Guy de Beaujeu handed the arrow to Saint-Remy, whose face changed as he examined the rudely cut missile and the five notches in its shaft.
"Have him sent to me."
A few minutes later a tall, strong-looking man entered the room where Saint-Remy awaited him. He was dressed simply, but in clothes that denoted nobility.
Saint-Remy made a gesture to the two Templar knights accompanying the Muslim, and with slight bows they wordlessly left the chamber.
When they were alone, the two men embraced and burst out laughing.
"But Robert, what is this disguise?"
"Would you have recognized me had you not seen the arrow?"
"Of course I would have-do you think me incapable of recognizing my own blood brother?"
"You were to see only a Saracen. My disguise is not as effective as I had hoped."
"The brothers have not recognized you."
"Perhaps not. At any rate, I have managed to ride for weeks across the lands of our enemies without anyone suspecting and thought to maintain the mask until I knew your mind. I knew you would remember the arrows we made as children, mine with five notches, yours with three."
"Have you encountered difficulties, my brother?"
"None that I have not been able to solve with the help of young brother Francois de Charney."
"How many men have you journeyed with?"
"Just two Muslim scouts. It is easier for a small party to pass unnoticed."
"Tell me, what news bring you from the Grand Master?"
"Guillaume de Sonnac is dead."
"Dead! How?"
"The Temple was fighting alongside the king of France, and the help we gave was both much needed and well received, as you know from the success of the conquest of Damietta. But the king burned to attack Al-Mansurah, although the Grand Master counseled prudence and careful planning unclouded by the taste of triumph. But the king is headstrong and would not pause in pursuit of his vow to recover the Holy Land. He insisted on entering Jerusalem."
"I sense you bring worse news."
"I do, I fear. The king's strategy consisted of surrounding the Saracens in Al-Mansurah and attacking them from the rear. But Robert d'Artois, Louis's brother, moved precipitously, wiping out a small encampment before the king's troops were in position and alerting the Ayubis. The battle was bloody."
Robert de Saint-Remy wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, as though to erase the memory of the dead that thronged his mind. He once more saw the crimson-colored earth, wet with the blood of Saracen and Crusader both, and his companions-at-arms fighting furiously, without quarter, their swords like extensions of their arms, piercing the bowels of Saracens on every side. He could still feel the weariness in his bones and the horror in his soul.
"Many of our brothers died. The Grand Master was gravely wounded, but we saved him, at least for a time."
Andre remained silent, watching a tempest of emotions sweep across the face of his younger brother.
"The knights Yves de Payens and Beltran de Aragon and I picked de Sonnac up off the field of battle after a treacherous arrow found him, and we carried him as far as we could. But the effort was in vain; he died in the retreat, of a fever."
"What about the king?"
"We won the batde. The losses were terrible; thousands of men lay dead or wounded on the ground, but Louis said that God was with him and that he would triumph. With that battle cry he rallied the soldiers, and he was right-we won, but never was a victory so fragile. The Christian troops marched off then toward Damietta, but the king was sick with dysentery and the soldiers were starving, exhausted. I know not how it happened, all I know is that the army capitulated and Louis has been taken prisoner."
A heavy silence fell over the room, and the two brothers, lost in their own thoughts, hardly moved for long minutes.
Through the window came the echo of knights doing military exercises on the glacis before the fortifications, amid the creaking of wagons and the ringing of the blacksmith's anvil.
At last Andre broke the silence.
"Who has been elected Grand Master?"
"Our new Grand Master is Renaud de Vichiers, preceptor of France, marichal of the order. You know him."
"I do. Renaud de Vichiers is a prudent and pious man."
"He has been sent from Acre in the Holy Land to negotiate with the Saracens for Louis's return. The king's nobles also sent emissaries, with instructions to ask the Saracens to put a price on the king's freedom. Louis is suffering terribly, although he is being attended by the Saracen physicians and receiving good treatment. When I left, the negotiations were making no headway, but the Grand Master trusts he will be able to secure the king's release."
