The Spear of Destiny (4 page)

  “So would I,” said another.

  “Ok. Well….” Dennis began to his new audience, ”The spear was originally a Roman legionary standard issue spear belonging to a Roman legionary called Gaius Longinus. Longinus worked with his legion in Judaea until his eyesight began to fade, it actually sounds today like he had cataracts, but of course the Romans would have no way of dealing with this affliction, anyway, sorry I’m going off the point….”

  “No it’s very interesting,” one listener said, “please continue.”

  “So Longinus is almost blind and ends up only able to perform light duties and one day he gets a task which for him would be life changing, he’s asked to assist in a crucifixion. Now it’s a Friday and the Jewish Sabbath was Saturday so the executions had to be finished by midnight so the Roman tradition was to break the crucified’s legs, unable to support the upper body any longer the condemned would suffocate and die within fifteen to twenty minutes. When it came to Christ’s turn the blind Longinus told his centurion that the man was already dead. To prove it Longinus or his centurion thrust the spear into Christ’s side emitting a flow of blood and water, St John 19;34,

The blood splashed Longinus’ eyes and he was cured. ‘
This truly is the son of God’
he declares and is converted. Shortly after this he leaves the army and travels the province with his spear telling all he meets his story. Arrested for his faith he angers the Governor and has his teeth and tongue ripped out before he is beheaded and the spear disappears from history.

  It reappears some time before 286AD and is carried by a black Roman commander called Maurice during the reign of the emperor Maximian. Maurice’s entire legion, known as the Theban because they were conscripts from Egypt, of six thousand six hundred men were all Christians. This was extremely rare in ancient Roman history. The army was strongly pagan and remained so until the Emperor Constantine. Anyway the Theban legion led by Maurice, Candidus and Exupernis based in the east was ordered to Gaul, that’s France today, to assist with rebels in Burgundy. In Burgundy the legion was joined by the Emperor and once the rebel uprising was quelled the emperor ordered the killing of all civilians. Horrified at these instructions the christian legionaries refused. The Emperor was furious and ordered the legion to be decimated, that being every tenth man to be put to the sword, six hundred, as an example. The rest of the legion were not moved by this and soon the Rhone flowed with the blood of the entire legion. This whole event occurred in Aguanum, Switzerland. St Moritz in Switzerland is named after Maurice.”

  Dennis took a sip of his champagne. As all good story tellers he gave his audience time to ingest his knowledge. He noticed the actor whose name he didn’t know was actually listening with great interest. When he was sure they were ready for him to go on he continued.

  “Next the spear passed to the Roman Emperor Constantine who carried the spear into battle against the rival Emperor Maxentius on the Milvian bridge over the Tiber in Rome. Losing the battle Maxentius fled with his army and the bridge collapsed and Maxentius drowned. His body was recovered and decapitated Constantine became the sole ruler of the West. Founding the city of Constantinople on the older city of Byzantium Constantine kept the ‘holy lance’ or as it is now known the ‘spear of destiny’ there.

  During the reign of the Emperor Otto III in Constantinople, sometime around the year 1000AD a Roman nail was added to the spear. In 1084Ad holy Roman Emperor Henry IV added a silver band. In 1350 Charles IV added a gold band over the silver one. In 1424 Sigismund had relics including the lance moved to Nuremburg.

  When the French revolutionary army in 1796 approached Nuremburg the city moved the collection to Vienna, Austria. Many Kings, Popes and Emperors added to it until we end up with what we see today.

  The Holy Roman empire was disbanded in 1806 and the treasures remained in the custody of the Hapsburgs.

  In 1912 Adolf Hitler saw the spear in the museum in Vienna and from that moment he became obsessed with it. Some say that the only reason he invaded Austria in 1938 was to capture the spear. Hitler kept it in St Catherine’s church in Nuremburg for six years believing the ancient legend that whoever owned the spear could not be defeated and held mystical, magical powers. He truly believed that his Nazi forces were now invincible.”

  Dennis paused again to allow his audience to catch up.

  “Then on April 30
1945, Hitler and Eva Braun commited suicide as an American Lieutenant Walter William Horn took possession of it. He gave it to American General George S Patton. The rest of the story you all know from the vignette. It was returned by the Americans and today resides back at the Hofburg museum in Vienna, Austria.”

