here?'
Mallory didn't look at him. 'Food, shelter. Security.'
'Is that what you believe?'
'You are looking for knights?' Miller ventured hopefully.
James turned to him with a pleasant aspect. 'At the same Council of
Winchester, the decision was taken to re-establish the Knights Templar. Do you know of them?'
'A bit,' Miller said uncertainly.
'According to historical sources, most notably the Frankish historian Guillaume de Tyre, the Knights Templar were formed by nine knights under the leadership of Hugues de Payen in 1118,' James began. 'After Jerusalem fell to the Crusaders in 1099, it became a Christian city and the nine, under the name of the Poor Knights of Christ and die Temple of Solomon, vowed to devote themselves to the protection of all pilgrims travelling along the dangerous roads to the Christian shrines. They took quarters next to the temple and from then on became known as the Knights Templar.'
James led them from the Trinity Chapel into the presbytery and then into the quire, the 'church within a church' where the canons' stalls faced each other beneath the shining pipes of the organ.
'Ten years after their establishment, their fame had spread,' James continued. 'No lesser an authority than Saint Bernard, the abbot of Clairvaux, wrote a tract declaring the Templars to be the epitome and apotheosis of Christian values. They were soon officially recognised and incorporated as a religious-military order, Christ's militia, if you will, soldier-mystics, warrior-monks, combining the spirituality of the Church with a fighting ability that struck terror into Christianity's enemies.'
'Until the God-fearing royals of Europe had the Church brand them heretics,' Mallory noted wryly, 'because they had the misfortune to become too successful, right? Too rich and powerful… a challenge to the established order. Had their leader slowly roasted alive in the square of some French city… nice… had the knights hunted down and slaughtered, launched a propaganda assault to completely destroy their reputation.'
'You're obviously an educated man. But don't confuse the Church with the people who claim to administer God's Word,' James cautioned. 'Humans are fallible.'
'Pardon me for pointing it out, but you seem to have had your fair share of the fallible in your history,' Mallory countered, unmoved.
'We are all fallible.' James turned his attention to the high altar at the focal point of the cathedral. 'The decision to re-establish the Knights Templar was taken for practical reasons, and for symbolic ones. The new Knights Templar will protect our missionaries as they move out across the country. It's a dangerous land out there… worldly threats, supernatural threats, spiritual threats…'
'That's a tough job,' Mallory said. 'You'll need tough men.'
'Tough, yes. Not just physically or psychologically, but spiritually. It will be demanding, with little reward in this world.' There was pity in his smile. 'Many who wish to join will not be suitable. You need to understand that. But there will always be a role here for people willing to carry out God's Word.'
'Not many perks, though,' Mallory said.
James laughed. 'Sorry, no company cars! On the plus side, the Council decided not to continue with the strict rules under which the original Templars existed — shaven heads, beards, poverty, chastity and obedience — though we have adopted a distinctive dress for our knights so that everyone will know them when they see them coming.'
Mallory pointed to James' habit. 'You've got your own strict dress code as well.'
'Indeed. It was felt, with the various… strands… of the Church coming together, that a uniformity was necessary to bind everyone here into a single community.' He was choosing his words carefully, Mallory noted.
'You had some friction, then? A little local rivalry?'
'There was a danger of that, yes. So it was decided that we adopt elements of the Rule of Saint Benedict, which was written in the sixth century as a guide to the spiritual and administrative life of a monastery. Although we are not a monastic order — we are a chapter of canons — it was agreed that a certain level of… discipline was necessary.' He didn't appear wholly to agree with this, although he attempted to mask it with a smile. 'But you'll find out all about that later.'
As they turned to leave the quire, they were confronted by two men who had been making their way towards the altar. One of them was very old, possibly in his eighties, Mallory estimated. Hunched over his walking stick, he resembled a crane, both awkward and frail; he didn't appear to have the strength to walk any distance at all. Helping him along was a man in his late twenties with shoulder-length black hair and a long, pointed nose that reminded Mallory of some forest animal.
James knelt and formally kissed the hand of the old man. 'Our bishop,' he said, when he rose.
The old man smiled; his eyes were uncannily bright and sharp. 'Cornelius,' he amended in a rural Scottish accent. 'New arrivals?'
'More recruits for the knights,' James said. 'They're growing fast. It shouldn't be long before we have a full complement.'
'Then our community here owes you our gratitude,' Cornelius said to Mallory and Miller. 'You are our future. Your bravery will not go unrewarded.'
He began his slow progress along the aisle, but his companion held back. With a surreptitious glance at the bishop, he caught James' arm and said, 'The dogs have started to gather.'
James' expression darkened. 'Surely they won't make their move yet.' He, too, glanced after the bishop. 'Surely not yet.'
'They're driven by ideology. Common sense doesn't come into it.' He moved off quickly to catch the bishop's arm.
'Who was that?' Mallory asked.
'Julian. A good man. He's the precentor, responsible for the choir, the music and a few other recently added duties, mainly to do with the services and spiritual life of the cathedral. He's one of the four Principal Persons who oversee the Chapter of Canons, our guiding body.'
James appeared briefly distracted, then, sensing Mallory's interest, shepherded them quickly away before they could ask any more questions.
James took them throughout the main body of the cathedral and its ancillary buildings; it was important, he said, for every new arrival to understand both the facts and the symbolism of their new home. 'This will be our Jerusalem,' he said. 'In England's green and pleasant land.' He detailed the history of the cathedral from its construction between 1220 and 1258 following the decision to move it from its original location at Old Sarum, through to modern times, so that by the end Mallory thought he was going to go insane if he heard another date.
'The new cathedral was entrusted to Nicholas of Ely, a master mason, who encoded many mysteries in the sacred geometry of the building, utilising the vast secret knowledge of numbers, angles and harmonics passed down through the masonic guilds of medieval times,' James commented as they stood in the south quire aisle. 'They say the great secrets of our religion were locked in the stone, but much of the knowledge has since been lost. Who knows what the length of this column, or the angle of that beam, was meant to imply? What we do know is that the building itself was seen as an act of worship. Here, God is in the detail and in the greater design.'
'Is that why you made your base here?' Mallory asked. 'What was wrong with Winchester? Or Glastonbury?'
James thought deeply before replying. 'Those places were certainly considered, as were several others. In the end, the decision was made to come to Salisbury for one very important reason.'
Mallory read his face. 'But you're not going to tell us what it is.'
James grew serious. 'We like to keep a few secrets.' He winced as if he'd said too much, and Mallory was intrigued to see him change direction, leading them now up a winding stone stairway rising from the south transept.
'We have an excellent library here,' James said rather awkwardly, as if continuing the previous conversation. 'Its most famous item is a copy of the Magna Carta, but it has long been praised by academics for its ancient manuscripts, including a page of the Old Testament in Latin from the eighth century and two Gallican psalters from the tenth century.'
'I'll have to book those out on a quiet night,' Mallory said.
