Jack Whyte - Order in Chaos

You poor man, can you not see how hopeless your case is? What will you do when you discover that you are not merely the sole commander but the last? Where will you turn? Jessie allowed nothing of her concern to show on her face as she continued, solicitously, “And what will that involve? I know there are many things of which you cannot speak, but there are other matters that are more open … things that even I can see. What are the tasks that face you here on Arran, to demand all your time?”

“Housing and feeding my men and livestock, first and foremost, madam, although, thanks to Sir James, that will be much easier than it might have been.”

Jessie turned to Douglas. “What does that mean? What did you do?”

The young nobleman smiled, showing his strong white teeth. “I merely gave Sir William the use of a place here on the island, one forfeited this very day by its owner, who has plotted against King Robert and been caught. It is the other castle, Lochranza, on the northern coast, and it will suit Sir William’s needs. It has a fine harbor, deep and safe, and ample grazing for his beasts in the mountain valleys.”

If it is so fine, then why are you giving it to a stranger? She turned back to Sinclair. “And what will you eat there?”

“We can survive for the coming month on the rations we brought with us, and there are fish in the sea, wildfowl in profusion, and plenty of fresh water. After that we will be supplied regularly by our own trading ships. We will send a number of them out at once, with gold and silver coin, to purchase supplies for the short term in Ireland and in England and explore opportunities for future trade. Others we will send farther afield, to purchase trade goods in the English ports, and then to go and trade legitimately elsewhere.”

“Elsewhere?”

“In France, most particularly, where their primary task will be to bring back information on what is happening to our Order there.”

“But surely they will be denounced and thrown into prison as soon as they start asking questions.”

For the first time since she had met Sinclair a month earlier, Jessie saw him smile easily and spontaneously, sure of himself and full of confidence in what he was saying to her, and the transformation in him that the smile generated almost made her exclaim aloud, for his entire being seemed illuminated by its radiance and his habitual sternness vanished instantly, making him look ten years younger. “Who will denounce them, Baroness? And for what, curiosity? How will their questions stand out, when the entire country will be abuzz with talk of what is happening? Bear in mind that our people will not be recognizable as Templars. Nor as anything else, for that matter, other than mariners new into port and hungry for gossip and the latest news.”

“But … months will have passed by then. The story will be old. Surely, then, to bring it up again will attract attention?”

Sinclair’s smile remained in place as he glanced at Douglas and then shook his head. “Bring it up again? Baroness, the Order of the Temple has been a pillar in France, supporting and strengthening it for nearly two hundred years. Next to the Church, and the monarchy, of course, it is the most prominent institution in the country. The Temple and its influence—in land holdings, trading centers, buildings, estates, manufactories, farms, orchards, equipment, and livestock—are everywhere, flourishing throughout the countryside in every duchy, county, and region. I can imagine no circumstance under which the Order’s demise—even should it amount to total dissolution or annihilation—could be brought about, let alone that the Order be forgotten from human memory, within a matter of mere months. It is simply inconceivable.”

He waited for a comment of some kind, but when Jessie remained silent he continued in the same matter-of-fact, confident voice. “Which means that, no matter what has happened to our Order, no matter what fate might have befallen our brethren in France, the scope of the events of October thirteenth and the period that followed must be sufficiently significant to remain uppermost in the minds of Frenchmen and most worthy of discussion for a long, long time to come. Our mariners will land in ports around the coast, on both littorals, the Atlantic and the Mediterranean, and they will be perceived solely as mariners, behaving as mariners always do, and avid for information on what has been happening ashore while they were at sea.”

He said nothing of his plans to send envoys and messengers to make contact with the Brotherhood of the Order of Sion, but he had already discussed that matter with de Berenger and the few other members of that Order who had accompanied him here. The ancient Order would continue to function as it had for fourteen centuries, sacrosanct in its secrecy, and no more than slightly inconvenienced by the vicissitudes of the Temple and its adherents. Indeed it would already have begun to adjust to the loss of the public interface provided by the far younger Order of the Temple, and to revert to its time-proven system of functioning smoothly beyond the ken of ordinary men. It was guidance from the Sion fraternity that Will required most urgently.

Jessie had been observing him closely, watching the play of emotions on his face, and now she nodded slowly. In the face of his earnest sincerity she found she had lost all desire to bait him. Instead, and to her own great surprise, she found herself gazing at him with a new stirring of interest, a pleasing sensation of warmth and affection akin to her feelings towards her brother-in-law Charles. She was honest enough, however, to admit even in that moment that the affection was bolstered by a considerable attraction of the kind Charles would never inspire, and she took hold of herself sharply, shying away from the thought, vestigial though it was.

“I see you have thought this matter through. And it is plain that you will have much to occupy your mind and hands here in Arran, so I will wish you well with all of it, Sir William, and remove myself from your affairs.” She rose smoothly to her feet and nodded first to Will, then to Douglas. “Sir James, I thank you for your courtesy and consideration. If you will send a man in search of me tomorrow morning, I shall have my belongings brought ashore and will place myself at your disposal while you make the arrangements for our journey to the mainland. And now I will bid you both a good night.”

Will stood up wordlessly, feeling once again like an awkward, tongue-tied boy. But as James Douglas began to walk with her towards the entrance of the tent—a courtesy Will recognized as one he should have tendered—he pulled himself together.

“Wait!”

She stopped at once and turned back to him, one eyebrow slightly raised and an unreadable expression on her face, and he felt his own face suffuse with blood, appalled by the madness that had induced him to call out to her so brusquely. But he had done it, and now she was waiting, the woman and Douglas both unaware that his tongue had turned to dry wood. And then a memory stirred and inspiration touched him and he gestured vaguely towards the depths of the pavilion at his back, using the movement to counteract the urge to sway on his feet.

“There is …” He cleared his throat, willing his voice to steady itself. “I have a … a kindness I would … would ask of you, if you would honor me with your favor.”

Jessie had to stifle the unkind urge to grin at him and so increase his difficulties, for she had no doubt of what an unexpected smile from her would do to his stern demeanor. Instead, she inclined her head demurely. “It would be my pleasure to grant any favor you might ask of me, Sir William.” There, and think upon the subtleties of that, if you will, Will St. Clair, while you lie on your hardwood cot tonight.