The Brotherhood Of The Holy Shroud (30 page)

Pascal de Molesmes bowed his head. The duel had ended for the moment, but both men knew that neither victory nor defeat could be declared on either side.

At the gate of the bishop's palace, de Molesmes's servants were waiting beside his horse, a stallion as black as night, his most trusted companion in turbulent Constantinople.

Would he advise Balduino to go with his soldiers to the bishop's palace and force him to turn over the Mandylion? There was no other choice, it seemed. Innocent would never dare excommunicate Balduino, much less when he knew that the Mandylion would be in the keeping of the most Christian king Louis IX of France. They would lend it to Louis and they would put a high price on it, so that the empire might recover at least part of its lost glory.

The evening breeze was warm and soft, and the emperor's counselor decided to ride down by the shore of the Bosphorus before returning to the imperial palace. From time to time he liked to escape the oppressive walls of the palace, where intrigues, betrayal, and death lay behind every door, at every turning of the stair, and where it was not easy to know who your friends were and who wished you ill, given the refined art of dissembling practiced by the knights and ladies of the court. He trusted only Balduino, for whom, with the passing of the years, he had come to feel true affection, as in earlier days he had felt for good King Louis.

It had been many winters now since the king of France sent him to the court of the emperor to protect the gold the king had sent as payment for the valuable relics Balduino had sold him along with the lands of Namur. Louis had charged de Molesmes with remaining at the court and keeping him informed of all that happened in Constantinople. In a letter that de Molesmes himself had delivered to the emperor, Louis had commended Pascal de Molesmes to his nephew as a good Christian man who, the letter said, looked only to Balduino's good.

Balduino and he had felt a current of sympathy from the first moment, and there he was now, fifteen years later, the emperor's chancellor and friend. De Molesmes greatly admired Balduino's efforts to maintain the dignity of the empire, to preserve Constantinople, to resist the Bulgar pressure on the one side and the encroachments of the Saracens on the other.

If he had not pledged undying loyalty to King Louis and Balduino, he would have asked to join the Order of Templars years ago, so that he might do battle in the Holy Land. But fate had sent him to the heart of the court in Constantinople, where there were as many dangers to negotiate as on the field of battle.

The sun was beginning to drop below the horizon when he realized that he had ridden almost to the gate of the Temple's castle. He had great respect for Andre de Saint-Remy, the superior of the order, an austere and upright man who had chosen the cross and sword as his life. Both men were Frenchmen and nobles, and both had found their destiny in Constantinople.

De Molesmes felt a sudden desire to speak with his compatriot, but the shadows of night were falling and the knights would be at prayer. It would be better to wait until tomorrow to send a message to Saint-Remy and arrange a meeting, he thought.

Balduino slammed his fist into the wall. Fortunately, a tapestry softened the blow to his knuckles.

Pascal de Molesmes had told him in detail of his conversation with the bishop and the bishop's refusal to hand over the Mandylion.

The emperor had known that it was most unlikely that the bishop would voluntarily agree to his request, but he had prayed for that success most fervendy to God, prayed for a miracle to save the empire.

The Frenchman, unable to disguise his irritation at the emperor's display of emotion, looked at him reproachfully.

"Don't look at me like that! I am the most wretched of men!"

"My lord, be calm. The bishop will have no choice but to deliver the Mandylion over to us."

'And just how will that come about? Do you propose that I go and take it from him by force? Can you imagine the scandal that would cause? My subjects would never forgive me for taking the shroud from them-the shroud they consider to have miraculous properties-and Innocent would excommunicate me. And you tell me to be calm, as though there were a solution to this, when you know there is not."

"Kings must make difficult decisions, my lord, to save their kingdoms. You are now in that position. You must stop lamenting your fate and act."

The emperor sat in his regal chair, unable to hide the weariness that was upon him. It was bitter gall that he had tasted as emperor, and now the latest test with which his stewardship of the empire was presenting him was this unthinkable confrontation with the Church.

"Think of another solution."

"Do you really see another way out?"

"You are my chancellor-think!"

"My lord, the Mandylion belongs to you-claim what is yours, for the good of the empire. That is my counsel."

"Withdraw."

De Molesmes left the room and made his way to his study. There, to his surprise, he found Bartolome dos Capelos.

He greeted the Templar warmly, then asked about the superior and the other brothers he knew. After a few minutes of polite conversation, he asked what had brought dos Capelos to the palace.

"My superior, Andre de Saint-Remy, desires an audience with the emperor," the Portuguese Templar said gravely.

"What is happening, my good friend? Is there bad news?"

Dos Capelos had orders not to speak a word more. Clearly the palace had heard nothing of the delicate condition of Louis of France, for when the Comte de Dijon left Damietta, the city was still in the hands of the Franks and the army was advancing victoriously.

"It has been some time since Andre de Saint-Remy has met with the emperor, and many things have happened in those months. The audience will be of interest to both men," dos Capelos replied, sidestepping the question.

De Molesmes realized that the Portuguese would tell him nothing more, but the importance of the audience the Templar superior was requesting was obvious.

"I note your petition, my brother. As soon as the emperor determines the day and hour for the audience, I will inform Andre de Saint-Remy, in person if I may, thereby to enjoy a few minutes' conversation with him." • "I would beg that the audience be held as soon as possible."

"I will see to it-you know I am a friend of the Temple. May God be with you."

"And with you, my lord."

Pascal de Molesmes was pensive after the meeting with the Templar. The inscrutable expression on dos Capelos's face indicated that the Temple knew something of vital importance that it could tell only the emperor. What would it want in exchange?

The Templars were the only ones in that convulsed world who had money and information always at their disposal. And the two commodities-money and information-gave them a special power, more than that of any king, or even the pope himself.

