Jack Whyte - Order in Chaos

Archbishop Lamberton nodded, then glanced at the King and held up the document he had received from Bishop Moray, who now sat listening in one corner. “Your Grace, this dispatch contains tidings that I thought Sir William might wish to hear before he leaves this room.”

Bruce nodded, solemnly, and the Archbishop returned the gesture, then looked down at the document in his hand and sighed deeply.

“Sir William,” he said, “this confirms that your Grand Master, Jacques de Molay, died a hideous and inhuman death …”

“I had heard of it,” Will said.

“This document says that Master de Molay admonished his persecutors—some say he cursed them, but I prefer admonished—calling upon King Philip and Pope Clement to join him for judgment before the throne of God within the year. Were you aware of that, Sir William?”

Will nodded, scowling.

“Well then, know this now, in satisfaction of a kind for the pain it must have caused you. It appears that your Grand Master possessed more power in his admonition than his persecutors, combined, held in their desire to see him and his name destroyed.” He took hold of the parchment with both hands and gazed down at it in silence while every man there hung on his next words. “I have tidings here informing me that Pope Clement is dead, at Avignon.” There was a concerted gasp from his listeners. Lamberton spoke again into the shocked silence. “But that news, solemn as it is, is eclipsed by the later information that King Philip of France, too, is dead more recently … three weeks ago, in fact. Both of them gone, in obedience to your noble Grand Master’s summons, within the year.”

The words seared through Will’s head as the Archbishop continued. “And so both your persecutors are gone, summoned to Judgment by the God in whose name they dared to sin egregiously.” He raised the document so all could see it. “No man can say who will succeed either one of them, but this world we know is changed, and only time itself will expose what may come next. One more thing, though, is certain. With King Philip gone, it seems de Nogaret will not long survive in France … not when so many hate him.” He held out his hand to offer the document to the King, but his eyes remained on Will’s. “I thought you might enjoy taking those tidings with you when you leave here this night.” He waited, and when Will did not respond, he nodded gently. “Go then in peace, Sir William, and with our blessing.”

Will was aware, on some level, of the reaction of the others to the Archbishop’s news, and he knew he behaved with propriety in bidding everyone there a proper goodnight. But as he walked along the halls towards his quarters, passing the motionless guards on every side, his mind was reeling with what he had been told, and what he would be able to tell his brethren afterwards: Capet and Clement burning in Hell; their own Grand Master vindicated thereby; and a new order dawning in the world.

He reached his room and found a solitary lamp burning low, its wick guttering smokily. He pinched it out and shed his clothes quickly, feeling the chill in the darkness as he fumbled to raise the covers and slip naked into the welcoming warmth provided by his wife’s body as she turned sleepily to draw him close and embrace him; his new wife; a new life; and the promise of a bright new land.

FINIS

GLOSSARY

aey (aye)

always; ever

bailey

the defensive ditches surrounding a motte

bothy

a stone outbuilding, usually for cattle or herders

braw

fine; beautiful; admirable

cateran

a homeless vagabond; a Highland bandit

enow

enough; sufficient

fell

fierce; merciless; formidable

fleering

flagrant

forbye

as well; in addition; besides; notwithstanding

fower

four

garron

a small, sturdy workhorse

gey

very

’gin

given; assuming; on the understanding that

girning

whining, complaining, scowling, grimacing

gowping

gaping

guddling

a method of catching brook fish with bare hands

hinna

have not; have no

jalouse

to guess; to suspect; to deduce

kine

cattle; livestock

leal

loyal

mair

more

mind

remember; recall

motte

the mound, sometimes a rock, on which a castle’s keep is built

moudiewort

hedgehog

ploutering

muddling, thrashing, wallowing

recks

matters, is important

schiltrom

a solid defensive formation of massed infantry with long spears

scone

(pronounced “skoon”) the traditional coronation site for Scotland’s kings

siccan

such

slaistering

floundering; making hard, muddy going of things

stirk

a bullock

syne

since

thole

to bear; to tolerate; to undergo; to put up with

toun

town

unkent

unknown

weel-kent

well-known

wheen

a number; a few

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

The task of acknowledging the assistance and goodwill generated by contributors to any work of historical fiction is always a daunting one, raising fears of offending by omission, simply because the range of people who have contributed to the finished work, whether from their personal knowledge and research or by offering insights or encouragement, is always vast. I always start each book full of good intentions, resolved to make note of everyone to whom I should be grateful, but in the heat of writing the actual work, I invariably fall behind in doing so and end up wondering whom I’ve forgotten.

There are some people, however, whose contributions to what I do have been invaluable, and most of those are the writers and academics whose own works have inspired me and informed my efforts to grapple with the job of sorting fact from fancy and to extrapolate my own tale, with all its speculations, interpretations, and outright flights of authorial fancy. I have no doubt at all that much of the licenses I take in constructing my tales would pain some of the people who originally nudged my thoughts in the directions I have pursued, but the errors, transgressions, and omissions I commit herein are my own, and most emphatically not theirs. I have read widely in the years of preparing and completing this trilogy, and my sincere thanks go to several distinguished authors who have made me stop and think, compare events and opinions, and then proceed in the fictional directions they have indicated to me, mostly without their intent. Paramount among those have been Piers Paul Read ( The Templars ), Barbara W. Tuchman ( Bible and Sword ), and Malcolm Barber ( The New Knighthood ).

I also acknowledge, freely and with gratitude, the invaluable collaboration and assistance of my hands-on editors, Catherine Marjoribanks and Shaun Oakey, whose individual skills, after years of working with them, never fail to awe and impress me. To them, and to all the other Penguins at Penguin Group Canada, my sincere thanks.

Jack Whyte

Kelowna, British Columbia, Canada

January 2009