The Templar Chronicles (19 page)

The Preceptor shook off his sorrow and focused on the discussion. “What do we know about the sorcerers?”

Cade stalked away from the desk and began to pace. “Stone left some information indicating he thought it was a small group known as the Council of Nine. While I wouldn’t have put them at the top of the list on my own, everything we’ve uncovered so far ties neatly with the information Stone left for us. The group’s leader, Simon Logan, has been a fringe player for some years, but has never shown this level of ability before.”

“Another reason to believe they’re getting outside help,” said Duncan.

“But for what? What do they want? Are they crazy enough to think they can take on the entire Order?”

Cade shook his head. “They’re not after the Order. They’re after the Spear of Longinus.” He outlined his conversation with the shade of Julius Spencer and used the visions he’d experienced in the Templeton cemetery as corroborating evidence. “If I’m going to be effective against our enemies, I’m going to have to know more about where and how the Spear is being stored,” he said to the Preceptor.

Surprisingly, Michaels agreed. “I’ll do better than that, Commander. I’ll show it to you myself.”

*** ***

Like many of the other commanderies across the country, the one in Bristol extended below ground for several levels. It was there that much of the community’s actual work took place; monitoring world events, training Templars on the latest high-tech weaponry, and the like. Here, hidden from view, lay the true work of the Order. The underground levels contained classrooms, laboratories, gymnasium facilities, a shooting range, and even a full-scale replica of a two-bedroom house used for live-fire exercises was tucked away in a large cavern on the third level below the surface.

Duncan and Cade were about to find out that below that level there was another, one that neither man had been aware of. It was the home of the
Custodes Veritatis,
the Guardians of Truth.

As they walked, the Preceptor brought the two men up to date.

“The Guardians have been in existence since just after World War II. Operating completely independently from the Order’s normal chain of command, they have been charged with one purpose - protecting the Order’s Holy Relics at all cost.

“At any given time there are only fifty active members. They are selected as much for their ability to deal with the extra natural as they are for their physical capabilities. The majority of them also have extremely high reserves of personal faith. About 20 percent of them have been ordained.”

They went down several levels to where a long corridor stretched out before them. As they continued walking, Duncan asked, “Are they all stationed here?”

“No, though the majority are simply because this is where the Reliquary happens to be located at the moment. We move its location every few years, just to be on the safe side.

“The commander of the unit is always a senior officer known for his loyalty to the Order and his devout belief in the Lord. He reports to the North American Preceptor exclusively. Stone had been in command for the last ten years and was probably one of the best, if not
the
best, ever to have held the post.”

A set of offices were on either side at the end of the hall; their interiors dark, their doors locked. Peering through a window, Cade noted a standard office setup, complete with a calendar showing that day’s date on the wall. All of them appeared perfectly normal, which Cade figured was precisely the intention.
Hide in plain sight
, he thought with respect to whoever had designed the place.

Reaching the end of the corridor, the Preceptor removed a chain from around his neck. On it were a standard metallic key and an electronic pass card. He inserted the key in the lock of the last office on the left, opened the door, and motioned for Cade and Duncan to follow. Without turning on the lights, he moved across the empty room to another door on the far side of the office. He held the pass card up to a small black box mounted next to the door. There was a soft beep, and the door opened inward.

Another corridor was revealed on the other side.

At the end, a guard station stood before a vault-like security door. There were two guards on duty, and one of them exchanged the daily password with the Preceptor, despite knowing him on sight. The Preceptor was then asked to place his hand in a small sensor unit mounted on the wall next to the door. A moment passed as the security device compared the digital image it held of his palm print to his actual hand. When the test was completed a chime sounded. Michaels stepped up in front of the door, stated his name in a clear voice, then followed that with a long series of numbers.

A few seconds after he finished speaking the door before him slid open without a sound.

“This way, gentlemen,” he said.

On the other side of the door was a command center. Computerized monitoring stations were arrayed in a semicircle facing a large observation window, which in turn looked out over a room the size of a football field. Three men manned the workstations, and Cade could see several others moving about the floor of the room just beyond, where scores of items were sealed in special protective cases.

The Preceptor turned to them with a look of pride.

“Welcome to the Reliquary,” he said.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

“This is incredible,” Duncan whispered, and Cade had to agree.

It
was
incredible. On either side of them, vacuum-sealed chambers mounted on individual pedestals held artifacts both ancient and modern. From where he stood Cade could see Veronica’s Veil, Moses’ staff, a habit worn by Mother Teresa - the list went on. It was a veritable treasure house, even if only from a historical perspective. If just half of the things said about these items were true, then it was a collection that was absolutely priceless.

And full of power.

In the hands of the wrong people, people with the knowledge of how to harness that arcane power, many of these objects could cause widespread slaughter and destruction. It was no wonder the Order had locked them away for safekeeping.

Cade wandered among the rows for several more minutes, fascinated by what he saw. At last he turned to the Preceptor, a question on his lips.

“The Spear?”

The Preceptor smiled, anticipating the question.

“This way. It has a room of its own.”

A side gallery was situated to the left of the main floor, and they found a watch captain on duty there. The captain had the Preceptor sign the logbook, then walked with him farther along the edge of the room until they came to a set of highly polished double doors. Here the Preceptor submitted to a retinal scan. When it was concluded, the system beeped once, and the doors opened.

As the doors slid open, the interior lights automatically came on, revealing a small room with a long, narrow, steel-reinforced glass display case in the center. The Preceptor held out a hand, indicating that they should enter.

Cade stepped forward. Inside the case, on a bed of white silk, was the head of a Roman lance. The blade itself was made of iron and was several inches in length, with a winged shape and an ornamental pin inserted down its center. Two additional wings had been added at the base and were tied to it with dark leather straps. The wood of the shaft looked new, and he assumed the original had long since been lost, but the blade had been remounted on a perfectly crafted length of polished oak some nine feet in length.

