Genges banished the thought. No, his brother was a great leader, and his position was deserved, but if his father had known of the illness that now hung around Balthasar’s neck like a heavy weight, he might have chosen differently. Balthasar’s blood disorder had continued to ravage his body during the three years since being originally diagnosed, but it wasn’t until the last few months that his physical symptoms had truly begun to show. The sores and welts that now covered his body must be painful but relatively easy to conceal. Other symptoms, however, were more difficult to keep secret such as nosebleeds, stiffening of the joints, and extreme fatigue. But the most difficult to conceal were the droplets of blood that formed in his tear ducts as small capillaries in his eyelids ruptured. Most of the men knew that their master had medical issues, but it was not something to be openly discussed ever.
Genges glanced down at the fish-shaped silver brooch fastened to his lapel and smiled. In recent years, it had been hijacked by funky new-age Christians, but for the previous two millennia, it had been, and still was, the symbol of the Magi. Damn hippies with their sacrilegious pretensions to Catholicism, what a joke! He thumbed at the badge with the small emblem of a sword underneath it, which signified his position in the hierarchy.
As head of the Magi’s diplomatic division, he was directly responsible for the enforcement of its will, whether it require a peaceful resolution or a violent one. The role gave him certain freedoms within the administration, which, in turn, provided him the sense of power he so much craved. Genges bit his lip at the thought: he had been telling himself exactly that since Balthasar had been chosen to lead the clan five years ago as a result of father’s dying wish. It was a tradition which passed from father to eldest son, thus ensuring that the family line survived. In truth, to himself anyway, he still attempted to justify his contentment with his own role and that he felt satisfied about the real power being passed to his elder sibling. Anyway, in just a few more hours, the goal which had steered the Magi over the past forty years would finally come to fruition, and with it would result a new world and – just as importantly – more power.
The heavy thud at the door broke the silence, much to Genges’s relief.
‘Enter,’ called out Balthasar, throwing his younger brother an inquisitive look. ‘Some good news maybe?’
Marko Lupis burst into the room, the eighteen-year-old Magi associate’s face flushed with excitement. ‘My Lord, we’ve received word from one of our contacts. The professor was taken to an estate just outside Rome. It seems the British consulate wasn’t involved, after all.’
The long pause that followed only served to increase the exhilaration emanating from the messenger, who was clearly thrilled by the news he brought.
‘C’mon, Lupis, spit it out,’ Genges snapped, becoming impatient.
The young associate immediately composed himself, the flush in his cheeks draining away, and he snapped to attention as a soldier does. ‘Yes, sir, but it’s just you’re not going to believe who has him now.’
It was Balthasar’s turn to air his annoyance. ‘Are you asking me or telling me, boy?’
Lupis shook his head forcefully, his long black hair lashing against his cheek. ‘It’s the Templars, sir. The professor, as of this moment, is in the company of Sebastian Brulet.’
The name shattered the expectant atmosphere like a blow from a sledgehammer. The Magi lord’s mouth dropped open, his eyes widening like those of a maniac. ‘Genges, assemble your team immediately, and get them geared up for a full-frontal assault on Brulet’s hideaway. I want a total breach. Recover Harker and the item and then bring them straight here to me.’
Genges was already out of his seat and heading towards the door, iPhone in hand, when Balthasar’s voice stopped him dead in his tracks.
‘And Genges …’
He turned around to face the piercing gaze of his brother.
‘Leave no Templar alive.’
Genges put the mobile phone to his ear, waiting for the call to connect. ‘And what about Brulet?’
Lord Balthasar clenched both fists, the tensing of his muscles making both arms quiver. ‘Before you kill him, make him suffer.’
Chapter 19
‘So you’re saying the Templars and the Magi aren’t that dissimilar then, in that they both serve Christ?’ Harker suggested as he dabbed a fresh napkin against his still damp thigh, where Lusic had clumsily spilt coffee on him moments earlier.
‘Yes, in a way. They are the yin to our yang, opposite sides of the same coin, but that is where the similarities end.’
Harker was riveted, if not a little confused, by the point being made, and Brulet sensed this immediately.
