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to the ceiling in a desperate gesture, “the reports revealed that either the Templars had been poorer than rats, or they had been smart enough to make the huge quantity of one thousand five hundred chests full of gold, silver and precious stones — the amount calculated, grosso modo, as the amount they had at the time when a stop was put to their activities, maybe even more —, disappear into thin air.”
    “And what happened to those treasures? Where are they?”
    “Nobody knows, brother. It is another of the great mysteries that the condemned Order left following its disappearance. You could say that we settled with the first explanation that the accountants gave us, that the Templar was poorer than rats. Better that than to accept the public humiliation of having been laughed at right under our noses. If the Kings prefer to ignore the truth for reasons of personal prestige, then that’s fine but we want to recover the treasures that legally belong to us. Which is why, Brother Galceran, any information that you can get about the gold during your mission for the Pope will be of the utmost importance for our Order. Think about how many hospitals could be built with that money, how many works of mercy could be carried out, how many hospices we could build ….”
    “And of the power and influence it would return to us,” I added critically, “almost as much as the Templars had before their disappearance.”
    “Yes, that too, of course. Although it’s best we not get into those delicate subjects.”
    “True,” I mumbled. “Best not to get into those.”
    “A final warning, freire Galceran. You know that our Order and the Order of the Temple were secular enemies due to questions of fame and popularity. Therefore, your captaincy in Rhodes thinks it best if you don’t refer to yourself as a Hospitaller freire, given that you are going to be carrying out an investigation with the interests of so many involved.”
    “And with what identity, if I may ask, should I carry out the investigation?”
    “No identity, Brother, just as yourself. But if at any time you need to identify yourself in order to protect your life, you will say that you are a member of the new Military Order of St. Mary of Montesa, recently created by James II of Aragon to clean his honor, tainted by the accusations that he swooped on the Templar property like a bird of prey. For this reason the least desirable remains of this property in the Kingdom of Valencia has been appointed to the foundation of this small Order, whose members, the Montesinos, consider themselves to be spiritual and ideological heirs of the Templars, even though there are barely a handful of old Valencian freires milites amongst their ranks who were not able to flee.”
    “So, I am now a Valencian Montesino.”
    “First and foremost, you are a learned and prudent man, Brother Perquisitore, and you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that being known as a Hospitaller would hinder your work while a Montesino will always be well received in the places that you will be forced to visit.” He carefully untied the knotted rope that belted his fake Franciscan habit and pulled out some sealed letters from amongst the folds which he handed me. “These are the passes, permits and affidavit that the Pope mentioned, issued by the Order of Montesa. In them, you appear as a doctor. We thought it would be best for you in the case that you are ever in danger.”
    Micer Robert wearily rose from his chair, stretching his muscles with a pained look on his face. My bones also cracked as I stood up.
    “It’s late, Brother. The sun is out. We must get some sleep and rest. You have a long journey ahead of you. Where are you going to start?”
    “With the documents that I have in this folder,” I replied, tapping on the file that John XXII had given me. “It’s never a good idea to do things without having first anticipated all of the likely moves of the game.”

CHAPTER III
    On a chilly and