Julia Navarro - The Brotherhood Of The Holy Shroud

"Will the emperor accede to his uncle's request, then?"

"My lord, allow me to ask the questions."

"Before answering them I must know whether Balduino has made a decision."

In two long strides, de Molesmes planted himself before the count and glared into his eyes, measuring the sort of man he had before him. The Frenchman did not flinch; indeed, he hardly moved a muscle. Unwavering, he held the counselor's gaze.

"The emperor is meditating upon his uncle's offer. But he must know how much the king of France is prepared to pay him for the Mandylion, where it will be taken, and who is to warrant its safety. Without knowing these and other details, the emperor can hardly be expected to make such a weighty decision."

"My orders are to await the emperor's answer, and if Balduino agrees to deliver the Mandylion to Louis, to take it myself to France and deliver it into the hands of the king's mother, Dona Blanca, who will look after it until the king returns from the Crusade. If the emperor would like to sell the Mandylion, then Louis would give his nephew two sacks of gold, each the weight of a man, and return the lands of Namur to him. He would also make a gift to him of certain lands in France, which he might lease at a good yearly rent. If, on the contrary, the emperor wishes only to lend the shroud for a certain time, the king would likewise give him two sacks of gold, which Balduino would be pledged to repay in order to recover the Mandylion. If by a certain date, to be mutually agreed upon, the emperor did not repay his pledge, then the relic would-be-come the property of the king of France."

"Louis always wins," de Molesmes said irritably.

"It is a fair offer."

"No, it is not. You know as well as I that the Mandylion is the only authentic relic possessed by Christianity."

"The king's offer is a generous one. Two sacks of gold would allow Balduino to repay his many debts."

"It is not enough."

"We are both aware, sir, that two sacks of gold, each the weight of a man, would solve many of the empire's problems. The offer is more than generous if the emperor sells the Mandylion outright, since he would also enjoy the rents of his lands in France for the rest of his days, while if he but pawns it… well, I am not certain he would be able to repay such an amount."

"Yes, you are certain. You know very well he would never be able to recover the shroud. So, tell me, have you journeyed here with two sacks of gold?"

"I have brought a document signed by Louis pledging the payment. I also have a quantity of gold as a guarantee of the king's good faith."

'And what assurance can you give us that the relic will arrive safely in France?"

'As you know, I journey with a numerous escort, and I am willing to accept in addition as many men as you think necessary to ensure the shroud's safety. My life and my honor are pledged to see the Mandylion safe in France. If the emperor agrees, we will send a message to the king."

"How much gold do you have with you now?"

"Twenty pounds in weight."

"I will send for you when the emperor has made his decision."

"I will be waiting. I confess that I will not mind lingering in Constantinople a few days more."

Francois de Charney was practicing his archery with the other Templars, as Andre de Saint-Remy watched from the window of the great hall. Young de Charney, like Andre's brother Robert, looked much like a Muslim. Both had insisted on the necessity of taking on that appearance in order to cross enemy territory without undue contretemps. They trusted in their Saracen squires, whom they treated as close comrades.

After so many years in the East, the Temple had changed. Its knights had come to appreciate the values of its enemies-the Templars had not been content to engage them only in battle but also in their daily lives, and out of that had grown the mutual respect between the Templar knights and the Saracens.

Guillaume de Sonnac had been a prudent Grand Master, and he had seen something remarkable in Robert and Francois, qualities that would allow them to be the perfect spies-for thus they were.

The two knights spoke Arabic fluently, and when they were with their squires they comported themselves as true Arabs. With their skin browned by the sun and their vestments of Saracen nobility, it was difficult to see them as the Christian gentlemen they were.

They had told Andre of their countless adventures in the Holy Land, of the enchantments of the desert where they had learned to live, of writings by the Greek philosophers of antiquity recovered by the wisdom of the Saracens, of the arts of medicine learned from them.

The young men could not conceal their admiration for the enemies they had battled, which would have worried Andre de Saint-Remy had he not seen with his own eyes the young men's devotion and commitment to the honor of the Temple.

They would remain in Constantinople until Andre gave them the Mandylion to take to the Grand Master. He shared with them his hesitation to allow them to journey alone with such a precious relic, but they assured him it was only in that way that the shroud would arrive safe at its destination, the Templar fortress of Saint-Jean d'Acre, where most of the Temple's treasures were held. Of course, Saint-Remy had to first secure the shroud of Christ, and for that he needed patience and diplomacy, not to mention cunning-all qualities that the superior of the Constantinople chapter of the Temple possessed in no small amount.

ADDAIO ENTERED HIS HOUSE QUIETLY, TRY-' ing not to make any noise. The journey had exhausted him. Guner would be surprised when he found him in the morning. Addaio hadn't informed anyone in Urfa he was coming back so soon.

Bakkalbasi had stayed on in Berlin. From there he would fly to Zurich to withdraw the money they needed to pay the two men who were being hired to kill Mendib before he could be released from prison.

Addaio had known Mendib since he was a child. He was a fine boy, friendly and intelligent. Obedient. The pastor remembered how eagerly he had embraced his mission, their last words before he submitted to the age-old sacrifice and surrendered his voice forever so that the community might prevail. But now he was a known link between them and the cathedral. A link that must be broken.

They had managed to survive the Persians, the Byzantines, the Crusaders, the Turks. They had been living their secret lives for century upon century, carrying out the mission they had inherited.

God's favor should have been with them as the true Christians they were, but it was not-instead, He sent them terrible trials, and now a faithful young man had to die.

The pastor slowly climbed the stairs and went into his room. The bed was turned down. Guner always did that, even when Addaio was away. He could not have been a more faithful friend, trying always to make Addaio's life comfortable, sensing his wishes before he could make them known.

Guner would never betray him-it had been stupid to think that. If he could not trust Guner, then he would never be able to bear the burden he had carried since he was barely a man.

He heard a soft knock on the door and stepped to open it.

"Did I wake you, Guner?"

"I haven't slept for days. I must know. Is Mendib to die?"

"You got up to ask me about Mendib?"

"Is there anything more important than the life of a man, pastor?"

'Are you determined to torment me?"

"That's the last thing I want. But I can think of nothing else. Addaio, I appeal to your conscience-stop this madness."

"Guner, go. I need to rest."

Guner stared at him as if he could see into the depths of his dark soul. Then he abruptly turned and left the room. Addaio pressed his hands to his temples, trying to contain the rage and despair that pounded within him.