The Wolves of Solomon (Wolves of Solomon Book One)

by R. L. Blackhurst

13th April 1310, Gisors

  The werewolves from Chinon had divided into three groups; those too injured to journey onwards into further battle, those who would go to the Paris Temple to free any brothers there, and those who would go to Gisors. The injured remained hidden to recover and when ready would make their separate journeys to freedom. Some would go to Scotland but others who had families in different parts of Europe would seek out their new futures with them.

  John St Clair led the troop of about fifty to the Paris Temple. Because of their number in force now, they were confident that resistance would be minimal and it would therefore lead to less bloodshed. Those who had turned to De Floyran’s side would likely take flight when confronted with such powerful opposition or if they had been living under pretence, choose to become free of it and join again their true brothers. It was doubted that any of the King’s men, if present, would involve themselves in the tussle they may witness. They would be left unharmed unless they were foolish enough to interfere.

  Galeren led the larger troop to Gisors because the Templar masters were there and with De Floyran’s presence they expected more trouble. Nevertheless, they hoped that any bloodshed would, for the most part, be minimal, having brothers join them rather than fight against them. Only a few, such as De Floyran’s original men, were marked to be targeted and dispatched.

  Although Galeren was less than pleased about it, Catherine had journeyed with them to Gisors. Her leg injury had been nasty but superficial and with no impeding effects, she had insisted on joining them. He reasoned that it was better to keep an eye on her than worry what she was up to when out of his sight, however, he was well aware that they were heading into De Floyran’s territory and would have to be extra vigilant.

  “Do you think he will still offer resistance when he realises how outnumbered he is?” Catherine had asked before they left.

  “All I know is never to underestimate De Floyran. Even at his lowest ebb he still manages to have a few surprises up his sleeve. ’Tis why you must be wary Catherine, you must do what I ask. The tide may be in our favour but he has nothing to lose now and that makes him even more dangerous.”

  “I understand.” She answered, knowing that they did have everything to lose now. They were very close to their goal and if successful they could soon be on their way back to the safety of Scotland and their future.

  When they’d reached the outskirts of the town of Gisors, Galeren had briefed his troop one last time on the plan of attack. It would be swift and clean and the objective was to free the prisoners, get the masters safely to Scotland, and take De Floyran and his henchmen out.

  Galeren had successfully persuaded Catherine to wait without the walls of the fortress and had instructed Parsifal to remain with her and play bodyguard. Catherine knew that if she interfered she could place Galeren in danger and she had witnessed enough vicious battling to last a lifetime. She was at least assured that this time Galeren was entering De Floyran’s territory with more than adequate backup. He promised her that it would be over quickly and with minimal fuss. Unbeknownst to him, however, members of his troop were concerned for his safety.

  I don’t know what you think, Richard de Gosbeck said to De Villiers and company of the original nine that had gone to Chinon, but I think we should stick close to Galeren. De Floyran must know that he has lost. He will then, be hell bent on getting Galeren. It’s likely his men have been instructed to target him.

  I agree, De Villiers said. We should shadow him and protect him from assault. There are plenty of us to afford such measured defence. We cannot afford to lose him now. We should watch Caradas as well, who knows if his loyalty will remain with us.

  With stealth and zeal for the mission at hand, the wolves took to the streets of Gisors. Again they had waited for the darkest part of the night to traverse its quarters, knowing that most of its residents would be long abed and would therefore miss the historic assault. When they reached the château they mounted its outer walls in groups one after the other, after the other.

  A seemingly endless number of wolves spilled into the fortress and within the bailey they were met by the horrified stares of the human guards on watch. The hapless guards could barely believe what their eyes were seeing as the wolves leapt down from the walls in their dozens.

  De Floyran sends humans to the slaughter first. Galeren said contemptuously, as he surveyed what resistance was present in the bailey. He saw that the men were frozen in fear, their swords drawn and their cries for backup leaving their voices hoarse. Galeren changed and marched up to one of the watch guards, flanked by several of his wolf comrades, and commanded:

  “Take me to the Templars you have imprisoned here, if you do as I say you have my word that none of your men will be harmed.”

  The guard began to stutter an answer which sounded compliant but at that moment the remaining army of De Floyran’s came to offer their resistance

  “Take my men to the prisoners!” Galeren demanded and then changed back into wolf form, while the wolves at his side changed into men and escorted the stunned guard rapidly out of the mêlée that was about to begin. Galeren looked for the black wolf that he knew he was meant to face in this final chapter. However, he could see no evidence of De Floyran, but instead saw the snarling muzzles of dozens of other wolves all heading towards him.

