by D. N. Carter
“That is awful…truly dreadful,” Ayleth exclaimed with her hand to her mouth.
“Do we need to know all of this about Becket?” the farrier asked.
“Maybe not…but Thomas Becket does have some bearing upon what happened to Paul later in this tale,” the old man answered.
“In that case please continue. I cannot promise to remember all that you tell us, but I shall try,” the farrier acknowledged.
“Following Becket’s death, the monks prepared his body for burial and according to some accounts, it was discovered that he had worn a hair shirt under his archbishop’s garments, a sign of penance. Shortly afterwards, the faithful throughout Europe began venerating Becket as a martyr, and on the twenty-first of February 1173, little more than two years after his death, he was canonised by Pope Alexander the Third in St Peter’s Church in Segni. On the twelfth of July 1174, in the midst of the Revolt of 1173–1174, Henry humbled himself with public penance at Becket’s tomb as well as at the church of St Dunstan’s, which became one of the most popular pilgrimage sites in England. In 1173, Becket’s sister Mary was appointed as Abbess of Barking Abbey as reparation for the murder of her brother.”
9 – 14
“What happened to the four knights who murdered him?” Gabirol asked.
“Becket’s assassins fled north to Knaresborough Castle, which was held by Hugh de Morville, where they remained for about a year. De Morville held property in Cumbria and this provided a convenient bolt-hole, as the men prepared for a longer stay in the separate kingdom of Scotland. They were not arrested and neither did Henry confiscate their lands, but he failed to help them when they sought his advice in August 1171. Pope Alexander excommunicated all four. Seeking forgiveness, the assassins travelled to Rome and were ordered by the Pope to serve as knights in the Holy Lands for a period of fourteen years. This also inspired the Knights of Saint Thomas, incorporated just this year at Acre, and which are to be modelled on the Teutonic Knights. It is the only military order native to England with chapters in not only Acre, but London, Kilkenny and Nicosia, like the Gilbertine Order being the only monastic order native to England as well,” the old man explained further then paused. “Trust me, the case of Thomas Becket led to consequences in Outremer caused by Gerard de Ridefort and Guy.”
“But King Guy we know much about. Though not how he managed to become king I must confess, other than what you have explained earlier,” the Hospitaller commented.
“Then let me explain that in early 1182, as Baldwin the Fourth’s health declined rapidly, he named Guy regent. However, Guy and Reynald of Châtillon made provocations against Saladin during a two-year period of truce. But it was his military hesitance at the siege of Crac de Moab in Kerak which disillusioned the king with him. Throughout late 1183 and 1184 Baldwin the Fourth tried to have his sister’s marriage to Guy annulled, showing that Baldwin still held his sister in some favour. Baldwin the Fourth had wanted a loyal brother-in-law, and was frustrated by Guy’s disobedience. Sibylla was in Ascalon with her husband. Unsuccessful in prying his sister and close heir away from Guy, the king and the Haute Cour altered the succession, placing Baldwin the Fifth, Sibylla’s son from her first marriage, in precedence over Sibylla, and decreeing a process to choose the monarch afterwards between Sibylla and Isabella, whom Baldwin and the Haute Cour thus recognised as at least equally entitled to succession as Sibylla, though she was not herself excluded from the succession. Guy kept a low profile from 1183 until his wife became queen in 1186. When Baldwin the Fourth finally succumbed to his leprosy in 1185, Baldwin the Fifth became king, but he was a sickly child and died within a year. Guy immediately went with Sibylla to Jerusalem for his stepson’s funeral in 1186, along with an armed escort, with which he garrisoned the city. Raymond the Third, who wanted to protect his own influence and his new political ally, the dowager Queen Maria Comnena, was making arrangements to summon the Haute Cour when Sibylla was crowned queen by Patriarch Eraclius, or Heraclius as some call him. Reynald of Châtillon gained popular support for Sibylla by affirming that she was ‘li plus apareissanz et plus dreis heis dou rouame’ meaning ‘the most evident and rightful heir of the kingdom’. With the clear support of the Church Sibylla was undisputed sovereign. However, before she was crowned she agreed with oppositional court members that she would annul her marriage with Guy to please them, as long as she would be given free choice in her next husband. The leaders of the Haute Cour agreed, and Sibylla was crowned thereafter as Queen. Taking her choice of husband, to the astonishment of the rival court faction, she remarried Guy, who became King in August 1186. The Queen removed the crown from her head and handed it to Guy, permitting him to crown himself, at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem, in September 1186,” the old man detailed and looked up as Simon yawned.
