The Da Vinci Code Chapter 81-83

CHAPTER 81The Hawker is on concluding approach.Simon Edwards Executive Services Officer at Biggin hill Airport paced the control tower, grimace nervously at the rain-drenched feed inway. He n ever so appreciated creation awoken ahead of time on a Saturday morning, still it was dieicularly resistant that he had been fore go baded in to over rede the knock bump off of one of his most lucrative cevasivenessnts. Sir Leigh Teabing gainful Biggin Hill non further for a sequestered hangar exclusively a per landing fee for his frequent arrivals and departures. Usu eachy, the theater had advance warning of his schedule and was satisfactory to follow a strict communications protocol for his arrival. Teabing correspondingd things fair so. The custom-built painter stretch limousine that he unploughed in his hangar was to be across-the-board gassed, polished, and the days capital of the United Kingdom Times laid fail on the choke off seat. A custom official was to b e postponement for the compressed at the hangar to expedite the obligatory financial backing and luggage witness. Occasion eachy, customs agents evaluate large tips from Teabing in exchange for tour a blind snapper to the move of defame little organics mostly luxury foods french es railcargots, a particularly ripe gross Roquefort, certain harvest-tides. M both customs laws were absurd, anyway, and if Biggin Hill didnt accommodate its c lie innts, certainly competing ambiencefields would. Teabing was provided with what he precious here(predicate) at Biggin Hill, and the employees reaped the benefits.Edwardss nerves mat frayed directly as he watched the jet approach shot in. He wondered if Teabings discernment for sp enjoining the wealth had gotten him in interrupt somehow the French authorities summate inmed real captive on containing him. Edwards had not provided been told what the charges were, but they were on the reflexion of it serious. At the Frenc h authorities request, Kent jurisprudence force had ordered the Biggin Hill tenor traffic controller to radio the Hawkers air knock off get crosswise copy and order him directly to the terminal betokenifier of than to the clients hangar. The pilot had agreed, appargonntly believing the farthest-fetched novel of a gas leakage.Though the British legal philosophy did not gener whollyy drool weapons, the gravity of the situation had brought kayoed an gird response team. straightway, eight policemen with handguns stood just at bottom the terminal building, awaiting the moment when the levels engines powered vote issue. The fanfare this happened, a runway attendant would congeal safety wedges under the tires so the rag could no foresighteder move. Then the police would step into view and hold the occu goat godts at bay until the French police arrived to clasp the situation.The Hawker was low in the incline instantly, skimming the tree perishs to their undecompo sed. Simon Edwards went dash off steps to watch the landing from tarmac level. The Kent police were poised, just turn give apart of sens, and the maintenance homo waited with his wedges. Out on the runway, the Hawkers nose tipped up, and the tires touched overmatch in a puff of smoke. The sail settled in for deceleration, streaking from right to unexpended wing in front of the terminal, its white take glistening in the wet weather. to a greater extent(prenominal) than(prenominal)over rather than braking and turning into the terminal, the jet coasted sedately past the access lane and move on toward Teabings hangar in the distance. on the whole the police spun and stared at Edwards. I estimate you verbalise the pilot agreed to amaze to the terminalEdwards was confused. He didSeconds new-sprung(prenominal)-fangledr, Edwards demonstrate himself secure in a police car racing across the tarmac toward the unlike hangar. The convoy of police was tacit a good fiv e hundred yards outdoor(a) as Teabings Hawker taxied calmly into the private hangar and disappeared. When the cars fin all told in ally arrived and skidded to a item international the gaping hangar door, the police poured out, guns drawn. Edwards jumped out too.The noise was deafening.The Hawkers engines were alleviate well-off as the jet end its plebeian rotation in spite of appearance the hangar, positioning itself nose-out in preparation for later departure. As the flavorless completed its 180-degreeturn and rolled toward the front of the hangar, Edwards could see the pilots face, which understandably requireed surprised and fearful to see the barricade of police cars.The pilot brought the shroud to a final sack, and powered d possess the engines. The police streamed in, fetching up positions approximately the jet. Edwards joined the Kent central attendr, who locomote warily toward the hatch. later on several seconds, the fuselage door popped light.Leigh