The Templar gold

A historical novel about the whreabouts of the Templar treasure anno domini 1307
 
 
EDITION digital (Verlag)
  • 1. Auflage
  • |
  • erschienen am 10. August 2020
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  • 880 Seiten
 
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978-3-96521-218-3 (ISBN)
 
Jaques de Molay, the Grand Master of the Templar Order, was horrified. His order was to be dissolved, the knights arrested and the huge fortune of the French crown to fall. On Friday, October 13, 1307, the vassals of King Philip the Handsome arrested and incarcerated every Templar. Shortly before, three mule caravans with the gold and the archive had left in different directions. A caravan came through Spain to Portugal over arduous paths with many dangers. There the knights decided to sail across the Atlantic Sea and take their gold with them. While half of the knights sailed back to Europe, the other half stayed with the Gold in the rainforest and joined the Chachapoya people.
1. Auflage
  • Englisch
  • 0,64 MB
978-3-96521-218-3 (9783965212183)
weitere Ausgaben werden ermittelt
Ulrich Hinse, 1947 in Münster geboren, greift auf eine lange Berufserfahrung als Kriminalbeamter zurück (Bundeskriminalamt, Landeskriminalamt Mecklenburg-Vorpommern, Referent für Polizeiliche Prävention im Innenministerium Mecklenburg-Vorpommern. In Mecklenburg-Vorpommern baute er den Staatsschutz auf. Im Jahre 2007, kurz nach seiner Pensionierung, pilgerte er zu Fuß den Camino frances von Pamplona nach Santiago des Compostela und im Jahre 2008 den Nordweg von Ribadeo. Im Jahre 2002 veröffentlichte er seinen ersten Roman. 2005 wurde er Krimipreisträger der 10. Schweriner Literaturtage und gewann mehrere Krimiwettbewerbe in Norddeutschland. Bibliografie (Auswahl): Wer will schon nach Meck-Pomm? Scheunen-Verlag, Kückenshagen 2002 Blutiger Raps. Scheunen-Verlag, Kückenshagen 2003 Die 13. Plage. Godewind-Verlag, Wismar 2006 Ein Mecklenburger auf dem Jakobsweg. WiedenVerlag, Schwerin 2007 Das Jakobsweg-Komplott. Scheunen-Verlag, Kückenshagen 2009 Das Gold der Templer. EDITION digital, Pinnow 2014 Die Petermännchenpuppe. EDITION digital, Pinnow 2014 Falsches Spiel. EDITION digital, Pinnow 2014 Der Glatteisagent. Eine Geschichte aus der Zeit des Kalten Krieges. EDITION digital, Pinnow 2015 Schweriner Mordgeschichten. EDITION digital, Pinnow 2015 Der Traum des Templers und seine Reise über das Atlantische Meer. EDITION digital, Pinnow 2016 Das Gold der Andentempler. EDITION digital, Pinnow 2017 Veröffentlichung von Kriminalerzählungen in Anthologien
Jan had consulted with the old grandmaster and he had advised not to ride over the Eastern Pyrenees. He had come from there. The passports were certainly still free, but the vassals of King Philip were also waiting there with equal security to arrest fleeing Templars before they could get to the saving Andorra. No, the wagon train passed through the valleys under the ruins of the Cathar castle of Montsegur and after four days of travel reached Urdos before the Somport Pass. Here they had only one height in front of them to Jaca, then they were temporarily safe. But this was going to be a difficult task. It had snowed. Not much, but at least. The Templars of the small border fortress in Urdos, who guarded the pass, were completely surprised to see such a large wagon train of their order. Out of nowhere and without warning. The fortress commander tried all means to ensure that everyone was provided with board and lodging. But they themselves were only twelve Templars and had now unprepared to care for almost ten times the number of knights, sergeants and miners. "Brother", the commander turned desperately to Jan de Koninck, "if you had only announced yourself early, then we could have procured enough food and drinks. So we only have water from the well and some bread in the arsenal. I don't think that will be enough for everyone." Jan laughed. And the commander looked at him irritated. "Brother, I am not laughing at you. But if we had announced ourselves in advance and you had searched for food and wine in the surrounding villages, the king's men would have quickly come to our tracks and probably been here before us. "Which of the king's men?" the commander wondered. And Jan had no choice but to explain to the Templerbruder from the remote mountain fortress at the Somportpass what was going on in the French kingdom. "Now I understand, brother," the young knight marveled at the outpost of the Order, "but here in the surrounding countryside the English King Edward has his dominion and the French don't really dare. I don't think Philip's men would have been warned by anyone." "I don't know," Jan reeled, "we've already moved through the county of Foix and that's an area that's been under Philip's rule for years. So we can't rule out that we have already been informed about our train to Toulouse or Carcassonne. We have to cross the pass. As soon as