The Templar's Penance: (Knights Templar 15) (11 page)

It had been a terrible shock to see him on the way here. Blasted man! In all the lands of Christendom, why did he have to come here? Maybe it was because he wanted to atone for some of his past offences. There were certainly enough of them.

She was bemoaning her fate when she realised that a man was approaching her.

‘My dear lady! I felt sure it must be you as soon as I saw you in the crowd. Such elegance and grace could never be duplicated on this earth. Dearest lady, may I kiss your ring?’

She turned with a start, her heart leaping into her mouth, and gaped. ‘My God – Parceval!’

The Fleming bowed with as much grace as he could muster, smiling at the expression of shock on her face. ‘You didn’t expect me here?’

‘I didn’t, no. Not so soon. You made very good time.’

‘Well, a man in a hurry can always find a means of speeding himself on his way,’ Parceval said easily. He tugged his purse around his belt so that it was under his belly, and reached inside. Pulling out some coins and peering at them shortsightedly, he held one aloft for the tavern owner to see and peremptorily demanded wine.

‘Yes,’ he continued, ‘we set off at dawn and it was only later I asked where you were and was told you were staying behind. That was – oh – three days ago? You travelled quickly.’

‘No, I set off before you,’ Doña Stefanía said. ‘I arrived here at noon yesterday.’

‘You must have hurried,’ Parceval said, but inattentively. He was watching the tavern-keeper.

It was fortunate that he didn’t catch sight of Doña Stefanía’s face as he raised the coin again. Had he done so, he would have observed rather less pleasure at their meeting than he might have wished.

For her part, the lady was appalled that her lover had materialised here. She had enough troubles without this, but then another thought struck her and she stared suspiciously at his heavy purse.

She had hurried here, leaving in the dark to avoid meeting this man and his companions as soon as the blackmailer had made his demands. Frey Ramón had left with her, happy to be with his Joana, and delighted to be there to protect them both when Domingo’s men were left behind.

When she met Parceval two weeks ago, he had told Doña Stefanía that he was a penniless pilgrim.

How, then, had he come to be in possession of so much money?

Just as Parceval was sitting down with Doña Stefanía, Baldwin and Simon were rising to leave the same place with Matthew.

‘Take a little of this, old friend,’ Baldwin said gently, holding out his hand.

‘No, Sir Baldwin. You keep it. You may have need of money on your travels. It is many leagues from England, as you will know. Many a weary mile to walk. How long did it take you?’

Baldwin held out the handful of coins for a moment longer, but seeing the proud expression in Matthew’s eyes, he shrugged. ‘We came by boat from Topsham. A merchant brought us in a matter of days. Sadly we were blown from our course, and ended up in Oviedo, so we had a walk of it from there.’

Matthew gave a smile that was all but a wince. ‘It is good to hear that you are successful, Sir Baldwin. I would not like to think that all my comrades were as unfortunate as me.’

‘I fear that many are,’ Baldwin said sadly.

‘Perhaps,’ Matthew said. ‘Some survived, though. In Portugal, some still hold positions of power and authority.’

‘I had heard that,’ Baldwin said. ‘In some of our old forts.’

‘Yes. In those which Dinis the King gave to the new Order of Christ, there are some men who were simply given the opportunity to change their title. All he did, when all is said and done, was take the words “And the Temple” from their name. Now they are “Soldiers of Christ”. A tiny change. Such a little thing, and the Pope will accept them. While men like me, honourable men who did all we could to support the Pope, are shunned and left to beg like lepers!’

Baldwin touched his shoulder as he spat the last words. Matthew’s jealous grief was all too apparent; like so many
Templars, like Baldwin himself, he felt the prick of betrayal. Clement V had been their only ruler on earth, after the Grand Master himself. They had all been proud that they answered to the Vicar of Christ himself and no other man. It was partly that pride which had ruined them, Baldwin knew, because the jealousy it instilled in others helped to ensure their destruction.

‘But perhaps …’

Baldwin smiled encouragingly. ‘Yes?’

