Knights of the Black and White

THREE

The continuance of their good fortune began the following day with a summons for de Payens and St. Omer to attend the King that afternoon, and when they presented themselves at the palace at the appointed hour, they were admitted to the royal presence without delay, an event so startling in its novelty that both men felt a certain degree of trepidation as they were led into the audience chamber.

Baldwin le Bourcq, King of Jerusalem, welcomed them with extreme cordiality, clasping their hands warmly and dismissing his guards with a request that one of them should send in his wife and children. From the speed with which Morfia and her daughters appeared after that, accompanied by the children’s nurse, it was evident that they had been standing nearby, awaiting the summons. The King introduced the two knights to his four daughters, explaining that these were the knights who had saved their mother’s life from the Muslim bandits the previous day, and each of the little girls curtsied prettily, dipping her head in turn, as she had been taught, to each of the two knights, whispering her thanks as she did so. Only the eldest, Melisende, at fourteen years of age, gave the impression of sincerity, as befitted a young princess. Her next sister, Alice, at two years younger, appeared sullen and truculent, frowning beneath lowered brows. The two youngest children, Hodiema and Joveta, were typical little girls, with lisps and dimples and appropriate giggles. As soon as the little ceremony was over, their father clapped his hands and shooed them all off with their nurse, smiling fondly at their retreating backs until the doors closed firmly behind them.

Before he could fully turn back towards his guests, de Payens spoke up.

“Your Grace, I must point out that I was not one of the two who rescued my lady the Queen—”

“I know that, Master de Payens, as does my wife”—the Queen smiled and inclined her head to de Payens—“but I saw no point in confusing the children. Two knights saved their mother’s life, and they met and thanked two knights. That is all they will remember. Now please, be seated, and Morfia and I will join you.”

The knights exchanged speculative glances as they moved to the table the King had indicated, and the royal couple sat and waved to them to sit at the same time. A tray with glass cups and a tall, silver ewer was already in place there, the long neck of the jug beaded with moisture, and Queen Morfia herself poured drinks for them. When they had tasted the deliciously sweet, lemony concoction and praised the excellence of its flavor, the King sat back and cleared his throat before launching himself into what he wanted to say, and de Payens, at least, was well aware of how closely the Queen was watching her husband, her eyes flickering between his lips and his eyes.

“There are no words, I suppose, to express adequately how much I am in your debt,” he said eventually, and a smile flickered unexpectedly at one corner of his mouth. “My wife has impressed that upon me most profoundly. Even without her instructions, however, I should still be sitting here facing you and saying the same thing. Until yesterday, after your people brought her home, I had never really thought about the consequences of losing her—not merely to brigands, but in any way at all. Her misadventure yesterday, and your timely arrival, brought the narrowness of her escape home to me and made me see, very clearly, just what the loss of this woman would mean to me. I am not exaggerating when I say that I have no words with which I could even begin to describe such a thing. And so …”

It was clear from the tone of his voice that he had paused merely to consider what he would say next, and neither of the men facing him moved a muscle.

“When you and your friends first came to my notice, Sir Hugh, I thought you might prove to be an annoyance and a source of irritation—” He held up a peremptory hand as though he believed that either man might attempt to contradict him. “I have since changed my mind on all of that, because the value of your contribution to our state became obvious very quickly, even to your most virulent detractors. I was never one of those, but in the beginning I was never slow to join others in sharing a jest at your expense. As King of Jerusalem, however, and this is something I know you are well aware of, I have been plagued since the day I accepted the crown and assumed the throne, by the very problem you elected to attack—the brigandage that now seems to threaten the very existence of this state.

“We are surrounded—our kingdom is surrounded—by Mussulman armies, all of them battle ready and poised to attack us. In the beginning, they were all Seljuk Turks and we were not too greatly concerned, for we had already defeated them and cast them out of Jerusalem, in ’99. But that was almost two decades ago. Now we are in a new millennium, and we find ourselves being faced by a new breed of enemies, a race of warlike people who call themselves Saracens. We know little of them at this time, but I have no doubt that we are destined to learn more, and that learning will be greatly to our cost. For the moment, I know only that my spies insist the Saracens are out there, in the deserts of Syria, biding their time just beyond our borders. The only thing that keeps them at bay and deters them from advancing against us immediately is the current readiness and vigilance of our own army, and that readiness would be fatally impaired, I believe, the moment I diverted personnel into what I know would be a futile attempt to entrap and fight such an elusive and highly mobile enemy as these brigand bands. Indeed, for all I know, the worst of them may not be brigands at all, but infiltrators sent by these Saracens to pester us and tempt me to do just that—to divide my forces in an attempt to fight them.

