‘Tom!’ David Carter called out, as he navigated the cobblestone road on Mont Saint-Michel as quickly as his rather ample frame would allow. Built on a granite rock just off the shore of Brittany in northern France this was one of the most impressive sights overlooked by regular tourists. Looking more like the castle from the Disney logo than an ancient monastic community, it was considered one of the most uniquely beautiful locations in all of Christendom. Tidal fluctuations meant that access from the mainland to this rocky island was only possible at certain times of the day, which – amongst other advantages – had made it the perfect location for the Templars to house their most secret vault, hidden deep inside the rock itself. But it also meant steep streets leading up to the abbey at the rock’s summit, and this was a fact that irked Carter every time he had to clamber up there… which as it had turned out was quite a lot.
‘Ahh, David,’ Dean Thomas Lercher replied, with a relaxed wave and taking another nibble of his salmon sandwich, ‘come to see me off, have you?’
The tiny cafe was a perfect place to relax and watch the passing tourists, although it was clear by Doggie’s expression that he could have done so without being interrupted by Carter, who now arrived with a reddening face, lightly sweating.
‘You know, David, the more times you traverse these streets, the less sweat you appear to produce. Now that you’re a permanent fixture here, you will be ready to run a marathon in no time.’
‘I’ll try to keep that in mind.’ Carter replied with a forced smile as, attempting to control his heavy breathing, he sat down next to him. ‘I’ve been all the way down to the car park and back up again, trying to find you. I wish you’d keep your mobile turned on.’
Doggie shook his head. ‘In actual fact I’m on university holiday time and, as such, yearn to be spared from any annoying business calls.
‘Bloody teachers,’ Carter muttered under his breath. ‘Look, Alex wants a favour from you.’
‘Where is he?’
‘Should be in Rome by now,’ Carter replied before snatching a bit of Doggie’s quartered sandwich and guzzling it down. ‘Sorry but I’ll need sustenance if I’m going to train for that marathon.’
‘Then buy your own sustenance next time, will you?’ Doggie said, pulling his plate closer to him. ‘What’s the favour?’
‘He hoped you wouldn’t mind letting Chloe know he’s OK and that he’ll be away for a few more days, on university business.’
‘Passing the buck?’ Doggie let rip a short burst of laughter. ‘She always knows when something’s up. He’s such a chicken.’
‘He really is,’ Carter replied in complete agreement. ‘But, to be fair, he appears to be in the thick of it, so would you mind?’
‘Of course, not a problem. I’m sure I can come up with some reasonable story.’ Doggie flicked some offending breadcrumbs from his tweed jacket. ‘You know, David, I feel so lucky to be involved with this whole Templar thing. On one hand it really makes me feel like I’m part of history itself… In the know.’
‘But?’ Carter was finally recovering his breath.
‘But, on the other hand, it is so incredibly frustrating that I can’t tell anyone about it,’ Doggie replied with his eyebrows rising upwards. ‘Anyone important, at any rate.’
Carter offered an understanding nod. ‘I know what you mean but you can always discuss it with me.’
Doggie’s eyebrows lowered and his eyes dulled. ‘Like I said, anyone important. Now, did it help with Avi Legrundy?’
Carter looked dumbfounded and his eyes began to squint. ‘Did what help?’
This clueless response had Doggie lightly slap his own face in disappointment. ‘The information I dropped on your desk… about Avi Legrundy. Her name was in the vault’s inventory. No actual files but her name crops up a few times.’
Carter’s eyes widened and his cheeks began to flush with anger. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I did,’ Doggie replied firmly, not about to take any crap from his colleague. ‘You never listen, David, you damn cloth-ears. Pay attention, man. There’s a separate storage room, on the second floor of the vault, containing a few dozen boxes of files and logbooks. The inventory included the name Avi Legrundy, pertaining to those files.’
Carter now looked embarrassed.
‘Did you actually check the inventory logs?’
‘I didn’t even know there was a second floor,’ Carter replied. ‘All my time so far has been taken up with the artefacts side of things. I’ve not had time to reach the logs yet.’
‘Then perhaps that time has come.’ Doggie rose from his seat and pointed his finger in the direction of the vault’s entrance, located on the top plateau of the Mont. ‘Allow me, therefore, to be of some use before I leave.’
