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Broken Together

Page 7

by K. S. Ruff


  My heart beat against his chest. “What does this mean for you… for us?”

  Rafael sighed. “My life is not entirely my own. I have certain obligations, and those obligations will obligate you.”

  “What does that mean?” I was thoroughly confused.

  “The grand master granted my request to live and work in the United States so I could be closer to you, but there were some conditions.” He willed me to understand.

  “Conditions? What conditions?”

  He loosened his hold on me, infinitesimally. “I’ve been asked to strengthen the faction in the United States, which is too small given your land mass and your population base. I still accept assignments from Portugal, and he retains the right to order me back to Portugal at any time.”

  “What about the security firm?” My eyes widened. Rafael’s security firm protected foreign dignitaries. “Are they all…”

  He nodded. “Ethan and I recruited those men to strengthen the eastern division of the Knights Templar in the United States. Ethan is my counterpart in the United States.”

  My breath whooshed out all at once. “This is unbelievable.” I’d been surrounded by Knights Templar for months and had never even known. Ethan, Brady, Brogan, Aidan, Chance, and Jase… every single one of those men had been inside my home.

  “I’m still the same man you fell in love with,” Rafael repeated.

  “Who’s the grand master?” For some reason it seemed important to know who it was that essentially owned Rafael.

  “Each faction has its own grand master. My grand master is Anabal Cavaco Silva, the President of Portugal. I’m also required to answer to the grand master of the United States while working in the United States.”

  My knees nearly buckled. Rafael worked for the President of Portugal? And who, pray tell, was the grand master of the United States?

  He pulled me back onto the couch. “This doesn’t change anything.”

  I stared at him incredulously. “This changes everything.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” he argued forcefully. “We can still be married and have a family.”

  I shook my head. “Your life is not your own. You could be ordered to leave the United States… to return to Portugal.”

  His shoulders tensed. “I could. But as my wife, you would be welcome here. The Knights Templar of Portugal would welcome you with open arms.”

  “Is it safe?” Eva inquired from inside the doorway.

  “It is,” Rafael answered, although his voice remained strained.

  She set the bowl on the table. “Benjamim!”

  He stepped out onto the patio. “Is she okay?”

  My eyes narrowed. “How does he fit into all of this?”

  A single eyebrow rose along Rafael’s forehead.

  I huffed out a breath. “This revelation of yours wouldn’t have been important to him unless he was somehow involved.”

  Rafael smiled. “Sometimes I forget how brilliant you are.”

  “I’m not a knight,” Benjamim clarified, “but I work for the Order. I am one of many inductees who manage assets.” He set a stack of bowls and a handful of spoons on the table. “As such, I was required to swear an oath of fealty to the Order.”

  Eva perched on the edge of her seat while dishing an orange colored stew into the bowls. “It’s not as bad as you might think.”

  “What isn’t bad?” I wasn’t sure whether she was referring to the savory smelling stew or being inducted into a secret organization.

  “Being married to one of them.” She distributed the bowls.

  I dipped my bread into the warm stew. The rich, creamy sauce tasted like onion, garlic, white wine, and salty fish stock. Colossal size shrimp and white chunks of fish dominated the rice. “Is this why you brought me here?” I looked at Rafael.

  He nodded, somewhat miserably. “I would have told you sooner, but I was forbidden. We are not allowed to reveal our identity to just anyone. The women we choose to marry must be approved by the grand master, and we cannot reveal our identity until she’s agreed to marry us.”

  “The woman must be deemed worthy, demonstrate selflessness and a willingness to serve others, and she must show loyalty by making a commitment to her betrothed,” Benjamim elaborated. “We cannot expose our identity in advance of that commitment because we cannot risk women pursuing a relationship with our brethren in an effort to infiltrate or destroy the Order.”

  Brethren? Betrothed? I couldn’t shake the feeling I’d been dropped into the 12th century.

  “We were persecuted once,” Rafael reminded me. “The secrecy and the uncertainty surrounding our existence help keep us safe. We can work more effectively this way.”

