The Larmenius Inheritance

by John Paul Davis

  ‘You think they killed your father because of an historic vendetta?’

  ‘My father believed that the Templars who formed the Knights of Arcadia did so for a reason. My father was high up; I always knew he knew things others never did. I think he was killed for that.’

  Nicole shook her head. ‘Why would they hate each other?’

  ‘The Templars in Scotland escaped while those in France were tortured. In the eyes of those who stayed, those in Scotland were cowards. They were deserters.’

  Nicole’s eyes lit up. For the first time the letters she had seen smeared across the dead bodies stood out as clear as day.

  ‘Lorraine, please, tell me everything you know.’

  Outside the luxury block of apartments, the monk known as Stuart watched the young girl he had seen at the grandmaster’s funeral depart from the tower and walk quickly in the direction of the nearby marina. Behind the seclusion of tinted glass, he saw her remove her mobile phone and place the device to her ear.

  He judged by the speed of her gait that the girl was acting on something positive.

  He feared she knew too much.

  Nicole was literally in a daze. The news she had received moments earlier was still insufficient to tell her everything, but at last she had a place to start.

  Why the hell would Mills not tell her the truth about the Order of the Ancient Star?

  Who on earth was Wilfred Mansell?

  Alone in her luxury penthouse, Lorraine Denison stood with her arms wrapped around her body. The memory of her recent conversation with the young journalist was still fresh in her mind.

  She walked toward the sideboard and picked up the cordless phone from the base unit. She navigated the memory for the number she wanted and pressed the green dial button. For several seconds she heard nothing but a ringing sound.

  Finally an answer.

  ‘Father Winter, it’s Lorraine Denison.’

  ‘My dear, it’s wonderful to hear your voice.’

  ‘Father, I think I’ve just made a great mistake.’

  35

  Jura helped the priest remove the lid of the tabernacle and invited Matt to see it for himself. Not surprisingly, it was empty.

  He guessed that it had not been used for quite some time.

  The wisdom of King Solomon, was he kidding? The assertion was preposterous, but he could tell from the priest’s facial expression that was his belief. His initial reaction was to dismiss it. Even if it was real, it seemed almost irrelevant. He assumed a biblical scholar might have a more specific interpretation, probably more mundane than the literal Hebrew translation.

  Yet strangely, the assessment made sense. The monument was easily large enough to house something up to three metres in length, and the marble exterior was a dead ringer in appearance for the traditional description of the First Temple.

  The interior was confusing. Rather than seeing the expected ornate carvings and symbols of religious significance, the materials were more in keeping with a mine or a nuclear bunker. The tabernacle was lined with lead.

  Matt turned toward Jura and the priest. The banker smiled widely, though without obvious humour. It was obvious to Jura that Matt was way over his head.

  ‘The wisdom of wise King Solomon,’ Matt said.

  The priest noticed the emphasis on the wise. ‘Perhaps I might explain what is known,’ he said, his expression thoughtful. ‘Or at least what some are led to believe.’

  He looked at Matt. ‘How clear is your knowledge, Matthew, of the Old Testament?’

  He almost laughed but controlled himself. He reminded himself he was in church. ‘I guess there’s room for improvement.’

  The priest smiled, illustrating little or no judgment. ‘According to the Book of Exodus, when Moses led the Israelites out of Egypt, they wandered for forty years in the wilderness. But the Book of Exodus also contains descriptions of the Israelites’ time at the foot of a large mountain, often identified as Sinai. On this mountain, Moses receives the Ten Commandments, later written down on two tablets. I’m sure the gist of the story is familiar.’

  Matt smiled. Twenty-four years the son of an historian had taught him to take tales of the Old Testament with a pinch of salt.

  ‘Many years after the passing of Moses, the land of Israel united under the reign of King David.’

  ‘The man who defeated Goliath,’ Matt said, his arms folded.