“What a scheming little…,” the Genoese sailor started to say but could not find an appropriate word so shook his head in frustration.
“Shit!” Sarah said and they all laughed.
“It may seem that way but Sibylla’s half-sister Isabella and her husband Humphrey the Fourth of Toron were Raymond the Third’s and the Ibelins’ choice for the throne. As Sibylla’s parents marriage had been annulled and both she and Baldwin had been legitimised by the Church, Isabella was seen by many as the legal heiress. However, Humphrey would not assert his wife’s claim, and he disassociated himself from them, swearing fealty instead to Sibylla. Humphrey would in time become one of Guy’s closest allies in the kingdom.”[23]
“We are all so much left in the dark about such matters. All we ever get told is that such and such died, long live the King and his wife marries someone else…,” Peter commented as he looked at an empty plate.
“Believe me when I say all that I tell you is connected and has meaning…no matter how insignificant or boring it may appear,” the old man replied.
“I am not bored rest most assuredly upon that…though I cannot admit to fully understanding all that you tell. But please, if you will, having now explained thus far, can you continue?” Peter asked.
“I shall indeed. Now where were we in regard to Paul? Oh yes, crossing Cilicia.”
High mountain pass near Gumuskavak, Cilician Armenia (Turkey), 1179
The caravan rocked very slightly as the wind blew against it. Paul sat beside Alisha as she cradled Arri. Taqi was busy stitching some words upon the horse Theodoric had made earlier. Sister Lucy sat beside Theodoric with her head rested upon his shoulder. The two lanthorns cast a warm glow inside.
“Do you think I should be with Adrastos?” Paul asked quietly.
“No, he is under cover…with Tenno. They will be fine,” Theodoric answered and took a sip of some mead beer.
All looked up as rain began to fall harder upon the caravan except Taqi who was concentrating upon his stitching.
“Why does Tenno remain outside…in this weather?” Taqi asked as he pulled up the stitching needle.
“He has much on his mind and prefers time alone to contemplate,” Theodoric replied as he placed his arm around Sister Lucy.
“Will this storm last long?” Alisha asked softly as Arri pushed his little hand upwards and yawned.
“There is no telling. It has been raging along the coast for many days already. So it was indeed a good decision not to go by ship…I fear we shall in time hear of many ships floundering as is the way,” Theodoric explained as a gust blew the caravan harder.
“Well I hate ships so I am more than happy,” Taqi commented and smiled. He then offered the little horse to Alisha. “There you go…finished.”
“Thank you,” Alisha replied and took the little horse and read the Arabic stitching. “Clip clop! What does that mean?” she asked, laughing.
“Clip clop…you know, like the noise a horse makes. It’s his name. I have named him,” Taqi answered, proud of his work.
Theodoric smiled and shook his head just as the door opened quickly to reveal Brother Matthew holding it open as Princess Stephanie hurried
ly climbed the small steps holding a waterproof heavy leather cape above her head. Quickly she stepped inside as Brother Matthew closed the door again, it slamming hard as the wind caught it. Alisha looked at Arri as he momentarily stirred but did not wake.
“I am so sorry. Have I woken him?” Stephanie asked as she lowered the cape and moved to sit next to Sister Lucy. Alisha shook her head no. “I was so terribly bored with no one to talk with. I saw you were still up so I hope you do not mind?”
“Of course not. It will be a long night with this storm…so Theodoric tells us,” Paul answered as Alisha looked at him briefly.
