by Robyn Young
Following yesterday’s assembly, he had called an urgent meeting of the Brethren, but only Robert and Thomas, their English brother, had attended. Will had been distracted, by both Edward’s demands and Hugues’s troubling absence, and their discussion ended unsatisfactorily with nothing decided. Afterward, he looked for Hugues in the Great Hall at supper, but there was no sign of him and he went to his dormitory after Compline, plagued by concerns. He had lain awake long into the night, the knife that remained beneath his pallet a tangible presence in the gloom.
As Hugues moved to sit beside Brian le Jay, his gaze fell on Will, but if he noticed the questioning look he showed no sign of it, his eyes flicking away as King Edward took his place.
Jacques looked weary, but his voice was resolute as he addressed the assembly. “I have spent many hours in discussion with my officials, but my conclusion remains the same. To unite our order with the Knights of St. John would do the ongoing struggle for the Holy Land more harm than good. I cannot agree to this,” he said, turning to Bertrand de Got.
The bishop, who appeared pale and drained, stood. “I too have had time to think upon this matter.” He hesitated. Will frowned, seeing him glance at Edward. “I have had time to think,” Bertrand repeated. “And I believe you are right.”
Murmurs of surprised approval greeted his words. Jacques silenced them.
“For now, Master Templar,” continued Bertrand, looking at the grand master with something like regret, “I will defer to your experience and shall return to Rome to pass my recommendation to His Holiness that the Temple and the Hospital remain as separate orders, each working individually toward a new Crusade.”
Will was as taken aback as the rest of the knights at this abrupt change of heart on the bishop’s part, but unlike the others he wasn’t glad. He felt uneasy. Something else, some other agenda, was playing out on the stage in front of him; he just didn’t know what it was. The answer wasn’t long in coming.
The grand master remained standing as Bertrand sat. “On the matter that was raised yesterday by Lord Edward, I also have a response.” The grand master nodded to the king. “The Temple will give you what you ask for. We will support your move against Scotland.”
Will jerked to his feet. A few of the men sitting beside him glanced at him, but he only had eyes for Edward, who appeared cool, composed and not at all surprised by the grand master’s decision.
“Master le Jay will work with you to this end, but only knights from English preceptories will form part of your force. I will not anger the Temple’s allies in France and elsewhere.”
Edward inclined his head to Jacques. “That is certainly understandable, although it would be advantageous for me to use your principal preceptory in Scotland as a base. I plan to have crossed the Tweed above Berwick by Easter. Once the town has capitulated, the gateway to Scotland will be open and I will advance north. Balantrodoch will be a useful staging post in which to rest my troops and from where I could proceed directly into Edinburgh.”
“This can be arranged.”
“I presume the knights at Balantrodoch will agree to this, no matter any partisan inclinations they may have?” As the king spoke, his eyes fell on Will, who was still standing.
“They will obey any order that comes from me,” responded Jacques. “In addition to fifty knights from this preceptory, we will send one hundred sergeants to augment your infantry. Master le Jay will agree the rest of the details with you. He will command our forces personally.”
“I welcome your commitment,” said Edward smoothly. “And, with your pledged assistance, I believe this battle is already won.”
The grand master added a few words about how he was looking forward to discussing his Crusade with the king, once the troubles in Scotland had been resolved, but Will wasn’t listening.
As the meeting drew to a close, Edward got up to speak to one of his advisors. “Summon the magnates. We meet at Newcastle on the first day of March. From there we head north.”
Seeing Hugues walking down the aisle toward the doors, Will pushed past the men on the bench and followed him into the courtyard. “Hugues!”
Hugues turned angrily. “You will address me in the proper manner, Commander.”
“What happened? Why did Jacques agree to this?”
“Keep your voice down,” snapped Hugues, as knights filed out of the Chapter House behind them. He gestured to the officials’ building. “In there.” When they entered Hugues’s chambers, Will went to speak, but the visitor beat him to it. “You need to stop this. Your behavior is starting to be noticed. It’s been four years since Acre. It was devastating, yes, but it is time you ceased dwelling on it.”
