Brethren: An Epic Adventure of the Knights Templar (38 page)

“Armand de Périgord had been impressed by my work and after six months in Outremer, on the death of a member, he brought me into the Anima Templi of which he was head. He had dispensed with the position of Guardian, preferring to keep our business within the confines of the Temple. There were several members, including a priest who was older than I am now, who had formed the original twelve sworn in by de Sablé. They remembered Hattin and they remembered de Ridefort. Armand made them uneasy. He confused the lines between the Temple and the Anima Templi, which, until then, were two very separate organizations. For me, though, he was a man with the ambition and energy to drive us into a new age of enlightenment. He shared my interest in the collation of knowledge and was keen to advance my work, granting me liberties and favors beyond those enjoyed by the other members. I did not see it then, but he was already grooming me for a task he had planned for some time.

“Armand had an obsession, not uncommon in men of a more extravagant disposition, with the tales of Arthur. He envisaged a kingdom, created solely for the Temple, where the Order would reign autonomous. He wanted to build Camelot in Palestine with himself as Arthur and the Anima Templi as some kind of Round Table, which would uphold the ideals of the Temple through all the future ages of mankind. Until that point, potential members were pinpointed and assessed by the Brethren, then approached cautiously and invited in. Armand, however, wanted a formal initiation.

“Some years after my own inception into the Brethren, he charged me to write a code that would set out our ideals and serve as our guide for generations to come. Within it would also be an initiation for new members. This initiation was to be based upon the story of Perceval, and the allegory, similar to many such Grail Romances, would hide the aims and intentions of the Anima Templi. A postulant, when initiated, would now undergo a ritual re-enactment of these aims: unwitting and relying on faith, like Perceval on his Grail quest. And, like Perceval, he would be subjected to certain trials, all of which related to what we, as a group, were working toward.” Everard sighed at Will’s nonplussed expression. “He would, for example, be given the Communion chalice and be told that it was filled with the blood of his brothers: men he would call equal under God. He would then be told to drink it.”

“He drank blood?”

Everard tutted. “It was wine. As I said, the initiation in the Book of the Grail was an allegory. We did not mean these things literally. But the postulant didn’t know that. He had to have faith in what we were asking him to do.” Everard shook his head. “I didn’t agree with Armand. I thought it was, at best, cabalistic nonsense and, at worst, a risk to our secrecy. But I could not refuse him. And so I wrote it.” He smiled slightly. “The Book of the Grail was my finest work. I smoothed the calfskin with pumice until it was almost translucent and cut each skin to the exact same length and width. I used red lead for the text and scored each heading in gold and silver. Every page was bordered by intricate illustrations. It took me four years.

“During that time, Armand began to change. It was gradual and few of us noticed it initially. But after a while, we couldn’t fail to see what was happening. Armand’s drive and ambition to preserve our higher ideals was growing into a ruthless desire for supremacy, over the Brethren, the Temple and Outremer itself. He began to focus on victory rather than peace, favoring power over friendship. This culminated in a vicious attack on our former allies, the Knights of St. John.

“A dispute had arisen within Acre’s government, the body formed of nobles, merchants and knight-masters from various Western kingdoms that collectively controlled the city, with the claim of the German emperor, Frederick II, that he was entitled to imperial authority. The Hospitallers, led by their Grand Master, Guillaume de Châteauneuf, supported Frederick’s claim. The Temple, led by Armand, opposed him. The quarrel turned ugly and ended with Armand, in a show of power, ordering a siege of the Hospitaller compound in Acre. This siege lasted six months, during which time we prevented food and medical supplies from entering the stronghold and any knights from leaving.” Everard frowned and looked away. “I remember our knights laughing about how men in the compound had come to the gates, begging,
crying
for food, and how our forces had thrown rotting fruit at them. Many died, from starvation, or sickness and still we refused them aid. They have never forgiven us.” He looked back at Will. “Some of us protested against this action, but others of our circle supported it. Armand ejected two members for speaking out against him and the rest of us who opposed him could do nothing but watch. With no Guardian to mediate, the schism between us grew wider, even after the siege on the Hospitallers had ended. Until, in 1244, came the battle that almost destroyed us.