  My stomach churned nervously. “So the grand master, the President of Portugal, has to approve of me?”

  “He already has.”

  “Impossible,” I breathed.

  Rafael shrugged. “Maxim did not present the obstacle I thought he would. Inexplicably, the man passes scrutiny.”

  My eyes narrowed. “Maxim is selfless to a fault. He’s devoted his entire life to helping the poor and the oppressed.”

  “As have you,” Rafael noted softly.

  Like a deer in headlights, I stilled.

  He grasped my hand. “Think about it, Kristine. The advocacy work you did in Montana, the legislation you pursued in the Senate, and the peacebuilding you’re doing through Seeds for Peace. You couldn’t be a more perfect candidate.”

  “Candidate?”

  “For marriage,” Rafael clarified.

  “She doesn’t understand,” Benjamim interjected. “You are not doing a very good job of explaining this.”

  “Neither did you,” Eva chided. “This is not an easy thing to explain or comprehend.”

  It was Rafael’s turn to blow out a breath. “This is why I hadn’t considered the religious requirements you mentioned on the airplane. I was focused entirely on these requirements, the requirements imposed by the Knights Templar.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “The grand master has approved my petition to marry you, but you will be required to swear an oath to the Order before I’m permitted to marry you.”

  Rafael, Eva, and Benjamim eyed me expectantly.

  I fidgeted nervously. “I think I can do that.” I wasn’t entirely sure what I was getting myself into, but if I was swearing an oath to a long standing security organization with a charitable component based on Christian principles, how bad could it be? I turned the idea in my head. “There’s a catch, isn’t there?”

  This marked the moment when Rafael looked truly worried. “You must swear this oath to the same faction I serve, otherwise I will not be permitted to marry you.”

  I stared at him incredulously. “Are you asking me to swear loyalty to a foreign government… to relinquish my citizenship… my nationality?” The grand master was the President of Portugal. How could I declare my allegiance to the President of Portugal?

  “You’ll be granted dual citizenship,” Eva interjected. “Like me.”

  “You’ll be swearing loyalty to the Templar, not the government, and you won’t be forced to choose between Portugal and the United States,” Benjamim added.

  “But if the President of the United States does something the President of Portugal disagrees with, then what? Will I be forced to choose?” I was assuming, of course, that the President of the United States was the grand master of the United States.

  “No, Kristine. They would work out their differences. There are mechanisms in place. All of the grand masters would come together to ensure the situation was resolved in a way that is in the best interest of all humanity,” Rafael answered confidently.

  There was a long list of American foreign policies that had received international condemnation as of late, so I persisted. “But what if he does. What then?”

  “That has never happened,” Benjamim argued. “The Templar do not allow politics to poison their mission, which is protecting and helping people in need.
Very few disagreements ensue over those objectives.”

  A fire sparked in Rafael’s eyes. Clearly, he’d had enough. “On the off chance that it does, you would be required to side with the Knights Templar of Portugal, to renounce your American citizenship, and reside permanently in Portugal with me.”

  And there it was. The big, terrible, awful thing he didn’t want to tell me.

  Chapter 3 – Stand by You

  I stared at the landscape unraveling outside the Porsche. I couldn’t imagine how opulent castles could exist less than twenty minutes away when all I could see were clotheslines weighted with tattered clothes and crumbling buildings marked with graffiti. We were driving to Sintra in search of a distraction from Rafael’s obligations and mine.

  Rafael, Benjamim, and Eva had spent the entire evening easing my fears about whether the Knights Templar of Portugal would require me to renounce my citizenship to the United States. I felt assured, in the end, that this would only happen if the United States engaged in genocide, committed mass atrocities against humanity, or persecuted the knights. I had enough faith in my government to conclude that those egregious crimes would never be pursued by my country.

  So where did that leave me? Silently contemplating my oath. I was required to swear an oath to the grand master or his designee within the next thirty days. Apparently, I’d be doing so before leaving Portugal.