“I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye, Hugues, but I respect you and your position, which is why I initiated you into the Anima Templi. You have to talk to Jacques. You have to persuade him from this course of action.”
“I cannot do that.”
“Why not?” Will stared after him as he strode to the window.
Hugues looked down on the courtyard. Edward’s tall form was moving among the knights, the circlet on his head a halo of gold in the sunlight. “I tried to tell you in Paris, but you wouldn’t listen.” He turned. “The West is changing. Jacques is part of an old order, still looking to the East, still holding the Cross to Jerusalem. We cannot allow him to drag the Temple with him.”
“I agree. You and I, we will talk to him.”
“I’ve known him less than a month and I already see he will not be persuaded from this course. Jacques is a military man, a general through and through. You’ve been on the road with him beating the drums of war for two years. If he could have been converted from this aim, you surely would have done so by now.” Hugues went on as Will faltered. “Listen to me. Jacques will go his own way if he has to take up his sword and march east alone. We cannot stop him, but we can safeguard the order. In this changing world, territory is everything. It is what Philippe and Edward are fighting so fiercely for. With territory comes power and with power comes autonomy. We stood beyond the laws of kings and princes for almost two centuries because only the pope had control over us, but now the pope’s power is waning. God’s vicar on earth does not own enough of it to match the rising authority of these warrior kings. If we do not cut ourselves away from the papacy we may find our strength diminished. But with a secure base of our own we can continue to expand and grow. We can continue to be one of the most powerful and affluent brotherhoods on this earth.” Hugues’s eyes were bright. “We can control kings, keep royal treasuries, hold sway on sea and land, whether selling our wool at the trade fairs or protecting merchant ships, just as we did at the height of our power. With the Crusades over, we no longer have purpose in the eyes of the world. We must make our own purpose, or someone else will decide it for us. It has already begun, with the pope’s desire to merge us with the Hospitallers.”
Will was shaking his head. “And what of the Anima Templi? What of its aims?”
“The Brethren have no real power or direction anymore.” Hugues continued. “You know that, Will, or else you would have started to rebuild us as soon as Acre fell. What have you done to restore us?” He raised a hand. “I’m not blaming you. Indeed, what could you have done? After the Holy Land was lost, how could the Anima Templi continue its aims?”
Will didn’t answer. Hugues’s words just echoed what he had been asking himself all this time: what now was the point in the Anima Templi? He remembered the seneschal, the man he had always thought would become Everard’s successor, charging him to continue their work in the West and to safeguard the Temple from all enemies, within and without. But the seneschal couldn’t have known what an impossible task this would be. He sacrificed himself for this, a small voice said, but Will forced it away.
Hugues was nodding at his silence, taking it for acceptance. “But with the Temple’s future secured, we can rebuild the Anima Templi, continue those aims. You’ve said it a thousand times: the Brethren cannot
exist without the Temple, without the money and resources it provides us, albeit unknowingly. If we allow the order to be taken over by other forces, we will find ourselves crushed within the fist of someone else’s ambition.” Hugues paused. “Edward can help us achieve what we want, Will. Indeed, he could be our greatest ally.”
Will felt something leaden go through him. “Dear God, Hugues. What have you done?”
“What I had to.”
“It wasn’t Jacques who agreed to aid Edward’s war. It was you. You persuaded the grand master to go along with it.”
Hugues thrust out his chest. “Yes.”
“Whatever Edward promised you is a lie. He’s using you.”
“He has already helped us. In return for military assistance in Scotland, he pledged to dissuade Bishop de Got from merging the orders. That has happened. When order is returned to Scotland, he will help us find a permanent base, a place from which we can decide our own future.”
“You said it yourself, Hugues: Edward wants territory for himself! Do you really believe he’ll create a state for a mighty, untouchable army, where it can grow even more powerful? Cruel deceiver and ambitious tyrant Edward may be, but fool he is not.”
