Deus Militis - Soldiers of God

by Jonathan A Longmore

  Henry Challock who had been de Capo’s lieutenant stepped forward, ‘Aye, I can confirm he spoke to one of their commanders alone.’

  ‘And,’ asked Gaubert, ‘do you know what they spoke about?’

  Henry shook his head, ‘I do not.’

  Gaubert looked at Leopold, ‘His bodyguard were not just Saracens, they were warriors under the command of the man he spoke to in private, a man he gave secrets to about our strength, and our weaknesses. He believes God is false and his servants corrupt,’ Gaubert turned and pointed at Erasmus, ‘and this man, this priest, this defiler of our faith assisted him!’

  Erasmus was horrified and screamed, ‘It’s not true!’

  ‘Silence!’ Gaubert ordered, ‘Your fate is in the hands of the inquisitor.’ He turned back to Leopold, ‘Stand aside, I will not ask again!’

  Leopold glared at Henry, ‘You say he spoke to the enemy in private?’

  ‘He had the Saracens with him,’ replied Henry, ‘and you were there when he let them go after the fighting.’

  Leopold turned to Gaubert, ‘There is something not right here Gaubert, but killing each other will serve no purpose…..my men will stand aside.’

  ~

  Erasmus looked about the room nervously as the door closed behind him. Dawn was breaking slowly and the only light came from candles flickering in a small draught causing the shadows to move like spectres. He was scared and confused having spent the entire journey trying to understand what was happening. All attempts to speak to Gaubert had failed and the look on his face suggested he would as soon kill him there and then. Now, instead of being thrown into a dungeon in chains he was in a room that was clearly not a place for holding a man accused of blasphemy and sedition. He took a sharp breath as he made out the figure of a man sitting in a chair and stared wide eyed as he tried to make out who it was, ‘Who is there?’

  The figure shifted in the chair and finally stood, walking into the low glow of a candle that illuminated enough of his face to make Erasmus move closer and ask sceptically, ‘Sir Ralf?’

  De Capo turned and lifted a candle off the desk and moved towards Erasmus, ‘Aye, it’s me, and I apologise for the secrecy.’

  ‘Secrecy!’ Erasmus spluttered angrily, ‘I’ve been accused of blasphemy and sedition!’ He looked at the door expecting men to rush through and drag him out again, ‘What…what in the name of God is going on?’

  ‘Sit down,’ said de Capo indicating to the chair he had just vacated, ‘it was necessary you believed the allegations had been made, if you believed it, anyone seeing you would believe it as well.’

  ‘So they are not true?’

  ‘Of course not, but we couldn’t tell you because it needed to look authentic.’

  Erasmus was bewildered, ‘We? Authentic? I don’t understand.’

  ‘Read this,’ de Capo handed him the orders Leopold had been given.

  Erasmus gingerly took the parchment and held it close to the candle as he read slowly, ‘Oh dear God,’ he muttered, ‘Oh dear God, they know!’

  ‘Now,’ said de Capo, ‘do you understand why we had to get you out of that place quickly?’

  Erasmus stared at the document again, ‘But this is addressed to Leopold. How did you get it?’

  ‘He gave it to me.’

  Erasmus looked into the shadows while still holding the orders, ‘Sir Ralf, I am not a stupid man, but if Leopold gave this to you…..why am I still alive? Why are you still alive?’ De Capo remained silent and Erasmus looked up at him expectantly and his expression changed as he realised, ‘Leopold was a party to this?’

  ‘He was not aware you would be arrested, but we have an agreement….we will leave with the scroll.’

  ‘But if the Grand Master thinks he is involved, then he is a dead man!’ Erasmus stood and thrust the orders back towards de Capo, ‘There is no escaping him Sir Ralf, none, his messenger Finus is here and they will piece it all together!’ Erasmus flopped back into the chair and grasped his crucifix nervously, shaking his head as he muttered a silent prayer to himself.

