Four very tired men stabled their horses near the river and took rooms in a small inn serving as a lodging house for some of the stone masons working on the great church known as Notre Dame. As the four men passed by the building site Brother Simon had told them about this new building, started some thirty five or so years ago in 1163. Jebe, Guragchaa and Ahmed looked in awe at the construction site as the Brother spoke. Brother Simon thought no man had ever constructed such a monumental building. Pope Alexander III himself is said to have laid the foundation stone. The site was a confused bustle of scurrying men, pack horses and carts, all hurrying around, each making a journey which seemed vital to the success of the great church. There were dozens of crafts and guilds all at work on one common goal. The huge stores of timber and stone dominated the area, although they guessed there must be hundreds of men outside the city working in the forests making the beams and planks which would be used to construct the roof timbers, scaffolding, door frames, and a hundred and one other things, all needed to make this enormous edifice come to life. Even the very carts which brought it all to the heart of this vast city would have to be constructed. This involved wheelwrights, carters, stables, leather workers, farriers, carpenters, well, the list appeared endless. The piles of stone were of different colours and sizes, some dressed, some being worked, some already roughly hewn to shape. There seemed to be enough in front of them to build a city on its own. Masons, carpenters and labourers alike were scurrying over the site, all looking busy. There was a cacophony of people shouting, sawing, hammering mixed in with the distinctive sound of chisel on stone and horses whinnying. The smell of the wood, horse dung and sweat from both people and animals combining with the cooking fires on the edge of the site was an assault on their noses. None of The Trust had ever witnessed such a thing before, Jebe and Ahmed had both previously seen big building projects, palaces and castles, but this was different, here there were no continuous stretches of plain defensive walls, but thin ribbons of masonry, stretching ever upwards, tall windows, decorated with carvings, angels, Christian symbols, all with a story to tell. This was a monument to their Christian God. Everyone seemed to be at work with a glad heart and a common goal.
The four horsemen stopped and marvelled at the building site stretching out before them. Brother Simon was beaming with satisfaction as he pointed enthusiastically, "That section over there is the choir with its double deambulatory allowing a fine place to walk. The choir's high altar was dedicated in 1182 by Henri de Château-Marçay, the Papal legate," said Brother Simon with pride. He looked a little crest fallen as he added "I forget the name of the builder," he said apologetically. "But God will know him well by his work. See the section over there," said Simon indicating excitedly, "it is called the nave and was finished about ten years ago. Since I was last here they have made good progress on this new section." Once again he waved his hand expansively, this time in the direction of the area which displayed the most activity. "These are the last three bays. Of course it all has to be connected up and they say the two magnificent towers they intend to construct next will be the tallest structures ever built, reaching up to the very heavens. Some even say it will be the closest place on the whole of the earth to our Lord God in heaven. I know some of the people here in Paris who are working on the site and I'm sure we can have a good look around while we are here," beamed Brother Simon.
"It is very impressive," said Guragchaa "but I have heard the tombs of the Egyptian Kings are bigger than the eye can see and a man falls over backwards when he tries to look up to the top of them."
"We believe a man only needs a few inches of earth to cover his dead body and has only to close his eyes to be with his God" said Jebe.
"My friend you are a wise man," mulled Brother Simon and he turned the head of his horse and gently spurred it into a relaxing walk leading the others towards their food and beds.
The months had passed and it was approaching a new year. The cold was everywhere, but the place they had chosen to stay was discreet, warm and dry and appeared peaceful. They ate in the main room of the inn along with some masons from the building site they had seen earlier. The masons seemed not to notice or care if the men before them were foreign. The Trust had all experienced abuse on their long journey from Acre and had decided to change their plans and travel as a group to Paris and then onwards to London. It was felt there would be safety in numbers. They often talked of Ogedei and Sholoi and wondered how they were fairing. During the evening they struck up a friendly conversation with two of the Masons, one from Germany and one from England. The Trust soon realised these men, like others of their ilk had travelled all over Europe and the Holy Land, working on the great buildings of the time and Wolfgang, the German mason had even worked on repairs at the Templar Palace in Acre. Thomas the English mason had been south working on a private Palace for a Moor. This explained why amongst the masons at least, their strange countenance did not seem to bother anyone. These men were well travelled and had seen most things before. Their skills were highly sought after throughout the world. Travelling was a part and parcel of their lives, moving from one giant project to the next.