  As surreal as it was to learn that Rafael was a modern day knight, I’d learned something beyond this chivalrous designation. Rafael had an ego. He was a proud man who’d apparently had his fill of my insecurities, my waffling, and divided loyalties. Now that we were engaged, he expected me to put him first, to love and cherish him above all others, and to choose him above all things… even my country. It was a tall order from someone who couldn’t deliver on the same requirements, given his fealty to the Knights Templar.

  I peered out the window. The dilapidated buildings had been replaced by a handful of houses atop lush green hills. A cloud opened above us, misting more than raining on our parade.

  I looked at Rafael, who appeared lost in his own thoughts. I admired his selflessness and his commitment to aid and protect others. Any other woman would have been swooning over the fact that he was a knight. The Knights Templar’s mission was very much in line with my social and religious values. So, why did I view them as a threat?

  One thing was certain. I now knew how Alice felt when she fell into that rabbit hole. Women who slept battered on bathroom floors didn’t marry knights or visit castles. Maybe that was the problem. My life had grown unrecognizable once again.

  “We’re here,” Rafael announced softly. We’d entered a quaint, hilly little town. The tourists who weren’t climbing on and off buses were bartering with merchants who had jewelry and artwork on display along the cobblestone street.

  I stared slack-jawed at an ominous castle while Rafael secured a parking spot. I couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to live in such a sinister looking building.

  Rafael peered up at the castle while helping me from the car. “Quinta da Regaleira,” he revealed in a reverent tone. He opened an umbrella and tucked me beneath his arm.

  I studied the gothic structure while he paid for our tickets. The castle was a fascinating conglomeration of spindly pinnacles, elaborately carved windows and terraces, an octagon shaped tower, and menacing gargoyles.

  We crossed through a large wooden gate and were instantly transported into an exquisite garden. There were hundreds, if not thousands, of flowering trees, bushes, and plants surrounding us. Calla lilies sprouted straight from the ground.

  The dirt trail we were on branched out in multiple directions, creating switchbacks along the terraced garden above and below us. The trail extended as far as the eye could see. “It’s breathtaking.”

  The tension eased from Rafael’s shoulders. The first genuine smile I’d seen in hours lit his face.

  I turned a slow circle, trying to absorb the unspeakable beauty surrounding me. From this angle, the castle didn’t appear ominous; it appeared inviting. The exterior looked whiter and brighter somehow. The back of the castle faced an ornately carved chapel. I couldn’t resist touching the cool, wet stone before we stepped inside. I wondered how something so beautiful could withstand the test of time.

  Angels, saints, and other religious figures were carved directly into the walls. Quietly, I pondered the scriptures reflected in the frescoes. “What’s that?” I pointed to a large circular emblem on the floor. The contemporary design seemed sorely out of place in the ancient chapel. An armillary sphere lie at the center of the emblem. The sphere was surrounded by pentagons, which was unusual but not nearly as odd as the large squat cross that had been stamped over the top. A thick red line framed the thin white cross before flaring at each end.

  Rafael leaned his head closer to mine. “That, my love, is the Order of Christ Cross.”

  “Order of Christ,” I murmured. Where had I heard that term before? My eyes widened. “The Knights Templar reorganized as the Order of Christ when they were being persecuted.”

  Rafael nodded. “Under King Dinis I.”

  “What does this mean?” I nodded toward the cross.

  “The Knights Templar have sworn to protect this site.” Rafael walked outside.

  I stared at the cross for some time before joining Rafael outside. “How many buildings, artifacts, and people have your knights sworn to protect?”

  Rafael shrugged. “More than I could possibly count.”

  We spent hours exploring the grottos, gazebos, fountains, and ornately carved benches scattered throughout the extensive grounds. We hiked down a winding staircase inside an initiation well that displayed another Order of Christ Cross. This squat white cross included a red circle in the center and red triangle shaped tips, sort of like a compass.

