C. Palov: Templar's Code

Mercifully, his right hand had not been injured.

Caedmon glanced at the bandaged appendage, trying to put a “happy spin,” as Edie liked to say, on a bleak situation.

Although there is ample reason to rejoice , he thought, taking note of the soft chiaroscuro blush that suffused the congested cityscape with a heavenly glow. In the grassy median that separated the lanes of traffic, yellow jonquils jauntily swayed. For some inexplicable reason, it made him feel like a new man.

Inspired, he turned his head to the curly-haired maid who walked beside him. “For the longest time, I had no anchor in my life.”

“What about knowledge?” Edie glanced at the silver ring on his unbandaged hand.

“A course heading. A direction to sail the ship. But without an anchor, a man cannot put into harbor.”

“Am I hearing this correctly?” She could barely contain her laughter. “Did you just compare me to a barnacle-encrusted anchor?”

“I did. How bloody unromantic is that?” He shook his head, not exactly certain how to make amends. Then, hit with a brilliant idea, he came to a complete standstill and pulled Edie into his arms, kissing her full on the lips.

It was long moments before he finally pulled away. And then only because the public display had elicited three catcalls and two appreciative whistles.

“Umm, fly me to the moon.” Brown eyes gleaming, Edie batted her lashes. “Care to tag along? The in-flight movie is not to be missed.”

“I am completely enamored.” Slinging his right arm around her shoulders, they continued down the street.

“You’re enamored because spring is in the air. When a young man’s fancy turns to skirt chasing.” Edie flirtatiously raised the hem of her colorful skirt several inches.

“Curiously enough, Thoth was the Egyptian guardian of the vernal equinox.”

“Speaking of which, I know that you’re disappointed about losing the ‘missing link’ between the Knights Templar and—”

“Bugger the Templars.”

Now it was Caedmon’s turn to glance at the silver ring. Testis sum agnitio. Although as fascinated as ever with the elusive and enigmatic Templars, he’d vowed that he would never again let his passion overcome his reason, Edie having rightfully accused him of being obsessed.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m still grappling with the fact that Dr. Lyon seemed like a kindly grandfather. The sort who wouldn’t harm an annoying fly.”

“ ‘One can smile, and smile, and be a villain.’ ” The instant he said it, he apologetically grimaced. Of late, Edie had taken to calling him “Quetzalquotel.” “Pardon the literary lapse.”

“In America, we like our villains scaled and horned. It’s easier to pass judgment when something is clearly black or clearly white.”

“Gray does have a way of mucking things up. That said, Rubin Woolf had mentioned that the Jewish Kabbalists of Spain were the guardians of the Emerald Tablet prior to the Knights Templar.”

Edie cocked her head to one side, gaze narrowing. “Do I really want to hear this?”

Quite honestly, he didn’t know.

“It’s entirely possible that there are other relics or esoteric secrets to be uncovered in Spain,” he continued, deciding to plow his furrow. Come what may. “Given that the Templars were granted land tracts in Catalonia, Valencia, and Aragon during the Middle Ages and that there were established Jewish communities in those same regions, the Iberian Peninsula might prove a fascinating place to conduct research for my next book.” He hesitated, suddenly worried that he’d botched things so badly with the Emerald Tablet that Edie no longer wished to assist him.

He nervously cleared his throat. “Er, that said, would you be interested in—”

“Gee, Big Red. I thought you’d never ask.”

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Berkley premium edition / November 2010

Copyright © 2010 by Chloe Palov.

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