The Last Templar (36 page)

He felt a bleak depression stealing over him as he considered what he must do. And how would the man react? Would he reach for his sword? He was a knight, after all. He may well decide to deny his guilt in trial of combat with his accuser, and Simon was uncomfortably aware that it would require a great deal of heavenly assistance to overcome such a strong opponent. He walked round the house to the log where he had sat only a few mornings before while he nursed his hangover. It seemed so long ago now, so long since he had enjoyed the evening with this man, since his wife had laughed at every sally made by the grave but witty, educated knight.

Slowly he eased himself onto it and stared out over the grounds in front.

Baldwin arrived almost an hour later, dirty and soaked from his ride. As he came up the track, he waved and roared a greeting to Simon, who still sat on his log. He returned the wave, smiling briefly at his friend’s obvious pleasure in seeing him, then ambled round to the stable yard as the knight came up to it.

“Simon, so you’re back then. You were quick. I wasn’t expecting you yet,” Baldwin shouted as he dropped from the saddle and reached forward to shake Simon’s hand. “Have you brought your wife? Is Margaret here?”

“No, Baldwin. I thought it best not to bring her. Not today,” said Simon, his face haggard. He tried to smile as he shook hands with the knight, but although the mouth obeyed his brain’s command, his eyes could not lose their look of hunted fear.

“You look very serious. Is there something the matter?” said Baldwin, pausing as he led his horse to the stable. Simon shook his head dumbly, and, shrugging, the knight continued. Simon felt his eyes drawn down, and he stared in misery. There could be no doubt. There on the ground in front of him was the proof. He put his thumbs into his belt and followed the knight, who was taking the saddle off his horse and patting its neck.

“What is it, Simon? Can I help?” said Baldwin, the sympathy showing in his grave eyes and making Simon feel even worse.

“The abbot,” he said flatly, making the knight pause in his patting.

“Yes?”

“Why did you murder him?”

Baldwin’s eyes glittered, a spark of anger lighting his features, but as quickly as it had flared it died, and he sighed. “How did you And out?” He sounded almost uninterested as if he did not really care but thought the question should be asked for form’s sake.

“I didn’t, really,” sighed Simon. “I felt it couldn’t be the trail bastons, but I didn’t really know it was you until I saw your horse’s hoofprints.”

The knight looked down in surprise.

“You’re missing a nail in one of the hind hoofs. We saw that at the murder scene. It was the only thing we had to follow.”

Baldwin patted the horse’s neck again absentmindedly. “Well, we’d better go indoors and talk about it,” he said, and slowly led the way into the house.

As he entered the hall and saw Edgar sitting on the floor in front of a grim-faced Hugh, who was sitting with his sword drawn and pointing at him, Baldwin turned in anger. “Why do you hold my man like this?” he grated. “Is it not enough that I—”

“Sir Baldwin! Sir Baldwin, I have already admitted it,” said Edgar, quickly interrupting. When Simon looked at him, he thought that the man seemed almost to be pleading. He sat there with an expression of desperate yearning, as if he was anxious that he should be permitted to confess, as if the knight should not take away this chance of… what? Confession? Absolution? Simon turned back to the knight as he slowly made his way to his servant.

“You have admitted it? You?” Baldwin said softly. He walked to Edgar’s side, then crouched by him, his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Will that help us? We have nothing to fear, Edgar. If die I must, I will die happy at last. But I will not let you die for something I was responsible for.” He looked at Simon. “I can guarantee this man’s obedience. You have no need to leave him tied up like an animal.”

Simon heard Hugh’s cry of“ Master!”, but he kept his eyes on Baldwin. He gazed back, not with anger, but a kind of indifferent sadness and pain, as if this was the last thing he wanted, to have brought his servant to this pass and put the bailiff, his friend, to this trouble. Simon could not discern any remorse, any guilt. It was as though he was fully aware of what he had done, but that he felt it was nothing - of no importance. With a curt gesture, Simon acquiesced, and Baldwin took his own dagger and released his man.

