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Authors: Amanda Forester
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The pope agreed to disband the order on charges of heresy, giving to the Hospitallers their assets, minus of course a substantial contribution to the king’s coffers.”
“So you believe the silver chest to be part of the Templars’ treasure?” Dragonet asked.
The bishop nodded and took a long drink of wine, draining the glass. He set the empty glass on the table and poured himself another. Dragonet wondered what he could do to warrant his father sharing a sip.
“Yes, it was found in Jerusalem and brought back to France. They were forced to hand it over to the Hospitallers locked in a silver chest. That much I have gathered from the records of the Inquisition.”
Dragonet shuddered. To fall into the hands of the Inquisition and their torturous ways was the stuff of nightmares.
“What is this thing for which you search?” Dragonet could not help being curious. The least his father could do was let him know what was in the box. Unfortunately, his father was accustomed to doing less than the least for his unacknowledged son and dismissed the impertinent question with a flick of his hand.
“We need to find the missing chest without alerting the one who holds it to its value or to our interest. I recently heard the confession of a dying knight who spoke of a group of Templars who returned from exile after the persecution and stayed with the Hospitallers before returning to exile. The relic must have been removed at that time.”
“Where is the treasure now?”
“Scotland.”
“Scotland!” Dragonet could keep neither the surprise nor the dismay from his voice.
“Some Templars escaped to Scotland years ago, but I have heard nothing of this box or what it contains. There are whispers of a hidden Templar fortune, but what is mere gold?” The bishop took another hearty bite of his savory pastry.
Dragonet said nothing. Gold was only meaningless to those who had never known want.
“You will go and find this silver chest,” the bishop commanded.
Dragonet again said nothing. Scotland? Did people actually live there? Wasn’t it terribly cold and populated by barbarians? The thought of leaving France was an unwelcome one.
The bishop stopped eating and gave Dragonet an appraising glance, as if judging how much to offer in order to gain compliance.
“Inside the chest is a relic so powerful, there can be none beside it. The old Templars are the key, they are where you must begin.” The bishop lowered his voice. “The Holy Grail itself is but nothing compared to this treasure.”
Dragonet waited for him to reveal what was the treasure of the Templars but the bishop merely took another sip of wine, waiting for Dragonet’s answer. The room was silent.
“I never wanted a child, but today I am glad to call you my son. Will you go on this quest, Sir Knight?” asked the bishop.
The corner of Dragonet’s mouth twitched involuntarily. His father had asked him in a manner that made it impossible to refuse. He was being manipulated. It was nothing new. And yet it was also his best chance at proving himself to his father.
“Yes, Your Grace. I will go where you send me.”
“Good. You will put aside your monk’s robes and disguise yourself as a traveling knight and join with the Duke of Argitaine on his mission to Scotland.”
“The Duke of Argitaine?”
“Yes, he goes to convince the Scots to make war against the English. You will travel with Argitaine. It will give you the perfect excuse to search the countryside for the Templars. I feel I must warn you that the previous monks I have sent looking for the relic have never returned. Some were killed, others…” The bishop shrugged. “The relic is not unprotected. Reveal to no one who you are.” The bishop paused, his eyes narrowed into suspicious slits. “I hope my faith in you will not prove to be misplaced.”
“I will bring you back the silver box, Father.” Dragonet bowed and kissed his father’s ring.
His father had asked him to find the
“So you believe the silver chest to be part of the Templars’ treasure?” Dragonet asked.
The bishop nodded and took a long drink of wine, draining the glass. He set the empty glass on the table and poured himself another. Dragonet wondered what he could do to warrant his father sharing a sip.
“Yes, it was found in Jerusalem and brought back to France. They were forced to hand it over to the Hospitallers locked in a silver chest. That much I have gathered from the records of the Inquisition.”
Dragonet shuddered. To fall into the hands of the Inquisition and their torturous ways was the stuff of nightmares.
“What is this thing for which you search?” Dragonet could not help being curious. The least his father could do was let him know what was in the box. Unfortunately, his father was accustomed to doing less than the least for his unacknowledged son and dismissed the impertinent question with a flick of his hand.
“We need to find the missing chest without alerting the one who holds it to its value or to our interest. I recently heard the confession of a dying knight who spoke of a group of Templars who returned from exile after the persecution and stayed with the Hospitallers before returning to exile. The relic must have been removed at that time.”
“Where is the treasure now?”
“Scotland.”
“Scotland!” Dragonet could keep neither the surprise nor the dismay from his voice.
“Some Templars escaped to Scotland years ago, but I have heard nothing of this box or what it contains. There are whispers of a hidden Templar fortune, but what is mere gold?” The bishop took another hearty bite of his savory pastry.
Dragonet said nothing. Gold was only meaningless to those who had never known want.
“You will go and find this silver chest,” the bishop commanded.
Dragonet again said nothing. Scotland? Did people actually live there? Wasn’t it terribly cold and populated by barbarians? The thought of leaving France was an unwelcome one.
The bishop stopped eating and gave Dragonet an appraising glance, as if judging how much to offer in order to gain compliance.
“Inside the chest is a relic so powerful, there can be none beside it. The old Templars are the key, they are where you must begin.” The bishop lowered his voice. “The Holy Grail itself is but nothing compared to this treasure.”
Dragonet waited for him to reveal what was the treasure of the Templars but the bishop merely took another sip of wine, waiting for Dragonet’s answer. The room was silent.
“I never wanted a child, but today I am glad to call you my son. Will you go on this quest, Sir Knight?” asked the bishop.
The corner of Dragonet’s mouth twitched involuntarily. His father had asked him in a manner that made it impossible to refuse. He was being manipulated. It was nothing new. And yet it was also his best chance at proving himself to his father.
“Yes, Your Grace. I will go where you send me.”
“Good. You will put aside your monk’s robes and disguise yourself as a traveling knight and join with the Duke of Argitaine on his mission to Scotland.”
“The Duke of Argitaine?”
“Yes, he goes to convince the Scots to make war against the English. You will travel with Argitaine. It will give you the perfect excuse to search the countryside for the Templars. I feel I must warn you that the previous monks I have sent looking for the relic have never returned. Some were killed, others…” The bishop shrugged. “The relic is not unprotected. Reveal to no one who you are.” The bishop paused, his eyes narrowed into suspicious slits. “I hope my faith in you will not prove to be misplaced.”
“I will bring you back the silver box, Father.” Dragonet bowed and kissed his father’s ring.
His father had asked him to find the
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