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AGNUS DEI
Templar Knots + Krosses
By Andrew David Doyle
iUniverse, Inc.
Copyright © 2012 Andrew David Doyle
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4759-5259-9
Chapter One
Knights' Templar—The Grand Master's Notes
The two figures scurried with great haste through the quiet city streets, negotiating the inner network of tall buildings and smaller structures that formed the central city façade of old Barrack Street. The couple were hastily making their arduous way through the hidden back streets and alleyways of Dundee, looking for a safe haven in order to shelter themselves—not just from the horrendous downpour of rain, but from a contingent of fanatical Germans who were in hot pursuit of them and their hidden secret.
The duo were in the process of making a beeline for the obscure offices of the Order, known locally as the Fisher Kings, when they came to an abrupt halt just two hundred metres from the Fisher building's entrance. It was then that a single gunshot could be heard echoing from somewhere inside the building nearby.
Kemp Hastings, being the taller of the two, clutched a medium-sized, red, leather satchel, as if his life depended upon it, and hastily stepped backwards in anticipation that a stray bullet was making it's way inbound toward him and his partner-in-no-crime as yet, who was somewhat smaller in stature and was clearly of female build, who was struggling terribly to keep pace with the long gait of the biblical investigator. In his haste, as he was taking extra-long strides in a rather excited state of mind.
Madelyn Linn, on the other hand, was exhausted, having been literally dragged from their car and forced to sprint through three hundred puddles of shitty rainwater that lay in her non-negotiable path. And she was literally being pulled along the street by her investigative partner, feeling that she was being treated like more of a hostage as opposed to being a willing participant; subsequently being physically whipped between a million parked cars in the process.
If that was not enough for Madelyn to contend with, she was also subjected to at least three sporadic showers induced by more than a zealous set of idiot drivers who wanted to wash pedestrians as they drove by, and all that, since leaving the car park just a few hundred metres away. It was five o'clock in the morning and time was ticking on. Therefore, to coin a simple, Scottish phrase, 'it was cold and it was pishing doon with rain, and time was of the essence'.
Madelyn took a further three steps, then stopped abruptly in her tracks, momentarily tugging and pulling at Hastings' long, army style coat in desperation.
"Stop, Kemp, or at least bloody slow down you big ape will you. You are like a deranged convict escaping from Alcatraz. My short legs cannot keep up with your long, streaky legs. I am only five foot six, you know! And by the way was that gunshots I heard a moment ago?" she remarked, while still grasping with her wet gloves at his long, and extremely soaked, trench coat in a last ditch effort to hold him back a few extra seconds in order to catch her breath. Or perhaps even more so, in an effort to stop him from sprinting away entirely.
Mother nature, in her best Scottish tradition, was just being a complete bitch and she had battered the city of Dundee for three consecutive days by sending torrents, upon torrents of rain water down on the unsuspecting city of discovery. Hastings waited a moment or two before answering Madelyn's question.
'Not sure Madelyn, but if it was then we are in some really deep shit, can you believe this bloody weather.'
He responded whilst slowly stepping back into the shadows of the doorway. A few metres away and the rain water had started to clog up the many streets and avenues, not to mention the many flood drains and support pipework that ran underground the complete length and breadth of the city, which was now, flowing to capacity as the ever increasing density of water simply added more volume to the already struggling flood and drainage system.
This was clearly an older and very out-dated water management system that was now failing again, and had begun to overflow, leaving a multitude of small pools and water puddles in almost every conceivable dip and recess, waiting to dissipate into the awaiting mass of the River Tay.
The River Tay itself being an expansive body of water that flows eastwards and meets the cold north Sea as it passes along the esplanade of the city between the counties of Angus and Fife—separated by two and a half miles of deep water and straddled by two very substantial bridges for road and rail crossings.
The rain puddles were a certain nightmare for anyone trying to walk the aquatic streets, let alone attempting to run their full length at any increased pace. Hastings turned and paused for thought then eventually spun a full 360 degrees in order to face Madelyn. It was then that he realised what a complete arse he had just been.
"Sorry, Darlene, sorry, sorry. Ooops, I mean, Madelyn!"
Hastings momentarily corrected himself as he responded to his water-drenched partner whilst remaining mindful that Darlene Gammay was in the process of re-arranging her complete existence on the planet. The teacher, Madelyn, was removing any reference to her old self as a result of some recent life-changing experiences or biblical events that were captured by a novelist in the works of 'The Silent Apostle'. Thus having endured a certain nightmare that had left her psychologically scarred for life, and she had recently changed her name by deed poll. Hastings was continuously struggling with the name change.
