The Templar Concordat (34 page)

The Templars, he said, were offering an alliance with the Vatican until the Pope’s death.

 “But you are not the Templar Master,” the Pope said flatly.

“I am not the Templar Master. I am the Marshall, and tonight I speak for the Order of Knights Templar.”

“And Templars have survived and thrived all these years, and nobody knows it? How?”  The Pope steepled his fingers and cocked his head sideways.

“We learned from the mistakes, big mistakes, we made in our first two hundred years. Those mistakes ended our public life. Like the Church, we have a long institutional memory, and value the lessons of the past.”  The Marshall spread his large hands. “And… we prayed for luck.”

“Pray? Pray?” Agretti could hold still no longer and stood at the head of the table, pointing toward the Marshall. “Idolaters and Satan worshippers. Apostates and heretics. Followers of Baphomet. I implore you, Holiness, do as our last Pope did and banish these hooligans.”

The Marshall and Pope exchanged glances, then looked at Agretti. “Later, Alberto, we’ll talk later.” The Pope held up a hand to silence him.

The Pope stood and began to circle the room. “Let’s be sure I understand this. You have me at a disadvantage here since I just learned about Templars today.” He looked squarely at Agretti, who studied his hands.                                             

“You,” he pointed at the Marshall, “are a Knight Templar. In fact, you’re the commander of Templar operations, a powerful man, I understand, and a member of a warrior order that everyone thinks died out in 1307 when the Pope and the French king got together, killed them off, and burned the last Templar Master at the stake. Right?”

“Correct.”

“But that wasn’t really the end of the Templars because they got away with their fleet, and all their gold and treasure. The younger knights got away, and only the older ones got caught. And then they just continued their operations underground using a bunch of different fronts. Right?”

“Essentially.”

“So, the Templars had pretty much established all the banking in Europe when the Pope and the king went after them, and they kept that business going, got into a lot more, financed all kinds of exploration and trade, amassed a huge fortune, and they also kept the warrior part going by hiring out as mercenaries under various names. Right?”

“Yes.”

“And all this continues right down to today?”

“Yes.”

“And nobody knows anything about it? Strange.”

“Well, most of our interests are held in holding companies, trusts, interlocking boards, cartels. Most of the people who work for us don’t even know it. Banking remains the core, and has been for a very long time. It finances everything else.”

“Heretics,” mumbled Agretti. “Heretics and blasphemers, then and now.”

“Now this Concordat thing.” The Pope pointed to the ancient manuscripts in front of Agretti. “The Pope and the king conspire to eliminate the Templars in the early 1300s, but forty years later, another Pope Clement finds the Templars and asks for help against the Germans. He doesn’t want anybody to know since everybody back then was sticking a knife in everybody else’s back. The Templars help him out, presumably in exchange for some favors. But then the next Pope tries to stick it to them again.”

“Yes.”

“But the following Pope wants their help again?”

“Yes.”

“That makes it an on and off thing with the Popes using the Templars?”

“Yes,” the Marshall nodded.

 “Now Pope Urban VI comes along and needs some muscle for his struggle with the anti-Pope in Avignon and the Western schism, but can’t really use the other kings of Europe since half of them are lined up with the anti-Pope. He doesn’t want to use his own troops since he doesn’t trust them, and they don’t trust him. Besides that, history calls him the Mad Pope. Nice guy. So he goes looking for a bunch of Ninjas? And comes up with the Templars. Right?”

“Not exactly.”

“Ok, but this time, the Templars and the Pope come up with an agreement, a Concordat, that says each Pope and Templar Master will decide if they want to ally. If not, then they leave each other alone. Right?”

“Yes.”

The Pope looked from the Marshall to Agretti. “This sounds crazy. Are you guys sure about all this?”

“Unfortunately, Holiness, it is true,” sighed Agretti. He tapped the leather folder. “All true.”

“So, each time there’s a new Pope, somebody like you,” he pointed at the Marshall, “comes along to make a deal on behalf of the Templars? But only if the Templars like the Pope? Both sides have to agree?”

“Essentially.”

The Pope took his chair again and asked, “And it’s been going on like this since 1385?”

Agretti could keep quiet no longer. “And the last Pope, our beloved Pope Pius, who gave his life… his life… for his Church in St. Peter’s… on Easter… that Pope refused any deal with the Templars.”

The Pope ignored him and continued. “Ok, I get the history, but what I don’t get is what are the Templars getting out of all this? I can see how it works for the Pope, but what do the Templars get? They have a pile of money, a successful banking operation, mercenaries for hire. They’re the secret conspiracy everyone keeps searching for. What can the Pope do for them? That’s what they had five hundred years ago, and who knows what they have by now.”

“Sir, the Templars have far-ranging interests, and take a very, very long view of history. Much like the Church does. Remember, we are almost 900 years old now. While we have lost the clerical aspects of a religious order we once had, we have a keen appreciation of the symbiotic relationship between the Templars and the Church. When the Church prospers, the Templars prosper. And the Templars believe the Church is vital to the survival of Western civilization. We appreciate that each helps the other. Where they once defended Christianity, their focus has shifted to a general defense of Western culture. That’s the culture we come from, and it’s the culture we need for our survival.”

“Symbiotic relationship? Western culture? Bullshit,” said the Pope, tossing his pen on the table. “Do I look like I was born yesterday? Just tell me what I have to do for the Templars. If this is a give-and-take, exactly what do I have to give?”