  The sun was rising and light started to permeate into the room, ‘Finus will not be a problem, Leopold will deal with him,’ de Capo explained, ‘and by the end of this day Leopold will be in command of his own men. This will be ratified by the Pope and we will be on a boat bound for England.’

  ‘So tell me,’ Erasmus was unconvinced, ‘why would Leopold, who I must say is a cruel and vicious beast, a man who has committed more sins than those who crucified our Lord, why would he help you or even me?’

  ‘It’s very simple,’ de Capo smiled, ‘he wants command, and I want to go to England. I pledged you my protection because of that scroll, and you are coming with me.’

  Erasmus seemed unimpressed, ‘And that’s it?’

  ‘A man’s true desires are normally best kept secret from his masters, Erasmus. You should know that better than most.’

  Erasmus sat with a baffled expression as de Capo opened the door to the room, ‘We’re ready.’

  Gaubert Levesque entered the room carrying two black cloaks and two leather bags, bulky with their contents. Erasmus stood and looked at Gaubert with a little trepidation, ‘Don’t worry Father,’ said Gaubert with a grin, ‘I have never doubted your commitment to God.’

  ‘How many others know about this?’

  ‘Only the Constable,’ said de Capo, ‘without him and the trust he has in Gaubert this would never happen and we would both be dead, I suspect yours might be more prolonged than mine.’

  Erasmus held his crucifix and nodded, ‘I should have trusted more in Gods protection.’

  Gaubert looked at him and nodded before handing the cloaks and bags to de Capo, ‘Did you bring my surcoat?’

  Gaubert nodded, ‘We must leave now.’

  ~

  Finus sat patiently and watched while Leopold scrawled his words slowly and carefully. Once he was satisfied with what he had written he waited until the ink was dry before rolling the parchment and dripping hot wax on the silk ribbon. He sealed it with the stamp of the Imperial Order of Jerusalem’s Commander in Acre, placed it into a leather tube and again sealed the top with wax and the stamp. Leopold looked at Finus, ‘How long will it take you to get back?’

  ‘If I get a fast boat today, the Grand Master will have this in three days.’

  Leopold nodded, ‘Good, I will send a man to escort you to the docks.’

  Finus stood as Leopold handed him the leather bound message, ‘That will not be necessary.’

  Leopold gripped the leather tube hard and stared at Finus, ‘After today’s events, I am saying it is necessary, you will not leave without my escort, is that clear?’

  Finus gave a small nod of the head as Leopold released the tube, ‘I understand.’

  Once Finus had left the room, Leopold closed his eyes and took deep breaths. There was no doubting his bravery nor his ruthlessness. That brutality and his own personal goal would allow him to finish what he started. He stood and strapped on his sword belt and walked out into the courtyard towards the infirmary.

  Chapter Thirty One

  The two men stood at the side of the boat, cloaks covering their clothing and hoods up to protect their faces from the curious and the numerous spies that littered the city. With their backs to the docks they were aware they were leaving never to return. The bags contained food, money and letters of credit for funds deposited with the Templars in Acre, funds that could be withdrawn in whole or part from any Templar Preceptory on production of the letters.

  Events had happened swiftly for Erasmus. All his personal belongings were left behind, but they meant nothing compared to the knowledge the scroll was safe. He was bound for England, in the company of a knight who he could, for the first time since he arrived in Acre, trust and believe in.

  Their exit from the castle of the Kings Constable had been secretive and swift and Gaubert had led them to a hidden doorway inside the fireplace within the Constables office. He was surpr
ised to see the stones at the back move on hinges far enough to allow a grown man to squeeze through to a narrow staircase that appeared to lead into the bowls of the earth.

  Gaubert gave de Capo final instructions and handed him a flaming torch that illuminated the near vertical staircase before him. As the secret doorway was closed behind them Erasmus groaned at the hot, fetid air that filled the hidden staircase. De Capo sensed his apprehension and placed a calming hand on his shoulder, ‘Just stay close, Father.’