‘To truly understand the relationship between the Templars and the Magi, you must look back to the very beginnings of the Catholic Church and the last wish of the emperor who instigated it all.’
‘Constantine?’ Harker said, knowing full well the story because there wasn’t a priest in the world that didn’t.
‘Yes, exactly, the last true ruler of the united Roman Empire who from his deathbed made one final order, demanding the conversion of every citizen in the realm to Catholicism. From that moment onwards, it was the bishops and the burgeoning clergy that ruled all aspects of a citizen’s life from cradle to grave. They acquired control of everything through the persecution of any dissenting Christians.’
‘But surely the establishment of the Catholic Church put a stop to such persecution?’ It sounded as if Harker was taking Brulet’s comment a little too personally.
‘No, that’s exactly what people have been taught to believe. In fact, up until this time, the early Christians were not persecuted with any more zeal than were other smaller religions. Those stories of Christians en masse being fed to the lions in Nero’s circuses are purely fictional.’ Before Harker could protest, Brulet was already signalling him to be quiet with a wag of his finger. ‘Yes, yes, of course, some prisoners were fed to wild animals as part of the general Roman practice Ad Bestias or condemnation to beasts, but it was fairly rare and certainly not just because they were Christians.’
Content that Harker was mollified by this answer, he continued after a grunt.
‘No, no, the Romans treated all minor dissenting religions with the same contempt.’
Brulet deliberately took a slow, long sip from his cup as if testing Harker’s ability to remain quiet and just listen. Satisfied that no more interruptions would occur, he carried on with a gracious nod. ‘When Constantine established the Catholic Church, it meant that the bishops now joined the bureaucrats in composing a new governing class of the empire. The bishops of Italy became the heirs of the Roman senate, and the bishop of Rome became the emperor’s successor. But once this official version of Christianity was established, it meant that all others, even older branches of Christianity, were now seen as a threat – alongside the pagans, druids, and anyone else that commanded spiritual power over the population. And so began a prelude to the dark ages, a period when the old ideologies of the western world were destroyed and replaced with the new.’
The Templar Grand Master finally relinquished control of the conversation by relaxing into his armchair, a glint in his eye encouraging debate.
Harker had heard similar ideas expounded by a lecturer at King’s College, London, but he had never taken them seriously. ‘I’ve heard that theory before, but it seemed pretty far-fetched.’
Sebastian Brulet wagged a finger dismissively. ‘It’s no theory, Professor, I assure you. It actually happened, and both my forebears and the Magi were there to witness it.’
Harker once again relapsed into silence, willing to hear Brulet’s case further.
‘The descendants of the early Magi had followed Christianity devoutly from one generation to the next and thus became involved in the newly growing religion, but it did not last. During the beginnings of this new religious shift the Church leaders called a great assembly to best decide how this new religion would be constituted.’
‘The first Council Nicaea,’ Harker murmured.
‘Yes, it was determined how Catholicism would function and by following what system of beliefs. The very mechanics of the Church were decided upon, and every aspect of the new faith was scrutinised and voted upon, including its most important doctrine: that Jesus Christ was truly the son of God, rather than human, and made flesh by his Father. The descendants of a certain group were supposedly present amongst the adjudicators, already casting themselves in the role of rightful enforcers of the faith.’
Harker had already figured it out before the sentence was finished. ‘The Magi?’
Brulet gave a gentle nod. ‘Yes, the same secret faction that is now responsible for holding your friend Claire Dwyer captive.’
The very mention of her name sent a rush of apprehension through Harker’s stomach, and he immediately pushed the painful thought to the back of his mind as he allowed Brulet to continue.
‘Several self-appointed groups grew in strength alongside the Church itself. Then in AD 1118, a new order was created by a Frenchman Hughes de Payens ostensibly to protect pilgrims travelling to Jerusalem. That order was called the Knights Templars, and Hughes de Payens is one of my ancestors.’ Brulet let out a sigh of dismay. ‘The Magi, on the other hand, assumed the role of financial administrators, which, as they knew all too well, was where the real power of the Church lay. And that is how things stayed until a single event changed everything.’ Brulet rubbed his hand together awkwardly as if trying to rid himself of some unseen stain. ‘Even though my ancestors were amongst the first to embrace the church of St Peter, many of the ancient truths passed them by because it was not until the crusades that such truths were finally unearthed.’
