TEMPLE OF THE GRAIL - a Novel

by Adriana Koulias

  ‘And what of poor Jerome, the friend whom you infected with your lust for the new, with your desire for the unknown?’

  ‘Jerome is a sad case, he had an unnatural affection for me, he came here of his own accord to find the codices . . . the ass! No doubt he expected a kiss for his labours . . .’ Anselmo laughed and it echoed down many tunnels. ‘I was not sorry to find he had indeed been kissed . . . by death. But tell me, have you worked it all out yet? It intrigues me.’

  ‘More or less,’ he smiled proudly, and I prayed for his immortal soul.

  The boy nodded and my master continued. ‘Firstly, I realised that the monastery was founded by Templars sent here by the Grand Master Gerard of Ridefort, after the fall of Jerusalem, have I guessed correctly?’

  There was a nod.

  ‘They came here in possession of the Tables of the Law, and other secret gospels, for Setubar had elucidated this for us, but we also because we saw translations in the library.’

  ‘So you entered the library? Very clever . . . Ahhh . . . but perhaps you do not know that they were sent here after the loss of Jerusalem, when there was a difference of opinion between those who wanted to keep the order pure to follow the ‘bloodline’, and others who wanted to admit ‘new blood’. Then there was the possession of the articles from the Temple of Solomon . . .’

  ‘Ezekiel must have told you,’ my master confirmed.

  ‘Yes . . .’

  ‘And so the grand master had the articles brought here by the twelve Templars . . . to hide them! By the sword of Saladin!’

  The boy sat back with satisfaction. ‘This is a monastery of Templars disguised as Cistercians with the sanction of St Bernard, and so you now see why each abbot is an accomplished translator . . . but none could translate the one precious item, the Tables of the Law.’

  ‘But there was one who could,’ my master said, ‘namely a special child whose arrival had been foretold . . . only the one who was brought here by the four Cathar brothers was capable of reading the ancient texts. Before he could do this, however, he needed time to mature, but more importantly, he needed to undergo a special training, a kind of initiation into the mysteries in order to accomplish the task, the perfect work! Unfortunately the terrible war against the heretics by Gregory, and then by Innocent, made it difficult for the four Cathars to bring him here immediately, so they stayed at Montsegur waiting for an opportune moment. It did not help that they were caught up in the siege, which they luckily escaped with the help of Cathar nobles and other sympathisers. On their arrival here they found that the twelve initial founders had become hermits, and that there were others now who, during the course of time, had taken on the everyday running of the monastery. Let us say then that these four who had for so long kept this child safely guarded were now compelled to hand him over to the twelve, am I right? And were then to live out the rest of their lives without ever knowing what would become of him. Now these four wore the Cistercian habit, but they were Cathars and kept their perfecti status inviolate all these years. They integrated into the community well, and through time became important members of it until the brothers became curious about the boy whom they loved. When they heard his health was failing and that he was being taken to the catacombs regularly, they wanted to see him, but were denied this privilege. Brother Setubar had suspicions about whatever was happening and it became a great source of uneasiness. Somehow he found out about the great work, he disagreed with it and found a way of alerting the authorities. He sent a message to the Bishop of Toulouse, written by a left-handed person, outlining the numerous heretical tendencies that had taken hold in the monastery, alluding to the existence of a known murderer in their midst who he knew was sure to interest Rainiero Sacconi. This suited the bishop, for Rainiero was a fellow countryman and would do what was necessary to assure his interests in the monastery’s wealth . . .’

  ‘But Brother Setubar was not left-handed, preceptor,’ Anselmo grinned.

  ‘No, but you are,’ my master answered, elated. ‘He had you write the message, didn’t he? Because his hands are gnarled with age, and also because if he were to send a message to Toulouse it would incur suspicion, you could say you were seeking some transaction pertaining to your duties in the scriptorium. Now, Brother Setubar knew that you were lusting after the position of head translator, so he told you he would talk Ezekiel into giving you the position if you helped him, am I right?’

  ‘Remarkable, but how did you know that I was both left-and right-handed?’

