The Dark Monk by Oliver Pötzsch, Lee Chadeayne Page B

been through a lot in its long life.
    “At that time, I just skimmed the book,” Simon said, “but I remember the words. Tell me more about these…Templars.”
    Jakob Schreevogl sat down again and sipped his coffee. It was a while before he began to speak. Outside an ice storm beat against the windowpanes.
    “Their full name is a bit longer—The Poor Knights of Christ and of Solomon’s Temple. Much that we know of them is, perhaps, only a legend.” The patrician settled back in his chair as he continued speaking. “One thing is certain, however. The Templars were the most powerful and richest organization that the world has ever known. They started out as a small order of knights during the Crusades whose actual purpose was to protect pilgrims on their way to Jerusalem. Until then, the order was a unique mix of knights and ascetic monks. But through clever tactics and the right support, the group spread across all of Europe in a few decades. Branches were everywhere. If a person wanted, he could purchase a bill of exchange in Cologne and redeem it in Jerusalem or Byzantium. The order answered only to the Pope and was thus, in fact, sacrosanct. Through clever financial policies, the Templars gradually became richer than kings or emperors, and that would finally be their undoing…”
    “What happened?” Simon asked curiously, pouring himself another cup of coffee.
    “Well, it happened as it so often does.” Jakob Schreevogl shrugged almost apologetically. “The French King Philip IV had designs on their fortune. In the dead of night, he was able to arrest every Templar in all of France. He accused them of engaging in sodomy and satanic rites, bought witnesses, and extracted the necessary confessions through torture. Finally, even the church dissociated itself from the Templars. The pope could no longer support them and, in the end, let them fall. Their last Grand Master, to the best of my knowledge, was burned at the stake in Paris, and within a few years, the mightiest lords and masters of Europe became powerless victims. The Templars who were unable to go into hiding in time were pursued and killed. And all that after they had helped to shape the destiny of Europe for nearly two hundred years!”
    “And what happened to their money?” Simon asked. “The French king no doubt grabbed that, didn’t he?”
    The patrician grinned. “Only a small portion. The rest disappeared and has never been found—gold, jewels, religious relics…It is said that the Templars hid it somewhere. Some people think they took it to the New World; others say the Holy Land or the British Isles. Whoever finds it can no doubt buy himself any throne in the world.”
    Simon whistled through his teeth. “Why have I never heard anything about this?”
    Schreevogl was shaken by another fit of coughing. After a moment, he continued. “Because the church didn’t want its complicity in the matter exposed. The noblemen, too, politely stayed silent and confiscated the Templars’ territories. Only a few people, like Wilhelm von Selling, broke their silence.”
    The medicus nodded. “But that still doesn’t explain what this Templar battle cry is doing in the Saint Lawrence Church.”
    Schreevogl hesitated. “I once heard that the Saint Lawrence Church used to be a Templar church,” he said finally.
    “A Templar church? In Altenstadt?” Simon almost choked again.
    “Yes, why not?” the patrician said, shrugging. “The Templars had branches everywhere. And isn’t there even a Templar Lane in Altenstadt?”
    “You’re right!” Simon cried. “The narrow little Templar Lane just before the bridge over the Schönach. It’s strange, but I’ve never wondered about that street’s name…”
    “You see? But certainly the priest of the basilica in Altenstadt can tell you more. There have to be records from the little church next door. If they’re not in the Saint Lawrence Church itself, then they’d be in Saint Michael’s Basilica.