“He will see the benefits of having an alliance with such a brotherhood,” insisted Hugues.
“Yes, as a personal army he can call on at will. You’re playing right into his hands!” Will crossed to him. “Hugues, I swear this will be the end of us. You aren’t saving the Temple with this alliance, you’re destroying it!” He faltered. “You remember Garin de Lyons?”
“How could I forget? He stole the Book of the Grail and almost exposed the Anima Templi. Robert told me all about him”
“What Robert doesn’t know, what no one else knows, is who he did it for. At the fall of Acre, Garin confessed he had been working for Edward. The attack on the Templar party conveying the crown jewels to Paris: that was Edward. His plan to retake the jewels failed and when Garin told him about the Book, Edward used him to hunt it down. The king was planning to blackmail the Brethren to help him expand his kingdom. He knew we controlled the Temple, its wealth and power, and he was going to use our resources for himself. His attempts to capture the Book also failed and maybe that would have been the end of it only Everard misguidedly made him guardian of the Anima Templi. Edward tried to use this position to fund his war against Wales, but by then Everard and I had become suspicious of him and we endeavored to cut ourselves away from his influence.” Will’s words were coming in a rush. “Edward sent Garin to force us to yield and while he was in the Holy Land, trying to worm his way into my life, Garin discovered Grand Master de Beaujeu’s plan to steal the Black Stone of Mecca.” He watched the emotions changing on Hugues’s face: surprise, shock, incredulity. “On Edward’s behalf, he worked against me, trying to get the Stone. In holding the Muslims’ holy relic to ransom, he believed Edward would get what he wanted: money for a future assault on Scotland and his own Crusade.”
Hugues moved away. “Garin told you this?” he asked finally.
“Yes.”
“Where is he now? What happened to him?”
“He died at Acre.”
“You are sure?”
When Will nodded, Hugues sighed roughly. “Then none of this can be proven. Garin may have been lying to you. Is there other proof?”
Will went to speak, then shook his head. “No,” he admitted, frustrated, “but—”
“Do you know what I think this is about?” Hugues went to his desk and leaned against it, arms folded. “I think this is about your own dislike of Edward. It was you, not Everard, who came to the conclusion that Edward was working against us. Everard said as much in his writings. He was careful about what he did reveal, but reading between the lines that much at least was evident. He spoke of Garin as a wayward arrow and believed he was working for himself in the Holy Land. If you confronted Garin, no doubt he would have implicated someone else, so as not to take the blame, which, from everything everyone has told me about him, seems very likely.”
“No, that isn’t—”
“I think,” Hugues cut across him, “that there was some part of you that was jealous when the priest, your mentor, appointed Edward as guardian. Until then, you had been his closest confidant. With the arrival of Edward, that changed. And of course there are your ties with Scotland. I know you still have family there and I know this decision to go to war in your homeland must be hard for you to accept, but you cannot let personal feelings cloud your judgment of the wider implications here. Edward could very well be the Temple’s only chance for survival. I cannot allow anything to jeopardize that. I’m sorry, Will. I have to trust my instincts and my instincts tell me it was Garin, and Garin alone, who betrayed us.”
Will felt the weight of doom pushing down on him. “You cannot do this!”
“My decision is final.”
“I am head here!” shouted Will, reaching for his sword.
Hugues’s eyes narrowed. “Head of a secret brotherhood no one knows exists.” He took a step toward Will, his hand falling to his own sword. “I am visitor of the Temple, second only to the grand master. Tell me, whose power is the greater? You will accept this, or I will have you removed from this order.” His tone softened. “Once Edward puts down these few rebels in Scotland, the realm will be the better for it and we will have what we need to safeguard the Temple.”
“Edward is carving himself a nation out of flesh and blood.”
“What was Everard’s expression? Did he not say peace sometimes has to be bought with blood? We have to acknowledge that in the pursuit of freedom some things have to be sacrificed.” Hugues took his hand from his sword hilt. “Come, Will. Support me in this. Do not make me exercise my authority over you.”
