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 sacrifi ced.” 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.
the fall of the templars
57
“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 fi re.”
“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.”
“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
“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 sacrifi ced.” 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.
the fall of the templars
57
“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 fi re.”
“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.”
“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
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