The Tale of the English Templar

“And how many Free Templars are there altogether?”

“We are now over one hundred knights, roughly three hundred and sixty sergeants and nearly one thousand lay brothers, including the many volunteers from the Empire, England and Iberia.”

“At Chanac?” Felice asked in disbelief, unable to picture it.

Sir Martin laughed. “Of course not. We have a network of safe manors now. Some belong to relatives of Templar Knights, others are Hospitaller manors, but most belong only to sympathisers. They are spread throughout the Languedoc, and I’m afraid, my lady, it sounds more impressive than it is. We are all fugitives, outlaws and excommunicates. If we are discovered, the best we can hope for is death. The lay brothers are dispersed throughout many humble manors and in towns large and small; they all work for their protectors, many of whom are mere tradesmen. We knights and sergeants are divided into small units. On the one hand, we try to maintain contact with the Templars outside France, and on the other, with our imprisoned brothers. We do our best to bring those in custody medical assistance, extra food — especially fresh things — and convey messages from families and friends.

“Lord Geoffrey has also built up contacts in the papal and royal courts which keep him informed of developments regarding the Order as a whole. He has long worked towards seeing that the Order is brought to trial, and he is now determined to see that the defence of the Temple proceeds before the papal Commission. Lord Geoffrey is determined to defend the Temple, as he puts it, ‘before God and Posterity’ — even if, as Sir Percy thinks, our defence is futile.”

Yes, that sounded like her grandfather, and unconsciously she smiled to herself. The smile did not escape Sir Martin’s notice. She would be pretty, he thought with surprise, if she were cleaned up, her skin treated, and she smiled.

Felice’s thoughts raced ahead. “But if there are one hundred knights now free, then surely many are more senior to both my grandfather and Sir Percy — as you must be yourself. Don’t they resent being subordinate to a new knight on one hand and a young man on the other?”

“I cannot know the inner thoughts of all my brothers, Madame. It may be that some knights resent them, but I doubt it is very many. Without having known him, it seems to me that your grandfather has been a Templar at heart all his life. In any case, his efforts over the last two years are not open to question. Without him, there might be isolated free Templars, but no Free Templars. We are all relieved to have at last a wise yet dynamic man who is willing to take command and give us direction and hope.”

“And Sir Percy?”

Sir Martin shrugged. “I could describe him as your grandfather’s right hand. Your grandfather will turn eighty soon. His eyes are weakening and more than a couple hours in the saddle exhausts him. He could not have done what he has done without Sir Percy.”

“He must have many men willing and eager to serve him now,” Felice pointed out.

“Yes, of course, but only Sir Percy has his moral authority. Look around you.” He indicated the men collected around the fire. Most were sprawled in various poses of ease and were casually exchanging comments in a good-natured tone, content to be warm while the storm raged.

“We can be divided into two categories,” Sir Martin explained whilst Felice looked carefully at each man. “Sir Gilbert and Sergeants Rokely, Heydon, Tyler and Silva are all Templars from abroad. They have voluntarily joined our struggle against King Philip. They have never themselves been imprisoned or subjected to torture. The rest — myself, Sir Hugh, Sergeants Petard, Belot, Tavernier and Roussel, and Brother Gaston — owe our freedom and possibly our lives to Sir Percy. Half of us, you see, are intimidated by the knowledge that they cannot be sure whether they would have withstood the treatment of the Inquisition, and the other half are awed by Sir Percy’s courage and competence despite his torments.

“You have to understand one thing: it is easier for men like Sir Gilbert to risk life and freedom in this struggle because men who have never faced the Inquisition are too naive to imagine what it means to be chained in a dungeon for months on end. They—” Sir Martin lowered his voice so that Felice had to lean towards him slightly and strain her ears. “—cannot imagine the pain that we others have endured. We, who have been through the dungeons, know that without Sir Percy’s example we would never have risked facing it all again.

“Because of him, it is easier for us. We are members of an organised unit with officers and safe houses and a network of communication. There is safety in numbers; the herd instinct and our training as Templars takes over. We have been drilled to obey orders and help one another. But when Sir Percy made the decision to help the prisoners at Chauvigny, he had none of that — no orders, no comrades, no networks of well-wishers. When he freed me from the cell at Rodez, he and Lord Geoffrey were still practically alone, and when we freed Father André from the Carthusians, we very nearly came to grief in a single clash with a score of royal troops. We were pathetic — or foolhardy — depending on how you look at it.” Sir Martin shook his head at the memory.

“And now?”