After resting for two days, Jebe and Ahmed ventured forth into the city to find the home of Philippe le Brun, Subutai's man in Paris. His residence was easy to find, being just north of the city on the banks of the river. The fortified manoir was very impressive, surprisingly large and surrounded by an expansive moat. There seemed to be many people working the fields of the estate as the two men rode up the long slippery leaf covered road leading to their destination. When they arrived at the front of the manoir, they were surprised to find two servants waiting there for them. Their progress had obviously been observed from a distance. Ahmed and Jebe stopped just before the small wooden bridge which traversed the moated manoir and one of the two servants asked them their business at the home of Philippe le Brun. Jebe replied they were merchants from the east who would like to meet with his master. He gave his name as Jebe. One servant disappeared through the picket door set into the firmly closed main gate of the manoir while the other watched them with suspicious eyes. Both Jebe and Ahmed felt uncomfortable as they looked at the high unadorned walls of the manoir and realised this was a fortified house first and a home second. They were asked to dismount. The two main doors silently opened wide before them as the servant reappeared and talked to his colleague, who in turn walked forwards to take the reins of the two mounts. The second servant defiantly stood his ground but beckoned the two men to follow their horses. Once they had crossed the moat and entered the precinct of the great house, the door closed behind them and they heard the sound of bolts and bars being pushed home. On entering the courtyard they noticed the horses being led off to their right as they followed the other man through a door into the main body of the house. Although it was mid-day, the interior was lit by torches as there were no windows on this level. With the smell of the wispy smoke stinging their eyes, Ahmed and Jebe were led into an ante room and told to wait.
After five or six minutes a swarthy, well-built man entered and introduced himself as Philippe Le Brun. Appearing at ease with his two new visitors, he was wearing a long white surcoat and a black cloak emblazoned with a white cross. Jebe and Ahmed instantly recognised as the sign of the Knights Hospitaller. A leather belt elaborately entwined at his waist held a conspicuous dagger.
"Welcome to my home gentlemen, permit me to introduce myself, I am Philippe le Brun, Knight of the Sovereign Military Hospitaller Order of St. John of Jerusalem of Rhodes and of Malta. Who may I ask are you?"
"I am Jebe, a poor merchant from the east and this is my friend and companion, Ahmed the Arab, a trader from Acre," said Jebe and they both gave a deferential half bow to the man before them. "We were given your name and told you may be able to help us."
"Oh, and who gave you my name and how did they think I may be able to help a poor merchant from the east and a trader from the Holy Land?" asked Philippe le Brun, his gaze turning cold yet unwavering from Jebe's eyes.
Ahmed looked at Jebe neither man was expecting this response. "I was given your name my Lord by one who lives in the far-east and rarely comes to these places."
"I know of no one who comes from the far east of the world, but I have seen your like before when I was in the Holy Land," he said, still fixing Jebe under his uncomfortable gaze. "I take you to be a Mongol."
"Yes my Lord, a merchant who plies his trade on the Great Silk Road."
"So what is that to do with me?" asked the Knight. "I am no trader." As he said these words, his hand slowly moved down his body to grasp the hilt of his dagger. He continued, "You have yet to tell me where you heard my name or who it was sent you to me or what you expect of me."
Jebe had an overpowering fear this was not the man they had travelled so far to meet. He knew he would have to fight his way out of this stronghold or die trying. His mind was racing; this conversation was not going at all as he would have wished.
"Mes amiee!" shouted Philippe and three men dressed in the same attire as Philippe rushed into the room with swords drawn. Each man wore a helm and mail and obviously meant business. Ahmed and Jebe immediately drew their daggers and backed into a corner with the table acting as a barrier between them, the four French Knights were nervously looking at each other, wondering who would strike first. All six men knew a vicious fight was imminent.
"Marcel, tell your men to put up their arms!" commanded a voice from outside the room. A small grey haired, bearded man of around fifty entered the chamber. He might have been small in stature but his word was obeyed instantly by the four Knights who stood before him. This was a man of obvious authority who demanded, and got, the attention of others. The four Knights sheathed their swords and looked at the two strangers with intense concentration, ready for any movement to alert them to a surprise attack. "Marcel, take your men and wait outside," said the man with a roguish twinkle in his eye. Marcel nodded and did as commanded. "As you can see, my steward, Marcel du Clairvaux, is very protective of his Lord, my name is Philippe le Brun and yours is Jebe, General to the Great Khan."
Jebe looked at Ahmed. "I see you look confused gentlemen, except for my time on Crusade, I have lived in France most of my life and you, General Jebe, are the first Mongol I have seen in this country, so it is not too much of a skill to guess who you are. I have been awaiting your arrival. My friends, you can see I am unarmed," said Philippe smiling broadly and turning around whilst spreading his arms wide, his open palms facing towards Jebe and Ahmed "Would you introduce me to your companion?"
Jebe and Ahmed both stood their ground looking around the room for another method of escape should it become necessary. It became quickly apparent there was no other exit from the room except by the door through which they had just entered, the door which Philippe had walked towards and gently closed. "I am sorry for the little deception when you arrived. Marcel always introduces himself to unknown visitors as Philippe le Brun. I suppose it is a ruse we have gotten used to over the years. Marcel has been a true friend and has been faithfully at my side here in Paris and on Crusade for almost twenty years and old habits die hard," said the bearded Knight as he sat at a chair. "Please be seated my friends. I know you have had a long journey."