  The priest smiled. ‘A small part of the story. Though David was chosen as God’s king of the United Monarchy, he did not live to see the temple built to house the Ark of the Covenant. As the king became more old and frail, and found it difficult to get warm, David’s heir…’

  ‘Adonijah,’ Jura interrupted.

  ‘Adonijah,’ the priest agreed, ‘claimed himself as rightful successor. However, another of David’s wives, Bathsheba, also mother of Solomon, convinced David, along with the prophet Nathan, to make Solomon king.

  ‘Though a young boy, God favoured Solomon. According to the Book of Kings, Solomon was penitent before God and desired only to rule with a humble heart.

  ‘It is written in the Book of Kings that after Solomon made 1,000 burnt offerings to God at Gibeon, the Lord appeared to him in a dream and offered him the reward of his choice. To this, Solomon asked for an understanding mind to govern God’s people, that he may discern between good and evil.’

  Matt looked at the priest, still unclear of the point.

  ‘Since the king had asked for something so honourable, the Lord gave what Solomon had asked for. In time, it was said that the whole world sought audience with Solomon to hear the wisdom that God had put in his heart.’

  The priest paused, his smile serene.

  Matt was unconvinced. ‘So what was this wisdom?’

  Jura shrugged. ‘Lost.’

  Matt was still unconvinced. ‘But surely the Bible speaks of it? How can this be a mystery?’

  Jura’s smile widened. ‘And the rest of the acts of Solomon, and all that he did, and his wisdom, are they not written in the book of the Acts of Solomon?’

  The priest laughed. He could tell that Matt was confused. ‘The reference you just heard was written in the first Book of Kings. Sadly that book of which it speaks has long since vanished.’

  ‘The original book of acts may have been the work of the prophet Iddo, himself author of a number of lost works,’ Jura continued.

  The priest agreed. ‘It is known from other sources that Iddo was a prolific scholar in his day – and also a minor prophet. Unfortunately, it is unknown what happened to his works.’

  ‘Tell him about what happened after the destruction of the First Temple,’ Jura said.

  The priest resumed. ‘Legend tells us that the wise king was buried in the Holy of Holies and remained at the First Temple until the Babylonians laid siege to the city of Jerusalem. Further to that time, the Kingdom of Solomon falls into the realm of folklore.’

  Jura’s excitement was building. ‘Most likely one of three things happened. Possibly the possessions of the First Temple were taken by the Babylonians and became the property of their ruler, Nebuchadnezzar.

  ‘A second possibility is that it is still buried beneath the ruins of the First Temple; we know that there are plenty of areas still to be explored.’

  Jura paused before stating the final possibility.

  ‘Another possibility is that it was removed from the temple shortly before the Babylonian conquest and taken to a secret location.’

  Matt nodded. The story was going somewhere.

  ‘According to an account written by the Maccabees, prior to the destruction of the city, the prophet Jeremiah fled with three relics. According to the same account, Jeremiah placed them in a cave on the Mountain of God – the location where Moses received the Ten Commandments and, according to Leviticus, also where he had his vision of the Promised Land. Now should this be true, the next problem is deciphering the location of the mountain.’

  ‘Mount Sinai as given in Levi
ticus presumably asserts the Mountain of God to be found in the Sinai Peninsula of Egypt,’ the priest said.

  ‘That is accepted by many historians,’ Jura replied, ‘however, the theory is not without its flaws. The Mountain of God can only be ascertained through validating the author of the Old Testament’s geography.’

  Matt looked at both men in turn. Until this point, he had never considered the possibility that the locations could be the subject of mistaken identity.

  ‘A better candidate might be the mountain of Jebel al-Madhbah, located in the Shara Mountains in the Valley of Edom,’ Jura said. ‘The Valley of Edom is known in Arabic as Wadi Musa, meaning effectively Valley of Moses.’

  Matt nodded, not knowing what else to do. The prospect excited him.

