Knights Templar - Temple And The Crown Part 24

"Then, it is the High Priest's Breastplate!" Baudoin breathed. "I was beginning to wonder whether you would ever allow the rest of us to catch a glimpse of the prize."

Nogaret whisked the packet out of sight again.

"This is not some vulgar piece of strumpet's ?nery," he warned sharply. "This is a sacred standard, a weapon, a key to powers that brought the very cosmos to birth! Its natural af?nities are entirely inimical to our own. Anyone attempting to unlock its secrets must armor himself in appropriate ritual, or else court annihilation."

"Hence these gaudy affectations of a primitive Judaic priesthood," Baudoin said scornfully, waving a hand around the room.

"You may live to be grateful for the thoroughness of my preparations," Nogaret said tightly. "Tonight we are going to awaken the powers of the Breastplate-and bend them to our will."

Glances of varying degrees of alarm ?ew among his three subordinates.

"Ah, Magister." Valentin ventured, "would it not be wiser if all the members of the Decuria were present for a ceremony of such importance?"

"By no means," Nogaret replied. "There are some upon whose con?dence I cannot rely as I can on yours."

"Eventually, they will learn what we have done," Baudoin pointed out. "They'll demand to know why they were excluded."

"And I shall tell them it was for their own protection," Nogaret said icily. "Or do some of you wish to be excluded?"

Smiling sardonically, Peret said, "I believe I speak for all of us when I declare that ten thousand devils could not drive me from this room."

"I trust," Nogaret said coldly, "that you will not have occasion to try the accuracy of that statement." He gestured toward three stacks of folded garments atop a trunk to one side of the room. "Pray, vest yourselves appropriately, from the skin out."

Somewhat sobered, the three newcomers traded their travel attire for ceremonial vestments similar to Nogaret's. Nogaret himself undertook to cleanse and ward the room, setting candles and incense alight to the accompaniment of a complex sequence of cabalistic signs and prayers and a keening Hebraic chant.

By the time he had ?nished, the other three were ready to join him at the altar.

"Now," Nogaret said, carefully positioning the linen-wrapped packet at the base of the lectern. His habitually pallid face was ?ushed with excitement as he folded back several layers of linen and then silk, beneath which lay the long-awaited prize.

A collective sigh breathed from the lips of his three colleagues at the sight of it, the twelve large jewels set in three rows of four and st.i.tched to a backing of stiffened linen, each stone engraved with a sigil of one of the Twelve Tribes of Israel. The stones were held in bezels of polished gold- topaz and sapphire, emerald, diamond, and other gems- glinting in the slanting light, each stone remarkable in its size and purity. Nogaret's pale, protuberant eyes glowed with excitement, re?ecting the jewels as a tiny pair of multicolored constellations.

"Behold the Breastplate of Aaron, perhaps the greatest treasure of Solomon's Temple," he murmured.

"Each jewel is a storehouse of mystical energy. Their arrangement forms a matrix for containing the harmonization of those energies. But the source of the power itself resides here, in these two stones secreted at the back of the Breastplate."

He turned it over to show them two slightly bulging pockets st.i.tched to the back of the linen, carefully opening the mouths of both so that they could see what lay within: two more stones of similar size to those st.i.tched to the front of the Breastplate, one black and one white.

"Behold, the legendary Urim and Thummin-the Lights and Perfections," he said, as they bent to peer into the pockets. "They have divinatory properties on their own, but harnessed to the jewels of the Breastplate, they can generate such force as has not been seen on the earth since the destruction of Gomorrah."

"Strange, that they should appear as dark and l.u.s.terless as river stones," Baudoin remarked, starting to prod at one of the pockets with a fore?nger.

"Do not touch them!" Nogaret warned, slapping Baudoin's hand away. "They can kill if mishandled!" He let out a deep breath. "If we succeed in attuning them to the Breastplate, the power at our command will enable us to reshape the material world."

With due respect, if not reverence, Peret and Valentin helped Nogaret ?x the Breastplate to the priestly ephod, fastening the golden chains to the shoulders and waist. Thereafter, now meticulously obedient to their superior's directions, the three acolytes dispersed to the eastern, western, and southern quarters of the chamber and a.s.sumed att.i.tudes of abject supplication, even Baudoin at last sobered by the seriousness of the work about to commence.

