The Author

The Author

Thursday, 5 May 2016

DOCTOR DOYLE AND THE MUNICH HORN - PART 2 "BOTSCHAFTER"

DOCTOR DOYLE AND THE MUNICH HORN - PART 2  "BOTSCHAFTER"




Dr Doyle and Ivan Terrablanche strode purposely away from Munchen Hauptbahnhof and quickly made their way to the Neues Rathaus in Marienplatz.  After checking their watches and making sure they were not being being followed, they edged past the neo-gothic building and made their way to the sanctuary of Peterskirche. 

The snow was now falling quicker and heavier and both were grateful when a side door next to the nave opened and a priest beckoned them in to the warmth of the church. 

Terrablanche gripped the hand of the white robed cleric and shook it vigorously. After recovering his hand, the priest walked them across the choir and down a couple of steps until they stood in front of a marble crypt inscribed in Latin and Germanic script. Dr Doyle quickly noticed the inscriptions on the tomb from an earlier encounter with Kahrl Heinz-Brunner, when he prevented the Nazi scholar from removing a sacred challis from a comparable crypt in Aachen. 
The similar but subtly different tomb was one a series of memorials dedicated to Frederica Barbarossa, also known as Frederick 1st of Germany, Holy Roman Emperor and within the German speaking world “Kaiser Rotbart”.  


The priest passed a sealed envelope to Dr Doyle who ripped open the seal and started to ingest the words before him. Although written in code, he soon realised that the Munich Horn was in fact a drinking horn that had been used by Barbarossa between 1122 and 1190 and again used by Frederick the Great, many centuries later. Barbarossa had in fact stolen the Horn from St Peters in Rome when he and his troops sacked Rome during the conquest of Italy and the Papal authorities had themselves been searching for the artifact ever since.  

The note further explained that in German mythology, Barbarossa was also known as the “Sleeping Hero” and that in Germany’s darkest hour he would awake from his slumber and once he had taken ein trinken from the Horn would lead the nation to a victory over who ever threatened the Fatherland.



This was a surprise to Dr Doyle as when he left England for Munich, he had been advised by his handlers that the Horn was a code name for a device that can pick up radio signals from the allies and break any code or encryption through a refraction of musical notes. This was now proven incorrect and Dr Doyle and the priest laughed at the incredibility of the presumed meaning of the Munich Horn.
Soon the marble structure was being edged away from its plinth through the brute force of Ivan Terrablanche and a crow bar, and slowly a gap was appearing that hinted at something stored beneath the memorial.  A few moments later the Doctor was holding a golden Horn inscribed with Saxon and Latin inscriptions.


The Horn was remarkably light and had been damaged; no doubt during a roaring drinking session after Barbarossa looted the Horn from Rome. The priest handed Dr Doyle a leather pouch which he carefully placed the object within.  Thoughts now turned to escaping from the Bavarian City without capture.  With this in mind, Dr Doyle and Ivan Terrablanche crept out of the crypt and although the snow storm was now a full blizzard headed towards the embankment of the river Isar.

Reaching the river they both untied a waiting rowing boat and swiftly rowed their way up river. After a couple of miles they disembarked and hailed a cab and headed for the Bahnhof where they hoped to catch a train to neutral Switzerland and safety.  

However, Dr Doyle's mind turned to an earlier trip to the city and the delights that he has sampled in the local stews and brothels.He licked his chapped lips and stroked his fat neck as he remembered the leather clad Lesbian Fraulein he used to visit on a daily basis, and although he overweight corpulent body would have trouble in raising his own Horn, he quickly beckoned to Terrablanche to follow him away from the station and back to the city center.

Unknown to them, Kahrl Heinz-Brunner sat silently drinking a stein of lager as he awaited their appearance in the dingy cellar at 15 Ausberg Strasse .   
 




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