“Go and fetch wine. There is no need for us to suffer thirst while I confess,” he said, patting Edgar on his shoulder. He walked unhurriedly to the bench. Seated, he motioned to Simon, who slowly walked over and sat opposite, next to Hugh.

The knight sighed, the firelight throwing occasional flashes of orange and red on his face and making his eyes glitter. He studied Simon carefully, a small smile on his face even as his brow wrinkled, as if he was wondering how to tell his tale.

“I killed him because he was a heretic and evil, and because he caused hundreds of my loyal companions to die.”

Chapter Twenty-four

“I suppose I have to begin with why I left the country and what happened to me. Otherwise it will all make no sense to you; it won’t explain why I had to kill de Penne.

it all seems so long ago now, but I suppose that’s how things happen,“ he said, staring at Hugh and Simon with a weary calmness now that he had begun, I told you that I left my home when I was young, did I not? Well, you are too young, I suppose, to remember, but then, when I left, the whole of the world was in a ferment. The kingdom of Jerusalem was falling to the Saracens, Tripoli had fallen a year or so before, and King Hugh sent to the kings of Europe for aid, for men and money to defend the cities that remained, few as they were.

“I decided to help if I could. After all, I had little to keep me here. Under the law of primogeniture I was an embarrassment to my brother, who was the elder of us. He inherited the lands from our father when he died, so there was little to keep me here. I decided to do as so many had before and go to Outremer to see if I could make my own inheritance. The news was just coming in of a new Saracen army that was being sent to take Acre, the last great city in the Holy Land, and it seemed a good time to go there. I joined a small ship and went to join the defenders. I managed to gain a place on a Venetian ship and arrived in early April, in twelve hundred and ninety-one.

“The whole city was under siege from the Saracens. They had huge weapons - nearly a hundred catapults! It was obvious that they meant to take the city, and they had the men to be able to do it.” He stared into the fire for a moment, then carried on. “There must have been a hundred thousand men against the city. And what did we have? Barely fifteen thousand knights and men-at-arms, all told.

“They began their assault in early April. I was serving under Otto de Grandison, the Swiss, who was there with a small number of Englishmen when it began. At first they merely battered at the walls - my God! It was awful to see those great stones coming at us - and then they started throwing in clay pots, filled with Greek fire. As soon as the pot broke, when it hit the ground or a building, it burst into flames and it was almost impossible to put out the fire.”

Edgar came back in, carrying a jug of wine and some tankards, and he set the jug by the fire and poured them all wine, listening to his master as he worked.

“Thank you, Edgar. Well, for the first few days I thought we could hold out. We still had the port, and the Saracens had no ships, so we could still get supplies in and evacuate the wounded. I thought we should be safe. After all, I was young. I had never seen city walls like those of Acre. They were huge, a pair of double walls with ten towers in the outer one, spreading to the north and east of the city. South and west was the sea, so all the Saracens could do was try to destroy the walls to be able to get into the city.” He sighed. “But I did not know how much damage could be done by them.

“We suffered from the catapult bombardment, from the rocks and the fires, from the arrows and the constant attacks of the enemy. It seemed as though there was nothing we could do to keep them away, but then, after I had been there for about a month, King Hugh of Cyprus arrived with his soldiers, and it seemed that we might win -but it was too late even then.

“Less than two weeks after he arrived, the towers started to crack and fall. We did not know it then, but the Saracens had mined deep under the walls, baulking the tunnels with timbers soaked in oil. Then they fired the tunnel. As the wood burned, the tunnels collapsed, pulling down the walls and towers above. I have seen it since, but at the time it was a shock, it was as if the ground under us was rejecting our claim to defend the Holy Land as the towers fell.

“And then they attacked. They came against all parts of the wall; there was nothing we could do, we did not have enough men to defend the whole area, and they managed to capture the middle tower - it was called the Accursed Tower, and it was well-named.” He fell silent, but soon continued.

“The hordes worked their way along the top of the walls, and when they managed to get to the middle they opened the gates and the rest flooded in. We had to fight in the streets, hacking and stabbing as best we could in the narrow alleys, struggling to contain them, but it was futile. If we held them off in one street, they would work behind us in another and come at us from behind. We had to give in.

