Jack Whyte - Order in Chaos

“And do you remember learning, and coming to believe, that Christianity itself is a usurpation and distortion of the Way our ancestors followed? The same sacred Way that the man Jesus and his brother James pursued and the secrets of which they died defending? A usurpation because it was taken from the Jews, then stripped of every vestige of its Jewishness, and a distortion because it was thereafter scrubbed and cleansed and reconstituted free of any Jewish taint that the Romans might find offensive, including the person and character of Jesus himself? Do you remember that? Any of it?”

Will, taken aback by the quiet ferocity of this sudden catechism, could only raise his hands as if in self-defense. “Of course I do. I remember all of it.”

“Then the time has come to start living your true life, as one of us, a Brother of the Order of Sion.”

“Do you doubt that I have been doing so?”

“No, not at all. But we believe you need to see things afresh, beginning now.”

“We. You mean you and Sir Simon?”

“No. I mean we and all your peers in the brotherhood. That is the message we bring to you: it is time to take stock of what remains to you and your people here on Arran.”

“All that remains to us, from what you have told us today, is our freedom, and we are fortunate to have that. But what use is freedom if we cannot exercise it?”

“That is true. As things stand now, your freedom is constrained. But that is why we are here, Simon and I. Unless you take steps to alter fate, you will have only the freedom to die off, one by one, until the last of you disappears. You know that already. We were greatly encouraged to see that you had already given this matter much thought before reporting your concerns, because you are correct in thinking that your younger men, at least, should be released from their oath of chastity. Without the ability to procreate, you and your charges will soon be left with no one to whom you can entrust your legacy.”

Will frowned again, more deeply now. “What legacy is that?”

“Your legacy as Templars … the last free Templars. After two hundred years, is that not worth preserving?”

Now Will threw up his hands in exasperation. “I certainly think so … of course I do. But you have just finished telling me it is time to leave all that behind.”

“Did I say that? No. What I said was that it is time to start living your true life again, as one of our brotherhood before all else. But that does not entail abandoning any of the responsibilities that are yours. It involves rethinking them and rearranging them, but there can be no question of abandoning your charges.”

“No more than there can be of releasing my men from their oaths of chastity and then expecting them to remain on Arran.”

Now it was the Baron’s turn to frown, tilting his head slightly to one side. “I don’t follow.”

“I did not expect you to, Baron. But there are no women on Arran. Or only very few, wives of the inhabitants, most of whom have long since crossed to the mainland. There are certainly no young women here, of childbearing age.” He shrugged. “Therefore, if we release our monks from their vow of chastity—even ignoring the fact that most would refuse, along with all the other reasons why such a course would be sheer folly—they would have to leave the island in search of wives, which would decrease our numbers and hasten the end of us.”

The Baron, clearly in need of guidance, looked at his friend de Montferrat, and Sir Simon spoke up.

“When you say ‘the end of us,’ you are referring to the Temple brethren here, is that not so?”

“Of course.”

“But us , to us, refers to our more ancient fraternity of Sion. The Temple, the entire Order since its initiation, has been but a means to an end for us … a convenient way of masking ourselves and our true endeavors from view. There is no end in sight for us, in that sense. Our existence is undreamed of beyond our own brotherhood and our work remains ongoing. That is why we are here, urging you to take appropriate steps to protect yourselves. Your very presence here, ostensibly as Templars, extends the presence of our true Order in this land, for besides yourself and those brothers here among your number, there are fewer than a score of our brothers in Sion in all Scotland. And yet our dearest and most precious possessions, the source of all our efforts, are now here, under your protection.”

“The Treasure chests,” Will murmured, then nodded. “Aye, they are, for the time being.”

“Of course. They will be returned to France and to safety when the time is right, but in the light of current developments it would be folly to risk bringing them back there today. And so you, my young friend, must stay here. That is your charge from your brothers in Sion. And you must prosper here—that is even more important. Our Order needs you here, enlarging and exercising your influence with the King of Scots and his nobles.”

Will shook his head. “But what has that to do with releasing the brethren from the vow of chastity? I fail to see the connection.”

De Montferrat grunted, then sucked in a great breath, clearly willing himself to patience. “Templars take three vows, Will. Which of those takes precedence?”

“Obedience.”

“Precisely. Now, as Master in Scotland, you have supreme power over all of the Templars here. We will find the proper way to explain the situation to them, and though you may be right and many may refuse to renounce their oath, some of them will. But those who do will yet be constrained to obey your commands as Master, and those commands will instruct them to find wives, wherever they can, and then return with them to Arran , where they will still be accepted as members of the community. I am not saying it will be simple to achieve. But I am saying it is necessary.”

“No, by God! Think of what you are saying, both of you … By relieving these men of the need to observe one vow, we debase all three. How can we say in conscience and with authority that one lifetime vow is less important than another, that we will absolve them of the sin of oath breaking in one instance, yet hold them to the sanctity of the others? It makes no sense. It is illogical.”

“Aye, it is. But the lack of logic is not ours. It is the logic of the world within which they have elected to live that has gone awry. We are all sinners. That they know, as Christians. But in this present case they have been punished and condemned by the very authorities they have spent their lives defending: the Church and the society in which they lived and served faithfully. Their priests, from the highest down, have betrayed them mercilessly and callously, and their King, to whom admittedly they swore no allegiance, has declared them treasonous, fit only for torture and the flames of death. If they hold dear to anything now, it must be to themselves and to the thought of survival, for themselves and their ideals. And that survival entails the getting of children to follow them into a new life. These are men who would have gladly died for their beliefs, fighting for Christianity and its beliefs. And now they are declared anathema by the governing body of that Christianity, deprived of any say in their own lives. Believe me, they will listen, and they will understand. And if one-tenth of them accept your absolution, that will make a score of new families here in Scotland. Families who may be taught the truth.”

“The Christian truth, you mean.”

“Aye. Our own truth is not Christian. But the Templars in Scotland must endure, by whatever means they must employ.”

“But still it seems impossible to do what you suggest. There has never been such a thing happen before … the lifting of a collective vow.”