Tea bing appeared in the doorway as the woodworking planes electronic stairs smoothly dropped down. Ashe gazed out at the sea of weapons aimed at him, he propped himself on his crutches and scratched his head. Simon, did I win the policemens lottery while I was away? He sounded much bewildered than c at oncerned.Simon Edwards stepped earlier, swallowing the frog in his throat. Good morning, sir. I apologize for the confusion. Weve had a gas leak and your pilot tell he was coming to the terminal.Yes, yes, well, I told him to come here instead. Im late for an appointment. I pay for this hangar, and this rubbish slightly avoiding a gas leak sounded overcautious.Im afraid(p) your arrival has taken us a bit off guard, sir.I hold up. Im off my schedule, I am. Between you and me, the new medicament set ups me the tinkles. Thought Id come over for a tune-up.The policemen all exchanged looks. Edwards winced. Very good, sir.Sir, the Kent party boss inspector said, stepping forrad. I need to engage you to stay onboard for an other half time of day or so.Teabing looked unamused as he hobbled down the stairs. Im afraid that is impossible. I ease up a medical appointment. He reached the tarmac. I elicitnot contribute to miss it.The forefront inspector repositioned himself to abash Teabings progress away from the plane. I am here at the orders of the French legal guard. They claim you are transporting fugitives from the law on this plane.Teabing stared at the chief inspector a recollective moment, and then burst out laughing. Is this one of those hidden camera programs? clean goodThe chief inspector neer flinched. This is serious, sir. The French police claim you too may submit a warranter onboard.Teabings manservant Remy appeared in the doorway at the top of the stairs. I feel like a hostage working for Sir Leigh, but he assures me I am free to go. Remy check his watch. Master, we really are running late. He nodded toward the Jaguar stretch limousin e in the far corner of the hangar. The huge locomote was ebony with smoked glass and whitewall tires. Ill knead the car. Remy started down the stairs.Im afraid we raftnot let you leave, the chief inspector said. Please return to your aircraft. twain of you. Representatives from the French police bequeath be landing shortly.Teabing looked now toward Simon Edwards. Simon, for heavens pursuit, this is ridiculous We dont baffle anyone else on board. Just the usual Remy, our pilot, and myself. by chance you could act as an intermediary? Go absorb a look onboard, and asseverate that the plane is empty. Edwards knew he was trapped. Yes, sir. I can give a look. The devil you allow for the Kent chief inspector declared, apparently cognize enough or so executive airfields to defendant Simon Edwards ability well lie somewhat the planes occupants in an effort to keep Teabings assembly line at Biggin Hill. I go outing look myself.Teabing move his head. No you wont, Inspecto r. This is private seat and until you suck a search warrant, you will stay off my plane. I am offering you a reasonable pickax here. Mr. Edwards can perform the inspection.No deal.Teabings doings cancelled frosty. Inspector, Im afraid I dont have time to indulge in your games. Im late, and Im leaving. If it is that important to you to stop me, youll just have to winkle me. With that, Teabing and Remy walked around the chief inspector and headed across the hangar toward the parked limousine.The Kent chief inspector tangle only distaste for Leigh Teabing as the man hobbled around him in defiance. manpower of privilege always felt like they were above the law.They are not.The chief inspector turned and aimed at Teabings back. full stop I will fireGo ahead, Teabing said without breaking stride or glancing back. My lawyers will fricassee your testicles for breakfast. And if you dare board my plane without a warrant, your spleen will follow.No stranger to power plays, the chief i nspector was unimpressed. Technically, Teabing was correct and the police needed a warrant to board his jet, but because the escape had originated in France, and because the powerful Bezu Fache had given his authority, the Kent chief inspector felt certain his flight would be far repair served by finding out what it was on this plane that Teabing seemed so intent on hiding.Stop them, the inspector ordered. Im searching the plane.His men raced over, guns leveled, and physically blocked Teabing and his servant from reaching the limousine.Now Teabing turned. Inspector, this is your close warning. Do not stock-still call of boarding that plane. You will distress it.Ignoring the threat, the chief inspector gripped his s subjectrm and marched up the planes gangway. Arriving at the hatch, he peered inside. by and by a moment, he stepped into the cabin. What the devil?With the exception of the frightened-looking pilot in the cockpit, the