The Templar's Secret (The Templar Series) (33 page)

‘
When I was a graduate student at Oxford, I arrogantly believed that I had unraveled the mystery of the Knights Templar,’ he said, breaking the silence, his gaze still set on the bronze horse and rider. ‘It turned out to be a very foolish profession of faith.’

‘The
guys in white had you fooled, huh?’

‘
And damn them for doing so. I rue the day I ever heard of the Knights Templar.’ Realizing how petulant that sounded, he snorted derisively.
‘I’m sulking. Forgive me.’

‘Given everything that you’ve been through these last couple of days, you’re entitled to a little self-pity.’ Edie sidled closer and leaned her head on his shoulder. Her physical presence comforted him, proving that misery does indeed love company.

The rain began to fall harder, the hypnotic sound inducing a somnolent wave.

Caedmon
took a sip of his coffee, fighting the surge.

‘It’s as
though I’m banging my head against history’s stone wall; and receiving nothing for my efforts but a blistering headache. I could have the Wisdom of Solomon and still not be able to crack Fortes de Pinós’s blasted –’ He stopped abruptly, hit with a latent memory. ‘Wasn’t there something in Fortes de Pinós’s inquisition transcript about King Solomon?’

‘I honestly can’t recall. Let me pull up the transcript on the iPad.’ Stepping over to the desk, Edie retrieved her computer. A few seconds later, she began to read aloud the
pertinent passage from the Chinon transcript: ‘“When asked why he had carved the Seal of Solomon on to the wall of his cell, Brother Fortes claimed that he had been contemplating the wisdom of that great king which he believed to be a precursor to the wisdom that our Lord Jesus Christ imparted to his twelve disciples.”’ Edie glanced up from the iPad. ‘Would you like me to continue reading?’

‘No, that won’t be necessary. Medieval historians have long been intrigued by the fact that many of the incarcerated Templar knights carved glyphs and symbols on to the dungeon walls at Chinon Castle.’
Seized with a germinal hope, Caedmon dashed over to the desk, coffee sloshing en route.

‘So, they were –
what?
– secretly communicating with one another from inside their cells?’ Edie asked, joining him at the desk.

‘Undoubtedly. And, as you just read, Fortes carved a Seal of Solomon
on to the wall, a symbol better known as the Star of David.’

‘That’s the six-pointed star that’s on the Israeli flag, right?’

‘It is.’ Snatching a pencil, Caedmon drew the Seal of Solomon – a six-pointed star – on to a blank sheet of paper. Then, because Fortes had specifically mentioned the twelve disciples, he inserted twelve dots on to the star.

‘The Templars were particularly fond of substitution ciphers in which each letter of the alphabet was replaced with a symbol, dots being a favorite encryption device. Now, bearing in mind that t
he letters “j” and “u” weren’t in use during the early-fourteenth century, we should be able to add the twenty-four letters of the Medieval Latin alphabet on to the star,’ he told Edie as he placed the first letter – “a” – in the twelve o’clock position.

‘Yes, t
hat’s it,’ he whispered a few moments later, his pulse racing. ‘All of the slashes and dots that Fortes de Pinós carved on to the Tau stone are contained on the Seal of Solomon.’

Edie’s eyes glimmered brightly. ‘So, let’s hurry up and decipher the code!’

‘Right.’ Placing the sheet of paper with the rubbing from the Tau stone next to the Seal of Solomon, Caedmon used the star to decipher the encoded message.

Anticipation building, his heart thumped annoyingly against his sore ribs as he wrote out Fortes’s message, adding slashes to divide words.

La/vierge/dans/episcopvs/pres

Standing behind him, Edie peered over his shoulder. ‘I’m on pins and needles here. What does it say?’

‘“
La vierge dans episcopvs pres
.”’ Admittedly baffled, Caedmon pondered the deciphered text.
What the bloody hell does it mean?
He handed the sheet of paper to Edie. ‘The phrase is a combination of Latin and French. Translated into English, it reads, “the virgin in the bishop’s meadow”.’

‘Yes!
Thank you, baby Jesus!’ Edie exclaimed with a joyful whoop. ‘I am officially riding a little happy high.’

‘
I wouldn’t shout from the rooftops just yet. I have no bleeding idea what it means,’ Caedmon informed her.

Edie’s
jaw slackened, bubble instantly burst. Crestfallen, she eased herself into a vacant chair. ‘You’re kidding, right?’

Thunder boomed in the near distance.

‘Would that I was,’ he murmured, his blitz-battered mind struggling to make sense of the new riddle.
Christ!
He didn’t have time to meander through another medieval conundrum. There were only three days left.

Damn you, Fortes de Pinós.

