Knights Templar - Temple And The Crown Part 2

The woman drew herself up stif?y-she stood hardly as high as Nogaret's shoulder. Her bound hands still were trembling, but she did not ?inch from his scrutiny.

"Pardon, my lord, but such matters are not within my control. I do not seek visions; they come to me of their own accord, or not at all."

"Then we shall take measures to a.s.sist you," Nogaret said briskly, with a curt nod toward Bartholeme.

"Bring her to the table."

Hustling the woman forward, Bartholeme saw that preparations had been made in his absence. On a pall of ivory silk before Nogaret's own chair lay a large leather-bound Bible, several sheets of vellum, and writing implements. To the right of the book were set a bra.s.s goblet and a small ?agon of wine. To the left, mounted in a brazen candlestick, a thick taper ?ickered and burned with a faintly cloying scent like spikenard mixed with opium.

Signaling Bartholeme to untie the woman's hands, Nogaret moved the book before him and opened it at a place marked by a slip of parchment.

"I am told that you can read and write the Hebrew tongue," he said in a matter-of-fact tone, not bothering to look at her. "I am going to read you a pa.s.sage from scripture. I shall translate it from the Latin into French, and I require that you render the verses into the Hebrew tongue and set them down in your own script. See that you make no mistakes," he warned, "for I am as learned in these matters as any rabbi.

You will speak the words as you write."

Her face had gone still and pale, and Bartholeme could feel the tension in her shoulders as he bore her down into the chair at the table.

"What purpose is this meant to serve, my lord?" she asked without expression.

"My purpose," came the icy reply. "Question my instructions again, and one of your sons loses an eye."

Zipporah ?inched, but drew one of the vellum sheets in front of her and, with trembling hand, selected a quill from the a.s.sortment Bartholeme offered. When she had dipped it into a silver-mounted inkpot, Nogaret glanced at his text.

"The pa.s.sage is from the twenty-third chapter of the second Book of Kings, relating how the king of Babylon took Jehoiachin prisoner and appropriated the treasures of the Temple of Jerusalem. I shall read a phrase at a time, and you shall write it in Hebrew. Do you understand?"

At her nod and murmur of a.s.sent, he began.

"And he carried out thence all the treasures of the house of the Lord."

"Vayotsay. misham. es-col-otsros.bais Adonai." She spoke the words as she wrote them down.

"And of the treasures of the king's house."

"V'otsros. bais ha-melech. vay'katsaits."

"And cut in pieces all the vessels of gold. which Solomon King of Israel had made for the temple of the Lord. as the Lord had foretold."

Bartholeme watched over the woman's shoulder as she wrote out her translation with painstaking care, pausing now and again to select a word. Her hand trembled slightly, but the letters were well formed.

Bartholeme had not thought that women received such training; certainly, Christian women did not. When she was ?nished, he handed the vellum wordlessly to his superior, who scanned the tremulous lines of Hebrew script.

"Nicely done," Nogaret said, though he scarcely glanced at his anxious captive. "Precisely what was required."

Smiling faintly, he set down the parchment and rummaged somewhat distractedly among the writing implements, selecting a little silver knife used for sharpening the quill pens. Then, before she could react, he seized her left hand and drew the blade smartly across the palm, holding her fast when she would have pulled away in pain and shock.

The hiss that accompanied his glare of warning made her freeze as he tipped the bleeding wound over the parchment she had just written, letting blood drip on the lettering until all the characters were obscured.

Then, releasing her hand so that Bartholeme could bind a cloth around the wound, Nogaret plucked a hair from his own head and laid it across one of the larger splotches of blood. She gasped again as he held an edge of the bloodied vellum to the taper's ?ame until it caught.

His lips began to move as the parchment began to burn, and a choked sob rose in her throat, her ?ngers curled hard around the chair arms, as all of them silently watched the ?ame eat its way up the sheet toward the carefully penned lines-the men dispa.s.sionately, the woman fearfully. As the page crumbled and embers started to fall, Nogaret deftly held the burning parchment over the goblet to collect them.

When the last fragment had turned to ash, he reached for the ?agon of wine and poured some into the cup with a few more murmured words, swirling the cup until the ashes were suspended.

"Drink!" he ordered, presenting the cup to Zipporah.

Instinctively, she tried to shrink away, but Bartholeme's iron grip clamped down on her shoulders from behind and held her fast.

"I will not ask again," Nogaret said, again presenting the cup.

He had not raised his voice, but his tone was heavy with menace. Shuddering, Zipporah obeyed. When she would have lowered the cup after a single gulp, Bartholeme seized her by the scruff of the neck and locked his other hand over hers, holding the cup, forcing her to drain it.

The woman gasped and choked as she was forced to swallow, subsiding weakly as the cup was taken away. Over the next few minutes, as her breathing steadied, she began to look a little gla.s.sy-eyed, her pupils gradually contracting to mere pinpoints.

