Truthseekers
Authors: Mike Handcock
Published by Rock Your Life
PO Box 333-56, Takapuna, Auckland 0740, New Zealand
www.rockyourlife.net
Copyright © 2015, 2016 Mike Handcock
The author asserts his moral rights in the work.
This book is copyright. Except for the purposes of fair reviewing, no part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, whether electronic, digital or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, any digital or computerised format, or any information storage and retrieval system, including by any means via the Internet, without permission in writing from the publisher. Infringers of copyright render themselves liable to prosecution.
This is a work of fiction. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.
ISBN 978-0-9941083-5-7
Ebook ISBN 978-0-9941083-6-4
Publishing services by Oratia Media Ltd,
www.oratia.co.nz
First published 2015 by Rock Your Life
This edition 2016
Printed in South Africa
Every beginning is some other beginning’s end …
— Dan Wilson, Semisonic
Contents
Chapter 33: Lake Superior (1927)
It was Hughes De Payan’s second trip to Rome in as many years. He thought he should be used to the smells by now, yet the sanitation of the big city always drew his senses. The Grand Master of the Knights Templar would have rather been at home in the beautiful and sweet smelling region of Champagne in Northern France. Yet his dedication to the fast-growing order, his relationship and vows to God and the Church and his personal affection for Pope Innocent II was worth it all, and the Romans did know how to make a good wine.
Standing a whisker over six feet, De Payan looked much taller. His mere presence made people take breath, men moving away in respect and woman flirting in admiration and many with ulterior motives. Part of his vows, chastity had been tried many times and never was he tempted although he found it odd now even that he was sixty four, a very old man at the time, that he was
more desirable now than he had been even fifteen years ago before his journey to the Holy City.
De Payan’s stare was strong, sandy hair now starting to grey at the temple, and a lined face showed inner strength and knowing. Even nobles paid him the utmost respect and showered him with praise. What no one saw was what De Payan saw. When his master’s robes were removed by the squire, his faithful servant of the past thirty years, who toiled long and hard for the nine years he and his fellow knights dug beneath the Temple of Jerusalem for countless hours each day, finally digging deep enough into the remains of Solomon’s Temple and to the crypt beneath where they found everything. Everything and more, than anyone could have imagined, yet nothing like what anyone thought.
When De Payan disrobed each evening he saw a scarred body, over forty scars visible, some ugly and constantly bruised from years of battles. Athletic yes, muscular as well as any twenty five year-old knight, yet every physical scar carried its partner, a mental burden, and for that De Payan the great warrior, explorer, entrepreneur and leader often sobbed at night. He could deal with the physical scars, even the pain that associated with them. What he couldn’t deal with was the death, the maiming, and the loss even though the cause was great. The cause for God.
Yet when he felt strong and complete as he did at that moment, he would smile and feel small inside. In the end all he wanted is what we all want – love.
“He is ready for you, Sir.”
A cardinal dressed in white and carrying a cross between his flattened palms had entered the waiting room.
De Payan gathered his gloves, straightened his tunic and strode through the door, following the cardinal down a hall and into a large room. The room was a meeting hall and it was as grand a place as it could have been. An artist was rendering one whole wall of the room. The stone floor was piled with rugs from the Middle East. De Payan seemed to recognise a few. He certainly did recognise the solid gold
candelabras, a spoil of a battle in the region we now know as Turkey. The stained-glass leadlight windows were fascinating, yet De Payan couldn’t help but feel the Pope’s designers really couldn’t interpret the drawings and shapes De Chancey, his good friend had given them.
“Ah my good friend Sir Hughes de Payan, it’s always a pleasure.” Pope Innocent II got up from a desk where he had been intently writing.
“Your Excellency,” De Payan smiled and bowed as was the way of addressing God’s representative.
The Pope turned his smile from De Payan to the cardinal and two guards standing by the door.
“You are no longer needed, Cardinal Mansoni. You may leave now, take the sentries and close the door behind you. I am not to be disturbed under any circumstance,” the Pope demanded
“Your Excellency, it may be best if I stay. I will take down any notes that may be required.” Cardinal Mansoni seemed a slimy being. There was almost a sigh from the Pope who knew the Church attracted these types, misfits in other walks of life. He often wondered how Mansoni had risen so high and seemed to have his beak in everything. Yet he smiled and simply said:
“No, you won’t be needed. Now run along.”