Peripherally, Cade saw Duncan genuflect, then sink to one knee in homage to the Spear.

Obviously his teammate was convinced of the Spear’s authenticity, that this was indeed the very weapon that had pierced the side of the Messiah, but Cade himself was not so certain. He didn’t have Duncan’s faith and therefore didn’t take the provenance of the weapon at face value. To test it further, he triggered his Sight.

Looked at through that perspective, the head of the lance was bathed in a brilliant golden glow, a glow so bright that Cade had to turn his face away to shield his eyes from its intensity.

Returning his vision to normal, Cade stepped away from the display case. Turning, he found the Preceptor watching him closely.

“Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Stop doubting, and believe,” the older man said softly.

Cade didn’t need to be a biblical scholar to recognize the passage regarding the Apostle Thomas, but he pretended he hadn’t heard it. He wasn’t about to argue faith with a man who hadn’t walked the paths he’d walked, hadn’t seen the things he’d seen. The thought of a weapon with that kind of power in the hands of the Necromancer made his skin crawl. To have it fall into the hands of the Adversary was unthinkable.

Duncan finally arose, his impromptu prayers done, and rejoined them by the door. “What now?” he asked.

Cade caught the Preceptor’s eye. “In the end, Stone probably told them what they wanted to know, you realize.”

The Preceptor nodded. “Which means they’ll be coming for the Spear.”

“And anything else they can get their hands on,” Cade replied.

“So do we move it now, while we have the chance?” Duncan wanted to know.

Cade shook his head. “While the final decision is up to the Preceptor, I’d say no. We have adequate defenses here, and we know what we are up against. Moving the Spear simply puts us at a disadvantage. If there is a mole, and he were to leak the information, we’d be on unfamiliar ground, with only a small force to protect the weapon in the event of an attack. Staying here means we know the territory, can better anticipate and, therefore, prevent any action the Enemy might take.”

“I agree,” said the Preceptor. “How do you suggest we prepare the defenses?”

Cade gave it some thought. “Based on the attack in New York, we know they are conjuring up darker forces and using them to breach the gates. I’d expect them to do the same again; without knowing we’re on to them, they’ll continue using the same strategy they’ve employed in that past.” As he spoke, Cade headed back toward the control room, the other two men half a step behind. “We’ll need to be ready to deal with the supernatural side of their forces. First we get the troops we have on immediate alert. For all we know, the Council could strike at any moment, so we want to be protected to some degree in case they do. In the meantime I would suggest activating the rest of Echo Team and possibly Bravo as well. Once they get here, we should have enough men to hold the commandery indefinitely, provided we can neutralize their sorcery early in the game. We also need to get our own mystics into position ASAP. Have them raise the wards around the property, make it as difficult as possible for the Council to enter the grounds.”

“Very good. I’ll turn defense of the complex over to you, Knight Commander,” said Michaels. “I’ll take active control of the
Veritatis
soldiers and coordinate the defense of the Reliquary with you as we move forward.”

The defense of the Spear had begun.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Hours passed, and there was still no sign of the enemy. Daylight gave way to night. During the day Cade made regular visits along the defenses, to see that the men were ready.

Still, the Enemy did not come.

Frustrated by the long wait, Cade decided to take a walk. He hoped the exercise would clear the haze from his thoughts, refocus his attention on the matter at hand. Without any clear destination in mind, he reentered the house and began to make his way through the halls, lost in thought.

A short time later he found himself in a quiet corridor somewhere in the depths of the lower levels. Around him, all was silent. Ahead of him, a soft light spilled forth from an open door at the end of the hallway.

The light beckoned.

Curious, Cade moved to investigate.

As he got closer, he could see that the door opened onto a small chapel.

It was a simple affair; several rows of wooden pews standing before an altar. A large wooden crucifix hung on the wall above. Off to the left, in a small alcove all its own, was a statue of the Blessed Virgin Mother hemmed in by scores of votive candles. It was their light that had captured Cade’s attention.

He paused in the doorway, considering.

It had been a long time since he’d spoken to God, longer still since he’d set foot in a place of worship. It was a situation he rarely considered consciously, though the irony of the truth of it in conjunction with his nickname among the rest of the Order was not lost on him. But there he stood in the doorway, too tired even to think up an excuse for turning away.

So instead, he stepped inside.

He walked between the rows of pews, running his hand along their polished wood surface. He skirted the altar, refusing to look up at the face on the cross, and moved to stand in front of the statue of the Virgin. Her gentle face looked down upon him, her expression frozen forever in compassion and pain, hope and loss. The light of the votive candles at her feet reflected off her smooth alabaster skin, softening the hard angles and cold stone.

Looking down, Cade noted that one candle in the center of the group remained unlit.

On impulse, he picked up the taper lying nearby and lit the candle.

“For you, Gabbi. A light to guide you home.”

His voice sounded overly loud in the quiet of the room.

His pain was echoed in that emptiness.

The statue gazed down at him in sympathy and kindness but without any answers to the depths of his loss.

Moving away from the alcove, he took a seat in one of the pews facing the altar, feeling out of place, a stranger in a strange land. Once, long ago, he’d believed in the divine grace of God, of his intended plan for the salvation of his people. He’d been a faithful churchgoer, finding comfort in the Sunday ceremonies, a balm for the chaos he faced each day on the force.

All of that had been shattered on a summer night seven years ago.

For the first time since entering the room, Cade allowed his gaze to rest on the figure nailed to the crucifix above the altar. Accusations and anger filled his heart as he stared at the face of the one known as the Lamb of God.