‘There could be former Templars in positions of authority in Portugal. If a man could find them and report them to the Pope, he might reward such loyalty …’

Baldwin felt his heart stop within him but when he spoke his voice was soft and kind. ‘I hope no one would ever consider such a wicked act. What would be the point of persecuting innocent men to the end of their lives? You might just as well say that men could hunt me down … or you, old friend.’

Matthew gazed up at him with a dreadful expression of loss on his face. ‘Oh Christ, what am I become!’ he wailed.

‘Please, do not upset yourself …’ Baldwin began, but Matthew cut him off with a dismissive gesture and a weakly smile.

‘Do not worry about me, Sir Baldwin. It has been good to see you again – very good – but I must be going now. If I remain with you, people will wonder what sort of man you are, and there will be little chance of your finding a room for the night. No innkeeper wants folk who mix with my sort. You could catch fleas and all sorts from me!’

He gave a brave, sad grin, and pulled his hood up over his head again, setting off along a narrow alleyway as though intending to avoid all other people.

A pathetic creature, was Simon’s thought, but he kept his silence. One look at his friend showed him that Baldwin was deeply affected by the chance encounter.

‘So many of us,’ Baldwin mumbled. ‘I wonder how many still wander the lands like him?’

‘Were there many? I thought all your comrades were installed in monasteries or got placed in the Hospitallers,’ Simon said
hesitantly. He was unwilling to continue the conversation if it might trouble his companion, but he was intrigued. It was rare that Baldwin would discuss his experiences in the Templars. Even now, neither actually mentioned the name of the Order, not while they were in the open. If Baldwin had been discovered as a ‘renegade’, a Templar who had not been captured and who had never suffered a punishment nor been forced to submit to the Inquisition, he could be arrested here.

Baldwin gave him a troubled look. ‘Some escaped to monasteries, I think, although I do not know how many. There are so few whom I have met and spoken to, like Brother Matthew there. He is older than me. When his wife died, he joined the Templars and, being childless, gave all his possessions to the Order. I remember meeting him when I had only recently joined myself. He was a tall, powerful man then. My heavens! He has changed.’

‘What happened to those who weren’t …’ Simon didn’t know whether to say ‘executed’ or ‘burned’, but he wanted to spare Baldwin’s feelings.

‘Many had already died. There was one old man, I heard tell, who was tortured so badly, they roasted his feet over a brazier until his feet were gone. Can you imagine that, Simon? He had to be carried into the Inquisition with a sack in his hand, and when he was asked what was inside, he showed them: it was the charred bones of his own feet! How could a Christian do that to an old man whose sole offence was loving God, and being prepared to lay down his life for God?’

His voice was pained. Simon knew that Baldwin was tormented with the thought of his friends being forced to suffer.

‘You know, Simon, those men would never have submitted to any agony that the Moors could inflict on them. Any pain, any cruelty, would have been shrugged off. But these torturers were their own kind, they were all Christian –
that
was what made them give up. The Inquisition was composed of men like them, men who had taken the same vows to God and before God. That was what really destroyed them, the fact that it was the very
same men whom they had fought to protect, who then betrayed them. Such brutality! Such dishonour!’

‘You think most were killed?’

‘No. Some, I heard, escaped the arrests and fled to Lettow, to join the Teutonic Order. Some, I believe, went to the Hospitallers for, to be fair to them, many Hospitallers were appalled at what was done to the Templars, just as so many Orders in Castile, Aragon, Navarre and Portugal were. It was so obvious that the accusations were false.’

‘Yes,’ Simon said, although he privately had his doubts. He could never tell this to Baldwin, but he believed that the allegations were quite possible. If the Pope could believe the stories, Simon was prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt, because the Pope had more advisers than he. ‘So two Orders accepted renegades?’

