Gregg Loomis - The Pegasus Secret

Once seated, our guest gave his bowl of porridge a look of disgust. "No mead" he asked, interrupting the reading from the lectern. 9

The entire room went silent, so shocked were we that anyone less than a nobleman would expect to find meat, even more so in a weekday supper.

The abbot was an elderly brother, his voice little more than a wheeze across toothless gums. He coughed, making an effort to be heard from the dais where he shared a table with the elder and governing brothers.

"Good brother," he said, "Christ's last meal was only bread and wine. How much more nourishing is this? Be thankful, for there are many who have not even this simple repast."

Once again Guillaume gave that laugh as he raised his clay cup of watered wine. "You are right, good abbot. I am thankful for this meal and for the hospitality you afford a poor knight returning from the service of Christ."

Satisfied, the old abbot continued to gum the mush of cereals that was our lot more often than not.

Without lifting his eyes from his bowl and spoon, Guillaume muttered to me, "I did not expect the killing of the fatted calf but even the laziest of men can snare a hare and I have seen countless roe in the forest hereabouts."

Fascinated by words that would have earned me a beating for impertinence if not sacrilege, I asked, "And you Templars have hare or roe with weekday suppers?"

"And with the noon meal also. Or beef or pork. Mush like this does not sustain a man's body." "It does keep his soul, however," a brother on the other side whispered.

Guillaume shoved his bowl away hardly touched. It is a rich man who passes up food. Or a foolish one. "Souls do not fight the Saracen, bodies do."

After the meal, the order's rules required a retreat to the chapel for confession and then to individual cells for private prayer before Compline. 10I had been given a dispensation to work in the order's small counting room. The olives were near harvest and it was necessary I calculate how many boissel 11the order would have to press into oil for sale. I was completing my initial figures on a slate and preparing to transfer them to the permanence of sheep parchment when I became aware of Guillaume.

He gave me a smile filled with perfect teeth and entered to look over my shoulder. "These figures of the infidel, you understand them?"

I nodded. "You do not?"

He looked at them from one angle, then another, frowning. "A knight does not trouble with figures or letters. They are for priests and monks."

"But you are a member of a monastic order."

Again the laugh. "This is true, but a special order. You note I do not wear sackcloth that stinks 'and crawls with vermin, and that, dusty from travel, I bathe. The Knights of the Temple do not live like other monks."

"You certainly are not reputed to accept Our Lord's command to turn the other cheek, either," I said with unaccustomed boldness.

"Nor do I believe the meek shall inherit the earth. I do not believe our Lord ever said such a thing. It is cant, false dogma to keep serfs and vassals subservient."

Such talk made me uneasy, for it bordered on heresy. Yet he was a knight whose neck bore physical witness of his willingness to die for Church and pope.

"Obedience," I said, "is one of the basic vows of our order."

"And without it, chaos would result," he said. "An army marching to more than one set of orders cannot survive the enemy. It is meekness I deplore, not obedience."

This made me feel more comfortable.

"Besides figures, you also can understand written language?"

"If it is in Latin or Frankish and written boldly," I said modestly.

He seemed to withdraw within himself for a moment before he spoke again. "You have not taken your final vows here?" I had no idea why he asked but I answered truthfully, "I have not."

"My order needs men such as yourself."

I was astonished. "But, I am not noble-born, know nothing of arms such as you bear."

"You do not understand. For every knight, there must be provisioners. For every temple, there must be those who can count money and goods, scribes who can read and write languages. It is this post you can most surely fill. Come with me to Burgundy."

He might as well have suggested I visit the moon. I had never been more than a day's travel by foot from where I now sat.

"I cannot," I said. "These are my brothers who need me to do God's work."

A smile, not entirely devout, tugged at his lips. "I have learned that God usually gets what He wants, no matter the efforts of man. I am offering you three meals a day, two of which have meat. You will never go hungry. You will sleep on a clean bed, wear washed clothes that are not a nation of lice, fleas and ticks. You will do calculations of figures the likes of which you have never dreamed. Or you may remain here, as mean, dirty and hungry as any beast. Either way you will serve God, of that I am certain."

God nearly struck me dumb. I could not answer. Had I prayed, sought His guidance as I should have, I would have realized He was trying to tell me to remain. But, like many young men, the idea of such luxury turned my head.

"I leave right after Prime," 12Guillaume de Poitiers said, "before washing myself and before light, please God. You may share my esquire's ass. Or you may remain here, serving God in a lesser manner and a great deal more squalor."

The next morning, I left the only home I could remember, a cell only large enough for a straw mattress, with a ceiling so low I could not stand in it. 13Since poverty is one of the vows of the Benedictines, I took with me no possessions other than the rude sackcloth gown I wore. And the things that infested it. Would I had chosen to endure the vile life to which I had become accustomed.

Translator's notes:

1. All dates have been converted to the Gregorian calendar for the convenience of the reader.

2. 1290.

3. Actually, this directive came from St. Cassian. St. Benedict (ca. 526) founded the first order of monks who lived in a community rather than alone.

4. The monk in charge of provisions for the monastery.

5. The word used by Pietro is Middle Latin, noviciatus, which means the place where novices are trained. It is doubtful a rural monastery would have such a luxury.

6. A tunic of chain mail. The full battle dress of a Templar knight is described by surviving copies of the French Rule. In addition to what Pietro describes, it would have included: helmet (heaume), armour protecting shoulders and feet (jupeau d'armes, espalliers, souliers d'armes).

7. The City of Jerusalem fell to the Sultan of the Baybars in 1243. It is doubtful Guillaume or any of his contemporaries had ever even seen the Holy City, although it was the avowed goal of the Templars until their dissolution in 1307.

8. The name both crusaders and Templars gave to the Holy Land, which they viewed as simply another country under the reign of the Pope.

9. The Bible was read at all meals.

10. The last mass of the day, usually said right before bed.

11. It is assumed this Frankish word is the origin of the English bushel. The exact quantity denoted is lost to antiquity.

12. An early morning mass, usually around five A.M. The first masses of the day, Matins and Lauds, were said shortly after midnight. After Prime came Terce, then Nones, Sext, Vespers, etc., for a total of six a day.

13. Many monastic cells were intentionally constructed so the occupant was always bowed when in it, thereby enforcing the virtue of humility.

Dallas, Texas

The next day

Lang hated flying. He felt helpless and out of control belted into an airline seat.

Gloomily, he sat in the waiting area for gate twenty-two of the American Airlines terminal at the Dallas-Fort Worth Airport and watched the man with the little boy.