Himself standing before the altar, Nogaret opened the book to a page covered in Hebrew writing and raised his hands to begin chanting. The words were familiar at ?rst, but quickly shifted into language that was beyond the knowledge of the others to interpret. After the ?rst few phrases, they recognized only an occasional mystical term as he lightly touched each of the gems in turn, some with the right hand and some with the left. When all had been thus invoked, he placed a ?nger to his brow and another over his heart, eyes closed in rapt concentration.

A deep hush settled in their midst, centered on Nogaret. His lips twitched and trembled, mouthing soundless syllables of supplication. His acolytes watched anxiously for some glimmer of life from the gems adorning the Breastplate, or from the Lights and Perfections. But the only lights visible were re?ected glimmers from the neighboring candles.

Peret stirred restlessly. After a time, Nogaret abandoned his silent pleading in favor of more imperious cadences of bidding and then command. Beads of sweat broke out on his taut brow, beginning to run into his eyes, but the Breastplate remained unresponsive.

After what seemed an eternity, Nogaret suddenly wrenched himself from his concentration with an explosive curse and half turned away, causing his three companions to start back.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Baudoin demanded.

Nogaret indicated the Breastplate with a savage stab of his hand. "See for yourselves!"

Peret raised an eyebrow. "There's nothing to see."

"Precisely! Because nothing has happened!"

Nogaret struck the altar a frustrated blow with his ?st. "I performed the ritual in perfect accordance with the ancient injunctions! Every detail is correct-and yet the Breastplate remains inert."

Spurning a.s.sistance, he stripped off the Breastplate and the ephod and ?ung them down on the altar.

Flipping the Breastplate over, he fumbled with the fastenings securing the pockets at the back of it.

Before any of his subordinates could restrain him, he reached inside and pulled out the Urim and Thummin.

Valentin recoiled with a gasp, then realized Nogaret was perfectly unharmed. The two stones, one dark and one light, were as inert as the river pebbles Baudoin had earlier compared them to. Nogaret glared venomously at the stones, one clasped in each hand.

"The fault lies here!" he growled.

"Could the Templars have performed some kind of subst.i.tution?" Peret asked.

"No!" Nogaret snapped. "These stones bear the sacred mark of the shamir. And yet they are dead! As dead as the man who-"

His voice broke off. All at once he s.n.a.t.c.hed up the book and began rif?ing through its crackling pages, urgently searching for a dimly remembered pa.s.sage. The others kept silent, baf?ed by his actions, but afraid to ask.

When he found the part he was looking for, Nogaret quickly scanned the page, silently mouthing the words as he read. Then he slammed the book vehemently shut, as though to imprison the unpalatable truth he had found there.

"That accursed Templar!" he spat. "He knew this would happen!"

"Knew what would happen?" Valentin asked.

Nogaret rounded on him furiously, as though he were personally responsible for this disaster.

"The authority to wield the Urim and Thummin can only be pa.s.sed on by the priest, by the man who is guardian of the Breastplate. If he dies while in charge of it, his death robs the stones of their potency.

Only one who has already been granted the same priestly authority can reempower them."

"So the Breastplate is useless," Baudoin said ?atly.

"Do you accuse me of failure, fool?" Nogaret demanded, thrusting his face at his subordinate.

Baudoin fell back a pace. Seeing him silent, Nogaret gave a snort.

"I should have expected no better from one whose comprehension of the sorcerous arts is so limited by his meagerness of intellect," he said caustically. He took a deep breath to steady his pa.s.sion before continuing.

"Without the Urim and Thummin," he stated tightly, "we must empower the jewels individually, one by one, by alchemical means."

"Is that possible?" Valentin asked cautiously.

"It must be possible!" Nogaret insisted through gritted teeth. "Return to your castles, search your libraries, delve deep into every volume of occult lore in your possession. Then report everything you ?nd to me."

"But who knows how long all this will take?" Peret objected.

