The Templar Heresy

58

The largely unmade road that Bronson and Angela had followed from the castle took them back to the village of Al Muthallith, but well to the east of the road that led up to the castle.

Knowing that the opposition had clearly been following them, despite Bronson’s inability to detect any surveillance, they had decided to take an entirely different route to their new destination, just in case someone was waiting near that road junction. Bronson drove as quickly as he could, trying to put some distance between themselves and any possible pursuit. Once he was sure that no car or motorcycle was following them, he reached into his jacket pocket and handed the camera to Angela.

‘I just hope the pictures came out,’ he said, ‘or it will all have been for nothing.’

Angela switched on the camera, opened up the gallery and flicked back through the recorded images until she found what looked like the start of the sequence. Then she stared at the screen as she inspected each picture in turn.

‘Well,’ she said after a few moments, ‘I can’t pretend that they’re the best photographs I’ve ever seen, but two of them are quite sharp and clear. And that’s thanks to the camera, not you, obviously.’

‘Bearing in mind the situation I was in I’m delighted any of them came out. So, what does it say?’

‘Well, not anything that I would have expected,’ Angela said, looking puzzled. ‘It’s just a name, and a name that I don’t recognize. Does “Mont Sanes” — I think it’s meant to be two words rather than one — mean anything to you?’

Bronson furrowed his brow in concentration, then shook his head.

‘Not immediately, no. Is that all there is?’ he asked.

‘That’s the only lettering, just those two words,’ Angela replied, ‘but there’s what looks like a Templar cross below it, and a Christian cross above it, so perhaps it could be the name of a chapel or a church. I suppose the “Mont” is French, though that doesn’t really help us work out where the place is, because Old French was the language of the early Templars and they probably gave French names to most of their important locations, irrespective of where they were located. Just like Krak de Mont Real, in fact. That’s only called Shobak Castle now because Shobak or Shaubak is the name of the biggest nearby village.’

Bronson didn’t reply for a few moments. The name Angela had read out had sparked some kind of faint recollection, and he was doing his best to remember what the link or reference was. Then it came to him.

‘The second word,’ he said. ‘Can you spell it for me?’

‘S A N E S, Sanes,’ Angela replied. ‘And that doesn’t sound very French to me.’

Bronson nodded.

‘Okay. Here’s a thought. Names change over the years in any language, but there is one place I’ve heard of which might just fit. If so, it’s one word, not two, and in modern French it’s Montsaunès.’

‘Which is where?’

‘In France, oddly enough, in the foothills of the Pyrenees. What’s there is probably the most enigmatic of all the known surviving Templar buildings, just as peculiar as Rosslyn Chapel, though of course Rosslyn was built well after the Templars were purged. The village is very small — one of those blink and you’ve missed it kind of places — but in the mediaeval period it was the site of one of the most important Templar commanderies in the whole of Europe.’

‘A what?’

‘Commandery — a fortified monastery.’

‘And you know this how?’

‘I read about it. I’ve read a lot about the Templars, because they’ve always fascinated me.’

He paused for a few moments, collecting his thoughts and dredging his memory for what he could remember about the place.

But then Angela held up her hand and stared at the screen of her mobile.

‘We have a signal here, believe it or not,’ she said, ‘and I’ve just found a website that explains a bit about the village and its history. It was built in the twelfth century,’ she continued, ‘and it was intended to be a part of a major defensive line on the northern slopes of the Pyrenees, built as a protection against incursions by the Moors who had occupied the whole of the Iberian Peninsula at the height of their powers. By that time, of course, the writing was on the wall and they were being driven slowly to the south as the Reconquista gathered pace. The first battle to drive out the Moors took place early in the eighth century, but the process of reconquest wasn’t completed until virtually the end of the fifteenth century, and there were always fears that the Moorish forces might strike back.

‘The commandery disappeared centuries ago, after the order was purged at the beginning of the fourteenth century, and the only thing that’s now left is the Templar chapel, which is called the Église Saint-Christophe des Templiers, and you’re right about that. It is a weird place. The website explains that it looks like a chapel from the outside, but the interior is nothing like any other supposedly Christian place of worship. The whole thing is painted inside, but the decoration is really unusual, with a mixture of strange symbols and designs. The author of this website claims that nobody has ever worked out what any of it is supposed to mean, and it’s one of the most enduring mysteries that the order left behind it.’

Bronson nodded at her.

‘That all strikes a chord,’ he said. ‘I think the ceiling’s painted with stars and things like that. Is there a picture on that website?’

‘There is, but on this phone it’s so tiny you can’t really make out anything clearly.’

Angela glanced down at the roadmap as they passed a signpost, just to confirm that they were still going the right way.

‘We’re just passing Tamiya,’ she said, ‘and there’s a junction coming up in about half a mile or so. You need to stay on this road and head for a place called Ma’an, where we can pick up the Desert Highway. I presume you still want to head for Aqaba?’

‘Yes, because it probably won’t take them long to work out what that clue in the tunnel means either. When they do, I’ve no doubt they’ll do exactly what we’re doing, and head for France. This has been a race between them and us ever since your archaeological colleagues found that inscription, but this really is the final furlong. Whoever gets there first will find whatever secret is hidden in that chapel, and I’ve no intention of coming second to those bastards.’

Angela nodded.

‘That works for me as well,’ she said. ‘So where exactly are we heading?’

‘For the King Hussein International Airport,’ Bronson replied, ‘where we’re going to buy tickets on the first available flight that will get us to a southern French airport, ideally Toulouse or Carcassonne.’

‘But,’ he added, ‘I definitely want to be standing in the northern foothills of the French Pyrenees before midnight.’