  I knew it! Richard screamed. Shield him!

  Immediately Galeren found himself surrounded by his own men, who deftly fended off the assailants whose purpose was clear. Galeren looked around desperately to see that others in his group were not faced with any resistance and were either following the escorted guard to the dungeons or hastening to protect him.

  What the fuck is this? Galeren cried out angrily.

  Your old friend knows he is outnumbered. He cares not for the release of the men here. His goal is to get you, ’tis all that matters to him now. Richard answered, snapping at the hind legs of one of the assailants as he made to retreat from the fray.

  Catherine! Galeren cried out, realising that if this was De Floyran’s aim, then she too was just as at risk as he. De Floyran was not here, and with dread Galeren knew why.

  I must get to her!

  Stay with us if you want to stay alive! I am sure she is fine where she is. We’ll go when we’ve dealt to this lot! Richard stressed, as they fought to fend off the assault.

  I hate waiting, Catherine said as she looked up to the top of the walls. She and Parsifal were stood in amongst some trees, just outside the château and they could hear the bedlam that was resonating from within the fortress, but I know that I would be a burden if I were inside. The fighting is vicious and not in my nature to sustain.

  You fought well, Parsifal observed, as well as any of us. But if you lack the stomach for it, then it is not because anything is lacking in your wolf nature, it is because of your sex. It is men that are the vicious and cruel creatures of this world, not women and not wolves.

  A wise observation, she said but then fear pierced her soul as a familiar voice invaded her mind.

  Well, well my little she-wolf how beautiful your pelt is. It was De Floyran. Catherine whirled to face the evil menace but could not see him.

  What is it? Parsifal said, looking at her.

  De Floyran. He is close, very close. Can you not sense him?

  No! Parsifal said sounding concerned. Are you sure?

  Yes, she is. De Floyran said and emerged out of the black night flanked by Armin de Merle and Botolf Wardard. There is a hell of a tussle going on in there. We thought we’d take a stroll until it abated. Fancy finding you here? De Floyran’s wolf muzzle offered the form of a smile that even in its bestial expression was uniquely his.

  Three against two, mmmm. De Floyran teased provocatively.

  Don’t hurt him. Catherine pleaded. ’Tis me you want and I’ll go with you.

  Always thinking of others Catherine, ’tis why I am so fond of you. Now, here is how it is going to be. Armin and Botolf are going to s
ort out your little protector, while you and I get down to some unfinished business.

  Don’t worry about me, Parsifal said with passion.

  Brave words young Bondeville, so like your father. De Floyran sneered. You have not said much to me, and since your hatred seems un-personal I can only imagine that Galeren never told you what happened to your father.

  Parsifal’s eyes narrowed but he nodded his head confidently. He did. My father died at Acre, fighting to protect fleeing citizens.

  He did die fighting, De Floyran said darkly, fighting me. He exposed his teeth at Parsifal in a macabre grin.

  Parsifal baulked as he sensed the truth. Galeren had been sparing in the details of his father’s death and now he knew why. He bared his own teeth at his tormentor and screamed,

  Run Catherine! as he leapt at De Floyran. De Floyran maintained his position casually, as Boltolf and Armin moved to protect him. They tore Parsifal down in mid-flight and began to rip into him.

  No! Catherine screamed moving forward but De Floyran turned and lunged towards her, his white teeth gleaming in the blackness.

  Catherine quickly turned to escape his snapping jaws. She ran as quickly as her legs would carry her in attempt to get away from him. She knew that she was powerless to help Parsifal and remembering Galeren had said De Floyran would kill her if he couldn’t have her, she ran because her life did depend on it.

  I must go to them! Galeren screamed and attempted to break through the circle of wolves who were trying to protect him from the attack.

  What are you doing, you stubborn fool? Richard cried, as he was forced to follow him. It is you he wants!

  You’re wrong! He’ll go after Catherine to spite me.

  These men, his men, are after you! He’ll want you battered but alive so he can administer the final blow. Richard cried, struggling to stay alongside Galeren.

  Then where is he? Galeren continued.

  Waiting within for your hide to be presented to him, I expect! Form a line! he commanded their troop, as Galeren broke through the ranks and raced away from the fray heading towards the postern gate that had been opened.

