The Brotherhood Of The Holy Shroud

34

Balduino had dressed in his finest robes. De Molesmes had counseled that he alert no one to the visit he was about to make to the bishop. He had also personally chosen the soldiers who would accompany Balduino as well as those who would surround the Church of St. Mary of Blachernae.

The plan was simple. When night fell, the emperor would present himself at the bishop's palace. He would politely request that the bishop turn over the Mandylion; if the bishop did not do so willingly, then the soldiers would enter the Church of St. Mary of Blachernae and take the shroud by force, if need be.

De Molesmes had finally convinced Balduino not to be daunted by the bishop or his power. The giant Vlad, a man from the lands to the north, would also accompany the emperor. His mental faculties were not strong, and he would follow without hesitation any order he was given-qualities that would be useful if it became necessary to bring additional pressure on the churchman.

Darkness had covered the city, and the only sign of life in its houses and palaces was the yellowish light of oil lamps. A pounding was heard on the gate of the bishop's palace. The servant who hurried to open it stepped back in surprise when he found himself face-to-face with the emperor.

The bishop's guards rushed to the gate at the servant's shout. Seigneur de Molesmes ordered them to kneel before the emperor.

The imperial party strode purposefully into the palace despite Balduino's rising terror. The resoluteness of his chancellor was all that prevented him from fleeing in panic from the interview that was to come. The soldiers of the imperial guard took up positions around the lower floors as the emperor and the chancellor ascended the stairs with Vlad.

The bishop had been savoring a glass of Cypriot wine as he reviewed a secret letter that had arrived that day from Pope Innocent. He opened the door of his apartment, alarmed by the noise that reached him from the stairway, and was rendered speechless as Balduino, Pascal de Molesmes, and the giant confronted him.

"What is this! What are you doing here-" the bishop exclaimed.

"Is this the way you receive the emperor?" de Molesmes interrupted him.

"Calm yourself, Your Excellency," Balduino said. "I have come to visit you, as has long been my intention. I regret not having announced my arrival ahead of time, but matters of state prevented me."

Balduino's smile did not calm the bishop, who remained silent as he backed away from them.

"May we sit down?" the emperor asked.

The bishop finally found his voice. "Yes, of course, come in, come in," he stammered. "Your unexpected visit has surprised me, my lord. I will call my servants to bring us wine. I will have them light more lamps, and-"

"No," de Molesmes broke in again. "There is no need for you to do anything. The emperor honors you with his presence. Hear him." He turned to the servants now clustered anxiously in the hall and dismissed them with reassuring words. Ordering the soldiers to stand by outside the bishop's apartment, he then followed Balduino and the giant inside, closing the heavy doors behind him.

The emperor took a seat in a comfortable armchair and sighed heavily. Constantinople must be saved. Pascal de Molesmes had convinced him that he had no option but to proceed.

Now recovered from his initial alarm, and taking a seat himself, the bishop addressed the emperor in a tone that bordered perilously close to insolence:

"What matter is of such importance that you find it necessary to disturb the peace of this house at this hour? Is it your soul that needs succor, or are you concerned by some matter at court?"

"My good bishop, I have come as a child of the Church to seek your counsel with respect to the empire's problems. Generally, sir, you care for our souls, but those who have souls have bodies, too, and it is regarding earthly problems that I wish to speak to you, for if the kingdom suffers, men suffer."

Balduino looked toward Pascal de Molesmes for approval of his approach so far. De Molesmes, with a barely perceptible nod, signaled him to continue.

"You know the dire straits of Constantinople as well as I. One need not be privy to the secrets of the court to know that there is no money left in the treasury and that the constant incursions of our neighbors have weakened us terribly. It has been months since our soldiers were paid all they are owed, and that is true also of my courtiers and ambassadors. I am grieved not to be able to contribute to the Church, of which I am, as you know, a loyal and faithful son."