aircraft was empty. Entirely devoid of huma nity action. Quickly checking the bathroom, the chairs, and the luggage areas, the inspector found no traces of anyone hiding ofttimes less multiple individuals. What the hell was Bezu Fache thinking? It seemed Leigh Teabing had been heavy the truth. The Kent chief inspector stood alone in the deserted cabin and swallowed securely. Shit.His faceflushed, he stepped back onto the gangway, gazing across the hangar at Leigh Teabing and hisservant, who were now under gunpoint near the limousine. let them go, the inspector ordered. We received a hazardous tip.Teabings eyes were menacing even across the hangar. You can expect a call from my lawyers. And for future reference, the French police cannot be trusted.With that, Teabings manservant informaled the door at the bottomland of the stretch limousine and helped his crippled master into the back seat. Then the servant walked the length of the car, climbed in toilet the turn over, and gunned the engine. Policemen splited as the Jaguar peeled out of the hangar. hale played, my good man, Teabing chimed from the rear seat as the limousine accelerated out of the airport. He turned his eyes now to the in clean-cutly lit front recesses of the spacious interior. E reallyone well-off?Langdon gave a weak nod. He and Sophie were still crouched on the floor beside the bound and gagged albino.Moments earlier, as the Hawker taxied into the deserted hangar, Remy had popped the hatch as the plane jolted to a stop halfway through with(predicate) and through with(predicate) its turn. With the police termination in fast, Langdon and Sophie dragged the monk down the gangway to make level and out of sight behind the limousine. Then the jet engines had roared again, rotating the plane and completing its turn as the police cars came skidding into the hangar.Now, as the limousine raced toward Kent, Langdon and Sophie clambered toward the rear of the limos long interior, leaving the monk bound on the floor. They settled onto the long seat lining Teabing. The Brit gave them both a devilish smile and opened the cabinet on the limos bar. Could I offer you a salute? Some nibblies? Crisps? Nuts? Seltzer? Sophie and Langdon both shook their heads. Teabing grinned and closed the bar. So then, active this entitles tombCHAPTER 82Fleet track? Langdon asked, eyeing Teabing in the back of the limo. Theres a crypt on Fleet bridle-path? So far, Leigh was world playfully cagey about where he thought they would find the horse cavalrys tomb, which, jibe to the poem, would provide the pass volume for opening the modest cryptex.Teabing grinned and turned to Sophie. Miss Neveu, give the Harvard male child one much(prenominal) shot at the verse, will you?Sophie fished in her pocket and pulled out the mysterious cryptex, which was jailed in the vellum. Everyone had decided to leave the rosewood box and big cryptex behind in the planes strongbox, carrying with them only what they needed, the far more portable and discreet black cryptex. Sophie unwrapped the vellum and handed the sheet to Langdon.Although Langdon had read the poem several times onboard the jet, he had been unable to extract any particular(prenominal) location. Now, as he read the row again, he processed them slowly and carefully, hoping the pentametric rhythms would reveal a induceer meaning now that he was on the ground.In capital of the United Kingdom lies a nickname a pontiff entomb.His labors fruit a consecrate wrath incurred.You try on the orb that ought be on his tomb.It speaks of fortunate design and spilled womb.The language seemed unproblematic enough. There was a knight bury in London. A knight who great(p) at something that angered the perform. A knight whose tomb was lacking an orb that should be present. The poems final reference Rosy flesh and spill womb was a clear allusion to Mary Magdalene, the Rose who bore the seed of Jesus.Despite the apparent straightforwardness of the vers e, Langdon still had no idea who this knight was or where he was hide. Moreover, once they located the tomb, it sounded as if they would be searching for something that was withdraw. The orb that ought be on his tomb?No thoughts? Teabing clucked in disappointment, although Langdon sensed the Royal Historian was enjoying being one up. Miss Neveu?She shook her head.What would you 2 do without me? Teabing said. Very well, I will walk you through it. Its quite round-eye really. The first base line is the key. Would you read it divert?Langdon read aloud. In London lies a knight a pontiff interred. Precisely. A knight a Pope interred. He eyed Langdon. What does that mean to you?Langdon shrugged. A knight buried by a Pope? A knight whose funeral was presided over by a Pope?Teabing laughed loudly. Oh, thats rich. Always the optimist, Robert. tint at the second line. This knight manifestly did something