  Wait for me! Richard screamed after him but he had already disappeared through the gate. Richard tried to follow but was slammed down onto the ground. He felt teeth sink into the back of his neck. Shit! he thought, as he now tried to defend himself. Galeren was on his own.

  Frantic, Galeren swiftly reached the spot where he had left Catherine with Parsifal, just beyond the walls of the fortress. Immediately, he saw Parsifal in a bad way with Armin and Botolf.

  Parsifal! he screamed, praying that he was not too late. He threw himself into the two brutes who had Parsifal pinned to the ground and were tearing him apart. Fear and anger made him ruthless as he tore into the flanks of his two hated foes, remembering every evil that they had done, not least their latest assault.

  Astride Botolf, who on his back was struggling to get up, Galeren attempted to make the killing blow. He tried to grab his throat but it was impossible as he thrashed about in a frenzy, gnashing at Galeren’s muzzle in defence. Galeren felt the muscles in his shoulder rip as Armin crunched his teeth down on his flesh and pulled his head back to cause maximum damage. Both seemed to relish battling with Galeren as he lost the upper hand and they overwhelmed him. Despite his predicament, Galeren did not feel the pain of it or doubt his eventual success, so driven was he in his purpose. Botolf twisted and his biting jaws got perilously close to Galeren’s throat.

  Don’t kill him! De Merle reminded Botolf, laughing in his enjoyment at dominating his long reviled enemy. However, it was his last command as he felt the attack from behind. Richard came out of nowhere and leapt onto his back. He sank his teeth into him and dragged him off Galeren.

  Crushing him with his weight and finding Armin still a little stunned, Richard found his throat was unprotected and with no hesitation had it out. With only one to contend with, Galeren wasted no time in gaining the advantage and rolled over with Botolf in the dirt several times. He finally restrained him and without a clear strike at his throat, he tore open his exposed belly instead. He rolled off the howling wolf and left him to bleed out while he raced to Parsifal’s side.

  He’s still alive, Richard said, looking down at him.

  Parsifal! Galeren cried.

  De Floyran, he managed weakly, he’s gone after her.

  Go, Richard said, I’ll stay with the lad.

  Galeren nodded and turning began to search for the trace of a scent. Within a few feet he had it and raced off in the direction of the pursuit.

  Catherine flew through the streets of Gisors, dodging down every side alley she could in an attempt to evade De Floyran. Though she knew she could not outrun the huge wolf, she was agile and quick witted and was relying on this to keep just ahead of him. How long she could keep this up, she did not know. She wondered if she left the confines of the town and headed into the forest whether she would be able to escape him there.

  She knew that she would soon tire and De Floyran’s nose would find her if she tried to hide. It was almost hopeless, he would catch up with her eventually and only then would she realise her fate at his mercy. She had wanted to face him but now feared that the strong wolf spirit she possessed was still no match for his size and experience.

  She darted round a corner into a narrow street and skidded to a stop immediately, as she came face to face with one of the villagers. The woman carried a pale of water which she dropped as she let out a scream of absolute terror. De Floyran ran into the back of Catherine and she hit the dirt. The woman continued to scream and realising that De Floyran had not yet gotten hold of her, Catherine quickly got to her feet and regained her pace without looking back.

  To the forest then, she thought. The decision had been made for her, as she expected the streets soon to be full of villagers looking for marauding wolves. De Floyran was on her tail again in seconds and as she headed for the trees she heard him.

  Why are you running? Why are you running? he was laughing, teasing her, as was his way.

  She ignored him and tried to think of how to escape him. She could keep up this pace for some time but did not want to put too much distance between herself and the château. There were dozens of wolves on her side and they were all there. Fool! she thought suddenly. It was exactly where she should be heading to, not running from! She changed tact and decided to head back to the château. She attempted to run in a circle to redirect herself but De Floyran was not about to lose his quarry.

  I know exactly what you are thinking, and I can’t allow it. He said gaining on her rapidly. I have just been playing with you, you cannot out run me! As she heard his words, she realised that he had been playing with her and felt the full weight of him as he knocked her off her feet and pinned her to the ground.

  See! he said, his green eyes gleaming down at her. She struggled fruitlessly for a while and then surrendered.

  I have a question for you, he said. You always offer to go willingly with me when someone’s life is at stake. So I ask you, will you go willingly with me now when there is no-one to save but yourself?