At this point, Balduino fell silent, fearing that at any moment the bishop would react in anger. But while the tension in the room was palpable, the bishop simply listened-clearly weighing how to respond.

'Although I am not in the confessional," Balduino went on, "I wish to share with you my tribulations. I must save the empire, and the only solution is to sell the Mandylion to my uncle the king of France, may God protect him. Louis is willing to give us enough gold to pay the debts that hound us. If I deliver the Mandylion to him I will save Constantinople. And that is why, Your Excellency, as your emperor I am telling you that you must surrender the shroud to me. It will be in good Christian hands, like our own."

The bishop looked at Balduino fixedly and cleared his throat before speaking.

"My lord, you come as emperor to demand a sacred relic of the Church. You say that in this way you will save Constantinople, but for how long? I cannot give you what does not belong to me; the Mandylion belongs to the Church, and thus to all Christianity. It would be a sacrilege to put such an object in your hands so that you might sell it. The faithful of Constantinople would not countenance it, for they worship the miraculous image of Christ. You have seen the devotion with which they pray to it, Friday after Friday. You must not confuse the things of earth with the things of heaven. Our interests are those of Christianity. My flock would never allow you to sell the relic or to send it to France, however well guarded it may be by good King Louis. Understand that it is not in my power to give you the Holy Shroud of our Savior."

"I have not come to argue, Your Excellency, and I am not meekly requesting that you give me the Mandylion. I am ordering you to do so."

Balduino was pleased with having spoken these last words so resoundingly and once again sought the approval of de Molesmes. But the bishop was not to be commanded so easily.

"I must respect you as emperor, my lord, but you owe me obedience as your bishop."

"Your Excellency, I will not allow what remains of the empire to bleed to death because you insist upon retaining possession of a holy relic. As a Christian I regret having to be separated from the Mandylion, but now my duty is to act as emperor. I ask that you turn over the Mandylion… willingly."

The bishop shot out of his chair and, raising his voice, cried out, "You dare to threaten me? I warn you, if you rise up against the Church, Innocent will excommunicate you!"

'And will he also excommunicate the king of France for buying the Mandylion?" the emperor asked him, his voice rising.

"I will not give you the shroud. It belongs to the Church, and only the pope can dispose of the most sacred of relics-"

"No, it does not belong to the Church, as you well know. It was the emperor Lecapenus who rescued it from Edessa and brought it to Constantinople. It belongs to the empire; it belongs to the emperor. The Church has been but its faithful keeper, and now it shall be the empire that assumes custody."

"You shall comply with the pope's decision-we shall write to him. You may argue your reasons, and I will bow to his decision."

Balduino hesitated. He knew that the bishop was trying to buy time, but how was he to refuse what seemed a fair compromise?

Pascal de Molesmes stepped to Balduino's side and glared at the bishop.

"I think, Your Excellency, that you have not understood the emperor."

"Seigneur de Molesmes, I beg you not to interfere!" shouted the prelate.

"You will not let me speak? On what authority? I, like you, am a subject of Emperor Balduino, and my duty is to protect the interests of the empire. Return the Mandylion to its rightful owner, and we can bring this dispute to a peaceful end."

"How dare you speak to me in that way! My lord, bid your chancellor be silent!"

"Calm yourselves, both of you," ordered Balduino, recovered now from his momentary hesitation. "Your Excellency, Seigneur de Molesmes has spoken rightly- we have come to demand that you return what belongs to me. Delay not a moment longer, or I shall send my soldiers to seize the Mandylion by force."

With swift steps the bishop strode to the door of his apartments and called out to his guard. When they heard the shouting, a platoon came running.

Emboldened by their presence, the bishop turned back to his inopportune visitors.

"If you dare touch a thread of the Holy Shroud I shall write to the pope and insist that he excommunicate you. Now off with you!" he roared.

Balduino did not move from his chair, but Pascal de Molesmes, equally enraged, leapt to the open doorway.