  Rafael stood staring at the cross. “The Knights Templar met at Regaleira Palace. They held ceremonies in the chapel, along the lake, and inside this well. The initiation wells, grottos, tower, lake, chapel, and caves are connected by tunnels.” He pointed to a dark cavern that was roped off.

  We climbed the stairs so we could finish exploring the palace grounds. The lakes and gardens were well kept but still felt natural and wild. There was so much mystery and intrigue surrounding the place, I didn’t want to leave.

  The sun didn’t come out until after we returned to the car. “I thought we’d eat lunch at Pena Palace.” Rafael eased out of the parking lot. We wound through the town and looped around a mountain before another palace peeked through the clouds.

  This palace was massive and bold. A weathered stone foundation loomed high above the ground just beyond the drawbridge. Above this foundation, one section of the castle was painted yellow, another section a deep coral color, and the center appeared blue from this distance. Scalloped windows and balconies wrapped around the castle beneath an elegant clock tower. There were multiple towers; some were square, others were round with mosque like domes.

  “I feel like I’ve been dropped into another century.” We hiked up the gravel path. The trail was very steep. At one point, I had to stop and catch my breath. Clouds formed wispy tendrils that wound around the massive rocks, lush ferns, and exotic trees.

  “Are you hungry?” Rafael seemed invigorated and not at all winded.

  “Starving.” A competitive streak forced me to look a little less fatigued

  “We’re almost there.” He grasped my hand and shortened his stride.

  We crossed under a tall Moorish arch covered with four inch tiles. Each of the tiles depicted a knight. I peered up at the palace. I could picture women in opulent dresses strolling along the balconies, subtly flirting with knights. The arch emptied into a courtyard that held an ornate stone cross, multiple coats of arms, and gargoyles beneath prickly looking guard towers. “What is this place?”

  Rafael chuckled. “Pena Palace has been a lot of things throughout the centuries; a monastery, a convent, and a palace. You’ll find both Chr
istian and Islamic culture reflected in this palace.”

  “That explains why the architecture is so eclectic.” I reached for my cell phone, then shoved it back inside my purse. I knew if I started taking pictures now, we’d never eat.

  Rafael led me inside the gift shop where we took an elevator to the second floor. The elevator opened into a modern, cafeteria-style restaurant. I ordered the duck quiche with field greens. Rafael ordered Linguas de Bacalhau, fried cod cakes with Portuguese rice.

  We carried our trays to a table next to a small window. “The architecture in my country must seem very boring to you.” I was referring to our dull concrete sidewalks, asphalt streets, and unimaginative office buildings.

  “Not at all.” Rafael cut into his cod and offered me a bite. “There are a lot of beautiful buildings in DC. Besides, your country has a lot of natural beauty, which I find far more impressive than these eccentric palaces.”

  Slowly, I nodded. I hadn’t stopped to consider the Grand Canyon, the Grand Tetons, the Redwood Forest, the Na Pali Coastline, Yosemite, Yellowstone, or Glacier Park.

  He eyed me curiously. “How are you feeling about our conversation last night?”

  “Concerned,” I answered honestly. I offered him a forkful of quiche.

  He tried the quiche. “What are you concerned about?”

  Although there wasn’t anyone sitting close enough to overhear our conversation, I thought it best to remain vague. “I’m not sure I understand to what extent your involvement with this organization obligates you. I mean, is it like being in the military, or do you have more control over your life than service members do?”

  Rafael looked thoughtful. “Being inducted is not all that different than receiving a meritorious service medal. I was awarded this honor for outstanding service to my country. My induction into the Order merely requires me to live up to that honor. It’s not as demanding or as consuming as you might think. I vowed to protect and help those in need. In order to maintain my status, I need to deliver on those promises. Occasionally, the grand master requests my assistance in protecting our diplomats or in achieving national security objectives. I can marry, have children, and pursue my own career goals as long as they don’t conflict with the goals and objectives of the Order.”

 

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