possible. Can you help?" The commander nodded. "Of course we can help, but whether that will be enough to get over the pass with the heavy cars is at least questionable. Besides, what do we do if you actually make it to Aragon? "I don't think you can stay here. Join our train with your men. One more wagon doesn't matter now either." "Then I'll get a few draught oxen from the farmers in the area," the commander explained, "on the snow-covered paths they can pull the wagons uphill better than your horses. You can unharness them and let them rest. If you would give us some men, it would be quicker." Already the next morning several oxen had gathered in front of the small fortress. Also some farmers had stayed with their animals and looked curiously anxiously on the stately number of knights, sergeants, squires and servants, who stood in their small mountain village at the wagon or had lit small fires, before which they warmed themselves. Jan had ordered a small, well mounted rearguard below the village into the valley with the order to report immediately if foreign troops were to seek the way to Urdos. They could be seen a long time before they could arrive in Urdos, and so the train was reasonably safe from a raid. The knights took firewood and several long poles with them to support or lever the wagons on their way over the pass. Then it started early in the morning, after the Templars had hardly slept. Two riders brought back the rearguard. The route was already exhausting enough without snow to hardly manage with snow. But, as if the weather was in league with the Templars, there wasn't much of the white splendour, and it went on laboriously, but recognizably forwards. In one or the other case knights and servants had to pull together a slipped car back on the way or reload another one, whose axle was broken, and fall down the mountain. But in order not to block the way, there was no other way. At the top of the pass the rearguard caught up with them. It got dark again and Jan de Koninck ordered to set up a camp a good thousand steps below the pass on the south side of the mountain, light a fire and wait for morning directly on the bank of a clear stream. Nearby stood a small church and a very good bridge with an arch. Near the closed parish church there was a pilgrims' hospice, but nobody was there at this time of year. Jan took his quarters in the small hospice and also ordered the Medicus in so that he could take care of the sick and injured there. The small castle above the village was uninhabited and largely dilapidated. "This is the Rio Aragon," the Templars explained from the small border fortress on the north side of the mountain behind them, "which goes on to Jaca and from there to the Rio Ebro. Now we are in Aragon and in safety." "Yes, brother, we are in Aragon, but not yet safe, the border is still too close, the Aragonese villages too far and the French mercenaries still possessed to catch us Templars. Especially those from Carcassonne, who certainly cannot bear their defeat at Rennes le Château." Jan secretly hoped that his feint had been successful and that the Häscher had been distracted to the east. Then knight Robert de Boron limped towards him with his face distorted with pain. "What happened," Jan asked compassionately, "did you fall? "Yes, on the way to the pass my horse slipped and I fell down the slope. With difficulty I was able to cling to a stone and pull back on the way. But I must have hurt my foot." "I will send the Medicus to you", Jan said and looked around searching. Knight Robert waved off. "Leave it alone, I'll find him myself, you don't have to bother," the knight replied and limped towards the hospice where he suspected the Medicus. While his people had huddled together near the fire on the wagons and in arranged primitive tents and slept, Jan de Koninck walked slowly around the camp. One or two stealthy looks followed him. He went to the guards and talked quietly with them, looked at the steep path to the pass summit, where no one could get over without being seen early. Every shape that would come over the snow was visible in the moonlight. So he was sure not to be attacked surprisingly. Jan went a little to the side, kneeled down and sent a prayer of thanks to heaven that he had managed to bring his caravan to Aragon without any losses so far. There was hardly any snow on the south side of the mountains. That was good, because it made it possible to drive over the bumpy roads into the valley, where Jaca was at the end. Jan had given the farmers their salaries for their efforts and sent them back to France. From Can-Franc the Templars had to take their own horses again to get to the valley. The next morning, the caravan of the Templars pulled the narrow path along the clear Rio Aragon into the valley, which had been extended with deep wagon tracks. In the evening the town of Jaca was reached. With big eyes the people of the city stared at the train of