  ‘During the Crusades, the valley was temporarily under the control of the Knights Templar. Now there is a legend, just a legend, that the Templars there found a cave on the mountain where there was buried considerable gold and other artefacts.’

  Matt looked at them both, confused. ‘You think they found the tomb of King Solomon?’

  The priest smiled. ‘What can be ascertained is that among their finds was something described solely as a sacred tomb. Now at the time, the man responsible for the Templar garrison was Ralph de Sudeley, a Templar knight from Warwickshire. A similar object to that described in the cave later appears on Sudeley’s inventory back in England. However, soon afterwards, it vanishes without a trace.’

  Jura’s excitement was growing. ‘Until recently it was unclear what had happened to this: local lore referred to the find being taken away in around 1307, just prior to the Templar arrests in England. However, this changed following your discovery of a letter written by this Knight of Christ, describing something similar at Kilwinning Abbey.’

  The priest nodded. ‘Further evidence has also recently come to light. According to a letter found in this very vault, a Templar knight visited the abbey from Warwickshire. Among his inventory, he describes the carrying of a sacred tomb.’

  Matt’s eyes lit up. ‘What?’

  Jura was now in his element. ‘Until recently, the records of Kilwinning Abbey were assumed missing, but as luck would have it, they recently turned up: here of all places.’

  The priest laughed. ‘Legend says that the records were taken from Kilwinning in the 1570s by a knight on a white horse.’

  ‘A Knight of Christ to be precise.’

  The situation was too much to take in. If this was correct, the consequences were enormous.

  Potential proof that the most famous story of the Old Testament was historical!

  ‘There is another legend, Matthew, that the tomb the Templars found contained only the wise king’s body and writings. It has also been told that his head went missing, until it was discovered in the city of Sidon, sometime in around 1132. Solomon himself had entered something of a relationship with the city following his, so-called, fall in idolatry. Allegedly, the Templars revered this Skull of Sidon for its magical powers.’

  Matt’s interest was growing. A wry smile covered his face.

  ‘The exact treasures of the Knights Templar have never been known, not for sure,’ the priest said philosophically. ‘We have legends, but with legend comes great fabrication.’

  ‘With legend also comes faith,’ Jura said.

  ‘The survival of the Knights Templar is beyond question,’ the priest said, ‘but in the eyes of the common historian, its survival is littered with difficult questions.’

  ‘Many shy away, they don’t even acknowledge the possibilities.’

  Matt nodded. He was aware that there was truth in the statement.

  ‘Those in Portugal took a new course of action,’ the priest said. ‘But there are many unanswered questions regarding the fate of de Molay’s legacy. That the Templar Rule was passed on is known. His successor was John-Marc Larmenius, and he became the new grandmaster. Unofficially, he is also the first grandmaster of the new Knights of Arcadia.’

  ‘Ask your uncle,’ Jura said.

  Matt caught the rebuke. Could the abbot really have been part of this?

  ‘Whatever Larmenius inherited from de Molay had more than just monetary value, but there was undoubtedly plenty of that as well. When Larmenius came to Scotland, the hoard was almost certainly brought with them and deposited at Kilwinning. Furthermore, following the excommunication and the rounding up of English Templars by the county sheriffs, it was decided that any remaining valuables would be taken north.’

  Matt nodded. He was aware that Scotland was a safe haven due to Robert the Bruce’s excommunication from Rome.

  ‘For the first time, we now know with a degree of certainty what the Knights Templar carried, where the legends came from, and how they continued,’ Jura said. ‘The fate of the men in Portugal is no secret. In Switzerland and even Scotland, for so long the truth was never attainable, even for members of both orders.’ He paused, his gaze once again on the strange tabernacle. ‘For the first time the history is right before our eyes. Within touching distance.’

  Matt finally accepted the point. It was ironic that the banker, a Templar from Switzerland, and the priest, evidently a Templar from Portugal, were both together in the same place. He thought about his own family history, the connections with the men from Scotland, the deserters as they called them.

