Father Louis brought with him a papal bull affixed with the Pope’s seal. He now took it out and laid it on the empty table before them. There in writing stood all that he had just explained. He now needed to know what answer he should take back to the Holy Father.
“Say that the Order of the Knights Templar from the moment we received word from the Holy Father, shall yield to his edict,” replied Arnoldo de Torroja gently. “This is valid from the moment that I, the Grand Master, pronounced our submission. We shall see to it that this new order is implemented as soon as possible. It may take time, but we do not intend to cause any unnecessary delays. Our decision is already in effect because I have pronounced it so, and I don’t think that my friend and brother Arn de Gothia has any different view in this matter, do you, Arn?”
“No, absolutely not,” replied Arn in the same calm tone. “We Knights Templar conduct all sorts of business, and business is important to support the expense of an ongoing and costly war. I will gladly tell you more of this matter tomorrow, Father Louis. But to conduct business transactions relating to ecclesiastical matters conflicts with our rules and is called simony. Personally I view the business you spoke of, Father, as simony. So I can fully understand both Archbishop William’s charges and the decision of the Holy Father.”
“But then I don’t understand…” said Father Louis, as relieved by the swift acceptance of the decision as he was astonished by it. “Why did this sin occur if you both so clearly take exception to it?”
“Our previous Grand Master Odo de Saint Armand, now blessed in Paradise, had a different perspective on these matters than the two of us,” replied Arnoldo de Torroja.
“But couldn’t you as highly-placed brothers have criticized your Grand Master for this shameful act if you were so against it?” asked Father Louis in amazement.
He was met only by meditative smiles from the two men, but received no answer.
Arn summoned a knight and instructed him to show Father Louis and Brother Pietro, who had not said a word during the conversation, to their lodgings. Then he excused himself by saying that the king wanted to see both the Grand Master and Jerusalem’s Master at once. He assured them that on the following day he would be a better host. With that the Grand Master rose and blessed his two spiritual guests, to both the surprise and resentment of Father Louis.
The two Cistercians were led to their quarters for the night, but not without an initial blunder, since they were first led to a room intended for worldly guests with Saracen tile patterns and fountains. But then they were guided to the proper lodgings and were each given a whitewashed cell of the same type they normally occupied.
Arnoldo de Torroja and Arn hastened together to the king’s night quarters. They had little opportunity to talk about the papal bull on the way, but they were still agreed on the matter. It would be a drain on their income, yet it was good to be freed of this business which they both regarded as extremely dubious. So much the better then that they had been given direct instruction from the Holy Father himself to throw in the face of all those who might be displeased.
The king’s private rooms were small and dim, because he was unable to move or see very well. He awaited them sitting on his curtained throne, where he sat behind blue muslin so that from the outside he was visible only as a shadow. It was whispered that he had now lost both his hands.
In the room there was only one servant, a huge Nubian who was both deaf and dumb and sat on some cushions next to the wall with his gaze fixed on his half-concealed lord so that he could intervene at the slightest sign, which only he and the king understood.
Arnoldo de Torroja and Arn entered, walking side by side, and bowed to the king without a word. Then they sat down on two Egyptian leather stools before the unusual throne. The king spoke to them in a rather high-pitched voice; he was only in his twenties.
“I’m pleased that the two foremost brothers of the Knights Templar have heeded my summons,” he began and then broke off coughing and made a sign that his guests didn’t understand. The Nubian slave rushed over and arranged something behind the blue curtain though they couldn’t see what he did. They waited in silence.
“Although I’m farther from my death than some people both believe and hope,” the king went on, “I have no lack of troubles. You are both the backbone in the defense of the Holy Land, the Templar knights, and I wish to discuss two matters with you with no other ears present. So I shall speak in a language that in other circumstances I would have phrased in better terms. Is that all right with you, Templar knights?”
“Absolutely splendid, Sire,” replied Arnoldo de Torroja.
“Good,” said the king, then coughed briefly again but made no sign to his slave and continued at once. “The first question deals with the new patriarch of Jerusalem. The second question is about our military situation. I would like to take up the question about the patriarch first. Soon a new patriarch will be appointed, since Amalrik de Nesle is dying. It seems to be a matter for the church, but if I understand my mother Agnes correctly, it is actually more her concern, or rather mine. We have two candidates: Heraclius, archbishop of Caesarea, and William, archbishop of Tyrus. Let us weigh the arguments for and against each. I have understood that William is the enemy of the Knights Templar, but he is a godly man whose honor no one doubts. Heraclius is, if I may be quite honest now that no one can hear us, a rogue of a type that is rather common here in our land, a gone-astray choir boy or the like, and he is also known for his sinful life. And he is my mother’s lover, one of many, naturally. But he doesn’t seem to be your enemy; on the contrary. As you see, there are many less noble weights in the balance trays that we have before us. What is your opinion in this matter?”
It was obvious that Arnoldo de Torroja should answer, and equally obvious that he had a hard time replying with complete candor. And so he launched into a long harangue about life, God’s inscrutable will, and other things that merely meant that he was talking as he tried to work out what he should actually say. Arn was astonished by the unfortunate young king, who in spite of his frail voice exuded such an unusual power and decisiveness. And yet he suffered from an illness that meant he would soon die, and it caused him always to hide himself from whoever was in his presence.
“So, to sum up,” said Arnoldo de Torroja, finally coming to a conclusion. “It’s a good thing for the Knights Templar to have a patriarch who is our friend, and a bad thing to have one who is our enemy. At the same time it’s a good thing for the kingdom of Jerusalem to have a man of honor and faith as the supreme guardian over the True Cross and God’s Grave. And a sin to have a sinner in the same responsible post. What God might think in this matter is of course not hard to surmise.”
“Assuredly, but now it’s a matter of a higher power than God, namely my mother Agnes,” replied the king dryly. “I know that it’s actually the council of all the archbishops in the Holy Land that will decide and vote on this matter. But nowadays many of these men of God are easy to buy. So the decision is de facto mine, or yours and mine, or my mother’s. What I want to know is whether you Templar knights are absolutely opposed to one or the other of these two. Well?”
“A sinner who is well disposed toward us or an honest man of God who is against us, that is no easy choice, Sire,” replied Arnoldo de Torroja evasively. Had he been able to see into the future he would have said something else with all his might.
“Fine,” said the king with a sigh. “Then it looks like we’ll have a very unusual man as patriarch, since you’re leaving the decision to my mother. If God is as good as you Templars say, He will undoubtedly send His bolts of lightning against this man every time he approaches a slave boy or a married woman, or an ass for that matter. So! The second thing I wanted to talk about was the situation in the war. In this case everyone lies to me, as you may well understand; it sometimes takes me a year to grasp what has happened and not happened. For example, regarding what really happened at my only victory in the wars that I myself have waged. First I was the great victor at Mont Gisard; there were reliable witnesses who saw Saint George riding above me in a cloud and other such foolishness. Now I know that it was you, Arn de Gothia, who was the victor. Am I not right in this?”