by D. N. Carter
“Allah be praised you are safe,” Taqi remarked and smiled, placing his left hand over her face to check it was really her. “’Tis wondrous indeed to know you are here and safe.”
Alisha smiled but tears welled in her eyes seeing how bruised and swollen his face was. A single white sheet covered him up to his waist but she could clearly see the almost black bruises up his side and the distended areas where his ribs had been broken. She kissed his hand and held it tightly as Paul and Tenno stepped into view. Paul silently pointed to his own eyes whilst looking at Master Roger. He simply shrugged his shoulders and indicated with a slight nod then shake of his head he was not sure if he would go blind or not. A light knock at the door drew all of their attention as Attar appeared. He smiled and bowed his head in greeting and stepped inside.
“Paul, please come and see me in my quarters when you can, please. I have cleaned out his wounds, checked his lungs are not damaged and rinsed his eyes with rose water and applied some honey based ointments. Attar, ’tis good timing. Perhaps you would avail yourself to help me with Taqi’s eye infection?” Master Roger said as Attar moved closer to Taqi. He simply nodded in silence and sat in the chair opposite to Alisha.
Ailia looked on puzzled at everyone and pulled her small comfort blanket close. Paul hugged her as Tenno looked at Taqi, concerned. Master Roger indicated with a slight nod of his head for Paul to follow him outside. Tenno took Ailia from him as he followed Master Roger into the hallway and walked to the main corridor. The whitewashed walls made the interior look far bigger than it actually was.
“Just tell me straight. With the swelling and infection, will he lose his sight?” Paul asked quietly.
“I cannot answer for certain. The infection is severe. I have seen men with lesser lose the eye. Perhaps you can get Theodoric to make up some of his famed threefold water?” Master Roger explained and asked.
“Blind…he would rather be dead!”
“’Tis early days yet. I am afraid Reynald knew exactly what he was doing. Just enough damage to incapacitate him and enough muck thrown at him to infect him so he remains alive but not well enough to be of any trouble. He was fortunately incredibly fit and otherwise in good health,” Master Roger said and paused as he looked at Paul, who was shaking very slightly, his face pale and despite the heat, not sweating. “You, my friend, I also note are unwell.”
“’Tis just a mild fever.”
“I think not. I must finish some paperwork…new statutes and rules on dress code to get rid of the impracticable closed cape in favour of a new open version. Silly details but it makes a massive difference in the field. But come and see me nonetheless when you are ready and I can give you something for your fever.”
“Thank you. I shall. But how long do you think it will take before we know about his eyes?” Paul asked and looked back toward Taqi’s room, concerned.
“Hard to say. But he will not be going anywhere soon that is certain.”
Paul pondered Master Roger’s words. They could not leave until Taqi was fit enough to travel again. No way would he leave him alone especially if Reynald was due to come as King Guy had decreed. Time was not on their side. He would see if Theodoric could make up some threefold water but also if there was a way he could get Taqi back to Al Rashid sooner rather than later. His thoughts were interrupted as Percival, Thomas and Abi entered the corridor, approaching fast, their footsteps echoing out.
“Thank you…and I shall visit you later,” Paul said and bowed his head slightly to Master Roger. “Thank you.”
“’Tis good to see you arrived here safely,” Percival called out and pulled Paul close, hugging him briefly. Abi smiled just as Thomas nodded at him. “But promise me no subterranean adventures whilst we are here.”
Paul stood back a pace and looked at Percival.
“I promise no visits…and thank you for bringing Alisha and Ailia here safely,” Paul replied.
“That was easy enough,” Percival remarked. “The next part of getting to Tortosa will not be as easy.”
Port of La Rochelle, France, Melissae Inn, spring 1191
“How come Taqi, as a Muslim, was allowed to be treated by the Hospitallers or was it simply because he was a friend?” the farrier asked.
The old man looked across at the Hospitaller to answer.
“In our hospices we are free to treat all and any person of any race, creed, gender or religion. Our Order is clearly divided into our military brothers, like myself, and those who work with the sick…and they treat all who come to them,” the Hospitaller answered.
