"Your name is a state secret?" The young woman was getting under his skin. She was beginning to remind him of "Hot Lips" Houlihan on M.A.S.H., at least as far as her haughty attitude was concerned.
"I'm usually called Sister Meg," said the woman primly. "And you are?"
"John Holliday, U.S. Army, retired. My friends call me Doc."
"I wasn't aware that the army employed historians," said Sister Meg.
"Quite a few of them, actually," replied Holliday. "You know the old saying, 'those who ignore history are doomed to repeat it.' "
"George Santayana," said the nun.
"The army takes it quite seriously. Ignoring history leads to things like invading Russia in winter or taking big hollow horses into walled enemy cities. In my case, I taught the history of warfare at West Point."
"One of my ancestors went to West Point," said the nun, a hint of pride in her voice. "He was a general."
"Which one?" Holliday asked.
Sister Meg waved a dismissing hand. "It doesn't matter." She pointed down at the effigy of the knight. "Why are you interested in Jean de Saint-Clair?"
"He discovered a nautical instrument that gave the Templars a great advantage at sea. He may well have traveled as far as North America." He smiled. "I'm not quite sure why a nun would be interested in a man like him."
"The Convent of St. Agnes was founded in 1232 by Princess Agnes, a niece of the king of Bohemia," explained the nun. "She died in 1282. Before she died she entrusted a relic to the care of her own niece, the Blessed Juliana. The relic is known as the True Ark."
"As in Noah or the Ark of the Covenant?"
"Neither," said Sister Meg. "In Latin the word for 'chest' is arca. Over time the word has been invested with far more meaning than it really should. It simply means 'box.' The True Ark is the single most important religious relic in the world with the exception of the bones of Christ himself. I'm going to find it."
"Presumably there's something inside this ark of yours," suggested Holliday.
"There is," said the nun. "Historically the contents of the box were thought to have been the Holy Grail, the Crown of Thorns, the Holy Shroud, and the Ring of Christ."
"The main event," said Holliday.
"The fourteenth century was the age of relics," said the nun. "The True Cross, the Shroud of Turin, the bones of various saints. Whatever was in the box was felt to be significant."
"So Juliana gave it to Saint-Clair?"
"Yes. Juliana had been married to a member of the French royal family. When he died she was betrothed again, this time to a man she did not love, a cousin of King Philip who was also a bishop. Part of the dowry was the True Ark. Rather than marry the bishop and lose the ark she fled, with Jean de Saint- Clair's help. According to the stories he was the greatest navigator of his time. They vanished for a number of years. From 1307 to 1314."
"Interesting," said Holliday. "Saint-Clair was a Templar. The order was proscribed by King Philip in 1307. Saint-Clair would have been on the run from the king's men." Holliday paused. "Was it some sort of elopement? Were this Juliana and Saint-Clair lovers?"
"There is no evidence of that," said the nun coldly.
"What happened when they came back?"
"Jean de Saint-Clair reappeared in December of 1314, at the monastery of the Abbaye de Tiron in the town of Saint-Clair-sur-Epte. The Blessed Juliana joined the Convent of St. Agnes in Prague on Christmas Day of the same year."
"Good timing," said Holliday. "The Templars' two greatest enemies, Pope Clement and King Philip, both died in 1314; the Pope in April, the king in November. What about the ark?"
"There is no record of either Jean de Saint-Clair or the Blessed Juliana ever mentioning it again. Jean de Saint-Clair lived out his life as a monk and the Blessed Juliana became mother superior at the convent."
"They never saw each other again?"
"Not according to the convent archives."
"And the ark?"
"No one knows."
"A mystery then."
"It would seem so," said Sister Meg primly.
"Interesting," murmured Holliday, looking down at the sarcophagus.
"What is?"
"He's buried as a knight, not a monk. The wording on the plaque at his feet doesn't tally with the monastery at Tiron, either. It would have been more likely to have had a Mason's symbol-a compass and a square maybe-not an inscription in Latin. In Arcadia Est."
"In Arcadia I am," sad the nun, translating literally.
"Very Yoda-ish," said Holliday. "But what does it mean, exactly?"
"Arcadia was the romantic ideal during the Renaissance," replied the nun.
"But not in 1314," answered Holliday.
"Originally it was a Greek province," said Sister Meg. "It still is."
"Unlikely Saint-Clair would mention it on his grave."
"Then what?" Sister Meg said.
"It was the original name for the maritime provinces of Canada," said Holliday. "The first French settlers there-from around here actually-were referred to as Acadians. When they were thrown out by the English in 1775 a lot of them went to Louisiana. It's the origin of the name Cajun-Acadian with the A knocked off."
"Making history fit into your theory," said Sister Meg, the expression on her face not quite a sneer.
"If the shoe fits," Holliday said with a shrug.
"I'm not sure that it does."
"And I'm not sure that it doesn't," snapped Holliday. "Have you got a better idea?"
"Maybe it doesn't mean anything at all," said Sister Meg. "I'm certainly not going to Canada on a silly whim and a story about Cajuns."
"How about Prague?" Holliday responded.
"Excuse me?" Sister Meg said.
"You said your convent had archives," replied Holliday.
"Very complete ones, as a matter of fact. Although the old convent itself is now part of the National Gallery."
"Can you get us into the archives?"
"Us?"
"Why not? We both want to know what happened. I want to know where Saint-Clair went and you obviously want to know what happened to the ark, right?"
"I'm not sure it would be proper," said Sister Meg. She flushed again. Holliday couldn't help smiling. Innocent women didn't blush that easily. Either Sister Margaret Emily had a very fertile imagination for a nun or she had a past. She saw the smile and the blush became even darker. She scowled again angrily. "What are you smiling about?"
"You're blushing," said Holliday.
"I most certainly am not!"
"Could have fooled me, Sister."
"You're a boor," answered the nun.
"But you're still blushing."
"Go away!"
"France is still a relatively free country," said Holliday. "Liberty, Equality, Brotherhood… or in this case sisterhood. You go away first. I'll follow you all the way back to Prague. The Czech Republic is a free country now, too."
"You're insufferable!"
"Maybe, but that doesn't change the situation." Holliday held up a placating hand. "Listen, Sister, let's call a truce here. We both want the same thing. We're both historians. I know why Saint-Clair was considered to be the greatest navigator of his time and you're determined to find the True Ark. Why not share our knowledge, join forces?"
"I'm not sure I want to join forces with a man like you. I don't even like you."
"I'm hurt," Holliday said and grinned. "But we don't have to like each other to reach a common goal. We didn't much like the Russians during World War Two, either, but they were still our allies."
"I barely know you."
"It's a long drive to Prague," answered Holliday. "Your rental car or mine?"
4
Most movies, books and television shows refer to Central Intelligence Agency Headquarters as being located in Langley, Virginia. Appropriately enough, however, there is no such place; Langley was simply the name given to the old woodlot estate purchased by the federal government for the CIA's new offices back in the 1950s. The actual location is in the suburban district of McLean, Virginia.
The original CIA campus is now half a century old and looks it. Even the "new" addition is heading into its fourth decade of use. The huge computers, once state-of-the-art and requiring their own power lines, could now be replaced by a no-name knockoff PC from Wal-Mart. The most common physical ailment at the CIA is food poisoning and the cafeteria has been cited for more food and hygiene violations than any other government food service operation in the Washington area. The workers there simply cannot learn to wash their hands after using the toilet facilities.