The relationship between Balduino and Saint-Remy was one of mutual respect. The superior of the Temple's chapter in Constantinople shared Balduino's anguish at the increasingly grave situation of the impoverished empire. On more than one occasion the Temple had lent him generous amounts of gold- money he had not been able to repay, but in return for which he had put down as deposit certain relics, which had thus become possessions of the Templars. There were other objects, too, which would never return to the empire until the emperor had repaid the debt he had contracted, and that was a most unlikely possibility.

But de Molesmes put those thoughts aside and set about preparing for Balduino's visit to the bishop. He should go in the company of soldiers in armor and bearing weapons, enough to surround the bishop's palace and the Church of St. Mary of Blachernae, where the Mandylion was kept.

No one was to know what the emperor was proposing to do, so as not to alert the people, or the bishop himself, who took Balduino to be a good Christian who would never raise his hand against the Church.

The chancellor sent for the Comte de Dijon, to go over with him the details of the shroud's delivery. The king of France had given the count precise instructions as to what to do when his nephew turned over the shroud and how to arrange payment for it.

Robert de Dijon was around thirty, a powerfully built man of medium height, aquiline nose and blue eyes. The count's beauty had awakened the interest of the ladies at Balduino's court in the short time since his arrival. It was not easy for the servant sent by de Molesmes to find him; he had to bribe several servants in the palace before he discovered him, at last, in the apartment of Dona Maria, the emperor's recendy widowed cousin.

When the Comte de Dijon presented himself in the chancellor's study he still bore traces of the musky perfume the noble lady left always in her wake.

"Tell me, de Molesmes, what the reason is for such great hurry?"

"My lord, I must know the instructions you have been given by good King Louis, so that I may please him."

"You know that the king wishes the emperor to hand over the Mandylion."

"Forgive my coming straight to the point: What price is Louis willing to pay for the shroud?"

"Will the emperor accede to his uncle's request, then?"

"My lord, allow me to ask the questions."

"Before answering them I must know whether Balduino has made a decision."

In two long strides, de Molesmes planted himself before the count and glared into his eyes, measuring the sort of man he had before him. The Frenchman did not flinch; indeed, he hardly moved a muscle. Unwavering, he held the counselor's gaze.

"The emperor is meditating upon his uncle's offer. But he must know how much the king of France is prepared to pay him for the Mandylion, where it will be taken, and who is to warrant its safety. Without knowing these and other details, the emperor can hardly be expected to make such a weighty decision."

"My orders are to await the emperor's answer, and if Balduino agrees to deliver the Mandylion to Louis, to take it myself to France and deliver it into the hands of the king's mother, Dona Blanca, who will look after it until the king returns from the Crusade. If the emperor would like to sell the Mandylion, then Louis would give his nephew two sacks of gold, each the weight of a man, and return the lands of Namur to him. He would also make a gift to him of certain lands in France, which he might lease at a good yearly rent. If, on the contrary, the emperor wishes only to lend the shroud for a certain time, the king would likewise give him two sacks of gold, which Balduino would be pledged to repay in order to recover the Mandylion. If by a certain date, to be mutually agreed upon, the emperor did not repay his pledge, then the relic would-be-come the property of the king of France."

"Louis always wins," de Molesmes said irritably.

"It is a fair offer."

"No, it is not. You know as well as I that the Mandylion is the only authentic relic possessed by Christianity."

"The king's offer is a generous one. Two sacks of gold would allow Balduino to repay his many debts."

"It is not enough."

"We are both aware, sir, that two sacks of gold, each the weight of a man, would solve many of the empire's problems. The offer is more than generous if the emperor sells the Mandylion outright, since he would also enjoy the rents of his lands in France for the rest of his days, while if he but pawns it… well, I am not certain he would be able to repay such an amount."

"Yes, you are certain. You know very well he would never be able to recover the shroud. So, tell me, have you journeyed here with two sacks of gold?"

"I have brought a document signed by Louis pledging the payment. I also have a quantity of gold as a guarantee of the king's good faith."

'And what assurance can you give us that the relic will arrive safely in France?"

'As you know, I journey with a numerous escort, and I am willing to accept in addition as many men as you think necessary to ensure the shroud's safety. My life and my honor are pledged to see the Mandylion safe in France. If the emperor agrees, we will send a message to the king."

"How much gold do you have with you now?"

"Twenty pounds in weight."

"I will send for you when the emperor has made his decision."

"I will be waiting. I confess that I will not mind lingering in Constantinople a few days more."

Francois de Charney was practicing his archery with the other Templars, as Andre de Saint-Remy watched from the window of the great hall. Young de Charney, like Andre's brother Robert, looked much like a Muslim. Both had insisted on the necessity of taking on that appearance in order to cross enemy territory without undue contretemps. They trusted in their Saracen squires, whom they treated as close comrades.

After so many years in the East, the Temple had changed. Its knights had come to appreciate the values of its enemies-the Templars had not been content to engage them only in battle but also in their daily lives, and out of that had grown the mutual respect between the Templar knights and the Saracens.

Guillaume de Sonnac had been a prudent Grand Master, and he had seen something remarkable in Robert and Francois, qualities that would allow them to be the perfect spies-for thus they were.

The two knights spoke Arabic fluently, and when they were with their squires they comported themselves as true Arabs. With their skin browned by the sun and their vestments of Saracen nobility, it was difficult to see them as the Christian gentlemen they were.

They had told Andre of their countless adventures in the Holy Land, of the enchantments of the desert where they had learned to live, of writings by the Greek philosophers of antiquity recovered by the wisdom of the Saracens, of the arts of medicine learned from them.

The young men could not conceal their admiration for the enemies they had battled, which would have worried Andre de Saint-Remy had he not seen with his own eyes the young men's devotion and commitment to the honor of the Temple.