It was easy enough for Nate to slip out of the Abbey's front entrance. There were no brothers or security patrolling the halls and the front entrance was locked from the inside. A simple turn of the lock and he was out the front door and into the idling car Sully had waiting for him in the empty parking lot.
Two hours later they were in a hotel room in Amsterdam, the contents of Nate's backpack strewn over the table as Nate showered, desperate to rid himself of the sewer smell that clung to him like a needy child, and Sully smoked one of his putrid cigars on the balcony overlooking the Amstel river and skyline beyond it.
Once showered and dressed, Nate called Sully over and they inventoried their find.
They had Roger of Wendover's diary, a few sheets of paper and the strange key.
Nate picked up the key, while Sully picked up the sheets of paper.
In a better light Nate examined the key but was still clueless as to what kind of lock it would be used for. It was heavy, far heavier than a normal key and longer, about 6 inches from the bow to the 4-pronged bit. The bit had various square and rectangular notches cut into it which must pass through the wards in the locking cylinder to unlock the door, or whatever it unlocked. It was unlike any key he had seen before.
The shaft of the key was about as thick as his pinkie finger and had nubs pocked randomly around it and two channels running on each side of it, with chambers running off the sides of it at random intervals. Running a finger over the nubs, Nate found them to be malleable, able to move them around the channels. He moved a couple of the nubs and it reminded him of a slide puzzle, the way the nubs were able to move around the cylinder.
The head of the key was a simple oblong bow which you could attach to a keyring.
"Interesting" he murmured as he put the key down.
He looked over at Sully who was reading intently from the 2 sheets of paper, the others were laid on the table. When he finished reading, he looked up and indicating the papers on the table, said, "These ones look to be rubbish, or too faded to read. But, these two-" he indicated the pages in his hands, "-these are receipts."
"Receipts?" Nate said. He stood up and went to the mini fridge and grabbed two beers. Returning, he handed one to Sully and took a swig himself.
"Yeah" Sully said, taking his own sip. "The first one is dated March the 1st, 1778 and it says a letter was removed from these effects and sent to His Majesty, King George III, Buckingham House etc."
"Which is the letter King George forwarded to Captain Cook" Nate confirmed.
"And the second one is dated February the 14th, 1779 indicating that Captain James Cook of His Majesty's Royal Navy visited, inspected and removed personal effects of Roger of Wendover, these effects include: One personal diary."
"Well that's interesting."
"And this one-" Sully indicated another page on the table "says that a key and the diary were returned by an 'Englishman who refused to give his name'. Only that the key and the diary were to be returned to the belongings of Roger of Wendover."
Nate sat back in his chair, "That explains my next question, if this key was important, wouldn't Cook has taken it, and how was it returned? We've gotten a bit lucky that the Abbey kept records like this as far back as they did."
"God bless those meticulous monks!" Sully said raising his beer.
Picking up Wendover's diary, Nate flicked through the pages wondering what secrets they contained. It looked to be his personal accounts, written in looping black ink, dated from as early as 1205, some of the pages were torn or ripped out and others were illegible, faded from time and exposure. He scanned through the dates, carefully turning the pages as he went until he reached 1216:
16 August, 1216,
My Lord visited me today. A completely unexpected but welcome surprise as I was honoured to have him in my presence, though he is looking gravely ill these days. I fear this war with Robert and that vile Frenchman, Louis VIII, is taking a great toll on him, as is his increasing unpopularity with the people.
He does not admit it, but I know he cares what others think of him.
Though I would never tell him this, I do blame him partially for his own predicament, he signed the Magna Carta, in the presence of the Archbishop of Canterbury, but refused to abide by it. I am not sure what he expected to happen.
He asked me to join him for a walk in private, of course I agreed. We walked amongst my gardens in privacy as we talked of minor things and I could feel him building up to asking something important. It was as we sat down on a seat in the shade that he made his proposition.
He asked if I would join him when he set off to march against the enemy in a fresh offensive. I felt like there was more to what he wanted but he said no more. Naturally I agreed.
Nate moved on to the next entry:
29 September, 1216
We have set off at a brisk march to the Cotswolds. King John, his allies, their armies, his servants, handlers, baggage and me. I asked the King why I should join when I am not a military man, but he merely said he needed a chronicler of war and, more importantly, a friend with him.
6 October, 1216
Things are not looking good for King John. He confided in me last night that he has lost some allies to desertion and for every move he makes, the enemy counter it with one of their own. On top of all that, he has contracted an illness, he has waved it off as nothing but the men believe it is dysentery.
