The Lost Crown of the Knights Templar

36 Residue

At Wrichtishousis, Sam and Nina waited for their host to arrive. Purdue had invited them over to unveil a new artifact he had procured recently, and to celebrate Sam’s latest nomination for the World Media Awards’ Best Investigative Journalism award. After Jan Harris’ body had been retrieved from the Templar tunnels, her footage had been delivered over to Sam Cleave, whom she had named as collaborator on the exposé she was covering.

Between his careful editing and both their respective footage reels, he was able to compile an exclusive on the involvement of the Bilderberg Conference in a worldwide monopoly that manipulates the markets and political leaders to submit to a sinister, clandestine organization. A covert mass blackmailing of government systems to adhere to one master — finance.

“Looks like Mammon is alive and well,” Nina sighed.

“Look around you, love,” he told Nina. “We are right in the middle of it all.”

“Aye. Aren’t we lucky we have a High Priest as a friend?” she laughed, amusing Sam.

“Aye. And speaking of priests,” he said, lowering his voice. “They still have not been able to recover Father Harper’s body from the tunnels under Al-Aqsa.”

“You’re shitting me!” she gasped. “Sam, what if he is like… like Jesus or something?”

Sam chuckled. “Who knows?” He shrugged. “He wasn’t always a priest, you know.”

“Ha!” she giggled.

Purdue burst through the doors. “It is ready, friends!” he grinned shrewdly.

“Oh God, what is it this time?” she mumbled.

He led the two of them through the manor, out the backdoor, and into a newly constructed summerhouse of sorts, holding various relics of grandeur and age incalculable. The building boasted scorched stone to turn the rock masonry as dark as possible, and it was crowned with a dome-shaped roof of black slate. The rosewood doors sported old, crude, iron carvings of demon heads that unsettled Nina somewhat — her horrible experience had not yet faded to memory.

“Um, Purdue, if you don’t mind,” she said, “I don’t really want to see anything evil right now.”

“I do understand,” he replied quickly, “but please humor me. Trust me.” He posed at the front plaque. “This will be my collection of Occult relics from all countries and eras,” Purdue bragged, “but it is what is inside I wish to show off. Got it from some friends. They asked that I promise to show it to Dr. Gould. Apparently it was a promise to her that she would see it.”

Sam gently steered her forward to enter the spacious interior. Nina’s eyes immediately caught the biggest relic of all, positioned at the far end of the place, aptly named ‘The Throne Room.’ Her mouth fell open as she slowly approached the huge statue, glancing back at Sam and Purdue who stayed behind to relish her amazement.

Before her, cast in bronze, sat a topless woman. She was positioned precisely on a throne of crude metals, bolted in to hold her body fixed. “The same throne,” Nina marveled as she inspected every detail. “I wanted to see Toshana sitting on the throne.”

“Quite macabre,” Sam told Purdue. “Having your murdered girlfriend cast in bronze.”

“Not me. I know nothing, old boy. To me it is just a statue of an idol,” Purdue answered, shrugging. “I received the piece as a gift. Besides, they wanted the Crown of the Knights Templar to be kept from the world. What better way than to fashion it on a body and trap it inside a cocoon of bronze?”

“It’s in there?” Nina asked. “The actual Head?”

Purdue smiled and nodded, holding up his tablet’s infrared to prove it. Sam and Nina gasped as the x-rays revealed the mechanical cranium and its deformities under the metal.

“The Militum send their regards,” Purdue told Nina.

“They have assimilated into the Brigade Apostate, I hear,” Sam said. “They will fit in well.”

“God, I never want to see another goat’s head in my life,” Nina said. They laughed together, still limping and stitched, leaving the newly acquired idol in peace and quiet behind locked doors.

Nina sighed and asked, “Will I never be rid of the nightmares that goddamn thing gives me?”

Purdue slipped his tablet into his pocket without noticing the static interference that came from the crown of the statue. On the screen of the device, coming from the active head, appeared one word.

No.