Though they hadn’t truly given it up. They had been granted special dispensation to remain members of the Order, and remain on the farm. It was a difficult life, but life as a Templar was also difficult, though in different ways, in ways they all knew and loved.
Farm life was different, and he wasn’t yet convinced he could ever love it.
Tanya, the farm’s mastiff, charged into the barracks, barking happily, as the children he was now responsible for, chased her, giggling and laughing, as happy as he had ever seen them. Jacques and Angeline, his late sister’s children, were in the lead, their cheeks red, their hair filled with snowflakes, and Pierre, an orphan they had taken in after his parents’ murder, followed, gasping for breath, though clearly content.
They disappeared in short order.
“We need a door.”
The others chuckled at Simon’s observation as they all sat around the stone fireplace that, try as it might, could only take some of the chill out of the winter air, the structure still far too drafty.
Marcus regarded his friend. “Tomorrow we’ll put one on. The extension to the house is finished, and Lady Joanne is now settled with her chambermaid. We can now return our attention to our own accommodations.”
David, the eldest of the two squires, eyed him. “Did you say ‘our?’”
Marcus smiled. “Yes, I did. Now that we have two women living with us, the children don’t need me in the house, and I fear what the townsfolk might think should I be staying under the same roof as them.”
Simon grunted. “They wouldn’t dare say anything, if I have anything to say about it.”
Marcus laughed, slapping his friend on the back. “My honor is always secure with you around.” He stared through the open door and down at the house left him by his sister and brother-in-law, Henri. Henri was the connection he had with Lady Joanne de Rohan, a woman who had lost everything after accusations of adultery just weeks ago. Forced from her home, he had offered her a place to stay, an offer she had happily accepted.
He had to admit it was a relief.
Though he was anything but comfortable around women, he was even less so around children.
He knew nothing about either.
But Lady Joanne had taken to the children immediately, as had her trusted chambermaid, Beatrice, and their presence had mercifully reduced the attentions of the young Isabelle Leblanc, a friend of his late sister’s who had taken care of the children along with her mother, while they awaited his return from the Holy Land.
And Isabelle was a constant source of delight for his men, who teased him mercilessly about her apparent desire to take him for a husband.
She was a beautiful woman, even he wasn’t blind to that, but he was a warrior monk, sworn to poverty and celibacy, and as he remained a Templar, he was still bound by those vows.
Lady Joanne’s voice called out, announcing dinner, and the children bolted toward the house.
Somebody screamed.
They all leaped to their feet, rushing out the door, to see Pierre tumbling down the slope, then rolling to his knees, laughing as he brushed the snow off himself, Jacques standing with his fists on his hips, apparently having pushed him.
“What did I tell you about that?” cried Joanne, wagging a finger. “Someone is going to get hurt one of these days if you’re not careful!”
“Or killed.”
Marcus glanced at Simon and frowned, his friend’s face clouded over, his eyes glistening, his gaze unfocused, as if he were staring back at some distant memory. “Are you okay?”
Simon sighed then nodded. “Just remembering something.”
“What?”
Simon shook his head. “Nothing I care to talk about.” He stabbed a finger toward the children. “They just don’t listen. How many times has she told Jacques to stop shoving Pierre?”
David stared after the children as they raced inside the house. “I think he’s jealous. He’s just trying to establish his dominance over Pierre, so that he knows his place.” David shoved Jeremy, tripping him with a strategically placed foot. “Like Jeremy knows I’m his better.”
Jeremy stared up at him. “I hear there’s a witch in the woods. Maybe I’ll seek her out in the morning and make sure she puts a curse on you.”
David glanced around, his hands palms up, and shrugged. “What more can she do to me?”
Marcus frowned, David noticing, his jaw dropping with the realization of what he had said.
“I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t mean it like that, I was just joking around.”
Marcus nodded, but knew his squire was telling him only half the truth. None of them were truly happy. This was not the life they were used to. They were all Templars of varying ranks, all devoted to the brotherhood, and now, thanks to his decision, and their undying loyalty to him, he had condemned them all to a life toiling on a farm, raising children, and protecting the growing brood that now called the humble property home.
David’s head dropped. “I’ll go get us our dinner.” Jeremy scrambled after him, clearly not wanting to stick around for whatever might be said next. Marcus turned back toward the barracks and glanced over his shoulder at Simon, following a few paces behind.
“And what do you think?”
Simon’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Of what?”
“Of this new life.”
“I’ve told you that my place is at your side.”
“And if it weren’t?”
Simon looked away, as if ashamed of what he might say.
“Out with it, my friend. If I can’t trust you to tell me the truth, then whom can I?”
Simon sighed as they stepped through the open doorway. “I can’t say that I’d choose this life.”
“What would you choose?”
Simon sat on the edge of his bed, the private rooms Marcus had promised them all, yet to be completed, and until each had their own room, they had all agreed to continue to share. “I can feel it in my bones that I’m no longer the warrior I once was. The journey back to the Holy Land would be long and arduous, and I’d be just that much older by the time I got back there.”
“So you would stay in France?”
Simon nodded. “Now that I’m here, yes. If we had never left, I’d have been content to die on the sands our Lord once roamed.”