“I hear your Order is equal to the Templars’. Is this so?” the farrier asked further.
“I think we could agree upon that,” the Hospitaller replied as his brother nodded in agreement.
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“The Hospitallers’, like the Templars’, is still a religious Order that has privileges granted by the Papacy,” the old man explained. “Like the Templars they too are exempt from all authority save that of the Pope, and it pays no tithes and is allowed its own religious buildings. Most of the more substantial Christian fortifications in the Holy Land are built by the Templars and the Hospitallers, who alone hold seven great forts and 140 other estates in the area. The two largest of these, their bases of power in the Kingdom and in the Principality of Antioch, are Crac de l’Ospital and Margat. The property of the Order is divided into priories, subdivided into bailiwicks, which in turn are divided into Commanderies. Frederick Barbarossa, the Holy Roman Emperor, pledged his protection to the Knights of St John in a charter of privileges granted in 1185 which initially stirred some rivalry with the Templars but thankfully by Master Roger’s diplomatic hand, a closer working relationship now exists between them as I mentioned previously. But back to your question. Taqi was treated like any other. The hospital in Jerusalem is large enough for two thousand patients and the wards are staffed by a Brother-in-Charge and twelve assistants, though Taqi was afforded a room alone for obvious reasons. There are even separate wards for women staffed by female servants. There are four physicians and four surgeons and as Alisha and Paul saw, the wards are kept clean and well ventilated. There were about three hundred Brothers altogether resident in Outremer that year. Food was always lavish to say the least because the Order knew the basic connection between recovery and eating good food. They learnt this from the many Arab influences in terms of the practice of medicine.”
“Why do they do all that?” Ayleth asked, puzzled, and faced the Hospitaller.
“Because helping to heal the sick is understood as an act of Christian love,” the Hospitaller replied. “Every poor man and woman should not just have good treatment, but the best and most luxurious treatment possible.”
“And Taqi received that?” the farrier asked.
“Yes and in person from Master Roger mainly until Paul could organise their departure for Tortosa,” the old man answered.
“I wish to know why would it not be so easy to travel to Tortosa, as you said earlier?” Ayleth asked.
“Because Saladin had many raiding parties out upon the land. King Guy had decreed all men fit enough for warfare must muster in Jerusalem…they must not engage in hostilities and avoid them at all cost until he could determine how many knights and men he actually had at his disposal. This meant many of the pilgrims and trade routes were left unguarded and unescorted parties would be liable to attack from either Saladin’s forces or bandits who were seizing upon the approaching instability in the region,” the old man explained.
“I take it Taqi would be staying in Jerusalem then?” Gabirol asked.
“Attar had been sent by Al Rashid upon hearing of his position, courtesy of a carrier pigeon no less, which just proved yet again how effective his own network was at passing on intelligence fast…,” the old man started to explain.
“Did he lose his sight then?” Sarah asked bluntly.
The old man looked at her and shook his head no.
“Luckily for Taqi he received the
best treatment from Master Roger when he required it the most. Plus some infusions made up by Attar.”
“Such as…and why did Roger need to speak with Paul alone?” Peter asked.
“Attar brought a special bean that when roasted and crushed then mixed with other herbs helped Taqi’s body fight the infection within his eyes. ’Tis called caffe or coffee, from the Arabic word qahwa, which changed to qahwi then to qahfi to caffè. The Arab world has given birth to many thinkers and many inventions, among them the three-course meal, alcohol and this coffee. Muslim mystics treasure it,” the old man started to explain.
“Where does this caffe drink come from?” Sarah asked. “Perhaps we can sell it here.”
“It comes from the highland areas of the countries at the southern end of the Red Sea, Yemen. ’Twas the Yemenis who gave it the Arabic name qahwa, which originally meant wine, and Sufi mystics used it as an aid to concentration and even spiritual intoxication when they chanted the name of God,” the old man continued to explain then paused for a moment. “But I digress from your question why Master Roger requested Paul to meet with him…it was so he could introduce him to one of his best knights…a tall and rather odd character at best,” the old man explained and chuckled to himself. “He was once a Templar, but by the request of Master Roger he joined the Hospitallers instead.”