"Soldiers!" he cried.

In seconds a squad from the imperial guard ran up the stairs and entered the bishop's apartments, while the prelate's own guards stood by in shock.

"You will defy the emperor? I shall have you arrested for treason, and for that, the penalty is death," exclaimed de Molesmes.

A shiver ran through the bishop's body. He looked in desperation at his soldiers, waiting for them to intervene. But they did not move.

Pascal de Molesmes addressed the frozen Balduino.

"My lord, I beg you give the order for His Excellency to accompany me to St. Mary of Blachernae and turn over to me the Mandylion, which I will carry to the palace for you."

Balduino rose and, summoning up all his imperial dignity, strode toward the bishop.

"Seigneur de Molesmes represents me. You shall accompany him to the church and hand over the Mandylion. If you do not obey my order, my loyal servant Vlad will personally take you to the palace dungeons, which you will never again leave. I would prefer to see you officiate at the Mass on Sunday, but the decision is yours."

He said no more. Without another look at the bishop, he swept from the prelate's apartments, surrounded by his soldiers and certain of having comported himself like a true emperor.

Vlad the giant planted himself before the bishop, poised to obey the emperor's order. His Excellency realized that he would gain nothing by resisting. Attempting to snatch from the embers some tatters of his wounded pride, he turned to the chancellor.

"I shall surrender the Mandylion to you, but I shall write the pope."

Surrounded by soldiers of the imperial guard and under the close watch of Vlad, the bishop made his way with the chancellor to the Church of St. Mary of Blachernae. There, in a silver casket, lay the holy relic.

The bishop opened the casket with a key he wore on a ribbon about his neck, and, unable to contain his tears, he took the shroud and held it out to de Molesmes.

"God will punish you for the sacrilege you are committing!"

The chancellor was unmoved. "Tell me, what punishment will you receive for so many relics sold without the pope's permission and truly belonging to the Church?"

"How dare you accuse me of such a thing!"

"You are the bishop of Constantinople. You should know that nothing that happens is hidden from the eyes of the palace."

Pascal de Molesmes carefully took the shroud from the hands of the bishop, who fell to his knees, weeping inconsolably.

"I suggest, Your Excellency, that you calm yourself and make use of your intelligence, which I know to be great," de Molesmes said, as he turned to leave. "Prevent a conflict between the empire and Rome that will benefit no one. You will not confront Balduino alone; you will confront also the king of France. Think long and well before you act."

The emperor paced nervously from one end of the room to the other as he awaited the return of de Molesmes. Balduino veered wildly between heartache and fear at having challenged the Church so dramatically and nervous pride at the successful exercise of his imperial authority.

A red Cypriot wine helped make the wait easier. He had dismissed his wife and servants and given his guards strict orders to allow no one but the chancellor to enter his apartments.

Such was his condition when suddenly he heard rapid footsteps before his door. He threw it open. Escorted by Vlad and carrying the folded shroud, Pascal de Molesmes, looking extremely pleased, entered the emperor's bedchamber.

"Did you have to use force?" Balduino asked fearfully.

"No, my lord. That was not necessary. His Excellency at last saw the light, and he has voluntarily turned over the shroud."

"Voluntarily? I think not. He will write the pope, and Innocent may well excommunicate me."

"Your uncle the king of France will not allow it. Do you think Innocent will stand up to Louis? He will not dare challenge Louis for the Mandylion. Do not forget that the shroud has been secured for the king or that for the moment it belongs to you-it has never belonged to the Church. Your conscience can rest."

De Molesmes held out the shroud to Balduino. The emperor hesitated a moment before taking the cloth in his arms. He looked at it in fear and wonder and then turned quickly to put it into a richly ornamented cask beside his bed. Turning to Vlad, he ordered him not to move from the side of the box and to defend it with his life if necessary.

The entire court had come to Hagia Sophia for Sunday Mass. There was not a noble who had not learned of the dispute between the emperor and the bishop, and even the commoners had heard echoes of the confrontation.