  The stairs and the tunnel at the bottom were built by and for people who were considerably smaller than de Capo, and while Erasmus managed to walk almost upright, de Capo found it increasingly difficult as his body and legs started to ache with the unusual half hunched, half crouched position he was forced to adopt. The breathing of both men became harsh and raspy as the foul air, mixed with the dust they were creating entered their lungs and made them cough. The tunnel felt longer than it actually was and by the time they reached the end, both men were spitting the clogging filth from their mouths. De Capo raised the torch as best he could and saw the iron lever that would open the door. It took all his strength to pull it down and the combined strength of both of them to push open the stones which formed the door leading into the catacombs of the Cathedral of the Holy Cross. They both fell through the doorway and croaked as they tried to catch their breath. De Capo reached into his bag and pulled out a leather water skin and washed his mouth out before handing it to Erasmus who glugged heavily and started to choke.

  ‘Enough!’ De Capo snatched the skin from Erasmus and swung the torch about him until he saw the steps leading up to the Cathedral, ‘Come on,’ he said hoarsely.

  After pushing the hidden door closed they slowly ascended the steps to the door at the top. Reaching into his bag he pulled out a large iron key, inserted it into the lock and turned it. With a heavy clunk the door unlocked and he opened it slowly, expecting to find men staring at him. He was relieved to find the building, or the part that he could see was empty and they both entered closing the door behind them. A covered walkway with pillars to one side led to the doorway of the Cathedral and with hoods covering their faces they walked along it slowly until they reached the main door. Within seconds they entered the street outside the Cathedral and joined the early morning crowds, becoming invisible as they mingled and made their way slowly towards the docks.

  The Promise of Heaven was her name, inscribed on the side in Latin and Arabic. Her captain was a gruff Italian called Jacobus who employed a mixed crew of Arabs, Italians and Spaniards and an Englishman who served as his Bosun. De Capo’s instructions were to stand near the boat and wait for Jacobus to approach him. He was to be trusted according to the Constable, the man was in his debt for more than a mere boat trip for two people, Jacobus would not let him down. So it was that they stood on the boat and held on to the side as she started to move away from the docks.

  ‘We are moving,’ Erasmus said.

  ‘Aye,’ de Capo stared at the Horizon; he wouldn’t feel safe until his feet were back on English soil and he thought of Thomas who was still recovering, and his friend le Vicomt. He had written letters to both men and they would be delivered by the Constable once he and Erasmus were clear of Acre. Not the way he wanted to say goodbye to men he had fought and bled with, but circumstances changed daily in this world. He had also written letters to Hashim and Efrayim. He had made friends and enemies, friends from enemies and enemies from those who should have been friends, and he wondered what the future would bring.

  His thoughts were broken by Erasmus, ‘You said the Constable knew?’

  ‘He had to know,’ said de Capo, ‘I had no choice.’

  Erasmus turned to face him, ‘You told him about the scroll?’

  ‘No,’ de Capo lied, ‘how could I tell him about something even I don’t fully understand, I told him my life was still in danger but Leopold had helped save my life. You were in danger because you threatened to report their actions to the Pope and I had promised you my protection.’

  Erasmus shook his head, ‘I still don’t understand why Leopold helped you?’

  De Capo turned and watched as the boat moved further and further from Acre, ‘It doesn’t matter why anymore, we are free from their threats and once we are back in England I will help you take the scroll to your people.’

  ‘It will be winter when we get back,’ said Erasmus, ‘we will need somewhere to stay before travelling north.’

  ‘Aye,’ de Capo agreed, ‘that has already been arranged.’

  Chapter Thirty Two

  The Constable summoned Leopold and handed him the confirmation of his appointment. The Pope would ratify it because he needed funds to help with his increasingly massive debts, and to him funds were more important than the wishes of Martel de Fribois.

  The following day de Paganel and Finus were laid to rest in the crypt. De Paganel’s death was unexpected. He had been found by the surgeon with his own dagger thrust into his throat and his hands gripping the hilt. The surgeon agreed with Leopold that the blow to his head had sent him into madness and he had taken his own life.