I do feel bad for the fellow.
7 October, 1216
It is rare that I am visited by the King in consecutive nights however this night he looked drawn and defeated. I never really noticed how ill he looked until this night. His hair greyer, his eyes cast in deep shadows, his shoulders rounded and drooping.
I asked if he was ok and he told me how much he was sick of this war, the fighting and that he was going to abdicate the throne!
I was shocked! I wasn't sure if it was the illness talking but he said he had a plan and needed my help. Of course, I said I would do anything but what he told me next nearly had me faint.
He wanted to take the Crown Jewels!
He planned to abdicate the throne and leave England at once with the Crown Jewels, head to the Roman Empire and then head for somewhere warmer where he can fight off the illness and live out the rest of his life. The plan is simple enough, the King plans on returning to Spalding from our current location and while he takes the route via Wisbech, his baggage train and his servants, including myself, will take a more direct route. Once we cross the intersection at Holbeach, I am to break free, take the jewels and head to Hull where I will wait for his Majesty and then we are to take a ship to Zeeland.
I have been sitting in my tent fighting with my head and heart on whether to accept this offer. Could I deny my King, after all he is still the King regardless of his plans? Stealing is a crime and a sin, but is it stealing? The rightful owner has given me permission to take the jewels for safekeeping.
I keep trying to reason why I shouldn't do it but I know I will, and it's all for one reason: I am so very tired of this travelling, living in tents. It's cold. It's dirty. I am constantly with the sniffles. Somewhere warm appeals to me more and more every time I wrestle with this decision.
12 October, 1216
I did it! It didn't go according to plan, but I have the Jewels. I told John (for he is no longer King in my mind) I would aide him in his desire to leave England and the war behind and I carried out my side of the plan as dictated by John.
As planned, I went along with the baggage train, but we reached Wellstream in Bishops Lynn later than anticipated and took too long to cross the causeway that the tide came in and the baggage train was lost!
This turned out to be serendipitous for our plans as I was able to not only break away from the train earlier and head straight for Hull but made a big show about the Jewels being in the lost luggage and thus lost to the water forever. I have sent word to John about what happened, as well as my 'official account of what happened' and I am now waiting for him in an alehouse just outside of Hull.
14 October, 1216
I have received word from John. He says he has fallen gravely ill and tells me to go ahead to Zeeland and he will meet me there when he is feeling better. I have organised passage to Zeeland and I am scheduled to leave in the morning.
I took this time to transfer the jewels into a more portable bag at which I laid my eyes upon them for the first time. I was breath taken with their beauty, the gold seemed to glow in the dark, brighter than the candle light to which I write this passage. The jewels sparkled a rainbow of colours - sapphires and rubies, amethyst and emeralds inlaid in a variety of kingly items: sceptres, crowns, rings, chains.
I now understand why he wanted these with him.
14 October, 1216
This alehouse is full of the lowest of the low. Criminals. Murderers. Thieves. I sit in the bunk room clutching my treasure to my chest. It will not leave my sight. No one will take them from me.
Tomorrow I will embark to Zeeland and I can rest easy.
5 April 1217
I am in Zeeland and John is dead. Word has reached the Empire of his death due to dysentery. Henry III is his successor but the child is only nine so I cannot imagine the disarray the Kingdom is in, and I find I do not care. I have my treasures and now, my freedom to do what I will.
I do feel sadness at the passing of my friend and former King, despite all his downfalls he was a good man and tried to do the right thing, just in the wrong way. I feel relieved that he will not be remembered as someone who stole the Jewels, that he will not be remembered as a thief and a deserter.
Maybe that is God's will, a final act of mercy for the man.
As for myself, I find myself enjoying the Dutch colony and will explore some more.
16 April, 1217
I have not slept a wink in the last week. Everyone knows the jewels were stolen and everyone will see I am an Englishman. They will work out I am the one who stole them! People are following me everywhere I go. In the markets, to my lodgings, even on horseback. I yell at them to stop following but they keep doing so, watching my bag, waiting for me to drop it or fall asleep so they can take it. But I won't let them.
27 April, 1217
I stabbed a man today, he was following too closely, whispering at me to drop the bag. To let him have it. I don't think I killed him but if I did, it serves him right. He should not take what is rightfully mine.
28 April, 1217
After yesterday's event I decided I need to find a safe place to settle down for a while. Allow myself to rest up. My mind is not sharp, and I question whether the man I stabbed was following me, or whispering at me. Or if it was all in my head...