‘“The virgin in the bishop’s meadow,”’ Edie repeated as she planted an elbow on the desktop. Sighing deeply, she rested her chin on top of her balled hand. ‘I know that what I’m about to say is probably due to sleep deprivation, but it reminds me of that board game; the one with Colonel Mustard in the library.’

‘
With the infamous candlestick. Were it only as simple as a game of Clue.’ He stared at the deciphered message.

Think, man, think!

‘The “virgin” undoubtedly refers to the Virgin Mary,’ he said at last, sloshing into the breakers. ‘With the word “bishop” being the key that unlocks the riddle.’

Hearing that, Edie set down her coffee cup and reached for the
colorful brochures stacked on the edge of the desk. ‘If so, the copper plate might be hidden somewhere in or around the cathedral at Compostela.’

‘Good God! I hope not,’ he retorted. ‘
It’s a stone colossus. What makes you say that?’

‘I read something in the tourist brochure that I picked up in the hotel lobby.’

He gave the pamphlets a disinterested glance.

Undeterred by his lack of enthusiasm, Edie unfolded a brochure emblazoned with a photograph of Santiago de Compostela. ‘L
isten to this: “In the year 814, Theodomir, the bishop of Iria Flavia, discovered the bodily remains of Saint James the Great. After official validation by the pope as a sacred relic, a pilgrimage settlement was founded by Bishop Diego Gelmirez.”’ She glanced up from the brochure, verifying that she had his full attention. ‘Right there, we’ve got, not one, but
two
bishops mentioned.’ She emphasized the last point by raising two fingers. ‘And here’s another interesting tidbit: “Legend has it that Theodomir was guided to the site by a star in the night sky. Thus giving to the settlement the name Compostela, a corruption of the Latin phrase
Campus Stellae
,
meaning –’

‘
Field of stars,’ Caedmon interjected. ‘A field and a meadow, one and the same.’

‘
And
Fortes de Pinós encoded his message on to a star.’ A determined look in her eyes, Edie tapped a finger against the Seal of Solomon that he’d drawn.

‘D
oes your guide book mention that Santiago de Compostela is one of the largest cathedrals in the world?’ he countered in a crabby tone of voice. ‘I wouldn’t hazard to guess how many statues, paintings and holy objects involve the Virgin Mary. It also bears mentioning that while the Knights Templar owned numerous holdings along the Camino de Santiago and were commissioned by the kings of Iberia to protect the pilgrim routes, I don’t believe that they had any direct affiliation with the cathedral.’

‘Which explains
why Fortes de Pinós might hide the third plate at Santiago de Compostela. He figured it’d be the last place the inquisitors would look.’ Remarkably steadfast, Edie continued to argue her case.
‘Here’s one last point to ponder: if Fortes was worried about being apprehended, he could very easily have shaved his long Templar beard, chucked the snowy white mantle, picked up a walking stick and disguised himself as a pilgrim. The Camino de Santiago went right past Ponferrada Castle. All he had to do was hop on the love train and walk to the cathedral. A very easy way to get out of Dodge.’

‘
Mmmm.’ Caedmon mulled it over, Edie’s argument a persuasive one. Moreover, had he been in Fortes’s leather-clad boots, that’s precisely how he would have evaded arrest.
Except . . .

He shook his head
, annoyed by a niggling detail. ‘According to the deciphered message, Fortes intended to take the third plate to the bishop’s field. Not the “field of stars”. If he planned to cache the plate at the cathedral at Compostela, why didn’t he simply encode the Tau stone with –’

The bishop’s
meadow!

‘
Of course,’ he murmured, peeved that the solution hadn’t come to him sooner. ‘Your theory is absolutely correct except for one small detail. When Fortes left Ponferrada disguised as a pilgrim, he did travel to a church. But it wasn’t Santiago de Compostela.’ Caedmon glanced at his watch.
0143 hours.
‘We must quickly devise a plan to elude Calzada. If the Bête Noire gets his hands on the third plate, we’ll have no leverage.’

‘
As in “pop” goes the weasel.’ Grim-faced, Edie glanced at the bolted door that separated the two adjoining rooms. ‘Making you and me a pair of defenseless weasels.’

‘
We’re not as defenseless as you seem to think. Clearly you’re unaware of the fact that “weasel” derives from the old Anglo-Saxon word
weatsop
.’

‘
Okay, I’ll bite. What does that mean?’

Smiling
humorlessly, Caedmon said, ‘Roughly translated,
weatsop
means “a vicious, bloodthirsty animal”. The sweet-faced weasel’s secret weapon.’

And one that he intended to use to devastating effect.

Santiago de Compostela

Friday

Tourist brochures in hand,
Caedmon and Edie made their way across the Plaza del Obradoiro, the grand square that fronted the western facade of Santiago de Compostela. Craning his head, Caedmon peered over his shoulder.
Excellent.
Hector Calzada still trailed in their wake.