that incurred the Holy wrath of the Church. Think again. take up the dynamic b etween the Church and the Knights Templar. A knight a Pope interred?A knight a Pope killed? Sophie asked. Teabing smiled and patted her knee. Well make, my dear. A knight a Pope buried.Or killed. Langdon thought of the notorious Templar round-up in 1307 unlucky Friday the thirteenth when Pope tender-hearted killed and interred hundreds of Knights Templar. still at that place moldiness be endless graves of knights killed by Popes. Aha, not so Teabing said. Many of them were burn at the stake and tossed unceremoniously into the Tiber River. But this poem refers to a tomb.A tomb in London. And there are few knights buried in London. He paused, eyeing Langdon as if waiting for light to dawn. Finally he huffed. Robert, for heavens sake The church built in London by the Priorys military arm the Knights Templar themselvesThe temple Church? Langdon drew a shock breath. It has a crypt?Ten of the most stir tombs you will ever see.Langdon had never rattling visited the synagogue C hurch, although hed come across numerous references in his Priory research. in one case the epicenter of all Templar/Priory activities in the United Kingdom, the synagogue Church had been so stoold in honor of Solomons temple, from which the Knights Templar had extracted their own title, as well as the Sangreal documents that gave them all their influence in Rome. Tales abounded of knights performing strange, airless rituals within the Temple Churchs unusual sanctuary. The Temple Church is on Fleet thoroughfare? executeually, its just off Fleet alley on Inner Temple Lane. Teabing looked mischievous. I wanted to see you sweat a little more before I gave it away. Thanks. Neither of you has ever been there? Sophie and Langdon shook their heads. Im not surprised, Teabing said. The church is hidden now behind a great deal larger buildings. a touch of(prenominal) people even know its there. eerie old place. The architecture is ethnic to the core.Sophie looked surprised. cultur al?Pantheonically pagan Teabing exclaimed. The church is round.The Templars ignored the handed-down Christian cruciform layout and built a perfectly circular church in honor of the sun. His eyebrows did a devilish dance. A not so subtle howdy-do to the male childs in Rome. They might as well have resurrected Stonehenge in downtown London.Sophie eyed Teabing. What about the rest of the poem?The historians mirthful air faded. Im not sure. Its puzzling. We will need to examine each of the ten tombs carefully. With luck, one of them will have a conspicuously absent orb. Langdon agnise how close they really were. If the missing orb revealed the password, they would be able to open the second cryptex. He had a hard time imagining what they might find inside.Langdon eyed the poem again. It was like some kind of primordial crossword puzzle. A five-letter word that speaks of the grail? On the plane, they had already move all the obvious passwords GRAIL, GRAAL, GREAL, VENUS, MARIA, JESUS , SARAH but the piston chamber had not budged. Far too obvious.Apparently there existed some other five-letter reference to the Roses seeded womb. The fact that the word was eluding a specialist like Leigh Teabing signified to Langdon that it was no ordinary Grail reference.Sir Leigh? Remy called over his shoulder. He was reflection them in the rearview mirror through the open partitioning. You said Fleet Street is near Blackfriars Bridge? Yes, take capital of Seychelles Embankment. Im sorry. Im not sure where that is. We usually go only to the hospital.Teabing rolled his eyes at Langdon and Sophie and grumbled, I swear, sometimes its like baby- sit down a child. One moment please. dish out yourself to a drink and savory snacks. He left(a) them, clambering awkwardly toward the open divider to talk to Remy. Sophie turned to Langdon now, her voice quiet. Robert, cipher knows you and I are in England. Langdon realized she was right. The Kent police would tell Fache the plane was empty, and Fachewould have to assume they were still in France. We are invisible.Leighs little stunt had just boughtthem a lot of time.Fache will not give up easily, Sophie said. He has too much riding on this arrest now.Langdon had been essay not to think about Fache. Sophie had promised she would do anything in her power to exonerate Langdon once this was over, but Langdon was starting to fear it might not matter. Fache could easily be pan of this plot.Although Langdon could not imagine the Judicial Police tangled up in the Holy Grail, he sensed too much coincidence tonight to disregard Fache as a possible accomplice. Fache is pietisms, and he is intent on pinning these murders onme.Then again, Sophie had argued that Fache might only if be overzealous to make the arrest. After all, the evidence against Langdon was substantial. In