The Templar Detective and the Unholy Exorcist Read online

  The Templar Detective and the Unholy Exorcist

  A Templar Detective Thriller

  by

  J. Robert Kennedy

  From the Back Cover

  Sometimes in the battle between good and evil, faith will betray you.

  Father Mercier is on a mission to save the souls of the possessed in the Kingdom of France, but he makes a mistake when he pries a young woman from the arms of her loving family in the sleepy village of Crécy-la-Chapelle.

  For this is the home of Templar Knight Sir Marcus de Rancourt and his men, and the young woman is a friend.

  Once word is received of her abduction, Sir Marcus and his men spring into action to not only try and save their friend, but uncover the shocking secret behind what motivates this unholy exorcist and his loyal followers.

  From USA Today and million copy bestselling author J. Robert Kennedy comes The Templar Detective and the Unholy Exorcist, an edge-of-your-seat historical thriller packed with mystery, suspense, and humor, that will have you burning through the pages late into the night.

  Get your copy of The Templar Detective and the Unholy Exorcist today, and find out what happens when you mess with a Templar Knight’s family and friends…

  About J. Robert Kennedy

  With over one million books sold, award winning and USA Today bestselling author J. Robert Kennedy has been ranked by Amazon as the #1 Bestselling Action Adventure novelist based upon combined sales. He is a full-time writer and the author of over forty international bestsellers including the smash hit James Acton Thrillers. He’s married, has an adult daughter, and is likely hard at work on his next book.

  What readers are saying about J. Robert Kennedy:

  “Kennedy rules the genre!”

  “A master storyteller.”

  “Kennedy kicks ass in this genre.”

  “A writer who tells what we are thinking but sometimes afraid to say.”

  “If you want fast and furious, if you can cope with a high body count, most of all if you like to be hugely entertained, then you can't do much better than J. Robert Kennedy.”

  “One of the best writers today.”

  “Cussler move over. Kennedy is here to stay.”

  “I'm hooked on Paterson, Connelly, Child, Flynn and this book got me hooked on this writer."

  “J. Robert Kennedy is one of my favorite authors. His books are easy to read and I feel like the characters are family.”

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  Find out more at www.jrobertkennedy.com.

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  Books by J. Robert Kennedy

  The Templar Detective Thrillers

  The Templar Detective

  The Templar Detective and the Parisian Adulteress

  The Templar Detective and the Sergeant's Secret

  The Templar Detective and the Unholy Exorcist

  The James Acton Thrillers

  The Protocol

  Brass Monkey

  Broken Dove

  The Templar’s Relic

  Flags of Sin

  The Arab Fall

  The Circle of Eight

  The Venice Code

  Pompeii’s Ghosts

  Amazon Burning

  The Riddle

  Blood Relics

  Sins of the Titanic

  Saint Peter’s Soldiers

  The Thirteenth Legion

  Raging Sun

  Wages of Sin

  Wrath of the Gods

  The Templar’s Revenge

  The Nazi’s Engineer

  Atlantis Lost

  The Cylon Curse

  The Special Agent Dylan Kane Thrillers

  Rogue Operator

  Containment Failure

  Cold Warriors

  Death to America

  Black Widow

  The Agenda

  Retribution

  The Delta Force Unleashed Thrillers

  Payback

  Infidels

  The Lazarus Moment

  Kill Chain

  Forgotten

  The Detective Shakespeare Mysteries

  Depraved Difference

  Tick Tock

  The Redeemer

  Zander Varga, Vampire Detective Series

  The Turned

  Table of Contents

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  Table of Contents

  Beginning

  Author's Note

  Preface

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  33

  34

  35

  36

  37

  38

  39

  40

  41

  42

  43

  44

  45

  46

  47

  48

  49

  50

  51

  52

  53

  54

  55

  56

  57

  58

  59

  60

  61

  62

  63

  64

  65

  66

  Acknowledgments

  Don't Miss Out!

  Thank You!

  About the Author

  Also by the Author

  For my grandmother, Myrtle “Nanny” Lynk, stolen from us too soon.

  “And there was in their synagogue a man with an unclean spirit; and he cried out, saying, Let us alone; what have we to do with thee, thou Jesus of Nazareth? Art thou come to destroy us? I know thee who thou art, the Holy One of God. And Jesus rebuked him, saying, Hold thy peace, and come out of him. And when the unclean spirit had torn him, and cried with a loud voice, he came out of him.”