30 April, 1217
This morning I came across Berne Abbey and they have allowed me to settle here for as long as I need. As soon as I sat down on my cot, I felt a great sense of relief. Like a weight has been taken from my shoulders. The brothers here are men of God and, as such, do not care for the treasures of men, even as vast a treasure as I am carrying.
The brothers have given me a private room and I cannot begin to show them my gratitude. My treasure is secured, and I am safe. It is time I slept.
28 July, 1217
I have decided to write down my confession and keep it with my diary. This will be for God's eyes only. In the meantime, I will try to live my life as best I can and once I have repented, return to the Kingdom to face my crimes.
Nate glanced over the next entries, but they didn't reference the Jewels and were of his day-to-day things he did. But Nate did notice his entries were getting fewer and fewer in frequency.
After skipping multiple entries that spanned almost 20 years, Nate found another entry related to the Jewels.
17 March, 1236
There was a man here today. Englishman, I think. I did not catch his name, but he was a man of God based on his attire and according to the brothers he is on a pilgrimage to Rome.
He may have fooled the brothers, but I am no fool, this spry young man is looking for the treasure, why else would he have come here when he could have gone to Paris, they are building a grand cathedral there. But I have hidden them away in safety, only to bring them out in secret.
This Englishman is here for a week they say. I will keep a close eye on my treasure.
23 March, 1236
They are gone! He stole them! I know he did, though the Englishman denies it. I was in my room when I heard a loud crash, I followed the sound and found smashed pots on the ground. The other monks came to investigate. Once it had been cleaned up, I returned to my room and discovered they were missing. I realise then that he was not there when we gathered around the smashed pot.
He claimed to be in the cloister, but he was with no one. There is no proof!
Of course, I did not tell specifically say what was taken, only that something was taken from my room. The Englishman let me examine his personal baggage and room, but they were nowhere to be seen.
The thief has hidden them, and I will find them!
24 March, 1236
I confronted the Englishman just as he was to leave the Abbey. I told him I knew he stole the Jewels. He continued to deny he had stolen anything of mine, but soon he caught on to my slip of the tongue and started questioning me about them.
I stabbed the man before anyone else could hear. I was able to search him again before the brothers pulled me off, but he did not have the Jewels with him.
I don't know what happened, but he took them and he got what he deserved. He was a thief and a liar!
The brothers have locked me in my room. Some have questioned me about what was stolen but I refused to speak anymore.
They mention an abbot from Poland who visited last week and was seen loitering in the rooming quarters. No one thought anything of it as his quarters were also located here but it surely wasn't him. Was it?
27 March, 1236
I must escape this place! The polish man, he is the key. I know he stole them. The brothers won't let me go; they won't talk to me. I must escape!
30 March, 1236
I managed to get some information from Hector, one of the brothers whom I became close to during my time here. The Abbot's name is Dominik Martinus, he is a visiting Abbot from Tyniec. Now that I know where he is, I must escape this infernal place.
21 April, 1236
All my attempts to escape have been foiled, this infernal room will be my doom. I must escape. I must get the Jewels. They are mine! Abbot Martinus! Tyniec!
24 April
Jewels must be mine. I must get them. I must get to Tyniec. Mine.
Apr...
Jewels. Mine. Abbot Martinus. Tyniec.
Jewels. Mine. Abbot Martinus. Tyniec.
Jewels. Mine. Abbot Martinus. Tyniec.
Jewels. Mine. Abbot Martinus. Tyniec.
Jewe...
Nate reached the final entry which simply said: 'Jewels.' and then the ink trailed off, as if it slipped from the page.
He flipped through the rest of the pages, but they were blank. If Roger of Wendover ever escaped his prison, it was not noted.
"Christ" said Sully. "He really lost the plot in the end there, didn't he?"
"I'll say," said Nate, flicking through the diary again to see if he missed anything but upon finding nothing else, he put it down.
"So, this proves it doesn't it?"
Nate picked up the key again and started fingering the nubs, idly pushing them down the channels into new positions.
"Well I'd like to have another account or something, like another pair of eyes on the Jewels but do we take the word of a guy who was clearly losing it?"
"It's not just his word" Sully said getting out of his seat and heading to the fridge. "We have the letter from King George to Captain Cook. We have a receipt that Cook went to the Abbey and took possession of Wendover's stuff, and we have his diary. How much more do you need, Nate?"
He continued absently moving the nubs on the key while he watched at Sully. He could tell his friend was passionate about this, maybe more so than usual. And he had to admit the evidence did stack up on the face of it. He certainly had worked with less and had success in doing so.
"Ok, let's go over what we know so far," Sully said, returning with two more beers and handed one to Nate.