“It may have been prevented, had the Brethren been allowed to negotiate with the then ruler of Egypt, Sultan Ayyub. But Armand had already made an alliance with the Prince of Damascus, an enemy of Ayyub, in exchange for several of our strongholds being returned to us, and forbade any communication. I wasn’t in Acre at the time. Had I been I think I would have disobeyed that order. I was in Jerusalem, which we had retaken some years earlier from the Muslims. While I was in the city the Khorezmian army, under order of Sultan Ayyub, attacked. God, that I hadn’t been there to see it.” Everard’s eyes drifted to the stumps of his missing fingers. “It was more luck than skill that saved me. That night I met Hasan. He had deserted the Khorezmian army and agreed to escort me safe to Acre.” A look of sorrow crossed Everard’s face and it was some moments before he continued. When he did, his voice was hoarse.

“When I reached Acre, I found Armand gone with the rest of the army to Herbiya. The sands outside that village saw the largest Christian force mustered since Hattin and they saw a similarly catastrophic defeat. More than five thousand of our soldiers died. Armand never returned. He was captured by the then Mamluk commander, Baybars. After Herbiya, myself and others tried to restore the Anima Templi. But the rift caused by Armand was too wide to be bridged. It was the end of us and we disbanded. Or so the others thought. I, however, wasn’t willing to let de Sablé’s cause die. I knew that there were five of the twelve whom I could trust implicitly and who had remained true to the cause. One of these you knew. Jacques de Lyons.”

Will was stunned. “Jacques? Garin’s uncle?”

“These five men agreed to help me continue our work. I was elected head of the Brethren and returned here with Hasan to concentrate on gathering manuscripts for our continued collation of knowledge, followed by Jacques some years later. The others remained in Acre.

“Hasan has kept me in touch with them, sending and receiving messages. But with Jacques dead and myself isolated, we are too few to make the sort of difference we once could. Over these past years I’ve seen the bridges we managed to build slowly crumble under the wheels of Baybars’s war and the egoism of our own leaders who refuse to negotiate with him. I would have returned to Acre long ago, to try to rebuild what was lost, recruit more members and appoint another Guardian, but then the Book of the Grail was stolen.

“I don’t know why I kept it. I never even used it. I think some fatuous part of me felt that by destroying it, I would be destroying the Anima Templi. I stored it in the vaults. I assumed it would be safe there. But someone, I do not know whom, forced a cleric to steal it and it has been missing ever since. Until the troubadour emerged with it.” Everard shook his head. He looked exhausted. “Last night the Visitor told me that the Dominicans had arrested Pierre de Pont-Evêque. If he had anything to do with the book’s theft the Brethren may still be in danger now that the Dominicans have him.”

“His brother found it.”

Everard looked up. “What? Whose brother?”

Will told Everard what Elwen had told him.

“It was lying in a wine shop gathering dust for six years?” said Everard incredulously. “De Pont-Evêque had nothing to do with its theft? And the book?” he asked after a moment. “Did Hasan have it on him when he died? Do you know where it is now?”

“Elwen gave it to Hasan. If he was the man who was murdered last night…”

“He was,” Everard cut across him. “There would be no other reason why he did not return to me.”

“The guards took his body to the lazar hospital outside Saint-Denis’s Gate. If he still had the book then I expect he would have been buried with it, or will be soon.” Will shrugged. “Unless the guards found it.”

“Then we had better hurry,” said Everard after a long pause.

Will felt as if he had been holding his breath since the priest had started speaking. Realizing that he wouldn’t be able to properly digest the significance of this all at once, he pushed the many questions he had to the back of his mind and focused on one. “If the book is just an extension of the Anima Templi—your code set within an allegory—why would anyone else want it? Why would someone have had the cleric steal it?”

“As I told you, it contains the aims and ideals of the Anima Templi. It could, along with the testimony of someone involved, act as proof of our existence and of what we are working toward.”

“And what is that?”