  Catherine considered her answer as she caught her breath. She could lie to save her life or to create delay in hope of rescue, but she knew De Floyran could tell a lie when he heard one. So she decided to give him the answer he already knew to be true.

  No. She answered.

  The black wolf smiled, I appreciate your candour. It is difficult to know what to do with you Catherine. I wish it had not come to this. If Galeren had died like he was meant to and you had not escaped, perhaps you would have accepted your role at my side and things would be sweet between us.

  That would never have happened! Catherine retorted. Be thankful things turned out this way, for if you had killed Galeren I would have taken your throat while you slept!

  Full of spirit as ever! But while you think things have gone in your favour, you are wrong. As we speak Galeren is being attacked by my men. They were in
structed, them all, to focus on him and ignore the others. I am sure it was over quickly for him and poor Parsifal will be in pieces too by now. Armin and Botolf are vicious bastards. So you are left with nothing and your life is in my hands, once again.

  Then take it! she challenged, if what you have said is true then why would I want to live? And know that I would take every opportunity to kill you if you tried to keep me.

  So tempting an offer. De Floyran said, though he did not specify to which he referred.

  He revealed his teeth to her and moved his muzzle close to hers, so that they touched. Catherine immediately felt the same terror as she had on the night they had first met. She tried not to betray her fear to him and instead stared back at him as defiant as possible. But he did nothing except keep his green eyes fixed on her grey ones, as if delaying what he knew to be regrettable but inevitable.

  De Floyran! Galeren’s voice dissolved Catherine’s fear momentarily and shattered De Floyran’s concentration. Running towards them he came to an abrupt halt and then began to approach them more slowly.

  Stay where you are! De Floyran commanded, as he took Catherine’s throat between his teeth. She froze and closed her eyes as her fear returned. He would kill her in front of Galeren. It would be the ultimate revenge, perfect in fact.

  Don’t! Galeren said, his panic was evident and he tried to get closer.

  I said stay where you are! De Floyran warned, closing his jaws tighter. Catherine yelped, feeling his bite and Galeren backed off.

  You can’t do it. Galeren said desperately. Even if you want to spite me you can’t, because you love her.

  I’ve never loved anything in my life! De Floyran threw back at him. I hate women, they have but one use and I have had that use of her, as you well know.

  You love her, Esquin and you know it in your black heart. If you kill her and then survive me, it will destroy you. Kill me and let her go, you will never be able to live having killed that which you love.

  De Floyran’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Galeren, anger swelled within him but he could not take the bite. Catherine slowly opened her eyes to find De Floyran looking at her, the malice and coldness in them had gone and instead was replaced by a wistful look.

  You’re right, De Floyran said bitterly, staring down at Catherine, I do love her.

  He released her throat and instead slammed his head sideways into hers, knocking her out cold. Certain that she was unconscious he walked away from her and went to face his real enemy. Relief flooded Galeren’s senses as he saw Catherine’s chest rise and fall as she breathed.

  She has ruined everything and yet, the black wolf shook his head in disbelief, I still can do her no harm.

  He then looked at his opponent and smiled. Galeren’s white pelt was covered in blood and De Floyran could smell that, while some of it was Armin and Botolf’s, the majority was Galeren’s own. He could see the massive injury to his shoulder and that blood still flowed from the wound. He was battle beaten and the loss of blood would weaken him further. This would be easy, he thought, though he would practice caution, for he knew the power of Galeren’s wolf half.

  They circled each other slowly keeping their distance, their eyes each fixed on each others, heads lowered and hackles raised.

  You look worse for wear Galeren, De Floyran remarked casually, are you sure you want to do this? I could kill you mercifully if you choose to forgo the barbarity of a wolf fight.

  Very tempting, Galeren said sarcastically, but I prefer a fight and have plenty of it left in me. You have much to pay for and pay for it you will.

  Even if you manage to kill me, you will still live with the memory that I murdered over two hundred of your brethren at the stake and had your woman. I have caused mischief and mayhem and have destroyed the Templar Order. Even this little victory you celebrate only means that a few more of you can run to the hills and hide. My work here is done my old friend. I care not about the King or the others’ wishes. I consider my revenge justly served. De Floyran said malevolently.

  Galeren bared his teeth in anger and moved closer to his quarry. And ’tis why you must die!! he screamed and charged at his enemy.

