The Parchment (20 page)

When his tour of duty was over, Gerard asked that he be admitted to full membership in the order. Gerard had no way of knowing that his request had set in motion a series of events that would result in tragedy both for him and for the Order of the Temple.

A
turab
blew through Jerusalem the night of Gerard's initiation into the Order of the Temple. Legend had it that the hot winds of the
turab
blow dust into one's heart, making it difficult to judge right from wrong.

Several hours after dark, the Templars stationed in Jerusalem filed into the dimly lit chapel adjacent to their commanderie. Gerard and three other initiates walked behind the others. The flickering candles on the altar cast eerie shadows on the chapel walls. Gerard wondered if the shadows belonged to long-dead Templars returning to help regenerate the order.

Gerard's thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of the seneschal of the order, a brooding hulk of a man with broad shoulders and protruding eyes. A curl in his lip left him with a permanent sneer. The seneschal administered the lands of the order and was responsible for its myriad financial interests. Behind the seneschal walked Jacques de Molay, the grand master of the order. Unlike the seneschal, de Molay was not a prepossessing man. He was short
and wiry with thinning gray hair and beard. But while he did not display a commanding physical presence, de Molay did radiate a sense of inner conviction and integrity that was easily felt. But it was de Molay's eyes that caught Gerard's attention. A mixture of all the colors of the rainbow, they could probe deep into the darkest corners of one's soul.

The seneschal motioned for the Templars and the initiates to be seated. For several minutes, the congregation sat in silence. Finally the seneschal stood up and signaled the initiates to approach the foot of the altar. He took a thurible and incensed Gerard and the three other initiates. A cloud of smoke filled the church.

When the senechal put down the thurible, the grand master ascended to the top step of the altar and sat on a wooden chair. One by one, the initiates walked up the steps and knelt before de Molay to profess their vows. When it was his turn, Gerard walked nervously up the steps. As he knelt before the grand master, a strange feeling came over him — a feeling of intimacy, of personal communion — that somehow their two destinies were linked. Gerard did not know then just how inextricably bound their destinies would become.

The grand master's voice interrupted Gerard's thoughts. “Why do you come before me, Gerard de Montelambert?”

“To ask that I be initiated into the Order of the Poor Knights of Jesus Christ.”

“Then pronounce your vows before all in this chapel. Gerard de Montelambert, do you vow that henceforth, all the days of your life, you will obey the Bishop of Rome and the Grand Master of the Order of the Temple in all earthly and spiritual matters, so that you may better serve our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ?”

“Yes, Grand Master, if it pleases God.”

“Do you vow that henceforth, all the days of your life, you will live chastely in your body, denying yourself carnal relations with women so that you may better serve our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ?”

For a moment Gerard remembered the prostitute who had bathed him near the Jaffa Gate. “Yes, Grand Master, if it pleases God.”

“Do you vow that henceforth, all the days of your life, you will live without property and will protect and defend Christian pilgrims who travel the roads of Palestine?”

“Yes, if it pleases God.”

After the final vow had been taken, de Molay recited the paternoster and anointed Gerard's forehead, eyes, and hands with holy oil.

“Gerard de Montelambert, this anointing is a sign that you have become a member of the Order of the Temple. We promise you the food and water and the poor clothing of the order, and much pain and suffering.”

When the initiation ritual was over, the assembled Templars rose from their seats and began to recite a strange litany.

“Listen to the words of Jesus.

“I am the light to one who seeks the path.

“I am the mirror to one who looks deeply.

“I am the door to one who seeks entry.

“I am the road to one who journeys far.

“I am the food to one who hungers.

“I am the healing to one who is mortally wounded.

“I am the clothing to one who is naked.”

When the Templars had finished, the grand master continued reciting the litany.

“I am the ineffable one.

“I am the one who is beyond comprehension.

“I am not who I appear to be.

“When you come, then will you understand who I am.”

The grand master's words confused Gerard. “I am not who I appear to be. When you come, then will you understand who I am.” It must be a riddle, Gerard thought — but how was it to be unraveled? Did the words refer to Jesus? Jesus was beyond knowing — beyond understanding. Everything said about him is a metaphor. Jesus was fully God, but he was also fully a man. He lived and died here in Palestine. If Jesus was not what he appeared to be, then who was he?

During his first months as a Templar, Gerard mainly accompanied pilgrim convoys traveling back and forth along the Jaffa-Jerusalem road. On several occasions, Gerard was assigned to ride on special assignments — twice to Acre and once to the Templar Castle at Mount Pellerin.

As Easter grew close, attacks by Muslim bandits became more frequent and more daring. On the Wednesday of Holy Week, a large pilgrim caravan was attacked within sight of the walls of Jerusalem. The Muslim bandits captured a group of children who had been sent by the Bishop of Jaffa to sing at the Easter Mass in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. The capture of the children's chorus shocked Jerusalem. A combined force of Templars and Knights of St. John rode out in pursuit.

The Muslim bandits were tracked to a rocky canyon north of the town of Bethany. The Saracens outnumbered the Templars several times over. While the size of the Saracen force was its greatest strength, it also proved to be its greatest weakness. Confident that the crusaders would not pursue so large a force, the Saracens violated two fundamental principles of desert warfare; they unsaddled their horses for the night and they allowed them to graze some distance from their tents.

