The Templar Heresy

by James Becker

  ‘Shall we hire a car?’ Angela asked.

  ‘That’s probably not a good idea,’ Bronson replied, scanning the crowded building as he spoke. ‘We’ve already left an electronic trail by using a credit card to pay for the flight, and if they are as organized as they seem to be, they’ll already know that we’re here in Israel. It’ll take longer, but I’m sure we’ll be a whole lot safer if we just become two more anonymous passengers on a bus. And according to my map it’s not that far to Jerusalem.’

  They headed to the bridge on the second floor of the airport and crossed over it to the bus stop for the short ride to the Egged bus station at Airport City. There, they disembarked and took the next available number 947 to the Central Bus Station in Jerusalem, a journey that was completed in just under an hour and a quarter.

  ‘Shall we look for a hotel first?’ Angela said as they stepped into the bright sunshine of late afternoon.

  ‘Definitely. We’ll take a taxi to somewhere near the Temple Mount and see what we can find. On the map it looks like about two miles from here to the Old City, which would take us a while to walk. Not to mention that we’d probably get lost if we tried.’

  Modern Jerusalem surrounds and entirely encloses the Old City, but planning laws have mandated against high-rise buildings and most development has been restricted to the higher ground, leaving the valleys as open spaces, so it provides a sensation of space and openness. And it was a British regulation, imposed when Great Britain governed the area, that specified local limestone – Jerusalem Stone – was to be used for all the façades. Pinkish-white in colour, the shade changes throughout the day as the light alters, meaning that the colours and appearance of the buildings, of the whole city, in fact, changes as well.

  A quarter of an hour later, Bronson paid off the cab driver at the Jaffa Gate, the gate to the west of the Old City near the Tower of David and one of the busiest entrances penetrating the sixteenth-century wall – built on the orders of the Ottoman ruler Süleyman I – that surrounded the ancient heart of Jerusalem. In his hand were three business cards for local hotels, given to him by the taxi driver.

  The Old City lay before them, within the mediaeval wall. It was not particularly big – very roughly square shaped, with the Temple Mount occupying about half of the eastern side, directly opposite the Jaffa Gate, and a little over half a mile from north to south and roughly the same from east to west. Within the boundary wall the Old City was divided into four quadrants representing the dominant religions that had occupied Jerusalem over the centuries. Running clockwise from the north, there was the Muslim district – which included the Temple Mount – then the Jewish, Armenian and Christian districts.

  All three of the hotels the driver had suggested were in the Christian and Muslim quarters and were, the man had assured them, both very high quality and very reasonably priced. They passed along a section of the main axis of the ancient city, skirting the permanent Arab market or suq. One of the most dominant features of Jerusalem life, it was crowded with shoppers talking and haggling over the prices asked for goods.

  They walked east along David Street, heading directly towards the Western Wall, but then turned north up Shuk ha-Basamim Street and continued past the Alexander Nevski Church. One of the hotels recommended by the taxi driver was only about a hundred yards in front of them.

  Jerusalem has been a melting pot of cultures and religions for centuries, and the streets teemed with people. Orthodox Jews, black hats perched seemingly precariously on the tops of their heads and black curls dangling down both sides of their faces, bustled around, some alone, others in small groups talking earnestly together. None of them ever seemed to smile. Arabs moved steadily through the crowds, their pace relaxed and sedate. Tourists from almost every nation on the planet stood and walked and talked and took photographs of the almost indescribably ancient buildings.

  And as a constant reminder of the state of religious and political flux that characterized Jerusalem, and of the troubles that sporadically flared up between the nations, armed Jewish soldiers stood on corners, their eyes flicking from one face to another, looking for the first sign of trouble, their hands resting on the pistol grips of their Galil assault rifles.

  But perhaps even more than the diversity of the people, it was the buildings that entranced them. The sense of age, of centuries, millennia even, was almost palpable. It was as if the countless years of occupation by disparate civilizations had weighed down the buildings and the streets, investing the very structure of the city with an unmistakable sense of timeless occupation. Above all, Bronson detected a sense of sadness, as though the fabric of Jerusalem, the very stones themselves, had somehow absorbed some of the emotions experienced by the inhabitants when the peace of the city had been brutally shattered by one or another of the invading armies that had breached the defences over the millennia and, all too often, massacred everyone they found inside the walls.

  ‘This is quite a place,’ he said, painfully aware of the complete inadequacy of his words to convey more than a fraction of what he was feeling.

  ‘Yes,’ Angela replied thoughtfully, and Bronson could see that she was feeling exactly the same way.

  The hotel stood on the corner at the crossroads they were approaching and, as far as Bronson could see, it didn’t look too bad.

  ‘This should do us,’ he said as he led the way to the main entrance.

  Twenty minutes later, they were standing side by side in their compact double room on the first floor of the building, and looking out of the window across the rooftops of the Old City towards the Temple Mount.

  ‘It looks bigger than I remember it,’ Angela said. ‘The Mount, I mean.’