Watching without comment, Nogaret ?nally signaled Bartholeme with a jut of his chin. At once Bartholeme turned the woman's chair to face his superior, with a screech of wooden legs on stone, hard hands locking hers to the chair arms with an iron grip when she would have shrunk away-for Nogaret was taking up the ruby ring on its long gold chain, leaning close to press its stone against her forehead.

She stiffened at its touch, her breathing coming shallower and faster.

"By the rubrics of Zosimos, Princeps Arti?corum, I charge you to See what I have Seen," he commanded, as the others leaned nearer to hear what she might say. "Bring to light that which is hidden and speak with the tongue of truth!"

As a little cry escaped her, Zipporah's eyes rolled back in their sockets so that only the whites could be seen, and her lips and hands began to twitch. A bout of s.h.i.+vering seized her, and a grimace contorted her face. Then, abruptly, she went limp, with her head resting awkwardly against the back of her chair.

"Excellent," Nogaret breathed, drawing back slightly. "She is ready now."

A hectic ?ush had risen to his sallow cheeks, and he gazed at her avidly as he crouched down beside her chair, the ring now closed in his hand. Bartholeme moved round to support their victim from behind, heavy hands resting on her shoulders.

"I require answers to certain questions," Nogaret said sibilantly. "You will supply these answers truthfully or you will die-and all your family, make no mistake. Tell me, ?rstly, this: What is Jacob's Hallow?"

"A stone.a sacred stone," she whispered dazedly. "It is the pillow where the patriarch Jacob laid his head and dreamt of the ladder of angels."

The other members of the Decuria leaned closer, straining to catch the exchange, but uttered no sound.

"And where is Jacob's Hallow to be found?" Nogaret asked.

The woman hesitated, as if some inner part of her were resisting the compulsion to answer, but after a moment she whispered hoa.r.s.ely, "It lies now in Scotland."

Surprised glances ?ew around the table.

"What foolery is this?" Baudoin growled. But Thibault de Montreville gestured for restraint.

"Perhaps no foolery. The Canmore kings of Scotland formerly had a stone for their coronation seat," he reminded them. "Some of the legends surrounding this so-called Stone of Destiny claim that it came originally from the Holy Land. Most legends have some basis in truth."

"But the Canmore dynasty ended with the Maid of Norway," said Valentin de Vesey. "And did not Edward of England seize all the royal relics of Scotland some ten years ago and remove them to London?"

"Apparently, not this relic," said a fair-haired younger man named Artus Beaumaris, thus far silent. He added, with a wry grimace, "To uninitiated eyes, one block of stone must look much the same as any other."

"You're suggesting that someone subst.i.tuted a fake?" asked Peret Auvergnais, another who had not spoken hitherto.

"They must have done, if my lord Nogaret's vision is true," said Euraud Ba.s.segard, seated at his left.

"Aye, and the issue of Scottish sovereignty is still far from settled," Thibault noted. "And if the Stone and Jacob's Hallow are one and the same, and the Stone is still in Scotland, that means that the Scots possess the ability to crown a true king-and perhaps to invest him with power on higher levels, power that might be of use to the Temple."

"A sobering and disturbing thought," Rodolphe agreed. "Such an alliance would not be useful to our cause." He paused a beat. "Will it be the Bruce whom they have crowned?"

"Who else?" Thibault retorted. "Earlier this year, he eliminated his closest rival, Red John Comyn-murdered him before the altar, they say. It could well be that he has taken to himself the crown of the Scots."

"Little would it mean, be he not enthroned upon the Stone," Rodolphe retorted. "But according to your vision." he said to Nogaret.

"Aye, it is possible," Nogaret agreed. "Perhaps the Jewess can tell us." He turned to address his prisoner again. "Who is the man crowned on the Stone? Speak," he demanded, when she did not answer immediately.

"He is. successor to the Uncrowned King," came her halting response.

"The Uncrowned King?" Euraud repeated.

"Wallace," Nogaret supplied, under his breath. "And what is the name of this new king? Answer me, woman!"

Zipporah's brow furrowed in uncertainty, her closed eyelids ?ickering. "King.Hobbe." she murmured at last.

"What kind of a name is that?" Valentin muttered.

"The only name we seem likely to get," Nogaret retorted. "But Hobbe. Bobby. Robert.It's clear who she means. She cannot lie under this compulsion." Considering, he abandoned this line of inquiry and switched to a more direct line of questioning.

"Besides Jacob's Pillow, what other treasures of Israel are known to the Templars?"

"I-may not say," Zipporah managed to murmur, after an obvious internal struggle.

"On the contrary, you must say," Nogaret retorted. His pale eyes registered a glint of excitement-and challenge. "Name them!" he commanded.