‘More than that. But in places like, oh, like Pombal or Soure, none of the old Order could be allowed to remain, because it might seem that the King was condoning the re-emergence of the Temple. He couldn’t afford to do that, so he evicted all the knights and their sergeants.’ And many, as Baldwin had heard, bitter at their dishonourable fate, had committed the all-but inconceivable crime of renouncing their religion and joining the Moors. Perhaps some had not actually given up their faith, but they had certainly gone to fight for the enemy. Baldwin could not blame them for that, not when their own religion had seen to their persecution.

‘So no Templars remain in their castles?’

Baldwin pulled a face. ‘I have heard that some places still have Templars. Many of the old ways continue in towns like Castro-Marim. Perhaps that means a few of my old friends survived the purges, just as Matthew himself did. I should like to go there to find out. Portugal is not so very far from here …’

His face was wistful. Simon saw his profile as Baldwin stared out southwards as though he could gaze through the walls of the buildings and far-distant hills and see a place he could remember
from his youth. He looked so preoccupied, Simon was reluctant to break into his mood, but they had a pressing need.

‘Baldwin, we still have nowhere to sleep.’

‘You said we could sleep by the river.’

‘You said we shouldn’t.’

Baldwin chuckled drily and then gave himself a shake, as though he could shed his grim thoughts like a dog shaking itself free of water. ‘Very well. Let us see if we can find a loaf of bread, a cheese, and a skin of wine. Then we may take them out of the city for a short way and rest by a quiet river unobserved by any. If it is dangerous, so be it. Today has been too lovely to think that we could be harmed by people.’

Simon smiled and walked with Baldwin to the vendors in the square, but all the while he kept shooting little glances at his old friend. No matter what Baldwin said, his face did not express pleasure in a lovely day. Rather he looked pensive and melancholic.

It took her almost an hour to get rid of the fool. Parceval was persistent, of course – well, she knew that – but really, the great dunderwhelp should have been able to see that she had other things on her mind. But no, he sat there languidly, ordering wine and trying to make her drink her fill, as though he was determined to get her so maudlin drunk she’d submit to another fumbling prodding when it grew dark.

‘I am not thirsty, and I must soon go to the Cathedral to pray,’ she said briskly at last, when all her attempts at subtle rebuffs failed – for she might want his companionship again later.

Her bluntness made him blink, but then he gave a rueful grimace and stood. ‘I see I am not in your favour today, my lady. I am greatly sorrowed for that. My apologies. Perhaps you will permit me to see you again?’

‘I should be delighted,’ she said, unbending a little now that he was actually going to leave her. She gave him a warm smile. ‘I apologise, but I must have a little time to clear my head before praying.’

‘But of course.’

His mildly aloof manner told her in no uncertain terms just how he felt, like a young swain who was rejected on the first attempt at wooing. He would live. In the meantime, Doña Stefanía had other things to occupy her mind.

First among these, of course, was: how was Joana, and how had the rendezvous gone? She should know soon. Second, and a close second at that, was: where had the Fleming found his money? He was suddenly in possession of large amounts of gold, if the weight of the purse was anything to go by, yet when she had first met him out on the road, he had declared his absolute poverty. That was part of his attraction to her at the time. It was no smutty lust which had made her notice him, but the fact that he came from a different land, a completely different class and was therefore highly unlikely ever to meet her again; this meant that she could afford to take the plunge with the reasonable hope that she was safe from discovery. Only she and Joana had known that she had submitted to Parceval’s clumsy attempts at seduction, so far as she knew, until later, when the other man walked in, anyway: Señor Ruy.

That damned knight had appeared at the chamber’s doorway and had stood there stock-still as though shocked; she had seen him. Her view had necessarily been confused, being upside-down at the time, but she had recognised him. Parceval continued bulling like an ox on his cow all the while, hoarse grunts bursting from his throat at every thrust, oblivious to any interruption – to be fair, she herself hadn’t stopped encouraging him at the gallop – and Señor Ruy stood there staring, drinking in the sight and sounds of their lovemaking. In a curious way, his silent presence stimulated her still more. It gave the Doña an especial thrill to think that she was exciting the knight while helping her lover to a climax. She had felt safe in the dark of the room, thinking that the man couldn’t recognise her. All he would know was that a couple had been rutting.