On Friday the faithful had gone, as usual, to St. Mary of Blachernae to pray before the shroud, but they had found the casket empty.

Indignation ran like wildfire through the masses of simple worshippers, but burdened as they were by the precarious state of the empire, no one dared confront the emperor. Nor did the worshippers wish to lose their eyes or ears, and however much they lamented the absence of the shroud, they realized that they would lament even more the loss of those organs.

In Constantinople, gambling was part of the very history of the city. For its inhabitants, anything might be the occasion for a wager-even the confrontation between the emperor and bishop. And so, with the dispute over the Mandylion now common knowledge throughout the city, wagers on the outcome had reached astronomical figures. Some predicted that the bishop would officiate at the Mass, while others wagered that he would not appear, and that with this affront to his authority the emperor would declare war on the papacy.

The Venetian ambassador stroked his beard expectantly, and the envoy from Genoa never took his eyes from the door. It would be good for the interests of both men's republics if the pope excommunicated the emperor, but would Innocent dare defy the king of France?

Balduino entered the basilica with the ostentation worthy of an emperor. Dressed in scarlet, accompanied by his wife, his most loyal nobles, and the chancellor Pascal de Molesmes, he took a seat on the ornate throne that occupied a place of honor in the sanctuary.

None of his subjects saw the slightest sign of concern in the emperor's expression as his gaze passed serenely over them.

The seconds seemed like hours, but after only a few minutes His Excellency the bishop of Constantinople appeared. Dressed in his pontifical robes, he strode slowly and ceremoniously toward the altar. The emperor sat impassively on his throne, while a murmur ran through the basilica. De Molesmes had been willing to wait briefly for the bishop, but if he did not appear after that, the chancellor had arranged that the Mass be said by a priest he had generously remunerated for the occasion.

The Mass took place without incident, and the bishop's homily was a call to concord between men and to forgiveness. The emperor took communion from the bishop, and even the chancellor came forward to receive the host and wine. The court understood the message: The Church would not defy the king of France. When the service had concluded, the emperor received his court at a reception abundant with delicacies, accompanied by wine brought from the duchy of Athens, a strong, full-bodied vintage with a lingering taste of pine resin. Balduino was in excellent humor.

The Comte de Dijon approached de Molesmes.

"So, Seigneur de Molesmes, is it possible the emperor has at last made a decision?"

"My dear count, in a very short while the emperor will give you your reply."

"May I ask what reply I might expect?"

"There are still some details that concern the emperor."

"What details might those be?"

"Patience, patience. Enjoy the food and wine, and come tomorrow to see me, early."

"Have you been able to persuade the emperor to grant me an audience?"

"Before the emperor receives you, you and I must talk. I am certain we can arrive at an agreement satisfactory to both your king and mine."

"I remind you that you are a Frenchman, just as I am, and that you have a duty and obligation to Louis."

"Ah, my good King Louis! When he sent me to Constantinople he ordered me, with all his heart, to serve his nephew as faithfully as himself."

The count understood de Molesmes's message. The chancellor's first loyalty was to Balduino.

"Tomorrow, then," he said, inclining his head.

"I shall be waiting."

The Comte de Dijon moved away, seeking the eye of Maria, Balduino's cousin, who was doing all in her power to make the count's stay in Constantinople a pleasant one.

The first light of dawn had not yet broken. Andre de Saint-Remy left the chapel, followed by a small group of knights. They made their way to the refectory, where, before going off to their labors, they broke their fast with a round loaf of bread moistened with wine. Their frugal meal done, the Templars Bartolome dos Capelos, Guy de Beaujeu, and Roger Parker directed their steps to Saint-Remy's study.

Though he had arrived there but minutes earlier, the superior was waiting for them impatiently.