  Mark 1:23-26, King James Version

  “When the unclean spirit is gone out of a man, he walketh through dry places, seeking rest; and finding none, he saith, I will return unto my house whence I came out. And when he cometh, he findeth it swept and garnished. Then goeth he, and taketh to him seven other spirits more wicked than himself; and they enter in, and dwell there: and the last state of that man is worse than the first.”

  Luke 11:24-26, King James Version

  Author's Note

  This is the fourth novel in this series, and for those who have read the others and embraced these characters as so many of you have, please feel free to skip this note, as you will have already read it.

  The word “detective” is believed to have originated in the mid-nineteenth century, however, that doesn’t mean the concept of someone who investigated crime originated less than two hundred years ago. Crime long pre-dated this era, and those who investigated it as well.

  The following historical thriller is intended to be an entertaining read for all, with the concept of a “Templar Detective” a fun play on a modern term. The dialog is intentionall
y written in such a way that today’s audiences can relate, as opposed to how people might have spoken in Medieval France, where, of course, they would have conversed in French and not English, with therefore completely different manners of speaking. This does not mean they will be speaking to each other as rappers and gangsters, but will instead communicate in ways that imply comfort and familiarity, as we would today. If you are expecting, “Thou dost hath offended me, my good sir,” then prepareth thyself for disappointment. If, however, you are looking for a fast-paced adventure, with plenty of action, mystery, and humor, then you’ve come to the right place.

  Enjoy.

  Preface

  The concept of demonic possession is featured prominently in the Bible and other holy texts, as well as the oral histories of many cultures. Saving these lost souls was the duty of shamans, medicine men or women, and eventually, in Catholicism, priests.

  And the task was never taken lightly. While there were few rules initially against undertaking the task, as the Bible indicated even laypeople could perform exorcisms in the name of Jesus Christ, by the Middle Ages, it was mostly the work of priests, and laypeople were forbidden from using any of the prayers reserved for priests when performing an exorcism.

  Today, most believe that those possessed by demons are actually mentally ill, often schizophrenics, and their “demonic” symptoms are merely those of their affliction. This understanding, however, is relatively new, and few, if any, in medieval France, would have even considered mental illness as a possibility, leaving thousands to be treated as evil, requiring the services of an exorcist to save them from damnation.

  These well-meaning clergymen were performing these rituals at what they felt was great risk to themselves, to save those who didn’t need saving, where a lack of scientific understanding, that void filled with superstition, led to the torture of thousands.

  But what if the tables were turned?

  1

  Outside Crécy-la-Chapelle, Kingdom of France

  1298 AD

  Isabelle Leblanc hugged her knees tight, long having given up tugging at the irons gripping her ankles, the chains binding her to the others suffering the same fate. Whimpering, crying women, all young like her, pleading to be let go, begging to be returned to their homes, or some, like her, sitting in numbed silence, trying to make sense of what had happened.

  They were held in a type of wagon she had never seen, one with metal bars for sides. It was freezing cold, the elements of a blustery January provided no challenge by the gaps in the bars, nor by their clothes, as they had been taken from their homes as they had been found, with no time given to change.

  She herself had been torn from her home, dragged to the village center, and accused of the most heinous of things by a priest she had never seen before, supported by twelve monks in long dark robes, none of whom had revealed their faces. These men, now on horseback, surrounded the wagon driven by the priest she had heard referred to as Father Mercier, providing protection to the small procession as it moved, she presumed, to the next town to kidnap yet another victim.

  Yet that wasn’t what was going on at all, if Mercier was to be believed.

  If the priest was to be taken at his word, they were all possessed by demons, and he was taking them to save their souls, to rid them of the evil that possessed them, and when finished, they would be returned home to their families, cleansed of that which had taken them over.

  But she wasn’t possessed.

  She couldn’t be.

  Could she?

  Would she even know?

  She assumed she would, though perhaps that was part of the trickery of the Devil at play. And these other women with her? With the exception of the creature in the far corner, none seemed anything but normal. Though the exception was anything but. A snarling, barking mess of a woman, barely recognizable as human, clearly possessed by something not of this earth.

  And she terrified them all.

  She alone lent credence to this entire situation.

  A situation she had no idea how she would escape.

  If only Sir Marcus were here!

  Sir Marcus de Rancourt, a Templar Knight who now lived in her village with his sergeant and two squires, had left for business in Paris earlier this very day. If he had been there, he would have come for her, she was certain.

