Julia Navarro - The Brotherhood Of The Holy Shroud

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A fire at the Cathedral of Turin and the discovery of a strangely mutilated body attract the attention of Italy's special Art Crimes Department. For the fire is only the latest in a troubling series of arsons and break-ins at the cathedral, which houses what millions believe to be the authentic burial shroud of Jesus Christ.
A cop as well as an art historian, department chief Marco Valoni leads a crack team of investigators in a race to solve a crime he's certain is about to shock the world. Someone is planning to steal the Holy Shroud, and Valoni's only suspect-a mystery man who bears the same scars as the unidentified corpse-is currently serving out a sentence in a Turin prison.
Following a trail that stretches from the humble meeting places of the earliest Christian communities to the highest councils of the Vatican and the boardrooms that rule the world, Valoni and his associates will find themselves in the cross fire of an ancient conflict forged by mortal sacrifice, assassination, and secret societies with ties to the shadowy legend of the Knights Templars.
Spanning centuries and continents, from the storm-rent skies over Calvary, through the glories of Byzantium and the intrigue and treachery of the Crusades, to the modern-day citadels of Istanbul, New York, London, Paris, and Rome, The Brotherhood of the Holy Shroud is a provocative page-turner of the highest order-one that will challenge you to believe.

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"And if I do not agree?"

"You are free not to agree, my lord. We have made no threat against this empire, or yourself."

They stood in silence. Balduino tried frantically to weigh his dwindling options as Saint-Remy waited calmly.

At last the emperor fixed his gaze on the Templar and in a barely audible voice spoke but four words: "I accept your offer."

Bartolome dos Capelos handed his superior a rolled document, and Saint-Remy in turn extended it toward the emperor.

"This is the agreement. Read it; it contains the terms that I have spoken of. Sign it and our servants will bring the gold we have brought with us and put it where you command."

"Were you so sure I would agree, then?" moaned Balduino.

Saint-Remy remained silent, though his eyes never left the emperor's. Balduino picked up a quill, affixed his mark, and sealed it with the imperial seal.

"Wait here," he told the Templar, and sighed. "1 will bring the Mandylion."

The emperor left the room by a door hidden behind a tapestry. A few minutes later he returned with a carefully folded piece of cloth.

The Templars unfolded it enough to ensure that it was the authentic Mandylion. Then they folded it up again.

At a gesture from Saint-Remy, the Scottish knight Roger Parker and the Portuguese Templar dos Capelos left the room and swiftly made their way to the entrance of the palace, where their servants were waiting.

Pascal de Molesmes, hovering in the antechamber, observed the coming and going of the Templars and their servants loaded down with heavy sacks. He knew it would be futile to ask what they were carrying, and he was bewildered at not having been called by the emperor. Time and again he considered entering the room with the others, but something counseled prudence. He feared provoking Balduino's wrath, and so he waited and watched.

Two hours later, with the sacks of gold deposited in a secret compartment hidden in the tapestry-covered wall, the Templars took their leave of the emperor.

Balduino would keep his promise of silence, not simply because he had given his word as emperor but also because he feared Andre de Saint-Remy. The superior of the Templar chapter in Constantinople was a pious man, devoted utterly to the cause of the Lord, but in his eyes shone the man inside, a man whose hand would not tremble if he had to defend that which he believed in or which he had vowed to do.

When de Molesmes entered the royal chamber, he found Balduino pensive but calm, as though a weight had been lifted from him.

The emperor informed him of the sad fate of his uncle the king of France and how, in view of the circumstances, he had accepted a new loan from the Templars. He would pay off the debt to the Venetians and Genovese and bide his time until good King Louis was once again at liberty.

The chancellor listened with concern, sensing that Balduino was concealing something, but he said nothing.