“How was he odd?” Simon asked curiously.
“Odd is perhaps the wrong word,” the old man answered. “The knight I speak of was an orphan found abandoned within Cashtal yn Ard, or the Castle of the Heights…’tis a well preserved chambered tomb situated on raised land overlooking the parish of Maughold on the Isle of Man. The monument where he was found was originally a megalithic chambered cairn of a conical heap of stones built as a landmark. Some say it was used as a communal burial place for ancient chieftains and their families but now most of the stone cairn has been stripped away. The large firmly set stones create a dramatic burial site and it was providential that a very young boy, Theodoric, just happened to be visiting when he found the baby wrapped in swaddling. Even as a child he had the whitest of hair and the most piercing blue eyes.”
“Isle of Man you say…the place you mentioned previously?” Gabirol asked.
“Yes…and Theodoric took the baby to the small church of Saint Mary of the Isle Douglas where the young Theodoric had been working as an apprentice upon its construction. Remember how I explained that the Isle of Man and Anglesey were and are populated by Irish Aryans and were sacred spots where the Arch Druids based themselves…the Arch Druids being the highest ranking members of Britain’s priestly class who inherited their knowledge from the Babylonian Brotherhood via the Phoenicians?”
“I recall and I made notes because you stated it was connected to the mystical Isle of Avalon,” Gabirol stated.
“Good…but this knight…incredibly brave and both physically and mentally strong, was different in that he openly opposed any belief in what we call God as we are taught…,” the old man explained. “He believed in an eternal soul and a form of a collective conscience…which is why he got into so much trouble within the Templar Order…but Master Roger liked him and saw something in him.”
“You mean he was what I think our local Father at church terms an ‘atheist’…is that the correct term?” the wealthy tailor said.
The old man nodded yes in agreement.
“What was this knight’s name?” the Hospitaller asked.
“Master Douglas!”
“My Lord,” the Hospitaller exclaimed, visibly surprised. “You mean Lone Master Douglas?”
“Yes…that is another name he was afforded. Lone, for he was acknowledged as a Master of the Order but commanded no men.”
“How is that possible?” Gabirol asked, perplexed.
“Master Douglas, despite his claims of being an atheist, was incredibly knowledgeable and entrusted with the highest initiate secrets of both the Templars and Hospitallers…as well as those of the Sufi!” the old man explained and looked at the Hospitaller.
“We knew of him well enough…but,” the Hospitaller started to explain until the old man placed his finger upon his lips requesting his silence.
“So why would Master Roger want Paul to meet him?” Simon asked.
Hospitaller’s quarter, Jerusalem, Kingdom of Jerusalem, January 17th 1187
A single Knight Hospitaller sergeant stood watch at the junction of the corridor leading to Master Roger’s chambers. Several small ceramic oil lamps flickered away set within several equally spaced alcoves. The late evening was quiet save for the distant moaning of a patient somewhere off in the distance. The sergeant nodded acknowledgment to Paul and knocked upon the door gently.
“Enter,” Master Roger called out. The sergeant opened the door for Paul. He bowed his head slightly as he stepped through the low doorway to see Master Roger sat behind his large wooden table, a Hospitaller flag draped in front of it hanging down to the floor. A lanthorn illuminated the room, Master Roger smiling broadly as the door closed behind Paul but he immediately jumped to his right grasping his sword handle as he caught sight of a tall man to his left who had been hidden by the open door. The tall man raised his left eyebrow, then smiled as he looked across at Master Roger. “Paul…here is Master Douglas, whom I wish you to meet. You have much in common.”