"What shall the price be?"
"The Saracens are asking that the soldiers of the Crusade return Damietta."
'And are Louis's nobles willing to withdraw their troops from Damietta?"
"They will do as the king bids them-he alone can capitulate. De Vichiers has sent a message to him, advising him to agree."
"What orders do you bring me from the Grand Master?"
"I bring you sealed documents and other messages that I have been asked to speak in your ear."
"Then speak."
"We must secure the Mandylion for the order. The Grand Master says that the cloth is the only relic whose authenticity is certain. When you have it, I am to take it to him in our fortress of Saint-Jean d'Acre. No one must know that it is in our power. You may buy it or do whatever you believe necessary, but no one must know that the purchase is for the Temple. The Christian kings are capable of killing for the Mandylion. The pope will also demand it for himself. We have lent him many of the relics that you have been buying from Balduino all these years, and others are in the power of Louis of France, sold or given to him by his nephew.
"We know that Louis wants the Mandylion," Robert continued. 'After the victory at Damietta he sent a delegation with a message for the emperor. The delegation also carried documents with his orders to France."
"Yes, I know. A few days ago the Comte de Dijon arrived with a letter for the emperor. Louis asked his nephew for the Mandylion in exchange for aid to Constantinople."
Robert produced several sealed rolls of documents, which Andre laid on the table.
"Tell me, Andre, what do you know of our parents?"
His brother's lips tightened and he lowered his eyes to the floor. At last, he replied. "Our mother is dead. Our sister Casilda likewise. She died during the birth of her fifth child. Our father, though old and ailing with gout, was still alive last winter. He spends his hours sitting in the great hall; he can hardly walk for the terrible swelling in his feet. Our elder brother, Umberto, administers the inheritance-our lands are prosperous and God has given him four healthy children. It has been so long since we left Saint-Remy…"
"But I still remember the allee of poplars that leads to the castle, and the smell of baking bread, and our mother singing."
"Robert, we chose to become Templars, and we cannot and must not cling to the things of the past."
"Oh, my brother! You have always been too severe with yourself!"
'And you, tell me, how is it you have a Saracen squire?"
"I have come to know the Saracens and respect them. There are wise men among them, men of nobility, and chivalry, and honor. They are formidable enemies, whom one must respect. I confess, I have friends among them. It is impossible not to, when we share lands and there is need to have quiet dealings with them. The Grand Master has asked us all to learn their language and has asked some of us, who have an appearance suitable for it, to learn their customs so that we may live in their territory, in their cities, to spy, observe, or carry out missions for the greater glory of the Temple and Christianity. My skin has become yet darker in the sun of the East, and the black of my hair also helps me disguise my true nature. As for their language, I must confess that it has not been hard for me to understand it and write it. I had a good teacher, the squire who accompanies me. Remember, brother, I joined the Temple at an early age, and it was Guillaume de Sonnac who ordered the youngest of us to learn from the Saracens so we might mingle freely with them.
"But you ask about Ali, my squire. He is not the only Muslim who has dealings with the Temple. His town was destroyed by the Crusaders. He and two other children managed to survive. Guillaume de Sonnac found them wandering several days' journey on horseback from Acre. Ali, the youngest of them, was exhausted and delirious from fever. The Grand Master took them to our fortress, where they recovered. And there they remained."
'And they have been loyal to you?"
"Guillaume de Sonnac would allow them to pray to Allah and use them as intermediaries. They have never betrayed us."
"What about Renaud de Vichiers?"
"I do not know, but he made no objection to our traveling here alone with Ali and Said."
"Well, brother, you must rest, and send me Francois de Charney, the brother who has come with you."
"I shall."
Once Andre de Saint-Remy was alone he unrolled the scrolls given him by his brother, and he studied the orders sent by Renaud de Vichiers, the new Grand Master of the Order of the Temple.