the Templars. So late in the year they hadn't counted on the fact that over the Somportpass still cars came at all. They were to be expected actually only in the spring again. The bishop of the city and the mayor as well as some other dignitaries invited Jan de Koninck and the other knights to hear from them what had moved them at this time of the year to come over the pass and above all where they still wanted to go. The curiosity of the inhabitants of Jaca did not fit Jan de Koninck into the stuff. His distrust of all those who did not belong to the Order was deep. Much too quickly there was one or the other who could earn an extra income by informing the French king. And he did not exclude the Aragonese from it either. Money rules the world. In the meantime he knew all too well. At the reception in Jaca's town hall, he had once again noticed Knight Robert, who was rather pale and with his cheeks in the air trying not to fall out of his role while eating. After Jan had refused to stop at the bishop's house away from his caravan, he went back to the town gate together with Knight Robert, in front of which the carriages had been put together as a castle. "You don't look well, Knight Robert," Jan said and laid his hand on the shoulder of the slim Templar. "You are right, brother Jan," Robert replied in a fragile voice, "I am not well. My leg has got quite thick, it hurts like hell and I can hardly perform properly. I don't think I can hold out much longer. Leave me behind." "You are not in your full senses," Jan de Koninck replied, "I will not leave you alone. We are a community and everyone is there for everyone". Robert de Boron looked at Jan with grateful eyes. "I thank you for these words, but I don't want to stop the train to Castile and there are still many day trips to there. I won't be able to do that. I heard from one of the Templars in Urdos that there is a hidden Benedictine monastery nearby. That would be the right place for me. I could stay there. Nobody will look for me there and I could guard the holy agate bowl there." "Yes, brother, we are in Aragon, but not yet safe, the border is still too close, the Aragonese villages too far and the French mercenaries still possessed to catch us Templars. Especially those from Carcassonne, who certainly cannot bear their defeat at Rennes le Château." Jan secretly hoped that his feint had been successful and that the Häscher had been distracted to the east. Then knight Robert de Boron limped towards him with his face distorted with pain. "What happened," Jan asked compassionately, "did you fall? "Yes, on the way to the pass my horse slipped and I fell down the slope. With difficulty I was able to cling to a stone and pull back on the way. But I must have hurt my foot." "I will send the Medicus to you", Jan said and looked around searching. Knight Robert waved off. "Leave it alone, I'll find him myself, you don't have to bother," the knight replied and limped towards the hospice where he suspected the Medicus. While his people had huddled together near the fire on the wagons and in arranged primitive tents and slept, Jan de Koninck walked slowly around the camp. One or two stealthy looks followed him. He went to the guards and talked quietly with them, looked at the steep path to the pass summit, where no one could get over without being seen early. Every shape that would come over the snow was visible in the moonlight. So he was sure not to be attacked surprisingly. Jan went a little to the side, kneeled down and sent a prayer of thanks to heaven that he had managed to bring his caravan to Aragon without any losses so far. There was hardly any snow on the south side of the mountains. That was good, because it made it possible to drive over the bumpy roads into the valley, where Jaca was at the end. Jan had given the farmers their salaries for their efforts and sent them back to France. From Can-Franc the Templars had to take their own horses again to get to the valley. The next morning, the caravan of the Templars pulled the narrow path along the clear Rio Aragon into the valley, which had been extended with deep wagon tracks. In the evening the town of Jaca was reached. With big eyes the people of the city stared at the train of the Templars. So late in the year they hadn't counted on the fact that over the Somportpass still cars came at all. They were to be expected actually only in the spring again. The bishop of the city and the mayor as well as some other dignitaries invited Jan de Koninck and the other knights to hear from them what had moved them at this time of the year to come over the pass and above all where they still wanted to go. The curiosity of the inhabitants of Jaca did not fit Jan de Koninck into the stuff. His distrust of all those who did not belong to the Order was deep. Much too quickly there was one or the other who could earn an extra income by informing the French king. And he did not exclude the Aragonese from