The Last Templar

Chapter 63

Vance's words hung over them like the blade of a guillotine. His eyes took on a life of their own as they glared at the small, shiny object held in the palm of his hand. Then his expression darkened. "It's amazing, isn't it? Here we are, two thousand years later, with everything we've accomplished, everything we know, and yet this little talisman still rules the way billions of people live . . . and die."

Sitting in his damp wetsuit, Reilly felt a shiver of unease. He darted a glance at Tess. She was looking at Vance with a rapt expression that Reilly couldn't read.

"How do you know this?" she asked hesitandy.

Vance tore his eyes away from Reilly's crucifix and turned to her. "Hughes de Payens. The founder of the Templars. When I was in the south of France, I found out something about him that surprised me."

The French historian's derisive remarks came rushing back to her. "That he was from there, from the Languedoc—and that he was a Cathar?"

Vance's eyebrows shot up and he tilted his head, clearly impressed. "You've done your homework."

"But it doesn't make sense," she countered. "They originally went out there to escort Christian pilgrims."

Vance's smile remained in place, but now there was an edge to his voice. "They went out there on a mission to retrieve something that had been lost for a thousand years, something that had been hidden by the high priests from Titus's legions. What better cover for them—and what better way for them to have access to the site they were interested in— than to claim to be die-hard supporters of the pope and of his ill-conceived Crusade? You see, they weren't about to try and fight the Church blindly—not before amassing enough power and wealth to be able to survive such an impossible challenge. The Vatican had a long history of ruthlessly suppressing any challenge to its one and only true faith—entire villages, women and children massacred by the pope's armies for daring to follow their own beliefs. So they hatched a plan. To bring down the Church, they had to have the weapons—and the influence—to make it happen. And they almost made it. They found what they were looking for. As the Knights Templar, they became hugely powerful militarily and immensely influential. They were very close to coming out of their spiritual closet. What they hadn't counted on was that they—not just the Templars, but all the Christian armies—would be kicked out of the Holy Land before they'd had a chance to launch their attack on the Church. And when that happened, ending with Acre in 1291, they didn't only lose their power base—their castles, their army, their dominant position in Outremer—but they also lost their prize, the weapon that would allow them to blackmail the Vatican for two hundred years, the object that would empower them to fulfill their destiny, when the Falcon Temple sank. And from that point on, it was only a matter of time before they were wiped out." He nodded slightly before framing them with a fervent stare. "Only now, with a bit of luck, we may be in a position to finish their work."

Suddenly, the silence was shattered by a loud and terrifying crack as the head of one of Vance's men suddenly exploded outward, the force of the impact tearing his body back off its feet and throwing him against the ground in a bloody mess.