The commander of the pursuing force divided the knights into two groups. The first group — mostly Knights of St. John — attacked the sentries and drove the horses into the desert. When the Saracens saw what had happened, they abandoned their camp and ran out into the desert to retrieve their horses. A second group of knights — mostly Templars under Gerard's command — disguised themselves as Saracens. They stole quietly into the camp and freed the children. Once the children were safe, Gerard ordered his men to shed their disguises and kill as many of the bandits as could be found. The Patriarch of Jerusalem personally thanked Gerard for his valor in freeing the children's choir.

The priest stood at the pulpit. “We celebrate today the feast of John the Baptist, he who prepared the way for the Lord. The two men must have shared deep bonds of friendship and trust. In a very real
sense, John's beheading marked the beginning of Jesus' ministry. Today we pray that John will guide us as we seek God's truth.”

Gerard's mouth was dry from nervousness. He had asked to speak with the grand master after Mass. Because of the feast day, however, the liturgy was taking longer than Gerard had expected.

When the Mass had finally ended, Gerard genuflected before the altar and walked outside. By custom the grand master was the last to leave the chapel. Gerard waited anxiously in the courtyard. Although it was only an hour after sunrise, the heat had already begun to make distant objects shimmer and appear unreal and impermanent. Gerard was glad that he had not been chosen to ride patrol today.

When Jacques de Molay finally emerged from the chapel, he squinted for a moment until his eyes adjusted to the sunlight.

“Grand Master, I asked to speak with you. It will only take a moment.”

“Yes, Montelambert. We can talk better in my quarters.”

Gerard followed de Molay through the courtyard and into a for-tress-like building that housed records and documents concerning Templar properties in Palestine. The grand master's quarters were cool and spacious. Except for a large cross, the walls were bare.

Walking over to a wooden table, the grand master poured two cups of water. “The sun is hot already.” He handed Gerard one of the cups.

“Thank you.”

The grand master sat at his desk. “Why did you ask to see me?”

“Five years ago on my sixteenth birthday, my Uncle told me a legend that has been passed down in our family for centuries.”

The grand master looked amused. “I am surprised at you, Gerard. Every day, I am besieged with reports of wondrous apparitions, discoveries of sacred relics, and yes, family legends. A Templar should be skeptical of such matters — not bring them to the grand master of the order.”

“The legend of the Montelamberts is not about apparitions or relics,” answered Gerard. “It is a story about the Jewish people and the Romans who conquered them.”

“If you must, Gerard, tell me this family legend of yours.” The grand master looked impatiently at Gerard.

“When Herod's Temple was besieged by the Romans, one of my ancestors, a merchant named Evardus, was selling wine to the Roman army. After concluding his business, Evardus left the Roman camp and rode west to the port of Jaffa. As a Christian, Evardus could not bring himself to witness the slaughter of the Jews who remained on the Temple Mount. After a time, he came upon an old rabbi lying unconscious in the road. When Evardus revived him, the rabbi told Evardus a strange tale.”

The grand master poured Gerard another cup of water.

“The rabbi said that a copper scroll lay buried under Herod's Temple — in the ‘stone of life.’ The rabbi whispered something more, but Evardus could barely hear it. All the merchant could make out were the words ‘vessels and records of the Jewish people.’ When he returned to Gaul, Evardus wrote down all he had seen of the Roman siege and what the rabbi had told him.”

De Molay smiled. “Ah, now I see. You wish permission to search for the copper scroll.”

“Yes. When she could not deliver me, my mother promised the Virgin Mary that if I lived, she would see to it that I followed the destiny God had provided for me. I believe that God has destined me to find the copper scroll. The ruins of Herod's Temple are close by the Templar barracks. Let me try, Grand Master.”

De Molay frowned. “During the pain of childbirth, it is easy for a woman to suppose that statues talk. Forget this silliness that you are destined to find this scroll.”

“My father once explained to me the meaning of the two bars on the Cross. One points up to God and the heavenly Jerusalem, while the other parallels the ground and this earthly Jerusalem. I know that I must balance the two.”

“Your father is a wise man, Gerard. But balancing the two Jerusalems is sometimes a difficult thing to do.”

“I realize that.”

“If I give you permission to search for this scroll, I know you will do your utmost to find it. But I am not sure that giving you permission is the best thing either for you or for the order.”

“I know that I can keep this balance.”

Jacques de Molay was silent for a moment. “I often rode into battle with your Uncle Edouard. Because of my admiration for him, I will give you permission — but only on one condition.”

“What is that, Grand Master?”

“Your first responsibility must always be to the order and to your fellow Templars. You must shoulder your normal patrol duties and whatever else is required of you. This is the condition.”

“I will not abuse your trust.”

“Well, then, let us see if this legend of the Montelamberts has any substance to it.”

THE C
PPER SCR
LL

E
DOUARD WAS RIGHT
. As Gerard stood before the ruins of Herod's Temple, he realized that no one person would ever be able to search through this vast and bewildering subterranean world and discover something so small as a scroll. The only clue was that the scroll was buried in the ‘stone of life’ under the Holy of Holies. Yet the Romans had so devastated the Temple in 70
A.D
. that it was virtually impossible to trace the original boundaries of the Sanctuary.