  ‘Last time we were here, if I remember correctly, we were a bit too busy to do any sightseeing, and I doubt we’ll get much opportunity now either. The chances are that our pursuers are here already, either because they’ve tracked us or because they’ve also managed to decipher the first part of that inscription. They can’t know about this hotel, of course, but they’ll know that the only reason we would have for flying to Israel is because we think the clue referred to in the inscription is here, somewhere under the Temple Mount. So we’ll need to keep our eyes open and stay alert. They’ll have photographs of us by now, or at least of you, culled from some professional journal, so they’re already one step ahead of us.’

  Angela looked worried at his last remark.

  ‘In a country like this,’ she said, ‘my fair skin and blonde hair are going to really stand out. When we leave the hotel I’ll put my hair up and wear a hat or scarf or something. I guess I’ll need to do that anyway, especially if we’re going to any of the religious sites, like the Kotel tunnels behind the Western Wall.’

  ‘That should be our first stop,’ Bronson agreed. ‘And with a bit of luck it might be our last stop as well, assuming that whatever we’re looking for is still there.’

  ‘But what are we looking for?’

  ‘Now that is a bloody good question. And our biggest problem. Logically I’d assume it must be a carving or another inscription or something of that sort – something that will provide the code word that we need to complete the decryption. What I’m hoping is that it will be recognizable, that it will have some characteristic or feature that will link it to the inscription you found in Iraq. But, frankly, I think we’ll just have to look at everything and photograph as much as we can and hope that we’ll somehow spot what we’re looking for.’

  ‘I feel like the odds are against us. And one more thing: I thought that the Kotel tunnels only ran along the very edge of the Temple Mount, and that most of the chambers were deep under the Mount and completely inaccessible from all entrances. If we take the translation literally, we should be looking for a cavity under either the Dome of the Rock or the Al Aqsa Mosque, depending upon what we believe is meant by the word “temple”, and one thing I do know is that there is no possibility at all of getting into those subterranean rooms.’

 
‘You may well be right,’ Bronson said. ‘It’s entirely possible that the key, whatever it turns out to be, will be hidden way beyond our reach, and if that’s the case we’ll have to rethink. But it’s worth trying, and maybe we’ll get lucky. If there’s nothing in the tunnel system that we can access, the only other possibility, I suppose, is that we try a little bit of discreet unauthorized surveying, and see if we can find anything that way.’

  Angela looked at him for a few seconds before she replied.

  ‘I hope you’re not suggesting what I have a horrible feeling that you are suggesting,’ she said.

  36

  Jerusalem

  Farooq sat opposite Khaled in the hotel room the Iraqi had booked, and for a few seconds just stared at him. Then he shook his head slowly, trying to choose his words carefully.

  ‘I understand what you want us to do,’ he said, ‘but I’m not sure that we’re the right people for this kind of work. My men are freedom fighters, fighters for Islam. That’s what we know, and what we’ve trained for. When you first requested our services, you told me that we would be facing infidels, legitimate targets that we could engage in the name of the prophet, peace be upon him. And what you asked us to do we did, to the best of our ability. But this is not our fight.’

  Farooq paused for a moment, his dark brown eyes fixed on the face of the older man.

  ‘I have no complaints about your work,’ Khaled said, ‘but I would like to remind you that you and your men have been extremely well paid for what you have done so far. You may be fighters for Islam, but you’re also mercenary soldiers.’

  ‘I don’t dispute that, but the point is that this has nothing to do with money. We came to Jerusalem on the understanding that you needed us to perform the same kind of services, to locate and kill more of that group of infidels who had opposed us in Iraq. We have obtained weapons as you instructed, but what you are now asking us to do is completely different.’

  Khaled nodded. ‘I would agree with you if this were just a simple matter of exploring a cave or cellar, but what I want doing is far more dangerous than that. It is possible that we might encounter the couple who escaped us in Iraq, in which case we can cut off that particular loose end, but we will also probably have to contend with armed Israeli police and soldiers. This will not be a simple matter of exploration, and I really do need the protection and help that only you and your men can offer. And, let me remind you, I am offering you a substantial fee for your services.’

  Khaled paused for a moment, sensing that he would have to do far more to convince the younger man to provide the assistance that he needed. It would mean taking him even further into his confidence – something he was reluctant to do for several reasons. But he saw no real alternative.

  Marshalling what he hoped would be the final and most decisive argument, he leaned forward in his seat and unconsciously lowered his voice, despite the fact that they were quite alone in the room.

  In the other armchair on the opposite side of the small glass-topped coffee table, Farooq mirrored his actions.

  ‘I have never explained to you what this quest is for,’ Khaled began, ‘or not in any detail, anyway.’

  Farooq nodded. ‘I have had all the information necessary to complete the tasks you set us.’

  ‘Exactly,’ Khaled replied. ‘But for you to fully appreciate the importance of what I’m trying to do, I would like to explain precisely why I was so excited when I learned about the inscription in the underground chamber, and why I was so determined that none of the archaeologists would be permitted to live after they had seen it.’

  ‘I assumed you had a good reason for issuing that order.’

  Khaled didn’t reply directly, but simply nodded and then slightly changed the subject.