  De Floyran drew back his gums in a vicious snarl and in turned charged towards Galeren. The speed and ferocity at which the two huge wolves collided caused them both to be thrown onto their backs and away from each other. Galeren felt his shoulder tear further and the warmth of his blood as it renewed its flow from the wound.

  Both wolves got to their feet rapidly and were at each other again, clashing hard and snapping at any piece of flesh or limb that came within reach of their powerful jaws. De Floyran deftly sank his teeth into Galeren’s injured shoulder but Galeren rose his muzzle up and came close to taking De Floyran’s throat. De Floyran quickly released his grip and lowered his head and backed away. A guttural cry came from Galeren and he moved in on De Floyran not wanting him to put any distance between them.

  He leapt and brought De Floyran to the ground, sinking his teeth into his left foreleg. His bite gained the desired effect and De Floyran cried out, as Galeren ripped into it. De Floyran rolled worsening the tear and snapped at Galeren’s face catching the side of his muzzle and taking a chunk out of it. Galeren let go but then jumped onto De Floyran’s back as he tried to get to his feet. With the advantage once again, Galeren bit down into the back of De Floyran’s neck and the black wolf bucked and twisted in an attempt to shake him off. Galeren held on with his teeth for as long as possible before De Floyran threw him off, but he managed to leave with his mouth full of his flesh.

  Fucking bastard! De Floyran screamed in rage and pain, as he tried to create distance to gather his wits.

  I could kill you mercifully if you choose not to continue with the barbarity of this wolf fight. Galeren smiled conceitedly, advancing on De Floyran again.

  Fuck you! De Floyran said flying at him in torment. He tried for the throat but instead connected with Galeren’s chest and tore at muscle and sinew. Galeren tried to ignore the agony and instead grabbed at De Floyran’s torn ear, the one he had sliced some sixteen years earlier with his sword. He managed to grip the ear at its base and this time ripped the whole thing off. De Floyran howled and once again broke away from Galeren. He stared at his adversary with indescribable rage in his eyes but Galeren viewed him calmly.

  Let’s end this! Galeren said vehemently.

  She will think of me from time to time, remember me, what it was like with me. De Floyran sneered.

  Don’t be so sure. I said you loved her, not she loved you.

  Ah, but she knows that now, that I loved her and could not kill her. I spared her life because I love her. She will remember that and think on it when you cause her sadness.

  Galeren surged forward and knocked De Floyran to the ground in anger, their bodies locked together and their eyes met as they rolled over each other, the hatred from years of torment spilling out of them. De Floyran reared up and saw his chance to end it but Galeren anticipated his move and struck him with his hind legs knocking him off balance and backwards.

  It was the opportunity that Galeren needed, he lunged forward and grabbing De Floyran’s throat he tore it swiftly from him. De Floyran’s eyes widened and met with Galeren’s for the last time and an understanding resonated from deep within them; it was finally over.

  The black wolf fell to the ground and Galeren dropped the bloody remnants of his throat. Cautiously, he watched his fallen foe for a time to make sure he was dead. No breath entered or left his body and though Galeren was sure that De Floyran would not survive without a throat, his past haunted him still. He would never make the same mistake again, so he waited and watched. De Floyran’s black fur did well to hide the evidence of the vicious fight that had taken place and assault to his body; while Galeren’s white fur was hidden beneath a bloody coat of red.

  Finally, the black body of the wolf disappeared and was replaced with the bloodied and naked form of De Floyran, the man. It was the certaint
y that Galeren needed. He was dead, there could be no doubt. Satisfied and relieved that his enemy had been slain and that Catherine was finally free of him, Galeren rushed over to her side.

  Catherine! he nudged her twice. She was alive but the crack on the head De Floyran had administered meant that she could be unconscious for a while. Catherine! he said again and was grateful when he saw her eyelids flicker weakly. Catherine slowly opened her eyes, her vision was blurred but there was no doubt in her mind who was stood over her.

  Galeren. She said, trying to clear her vision and come to her senses. As she came to, she looked in horror at Galeren’s blood stained visage.

  You are terribly injured! she said, trying to get up.

  I’ll be alright. Galeren said calmly.

  Where is De Floyran?

  Dead, over there. Galeren said coldly, motioning to the spot where his enemy lay fallen.