"This is my companion Ahmed, he is from Acre," said Jebe, taking a seat and sheathing his dagger, motioning to Ahmed to do the same. "How do you know I am who you think I am," said Jebe choosing his words carefully for the Frenchman.
"As I said, only a Mongol who was looking for me, knew where I lived and had business with me would come here. If you prove not to be who I think you to be, you will never leave this room alive. Marcel and his three friends are just the other side of this door and know what to do if called upon to do so. The rest of the manoir have also been alerted. As you can also see, there is no other way out of this room. So I can speak to you as if we are old friends. We only have the formality of your Note of Hand and a simple question to prove your identity beyond doubt," he said in a matter of fact tone. "You know who I am and who pays me, and I know who you are and who pays you, so we are true equals," he laughed.
Jebe took off the cross he was wearing and gave it to Philippe le Brun who reached into his tunic and produced two strips of leather. The Frenchman looked at the inscription on the back of the two lateral arms of the cross and said smiled to himself, "very clever General Jebe, not only is General Subutai very clever, he has a sense of humour too. Water and wine indeed! Three miracles in one day, your arrival here after having crossed half of the known world, turning water into wine and a wooden cross turning into a fortune, an unusual day for us all my friends." Philippe carefully wrapped the length of leather around the upright section of the cross ensuring it started at the very top and did not overlap itself as he wound the leather strip around the wooden artefact until it reached the bottom. The leather strip ended exactly at the bottom of the cross. The Knight nodded his head with satisfaction. "Now we see what two letters are exposed to us," said Philippe as he started the same process wrapping the second strip around the lateral arms of the cross. "The leather must start and end at exactly the ends of the wood and you will notice there are two round holes cut into the leather, if it is the true Note of Hand, two key letters will be exposed. This is the way to decode the meaning of the simple wooden cross you carry."
Jebe leaned forward to look more closely. He had often wondered how the treasurer would ensure the cross was true and not a copy. Subutai had been careful not to tell any of the bearers how this was to be done, he said if they did not know, then the information could never be extracted. Jebe and Ahmed watched carefully as the leather strip wound its way along the length of the two arms. Jebe was fascinated by what was happening in front of him. When the process was complete, and the leather proved to be the correct length along the two horizontal arms Philippe said, "Now my friends we shall see if this is indeed a true miracle," and he turned over the cross and looked carefully at what was before him. Two letters were exposed through the holes in the leather and he smiled at the two men and declared this part of the task was complete and he knew the cross to be the one which had been given by General Subutai all those months ago on the Great Tal. Philippe le Brun was happy the Note of Hand was genuine.
"You now only need answer a simple question to which only Jebe would know the answer. Tell me my friend, the Arrow of the Besud had another name before he met the Great Khan, what was it".
Jebe smiled, it seemed like a long time ago since he was called The Arrow and he liked the sound of it once more. "Jebe is now my given name but I was born into the Besud tribe with the name Zurgadai."
"Zurgadai was the name I was given. My friends, welcome to my manoir," beamed the bearded Frenchman. Rubbing his hands gleefully he announced, "Let us all eat!"
The three men were joined at the table by Marcel and all ate a hearty meal and although the food was palatable, it tasted foreign and strange to Ahmed and Jebe.
"I expected you to be a Templar," said Jebe.
Marcel laughed at this remark and said, "The Templars are Doomed. We are Hospitallers; we are where the real future prosperity and power in Europe lies."
"Indeed," Phillipe continued, "We have seen the future and it is not with the Templars but this is of no matter to you my friends, I serve the same master as you. To business! You may talk freely in front of Marcel. We hold no secrets from each other. I am presuming your visit here will coincide with the emptying of your Lord's treasure vaults," he smiled knowingly. "You realise the secret vaults beneath this manoir hold a King's ransom and it is a sum with which can do much good, or much harm."
"It will do much good for my Lord Temujiin and may cause much harm to his enemies. We will not empty your vaults completely and you will of course be amply rewarded for the work and loyalty you have shown to the Great Khan."
Within days the Notes of Hand had been exchanged and the silver removed from the guardianship of Philippe le Brun to the Templar preceptory in Paris. The silver moved, amounted to fifty five thousand marks. A small sum still remained for Philippe le Brun to guard, even after he had received his substantial payment. This now made a total of one hundred and twenty five thousand marks on deposit with the Templars from The Ironworker's treasuries in Paris and Acre. They had no idea how many marks had been raised in Vienna, but knew a message would await them in England with the tally.