“De Grandison took some Venetian galleys and the English climbed aboard. Everyone who could was leaving now, but I was delayed. I saw Edgar was hit by an arrow as I ran for the docks, and I stopped to help him. He would have died for certain otherwise, so I tried to carry him to the ships, but we were too late. With Edgar suffering so much in his pain, we couldn’t hurry, and by the time we got to the port the ships had already gone. In the end we just managed to get to the Temple, to the fortress of the Templars, before they bolted the door.

“It was madness in there. The place was filled with people. Everyone who could not get to the ships had flocked there, and it was full of women and children, the wives and children of the men who had died on the walls and in the streets. There were not enough men to protect it from the hordes, though, there were only some two hundred Knights Templar. The Muslims ran through the streets, killing all the men, catching all the women for slaves, killing any who were too old or top young. They stole everything, destroying all the churches and temples as they went. God! It was awful to hear the cries of the people as we sat inside, but what else could we do?

“The Templar in charge was Peter de Severy, God bless him! I owe him my life. He had some boats and ships at his disposal, and he sent some of the wounded away. I was one, Edgar another. I had managed to break my leg when I stumbled over stones while I helped in the defence, and I could help no longer. Edgar’s wound was bad too, so we left together. It was only a few days later that the Temple fell, and all inside were killed by the Saracens.

“Edgar and I were taken to Cyprus, where we were looked after by the Templars and nursed back to health. We were lucky - many others died. I was still young, but I had no cause to fight for and no land to keep me, and Edgar was without a knight to serve. It seemed to us that we were part of a divine plan, we had been given a new reason for existence. We were able to speak to the knights and observe their ways, and we were so grateful, and so impressed with them, that we decided to join them. I had nothing to come back to England for -I had no home, not since my brother had taken the estates - so I think it was from a feeling of loyalty and a sense of God’s will that I joined the knights. They had helped me and shown me kindness, and I wanted to repay the debt.”

“You were a Templar!” said Simon, sitting bolt upright and staring at him with horror.

“I was honoured to become a Templar,” said Baldwin calmly. “Do not believe the stories. Do not think we were blasphemers or heretics. How could we be? My companions had fought and died for the Holy Land, to win back Jerusalem and Bethlehem. Would they have done that if they were heretics? Would they have accepted death rather than renounce Christ? Have you heard of Safed? No? When the castle at Safed was taken by the Saracens, two hundred Templars were captured and offered life if they would renounce their faith. Two hundred, and
all
chose to die. They were killed, one at a time, in front of the others. Not one agreed to denounce his faith, not one! Can you really believe that such men were heretics?

“No. I was proud to become a Templar, to be accepted as a warrior for God. My only regret is’ - his voice dropped a little as he stared at Simon - ”that I was still alive when the Order was destroyed.“

Simon and Hugh stared at him as he spoke. Simon could remember clearly the stories about the Templars, the dreadful knights who had betrayed the whole of Christendom with their revolting crimes, and yet… It seemed that this man, for whom he had respect, revered them. How could that be, unless he was badly misled by them? Could he be guilty of the same crimes?

Baldwin continued, a little defensively now as he read the expression on Simon’s face. “We were warrior monks, you understand? We took the same vows as monks - of poverty, chastity and obedience. We were the oldest order of knights, far older than the Teutonic Knights, and older even than the Hospitallers. We were created after the First Crusade to defend the pilgrims travelling to the Holy Land, and we were in every battle from then until the fall of Acre - that’s two hundred years.”

“So why were you all—” Hugh started, sarcastically.

“Shut up, Hugh, let him finish,” Simon snapped.

“Well, maybe you will understand when I have finished,” the knight continued. “I joined the Order. I was sent back to France to learn how to fight and to be shown how best to serve the Order, and I lived there, in Paris, for several years.” He looked over at his servant as he spoke, and there was a softening in his eyes. “Edgar was with me. I had saved his life, and when I joined the Order he asked to join me there. He had no knightly training, no training in how to use a sword, but he could work with me, so he became my esquire.