Brulet stole another sip from his coffee cup, the ensuing silence only enhancing Harker’s curiosity. ‘Towards the end of the second crusade, in the aftermath of the battle for Jerusalem in AD 1123, the surviving Templars began to excavate the area of ground where King Solomon’s Temple had once stood. It was long believed that buried in the ruins of that building lay evidence revealing Christian truths of such importance that they could weaken the Catholic Church, possibly irreversibly, at a time when other major religions were fighting for global dominance and for the hearts of mankind. As righteous defenders of the faith, the Templars believed these truths must be protected at all cost, lest they fall into the wrong hands. After almost two years of excavation, the foundations of King Solomon’s Temple were finally discovered, and with it, a wealth of Christian relics.’
Sebastian Brulet drained his cup with a wince of disgust. ‘You know, that man couldn’t make a good cup of coffee to save his life!’ He shook his head in disgust, pushing the china cup to the other side of the table as if distancing it would somehow rid him of the aftertaste. ‘As I was saying, they recovered a wealth of Christian relics – ones whose importance shook their beliefs to the core, thus bringing about the beginning of the Templar reformation that transformed it into the secret organisation of today.’
Brulet rose to his feet up and made his way over to the nearest bookshelf. He tenderly extracted a leather-bound volume and returned to his seat, all the time tapping at the book’s binder with one long slim finger. ‘This is only one of many relics that were discovered, but it is the one that changed my family’s relationship with the Church forever.’ Brulet laid the book on to the table and carefully nudged it in Harker’s direction. ‘This is only a copy, Professor, since the genuine article is far too valuable to leave lying about on a library shelf.’
Harker excitedly pulled the book towards him and cradled it in both hands. The dark brown, cracked leather cover bore no title, and, judging by the wear and tear, it had been perused many times before. Cautiously Harker opened it up to find the pages inside were a high-resolution colour photocopy of such clarity that he could make out the minute scratches covering what must have been the original papyrus. The words had been written in a dark-red ink, the brush strokes consistent with the very basic type of pen generally used prior to the Middle Ages. The ink had hardened over time, causing cracks in the lettering, but the language was instantly recognisable to Harker as Aramaic – the same language a number of the Dead Sea Scrolls had been written in. It had originally been adopted by the Persians as the unifying language of their empire but was discarded after Alexander the Great had conquered the superpower, which was then carved up into smaller territories after his death. These nations adopted their new conqueror’s home language of Greek, with the exception of just one, for the Kingdom of Judah was the only nation to retain Aramaic as its official language.
Brulet watched silently, a hidden satisfaction lying deep in those mysterious star-shaped black pupils, as Harker thumbed his way across the first page, muttering quietly to himself. It took him just a few seconds to decipher the title, and with it, he experienced the most overpowering surge of excitement yet. He glanced across the table at Brulet, whose thin knowing smile said it all, and then shook his head in complete disbelief. He turned back to the text and deciphered it just to confirm the incredible reality of what he was reading.
‘This is …’ Harker broke off mid-sentence, and he swallowed hard, struggling to control his emotions.
Opposite him, Brulet’s smile widened. ‘Yes, Professor, you hold in your very hands a copy of the “Word of God” – and the very reason our order still exists to this day.’
Harker tried to steady shaking fingers as he read the title line out loud: ‘The Gospel According to Jesus of Nazareth!’ He continued to scan the lines of text, his mind still overwhelmed. He had spent so much time excavating sites over the past seven years – the digging and scraping of earth, the supervision of workers, the death of friends, as well as the political problems like arranging permits – and yet, here in the comfortable surroundings of this library, rested in his hands an item of more archaeological worth than anything he had ever dared hope to find. It gave him a momentary sense of sadness to consider how he, along with rest of the archaeological world, continually scoured the bowels of the earth for clues to the origins of human culture, religion, and everything in between, and all the while here, in a library on the outskirts of Rome lay one of the greatest historical discoveries never to have been made. He pondered that thought, for how many other crucial links to our past sat collecting dust in a private collection somewhere, never to see the light of day.