“Then you and your people came along and presented yourselves to de Picquigny, who, although he is a churchman, is none the less an able strategist and a pragmatist with no fear of fighting the good fight. He brought your request to me, as you know, and he pointed out that I could do myself much good, at little or no cost, by freeing you from your knightly duties to your lieges and reassigning you to his authority, providing you would be willing to maintain your fighting skills and patrol the roads.

“That very suggestion shocked me at first. Fighting knights, certainly. That is fitting and as God intended. But fighting monks? God’s word on that is plain and unequivocal, written in the stone tablets Moses brought down from the mountain: Thou shalt not kill.

“But our Patriarch, a devout and holy man, was sufficiently pious and enlightened to discern that God provides His own solutions to threats against His teachings and His Church. I thought about that for a long time and eventually decided Warmund was right, and so I did as he advised.

“But I was strongly motivated by the thought that I could have your services at no cost to myself. I freely admit to you that, had that not been the case, I would never have agreed to release you from your former duties. Now I can see—and again, I emphasize, without need of my wife’s prompting—that I was wrong in being so …” He shook his head. “I do not even know the word I need. Cynical? Greedy? Perhaps both.”

The King sat back and reached out his hand sideways towards his wife, who took it in her own. “I know you ask for nothing for yourselves, and I know that you intend to undertake vows of poverty. And my Queen has made it very clear to me that she believes you to be utterly sincere in what you are about. But yet I feel that there must be something I can contribute—some way in which I can be of practical assistance to you in the work you have undertaken, whether it be in the form of weaponry, armor, or horses. I can certainly extend my protection and patronage to you, and I hereby do so and will have my wishes recorded in writing.” He smiled again. “That will at least guarantee that no one will sneer openly at you from this day forth, and that, in turn, will save you from having to sin in fighting against supposedly Christian oafs and louts, simply to defend your honor.” He looked from one man to the other then, all trace of humor vanishing from his expression. “Now, is there anything I can do for you, in return for what you did for me in person yesterday?”

De Payens glanced sideways at St. Omer, who looked back at him, shaking his head.

“What? What is it?” the King said at once. “You have something you do not agree upon. Tell me what it is.”

De Payens looked at him and shrugged. “Your Grace, it is an internal matter, one that we have been debating now for months.”

“An internal matter? Concerning what?”

The other man looked askance again at his companion. “It concerns the stables in which we are quartered, my lord King.”

“Ah! Well, that is understandable, they must be intolerable. I will find other quarters for you immediately.”

“No!” De Payens blinked at his own vehemence and immediately bowed his head. “Forgive me, my lord, but we are not at all unhappy with our quarters, other than that some of our brethren think they may be too luxurious.”

The King became aware of the increasing pressure of his wife’s fingers on his own and glanced over at her. She was staring fixedly at him, one eyebrow raised in an expression he knew well from his dealings with her and his children. Ask him what he means, it said, louder than words. He coughed throatily and turned back to de Payens.

“Too … luxurious,” he said. “I am not quite sure I understand what you mean by that, Sir Hugh.”

“We are very new monks, my lord,” de Payens said, “mere novices in fact, and under the sole instruction of Archbishop de Picquigny, and our lives have been … less than exemplary, in many cases, and decidedly lacking in many of the Christian virtues. And so several of our brethren—there are but seven of us, as you know, although we have an eighth currently wishing to join us—several of our brethren believe that we should be more zealous in our striving for enlightenment and salvation. They believe that our current quarters in the stables are too warm, too comfortable, and too conducive to sloth and idleness and inattentiveness to duty. And so they would seek to alter things.”

“To make them less luxurious?” The King was frowning. “Tell me, man, how in the name of God Himself do they intend to do that?”

Hugh de Payens shrugged his shoulders expressively, giving the impression that he himself could not understand, either. “What they would like us all to consider, my lord, is the undertaking of a truly penitential task. They are proposing that, in whatever amount of time the brethren have, free of duties and obligations, they should all work on excavating a real monastery beneath the stables, in the living rock of the Temple Mount.”