  Catherine got to her feet and shakily walked over to De Floyran’s lifeless body. She looked down at him and could see the fatal strike that Galeren had made. Despite all the cruelty he had administered his dark features looked peaceful, almost gentle. He was her maker and had pursued her relentlessly. He had caused her loss and distress and yet had confessed to loving her in the final moments. He had even given up the chance to have a spiteful victory over Galeren by not taking her life. There was that, but she could not mourn him for all he had done; she could only pity him and the life he had chosen. She was thankful that she no longer had anything to fear. She looked back at Galeren who watched her judiciously.

  How did you know? Catherine asked. That he cared for me?

  He hesitated, Galeren said, if you’d meant nothing to him, he would have killed you as soon as I arrived to see it.

  It’s over, she said, turning away from De Floyran.

  It is. He cannot hurt you now. She nodded and once again became concerned by the state of Galeren.

  I am fine, I can recover later. He said allaying her concern. We have to get back to the château and get what we came for.

  They cautiously navigated their way back through the village of Gisors, noting that many of its inhabitants had since come into the streets with talk of wolves on the loose and something happening at the château.

  Parsifal! Catherine screamed as she saw his fallen body as they raced back towards the outer wall of the fortress. Richard was still by his side.

  He’s still alive, Richard said. And so are the both of you, thank Christ. God’s blood Galeren! Richard remarked taking in the harrowing sight of him. You look like you’ve been skinned.

  Almost, Galeren said. But I still have my throat.

  You saw to him then? Richard asked but had no doubt.

  Aye, Galeren nodded.

  I wanted to help but I didn’t want to leave him like this.

  No, you did right. I wanted you to stay with him. I needed to deal with De Floyran on my own.

  Richard nodded, understanding only too well why. We’ll need horses and uniforms to get out of here. He won’t be able to walk, let alone run.

  I will see to it. There is some interest stirring in the village and we’ll need to go home in human form in any case. I need to get back inside. I must get to my father. Stay together, this will be finished soon.

  Be careful! Catherine stressed.

  Always, Galeren said as he sped away.

  Christ on the Cross Galeren! De Villiers said, as he saw him racing back into the bailey. Galeren looked around warily but from the looks of it, the resistance was over. Wolves that were obviously on their side were lying around the yard resting and others were busy helping those who had been wounded.

  What happened here? Galeren asked approaching Gerard.

  It folded almost as soon as you left. Most of De Floyran’s men fled. I don’t think they gave a shit about what was going on and with no direction from their absentee leader they used what sense they still had and made off to save their own skins. Speaking of skins . . . De Villiers noted as he looked over Galeren’s appalling state.

  It’s just superficial, Galeren answered dismissively but winced as the gravity of his injuries started to become painfully evident, now that his adrenaline had waned.

  De Floyran?

  It’s over with him. Galeren nodded assuredly and then quickly changing the subject said: My father, he is here I pray. Have you seen him?

  Yes, I have seen him and he is fine under the circumstances, but there is a problem Galeren. De Villiers said with a note of caution in his voice.

  What do you mean?

  You should talk to him. De Villiers urged.

  I intend too, if it’s what I think . . . he broke off angrily, wincing again in pain.

  Just talk to him. And don’t let him see you like that. Change and we’ll get some clothes on you.

  Galeren nodded. We’ll need more clothing and horses, as many as we can find. Find out what all these men want to do. Not all will want to come to Scotland with us, though make sure they all know they are welcome to.

  When he had changed and become heavily clothed to hide his injuries, Galeren made his way into the dungeons of the château. He tried to not to limp and attempted to keep his senses sharp though he knew he was weakening through loss of blood. He saw the remaining masters sat in the main room of the dungeon, all except Raimbaud de Caron. The dank and rancid smell of the place piqued Galeren’s nose causing him to almost swoon in his weakened state. However, his indomitable spirit soon returned when he saw his father, sat calm and resolute with his eyes fixed on him as he approached.

  “What are you doing?” Galeren said sharply, already guessing the extent of his father’s stubborn will.

  “’Tis good to see you, son.” De Molay said and smiled as Galeren folded his arms and raised his eyebrows waiting for the answer to his question.

  “I will speak to my son alone.” De Molay said to the others who were already stood, sensing a need for privacy between father and son.

  “We can talk later when we are all in safety.” Galeren said adamantly. The other dignitaries still took their leave and Galeren was left staring into the eyes of his father, the Grand Master of the Order of the Temple.

  “Where is Raimbaud de Caron?” Galeren demanded.