"De Molesmes has still not sent me a message confirming my audience with the emperor. I suppose that the latest events have kept him busy. The Mandylion is being kept by Balduino in a coffer next to his bed, and this very day de Molesmes is to begin negotiations with the Comte de Dijon for the price of its delivery. The court knows nothing of the fate of the king of France, although we must presume that an emissary from Damietta will not be long in coming. We must not wait any longer for the chancellor's call; we will go to the palace now and I will request an audience with the emperor, to tell him that his most august uncle is a prisoner of the Saracens. The three of you will accompany me, and you will speak to no one of what I shall tell the emperor."

The three knights nodded and, following their superior's rapid steps, they soon came to the glacis before the fortress, where grooms were waiting with horses. Three mounted servants and three mules loaded with heavy sacks were there also and would form part of the Templar delegation.

The sun was just rising when they arrived at the palace in Blachernae. The palace servants were surprised to see the superior of the Templar chapter in person and understood immediately the import of such a visit at that hour.

The chancellor was reading when a servant rushed into his room to tell him of the presence of Saint-Remy and his knights and of the Templar's desire for an immediate audience with the emperor.

Uneasiness washed over de Molesmes. Andre de Saint-Remy would never come to court without a confirmed audience with the emperor unless something grave was afoot.

De Molesmes hurried through the palace to greet the superior.

"My friend, I was not expecting you-"

"It is urgent that I see the emperor," Saint-Remy replied brusquely.

"Tell me, what has happened?"

The Templar weighed his answer.

"I bring news of interest to the emperor. We must see him alone."

The chancellor realized that he would get nothing more from the Templar. He might try to worm the reason for the visit out of him by telling him that Balduino could not receive him on such short notice unless he, de Molesmes, were first apprised of the message, but he saw that this tactic would not work with Saint-Remy and that, if his wait was prolonged, he might well turn and leave without a word.

"Wait here. I will tell the emperor of your urgency."

The four Templars stood and waited in silence. They knew they were being watched by those able to read their lips if they spoke to one another. They were still waiting when the Comte de Dijon arrived for his interview with de Molesmes, surprised to see such an imposing delegation from the Temple.

A half hour passed before de Molesmes hurriedly reentered the room. He frowned when he saw the Comte de Dijon, despite the importance of the meeting he and the king's representative had planned.

"The emperor will receive you now in his private apartments," he announced to the Templars. "Comte de Dijon, if you will wait for me, the emperor has asked that I stand by his door in case he has need of me."

Balduino was waiting for them in a small room off the throne room, his eyes revealing concern over this unexpected visit. He sensed that the Templars were bringing unwelcome news.

"Tell me, gentlemen, what is so urgent that it cannot wait for a public audience, as is our wont?"

Andre de Saint-Remy went straight to the point.

"My lord, I come to inform you that your uncle, Louis the Ninth of France, is a prisoner in Al-Mansurah. At this moment, negotiations are being held on the conditions for his freedom. The situation is grave. I thought it prudent that you should know."

The emperor's face went white, as though the blood had drained from his body. For a few seconds he was unable to speak. He felt his heart beating fast and his lower lip trembling, just as they'd done when he was a boy and had to struggle not to cry, so that his father would not punish him for showing signs of weakness.

The Templar saw the storm of emotions that had taken possession of the emperor, and he continued speaking in order to give him time to recover.

"I know how deep and true is your affection for your uncle. I assure you that all possible efforts are being made to free him."

Such was the confusion in his mind and heart that Balduino was barely able to stammer a few incoherent words.

"When did you learn this? Who told you?"

Saint-Remy did not reply, but continued with his message.

"My lord, I know the problems that burden the empire and I have come to offer aid."

'Aid? Tell me…"

"You are about to sell the Mandylion to Louis. The king sent the Comte de Dijon to negotiate for the shroud's sale or lease. I know that the Holy Shroud is now in your possession and that once the agreement is concluded the count will take it to France, to Dona Blanca de Castilla. You are pressed by the Genovese bankers, and the Venetian ambassador has written to inform the Signoria that within a short time they will be able to buy what remains of the empire at a low price. If you do not pay off part of your debt to the Venetians and the Genovese, you will become an emperor without an empire. Your realm has begun to be a fiction."

