Read Online The Heretic: Templar Chronicles Book 1 by Joseph Nassise - Free Book Online Page A

silver.
    Latin again and easily identifiable to Duncan.
    Translated, it meant Defender. It was etched into every sword carried by the Templars, for that one word neatly formed the foundation of the Order’s mission — to defend mankind against the evils in the world.
    Awed by the beauty and craftsmanship that went into creating this particular weapon, Duncan couldn’t resist. He reached down and carefully withdrew the sword from the case. He held it up in the aisle, turning it slightly to and fro so that the dim lighting of the cabin made the script sparkle and shine.
    Doing so, he noted something else.
    On the opposite side of the blade, a second word had been inscribed, in a fashion similar to the first.
    Ulciscor.
    Vengeance.
    Seeing it made Duncan pause, both for its very presence and what it said about the weapon’s owner. According to the Code, a Knight was allowed personal ownership of only a few, specific items. The sword given to each of them during the investiture ceremony was one of them, a symbol of their fidelity to the Order and their unrelenting dedication to its ideals. The weapons were supposed to remain undecorated, chaste, if you will. Enhancing the weapon in any manner after it is awarded is cause for a variety of punishments, for doing so is considered a sin of pride.
    Duncan’s new commanding officer had clearly ignored this aspect of the Rule.
    How many others does he ignore?
    He didn’t have time to ponder the answer.
    “Like it?” a gruff voice asked from the darkness at the rear of the cabin, startling the younger knight and almost causing him to drop the weapon in surprise as he looked up to find his new commander leaning against the door of the lavatory, watching him.
    Embarrassed to be caught, Duncan mumbled an apology beneath his breath and quickly replaced the sword in its case. Cade moved farther into the cabin and took a seat in one of the reclining chairs, gesturing with one gloved hand for Duncan to do the same.
    “Tell me about your gift,” Cade said.
    Duncan started, clearly expecting to be taken to task for his transgression and unprepared for the question. “What?”
    Duncan’s eyes followed Cade’s gloved hands as his new commander reached up and removed his eye patch.
    “Could you heal this?” Cade asked.
    Duncan stared.
    He was unable to look away. The destruction to the right side of Cade’s face was worse than Duncan had expected. It appeared as if someone had taken a blowtorch to the tender flesh around his eye socket, the skin flowing and surging together in a grotesque parody of the natural order of things. The eye itself was still intact, but was nothing more than a milky white orb floating in a sea of damaged flesh.
    “Good Lord,” Duncan breathed.
    His hands drifted up from his lap toward Cade’s ruined face, seemingly of their own accord, but he snatched them down again as soon as he realized they were in motion.
    Duncan glanced away, unable to continue to meet his commander’s gaze. When he again found his voice, he replied, “No. No, I couldn’t heal that.”
    “Why not?” Cade asked, making no move to cover his face or lean back out of the light.
    Duncan shook his head in frustration. “It’s too old. I can only heal things that are fresh. Tissue that hasn’t scarred over.” He stared at his hands, not for the first time cursing their limitations. Without looking up, he said to Cade, “I’m sorry.”
    “Don’t be,” came the reply, and to his amazement Duncan heard humor in Cade’s voice.
    “I’m long since over it. I was more interested in your reaction than anything else.”
    “You were testing me,” Duncan said matter-of-factly.
    “Of course,” Cade replied, nodding. Referring to the other man’s ability, he asked, “Does the Order know?”
    “It’s not general knowledge, but it’s probably in my file somewhere,” Duncan replied.
    “Have you tested its limits?”
    Duncan’s mind swept back over the years spent overseas, the