of madness! Therefore I do not trust even myself!’ He was circling
Etienne. ‘I do not trust my own thoughts! That is what it has come to!’
Etienne stared
into the dark disc of that face and a concern rose to his throat.
This man will
put the entire business of the voyage and the task of hiding the gold at risk.
In the end,
however, he was the Grand Master’s choice, and a man such as Jacques de Molay
could readily see into a man’s soul and so Etienne made his voice sound serene
and confident. ‘I would have no argument with you, if you were wretched and
feeble, Marcus, madness is their luxury, but it is not ours, not yours and not
mine.’
There was a long
pause. Gulls made more cries out in the water. Marcus gave a short stiff laugh.
‘Yes, there is no provision in the rule for madness and none for luxury!’
‘Things go to
pieces.’ Etienne was looking at the dark around them. ‘I wish it were
different.’
‘You wish it
were different? Well, so do I, so do I.’ There was a sigh and his voice sounded
lighter. ‘No, perhaps I shall not go mad . . . You see? There . . . how the Bear shines this night in that black sky! Perhaps it is a good
omen?’
There was a
sharp whisper. ‘They are here!’ It was Andrew.
There was the
movement and shadows of a barge loaded with men and slaves. It pulled into
shore and let down a ramp into the soft sand.
A figure came
off the barge and began to walk towards the Templars. Etienne guessed it to be
Roger de Flor. When he heard a voice giving instructions to the slave master he
recognised it.
‘Grand
Commander,’ his voice sounded fulsome and active.
‘It is I.’
‘I will need
your men to help the slaves with the shipment. The sun will come over that rise
in a short time and it befits our going before we are seen. Well!’ A boot hit
the side of a barrel. ‘You seem to have enough here to buy a kingdom!’
Marcus answered
with stiffness, in no dilemma, his voice indicated, as to which of them stood
in the more favourable position before God. ‘Cyprus was at one time bought and
sold by the Temple.’
‘And now,
Commander, the Temple flees from the island once more like ducks seeking
shelter for the winter.’
‘I am glad to
leave this place since it suits me ill to live among spies and thieves!’ Then
he was gone, headed for the beach and the barge.
Roger de Flor
made a laugh, hearty and loud, and searched the night. ‘What passion!’ he said.
‘Where is Etienne? Is that you in this darkness?’
‘They said you
died at Adrianople.’
‘I?’ Roger gave
another laugh. ‘I am immortal! Andronicus should have known as much. Now he
will have to keep not only Turks but his own son from
cutting out his tongue and gouging out his eyes. That is his payment for
contriving to have me killed. In any case, I was sick to death of those
treacherous Greeks – they would kill their own bed-ridden grandmother if
it were to their advantage. For my part I paid highly to keep them in their
fine illusion that I am in God’s heaven, and I must say, Etienne, being dead to
the world brings a new sweetness to life! Tell me, truly!’ He pulled the
Templar away from the goings-on at the shore towards the scraggly trees bent by
years of wind. ‘Your friend seems not changed since last I saved his life,’ he
said. ‘He continues reserved and gloomy and I suspect he leans his heart
against the pinions of his pride – not a health-some activity these
days.’
It seemed to
Etienne an unhappy event when a mercenary could so easily discern the complex
state of mind of a Grand Commander of the Order of the Temple. Such a thing
left it open and defenceless and it left him without a word to say in return.
Roger changed
the subject. ‘On a different tack, tell me, did you meet with trouble?’
‘No trouble.’
‘Good. Then
perhaps this fool’s game of hide and seek shall yet succeed. The Grand Master
awaits you. The other galley is to the north at Salamis and I will
Etienne. ‘I do not trust my own thoughts! That is what it has come to!’
Etienne stared
into the dark disc of that face and a concern rose to his throat.
This man will
put the entire business of the voyage and the task of hiding the gold at risk.
In the end,
however, he was the Grand Master’s choice, and a man such as Jacques de Molay
could readily see into a man’s soul and so Etienne made his voice sound serene
and confident. ‘I would have no argument with you, if you were wretched and
feeble, Marcus, madness is their luxury, but it is not ours, not yours and not
mine.’
There was a long
pause. Gulls made more cries out in the water. Marcus gave a short stiff laugh.
‘Yes, there is no provision in the rule for madness and none for luxury!’
‘Things go to
pieces.’ Etienne was looking at the dark around them. ‘I wish it were
different.’
‘You wish it
were different? Well, so do I, so do I.’ There was a sigh and his voice sounded
lighter. ‘No, perhaps I shall not go mad . . . You see? There . . . how the Bear shines this night in that black sky! Perhaps it is a good
omen?’
There was a
sharp whisper. ‘They are here!’ It was Andrew.
There was the
movement and shadows of a barge loaded with men and slaves. It pulled into
shore and let down a ramp into the soft sand.
A figure came
off the barge and began to walk towards the Templars. Etienne guessed it to be
Roger de Flor. When he heard a voice giving instructions to the slave master he
recognised it.
‘Grand
Commander,’ his voice sounded fulsome and active.
‘It is I.’
‘I will need
your men to help the slaves with the shipment. The sun will come over that rise
in a short time and it befits our going before we are seen. Well!’ A boot hit
the side of a barrel. ‘You seem to have enough here to buy a kingdom!’
Marcus answered
with stiffness, in no dilemma, his voice indicated, as to which of them stood
in the more favourable position before God. ‘Cyprus was at one time bought and
sold by the Temple.’
‘And now,
Commander, the Temple flees from the island once more like ducks seeking
shelter for the winter.’
‘I am glad to
leave this place since it suits me ill to live among spies and thieves!’ Then
he was gone, headed for the beach and the barge.
Roger de Flor
made a laugh, hearty and loud, and searched the night. ‘What passion!’ he said.
‘Where is Etienne? Is that you in this darkness?’
‘They said you
died at Adrianople.’
‘I?’ Roger gave
another laugh. ‘I am immortal! Andronicus should have known as much. Now he
will have to keep not only Turks but his own son from
cutting out his tongue and gouging out his eyes. That is his payment for
contriving to have me killed. In any case, I was sick to death of those
treacherous Greeks – they would kill their own bed-ridden grandmother if
it were to their advantage. For my part I paid highly to keep them in their
fine illusion that I am in God’s heaven, and I must say, Etienne, being dead to
the world brings a new sweetness to life! Tell me, truly!’ He pulled the
Templar away from the goings-on at the shore towards the scraggly trees bent by
years of wind. ‘Your friend seems not changed since last I saved his life,’ he
said. ‘He continues reserved and gloomy and I suspect he leans his heart
against the pinions of his pride – not a health-some activity these
days.’
It seemed to
Etienne an unhappy event when a mercenary could so easily discern the complex
state of mind of a Grand Commander of the Order of the Temple. Such a thing
left it open and defenceless and it left him without a word to say in return.
Roger changed
the subject. ‘On a different tack, tell me, did you meet with trouble?’
‘No trouble.’
‘Good. Then
perhaps this fool’s game of hide and seek shall yet succeed. The Grand Master
awaits you. The other galley is to the north at Salamis and I will
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