The woman stiffened, her ?ngers curling like claws around the ends of the chair arms as her head slowly moved from side to side. Her lips moved, but no sound came out.

Rodolphe arched an eyebrow. "She may not be able to lie, but she's putting up a ?ght."

"And that is a mistake!" Nogaret muttered through tight lips.

Roughly he yanked the kerchief from Zipporah's head and caught her by the hair, again applying the ruby to her forehead. Its touch evoked a choked cry as the seeress tried to wrench herself away, but Bartholeme tightened his grip, and Nogaret held the stone ruthlessly in place.

"What-other-treasures-do the Templars have at their disposal?" the master demanded through clenched teeth. "The Ark of the Covenant, perhaps?"

"No!" Zipporah gasped.

"The horn of Joshua?"

"No." The answer trailed into a moan of anguish.

"The Breastplate of Aaron?"

Zipporah writhed in her chair, panting.

"Answer me!" Nogaret snarled, and gave the ring a twist.

A rending shriek of pain escaped the prisoner's lips, but it failed to move her listeners.

"The Templars have access to the Breastplate, don't they?" Nogaret persisted, unrelenting. "Who are its guardians, and where are they keeping it?"

Blue veins bulged at the woman's temples, and her jaws clamped shut, trapping her lower lip between her teeth. Blood welled down her chin. From somewhere at the back of her throat came an ugly strangling noise.

Instantly Nogaret ceased his ministrations with the ring and seized her by the jaw, trying to prise open her mouth.

"She's swallowed her tongue! Someone give me a knife!"

Bartholeme was already proffering the dagger from his belt, trying to hold her steady as Nogaret s.n.a.t.c.hed it and attempted to force the blade between her clenched teeth. He succeeded in cutting her lips, but nothing more. As they struggled, Zipporah's contorted face grew increasingly livid, her heels drumming against the ?oor as violent convulsions racked her from head to foot. A ?nal shudder died away, leaving her slumped suddenly limp beneath their hands.

Hurriedly, Bartholeme felt for a pulse in her neck, then shook his head. "She's dead," he said almost in disbelief.

With a grimace of disgust, Nogaret turned away from the body, tossing Bartholeme's dagger on the table with a clatter and wiping his hands against his thighs, a look of vindictive intensity pa.s.sing across his pale face.

"Summon your men to remove that," he ordered Bartholeme, with a vague gesture in the direction of the dead woman. "Tell them to dispose of it-and the members of her family-so that no trace of them will ever be found."

Baudoin gazed after the soldiers as they carried the woman's body out of the room. "You might have stopped short of using killing force," he said sourly. "It's possible she could have told us more."

"What more is there to tell?" Peret Auvergnais countered. "The worst forebodings of Magister Nogaret's vision stand con?rmed: The Templars have some hidden agenda in Scotland, almost certainly in opposition to ours. With ancient Hebrew artifacts at their command, they could well prove unstoppable."

"Not if we can ?nd these treasures and appropriate them to our own use," Bartholeme said from the doorway.

Nogaret turned to survey the younger man with heavy-lidded interest, motioning him back to the table with a jerk of his chin.

"I quite agree," he said. "Do you see a role for yourself in achieving this objective?"

"I do-and not only to help redeem the treasures, but to settle an old debt."

"How so?" asked Rodolphe de Crevecoeur.

"I see a chance to prove myself worthy of the name I bear," Bartholeme replied. "Over a century ago, a distant kinsman of mine joined the Templar Order to spy on their activities and sow the seeds of destruction in their ranks. His name was Thierry de Challon. I would like to help ?nish the task he began."

"Admirable," Baudoin murmured, as several of the others also nodded agreement.

"Let me go to Scotland and confront the Templars there," Bartholeme continued. "It occurs to me that the English king perhaps has need of a physician, he being aged and ailing. I am not unacquainted with certain oriental medicines. And from the bosom of his court, and with the a.s.sistance of our patrons of shadow, I will undertake to ?nd this Stone of Destiny and remove it from the game."

"Very well," Nogaret agreed. "I place the matter of Scotland in your hands. See that you do not fail.

"Meanwhile," he went on, picking up Bartholeme's dagger to fondle its blade, "I have another use for the Jewess's kindred. If they cannot provide us with access to their Hebrew treasures, their wealth may serve to ease the king's ?nancial embarra.s.sment while we continue to work toward our own goals.

"And one of those goals is the downfall of the Temple. That may be closer than we think. The king is near to persuading the pope to summon the Grand Master from Cyprus, ostensibly to launch a new crusade but also to discuss amalgamating the two military orders. The Master of the Hospital is otherwise engaged in Rhodes, and will not come, but the Templars' Master has no such excuse. I am working on a plan that will eliminate him and his troublesome Order, and leave all the wealth of the Temple in our hands."

Chapter Three.