  Shouts behind them snapped her from her spiral of self-pity, and had her pressed against the bars along with the others, as three horses galloped past then blocked the path of the wagon. An angry conversation was taking place, only the stray word caught, but it didn’t matter.

  She knew these men.

  And they were here for her.

  David and Jeremy, the two squires of Sir Marcus.

  And the bastard Garnier, responsible for her current situation.

  She had been saved.

  Relief washed over her and her shoulders heaved as tears of joy erupted.

  Then she froze.

  The monks surrounding the wagon tossed their robes aside and drew swords, pointing them toward the new arrivals.

  This can’t be happening!

  It made no sense. Armed monks?

  Then the wagon moved again.

  What’s going on?

  She pressed against the bars, shoving her head through as they passed David, Jeremy, and Garnier. She stretched out a hand toward them, and she saw David stop Jeremy from taking it.

  “Please! Help me!”

  David’s head sank in shame, and Jeremy stared at her, tears in his eyes, as Garnier covered his face.

  “Why have you forsaken me?” she cried, stretching through the bars even farther, but she was given no answer, only helpless stares filled with regret.

  She collapsed back to the floor, her arm still shoved through the bars, her sobs racking her body in waves. Why had they let them take her? Why had these men, whom she considered friends, allowed her to be kidnapped by this priest, who claimed she was possessed? Didn’t they know she wasn’t? Didn’t they know she was innocent? Didn’t they know Father Mercier had made a mistake?

  She curled into a ball, praying to God for forgiveness for whatever it was she had done that was so horrible, it deserved a punishment such as this.

  And as she prayed for deliverance from this exorcist who had taken her, her thoughts turned to the sin she had committed that day against poor Garnier, and she knew, deep down, exactly why she was here, condemned with the others.

  And part of her felt she deserved whatever punishment the Lord had in store for her.

  2

  Chantilly Forest, Kingdom of France

  One week earlier

  Father Mercier flicked the reins, his heart at once filled with the power of the Lord, and the ache of the pain he shared with those locked away behind him, their poor souls awaiting the deliverance he would soon bring them. While it was the demons that possessed them that wailed and cried in protest, begging their demonic lord to free them from their shackles, those innocent souls trapped within would have their possessors exorcised in due course.

  It wouldn’t be long before the wagon was full, then they would return to his church, perform the rituals, and if successful, return the innocent left behind to their families and loved ones. He smiled, drawing a deep breath, as he thought of all the good he had done over the past couple of years.

  “You seem happy.”

  Father Mercier nodded. “I am. Doing the Lord’s work always makes me happy.”

  “There is no better work.”

  “I agree. And though it shames me to think of a reward for all I have done, I still take solace in what you told me.”

  “Of your mother?”

  “Yes.” He stole a quick glance at his companion. “Of how you said her condemned soul would be freed by what we are doing here.”

  “And it will be, I assure you. You simply have to have faith.”

  Mercier’s chest ached with the words. “You know my faith never wavers.”

  “As it s
houldn’t. The work you do is necessary, and may take a lifetime, but the countless souls you are saving through your sacrifice will not only grant you access into the Kingdom of Heaven, but your mother as well.”

  Mercier’s smile spread. “That’s all I want. My own fate is not why I do this. It is all for my mother, and for the poor wretched souls like those young women behind me.”

  “You are a good man.”

  A rush of pride washed through him. “From you, that means everything.” He stared past the escort in front of him, noticing another carriage approaching on the narrow road. He pulled the wagon as far to the side as he could, his escort of one dozen devout monks, specially trained to deal with the demons he encountered on an almost daily basis, guiding their horses out of the way as well.

  The carriage approached slowly on the snow-covered road, the coachman and his companion both tipping their hats as they passed. Mercier bowed his head with a smile, then as the carriage came up beside him, he saw a beautiful creature lean out the window, her long blond hair in curls, topped with the prettiest of hats, her cheeks a rosy glow brought on by the chill in the air, and some sort of applied reddish hue.

  She was clearly from a wealthy family, and her manner of dress and bearing suggested a pampered upbringing, unlike those behind him. Her beauty suggested she had been sculpted by the most gifted of artisans.

  And such beauty, he knew, would never have been created by God’s hand, for no woman should ever be so beautiful. This was the work of the most evil of all artisans.

  This was the work of Satan himself.

  He stared at her, a smile of recognition at what he had stumbled upon spreading. And she returned the smile, a smile that soon turned into a sneer, her eyes glaring back at him, red, wicked, as if the flames of Hell burned behind them.