‘You seem sad, Professor.’
He looked up to catch Brulet looking genuinely concerned, his silver-tinted eyebrows raised demurely. Harker shook his head and offered him a smile. ‘No, just somewhat overwhelmed.’
Brulet resumed his smile. ‘Difficult not to be, isn’t it? Now, before you read on, allow me to enlighten you further to the events you currently find yourself embroiled in.’ He reached over and gently scooped the book out of Harker’s hands. Settling back in to his seat, he opened it to a special page with a flick of his tongue much as a schoolteacher would. ‘Our lord Jesus Christ wrote this account during the last two years of his life, and, of course, the title was added later. Some pages were missing when it was unearthed, and, much to your relief, no doubt, much of it verifies what appears in the King James Bible with one notable exception.’
Harker found himself leaning forward, like an enthralled pupil, as the surrogate teacher ran his finger across one particular passage in the book.
‘And so I say to all God’s children who wish to follow my teachings, do not do so in a place of worship set apart from where it truly matters. If you wish to honour me, observe my teachings in your daily life and in full view of the world around you. For my message is not something to be regulated, like in a Roman court, but must roam free in the hearts and minds of those who wish to see the Lord’s kingdom beyond, and in doing so it will change the face of man and earth forever.’ Brulet let the words hang for a moment in silence before closing the book and placing it back on the table. ‘So you see, Professor, Jesus Christ – the son of God – had no wish f
or his fellow man to be entrapped in psychological bondage. The Church we know – the hierarchy that has lasted over one-and-a-half thousand years – brought about by the Romans, the very people who crucified him, should not have been. But nothing so important changes overnight. The Templars still largely believed it was their duty to protect the Church from these subversive truths. So the relics were hidden away for safekeeping, and the Order continued in its duty of protecting the status quo. It carried on in this way for almost two hundred years until, finally, it took the betrayal of a pope to convince the Knights that they had made a mistake in suppressing these facts. Tell me, Professor, have you ever heard of the Templars’ treasure?’
Harker knew the legends well but wanted to hear it from Brulet’s own mouth. ‘I know bits but not much.’
Brulet looked disappointed at this response. ‘Then I shall give you a history lesson. During their years of service, the Templars saw their coffers swell. They even introduced the first banking system by allowing pilgrims to deposit money in their home country and pick up the same amount on reaching Jerusalem. Robbery was common in those days, and the road of pilgrimage was a long one when you’re dependent on riding a horse or, even worse, walking. These types of transactions and papal donations enabled the Order to amass a fortune – worth billions, even trillions, in today’s money. During this time, the head of the Catholic Church was Pope Clement V, who wanted to merge the newly formed Knights Hospitaller with the Templars in an effort to diffuse the Order’s power. Clement brought to light accusations from an ousted Templar that the Order was in fact anti-Catholic and involved in the most sordid activities. The Pope even went as far as approaching King Philip IV of France, who was by chance an old childhood friend, for assistance in mounting an investigation. Now Philip was already heavily in debt to the Templars, following years of wars with the English, and he seized upon this chance to resolve his finances by getting his hands on their fortune. So, with the help of Clement, he had the Templars disbanded and arrested, including Jacques de Molay, their last Grand Master, on Friday the thirteenth, which is one of the reasons the date still holds such a bad reputation almost seven hundred years later. Most of the Templars were executed, but some, including my ancestors, evaded capture, and when King Philip raided the Templars’ treasure vaults, he found them empty. All the Templar riches had disappeared. Of course, that is where their official history ends, but, in fact, it was only the beginning for the Templars. The few who remained gathered all the wealth and a fleet of ships and headed to Scotland, which had been excommunicated and was thus out of papal reach. These survivors placed my family line in charge of the Order and simultaneously pledged a new oath to undo everything the Catholic Church had done and to restore the Christian religion to the ideals as Jesus Christ had originally intended. And, from one generation to the next, we’ve been honouring that oath ever since, working to ensure observation of the true word of God and the true teachings of Christianity.’
Relics Page 14