"First, King John, unhappy with how things are in England plans to abdicate the throne and conspires with this Roger Wendover-"
"Of Wendover" Nate interjected.
"-Roger of Wendover to steal the Crown Jewels."
"Correct."
Sully began pacing the room as he spoke, "Then, on the day Roger was to steal the Jewels, fate plays a hand and the baggage carriage is lost in the river allowing him to say the Jewels were lost."
"Straight to the bottom of the river." Nate says, making a falling motion with his hand mimicking something floating to the bottom.
"So, Roger heads straight to Hull to wait for the soon-to-be former King John-."
"Who is too ill to travel." Nate adds.
"Right. So John tells Roger to leave and he will meet up with him when he is feeling better."
Nate says, "But he doesn't get better, he never recovers and dies."
"All the while Roger has taken the next boat to Zeeland and then learns that King John has died."
Sully was getting really animated now, hands gesturing at every point as he spoke them out. "So now Roger of Wendover is in the Netherlands and carrying the Crown Jewels in his bag. He is beholden to no one and can do what he wants."
"Beholden?" Nate says with a smirk.
Sully ignored him, "He gets paranoid thinking everyone is following him or out to get him to the point he stabs some guy who thought was following him."
"Carrying that kind of heat will do that," Nate agreed.
"He realises he needs to lay low and eventually he settles at Berne Abbey, he feels safe there and keeps the jewels in secret in his room."
"Where he lives for almost twenty years."
"Then the Jewels are stolen. Wendover kills an Englishman who he thought stole them but looks like it was this Dominik Martinus from Tyniec."
"Which is in Poland."
Sully nods, "Right. So that's as far as we know where the Jewels went and if Wendover escaped the Abbey, he did so without his diary, and we don't know what happened to him."
Nate took over, "500 years later, the Abbey finds Wendover's confession where he admits he stole the Crown Jewels and send it to King George. The King enlists his most trusted man in Captain Cook to investigate this as his last mission."
"Cook, under orders from the King, then fakes his death in Hawaii, leaves the letter behind and it somehow ends up hidden in the burial chamber of King Kamehameha and heads to the Abbey. We know he visited the Abbey and we know he took the diary and probably headed to Tyniec."
"And that's as far as we know," said Sully.
"There is one thing we don't know." said Nate.
"What's that?"
He held up the key, "This. An Englishman returned the key to Roger's personal belongings, but the receipt never mentions a key being taken out of his belongings, so did they just not write it down or did Cook pick it up along his trail and leave it with the diary. Did Cook himself return the items? We only know it was an Englishman."
He took a drink and continued.
"And what does it open? What's in the Abbey? It surely has been searched from top to bottom and obviously Cook didn't find the Jewels there."
Sully raised his hands in a placating gesture, "Nate I know there are a lot of questions but all we can do right now is to follow the trail, we have to go to Tyniec. Find out where this Dominik Martinus was a member and check it out."
Nate had to admit the idea was intriguing and Sully made some valid points. He continued idly playing with the key, sliding the nubs through the channels with no real idea what he was doing.
He slid one nub down the main channel along the shaft and to a side channel when he heard a click, like something unlocking or releasing. He looked at the key, half of the star-shaped bit has loosened. He gripped the bottom half of the bit and rotated it to 45 degrees of the bottom half and pushed it in creating an eight-prong star and emerging from centre cylinder was a new bit!
"Holy shit!" Nate said holding the newly formed key up to Sully.
"Well I'll be god-damned" his friend said with a grin. He took the key from Nate and examined it. The bit was a standard two-pronged bit with two embossed images of a man, one on each side.
The first image was of a bearded man with a bald spot and holding a large key in one hand and a book in the other.
"That's St Peter" said Sully.
"How do you know that?" asked Nate.
"He's holding the key to heaven and a book of gospels."
Nate looked at him with disbelief.
"What?" said Sully.
He turned the key over, and this was an embossed image of man holding a feather quill in one hand and a sword, facing down, in the other.
"I suppose you know who this is?" Nate asked sarcastically.
"That's St Paul the Apostle." Sully said without preamble.
Nate gave him another look.
"Nate, I did pay attention in school".
"Did you now?"
"Sometimes"
Nate sighed and reached for the laptop and began typing.
"What are you doing?" asked Sully.
Nate was silent while he searched and after a moment, he slapped the table, "The church in Tyniec" he said to Sully.
"Yeah?"
"Church of St Peter and Paul," he said with a grin.
"Best we get the nextflight to Poland" Sully said, clinking his bottle with Nate's.