The Templar Heresy

36

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.’