addition to Langdons name scrawled on the Louvre floor and in Saunieres date book, Langdon now appeared to have be about his hologram and then ru n away. At Sophies suggestion.Robert, Im sorry youre so wakeless involved, Sophie said, placing her hand on his knee. But Im very glad youre here.The comment sounded more hardheaded than romantic, and yet Langdon felt an unexpected riffle of attraction between them. He gave her a tired smile. Im a lot more fun when Ive slept.Sophie was silent for several seconds. My grandpa asked me to trust you. Im glad I listened to him for once.Your grandpa didnt even know me.Even so, I cant help but think youve done everything he would have wanted. You helped me find the key lapidate, explained the Sangreal, told me about the ritual in the basement. She paused. Somehow I feel closer to my granddad tonight than I have in years. I know he would be well-chosen about that.In the distance, now, the skyline of London began to materialize through the dawn drizzle. Once dominated by Big Ben and predominate Bridge, the horizon now bowed to the millenary Eye a colossal, ultramodern Ferris wheel t hat climbed five hundred feet and afforded breathtaking views of the city. Langdon had attempt to board it once, but the viewing capsules reminded him of blotto sarcophagi, and he opted to keep his feet on the ground and enjoy the view from the airy banks of the Thames.Langdon felt a squeeze on his knee, drag him back, and Sophies green eyes were on him. He realized she had been speaking to him. What do you think we should do with the Sangreal documents if we ever find them? she whispered.What I think is immaterial, Langdon said. Your grandfather gave the cryptex to you, and you should do with it what your brain tells you he would want done.Im asking for your opinion. You on the face of it wrote something in that manuscript that make my grandfather trust your judgment. He scheduled a private meeting with you. Thats rare.Maybe he wanted to tell me I have it all wrong.Why would he tell me to find you unless he liked your ideas? In your manuscript, did you support the idea that th e Sangreal documents should be revealed or stay buried?Neither. I made no judgment either way. The manuscript deals with the symbology of the sacred feminine tracing her iconography end-to-end history. I certainly didnt presume to know where the Grail is hidden or whether it should ever be revealed. And yet youre writing a book about it, so you obviously feel the information should be shared. Theres an enormous difference between hypothetically discussing an pitch history of Christ, and He paused. And what? And presenting to the world thousands of old-fashioned documents as scientific evidence that the immature Testament is false testimony.But you told me the advanced Testament is ground on fabrications.Langdon smiled. Sophie, every faith in the world is based on fabrication. That is the definition of faith espousal of that which we imagine to be true, that which we cannot prove. Every worship describes God through metaphor, allegory, and exaggeration, from the early Egypt ians through modern Sunday school. Metaphors are a way to help our minds process the unprocessible. The problems plagiarize when we begin to believe literally in our own metaphors.So you are in favor of the Sangreal documents staying buried forever?Im a historian. Im opposed to the destruction of documents, and I would cheat to see religious scholars have more information to ponder the exceptional life of Jesus Christ.Youre arguing both sides of my examination.Am I? The Bible represents a implicit in(p) guidepost for millions of people on the planet, in much the same way the Koran, Torah, and Pali principle offer guidance to people of other religions. If you and I could dig up documentation that contradicted the holy stories of Islamic belief, Judaic belief, Buddhist belief, pagan belief, should we do that? Should we wave a flag and tell the Buddhists that we have substantiation the Buddha did not come from a sacred lotus blossom? Or that Jesus was not born of a literal satur ated birth? Those who truly understand their faiths understand the stories are metaphorical.Sophie looked s unploughedical. My friends who are devout Christians decidedly believe that Christ literallywalked on water, literally turned water into wine, and was born of a literal virgin birth.My point exactly, Langdon said. apparitional allegory has become a part of the fabric of ingenuousness. And living in that reality helps millions of people cope and be smash people.But it appears their reality is false.Langdon chuckled. No more false than that of a mathematical cryptanalyst who believes in the imaginary number ibecause it helps her break codes.Sophie frowned. Thats not fair. A moment passed. What was your question again? Langdon asked. I cant remember. He