Within a few minutes, and after a lot of heavy panting from Carter, they made it into the Abbey’s storage room, then accessed the concealed elevator via the palm-print ID. A few more minutes passed and they were back in the bowels of the Mont itself, with Doggie leading the way down a zigzag of steps and onto the second floor.
‘I can’t believe you didn’t know there was a second floor!’ Doggie exclaimed, relishing his colleague’s naivety.
‘I was joshing with you, Tom,’ Carter replied as, with wide eyes, he took in the sight of the second floor for the first time. ‘I just haven’t had a chance to explore it yet.’
The second-floor vault was almost identical to the upper level, with numerous walkways allowing access to multiple shelves on either side and each filled with case after case of Templar antiquities collected since the group’s inception. The only difference was that some of them were huge and, although all were still contained within those familiar pressurised cases to protect from the damaging effects of air and temperature, they were clearly constructed to house the Templars’ larger items.
‘Here it is,’ Doggie announced, halting outside a white door with the number ‘2D’ inscribed on it in black paint and a silver aluminium handle protruding from it which he now grasped firmly and twisted. ‘Take a look at this.’
As the door swung open, some strip lighting above automatically turned on and Carter found himself staring at what amounted to a glorious hodgepodge of items that looked already packed and waiting for a removal truck to take them away. On the nearest shelf were rows of journals with dates printed on their spines in gold lettering, like an encyclopaedia collection, while varnished wooden boxes sealed shut with yellow tape were piled up in the middle of the small room. Leaning to one side were much larger items wrapped tightly in Saran wrap which concealed any clear view of what they might be.
‘I haven’t had a poke around yet but the logbooks definitely indicate this room as containing information regarding Avi Legrundy.’
Carter made his way further into the room and up to the boxes stacked neatly in the centre. ‘What did the records say?’
‘That’s the odd thing,’ Doggie replied. ‘Just her name and the storage number, 2D, which is surprising given how detailed the records are for everything else stored here.’ He moved over to the first journal on the shelf top and tapped it with his index finger. ‘Simply stored or hidden away out of sight; I wonder which.’
Carter offered a grunt of curiosity and then reached into the first box to pick at the yellow tape, before pulling it away and crumpling it into a sticky ball which he dropped on the floor. ‘Let’s take a look then, shall we.’ He carefully pulled open the lid, which swung back on brass hinges to come to rest in an upward position. He began to inquisitively rummage through the contents, and within seconds found something of interest. He now pulled out a small clothbound diary and flipped open the front cover. The pages within were handwritten in black biro and, before he even had a chance to read all the way through the first line, his eye was caught by a familiar name printed neatly in the top right corner: ‘Liam Harker.’
Doggie now leant closer to read the name for himself. ‘That’s Alex’s father… which means these must be his personal effects.’
Carter said nothing more but began to read through the entire page as Doggie turned his attention instead to the large wrapped-up object leaning against the facing wall. He began to rip off the silver plastic packaging and in no time at all had stripped the whole lot off. He then took a step back to examine a large slab of oval-shaped white marble, measuring over a metre in height and almost twice that in length.
‘This thing must weigh a tonne,’ Doggie stammered, which caught Carter’s attention. He placed the diary back in the box and made his way over to take a look for himself.
The marble slab had a single image carved into its surface and, given the visible erosion, it was without doubt extremely old. But even at first glance Carter knew what it was and, more importantly still, what it represented. At the centre was a man, with a long cape flowing behind him, kneeling on an animal with his left hand muzzling its mouth. In his right hand he held a dagger which had been plunged into the creature’s shoulder. To Carter, though, the important thing was not the man which the relief clearly centred upon but rather the animal. It was a horned bull that appeared to be in muffled agony as the man knelt on its back, forcing it down to the ground. A long narrow serpent was slithering up its spine, while underneath it a dog bit at its ankle whilst a large scorpion attacked the beast’s genitals with sharp-looking pincers. Above, from opposite corners the sun and the moon shone down on this violent image, and over to one side a long beaked raven watched eagerly from the branch of a tree, at the dagger being plunged into the bull’s neck.
An uncomfortable feeling began forming in Carter’s stomach and, even though he wasn’t exactly sure why, he now realised what they were up against – and what this Avi Legrundy represented.
‘I know what this image means,’ he said softly, and Doggie nodded silently in agreement because he too knew what they were looking at and he uttered just a single word.
‘Mithras.’