it either. Money rules the world. In the meantime he knew all too well. At the reception in Jaca's town hall, he had once again noticed Knight Robert, who was rather pale and with his cheeks in the air trying not to fall out of his role while eating. After Jan had refused to stop at the bishop's house away from his caravan, he went back to the town gate together with Knight Robert, in front of which the carriages had been put together as a castle. You don't look well, Knight Robert," Jan said and laid his hand on the shoulder of the slim Templar. "You are right, brother Jan," Robert replied in a fragile voice, "I am not well. My leg has got quite thick, it hurts like hell and I can hardly perform properly. I don't think I can hold out much longer. Leave me behind." "You are not in your full senses," Jan de Koninck replied, "I will not leave you alone. We are a community and everyone is there for everyone". Robert de Boron looked at Jan with grateful eyes. "I thank you for these words, but I don't want to stop the train to Castile and there are still many day trips to there. I won't be able to do that. I heard from one of the Templars in Urdos that there is a hidden Benedictine monastery nearby. That would be the right place for me. I could stay there. Nobody will look for me there and I could guard the holy agate bowl there." "The thought has something for itself, knight Robert. But the agate shell is a relic of the Order of the Temple. We cannot leave it here in Aragon in a monastery." "Oh, brother Jan, you won't leave them permanently. When I have recovered, I will ride after you and bring the bowl to Ponferrada." Jan did not have a good feeling about this suggestion. On the one hand he had already lost a relic and God knows in which hands it was now, and on the other hand he certainly did not want to lose the second relic. For whether Knight Robert de Boron would become so well again that he could manage the difficult ride to Ponferrada, Jan meanwhile had considerable doubts about that. He only had to look at the slim knight, then he knew where he was. "Knight Robert, let me sleep over your thoughts for one night. Then I will tell you my decision." The little knight nodded and turned in the camp with sad eyes to his car, where his squire was waiting for him. Directly at sunrise Jan ordered to tense up and set off. He had located the Templar from Urdos with whom Knight Robert had spoken. In response to his question, he had explained to him that he knew the way to the hidden monastery and that he had managed to get the car there. The monastery lay under a rock like in a cave. There were also several monastery buildings and he was sure that one could stay there for some time without running the risk of running into the arms of the French king's henchmen. The way to the monastery is only known to locals or local experts. So Jan had asked him to his side to bring the wagons to Juan de la Peña. For the inhabitants of Jaca the wagon train disappeared on the way along the Rio Aragon to the west into the Sierra San Juan de la Peña and was soon no longer visible. As they turned into a narrow path into the mountains after a few miles, Jan instructed some servants to blur the lanes with branches so that no one could tell where they had gone. When the bishop of Jaca sent some of his people behind the train, they came back after a short time and told us that they hadn't seen anybody or noticed any train. The Templars had vanished into thin air. Nestled close to the wall, almost crushed by the overhanging rock, the Benedictine monastery actually lay in the narrow, deep valley overgrown with pine trees, oaks and beeches, in which some golden eagles and bearded vultures nested. The monastery hid under overhanging rocks. Only shortly before they reached it did they see it. During the Arab invasion of Spain, several hermits retreated here and lived in a loose community. Later, the monastery of San Juan de la Peña was built over this site. The monks were amazed when the long wagon train and the large number of Templars appeared in front of their hidden monastery. Nevertheless, the abbot personally came to the gate of his monastery church and received Jan de Koninck with water, bread and salt. "There must be a very important reason why you come here with so many people and cars to our lonely monastery," the Benedictine stated objectively and without surprise. "Yes, Brother Abbot, you are right. We are persecuted and ask to be allowed to stay with you for some time in order to recover and care for our sick. We will support you in everything that is possible and belong to your monastic community. We would like to participate in your services and experience the holy monastic community that we have not been able to experience for several weeks. And now, in the cold season of the year, it is better for us to live in a permanent quarter." The abbot nodded.

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