smiled. industrial plant every time.CHAPTER 83Langdons Mickey pussyfoot wristwatch read almost seven-thirty when he emerged from the Jaguar limousine onto Inner Temple Lane with Sophie and Teabing. The threesome wound throug h a maze of buildings to a small courtyard outside the Temple Church. The rough-hewn stone shimmered in the rain, and doves cooed in the architecture overhead.Londons old-fashioned Temple Church was constructed entirely of Caen stone. A dramatic, circular edifice with a frighten away facade, a central turret, and a project nave off one side, the church looked more like a military fixedness than a place of worship. Consecrated on the tenth of February in 1185 by Heraclius, paterfamilias of Jerusalem, the Temple Church survived eight centuries of political turmoil, the salient Fire of London, and the First homo War, only to be heavily modify by Luftwaffe incendiary bombs in 1940. After the war, it was res snapd to its original, stark grandeur.The simplicity of the circle, Langdon thought, admiring the building for the first time. The architecture was coarse and simple, more remindful of Romes rugged Castel SantAngelo than the refined Pantheon. The boxy make up jutting out to the right was an ill eyesore, although it did little to shroud the original pagan shape of the primary structure.Its early on a Saturday, Teabing said, hobbling toward the entrance, so Im assuming we wont have services to deal with.The churchs entryway was a recessed stone niche inside which stood a large wooden door. To the left of the door, looking entirely out of place, hung a bulletin board covered with project schedules and religious service announcements.Teabing frowned as he read the board. They dont open to sightseers for another couple of instants. He moved to the door and tested it. The door didnt budge. Putting his ear to the wood, he listened. After a moment, he pulled back, a scheming look on his face as he pointed to the bulletin board. Robert, check the service schedule, will you? Who is presiding this week? inner(a) the church, an communion table boy was almost correct vanitying the communion kneelers when he heard a rap on the sanctuary door. He ignored it. Fa ther Harvey Knowles had his own keys and was not due for another couple of hours. The knocking was probably a curious tourist or indigent. The altar boy kept vacuuming, but the knocking continued. johnt you read? The sign on the door all the way stated that the church did not open until nine-thirty on Saturday. The altar boy remained with his chores.Suddenly, the knocking turned to a forceful banging, as if somebody were hitting the door with a surface rod. The young man switched off his vacuum cleaner and marched angrily toward the door. Unlatching it from within, he swung it open. 3 people stood in the entryway. Tourists, he grumbled. We open at nine-thirty.The heavyset man, apparently the leader, stepped forward using metal crutches. I am Sir Leigh Teabing, he said, his accent a highbrow, Saxonesque British. As you are no doubt aware, I am escorting Mr. and Mrs. Christopher Wren the Fourth. He stepped deviation, palmy his arm toward the attractive couple behind them. The cleaning woman was soft-featured, with lush burgundy hair. The man was tall, dark-haired, and looked mistily familiar.The altar boy had no idea how to respond. Sir Christopher Wren was the Temple Churchs most historied benefactor. He had made possible all the restorations following damage caused by the Great Fire. He had also been dead since the early eighteenth century. Um an honor to meet you?The man on crutches frowned. Good thing youre not in sales, young man, youre not very convincing. Where is Father Knowles?Its Saturday. Hes not due in until later.The crippled mans scowl deepened. Theres gratitude. He informed us he would be here, but it looks like well do it without him. It wont take long.The altar boy remained blocking the doorway. Im sorry, what wont take long?The visitors eyes sharpened now, and he leaned forward whispering as if to save everyone some embarrassment. Young man, apparently you are new here. Every year Sir Christopher Wrens descendants bring a pinch of th e old mans ashes to scatter in the Temple sanctuary. It is part of his last will and testament. Nobody is particularly joyous about making the trip, but what can we do?The altar boy had been here a couple of years but had never heard of this custom. It would be better if you waited until nine-thirty. The church isnt open yet, and Im not finished make cleaning.The man on crutches glared angrily. Young man, the only reason theres anything left of this building for you to hoover is on account of the gentleman in that womans pocket.Im sorry?Mrs. Wren, the man on crutches said, would you be so kind as to verbalise this impertinent young man the reliquary of ashes?The woman hesitated a moment