“Excavating a real monastery?”

The Queen bent forward, interrupting for the first time. “I think, Husband, if I may speak, that Sir Hugh is talking about digging monastic cells into the rock. Am I correct, Sir Hugh?”

De Payens flushed. “You are, my lady, but if I might make a request, please call me Brother Hugh, rather than Sir Hugh. But you are right, save that we are talking of digging into the floor, rather than the walls.”

“You mean tunneling downward?” The King was incredulous. “Why in God’s holy name would you do that?”

“For the honor of God’s holy name, my lord. Monks do that kind of thing. By tunneling downward, we will be increasing the work required, and thereby increasing the penitential value of what we are doing, while at the same time taking ourselves down beneath the level of the warmth and comfort generated by the bodies and the physical presence of the horses and kine in the stables. It would take us a long time, probably years, but eventually we would excavate a central shaft leading to a chapel, and branching out from there, each monk would then dig out and complete his own cell.”

“And you believe, truly, that this … thing … this endeavor … would be a worthwhile task?”

De Payens smiled at both royal personages. “Well, it would provide a focal point for our dedication when we are not patrolling or joined in formal prayer. It would keep us from slothfulness and from growing bored.”

“What would you use to dig your hole?”

“I know not, my lord. I am a soldier, not an engineer, but one of our people knows. He talks of chisel bars and hammers and tongs, and eventually the addition of pulleys and ropes and carts to take away the debris. I am sure he has all the necessary details in his mind.”

“And do you yourself subscribe to this idea as being worthwhile? I had the impression for a while there that you do not.”

“Oh no, my lord, not so. I think it is an excellent notion, in principle. But it would be costly to initiate, and for that reason I have not been fully supportive of it. But I certainly have no doubts about the value of the idea.”

“And what if you find treasure?”

De Payens managed to keep his face impassive. “Treasure, my lord? Forgive me, but I fail to understand. We would be digging into solid rock.”

“Aye, but mayhap not all the time. You might find something in all your digging—a hidden hoard of gold or precious stones. Such things happen. What would you do with whatever you found?”

The knight shook his head. “I … I do not know, my lord. I had not considered anything of that nature.”

Baldwin laughed. “Well, I have. Bear in mind two things: you are sworn to poverty, and Jerusalem is mine. Thus, any treasure, be it coin, bullion, or gemstones, belongs to me. I will pay you a portion of it in fair return for your labor. Will you agree to that?”

“Aye, my lord King, and happily, but—”

“Excellent, so be it! Talk then to your man with the knowledge and find out what tools you will require for your excavation. I myself will purchase and supply them, on behalf of the Queen. Is there anything else you can think of?”

“No, my lord. Nothing at all, other than the need to express our thanks.”

The King surged to his feet, still holding the Queen’s hand and drawing her up with him. “It was our thanks that needed to be expressed, Brother Hugh, and our friendship extended. Should you have need of anything further, let me know immediately.” He stopped, peering at de Payens. “What is it? You look as though something else has occurred to you.”

“No, my lord, nothing new. I simply thought of the need for privacy. If people hear the sounds of our digging, they might wish to know what is going on. But I suppose they will hear nothing, since we will be digging only within our own stables. There is, however, one additional consideration. We have, as I am sure you know, associates whom we call sergeants. They were formerly our servants and personal retainers, before we became monks, and now they assist us as before, but in a different capacity. They are warriors all, and without them we would not be able to do the half of what we do.” The King had been nodding as he listened to this, and de Payens concluded, “But they are lay brethren, not monks.”

“I don’t follow you. Why should that matter?”

“It does not, my lord, save in one respect. When we finalize our vows, they will have to remove themselves to separate quarters, so I would like to have your consent to build barracks for them, out of the stables.”

Baldwin made a harrumphing sound and flicked an imaginary crumb from the front of his tunic. “You have my consent. Build what you need. As for others wondering what you do, let them wonder all they want. I will know what is taking place there and that is all that matters. But you are right in thinking that there is no benefit in causing talk, so let this be a secret between us four. Not a word about digging anywhere, and not a single mention of treasure.” He raised a finger to his lips in an exaggerated symbol of silence. “Silence and secrecy, my friends, silence and secrecy. Fare ye well.”