  ‘Was this why my father was here?’

  Jura’s expression completely changed. ‘Matt, it’s time you knew the truth. Father da Bonisca is the grandmaster of the real Order of Christ. When the society was secularised in 1789, the core of the original order also continued, only now as a monastic order. Father da Bonisca is a true Templar.’

  Matt smiled.

  ‘Less than four weeks ago your father stood with us in this very spot. Never before had the grandmasters of the three societies come together in peace.’

  Matt put his hands to his mouth, slightly lost for words. ‘What happened?’

  Jura placed a hand on Matt’s shoulder. ‘The archive has given us new light on an old story. The trail of the lost treasure and the hidden history of our early trailblazers has taught us much. The Templars who found the tomb and what came with it were assigned as its keepers. They were known for that reason as the Keepers of the Light.’

  ‘You really believe that an historical King Solomon was entrusted with the wisdom of God? That the Acts of Solomon was history, not myth?’

  The priest smiled thoughtfully. ‘Perhaps. But what you must understand is that whoever these men were, they did believe it. They lived at a time of superstition. For them, there was no separation between religion and politics or religion and science. Exactly what that wisdom was remains a mystery. Soon, we hope to answer these questions ourselves.’

  Matt nodded, eyeing both men in turn before examining the interior of the tabernacle. ‘Why is it lined with lead?’

  Jura was unsure. ‘Perhaps the coffin was perfectly intact. Many kings were buried that way.’

  Matt realised he had a point. ‘Where is the tomb now?’

  Jura raised his eyebrows. ‘According to the curator, included in the wealth of literature was another letter, this time written by Miguel to Vasco. While there is no undeniable evidence that the tomb was ever taken from Kilwinning to Tomar, a near exact tomb is described as being taken to the New World.’

  Matt nodded, keeping his face straight. Silently he no longer doubted proof of the tomb’s presence in Tomar.

  ‘But you still don’t know where?’

  Jura smiled. ‘Perhaps Professor Richards might have an answer when we return.’

  Robert leaned over the woman. He felt his heart tighten, his muscles almost in a spasm. Several years had passed since he had seen the woman, but he recognised her immediately. The hair, the nose, the eyes, the expression on her face.

  He was slightly overcome.

  A sound from below roused his attention. Wasting no time, Robert guided the woman’s head over the desk and rested it on her arm
. He guessed that she would wake within an hour.

  The documents on the table were jumbled. He scanned the loose sheets quickly and immediately found what he needed. If necessary, he would destroy everything, but ideally he’d just take some.

  Any evidence leading to the tomb would be potentially fatal.

  He found himself taken by the top sheet. The scope of the find worried him. If the academic was as good as she thought she was, then it couldn’t be ruled out that she already had what she needed.

  The young monk scanned each page quickly and satisfied himself only three were of direct significance. He rolled the ancient paper carefully and placed the relevant sheets inside his jacket.

  He needed to move quickly. Leaving the room, he headed toward the door and immediately stopped. He had seen the priest lock it before proceeding down to the vault.

  He grimaced.

  He was locked in.

  Matt was full of questions.

  ‘Wait, so you honestly believe that King Solomon actually existed? And that he was buried right here?’

  Jura smiled. ‘Matthew, many of history’s greatest legends form as a result of mistranslations and ignorance. Much of what is myth and legend was once viewed as truth. Just because we’ve never seen them with our own eyes does not mean they do not exist.’

  The priest from Portugal concurred. ‘What is important to understand is that much of what was written in the Old Testament grew up on old oral tradition. Whatever was originally written down was potentially corrupted. And even that translated into Greek or English was not necessarily accurate.’

  Jura nodded again. ‘Many historians accept the fact that Moses never parted the waters of the Red Sea. He may, however, have crossed the Reed Sea.’