“Yes, lord,” replied Armand with a nervous swallow.

“Are you married or are you engaged to any woman, and is there any woman who can make a claim on you?”

“No, lord, I was the third son and—”

“I understand. Please answer only yes or no. Now, the next question. Were you born legitimately of parents who were united before God?”

“Yes, lord.”

“Is your father or his brother or your father’s father a knight?”

“My father is the baron of Gascogne.”

“Excellent. Are you in financial debt to anyone of worldly position or to any brother or any sergeant in our Order?”

“No, lord. How could one be in debt to a brother?”

“Thank you!” Arn interrupted him, holding up a warning hand. “Just answer my questions, do not argue and do not question!”

“Forgive me, lord.”

“Are you healthy in your body, hale and hearty? Yes, I know the answer, but I must ask the question in accordance with the Rule.”

“Yes, lord.”

“Have you paid any gold or silver to enter into our Order, and is there anyone who has promised against compensation to make you one of us? This is a serious question; it deals with the crime of simony, and if anything is later discovered, your white mantle will be taken from you. The Rule says that it is better that we know now than later. Well?”

“No, lord.”

“Are you prepared to live in chastity, poverty, and obedience?”

“Yes, lord.”

“Are you prepared to swear before God and Our Holy Virgin Mary that you will do your utmost in every situation to live up to the traditions and customs of the Knights Templar?”

“Yes, lord.”

“Are you prepared before God and Our Holy Virgin Mary to swear that you will never leave our Order, in its moments of weakness or its moments of strength, that you will never betray us and never leave us other than with special permission from our Grand Master?”

“Yes, lord.”

Arn did not seem to have any more questions; he sat silent and meditative for a while, as if he had already moved far away to other concerns. Then his face brightened suddenly. He jumped down from his half-sitting position on the table, and went over to Armand to embrace him and kiss him on both cheeks.

“This is what our Rule prescribes from paragraph 669 on. Now you know this section that has been revealed to you, and you have my permission to go and read it again with the chaplain. Come now, we’ll go out on the balcony.”

In a daze, Armand of course did as he was told, following his lord out to the balcony and, after some hesitation, standing just as he did with both hands resting on the stone railing, gazing down at the harbor.

“That was the preparation,” Arn explained, a bit wearily. “You will be asked the same questions once again at the initiation itself, but then it’s more of a formality, since we already know your answers. It was this moment that counted, and I can now tell you for certain that you will be accepted as a knight as soon as we have time for it. Until then you will wear a white band around your upper right arm.”

For a moment Armand felt a dizzy happiness inside, and he was incapable of replying to this good news.

“Naturally, we have a war to win first,” Arn added thoughtfully. “And it doesn’t look easy, as you know. But if we die, then the matter is no longer of this world. If we survive, then you will soon be one of us. Arnoldo de Torroja and I myself will conduct the initiation ceremony. So be it. Do you feel happy about this?”

“Yes, lord.”

“I wasn’t very happy when I was in your position. It had to do with the first question.”

Arn had revealed this remarkable admission as if in passing, and Armand didn’t know how to reply, or whether he should say anything at all. They stood for a while looking down at the harbor, where hard work was in progress unloading two lighters that had moored that same day.

“I have decided to make you our confanonierfor the time being,” Arn said as if he’d returned from his reverie about the first question. “I don’t need to explain what a special honor it is to bear the banner of the Temple and the fortress in war; you know that already.”

“But mustn’t a knight…can a sergeant be given that assignment?” Armand stammered, overwhelmed by the news.

“Under normal circumstances it would be a knight, but you would have been a knight by now if the war hadn’t intervened. And I’m the one who decides, no one else. Our confanonierhas not recovered from serious wounds; I visited him in the infirmary and have already spoken with him of this. Now let me hear what you think about the war we’re about to reenter.”

They went in and sat down next to one of the big windows, and Armand tried to tell him what he thought. He presumed it would be a long siege that would be hard to endure but quite possible to win. He did not think they should ride out, 80 knights and 280 sergeants, to meet an army of Mameluke knights on the field. Scarcely 400 men against perhaps 7,000 to 8,000 knights—that would be very brave but also very stupid.

Arn pensively nodded his agreement, but added, almost as if thinking out loud, that if that army bypassed Gaza and headed for Jerusalem itself there would no longer be any question of what was wise, stupid, or brave. Then there would be only one choice. So they would have to hope for a long and bloody siege. Because no matter how such a long battle would end, they would have saved Jerusalem. And there was no greater task for the Knights Templar.

But if Saladin headed straight for Jerusalem, there would be only two choices for them all. Death, or salvation through a miracle of the Lord.

So in spite of all its terrors, they would have to pray for a long siege.

Two days later Armand de Gascogne rode for the first time as the confanonierin a squadron of knights led by the master himself. They rode south along the seacoast in the direction of Al Arish, fifteen knights and a sergeant in tight formation. According to the Bedouin spies, Saladin’s army was on the move but had split in two, with one regiment heading north along the coast and the other inland in a circular movement across the Sinai. It was not easy to grasp what the intention of such a maneuver might be, but the information would have to be verified.

At first they rode close to the seacoast on the west, giving them full view of the beach to the southwest. But since there was a risk that they might end up behind enemy lines without realizing it, Arn soon ordered a change of course. Then they headed east, up toward the more mountainous part of the coast where the caravans passed during the seasons when storms made the coast itself impassable.

Up by the caravan road they altered course again, so that they stayed in the heights above it and had a clear view of the road for a great distance. When they passed a curve where the view along the road was obscured by a protruding cliff, they suddenly made contact with the enemy.

Both parties discovered each other at the same time, and both were equally surprised. Along the road below came an army of knights riding four abreast, stretching as far as the eye could see.

Arn raised his right hand and signaled to regroup in attack position, so that all sixteen knights spread out in a row facing the enemy. He was obeyed at once, but his men also gave him some questioning, nervous looks. Below were at least two thousand Egyptian knights carrying yellow banners, and their yellow uniforms shone like gold in the sun. So they were Mamelukes, an entire army of Mamelukes, the absolutely best knights and soldiers the Saracens had.

When the Templar knights high above them regrouped to attack, the valley soon echoed with commands and the clatter of horses’ hooves as the Egyptians hastily prepared to meet the assault. Their mounted archers were sent to the front rank.

Arn sat silently in his saddle watching the mighty foe. He had no intention of ordering an attack, since it would result in the loss of fifteen knights and a sergeant without much gain from such a sacrifice. But neither did he want to flee.