“We do?” Paul asked puzzled as Master Douglas offered his hand. “Honoured to meet you,” he said and went to shake his hand. Master Douglas grasped Paul’s forearm as Paul gripped his in return. Even in the semi darkness of the corner of the room Paul could see his blue eyes. They immediately reminded him of Kratos. His grip was firm and Paul could easily feel the solidness of his forearm muscles through the long sleeve chainmail as it fitted him tightly. He held his stare. “Do I know you already?” Paul heard himself ask aloud.
“Not from this life time,” Master Douglas replied in a strong confident but well spoken manner. “But I shall make it my business to know you in this one.”
“I hear you do not believe in God,” Paul remarked as they broke their grip and stood apart as Master Roger stood up.
“Not the pathetic jealous and vengeful God your Bible speaks of…no I do not.” Master Douglas answered and studied Paul’s face carefully, looking for his reaction. “Do not get me wrong for I will stand up and defend any man or woman’s choice to believe in whatever they wish…and that includes the boy lovers of the den…but I will not be told how I must see things nor be told how I must understand matters.”
“I like a person who is not afraid to speak his mind. But why do you not believe in what Christians believe?” Paul asked.
“I like a man who wastes no time in getting to the point,” Master Douglas smiled and stepped closer to Paul to look at him better. “If you speak to an unknown and unseen person by yourself alone, you are considered mad. Do it in a crowd and it is accepted as talking to a higher deity, a God, and you have religion. So you tell me why sending thought messages to a Jewish ghost, Holy Spirit whatever, telling him you will accept his jealous and vengeful love under the conditions of his laws as your absolute master, removing your own free will and judgement, only to then ask him to remove a curse that was passed down to you because an old woman that was made from the rib of a man ate a magical apple because she was told to do so after talking with a speaking snake…so ask me again why I do not believe as Christians do.”
Paul looked at Master Roger quickly but he just shrugged his shoulders and smiled back. When Paul looked back at Master Douglas, he was tall and imposing, yet the look he gave Paul when he raised both his eyebrows made him laugh. He could not contain his laughter despite covering his mouth with his hand. Master Roger started to laugh. When Master Douglas raised his eyebrows even further, Paul laughed even more.
“I…I am so sorry…for laughing,” Paul exclaimed, waving his arms as he tried to contain himself.
Master Douglas looked at Master Roger, puzzled, but then started to laugh himself. As Master Douglas placed
his fingers from both hands around his sword belt he started to roar with laughter. As the three looked at each other laughing, Paul eventually managed to calm himself down. Whether it had been a mixture of the release of tension or tiredness, he was not sure, but it was the first time since Arri had died that he had laughed. The enormity of that simple fact was not lost on him as he wiped his eyes. He sighed and laughed lightly at the same time. Images of Arri laughing flashed through his mind. For a few moments Paul stood still, Masters Roger and Douglas looking at him closely as they stopped laughing.
“I had forgotten what it was like to laugh,” Paul said quietly. “Forgive my impoliteness.”
“’Tis no impoliteness I assure you. We are indeed alike as Master Roger has informed me. ’Tis an honour to make your acquaintance. I have heard much of you and I know your father well,” Master Douglas said and nodded at Paul.
“The honour is mine I am sure,” Paul replied and stood up straight. “But my father has never mentioned you.”
“No, not surprising for we differed on many things…especially my affection for your mother.”
“You knew my mother too?” Paul asked, bemused.
“Oh yes. I make no apology when I tell you I prayed to our so-called Lord in Heaven to have her love me…as well as other times in my life but the ‘Almighty’ is either deaf, powerless or simply chose to ignore me. ’Tis why I questioned his existence for I was once an initiate of the mysteries you know of and others to come,” Master Douglas explained and moved to sit upon a bench that ran along the width of the room. “When I heard you were here I requested a meeting…for my own selfish reasons of interest.”
“I do not understand,” Paul replied and looked over at Master Roger.
“Master Douglas does indeed know many things. ’Tis why he is afforded the rank he holds but refuses to lead others,” he explained and proffered Paul a single chair opposite the table.
“I refuse to lead men for I was responsible for the death of my entire squadron…I do not ever wish to have that responsibility again,” Master Douglas explained plainly.