"It will take as long as it must," Nogaret replied. "But time is on our side. Most of the Templars are already in custody, so they represent no threat. I will see to it that King Philip does not relent in his pursuit of them. Let them rot in prison or die at the hands of their torturers!"

His eyes were gleaming again, his anger trans.m.u.ted into a ?ery determination. "While they die, we shall grow in power and in?uence. This treasure and everything else they possess shall come to us and serve our ends. And then nothing shall stand in our way!"

Chapter Twenty-five.

January-May, 1308 HAVING MANAGED TO STEER CLEAR OF THE ROYAL AGENTS rounding up Templars all over France, Arnault de Saint Clair made his slow way toward Scotland. It took him several weeks to reach the French border, and then only by doubling back northward to seek refuge in the Low Countries.

By mid-November he had secured pa.s.sage on a ship headed north-a Flemish merchantman bound for Aberdeen by way of Norway-not his ?rst choice of route, but he dared not wait for another boat.

The sea voyage gave him time at last to consider his longer-term plans. It also gave him time to ponder the message of the mysterious Iskander-a name that had been mentioned, he ?nally remembered, in Jauffre's report of the Ethiopian emba.s.sage seeking a Western alliance. He had no idea whether the two Iskanders were one and the same, but the message of the one at Chartres had seemed to hint at an additional dimension in the task set for those guarding the Inner Temple-though Arnault had no idea how this new information ?t into the more immediate plans to erect the Fifth Temple in Scotland. But at a very gut level, he had no doubt that it did ?t.

Which made his ?rst priority to consult with Luc and whatever other members of le Cercle he could ?nd, to see what they might make of the message. And then he must ?nd Bruce and a.s.sess the more practical aspects of the Scottish struggle for independence-for only in a stable and independent land would it be possible to erect the Fifth Temple at all.

He had hoped, since his escape took him by way of Norway, that he might obtain more recent news of Bruce from the Norwegian court, where Bruce's sister Isabella was queen. But the ship's brief stop in Oslo did not allow for more than token inquiries, and no contact with Isabella Bruce herself, so Arnault sailed for Aberdeen little wiser than when he had arrived. He did learn that Bruce-or so it was rumored-was wintering somewhere in Argyll. As for the Templars, he gathered that the Norwegians knew only vaguely that there had been some kind of trouble in Paris.

He arrived in Aberdeen just before Christmas, procuring a mount and heading south by way of Montrose, Arbroath, and Dundee, avoiding the worst of the winter snow by staying close to the coast.

After crossing the Firth of Forth at Queensferry, he headed for Balantrodoch by the most direct route, riding into the preceptory's icy yard on the evening of Epiphany. His reception was cordial, for his arrival meant fresh news from France, and he soon was seated between Luc and Balantrodoch's master, Fr?re Walter de Clifton, being barraged with questions while he tried to consume a hot meal. After he had related some but not all of his adventures in ?eeing France, and heard what little news was to be had locally, he retired with Luc for a more private debriefing. Luc's more detailed accounts of the past three months did not provide rea.s.suring listening.

"In general, I can't add a great deal to what you heard at supper," Luc told him, as they settled before a modest ?re in Luc's of?ce with cups and a pot of hot mulled wine. "I can tell you, however, that the most recent news from France is not good. Apparently the sweep in October was extremely ef?cient, despite the fact that the of?cers of the Paris Temple knew or at least suspected that this was coming."

"They knew," Arnault agreed. "Gerard de Villiers took measures on his own initiative-which, as Preceptor of Paris, he was in a position to do. So did a few others. I don't know how much the Grand Master knew."

"De Molay can be pig-stubborn, when he wants to be," Luc said, shaking his head.

"I'll not argue that," Arnault replied. "I attended him the day before the arrests. All he was concerned about was the prestige of being in the royal funeral. He simply refused to accept what was coming."

"Well, it came," Luc replied. "We hear that thousands were taken into custody, all over France: knights, serjeants, lay brothers, clerics. It's being said that scores of our brothers have confessed to all manner of crimes, and we hear of tortures and threats of tortures. It's even said that de Molay signed some sort of confession."