Mansoni acknowledged with what De Payan almost felt was a grind of his teeth. Mansoni turned, snapped at the guards and left, closing the doors just a little harder than he should have.
This left the Pope and De Payan left looking at each other from just over three metres apart. Both men drew breath yet De Payan was the first to speak.
“Seriously Gregorio, where do you find some of these guys? I could put him on a trebuchet and launch his slimy ass at the Ottomans if you like.”
A huge smile came to the Pope’s face and he squawked like a duck and started flapping his arms like wings, mimicking Mansoni’s storm out whilst pouting like a five year-old. Both men roared with laughter and came together in brotherly embrace.
“It’s good to see you, Hughes. You always cheer me up. Sometimes I feel like nothing more than a maid to these cardinals. It’s like I am constantly cleaning up after them,” smiled the Pope.
Gregorio Papereshi had been Pope for nearly four years. A native Roman, he had become friends with De Payan during his years living in France. They had exactly the same sense of humour and that seemed to bond them.
“I wouldn’t take that one for granted, Gregorio. He’s a friend and confidant of that other imbecile.”
On election for the papacy Innocent II was in fact in an unusual situation. There were in fact two popes elected. The second candidate, who called himself Anacletus, lasted a little while and then favour went to the now highly popular Innocent II, yet Anacletus still had his followers and still had desires for the papacy.
“Oh yes I know Hughes. I live with that everyday. It is one reason I have people taste my food and why I sleep with different guards protecting me every night. Yet they seem to be under control presently. What I have asked you here for is a task of far more importance than a few annoying school boys. Take a seat and I will get us a wine. One of the benefits of being Pope, I guess. I get great wines.”
De Payan often felt strange having the Pope and head of the Church serve him wine, but the Pope liked it. He was immensely fond of De Payan and everything he and the Knights Templar, formed just twenty-five years before, had done for the Church, the papacy and the people. After returning with two sterling silver goblets they clinked the cups and De Payan drank a hearty mouthful. All of a sudden he seemed to realise something might be wrong and immediately spat back into the cup.
“Has this wine been tested?” De Payan spurted, wine running down his chin.
The Pope broke into a huge laugh and slapped De Payan on the knee.
“It has now, old friend.”
They both laughed and clinked glasses again. This time De Payan downed the wine, the Pope also downing his.
Gregorio was born to be pope. A statuesque being, he was tall at over six feet, even slightly taller than De Payan. A receding hairline marked with greying, longish hair drawn back and clipped beneath his papal headdress. He had always been an orator, able to hold an audience within the palm of his hand and have them nodding their heads in agreement before even knowing why. His fast rise through the Church hadn’t been without enemies committed to his downfall, yet that downfall never came. If anything he was growing in power every day, yet he never used that power for anything except the betterment of mankind and in this matter he turned his deep brown eyes toward his old and trusted friend. Putting down his goblet, he took Hughes’ hands between his.
“You are the only one I can trust.” His sincerity wiped the previous laughter off his face.
“What is it old friend?” said De Payan. “What is it that troubles you?”
Gregorio drew breath, looking around as if to make sure there were only them in listening distance. Of course there was always God. He knew everything.
The Pope started on this most amazing story.
“Hughes, please sit down. The story I have to tell you starts back at the beginning of the Church and involves Constantine the Great, and some not so great decisions he made over 800 years ago.”
The Pope told De Payan that a document had been created at the first council of Nicaea, the council led by Constantine that literally launched the papacy, created Constantine as the first Pope and gave him and the Church as much power as any king in any land. The document in Constantine’s own hand held the greatest secret of the Church.
Another 700 years after De Payan’s meeting with Innocent II and only after the locating by accident of the Dead Sea Scrolls in 1948 it came to light that Constantine had changed the Bible. He literally rewrote the gospels leaving out over 40 books of what was the original bible. De Payan and the Pope never knew this, but what Constantine did have all those years ago was a document that could blow the Church right open. This document, written by Constantine, was the answer to the greatest mystery of all time.