  ‘The handwriting in your translations was that of a right-handed man, and so at first I discounted you as the note writer, but when I heard you play the organ, you played your left and right hand with equal strength. Most right-handed organists play the left hand always a little softer, but this was not the only indication. That morning we met you in the church when you were with Sacar, you made the sign of the cross, and mistakenly used your left hand.’

  ‘Did I? How careless of me, and how fortuitous for you. Tell me more . . .’

  The earth shook above us, but my master went on as though he was immortal. ‘Brother Setubar must have known that bringing the inquisitor here would mean the end for him and the other three Cathars. He was convinced that they would be discovered, so a week before our arrival, when word of the inquiry reached the abbey, he began to poison the raisins and wine with herbs provided by Asa, a potent mixture of substances, one of which is arsenic and the other atropa belladonna and so the delusions of flying.’

  ‘If that filthy cook had not taken the herb for his own use, you may have never guessed.’

  ‘Perhaps not.’

  ‘If only Asa had listened to me.’

  ‘He became suspicious of Setubar’s need for the herbs, didn’t he? He threatened to see the abbot, so you both swore him to secrecy and told him everything.’

  ‘Yes, well in this case I am the fool, I loved Asa, he was so feminine, so . . .’ he laughed wildly. ‘You see, preceptor, how we are all drowning in a sea of sin? I should have known Asa would never understand, it was not in his character.’

  ‘Then how did you stop him going to the abbot?’

  ‘I told him that before he did I would confess our carnal sin to him.’

  ‘So you had unnatural relations?’

  ‘No, but the abbot would believe me, for who would lie in a confessional?’

  ‘Diabolical!’ my master exclaimed, and I thought I discerned the slightest hint of admiration in his voice.

  ‘But I gave him the healing formulas that I found in the library and he was placated for a time.’

  ‘And so the words he would not divulge, but what then caused the sudden death of Brother Samuel? He entered the tunnels before the poisoned raisins could kill him . . . Something else here was his undoing. Brother Ezekiel, too, had ventured here sometime before his death, but he did not perish as brother Samuel did. All I can think is that he must have known the ways of the tunnels, for he was the only one allowed in the library, so he knew that he must avoid something, or perhaps he had no need to avoid it for some reason that I have not as yet formulated. In any case, he died of the poison that first night. But, it was you who killed Daniel!’

  Anselmo smiled broadly, ‘Bravo!’

  ‘The night he died you went to him and demanded that he tell you the ways of the tunnel. Daniel was the only one who held the secret combinations, he alone had been told on his arrival here many years before, and he refused to tell you anything. Moreover I believe he threatened to go to the abbot or perhaps to me . . . I don’t know what he said exactly, but in the end you had to kill him, am I right?’

  ‘More or less,’ Anselmo nodded his head.

  ‘Before you killed him you had been to the catacombs, you knew your way around a little because Brother Ezekiel had taken you to the library.

  ‘No. Ezekiel knew nothing of the catacombs, he only knew how to access the library through the scriptorium. It was you who showed me. I followed you the night you entere
d through the panel. That is how I knew how to get this far.’

  ‘Oh, so I have been mistaken . . . they were your footsteps we heard on our way back after we heard the great noise. The echoes made it sound as though you were coming our way, instead you were fleeing before us lest we see you, am I right?’

  ‘Yes, the noise was the mechanism triggered from within the catacombs.’

  Andre was thoughtful. ‘You had no reason to kill Daniel. He could not tell you anything more than you already knew.’

  ‘I had to kill him, preceptor.’ Anselmo stood. ‘It was the only logical thing to do, for you are a creature of logic. I knew that you suspected Setubar, but now also Asa, so that when you found the way through the infirmary chapel you thought that maybe he had slipped out through the tunnels and committed the crime after which he returned again through the secret passage. It was a simple way of throwing you further in both their directions. Ultimately, however, you expected that Daniel would be next. How could I disappoint you, preceptor?’

  My master paused for a moment. ‘You assume much. But you must not think me so clever . . .’ my master retrieved the iron bar, covered in blood and, to my horror, hair also, ‘for you thought that I would suspect Asa on such flimsy evidence.’