Saint-Remy's hard words were having their desired effect on the spirit of Balduino, who, despairing, was wringing his hands under the broad sleeves of his scarlet tunic. He had never felt so alone as at this moment. He sought in vain for his chancellor, but the Templars had made it clear that they wished to speak to the emperor in private.

"What do you suggest, gentlemen?" he finally asked.

"The Temple is ready to purchase the Mandylion from you," Saint-Remy replied. "This very day you shall have enough gold to retire your most pressing debts. Genoa and Venice will leave you in peace-unless you incur more debt. Our demand is silence. You must swear upon your honor that you will tell no one-no one, not even your good chancellor-that you have sold the shroud to the Temple. No one must ever know it."

"Why do you demand my silence?"

"You know that we prefer to act with discretion. If no one knows where the Mandylion is, there will be no disputes or confrontations between Christian and Christian. Silence is part of the price. We trust in you, in your word as a gentleman and emperor, but the bill of sale will state that you will be in the Temple's debt for the full amount we bring you today if you reveal the terms of our agreement. We would also require the immediate repayment of all your other debts to the Temple."

The emperor could hardly breathe from the intense pain in his chest.

"How do I know that Louis is being held prisoner?" he managed to ask.

"You know, sir, that we are men of honor and would never lie to you about such a matter."

"When would I have the gold?"

"Now."

Saint-Rimy knew that the temptation was too great for Balduino, especially with the fate of his chief sponsor, the king of France, in doubt. By simply saying yes, the emperor would eliminate most of his immediate worries; that very morning he could call in the Venetian and Genovese ambassadors and pay his debts to their republics.

"No one in the court will believe that the money has simply fallen from the sky."

"Tell them the truth-tell them that the Temple has given it to you. You need not tell them why. Let them think it is a loan."

"And if I do not agree?"

"You are free not to agree, my lord. We have made no threat against this empire, or yourself."

They stood in silence. Balduino tried frantically to weigh his dwindling options as Saint-Remy waited calmly.

At last the emperor fixed his gaze on the Templar and in a barely audible voice spoke but four words: "I accept your offer."

Bartolome dos Capelos handed his superior a rolled document, and Saint-Remy in turn extended it toward the emperor.

"This is the agreement. Read it; it contains the terms that I have spoken of. Sign it and our servants will bring the gold we have brought with us and put it where you command."

"Were you so sure I would agree, then?" moaned Balduino.

Saint-Remy remained silent, though his eyes never left the emperor's. Balduino picked up a quill, affixed his mark, and sealed it with the imperial seal.

"Wait here," he told the Templar, and sighed. "1 will bring the Mandylion."

The emperor left the room by a door hidden behind a tapestry. A few minutes later he returned with a carefully folded piece of cloth.

The Templars unfolded it enough to ensure that it was the authentic Mandylion. Then they folded it up again.

At a gesture from Saint-Remy, the Scottish knight Roger Parker and the Portuguese Templar dos Capelos left the room and swiftly made their way to the entrance of the palace, where their servants were waiting.

Pascal de Molesmes, hovering in the antechamber, observed the coming and going of the Templars and their servants loaded down with heavy sacks. He knew it would be futile to ask what they were carrying, and he was bewildered at not having been called by the emperor. Time and again he considered entering the room with the others, but something counseled prudence. He feared provoking Balduino's wrath, and so he waited and watched.

Two hours later, with the sacks of gold deposited in a secret compartment hidden in the tapestry-covered wall, the Templars took their leave of the emperor.