“I think it shall. But at least we shall not suffer as badly as those who have taken the coastal route,” Stephanie remarked as she made herself comfortable. She looked at Alisha and noted how she was looking at her, almost with suspicion. She smiled trying to reassure her.
“Just outlaws and robbers to contend with this way,” Taqi joked.
“No…they would not dare attempt it with both Hospitallers and Templars escorting us,” Stephanie replied. “But one can never take it for granted they won’t!”
“Why does Brother Matthew protest so much when you keep company with us?” Theodoric suddenly asked bluntly.
“Does he? I had not noticed,” Stephanie answered, bemused, and frowned.
“He does…very much so,” Theodoric stated.
“Perhaps my husband, Reynald, has instructed him to be so. He wishes me to be with child soonest…and he seems to fear any man that approaches me.”
“But you already have children…and he expects you to have more? Seriously, you are what now…at least thirty-three years?” Theodoric remarked.
“Theo…you should not say such things to a woman, especially one such as Stephanie,” Sister Lucy interjected and hit Theodoric’s arm.
“Why, because she is a princess? I think Stephanie knows me only too well not to stand upon ceremony here,” Theodoric responded as he nodded at Princess Stephanie.
“Totally agree with you, Theo. I would not impose myself upon you here if I did not think I was amongst friends,” Stephanie replied and looked at Alisha briefly. “And yes, I am thirty-three, still of a child baring age. Besides, Reynald wishes to protect his position and secure his family line.”
“And you are happy with that…and him?” Alisha asked bluntly.
“Alisha, I know you have already met my husband, not in the best of circumstances I understand, but please believe me when I say he is not as bad as many claim he is. I hope you will allow me to introduce you again, in better circumstances at court?” Stephanie commented softly. “Besides, I fear I may already be with child…so it is providential that Sister Lucy is again by my side. I think the Lord contrives it to be so.”
Sister Lucy looked at Princess Stephanie, puzzled, as she patted her tummy. Alisha sighed, partly with relief as her fears that Princess Stephanie had desires for Paul were instantly squashed upon hearing this. As she smiled, Princess Stephanie smiled back and looked at Arri and mouthed silently ‘May I?’. Alisha lifted Arri higher turned him carefully and handed him to Paul. Immediately Paul leaned across the small table and delicately handed Arri to Princess Stephanie. As she took Arri wrapped in his swaddling, she noted the embroidered work upon the corner, her hands touching Paul’s as she took him. She looked into Paul’s eyes and stared at him momentarily. Paul quickly moved away back to Alisha as Princess Stephanie held Arri and looked at him adoringly.
“I think I shall go and check upon Tenno,” Paul exclaimed and moved for the little door.
“Me too,” Taqi said as he also stood to pass behind Alisha.
“Well that’s just great…now I must go also. Cannot be doing with all this baby talk with you fine women,” Theodoric exclaimed as he slowly stood up and quickly followed Paul and Taqi as they left the caravan. Sister Lucy laughed.
No sooner had Theodoric closed the door shut, when Princess Stephanie looked up at Alisha.
“You are truly blessed,” she remarked with a smile that surprised Alisha in its warmth and genuine gentleness.
Inside, Alisha could not shake off the feeling that Princess Stephanie was somehow a threat to her, whether relating to Arri or Paul, and she could not quite put her finger on it. She trusted her instincts, yet she felt confused as she looked at the clearly beautiful woman sat opposite her. She moved her hand to check she still had her dagger tucked away close. Silly, she told herself and maybe it was the connection to Reynald that made her feel unsettled. The way she looked at Paul also made her feel slightly uncomfortable, but again she tried to remind herself of the many discussions she had previously with Raja about men and women. She would need to accept and come to terms with the fact that Paul was handsome, tall and smart. She shrugged her shoulders as she dismissed the notion that she was actually jealous of Princess Stephanie and felt threatened that she may be interested in Paul. She shook her head when she realised Sister Lucy was looking at her puzzled.