  ‘He could have killed him. It would only take a moment to hide the bar in the straw in the pallet in his room and return unseen.’

  ‘But why would he hide it under his own pallet when he could have left it in the catacombs? I may have been prepared to believe it, had I been less attentive. Something told me that all was not right.’

  ‘But how did you guess it was me?’

  ‘It was quite natural. You had dirt under your sandals after you left the tunnels that night, and so when you killed Daniel – I assume while we were in the library – the dirt became mixed with Daniel’s blood and left a nice imprint of your sandal on the floor. You are an unusually small monk and therefore it was not difficult to connect you with the crime, and also the notes, for the day I discovered you in my room, and you so inconveniently hit me on the head, I only noticed (as I fell to the ground) your sandals. I did not know they were yours at the time, but the thing that stayed with me was their unusual size, that is, small. Asa, by contrast, was tall and so he had large, rather long feet. However, this was not the only clue on which I have based my calculations. Note this iron bar. The man who used this to kill Daniel was left-handed. You see the imprint of blood? The fingers clasping it point to the left and the thumb to the right, indicating that it was held in the left hand, and not the right, for in this case it should have been reversed with the thumb pointing to the left and the fingers facing right. You know there are no other left-handed monks in this abbey and not many with unusually small feet.’

  ‘Very well surmised, but what about Setubar?’

  ‘That one is a little obvious . . . After the others were dead there was nothing more he could do, but before he could kill himself . . .’

  ‘Before the endura, that is to say, his suicide, he came to me in a fury . . .’

  ‘Of course he was in a fury, you killed Daniel . . . after staining his hands with the blood of the others he needed another perfect to give him the consolamentum, he would need to be reconsoled, and now there was no one who could do it . . .’

  ‘Of all things this pleased me the most,’ Anselmo said sighing with satisfaction. ‘When he came to me he said that he wanted the codices destroyed because he feared their secrets were being used to prolong life. This, he thought, was the end product of The Gospel of St Thomas…because it says in the first verse, ‘Whosoever discovers the interpretation of these sayings shall not taste death’, and as you know, the physical body of Setubar was most productive as food for worms.’

  ‘But he did not know the orientation, you told him you would tell him if he came down with you. You then pushed him down some steps, which broke his legs, and you left him to die.

  ‘He told me that he wished the gospels would burn on the pyre along with the silent ones and the boy, because he said to prolong life was the greatest sin. He would have destroyed everything!’

  ‘And so the reason why Asa turned on his master – his desire, as a man of medicine, was to discover the miraculous healing methods that you gave him a taste of.’

  ‘He was a fool. There is no magical healing, only the gospels and the tables! Codices! Think what they could give the world!’

  ‘You mean what they could give you?’

  ‘There is nothing wrong with desiring knowledge.’

  ‘Only if one kills in order to get it.’

  ‘We are not so different, preceptor. Why are you here if not to see for yourself what I have longed to see? You understand me because you are not like the others, you are half-infidel and no one understands learning better than infidels, not even the Jews. But you are also a curious man, and curious men are of two kinds; there are those who justify their sinful desires by calling them noble, and those who accept the truth and can face their own imperfections.’

  ‘What has led me here is not so dissimilar from your own curiosity, in that you are right, but I would not have killed for the pleasure.’

  ‘And yet as a knight you killed men every day. Was your cause more noble than mine? Is it right that a dozen monks alone see the true intentions of God? Forcing humanity to continue to use false texts. Come, do not tell me that you do not burn to know the truth of it. I know that you who have studied Plato, Aristotle, Cicero – you more than anyone must recognise the value of the written word in all its awesome power because you know that it can transform the world!’

  ‘Would it be transformed for the best, Anselmo?’

  ‘I have heard you say that you are a seeker after truth. If that is so, and you have not deceived us, you must agree that a truth is still a truth, though it is unpleasant, though it may cause dissension. Christ did not come into this world to bring about peace! His coming brought only war! And so it is when one manifests an important truth, many do not accept it, some are too willing!’