Balduino would keep his promise of silence, not simply because he had given his word as emperor but also because he feared Andre de Saint-Remy. The superior of the Templar chapter in Constantinople was a pious man, devoted utterly to the cause of the Lord, but in his eyes shone the man inside, a man whose hand would not tremble if he had to defend that which he believed in or which he had vowed to do.

When de Molesmes entered the royal chamber, he found Balduino pensive but calm, as though a weight had been lifted from him.

The emperor informed him of the sad fate of his uncle the king of France and how, in view of the circumstances, he had accepted a new loan from the Templars. He would pay off the debt to the Venetians and Genovese and bide his time until good King Louis was once again at liberty.

The chancellor listened with concern, sensing that Balduino was concealing something, but he said nothing.

"Then what will you do with the Mandylion?" "Nothing. I will keep it in a secret place and wait for Louis to be freed. Then I will decide what to do. This may have been a sign from our Lord to prevent us from sinning by selling his holy image. Call the ambassadors and tell them that we will deliver over to them the gold we owe their cities. And call in the Comte de Dijon-I will tell him of the fate of his king."

4" Before the assembled knights of the chapter, Andre de Saint-Remy carefully unfolded the shroud, watching the image of the full body of Christ appear. The Templars fell to their knees and, led by their superior, began to pray.

They had never seen the shroud in its entirety. In the casket in which the Mandylion was laid in St. Mary de Blachernae, all that could be seen was the face of Jesus, as though it were a painted portrait. But there before them now was the figure of Christ with the stigmata from the torments he had suffered. Lost in prayer and meditation, the knights were unaware of the hours that passed, but night was falling by the time Saint-Remy rose and carefully folded the shroud and went with it toward his room. A few minutes later he sent for his brother Robert and the young knight Francois de Charney.

"Make ready for your departure as soon as possible." "If you allow us, sir, we could depart within a few hours, when the shadows of night will protect us," suggested Robert.

"Will that not be dangerous?" asked the superior.

"No, it is better that we leave the house when no one can see us and the eyes of those who may be watching us are overtaken by sleep. We will tell no one that we are leaving," de Charney put in.

"I will prepare the Mandylion against the rigors of the journey. Come for it, no matter the hour. You shall also take a letter from me, and other documents, and deliver them to Grand Master Renaud de Vichiers. You must not deviate from the road to Acre for any reason. I suggest that several brothers accompany you-perhaps Guy de Beaujeu, Bartolome dos Capelos-"

"Brother," interrupted Robert, "I beg you allow us to go alone. It will be safer. We can lose ourselves in the woods and fields, and we will have our squires with us. If we go alone we will arouse no suspicions, but if we go with a group of brothers, then the spies will know that we are carrying something."

"You will be carrying the most precious relic of Christianity-"

"-which we will defend with our lives," interrupted de Charney.

"Then let it be as you say. Now leave me, I must prepare the letter. And pray, pray that God may guide you to your destination. Only He may warrant the success of your journey and your mission."

There was no moon. Not a single star illuminated the vault of the sky. Robert de Saint-Remy and Francois de Charney crept stealthily from their chambers and made their way to the apartment of Andre de Saint-Remy. Silence filled the night, and inside the fortress the other knights were sleeping. On the battlements, a few Templars, with the soldiers in their service, stood guard.

Robert de Saint-Remy gently pushed open the door of his brother and superior's chamber. They found him on his knees praying before a crucifix on the wall.

When he became aware of the presence of the two knights, he rose and, without a word, handed Robert a cloth sack of no more than middling size.

"Inside, in a wooden coffer, is the Mandylion. And here are the documents you are to take to the Grand Master and gold for the journey. May God be with you."

The two brothers embraced. They did not know if they would ever see each other again.

Young de Charney and Robert de Saint-Remy pulled on their Saracen robes and, melting into the blackness of the night, hurried to the stables, where their squires awaited them, calming the impatient horses. They gave the password to the soldiers at the gate and, abandoning the safety of the chapter's fortress, set out on the road to Acre.