"Then what will you do with the Mandylion?" "Nothing. I will keep it in a secret place and wait for Louis to be freed. Then I will decide what to do. This may have been a sign from our Lord to prevent us from sinning by selling his holy image. Call the ambassadors and tell them that we will deliver over to them the gold we owe their cities. And call in the Comte de Dijon-I will tell him of the fate of his king."

4" Before the assembled knights of the chapter, Andre de Saint-Remy carefully unfolded the shroud, watching the image of the full body of Christ appear. The Templars fell to their knees and, led by their superior, began to pray.

They had never seen the shroud in its entirety. In the casket in which the Mandylion was laid in St. Mary de Blachernae, all that could be seen was the face of Jesus, as though it were a painted portrait. But there before them now was the figure of Christ with the stigmata from the torments he had suffered. Lost in prayer and meditation, the knights were unaware of the hours that passed, but night was falling by the time Saint-Remy rose and carefully folded the shroud and went with it toward his room. A few minutes later he sent for his brother Robert and the young knight Francois de Charney.

"Make ready for your departure as soon as possible." "If you allow us, sir, we could depart within a few hours, when the shadows of night will protect us," suggested Robert.

"Will that not be dangerous?" asked the superior.

"No, it is better that we leave the house when no one can see us and the eyes of those who may be watching us are overtaken by sleep. We will tell no one that we are leaving," de Charney put in.

"I will prepare the Mandylion against the rigors of the journey. Come for it, no matter the hour. You shall also take a letter from me, and other documents, and deliver them to Grand Master Renaud de Vichiers. You must not deviate from the road to Acre for any reason. I suggest that several brothers accompany you-perhaps Guy de Beaujeu, Bartolome dos Capelos-"

"Brother," interrupted Robert, "I beg you allow us to go alone. It will be safer. We can lose ourselves in the woods and fields, and we will have our squires with us. If we go alone we will arouse no suspicions, but if we go with a group of brothers, then the spies will know that we are carrying something."

"You will be carrying the most precious relic of Christianity-"

"-which we will defend with our lives," interrupted de Charney.

"Then let it be as you say. Now leave me, I must prepare the letter. And pray, pray that God may guide you to your destination. Only He may warrant the success of your journey and your mission."

There was no moon. Not a single star illuminated the vault of the sky. Robert de Saint-Remy and Francois de Charney crept stealthily from their chambers and made their way to the apartment of Andre de Saint-Remy. Silence filled the night, and inside the fortress the other knights were sleeping. On the battlements, a few Templars, with the soldiers in their service, stood guard.

Robert de Saint-Remy gently pushed open the door of his brother and superior's chamber. They found him on his knees praying before a crucifix on the wall.

When he became aware of the presence of the two knights, he rose and, without a word, handed Robert a cloth sack of no more than middling size.

"Inside, in a wooden coffer, is the Mandylion. And here are the documents you are to take to the Grand Master and gold for the journey. May God be with you."

The two brothers embraced. They did not know if they would ever see each other again.

Young de Charney and Robert de Saint-Remy pulled on their Saracen robes and, melting into the blackness of the night, hurried to the stables, where their squires awaited them, calming the impatient horses. They gave the password to the soldiers at the gate and, abandoning the safety of the chapter's fortress, set out on the road to Acre.

35

SLOWLY, MENDIB PACED BACK AND FORTH across the jail's narrow courtyard, enjoying the sunshine that warmed the morning. He had heard enough to know that he had to remain alert, and the psychologist's and social worker's nervousness had aroused his suspicions further.

He had passed the medical examination, he had been observed at length by the psychologist, and the warden had even sat in on one of those exhausting sessions in which the doctor made him react to those stupid stimuli they baited him with. At last, the parole board had signed the papers for his release, and all that was lacking was the final approval by the judge-ten days at most, and he would be free.

He knew what he was to do. He was to wander through the city until he was certain he wasn't being followed, and then he was to go to the Parco Carrara. He was to go there for several days, observe the community's contact Arslan from a distance, and not drop the note to set a meeting until he was sure that no one was watching.

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