  ‘Tell me one thing, Anselmo. Why the notes? Was it to satisfy your pride, or to toy with us?’

  ‘I suppose it was both, really, but mostly because I knew that if I aroused your curiosity you would find a way into the catacombs for me. You see how easily I have used you?’

  ‘So you made those mistakes in Greek so I would suspect Macabus?’

  ‘He is nothing but a worm . . . an insect!’

  There was another rumble and the tunnels shook ominously.

  ‘And yet, here we are,’ my master said.

  ‘Yes, and your taper is running out, preceptor, here, you had best light my torch . . .’ He moved forward, a strange look on his face.

  Suddenly my master was throwing the lamp to me, and I caught it just as it was about to hit the ground.

  ‘Defender of the holy sepulchre! Now all is clear!’ my master cried with excitement, ‘I will not let you kill us all with your poisonous torch! The torches!’ He hit his head with the palm of his hand quite hard and I almost felt the sting. ‘I am a camel! An animal! The torches are coated with a poison, aren’t they? Something akin to serpent de pharaon, or perhaps even more deadly. A salt powder that, when mixed with mutton and ignited, gives off a deadly fume! So deadly that, in an enclosed space, one dies almost immediately. That is why Jerome died holding something and why we found a spent lamp discarded on the floor. He must have run out of taper – just as you did – almost as soon as he entered the false chamber. Now here’s the interesting part, before it could go out, he managed to light the torch, which hung on the bracket fixed to the wall. This explains why he did not have the time to search for a way out of the false room, he died instantly . . . The silent ones must have removed the torch from his hands so that none may know its secrets. Setubar knew, however, this was his one knowledge about the catacombs, and the one thing that he imparted to you. It also explains why Samuel died the moment he entered the first antechamber. He, too, must have l
it a torch with the candle he took from beneath the statue of the Virgin! Ezekiel did not die in such a way, because his sight was failing him and he knew the way without it. You were right, Christian, when you said each brother knew one thing about the tunnels. Air, Water, Earth, Fire. Air is knowledge and the library, Water is the organ, Earth is the orientation in the tunnels and Fire is the poisonous torches. Not only did the cook provide the silent ones with food, but also with poison from Macabus’ repository to which he held the keys on most nights, the poison they used to coat the torches . . .’ my master ended proudly.

  The youth smiled broadly and clapped his hands. ‘Bravo, bravo!’ He then moved forward aggressively, and I, with my own presence of mind, grasped the apple that I had kept all this time in my repository, and threw it as accurately as I could, hitting Anselmo on the head and moving him backwards. At that very moment it seemed as though the entire world above us gave way. The ceiling in the antechamber began to collapse, and a large section of it, followed by much rubble, came down squarely on Anselmo.

  A rock hit my master’s brow and left a deep graze. ‘Through the door!’ he shouted, shoving me through the aperture marked ‘Aqua’ and to the ledge before the roaring body of water now filled with debris.

  ‘So we will either drown or be buried alive,’ he said calmly. ‘So many alternatives !

  ‘I can swim, master.’

  ‘You can what?’ He turned to me astounded.

  ‘My mother taught me to swim, I can get you across.’

  ‘Why did you not tell me from the first?’

  ‘I was about to when we heard the terrible sound . . . and then it seemed a little futile, especially since you had so soon worked out the formula . . .’ I trailed off lamely, not wishing to say that I had been afraid to mention my ability lest he made me do it.

  ‘Never mind, how should we cross?’

  ‘I shall gauge its depth,’ I shouted, handing him the lamp.

  ‘By all means, take your time!’

  I sat on the ledge, my legs dangling into the freezing water, and immediately they were numb. The channel was the width of three men end to end and when my master shone the torch into it, it looked black. Saying a quick prayer, I plunged in and found that it was only waist-deep but with a very strong current that pulled one along furiously. I called out to my master, who followed me, holding the roll of parchments that had been hidden in his mantle above his head to keep them dry. Soon we were on the other side at the door to ‘Laodicea’, leaving pools of water where we stood, and shaking violently from the cold.