hurt.'
The two men disappeared into the room at the back of the inn. The knight's friends and the rest of the patrons rushed to the young man's aid as soon as the door was closed. Lifting him upon their shoulders, they hurried from the inn to the physician's house in the next street to have his wound stanched and bound before he bled to death.
The next morning the innkeeper greeted his two prickly guests with extreme deference, bowing and bowing until d'Anjou asked if the man's bowels were loose.
'No, my lord,' replied the innkeeper, mystified by the question.
'Then kindly stop bobbing around like a goose with distemper and bring us some bread and a bowl of sweet wine.' The man bowed again and darted away. 'Mind the bread is fresh.' D'Anjou called after him. 'Not that worm-gnawed crust you gave us last night.'
De Bracineaux walked to the entrance, pushed the door open and gazed out across the bare earth street. Beyond the low roofs of the surrounding dwellings, the timber scaffolding of the cathedral soared heavenward. 'I think,' he mused, 'we shall pay another visit to our quarrelsome archbishop this morning, and see if we can persuade him to see things in a different light.'
'How, pray, do you propose to do that?'
'While you slept, I have been thinking. On the evidence of the disturbance here last night, it occurs to me that the people of Santiago do not fully respect the Poor Knights of Christ and the Temple. A lesson in courtesy would not go amiss, I think.'
'I am intrigued,' said d'Anjou with a yawn. 'Tell me more.'
'You must learn to rein in your enthusiasm,' replied de Bracineaux, glancing back over his shoulder. 'It will do you harm one day.'
The innkeeper reappeared a moment later bearing an armful of fresh loaves and two jars of sweet wine, which he poured into his best cups. 'There is honey for the bread, my lords, if you please,' he said with a bow.
'Bring it,' said the baron.
They broke fast on bread and honey and sweet wine while the innkeeper watched them twitchily until they rose to go. 'Was everything to your liking, my lords?' he asked anxiously.
'You keep a foul rats' nest of an inn,' d'Anjou told him. 'It would be a boon to travellers everywhere if I burned it to the ground.'
The innkeeper drew back in horror at the suggestion.
'Pay him,' said the commander, moving to the door.
Baron d'Anjou reached into the purse at his belt, withdrew two coins and offered them to the innkeeper. As the anxious man reached for the coins, the baron tilted his palm and spilled them into the dirty straw at his feet, then turned and followed de Bracineaux into the grey autumnal mist.
They proceeded to the monastery where, following prayers, the gates were just being opened for the day. The Grand Commander strode into the cloistered square and called in a loud voice for his men to come forth. They appeared from various doorways-some from the chapel, some from the refectory, some from the dormitory. Marshalling his troops, de Bracineaux ordered them to saddle their horses and arm themselves for battle. This they did without question, although there was no indication of alarm; the town seemed peaceful and quiet.
Within moments this placid repose vanished in the clattering tumult of troops rushing to saddle horses and don armour. They assembled in the street outside the monastery gates and many of the townspeople, hearing the commotion, came out to watch the strange soldiers array themselves for war.
As soon as they were armed and mounted, Master de Bracineaux, with Sergeant Gislebert on one side and Baron d'Anjou on the other, took his place at the head of his company-four ranks of five Knights Templar, each wearing the long coat of fine chain mail and, over it, the distinctive white surcoat with the cross of red upon the chest; armed with lance and sword, and carrying the long-tailed oval shield – painted white and bearing the red cross-they rode out, passing slowly along the streets of Santiago de Compostela and proceeding towards the town's great square and the building site of the new cathedral. As the mounted troops moved slowly on, they gathered a crowd of curious townspeople along the way so that by the time they reached the unfinished square the onlookers outnumbered knights by more than ten to one.
The labourers were already at work; their fires and iron braziers were scattered around the site at places where they could warm themselves from time to time and cook their meals. The dull morning rang with the sound of heavy hammers on wood and stone, the creak of wooden wheels, and the braying of donkeys as the timber scaffolding and stacks of cut stone rose slowly higher, and ever higher.
Archbishop Bertrano stood at the broad base of the tower, shouting at one of the masons who gazed down at him from the unfinished wall high above. The mason pointed beyond him into the town square, whereupon the churchman turned and beheld the mounted Templars and their entourage of townsfolk. Hands on hips, he waited for the knights to draw near.
'You again,' he growled. 'I told you I wanted nothing more to do with you.'
'Good morning to you, too, archbishop,' answered de Bracineaux cordially. 'I hope you passed a pleasant night.'
'It is none of your concern,' snapped the archbishop, eyeing the mounted ranks of armed soldiers.
'I myself did not sleep so well,' the commander confessed.
'Guilty conscience, no doubt,' remarked the cleric.
'On the contrary,' said de Bracineaux. 'I could not sleep for thinking how I might prove myself to you.'
'Then you have forfeited a good night's sleep for nothing,' the archbishop told him. 'Be gone, and let me return to my work.'
'And then, as I was at my prayers, the answer came to me,' continued the commander, speaking evenly and slowly so any of the many onlookers who understood Latin might understand. 'The example of Our Lord Christ himself provided the way to verify the truth of my claims/
'That I very much doubt, sir,' sniffed the archbishop. 'More likely it was the Devil you were listening to.'
'Diligent churchman that you are,' the Templar continued, as if he had not heard a word the archbishop said, 'you will certainly recall the incident recorded in the holy text where the Lord Jesu is approached by a centurion of the Roman army.'
Bertrano frowned. Drawn by the crowd and commotion, more people were streaming into the square. 'I know the text,' he said. 'Do not think to instruct me.'
'This Roman soldier, as you will recall,' continued de Bracineaux blithely, 'had a trusted servant for whom he had developed a certain affection.1
'Yes, yes,' snapped the archbishop impatiently. 'I know the story.'
'Do you?' remarked the Templar. 'I wonder.'
'The servant had fallen ill,' said the archbishop, his irritation growing, 'so the Roman sought out the Lord Christ and asked him to heal the man.'
'Indeed, yes,' replied de Bracineaux, smiling, 'the Lord said he would come to his house and perform the necessary healing at once.' He paused, his smile becoming fierce. 'And do you remember what the soldier replied?'
'Of course!' snapped the archbishop. 'Stop this mummery. I see what you are doing.'
'The Roman soldier stood before Jesu and said, 'My lord, I would not presume to have you set foot in my house. But just say the word, and my servant will be healed.' The Lord marvelled at the man's faith, and the centurion explained; he said, 'I myself am -''
Not to be outdone before his own flock, the archbishop took up the recitation, 'He said, 'For I myself am a man under authority, with many soldiers under me. I tell this one 'Go!' and he goes. To another, I say, 'Come here,' and he comes to me. To my servant, I say, 'Do this!' and he does it.'' He regarded the Templar shrewdly. 'Am I supposed to be impressed by a small recital of holy writ? Well, then, I am not impressed in the least. Even the Devil can quote scripture – as we all know.'
'My dear archbishop,' coaxed de Bracineaux, 'you miss the point of the lesson. You see, like that centurion, I am a man under authority, with many soldiers under me. Arrayed behind me are but a few of them. I say to this one: come -' he turned and summoned the first soldier from his place behind him, 'and, behold!-He comes.'
The soldier dismounted and ran to the commander's side. 'I say to him: stretch forth your hand!'