Marcus shivered against the cold. “I never thought I’d miss the heat, but days like today make me yearn for the desert sun.”
Simon grunted. “This will be my first winter in France since I was a boy.”
“You grew up not far from here, didn’t you?”
Simon stared out the door. “A few days’ ride. On the other side of Paris.”
“Is your family still there?”
Simon shrugged. “No idea.”
Marcus stared at his friend. In all the years he had known Simon, the man had barely mentioned his home. All Marcus knew was that he apparently had a brother, and that he hadn’t seen nor spoken to any of his family since he left as a boy. In fact, Marcus didn’t even know why he had left.
“Can I ask you something?”
Simon regarded him, his eyes suggesting he wanted to say no, as if he knew what Marcus was about to ask him. “Of course.”
“Why did you leave?”
Simon looked away, but not before a hint of shame revealed itself. “It’s not something I want to talk about.”
“I’ll respect your privacy, my friend. But whatever the reason, it clearly bothers you.” Marcus steeled himself for what was to come next, for he feared what the response might be. “And clearly life here has you troubled.” He leaned forward, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You have been my brother for longer than I can remember. There is no one that I trust more than you, or love more than you. And it pains me to see you unhappy.”
Simon turned back toward him, staring him in the eyes. “You shame me with your words.”
Marcus’ chest ached at the pain in his friend’s voice. He leaned back, removing his hand.
“Our work here is done for the season. All that is left is to finish the barracks, and tend the animals. It is work that can be done without you. I propose you go visit your family, and settle whatever business you have with them from so long ago.”
Simon’s eyes widened and his mouth opened to respond, a response that Marcus was certain would be a rejection of his suggestion.
He held up a finger, cutting Simon off. “Go to your family, settle your business with them, and then make your decision as to what you want to do with your life. Whether that is to return to the Holy Land to serve the Order, leave the farm to serve the Order in some other way, remain with your family, or to return here, I will support your decision, no matter what.” He leaned forward once again, lowering his voice. “My friend, I release you from any obligations you might have toward me. Go, seek out your family. Settle any past grievances, then with a clear conscience, decide for once in your life what is best for Simon, rather than what is best for those around you.”
Simon’s shoulders slumped, and as his friend drew in several deep, slow breaths, it was clear he was struggling to maintain control. Marcus desperately wanted to ask him once again what was bothering him, but held off, knowing his friend needed his space right now to maintain his dignity.
Something had happened when Simon was a child. What it was, he wasn’t sure, but it had happened when he was young, perhaps not even ten years of age. All Marcus knew was that Simon had left home and met up with a group of Templars heading for the Holy Land. They had taken him in, assuming he was orphaned, and he had trained to become a squire, then eventually a sergeant.
Precious little information to go on.
But recently, there were hints of something more. The horseplay between his nephew Jacques, and the orphan Pierre, seemed to trouble Simon, especially when Jacques, larger than the slight Pierre, dominated him. Simon never said anything, but Marcus knew his friend well enough to know when he was restraining himself. Fortunately, Lady Joanne’s introduction into their growing family provided a firm voice to admonish the young Jacques, and Simon’s unconscious head bobbing betrayed his feelings on the matter.
Did something happen when you were young? Something surrounding children bullying each other?
David and Jeremy entered the room carrying a large pot of stew and two loaves of bread. They hooked the pot over the fire then grabbed Marcus’ and Simon’s bowls sitting on a shelf near the hearth. David handed his master a full, steaming bowl of what smelled like something delicious. Marcus took it, then the chunk of bread held out for him.
“Thanks.”
David curtsied in a manner any lady would be proud of, as Jeremy held out Simon’s meal, the old warrior ignoring him. “Sergeant?”
Nothing.
Jeremy kicked Simon in the shin, finally getting his attention. “Where were you?”
Simon grunted, taking the food, before looking at Marcus sheepishly. “The other side of Paris, I believe.”
Marcus nodded in understanding. His friend had made his decision. He would be leaving them.
Now the question was whether he would ever return.
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The Templar Detective Thrillers
The Templar Detective
The Templar Detective and the Parisian Adulteress
The Templar Detective and the Sergeant's Secret
The Templar Detective and the Unholy Exorcist
The James Acton Thrillers
The Protocol
Brass Monkey
Broken Dove
The Templar’s Relic
Flags of Sin
The Arab Fall
The Circle of Eight
The Venice Code
Pompeii’s Ghosts
Amaz
on Burning
The Riddle
Blood Relics
Sins of the Titanic
Saint Peter’s Soldiers
The Thirteenth Legion
Raging Sun
Wages of Sin
Wrath of the Gods
The Templar’s Revenge
The Nazi’s Engineer
Atlantis Lost
The Cylon Curse
The Delta Force Unleashed Thrillers
Payback
Infidels
The Lazarus Moment
Kill Chain
Forgotten
The Special Agent Dylan Kane Thrillers
Rogue Operator
Containment Failure
Cold Warriors
Death to America
Black Widow
The Agenda
Retribution
The Detective Shakespeare Mysteries
Depraved Difference
Tick Tock
The Redeemer
Zander Varga, Vampire Detective Series
The Turned
Published Internationally by J. Robert Kennedy, Ottawa, ON Canada
Copyright © 2018 J. Robert Kennedy
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