The life changing event that had left her with an inexplicable tattoo spread across her back for ten days and nights with no rational explanation as to why or where the phenomenon had originated from, suffice to say she had become an inexplicable host of an religious event that was still being investigated by the vatican.
Hastings had decided to reduce his pace down to a slower rate, obviously for the benefit of his new partner who was indeed 'only' a member of the opposite sex and was perhaps not as physically fit or indeed built as males are. But, in the main, females were said to be slightly more emotionally intelligent. He took a deep breath, and then spoke.
"We don't have much time, my dear girl. We have to secure this ledger somewhere safe, a place far away from any further interference and especially out of sight from those 'Krouts'. And, before anyone realises that this document has been removed from its once safe haven. Let alone the fact that we actually have custody of it. This is not good for our health, Madelyn! If we are not careful, we could end up in the morgue just as quick as Freddy, the curator at Restenneth Priory did. Especially now. If we are caught with this little ditty in our possession, those Germans will stop at nothing, until they have the document in their possession, and we are quite dead and pushing up the worms. They are outright, bloody fanatical about biblical things and anything to do with The Knights' Templar's ancient documents. And this bloody, damn rain is not helping us much!"
Hastings took a fleeting glance toward the churchyard, then spoke.
"But then again, Maddy, it may be just the answer to our many prayers, and perhaps could buy us a little more time." he said, and appeared to be extremely agitated and perplexed, especially since it had only been twenty-four hours since his contact in the local archive office in the Priory building had died under very suspicious circumstances indeed, and, who was apparently found clutching a 13th century protective cover flysheet, which appeared to be an older facsimile copy of a Templar inventory document.
The document in question was hailed to be one of the most recent acquisitions lists or holdings inventory belonging to the Holy Order of the Knights' Templar, and was an addendum to an ancient document dating back to at least the year 1133. But had been updated in the years 1812 and 1947, respectively, and of which, had been secreted within a library of some rather older books much earlier in history, dating nearer to the year 1681, according to the library KT reference tag '003.1415.'
Hastings was momentarily alerted by a flash of light from an upper window followed by another gunshot which sent an instant cold fear racing up through his active mind. He took another deep breath, and extracted a handkerchief from his inside jacket pocket and wiped his face, then took a long stare into the middle distance then tilted his head sidewards.
'We need to move quickly Madelyn'. He said and continued to explain why they had been caught up in this deadly game of cat and mouse. 'This document, this actual thesaurus inventory, has pages which have been neatly placed and lodged together between pages 28, 30 and 32 and of which in essence, is a book that explains how to don medieval armour in exacting detail.
The 'Templari Thesaurus' in its original format had been formally scribed by the hand and quill of no other than one Knight in particular, 'Hugues De Payens' himself, a man who was better known as the first Grand Master of the Holy Order of the Knights' Temple Saint John, circa 1128, and this is what makes it so precious.'
Madelyn pulled at the collar of her long jacket and extended it up over her neckline and then shook her head with great vigour momentarily sending tiny droplets of rainwater in all directions, apparently not paying too much close attention to Hastings in his ramblings.
She felt rather like a drowned rat, her clothes were wet, her mascara was running and her feet were drenched and very cold. She even felt chilled down to her very inner core, and was by any stretch of the imagination extremely pissed off, and wanted a cup of tea more than anything else she could imagine on the planet at this time.
Somehow Hastings had dismissed her as a working partner and was making headway almost leaving her behind in his wake. He was on a mission from God and possessed an unhealthy drive of effort to rid himself of the deadly dossier whilst simultaneously trying to remain alive.
He grabbed Madelyn's hand and led her out of the doorway, then suddenly stopped again; he then shrugged his broad shoulders and moved forward with more of a military pose. A few moments later, they approached the crossroads junction to the east of Barrack Street and scanned the adjacent Meadowside area.
Madelyn gazed on and took a good long look at Kemp Hastings as he assessed their situation. He was easily five foot ten, strong athletic build, and had obviously been a fit and healthy soldier in his hay day. His hair was brown and wavey and cut not too short but yet not too long and very well kept. His skin tone was fresh apart from being saturated with copious droplets of rain water. As far as Madelyn was concerned this was the man of her womanly dreams.
Kemp Hastings possesses the most piercing blue eyes you could ever encounter, eyes that sent anyone he stared directly at, into an almost sexual frenzy or conversely, where his colleague was concerned heaven. His chiselled jawline and strong check bones made most good looking men turn away in acute jealousy, and he was easily a candidate for 'the groom of the year award'.