  ‘About twenty years ago,’ he began, ‘a piece of ancient parchment came into my possession. That in itself was by no means unusual. In my profession I am frequently required to examine and authenticate such documents. In this case, the provenance of the relic was indisputable. It had been held in a storeroom at the museum for the better part of half a century, and had been rediscovered, so to speak, when that room was being cleared prior to redecoration. The parchment was included within a bundle of other written materials, and the whole lot had been passed to me for assessment, in case any of the documents had historical importance or significant value. I scanned every piece of parchment I’d been given, but none, apart from that one obviously, was of any particular interest.’

  ‘What was so important about the parchment?’

  ‘I still don’t know its precise origin, but the material was covered in carefully written Arabic script, and my best estimation was that it had originated in the middle of the fourteenth century, or perhaps a little later.’

  Farooq made a waving gesture with his hand, encouraging Khaled to get to the point of the matter.

  ‘The text on the parchment referred to a particular relic that has been lost to history for over two millennia. In fact, most people doubt that it survived beyond the middle of the first century. But what that document said was quite unequivocal. It not only stated that the relic had survived – at least until the time that the document had been written – but it also claimed that information relating to the relic’s present location was included on an encrypted inscription on the wall of a Mandaean temple – an underground temple – somewhere in southern Iraq. It even gave directions to that temple, but time and the shifting sands of the Iraqi desert meant that none of the locations it referred to were still identifiable. That was why I was so excited when I learned what the archaeological team had stumbled across.’

  ‘And what relic did the text refer to?’ Farooq asked. ‘Presumably it was something of considerable value.’

  To his surprise, Khaled shook his head decisively.

  ‘No. In fact, the object neither had nor has any commercial value whatsoever, though you could argue that its symbolic value was priceless. Or, just to be completely accurate and clear about this, it had a huge symbolic value in the mediaeval period, but today I suspect that it would simply be regarded as a curio, nothing more.’

  Khaled looked at the puzzled expression on the face of the younger man.

  ‘I’m sorry, Farooq, but you’re the first person I’ve ever talked to about this. I fully appreciate that none of it really makes much sense at the moment. Why would I order the deaths of fifteen or twenty archaeologists when all they’ve discovered is information about the location of an ancient relic that has no monetary value?

  ‘In fact, it’s not the relic itself that is important. It’s the belief system that surrounded the relic and which drove the actions of a particular group of men. These people venerated that object above all others, and that is why it’s so important. Because when the organization to which these men belonged ceased to exist, not only was the relic hidden in a place of safety, but the considerable assets that they possessed – assets that today would be worth a literal fortune – were almost certainly hidden in precisely the same location. You see the implication, of course. So there is money involved – riches beyond anything you could possibly imagine.’

  Farooq nodded.

  ‘That is why I began this quest. That is why the archaeologists had to die. I couldn’t risk any of them making the same connection that I did and finding the relic before me. And if I succeed in this quest – with your help – I’m fully prepared to share whatever we find with you. I know your group is often short of funds. Well, trust me, Farooq, because if we find this relic and what I believe to be hidden with it, then you will have more money at your disposal than you could ever possibly spend. You could start a jihad against the infidel West that would last for a hundred years, that would drive them from our homeland and into the sea, never to return.’

  Khaled paused for a moment, wondering if he had overstated the case, if the hard sell had perhaps been too hard for Farooq to believe. But the gleam in the young man’s eyes gave the lie to his fears.
>
  ‘We will do this,’ Farooq said, his voice soft but determined. ‘We will do what you want in return for a share of whatever you find. What division do you suggest?’

  ‘Half for you and your group, and half for me,’ Khaled replied. ‘I have the information needed to follow the trail, but I need you and your men to ensure that we aren’t stopped or beaten to it. We’re complementary to each other.’

  Farooq nodded.

  ‘Agreed,’ he said. ‘That is generous.’

  ‘I need you with me, fully committed. If you felt I was being greedy, then perhaps I wouldn’t be able to count upon your wholehearted support.’

  ‘Now,’ Farooq said, ‘are you prepared to tell me what this mysterious relic is that we’re searching for?’

  Khaled shook his head.

  ‘No,’ he replied. ‘Instead, I’ll let you tell me. You’re an educated man, and I think you should be able to work it out. Let me list the clues for you. We have a relic that was venerated and arguably priceless until the Middle Ages, but which today because of changes in belief systems around the world would only be considered a curio. It was not only of crucial importance to that one group of men that I alluded to, but also to the Mandaeans of southern Iraq. The men who had custody of the relic fell from grace but left behind them an enduring mystery in the form of the almost complete disappearance of all the assets they were known to possess. Now,’ Khaled added with a smile, ‘with all that information to hand, what relic do you think we’re looking for?’

  Farooq sat in thought for perhaps half a minute, then a broad smile crossed his face and he nodded. Then he spoke just six words.

  At his response Khaled also nodded, stood up and extended his hand.

  ‘That,’ he replied, ‘is precisely what we are seeking.’

  37

  Jerusalem

  ‘You can’t just kick down a door and wander about under the Temple Mount,’ Angela said.