Arnault dipped out another cup of mulled wine, more to warm his hands than out of any desire for the taste. "I'd heard much the same thing-I forget where. Have any of the other members of le Cercle checked in?"

"Christoph arrived in mid-November," Luc said, dropping his gaze. "He-thinks Jauffre may have been captured. But he isn't sure."

"Jauffre? Dear G.o.d."

"I'm afraid so. We've had no further news on that. Father Bertrand arrived at the beginning of December.

After due consideration, we agreed that he and Christoph should go on to Dunkeld, to put them in close proximity to the Stone. I suppose you knew that Abbot Henry was taken by the English last summer-sent to imprisonment down in Wiltshire-but Bishop Crambeth is taking a direct hand in the protection of the Stone. He's given sanctuary to Christoph and Bertrand. They're posing as monks there at Dunkeld."

Arnault nodded distractedly, in total agreement with the strategy, though the news of Jauffre had taken him aback.

"And the relics they carried?" he asked.

"Safe, so far as we know," Luc replied. "There was a refuge already arranged for what Christoph carried, as you know; it lies there now. Father Bertrand brought Solomon's Sceptre. For the present, I've locked it in one of the vaults below. Were you to bring something?"

"Yes, I have Solomon's Seal," Arnault replied. "You'll want to lock it up as well." He sighed. "And you've heard nothing from any of the others?"

Luc shook his head. "No word yet. But it's early days. You've only just arrived, and you were meant to be the ?rst. From what you've told me of conditions in France, they could come straggling in for months."

"If they weren't captured," Arnault muttered. "What about here? And in England? Will it spread outside France?"

"Hmmm, I take it that you've not yet heard about the Holy Father's latest p.r.o.nouncement," Luc said sourly. "It seems there's a papal bull called Pastoralis Praeeminentiae. It calls for the arrest of Templars everywhere, not just in France, and orders an investigation of the allegations. Which means, it appears, that he's throwing us to the wolves-or to the king and Nogaret, which is much the same thing."

Arnault was slowly shaking his head, hardly able to believe what he was hearing.

"When did this happen?"

"Late in November, we're told, though we've yet to have sight of the actual decree. But word reached the London Temple about a fortnight ago, just ahead of the of?cial noti?cation to the English chancery.

William de la More sent word immediately, to as many of our establishments as he could, but nothing has happened yet in England-and probably won't, at least for a month or two. The English king is traveling to France this month, to be married to a daughter of King Philip-but that probably means that pressure will be brought to bear, even if he were disposed to ignore the Holy Father's edict."

"That is England," Arnault pointed out stif?y. "This is Scotland."

"The distinction is a valid one," Luc agreed, "and not just because Bruce is kindly disposed toward the Order. With him still under excommunication, and Scotland subsequently under interdict, I doubt any Scottish bishop can be induced to enforce the order-at least not for a while. But it may be only a matter of time."

Shaking his head in disbelief, Arnault propped his elbows on the table, bowing his temples against the heels of his hands. "Dear G.o.d, this can't be happening."

Luc said nothing, only clasping a hand to Arnault's shoulder, helpless to give any other rea.s.surance. After a few minutes, Arnault slowly raised his head.

"We must gather what remains of le Cercle," he said. "Send word to Christoph, and tell him that. In fact, go there yourself, when you've done what you can here."

"What will you do?" Luc asked, nodding his agreement.

"I must ?nd Torquil," Arnault replied. "And Bruce. More than ever, I sense that much now hinges on him."

Brie?y he told Luc about the mysterious message given him by the stranger called Iskander, at Chartres.

"The Law will destroy you. the Law will set you free." Luc murmured, repeating what Iskander had told Arnault. "You said that was in your dream, at the Paris Temple-but how could he have known of that?"

"I don't know."

"And what Temple was he talking about?" Luc went on. "The actual Temple of Jerusalem, the Order.or the Fifth Temple? Before the Temple, there was the Ark of the Covenant. And before the Ark, the Covenant itself. The Covenant, the Tablets of the Law, the Word of G.o.d."

He looked up at Arnault. "Is he equating the Law with the Word? With the Tablets, maybe?"