Philip Kerr - Dark Matter

“There have been many stories about what that treasure amounted to. Some have said it was the treasure of King Solomon that was Sheba’s tribute. Others that it was the Holy Grail. Some believed they found the embalmed head of Jesus Christ. But it was none of these. Neither was it the Ark of the Covenant, the lance that pierced Christ’s side, nor the blood line of Jesus Christ.

“It was the texts themselves that were the treasure, for these were nothing less than the original Greek texts of the lost Gnostic Christian texts, including those gospels that were regarded as heretical by the Apostle Paul, and which were later suppressed by the early Church, for these books prove that Christ was only a man, that he did not rise from the dead, and that the established Christian dogma is a blasphemy of the truth and evil teaching. That is why the Templars were accused of heresy and blasphemy: for possession of these forbidden books of the New Testament. And for translating them from Greek into Latin. That is the book of the devil they were accused of possessing. That is why they were persecuted throughout Europe and burned at the stake.”

Newton looked thunderstruck, as if he had discarded darkness and clothed himself in light.

“That is the treasure,” Sergeant Rohan continued triumphantly. “That is what the kings of Christendom tried so earnestly to find: the Templars’ book. And that is why we hate the established Roman Catholic Church, for it is the Romans who have suppressed this truth for a thousand years. Many Huguenots were descended from Templars. And therefore we have a double reason to hate Papists, for they have persecuted us twice.”

“But what other gospels can there be?” I asked.

“Did not Christ have twelve apostles?” Sergeant Rohan said scornfully. “And yet there are only three Gospels by apostles that are in the New Testament. Where is the Gospel of Philip, the Gospel of Thomas, the Gospel of Peter, the Gospel of James? For that matter, where is the Gospel of Mary Magdalene?”

“Mary Magdalene,” repeated Newton. “Is there such a thing?”

“Aye,” said Sergeant Rohan. “It was she who told the apostles the things that were hidden from them, that only Christ himself told her. But it is Peter you will want to read most of all, sir. For it is he who speaks strongest against the Christianity of Paul. It is Peter who refers to Jesus as a dead man. And learning this, you will know the truth at last, and be free.”

“But where are these books?” Newton asked hoarsely.

“They are contained in one book in the library at the Tower,” said Sergeant Rohan. “A copy of the book came to the Tower with the Templars who were imprisoned there, and was hidden under the altar in St. John the Evangelist’s Chapel that is now a library. The safest place for the book was thought to be right under the noses of their persecutors. And there it has stayed ever since.”

“But where is it now?” asked Newton. “For the altar is gone.”

“On the tribune gallery, above where the altar once stood, is a window. In the window is a simple wooden box in which you will find the book. Many enlightened men who were in the Tower have read the Templars’ book, for knowledge of its existence was only ever given to those who could not take the book away, and who were themselves educated or persecuted, or both. Sir Thomas More, the Wizard Earl, Sir Walter Raleigh, Sir Francis Bacon, to name but a few.”

I could hardly believe what I was hearing; and I only wished that Miss Barton could have been present to hear what the Sergeant had to say, and see the look of keen fascination that illuminated Newton’s face. I might have pointed to him and asked her if she still believed her uncle was the good Anglican she thought. “What?” I said. “No gold at all?” Which drew me a look of contempt from my master.

“Not all men who have known of the Templars’ book were interested in the treasure it contained,” said the Sergeant. “Sir Jonas Moore knew of the book, but he was not interested in truth. Only in gold. He found what gold there was, in the box with the book. But he thought there might be more.”

“And what of the Saltire Cross?” asked Newton. “And Orion the hunter?”

Sergeant Rohan looked puzzled, and took another swig from the bottle.

“Was there not some significance in these for the Templars?” persisted Newton, who was referring to the cross that Mister Pepys had shown to him.

“Only that when Templars were buried, their arms were crossed across their bodies saltireways,” said the Sergeant.

“That is common enough,” said I.

“Aye, now. But not when the Order of Templars was first created,” insisted the Sergeant. “As for Orion, in the Greek his name means a mount or mountain.”

“ Oros ,” said Newton. “I did not think of that. Yes, of course. There have been several times during this case when I have been as blind as Orion. Only now does the darkness truly clear and I see all things in the light.”

“Those upon whom the Spirit of Life descends,” said the Sergeant, “when they are bound together with the power, will be saved and will become perfect and they will become worthy to rise upward to that great light.”

“What is that scripture?” asked Newton.

“The Secret Book of John,” answered the Sergeant. “The light is not the son, but Almighty God the father.”

Newton nodded. “Amen,” he said quietly.

“There is a Muhammadan mosque close by the Temple Mount in Jerusalem,” said the Sergeant. “It covers the rock upon which Abraham prepared Isaac for sacrifice, and is the spot from which their prophet ascended into Heaven. I have not seen it. But I have heard how there is an inscription there which says, ‘O ye people of the Book, do not exceed the bounds in your religion, and speak only Truth of God. The Messiah, Jesus, the son of Mary, is only an apostle of God, and his Word which he gave unto Mary, and a Spirit proceeding forth from him. Therefore believe in God and his apostles, and say not Three. It is better that you should do so. For God is only one God, and it is far from being his glory that he should have a son.’”

“Amen indeed,” murmured Newton. For a moment he seemed almost overcome. Then he said, “I little thought when I came here, Sergeant, that my eyes should be opened so wide. All my life I have endeavoured to look upon the light of God, and I thought no man could see more of his truth than I do myself. But it is perhaps appropriate that it should be a man like you who reveals more of Him unto me. For God, who best knows the capacities of men, hides his mysteries from the wise and prudent of this world and reveals them unto babes. The wise men of this world are too often prepossessed with their own imaginations and too much entangled in designs for this life.”

“Read the book,” urged the Sergeant, “and you will know more.”

The very next Monday, Newton went straight to Whitehall to plead Sergeant Rohan’s life before Their Lordships; only they were not disposed to be merciful, despite Newton’s eloquent entreaties, and upon the appointed day, Rohan and Vallière went to their probably well-deserved deaths, with mobs jeering them all the way to Tyburn as amidst the atmosphere of a bear-baiting. Neither Newton nor I attended the executions of these two criminals, but Mister Alingham, the Tower carpenter and undertaker who did, said that the hangman was so drunk that he tried to put a rope about the neck of the clergyman who went with them to their deaths, which doubtless would have amused that heretical pair of Protestants.

No men died so unpitied, for it was the common conception that these two had been involved in the very plot to kill the King which Nostradamus had prophesied in the pamphlet Titus Oates had given to us. When Rohan and Vallière were at long last dead, their heads were fastened on two poles and pitched on the north end of Westminster Hall, to the great satisfaction of the people who saw it.