  Dennis looked at Natalie.

  “What do you think?”

  “My head’s buzzing, trying to take it all in.”

  “Well I’m sure some of you have some questions you’d like to ask me about the spear and I’ll look forward to answering them but if you’ll excuse me for a minute, I need to use to use the bathroom. Too much to drink,” Dennis said.

  “That was fascinating,” the narrator said, “They didn’t include half of that knowledge for my part. I must get a copy of that magazine. Are you his wife?”

  “No. Peter and I are a couple. We’re not married.”

  “Oh I see. He’s a journalist isn’t he.”

  “Yes.”

  “And yourself?”

  “I’m an archaeologist.”

  “Archaeology? That’s wonderful,” the narrator’s wife said, “all adventure and treasure finding. What an exciting life you must lead.”

  “Yes it must be a bit Indiana Jones,” the actor cut in.

  “It couldn’t be further from the truth,” Natalie replied, “But they are great films aren’t they.”

Dennis was just drying his hands under the air dryer when his I-phone began ringing in his pocket. He fished it out, frowning at the display. It was his editor Tom Rogerson.

  “Hi Tom what’s up?”

  “Pete. Sorry. I know you’re at the premiere….”

  “That’s no problem,” Dennis knew the phone call must be urgent.

  “Pete I don’t know if you’ve had a chance to see the news but Gaddafi’s been killed.”

  “Which one?”

  “What do you mean which one?”

  “Well the whole family is called Gaddafi….Oh! You mean ’the’ Gaddafi.”

  “Yes I mean ’the’ Gaddafi, Muammar.”

  “What happened?”

  “He was caught by rebel forces. There was a NATO air strike on a convoy he was travelling in and he and others with him had to abandon their vehicles and they took refuge in a drain and were caught. I’m a bit sketchy about the incident to be honest Pete so I’ve sent the Sky news link to your phone. I know it’s Friday night but when are you next in the office? Is Nat with you?”

  “Yes she is. I’m actually in the toilet and as for the office, I did have plans for the weekend. Wouldn’t your usual newspaper reporters cover this event?”

  “Yes Pete, that wasn’t why I was ringing you. I want you to do an article for ‘the country’ focusing on the impact these events will have on others lives. Like the one you did after Saddam’s fall. You know the sort of thing. Look I’ll let you go so you can get back to that gorgeous woman. I just wanted you to know so you can keep up with events in Libya over the next few days. Enjoy your weekend, I’ll see you Monday.”

  The line went dead.

Dennis checked his e-mails, saw the Sky news link, saw that the Sky news report on anytime was fourteen minutes long, put the I-phone back to it’s screensaver, reached for the door handle, stopped, got his phone out again and quickly found the Sky news link.

  “Fourteen minutes,” he said as the report began to load, “Natalie is going to kill me.” 

Outside the museum the VIP’s had long since finished arriving and some of the news crews were packing up. Many of the reporters were now sipping coffee and hot chocolate on this chilly, late, October night.

  Kim Nguyen was talking to her camera crew, their equipment on the ground in favour of hot drinks when she heard the first parp from the Roman cornicen.

  “What the hell is that?” her cameraman put his coffee down and hoisted the camera onto his shoulder when he saw the legionaries that had rounded the corner. Nguyen was frantically thumbing through the multi page programme looking for Roman re-enactors.

  “I don’t remember seeing anything about this,” she said, “Are you filming?”

  “Absolutely,” Tom, the cameraman replied.

  “Live from the British museum,” Nguyen began reporting, “A group of Roman soldiers are advancing towards us and the museum in what appears to be a surprise spectacle put on by the organisers who have managed to keep it quiet from us,” the camera flashed back from the legionaries to Nguyen, “I have the schedule here in my hand,” she said holding it up for the watching world, “And there is definitely no mention of re-enactors in it. What else will surprise us this evening. Kim Nguyen reporting from the British museum.”

  Nguyen moved out of the way for the camera as the Roman re-enactors swept past her, about turned at a command from their officer, clearly a centurion, and marched towards the steps followed closely by the media with cameras and reporters giving chase.