“I am sorry. I am tired and I was just day dreaming. Forgive my manners. Please, tell me, how old are your children?” she asked Princess Stephanie, composing herself and sitting up straight.
“Me…I have two. A boy and a girl. Humphrey will be thirteen this year and Isabella will be fifteen almost. My Lord how they grow so quickly,” she answered. “That will be my next most urgent task,” she then sighed heavily as she studied Arri as he slept.
“What task?” Sister Lucy asked.
“To find a suitable husband for Isabella…which, my dear girl, is no easy feat in these times and places…that is why I say you are blessed,” Stephanie answered as she looked up at Alisha then to Sister Lucy. “And I have so missed your wise counsel and friendship these past years,” she said with a sadness in her voice and revealed in her eyes as she looked at her intently.
Sister Lucy said nothing but feigned a smile and placed her hand upon Princess Stephanie’s forearm.
Paul ran towards the thin tree line as the rain seemed to drive into him sideways and the wind blew even harder in the dark. He could just make out the shape of Tenno sitting cross legged beneath a strung tarpaulin cover between four trees next to Adrastos. Taqi and Theodoric ran to a larger cover where several Templars stood next to a fire talking quietly trying to stay warm. The whole area lit up as a flash of lightning arched across the almost ink black night sky turning it to day momentarily. Paul jumped as the deafening loud bang echoed out but Tenno did not move. Even when Paul ran up close and stopped just behind him, Tenno remained perfectly still, his eyes shut as if asleep, but he was reciting a prayer of sorts in his native Japanese.
“… ……… ··· [Enlighten what is dark within me…strengthen what is weak within me…mend what’s broken in me…bind what’s bruised in me…heal what’s sick within me…and lastly],” he paused for what seemed an age as two more flashes of lightening lit the far horizon mountain tops, [Revive whatever peace and love has died in me!],” he sighed and only then lowered his head.
Paul froze feeling that he had intruded upon a very personal moment. Slowly he started to back away when Tenno slowly turned to look at him.
“Sorry Tenno…I,” Paul began to explain.
“Paul…I knew ’twas you. If I did not, your head would now be resting at my feet. Please…come and sit,” Tenno stated bluntly, proffering his hand to sit beside him upon the thick straw mat as his other hand pushed his main sword back into its sheath.
Adrastos neighed briefly and snorted as if to get Paul’s attention. Paul slowly moved nearer and quickly patted Adrastos before sitting down next to Tenno. With each flash of lightning Paul was able to see the steep drop off just over the lip of the track and the vast open valley beyond. It was raining hard with water flowing off the sides in cascades where Tenno had set the retaining ropes to funnel it away from his position. They sat in silence for several minutes, the smell of the rain filling their nostrils and the air surprisingly warm.
“I did not mean to disturb you…just check upon
you. You know, that you are okay and everything,” Paul said, feeling a little awkward. Again Tenno just sat in silence as the rain continued to fall before he spoke again.
“Paul…I miss your father believe it or not. I know our meeting was brief but what time we did spend together, I learnt more from him than I believe any other in my life so far. And I made him a sacred vow…,” Tenno explained as he just stared ahead.
“My father tends to have that effect upon people I am afraid. He made me aware of the vow you made to him…but I do not hold you to that,” Paul replied.
“’Tis not for you to say that. The vow I made was with your father and to myself,” Tenno bluntly stated, which surprised Paul, not sure how to take his comment. “Do not worry yourself, young Paul…you have not offended me. You are still so very young and I envy you your youth. I too do not wish to insult or offend you either…so if at times I come across as abrupt, emotionless or worse…please understand that I never mean to. It is just my way.”
“Thank you, Tenno. I shall always try and remember that. Perhaps we should tell Theodoric that also.”
“Oh no…I mean to be abrupt and rude when I talk to him,” Tenno remarked, straight faced and deadpan still. But Paul saw a very slight smirk break across his face. “Do not let on that this pleases me,” Tenno winked and cracked a smile briefly but hardly visible in the darkness.