The Scroll

Chapter Sixteen

Templer was oblivious to the sights of London as Flat Top navigated the congested streets. He had visited London many times through the ages, watched it grow and seen its Kings and Queens crowned and buried. Now, however, he was lost in thought, a passenger to his journey's end. For more than eight hundred years Templer had been an anonymous figure watching over the scroll in it's simple clay tube that Lord Percival had brought back from the Holy Land. In all that time he had never spoken to any of Lord Percival's descendants, except for Marilene; and she was now dead. Could, he wondered, have done for to protect her and the scroll? Templer starred out of the window as they crossed Westminster Bridge but he didn't see Big Ben or the Houses of Parliament, nor did he notice as Flat Top drove around Parliament Square past the Abbey. It was done, Templer thought pragmatically, and that was that. The world had changed and perhaps he had no place in it anymore. As for the scroll itself it would only have fallen into the domain of scientists who would have done all they could to discredit it.

Sensing Templer's mood the others kept a respectful silence. Flat Top turned off of Victoria Street and pulled up alongside Westminster Cathedral. In the early hours of the morning the street was empty and no lights shone in the windows of the affluent flats that looked out onto the cathedral. Father Michael unlocked the large wrought iron gates letting Flat Top drive into the cathedral's small yard. He reversed the Galaxy up to the door of the annexe and switched off the engine. The annexe was usually used for coffee mornings and jumble sales but also had access to the cathedral itself.

"We're here." Father Michael said gently. Templer looked around for a moment before climbing out to join Cue Ball and Flat Top who had opened the back door of the Galaxy. Declining their offer of help he lifted Marilene in his arms and carried her into the annexe.

"You certainly know how to open doors Father." Flat Top observed.

Father Michael smiled. "It would appear that we all have connections. What will you do now?"

"This is what we do Father. We take care of things that most people are never aware of. As someone once said 'it ain't much but it's the only war we've got'."

Father Michael looked disapproving of Flat Top's apparent levity but understood his vagueness. "Well I am indebted to you both. If I can ever be of service to you, you may find me here. Failing that the Vatican will know where I am "

"There are many doors in Rome Father. Any one in particular?" Flat Top queried.

Father Michael smiled. "Of course. If you mention that you helped me with the Sentinal then you will be pointed in the right direction. But now, if you will forgive me, I must go to Templer. He has waited a long time."

"Certainly Father." Flat Top handed him a business card that simply had a telephone number printed on it. "Anytime. Good-bye Father."

"Thank-you. And go with God." Father Michael watched the Galaxy drive away then turned back to the cathedral.

Templer had lain Marilene on the front pews before walking towards the altar, his footsteps echoing loudly around the empty cathedral. He knelt solemnly on the floor just as he had once knelt in the desert surrounded by Saracen horsemen. Father Michael could see blood staining Templer's shirt from two wounds high in his back. Templer looked up at Father Michael. He was also bleeding from the chest. "His words will be safe?" Templer asked.

"Yes." Father Michael replied. "You have done all that He asked of you and now you may join Him. I shall take the scroll back to the Holy Land. It will not be found again."

The great cathedral seemed to stir. A gentle breeze wafted down the aisle rustling the pages of a bible that lay un-noticed and un-seen. The altar's candles flared adding their light to that of the moon that shone brightly through the high windows. From the host came, almost too high for human ears, the soft sound of music. The stab wound in Templer's back caused by Reverend John disappeared. The arrow wounds through his back and chest no longer hurt nor bled. The high-pitched music rose and fell in volume as it swirled around the cathedral.

Father Michael placed his thumb on Templer's forehead. "Through this Holy anointing may the Lord in His love and mercy help you with the grace of the Holy Spirit."

Templer could now see feint, almost transparent shapes flying around the cathedral, the music following in their wake. He watched two of the angelic shapes swoop from the ceiling to surround Father Michael. Father Michael stood calm and relaxed until they rose once more in a flurry of silent sound. On the floor between stood the sword that Templer had carried at Jerusalem. Father Michael waited for Templer to reach for the sword's hilt and then touched the back of his hands. "May the Lord who frees you from your sins, save you and raise you up."

The sound of the music filling the cathedral was higher now than any living creature could hear. Father Michael watched the angelic shapes as they surrounded Templer. They became brilliantly white as they rose to the cathedral's high ceiling one final time. The white turned so pure that it became transparent once more. As they rose the music faded until the cathedral was quiet once more. The altar candles flickered out. In the dawn's faint light Father Michael looked around. He was alone.