  As they passed Nguyen she noticed the centurion, who was the only one of them not carrying a shield, had a strange bulge under his tunic. It seemed ridiculous but she imagined it to be a gun. Not a handgun but possibly a small machine gun, a ‘what were they called‘? She tried to find the words in her head.

  “That’s it! A sub-machine gun.”

She started to call out to her cameraman Tom when she realised the centurion was looking in her direction. She couldn’t see his face. They were all wearing shining masks that completely covered their features. She involuntarily shuddered. The masks had a chilling appearance. She shut her mouth and looked at the ground until she felt he’d looked away. Now she studied the legionaries and though they all carried shields she was sure they had similar if not the same strange lumps under their tunics. She grabbed Tom’s arm as he was filming, pulling him off balance and forcing the news camera off focus.

  “Kim! What are you doing?” he said, knowing they could edit out any bad film.

  “Tom. Stop filming. Have you stopped?”

  “Yes Kim. What’s wrong?”

  “Keep your voice down,” she said, “I know this sounds ridiculous but I think these men are armed.”

  “Yes they were,” he replied, “With swords and spears. Their attention to detail is very good.”

  “I don’t mean that. I mean I think they’re carrying guns. Under their tunics.”

  “Guns?”

  “Yes guns,” she said, glancing around to make sure no one else was listening. Tom was watching the re-enactors’ disappearing backs while searching for an answer.

  “Perhaps Um! Perhaps they’re police.”

She raised an eyebrow at him.

  “Since when have the Metropolitan police doubled as actors?”

  “Well ok not them then but maybe they’re security people who came with the spear. Austrian police or something.”

  “Possibly. But remember there was no mention of it in the schedule.”

  “Do you think something’s going down? Kim you really do have a wild imagination don’t you.”

  “I guess I spent too long dating Peter Dennis. I know one thing though.”

  “What’s that?”

  “We need to try and get inside in case I’m right.”

At the museum’s entrance the security guards in their black suits with earpieces saw the small band of Romans approaching. The head of security moved into their path and spoke into his headset to his supervisor who was sitting in front of a bank of television  monitors.

  “Yes I have them on visual,” the supervisor said, “Wait for instructions.”

He frantically flipped through his clipboard. There was no mention of a detail of Roman soldiers. He was watching them on the largest screen. They were very close to the entrance of the museum. On the other monitors he could see the guests now turning towards the approaching actors.

  “Sir I need a decision,” the head of security said into his earpiece.

The supervisor could see Nigel Phillips on one monitor craning his neck for a better view of the approaching legionaries.

  “Sir I need your decision.”

Now everyone in the great court was watching through the doors.

  “Let them in,” the supervisor ordered.

The glass doors were opened and the Romans marched in.

  “Good show Nigel,” the mayor of London congratulated him whilst clapping his hands.

  “Thank you sir. If you’ll excuse me….”

Phillips rushed up to the nearest security guard.

  “I haven’t ordered this! Who let these people in.”

  “My supervisor sir. They must have clearance!”

  “Clearance! Clearance from whom….? Then Phillips saw the Austrian ambassador nodding his way and smiling. Phillips smiled back as the realisation hit him.

  “Ambassador Schmidt has organised this as a surprise for us. That’s fine! I wish he’d told me but that’s fine. I’ll thank him after the performance.”

  Inwardly seething, Phillips put on a smile and joined in the applause as people moved away from the centre to allow the actors access. They marched in through the doors and stopped at a command from the centurion. Then at another command they turned and marched to various positions around the room. The centurion came on alone, people moving further back out of his way.

  “Their attention to detail is amazing,” someone near Natalie said.

  “All except the masks,” she replied, “Roman legionaries wouldn’t have worn them. They weren’t standard issue and were mainly worn by cavalry and usually only for exhibitions for re-enacting famous battles, especially Greek or Trojan.”

  “Oh!”

A girl moved forward with her mobile phone to video the centurion who deliberately kept his back to her. He paced around the glass pedestal holding the exhibit. Then quick as a flash he hoisted up his tunic and pulled out a semi-automatic machine pistol as did his men. He sprayed the ceiling of the great court as glass rained down. It happened so fast that the armed security guards didn’t have time to draw their weapons.