  “He died in Chinon, just before we were brought here. He spirit found incarceration hard. He caught a fever and he did not have the will to fight it. He did not want to.”

  Galeren clenched his jaw in anger. “I am sorry.” He said with genuine sentiment. “We can hold a vigil for him and all the others who have died when we are away from this place.”

  “That will be an extremely honourable gesture. But we cannot join you because the others and I are not leaving here.”

  “You stubborn fool!” Galeren said angrily, “I knew you’d do something like this. After all that has happened you still wish to play the martyr! Do you know how many of your men have risked their lives to save you?”

  “I do, and I think they did not come just to save me. I have already spoken with Gerard, and I know your part in this. You have achieved your mission, but I must remain here.” He said standing up.

  “Why?” Galeren cried. “What is the point? You know that Clement will not absolve the Order. You know Philip has sanctioned the burning of hundreds of Templars already and mark my word he wants you put to the stake, you and the others here. It is a meaningless sacrifice!”

  “I know it is difficult for you to understand because you are young and you have always had another vision for us, but I must die with the Temple. I must perish along with its name.” He opened his hands in a gesture that begged for understanding.

  “No! Live, adapt to the future. Why do you want to do this? I don’t understand!” Galeren’s frustration made his injured body smart and he clenched his teeth.

  “I am Grand Master; I have given my life to the Order. How can I leave it to disintegrate without a champion to defend its honour in its last hour?”

  “This is martyrdom at its wor
st!” Galeren roared. “There is no cause to champion, we are werewolves, the King and his council know this. They want our destruction and nothing more. The Temple may be destroyed but we have still saved hundreds that may have perished in flames like the others. We have prevailed. I will not let the King have the satisfaction of murdering you. Forget the Temple, it is over!”

  “It is not over for me or the other masters. If we just disappear, how will history judge us? If I abandon my ship, what master would that make me? The sacrifices that others have made for the Order, those that have died defending or honouring it, not just now but through the centuries. If I leave the Temple all those sacrifices, and the ones I myself have made for the Order, would have been for nothing. That I would so glibly turn my back on it to save my own skin? I think not, my son.”

  “It is sentimental horseshit!” Galeren said, refusing to budge.

  “What would your mother think if she were still alive?” De Molay said and saw Galeren’s eyes flicker with the memory of loss. “That I sacrificed a future with she whom I loved and a good relationship with my son, for a cause, that when it came down to it, I was happy to abandon when I felt the heat. If I do leave here and sail to safety, all I have given up would be for nothing. I made my choices, the Temple is my life and I choose to die with it, I must!”

  Galeren blinked several times to keep the emotion from swelling up in his eyes. “What about your son now? Do you not still want the opportunity to have a good relationship with him?”

  “I could not be prouder of my son. He is a far better man than I.”

  Galeren shook his head, uncomfortable with his father’s emotive words. He had never spoken to him this way before and Galeren was unsure of how to deal with the sentiment but De Molay continued,

  “The future lies with you Galeren, you must go to your new world. You must build again our strength and you will adapt it to fit the time. I have no doubt it will be a success and we will prevail as a race.”

  “No one will think any less of you if you come with us. History will make up its own mind.” Galeren attempted to persuade him one last time but De Molay just shook his head.

  “I want to do this, please understand and think well of me.”

  “Of course I think well of you.” Galeren said, feeling his voice choke with emotion. “The others, they are as stubborn as you in this?”

  “They are. We are the end of something that was once great. If we die for it, the Order will be remembered valiantly and our persecutors judged harshly. That is what I desire now, more than anything.”

  Galeren sighed heavily and tried to compose himself. “I cannot carry you out of here and I haven’t the strength to. I’m sure Gerard has tried to persuade you but I must, though I am loath to, respect your decision and I must leave you now.”

  “Thank you Galeren, my son.” De Molay said with genuine sentiment and opened his arms in a gesture of embrace. It was an act that was both too late in coming and perfect in its timing. Galeren strode towards his father and embraced him strongly.

  “You will have a son one day, and he will despair at your decisions as you have at mine but you will love each other none the less.” De Molay said as they broke apart. Galeren smiled his understanding and nodded at the other masters as he made to leave. As he did De Molay said,

  “Give Catherine my love.”

  Galeren nodded as he walked free of the dungeon, unable to turn around and see his father for the last time, unable to prevent the hot tears from spilling down his cheeks.

  Chapter Thirty Six