The large bedroom resembled a small throne room. The scarlet curtains, the soft cushions, the carved table, the crucifix of pure gold, and other objects of hammered silver spoke eloquently of the wealth in which their occupant lived.
On a small table to one side, several decanters of carved crystal held spiced wine, and on an enormous tray were arranged a colorful variety of sweets from the kitchen of a nearby monastery.
The bishop listened impassively, almost aloofly, to Pascal de Molesmes, who had come again in lieu of Balduino. For an hour the French nobleman had wielded every argument at his command in an attempt to convince the bishop to turn the Mandylion over to the emperor.
The bishop had great love for Balduino; he knew there was kindness in his heart, even though his reign had been marked by a long succession of misadventures. But he was lost in his own thoughts.
Pascal de Molesmes paused in his plea when he realized that the bishop had stopped listening. The sudden silence broke the bishop's reverie.
"I have listened to you and I understand your reasoning, but the king of France cannot barter the fate of Constantinople for possession of the Mandylion," he told the nobleman.
"Our most Christian king has promised the emperor aid; if it is not possible to purchase the Mandylion, he wishes, at least, to hold it for some time. Louis is desirous that his Christian mother, Dona Blanca de Castilla, contemplate the true visage of our Lord Jesus Christ. The Church will not lose possession of the Mandylion, and it could profit by this agreement, Your Excellency, in addition to helping relieve Constantinople from the penury that it now suffers. Believe me, your interests and those of the emperor are the same."
"No, my son, they are not. It is the emperor who needs gold in order to save what remains of the empire."
"Constantinople is dying; the empire is more fiction than reality-someday Christians will weep over its loss."
"Seigneur de Molesmes, I know you to be too intelligent to try to convince me that only the Mandylion can save Constantinople. How much has King Louis offered just to hold it-how much to possess it? It would take great amounts of gold to save this kingdom, and the king of France is rich, but he will not ruin his own kingdom financially, no matter how much he loves his nephew or desires the Mandylion."
De Molesmes's throat was parched. He had not even tasted the glass of no doubt superb Rhodes wine that the bishop had offered him. But such were the sacrifices of diplomacy.
"If the amount was considerable enough, would Your Excellency consent to its sale or lending?"
"No. Tell the emperor that I will not surrender it to him. That is my final word. Pope Innocent would excommunicate me. For many years the pope has desired to possess the Mandylion, and I have always put him off by arguing against exposing the shroud to the perils of such a journey. I would need the Holy Father's permission, and even in the unlikely event he were to consider granting it, you know that he would name a high | price-a price that, even should Louis be able to pay, i would be for the Church, not for his nephew the emperor.
Pascal de Molesmes decided to play his last card. "I remind you, Your Excellency, that the Mandylion does not belong to you. It was the troops of the emperor Romanus Lecapenus who brought it to Constantinople, and the empire has never renounced its ownership of the cloth. The Church is but a repository for the Mandylion. Balduino bids you turn it over voluntarily, and he shall be generous with you and with the Church."
De Molesmes's words fell like lead on the bishop's spirit.
'Are you threatening me, Seigneur de Molesmes? Is the emperor threatening the Church?"
"Balduino, as you well know, is a most loving and beloved son of the Church, which he would defend with his own life if need be. The Mandylion is part of the empire's legacy, and the emperor is claiming it. I urge you to do your duty"
"My duty is to defend the image of Christ and preserve it for all Christianity."
"You did not oppose the sale of the crown of thorns, which was kept in the monastery of Pantocrator, to the king of France."
'Ah, Seigneur de Molesmes. Do you honestly believe that that was Jesus' crown of thorns?"
"You do not?"
A look of fury came into the bishop's blue eyes. The tension between the two men was rising, and both knew that at any moment the bonds of civility might break
"Seigneur de Molesmes, nothing you have said has changed my mind. You may tell that to the emperor."