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The Wolves of Solomon (Wolves of Solomon Book One)

Page 8

by R. L. Blackhurst


  ****

  “I don’t like this Jacques,” Gerard de Villiers said shaking his head, “we are hardly in a strong position of defence.”

  “What are you talking about?” Jacques De Molay said. His face, lit by the candlelight, showed his irritation at the remark.

  The Master of the Paris Temple sighed, “Sometimes Jacques I am inclined to believe that you suffer from intolerable arrogance.”

  “Now you sound like my son.” The Grand Master scoffed.

  “Perhaps he is right.”

  “He is a hypocrite,” Jacques said angrily, “he is arrogant himself in his own beliefs, if you’ve ever heard him.” He drew breath and then let it out abruptly. “Conviction in our ability to sail through this inquiry unscathed is what I would call it. Requesting the inquiry into the Order myself shows the accusations are nothing more than vicious lies perpetrated by enemies of the Temple. Clement will work his way through it and it will pass. It is not as if we haven’t suffered from bitter criticism before, eh?”

  Gerard rubbed his chin, “No, but as I just said we have been in stronger positions.” Jacques raised his eyebrows at him eager for clarification.

  “We are without a crusade.” Gerard began.

  “We are here to discuss that.” Jacques interrupted.

  “Aye, but at present we have limited purpose. The possibility of a new crusade is all we have at best and God knows even if we get it, aren’t we sick of the pretence?”

  “Christ, you do sound like my son!” Jacques complained then sighed wearily, “Like you said it is all we have, at best. Besides it will deflect attention from this damned merger the King is hell bent on.”

  “Methinks he fancies himself as some sort of grand unifying master of the resulting order.” Gerard observed.

  “Over my dead body!” Jacques said pouring himself some wine. He slid the flagon across the desk to De Villiers. “I am rather inclined to think that he would like to alleviate us of some, if not all, of our wealth.” He sipped his wine.

  “This is my point, Jacques,” said De Villiers, taking a hearty gulp from his cup, “Philip covets our wealth and the power we hold but we are in a precarious position. You cannot rely on Clement, he is afraid of Philip. He cowers in the shadow of Boniface and Philip well knows that.”

  “Philip is a bully but Clement is not as weak as you think.”

  “I hope you are right but you have caused him embarrassment of late, don’t forget that.” Gerard cautioned. They both knew that the incident with the Temple’s treasurer had angered Philip and Clement alike. Philip in particular had had his nose severely put out of joint, namely because he had had to ask for the money from the Temple in the first place. Although the large sum had been given to him, insult had been added to injury when De Molay had promptly expelled his treasurer for conducting the deed without his knowledge. This indicated to Philip that the request would have been denied had the Grand Master been notified of it beforehand. Clement had interjected on Philip’s behalf and requested immediate reinstatement of the treasurer. The Grand Master had ignored him, burning the Pope’s letter to make the point that the matter was closed.

  “I was within my rights to expel Du Tour. Clement was just pandering to Philip’s pride.”

  “Still there would be no harm in reinstating Du Tour.”

  “What?” Jacques face crumbled in horror at the notion.

  “Jacques,” Gerard raised his hands to still his temper. The Grand Master was not usually so quick to lose it but Gerard knew that this matter particularly incensed him. “Think of it as a gesture of good will, it may be a timely one.”

  “I am not afraid of Philip. He has nothing on us, anyway he is too stupid.”

  “He may be stupefied by wealth but he has unrelenting determination when he fixes his sights on something and he has councillors to be astute and do the digging of the dirt for him. De Nogaret is like a jackal waiting to pounce, he does his research thoroughly and he is not afraid of the height of the target either.”

  Jacques nodded contemplatively thinking of the jackal’s attack on Boniface VIII. Clement’s predecessor had been another of Philip’s obsessions which had resulted in him being seized by a group led by De Nogaret at his palace in Anagni and held captive under threat of going to trial on charges of abuse of power and heresy. Rebellion against this outrage, by the people of Anagni, had saved Boniface and he never went to trial although he died, in any case, within a month of the offence. Still it was proof of Guillaume de Nogaret’s guile and cocksure attitude. He had narrowly escaped excommunication by Boniface’s successor, Benedict XI, and by the time Clement V became Pope, under Philip’s persuasion, the matter had been forgotten and De Nogaret was comfortably situated within Philip’s camp once again.

  “It could be within our interests to appease the King and respectfully acknowledge Clement’s stance on the matter. We have a lot more to lose than our pride.” Gerard clasped his hands together before him and with his elbows upon the table for support he rested his chin upon them whilst studying the Grand Master’s expression intently. Jacques’ brow twitched in deep thought and then he frowned and rested his eyes upon De Villiers, “Your suggestion makes sense though I am loath to admit it.”

  Gerard breathed a sigh of relief, it was something of a victory to get Jacques de Molay to change course on something which he had already set his mind to. He quickly made sure that he reaffirmed his support for the Grand Master’s original decision and that foul times required unwilling sacrifices.

  “Under any other circumstances I would have had Du Tour strung up by his bollocks for his insolence and expelled, but just now it may do some good to have the King on side when this inquiry begins.”

  “Fine. Have the fool reinstated into the Order as treasurer. I hope I am not going to regret this Gerard. I hate weakness and would be mortified to be thought of encompassing any.” Jacques staunch resolve had come from quelling the only weakness he had ever really had and it was not without regret. He thought of the last time he had seen his son and how much he had looked like his beautiful mother and again felt regret. They had not parted company on good terms and now ironically he was doing the very thing his son had told him to do weeks ago.

  “Jacques, nobody could ever accuse you of being weak.” Gerard said seeing the disturbed look on De Molay’s face. Jacques shook his head and pushed away his sentimental musings. There would be time aplenty to make amends when this business was done with. His priority at this moment in time was the Temple and personal relationships had to come a poor second.

  “Perhaps we should deploy more agents of our own.” Gerard said almost as an afterthought but his intention was serious. Jacques looked up at him his eyebrows arched in interest.

  “If Philip has a mind to depose us, then we would do well to find out how he is armed. We should be one step ahead of trouble if it’s afoot and be ready to act if necessary.”

  “Practice caution,” Jacques said agreeing despondently. Gerard nodded. “We could know in days if there is any real threat.”

  “Do it then.” Jacques said curtly in response to Gerard’s comment and pinched the bridge of his nose. “This wine must be bottom of the barrel as I have developed a crushing headache, apologies Gerard but I need to retire.”

  “Of course,” he said standing up to take his leave immediately. “Much has been resolved this evening. I will see to the Du Tour business. Goodnight Jacques.”

  The Grand Master nodded his farewell and when Gerard had closed the door behind him he rested his head in his hands, the burden of his responsibility weighing him down. It was at times like this that he allowed himself to wish that a choice he had made some thirty three years ago had been different. He wondered where he would be now if Isabelle was still alive and whether he would know better his son. He sighed heavily then pushed the sombre thoughts away again. Regret was weakness and weakness he despised. He stood up and wearily made his way to his pallet where he attempted to get some
rest. However, sleep did not come and as he lay in the darkness he was only aware of the unrelenting advance of time and fate.

  Chapter Five

 

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