Madelyn let her daydream linger on a little bit longer, she knew him quite well, and yet although he was normally a very benign soft gentle kind of man, recent events had triggered his alter ego character to come into the forefront, and his mission was now survival. She felt somehow protected by him especially now with these echoing gunshots and hostile weather, and he had stepped in front of her to shield her from potential stray 9mm projectiles.
The rain had begun to ease up a little and was now more of a drizzle than a raging torrent. He listened intently, then waited a moment or two longer before glancing over to his left hand side. He targeted a point where the graveyard of the 15th century cemetery sat in all its grey, dull glory, and they converged at the street corner. All seemed to be quiet.
The cemetery appeared even more sinister somehow, more abandoned in time than he had remembered. It resembled a grey scene that could be easily described as a location found within a Mary Shelley novel—the Victorian look of despair and desperation about it. The last time he had reasons to venture beyond the deathly gates was in a bit more of a relaxed atmosphere whilst paying his respects to the dearly departed. Now it was very different especially with an unscheduled visit to the field of the dead, which was completely different under this veil of secrecy, and could be deemed almost traumatic.
He motioned Madelyn to wait under another doorway and urged her take refuge from the inclement weather, just as he tucked the soft red satchel further up under his great coat, then moved into a better position to observe the not-so-busy street.
He then glanced to his right side again, gazing over and across the main thoroughfare. It was relatively quiet apart from streams of water dribbling off the rooftops and cascading down over the many roofs and bonnets of the few parked cars that sat on the street. He then glanced off to his left and was staring directly at the Fisher King's doorway entrance.
It was then that he spied the red BMw parked awkwardly at the entranceway. The car had been fitted with an odd numbered licence plate. The vehicle itself having been parked half on the pavement and half on the roadway which appeared to be a haphazard attempt at parking. It looked cumbersome and the vehicle's driver was awkwardly shifting in his seat. The vehicle's hazard lights were flashing away to warn of its presence and he noticed the engine was still running—perhaps the driver was pending a quick getaway.
Hastings pulled himself back slightly into the cover of the shadows just out of sight of the driver, and observed from a safer distance just in case all was not as he wished for. The one occupant of the vehicle still unaware that Hasting's was less than fifty feet away and was in possession of something the driver would apparently quite easily kill for. His colleague had taken a corner position behind him and was using him as a kind of human shield, her Knight in not so shining armour.
Hastings had one of those uncanny gut instincts that somehow had alerted him. He just knew this was bad news as his gut flinched uncontrollably and he momentarily gulped a cold, hard globule of spit. He was sure that he had observed the BMW before, but thought it was an unmarked police car at first, and then he dismissed this notion having spied the foreign number plate. It was an Italian registered car and not very inconspicuous if you were evading the authorities or trying to remain incognito.
He pinched his lips, wiped his face, then made his way back to the doorway where Madelyn was standing. He gave her a fleeting glance then noticed how vulnerable she actually looked. He suddenly froze as a single cold spike and icy shudder ran the length of his spine, he looked at her again.
She was busy trying to do something constructive with her long hair, but it was futile, she looked a right proper state he instantly thought, then smiled unconvincingly at her. He knew deep down this was going to cost him dearly.
Her hair was dripping rain water and the many strands of her blonde locks had draped over her beautiful face, clinging in desperation to hide her young female looks. She was obviously cold and was shivering uncontrollably. He instantly felt guilty of treating her like a piece of additional luggage and placed an arm around her shoulders to comfort her, then he spoke.
'My goodness, Madelyn, I am so sorry. I have dragged you through the streets like a used shopping trolley, and in this damn rain too, don't worry though I will make it up to you, honest, I will, I promise. Hey, look at me! Smile, you look great! But for now let's secure this little treasure first, then, we can get the hell out of here and get something to warm us up. It's not safe to go into the FK building.
I feel they may have already had some unwelcome visitors and I do not think they were collecting the rent either, well, not just at this particular moment in time. Now c'mon, follow me, we must hide this inventory elsewhere. And I think I may just know the perfect place, over there Dr linn—let's go!" He exclaimed and pointed toward the graveyard entrance across the street.
"We can hide the parchment in there; look no-one would ever look for a book in a graveyard now, would they? you can pick any grave you wish young Madelyn. There are over two hundred and ninety to choose from".
He asked her again, then started walking quickly toward the entrance and almost slid through the stone walled gateway into the cemetery as his black leather brogues lost traction underfoot sending him into a moment of instability. With Madelyn in tow, he quickly recovered from his slip with the assistance of his partner and they made their way to the southern end of the bone yard.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from AGNUS DEI by Andrew David Doyle Copyright © 2012 by Andrew David Doyle. Excerpted by permission of iUniverse, Inc.. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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