Will turned and made for the door. Not heeding Hugues’s calls, he raced down the passageway. Bursting out of the officials’ building, he sprinted across the yard. Horses were being led out of the stables. Edward was still there, talking with Jacques. Entering the knights’ quarters, Will took the stairs to his dormitory two at a time. He threw open the door, went to his pallet and pulled out his sack. His mind was filled with the face of his father, a proud Scot and a Templar, but above all a man of peace. Will tipped the contents of the bag onto his bed. A pair of hose tumbled out, along with a pendant on a tarnished chain, the creased letter from his sister, a couple of quills and his undershirt. Will grabbed the shirt and shook it out. Even as he did so it felt wrong, too light.
“Is this what you’re after?”
Will jerked around to see Robert in the doorway, holding the knife. He stood. “You don’t know what is happening, Robert.”
“No? So you’re not planning to murder a king? I saw you,” Robert said sharply in response to Will’s silence. “Saw you kick that sack under there with a face full of guilt yesterday. You’ve been planning it since Hugues told you we were coming here, haven’t you?”
Will hesitated. Was that true? He didn’t know his own thoughts anymore. This numbness, shot through with unexpected jolts of pain and memory, was unbearable.
“I know you blame Edward for Garin’s actions, Will, but no matter what wrong he has done, no matter his ambitions for a Crusade and his attempts to use the Anima Templi, it was Garin, not him, who was responsible for what happened to Elwen. Garin, not Edward, who started that fire.”
“Don’t say her name, God damn you!”
“You didn’t want to speak of it, but Simon and Rose talked to me a little on the voyage to Cyprus. I don’t understand all of what happened, but I know this has to stop. We’ve been walking around you as if on thin ice since we left Acre, me, Simon, all of us. But this has gone too far.” Robert shook his head. “It is my fault in part. I should have spoken to you about it, but I was scared of your reaction. Jesus, Will, can you not see what you have become?” He took a step forward. “What you’re planning is regicide. You’ll go to hell.”
“I’m already halfway there.”
&
nbsp; “The Brethren were formed to keep the peace through diplomacy, not violence. If you go down into that courtyard with this knife all of that ends. You will destroy yourself and the Anima Templi. What Robert de Sablé and the others after him—your father, Hasan, Everard—created is greater than you or me, greater than hatred or revenge.”
Will was pacing, his hands pushing through his hair.
Robert watched him. “You’ll draw that knife and one of two things will happen. You will kill Edward and be killed yourself, or else be cut down before you get to him. Either way, it will mean your death and maybe some part of you wants that, but you’ll be damning us all. Who will lead us? Who will continue the work?”
Will stopped pacing. “The Anima Templi is already damned. It was Hugues, not Jacques, who pledged to support Edward.”
Robert frowned, but he pressed on. “We’ll talk to him.”
“Hugues doesn’t know Edward like I do and neither do you.” Will sat heavily on his pallet, his head in his hands. He told Robert about Garin’s confession. “I should have told you before,” he said in response to the knight’s stunned expression. “But I couldn’t bring myself to speak of it.”
Robert went to him and crouched down. “Let me talk to Hugues.”
“It is too late. Jacques and le Jay are in this now. The time for diplomacy is past. I will not let what my father died trying to protect and what Everard spent his life building become used for Edward’s ambition. Peace is not worth that price. I would rather see the Anima Templi ended than become a pawn for him. He has ruined my life. I will give him nothing more.” Will looked at the knife in Robert’s hand. “If I do not do this, he will destroy Scotland and we will help him.”
Robert stood. “You’re not a killer, Will.”
Will looked away. He was on that mole again, his sword stabbing out. He felt that pure shock of elated triumph as the blade punched into Garin’s back. Elias had told him not to forget what he was capable of, but he was all too aware of that. Deception, selfishness, weakness, murder: they were the things he was capable of. He drew his falchion. Maybe this blade was more fitting; maybe it was good that Edward would see him coming.