  By strange coincidence Finus had been attacked by robbers and killed on route to the docks. The man who escorted him escaped with only minor injuries. Leopold handed the message that Finus watched him write, to one of his men and watched with a smile as he left the castle and made his way to the docks to board a boat for Cyprus.

  Three days later the Grand Master Martel de Fribois threw the message at de Chauvigny and glared angrily at the messenger. De Chauvigny picked it off the floor and his face dropped as he read it.

  ‘I want that castle searched, brick by brick,’ hissed de Fribois, ‘I want to know where that treacherous little bastard priest is,’ his voice went up several octaves as the messenger shrank away from the onslaught, ‘and I want de Capo’s head!’ He slammed his fists on the table and swept everything onto the floor, spilling wine, fruit and parchments as his temper took control of his emotions! He screamed at de Chauvigny, ‘You caused this! You let de Capo best you, banish you and take my men,’ he breathed hard and his eyes exuded hatred as he clenched his fists and tried to control the rage within him. ‘Now I have lost Finus! You had better pray something good comes of this Reynaud, otherwise I will rip out your eyes and make you eat them!’ With that he swept out of the room leaving the messenger staring wide-eyed at his back.

  Chauvigny stared at the message again, ‘They arrested Erasmus and de Capo?’

  ‘Aye my Lord,’ the messenger glanced about nervously, expecting de Fribois to return and take his head.

  ‘Before or after he received the orders?’

  ‘I cannot answer that my Lord, I only know de Capo went to the Constable to report the success against the bandits and never came back.’

  De Chauvigny walked around for several seconds as he re-read the message, he finally nodded to himself and turned to the messenger again, ‘You heard what the Grand Master said, I will write the orders and you will return today and give them to Leopold, we have to know what happened to them….this whole thing stinks of treachery, and I do not intend to eat my own eyes!’

  Chapter Thirty Three

  He crouched on the ground, a small boy at his side holding a beggars bowl. A few coins proved someone had been moved enough to share their good luck, and each time a coin was left for him he promised to pray to Allah for their compassion. Two Christian priests accompanied by two soldiers approached him and looked in his direction, he smiled and held out his hand, thanking them both for their generosity as they spat into his open palm and made the sign of the cross toward him before sneering as they walked away. He blessed them in Arabic and asked Allah to make sure their testicles grew to the size of their heads before bursting open. The small boy smiled at the insult and looked at the beggar who grinned back and offered him a date from a dirty rag he had secreted inside his grubby kaftan. The boy smiled and accepted the date. The beggar pulled another date from the rag
and placed it in his mouth, chewing slowly before spitting the stone out as they continued to beg passers-by for money.

  Messina was a port for all nationalities and faiths and although it was primarily Christian, it was generally tolerant of other faiths, including those of Islam. Being a Muslim beggar was no different to being a Christian beggar. Beggars came and went, but this one seemed to be there all the time. The only difference were the boys that stood beside him; occasionally they changed appearance but the influx of people moving in and out of the port was so great it was never noticed.

  The beggar saw everything and noted everything in his head. He had a gift of remembering details so insignificant most people didn’t even know the details existed. Messina was like a crossroads between the Christian world and the Muslim world; a few others were thrown into the mix, one of those being the Jews who traded everything and anything. It was a constant chain of boats arriving and leaving, and the sounds and smells of the docks were as ripe and diverse as those in the great trading city of Acre.

  People of all cultures came to Messina, knights, soldiers, merchants, priests, prostitutes and those in life who would go anywhere for the chance of a fortune, either earned or stolen. Those that returned from the Crusader states were the lucky ones. Those headed in the direction they came from looked at them with wonder and awe, they couldn’t understand why anyone would leave a paradise that made people rich. Many of them would never return, those who did were lucky. They were lucky if they survived the two days and nights in a boat with a host of other people and animals, eating rotting meat and drinking stale stinking water. Once they arrived and did not succumb to the thieves and murderers on and around the docks, survived in battle, died of one of the diseases that were rife in the crusader states, or simply get killed in some forgotten fight over money, women or food, in that order; they might live to return and laugh at the ones who followed.