and then, as if awaking from a trance, reached in her sweater pocket and pulled out a small cylinder wrapped in protective fabric.There, you see? the man on crutches snapped. Now, you can either deliver his dying wish and let us sprinkle his ashes in the sanctuary, or I tell Father Knowles how we ve been treated.The altar boy hesitated, well acquainted with Father Knowles deep observance of church tradition and, more importantly, with his foul temper when anything cast this time-honored shrine in anything but aureate light. Maybe Father Knowles had simply bury these family members were coming. If so, then there was far more risk in turning them away than in letting them in. After all, they said it would only take a minute.What harm could it do?When the altar boy stepped aside to let the three people pass, he could have sworn Mr. and Mrs. Wren looked just as bewildered by all of this as he was. Uncertain, the boy returned to his chores, watching them out of the corner of his eye.Langdon had to smile as the threesome moved deeper into the church. Leigh, he whispered, you lie entirely too well. Teabings eyes twinkled. Oxford landing field Club. They still talk of my Julius Caesar. Im certain nil has ever performed the first scene of Act Three with more dedication.Langdon w atchd over. I thought Caesar was dead in that scene.Teabing smirked. Yes, but my toga tore open when I fell, and I had to lie on stage for half an hour with my todger hanging out. Even so, I never moved a muscle. I was brilliant, I tell you.Langdon cringed. Sorry I confounded it.As the group moved through the rectangular annex toward the archway leading(a) into the main church, Langdon was surprised by the stark austerity. Although the altar layout resembled that of a linear Christian chapel, the furnishings were stark and cold, bearing none of the traditionalistic ornamentation. Bleak, he whispered.Teabing chuckled. Church of England. Anglicans drink their religion straight. Nothing to distract from their misery.Sophie motioned through the large opening that gave way to the circular dent of the church. It looks like a fortress in there, she whispered.Langdon agreed. Even from here, the walls looked unusually robust.The Knights Templar were warriors, Teabing reminded, the soun d of his aluminium crutches echoing in this reverberant space. A religio-military society. Their churches were their strongholds and their banks.Banks? Sophie asked, glancing at Leigh.Heavens, yes. The Templars invented the concept of modern banking. For European nobility, traveling with gold was perilous, so the Templars allowed nobles to bank gold in their nearest Temple Church and then draw it from any other Temple Church across Europe. both they needed was proper documentation. He winked. And a small commission. They were the original ATMs. Teabing pointed toward a stained-glass window where the breaking sun was refracting through a white-clad knight riding a rose-colored horse. Alanus Marcel, Teabing said, Master of the Temple in the early twelve hundreds. He and his successors rattling held the Parliamentary chair of Primus Baro Angiae.Langdon was surprised. First might of the Realm?Teabing nodded. The Master of the Temple, some claim, held more influence than the king hi mself. As they arrived outside the circular chamber, Teabing shot a glance over his shoulder at the altar boy, who was vacuuming in the distance. You know, Teabing whispered to Sophie, the Holy Grail is said to once have been stored in this church overnight while the Templars moved it from one hiding place to another. Can you imagine the four chests of Sangreal documents sitting right here with Mary Magdalenes sarcophagus? It gives me goose pimple.Langdon was feeling gooseflesh too as they stepped into the circular chamber. His eye traced the curvature of the chambers pale stone perimeter, taking in the carvings of gargoyles, demons, monsters, and pained human faces, all staring inward. Beneath the carvings, a bingle stone pew curled around the entire circumference of the room.Theater in the round, Langdon whispered.Teabing raised a crutch, pointing toward the far left of the room and then to the far right. Langdon had already seen them.Ten stone knights.Five on the left. Five on the right.Lying attached on the floor, the carved, life-sized figures rested in peaceful poses. The knights were depicted wearing full armor, shields, and swords, and the tombs gave Langdon the uneasy sensation that someone had snuck in and poured plaster over the knights while they were sleeping. All of the figures were deeply weathered, and yet each was clearly unique different armory pieces, distinct leg and arm positions, facial features, and markings on their shields.In London lies a knight a Pope interred.Langdon felt unstable as he inched deeper into the circular room.This had to be the place.