Now the Marshall leaned back. “Yes. Yes.” He could like this Pope. “The Church is all over the world. It has sources of information everywhere. It has its fingers in everything.  When they need it, the Templars will ask for information. They will ask for the use of various Church properties. They will ask for assistance from clergy. They will ask the Church to assist in recruiting Templars from various Catholic religious orders. They will ask the Church in different countries to support Templar organizations and interests. They will ask for assistance in financial transactions. They will ask for help manipulating political situations. They will ask for protection.”

“You ask for quite a lot. You ask me to compromise the integrity of a Church I am sworn to protect and lead. Quite a lot. And exactly what do I get in return?”

The Marshall took a breath and continued. “In return, you may call on the Templars to assist you much like one of the national intelligence networks. Similar to the CIA, MI6, or the KGB. And believe me, the Templars are a match for any of them. We can do whatever they can, and do it better.

“Right now, there is no organization in the West that knows Islamic terror networks better than the Templars. We have battled them nonstop since 1122. The fight that began in 711 when the Muslims crossed the Straits of Gibraltar has never stopped. The latest attack is right out there in St. Peter’s.  Islamic terror is at war with the Vatican, the Church, and all of Western civilization. Not Islam as a whole, but a faction that has always tried to force itself on the whole world, including Muslims. Nobody knows them better, nobody has fought them longer, and nobody has beat them more than the Templars.

“Beyond that, the Templars will volunteer information when we know something of value to the Church. We will also act on our own when we see the interests of the Church threatened. You will have full deniability.”

“Deniability? This is nuts. And if I refuse?” asked the Pope.

“If you decline, the Knights Templar wish you luck for your papacy, and I will immediately leave the Vatican. The Templars will have no further contact with the Vatican while you live. Nothing. To put it bluntly, pray for luck because you’re on your own.

“In any case, here’s something for free,” the Marshall said. “A very powerful and patient organization has been trying to destroy the Church for a thousand years. Not just the Church, but all the West. The Hashashin. They were founded as assassins to fight the Crusaders. And believe me, they are very good. We have been battling them since we were founded in 1122. You won’t hear about them because they don’t want you to, but you will see their fingerprints all over most of the terrorist organizations in the Middle East, and many in Europe.”

The Pope smiled. “You mean they don’t operate under their own name, but use a bunch of fronts… like, maybe the Templars use a bunch of fronts?”

The Marshall laughed. “Yeah, except we’re on your side and they want you dead. We think they are behind the Vatican bombing. In fact, we’re sure of it.”

The Pope thought about the recent series of killings of Middle Eastern men in Rome and other European cities. The long arm of the Templars? But some questions are better not asked.

“You said both parties had to agree to cooperate with the other.” The Pope turned to Agretti. “Is that what the Concordat says, Alberto?”

“Yes, Holiness.”

“If I say yes, do we have a deal?”

“If you say yes, we have a deal.”

“How long do I have to reply?”

“We would like an answer tomorrow. I presume you want to think about it.” The Marshall nodded to the folder Agretti clutched. “That’s what is says. If you agree, both you and the Templar Master will document it by adding your personal endorsements to that Concordat, and also to the one in Zurich. The Templars keep their copy, and the Vatican Secretary of State keeps yours. As you have seen, the endorsements are there for each Pope and Master who came to an agreement over the years.”

The Pope drummed his fingers on the table and stared into the Marshall’s eyes. The Marshall calmly returned the stare.

Agretti began to sputter, but the Pope silenced him with a look.

“Let me think on this.”

The Marshall nodded.

“But before I start thinking, who is this Master you keep talking about?”

“That is something you will learn, if you accept the offer.”

“And I imagine I will learn who you are also?”

“That’s it.”

It was 1:00 am when the Marshall stood and shook the Pope’s hand. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Pope Dominic. I mean that. I think we can work together.”

“Likewise, Sir. Please convey my compliments to the Templar Master.”

That had gone very poorly, thought Agretti, very, very poorly.

Switzerland - Friday, April 17

One week after Jean gave Callahan the list of materials, equipment, and supplies she needed, a truck drove up and unloaded every single thing she had requested. They even sent a chemist to work on the ink and the dyes.

“Not my place to say,” the chemist said when Jean asked who he worked for. “You’ll have to talk to Callahan.” He took over the chalet laundry room, set up his lab, and started cooking up the ink and dye recipes Jean gave him.

They finalized the Latin for the treaty with some unknown Latin expert on a private Internet chat line. Jean was good, but whoever she was dealing with was better.

“This guy knows his Latin, and knows his history,” Jean told Marie.

“Oh, I can assure you he does. He certainly does.” If Jean and the Archivist ever met, it would probably be love at first sight.

Jean began practice runs of the treaty on modern paper to see how it looked, and one page after another ended up in a crumpled ball on the floor when lines were just too long or too short, a word had to be changed to balance the look of the page, or a sentence had to be redone to position key words in the area of the page unreadable to the naked eye, but visible under special light filters. She couldn’t just write the treaty, but had to put each and every word in just the right spot.

The biggest problem was the one and only piece of Twelfth Century parchment, so their first attempt at the treaty was their first, last, and final attempt. The margin for error didn’t exist. One single mistake the first time was failure. Jean wondered about her fate if that happened, but it was a strong motivator to do the best work she had ever done.

Perhaps the trickiest part of the operation was aging the parchment. It already was eight hundred years old, but the real treaty had its ink applied eight-hundred years ago, and everything aged together. This forgery was an application of ink on top of the aged parchment. So the page had to be treated after the script, gilding, seals, and scrollwork were all applied.

When Jean went down to the laundry room, the chemist and a man with a long pony tail were ripping pages from an actual Twelfth Century bible, a real Twelfth Century bible, experimenting on them, and then throwing them in the trash. Where had they stolen that? It could never be replaced.