory of the king”,’ she translated aloud.
Lily gazed at the second shield: Sea.
Surmounted by a trident, it depicted an ancient city on water; the city featured a pyramid, a domed building, two obelisks and a lighthouse-like structure, all silhouetted by the blazing sun.
Its motto, A Magnitudine, Vires translated as From size, strength.
‘Nice trident,’ Lily said.
‘A great Sea King of old wielded it in battle many centuries ago, giving rise to the myth of King Neptune and his trident.’
Lily looked at the third coat of arms: Sky.
It depicted a mountain landscape: three mountains, the largest and darkest of which was topped by a bright star that was itself ringed by the sun.
This shield, Lily saw, was the only one to have no sharp edges. All of its corners and points were rounded off into gentle curves.
‘Why doesn’t that one have any sharp corners?’ Lily asked.
‘The Sky Kingdom is the most spiritual of the four legendary kingdoms. A keeper of ancient knowledge and rituals, it prides itself on not being hostile. The gentle corners of its royal shield are designed as an expression of its peaceful nature.’
‘Potestatem ex Alto,’ Lily read. ‘That means “Power from above”. That’s not exactly peaceful. Nor are these Games.’
‘Not all power is physical,’ Iolanthe replied. ‘And even those who preach peace must sometimes stand and fight.’
Lily turned her gaze to the final shield, the coat of arms of Hades’s kingdom, the Underworld.
Alone among the shields, it did not depict the sun. It was decidedly dark and grim.
Also, instead of a stylised crest sitting above the shield, it bore two horns, like those of a bull. The image on the shield was of a forbidding mountain with ramparts and towers on it. Looming behind the grim mount, instead of the sun, were the curving tentacle-like arms of what she guessed was the Hydra Galaxy.