Everard threw off the blanket and rose from the bed. He brushed away Will’s attempt to help him and shuffled across the room to his bucket. “I have told you what I can.” He loosened his hose and voided a dark yellow trickle of urine into the bucket. “Will you help me, sergeant?” he asked curtly.

“How can you ask me to get involved in this?” said Will, standing. “After you used Elwen like you did without any thought of her safety? You’ve told me everything and nothing. Anathema, that’s what you said the world would think of the Anima Templi’s aims. Why would I want to help you to save something abhorrent?”

Everard turned, tying up his hose. “Your father did.”

Will stared at him. “What?”

“I said I never used the Book of the Grail, that was true, but I did initiate one new member.”

Will started to shake his head, but Everard continued before he could speak. “That is why James went to the Holy Land. He went for me, for the Anima Templi. And that is why I took you on as my apprentice. You’ve been helping me with my work for the Brethren for the last six years. All those translations you have done have been for us.”

“I don’t believe you,” murmured Will, feeling his world turn over, tipping him out into a dizzying void. He wanted to tell Everard that his father would have told him this, that James wouldn’t have kept such a secret from him. But he thought of how close his father had been with Jacques de Lyons in New Temple, the trips to France and the sudden departure to Palestine, and he couldn’t.

“I sent him there on an assignment,” Everard continued, watching the emotions change on Will’s face. “He went there to help stop this war. He made great headway in negotiations with the Mamluks and formed an important contact within Baybars’s circle. A contact that will perhaps serve to help end the current crisis that threatens everyone in Outremer. We must make peace with the Mamluks, or it will be the end of us.”

“My God.” Will sat heavily on the stool, his mind filled with the memory of the letter he had found in the solar at New Temple. It all came back to him:
the Brethren, our circle.
“That was him?” he whispered faintly.

“If we do not recover the book, if we do not make sure that it cannot fall into anyone else’s hands, then what your father has worked so hard to achieve could all be undone. Without the Brethren, this war will continue. That, for the moment, is all you need to know. I will tell you the rest in time, but until then please trust me in this, we mustn’t let that book go astray again.”

Will looked up suddenly. “Did you tell him that I hadn’t been knighted? Did you write and tell him that?”

“I didn’t see any need to. We keep contact between us to a minimum, to limit the risk of anyone discovering us.”

Will leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and put his head in his hands. He felt as if he had been living in a mirror image of the world that had just been smashed to reveal the real one behind it. Nothing he thought was true was. Everything had just been a reflection of reality, not reality itself. But welling up through his confusion, his shock and anger, rose a glimmer of hope. If this was true and his father had left on an assignment for the Anima Templi, then his father hadn’t left because of him. The glimmer became a beacon. If his father hadn’t left because of him then there was a chance, a
real
chance, that he would be able to make amends, that he could be James Campbell’s son again. Will took his head from his hands and looked up at Everard. “I will help you. But in return, you will initiate me. After that, I will go to Outremer to see my father.”

“We will go together, William,” replied Everard. “You have my word.”

Garin was in the yard opposite the knights’ quarters when he saw Will and Everard leave. He had been waiting there, impatient and restless, since he had seen Will enter. Heart quickening, he watched them head across to the stables, the priest leaning on Will for support. When they disappeared inside, he rose and moved closer to the long timber building. He could hear voices, Will’s and another he recognized, Simon’s. Through gaps in the wood he saw them moving through the stables. Garin walked up to the entrance and stepped cautiously inside. Simon was leading Will and Everard to the stalls farther down, where the palfreys were kept. They had their backs to him. Garin heard footsteps outside, coming closer. He slipped into an empty stall and pressed himself against the wall. The area was shadowy and concealed him well. He heard, but didn’t see someone enter the stables. Somewhere close by, a stall door creaked as it was opened.

A few minutes passed, then Garin heard the slow clopping of hooves and Will and Simon’s voices again. He risked a look around the stall door. Simon was leading two saddled palfreys into the yard. This had to be something to do with the book, Garin thought excitedly. Perhaps Elwen had given it to Will and now Will and his master were taking it somewhere. Everard looked far too frail to be leaving the preceptory unless for something important. This might be his best chance to take it. Will was unarmed and the old man posed no threat whatsoever.