The two knights stood and bowed, remaining bent at the waist until they were alone, and then they turned and made their way from the royal residence.

“WHERE DID ALL THAT come from?”

De Payens turned towards his friend, already smiling at the hostility in St. Omer’s tone. “I’ve been wondering how long it would take before you started to jump on me. I counted twenty-two paces from the palace.”

“I was being discreet. Didn’t want to start shouting at you within hearing of the King’s guards. They tend to be humorless about disturbances close to the King’s person. Now, will you tell me what that … that performance was all about?”

“What are performances always about, Goff? Diversion, amusement, enjoyment, and focus—always focus. But we’re still too close to the guards to talk about this. We will discuss it later, with the others.”

St. Omer stopped in his tracks, but kept his voice low. “No, Hugh, we will discuss it now, because I want to understand what you did this morning, before we even come close to discussing it with the others. I am finding it hard to believe I heard what I heard.”

“Very well, but let’s walk over that way, across the courtyard where we won’t be overheard … Now, what do you think you heard me say?”

“I don’t think anything. I heard you betray our plans to the King.”

“Are you sure about that, Godfrey? What did I betray?”

“That we intend to tunnel beneath the rock, into the foundations.”

“Oh, I see. I mentioned foundations, did I?”

“Well … no, you did not … But I knew what you meant.”

“But did the King know, Goff? Did he know what I meant?”

St. Omer hesitated. “No … He thought you were talking about creating a monastery out of the rock.”

“Now that is strange, because that is exactly what I thought I was talking about, too. And did the King grow angry over my presumptuousness?”

“No, but—Damnation!” St. Omer swung around and raised a pointing finger towards his friend, but then he stood silent, his frowning face working independently of his mind as he thought over what he was about to say, and then his brow cleared, his eyes widened, and he began to laugh. “Damn you, Hugh de Payens, you are the most devious, unscrupulous, and brilliantly deceitful manipulator of people I have ever known. You didn’t say or do any of the things I thought you had. And you hoodwinked the King himself as completely as you tricked me.”

“Oh no. There was no trickery of mine involved in what you thought, my friend. You tricked yourself by worrying too much about how Baldwin might see into my mind and read my true intentions. I could see that in your face, so I stopped looking at you after a time, lest someone else should see your concern as clearly as I could. And as for hoodwinking the King, I did no such thing. Nor did I lie to him. The brethren had that very discussion I described, about pretending to dig out a monastery. You were there, so you must remember it. We talked about everything I described to Baldwin.”

“Aye, I know. I knew that when you were talking about it, too, but I could not understand what you were doing, and I suppose I panicked. But you were astounding, now that I see the truth of what was happening. You disarmed the King, completely destroyed any possibility that his suspicions might be aroused now by some idle report of unusual noises or activities, and then you convinced him, without even seeming to try, that he should provide and pay for all the tools we will need in our excavations. I simply cannot believe you did all that in less than a single hour.”

“Don’t forget the treasure.”

“Aye, the treasure … When first he began to speak of it, I was convinced he knew what we were about and was speaking of the treasure we are seeking. I thought I might vomit from the fear that sprang up in me. But then I realized he was only talking about ordinary treasure, gold and jewels, and not our treasure at all.”

“And he has little hope of our finding anything at all, for even he knows that there are no treasures buried in the heart of solid rock.”

St. Omer was frowning again. “What will we do if there should be gold and gemstones among the treasures we are looking for?”

“There will be. The archives speak of it quite clearly, mentioning precious artifacts, temple accoutrement, and jewels of great value. We are seeking a temple treasure, Godfrey. Irrespective of what it may contain for our Order’s purposes of knowledge and Lore, it will also contain specie. When did you ever know or hear of a priest or a temple without wealth of some description? But that is a bridge we can cross when we reach it. In the meantime, the King does not really expect us to find anything. He is perfectly content to leave us digging in the stony heart of the mount, so be it we continue to patrol the roads and byways. And so we shall, Godfrey. So we shall. Now may we go and share these tidings with the others?”

St. Omer grinned and waved an open hand in an invitation to precede him, and the two men began to make their way towards the southwest corner of the Temple Mount, de Payens whistling quietly and tunelessly through his teeth.