“What you have told us, Father,” said Arnoldo de Torroja, “is most disquieting. Something of this man’s evil talents was known to both me and Brother Arn. But the awful truth that he ordered the venerable William of Tyrus poisoned is an utter surprise to us. And that, of course, brings me to the obvious question. Why are you telling us this now, and what do you, or your exalted principal, want us to do with this knowledge?”
“It is my task simply to convey this information, but you may not share it with anyone outside the rank that you both hold,” said Father Louis tensely, because he found this part of his instructions difficult to impart. “If someone succeeds Arn de Gothia, you Arnoldo shall inform his successor of this matter. And the same applies to you, Arn de Gothia.”
“Is this the express will of the Holy Father?” asked Arnoldo de Torroja.
“Yes it is, and for that reason I now deliver to you this papal bull,” replied Father Louis. He opened his mantle and took out a parchment roll bearing two great papal seals, placing it on the empty table between them.
The two Templar knights bowed their heads as a sign of submission. Arnoldo de Torroja took the bull and stuffed it inside his mantle. Then they sat in silence for a while.
“As you no doubt understand, Father, we shall obey to the letter these orders from the Holy See,” said Arnoldo de Torroja. “But might we be permitted to ask further questions regarding this matter?”
“Yes, in the name of God, you may,” replied Father Louis, crossing himself. “But since I have already surmised what you intend to ask, I shall give my answer at once. You are both wondering why the Holy Father doesn’t clap the iron gloves on this man. Isn’t that what you wanted to know?”
“That’s exactly what we would like to know, if it is permitted,” Arnoldo de Torroja confirmed. “Many of us have realized that Heraclius is a deceiver. Everyone knows that he lives a life that does not befit a man of the Church. Our Lord knows that he is a shameful presence in Jerusalem. But his position is such that the only one who might bring about his downfall is the Holy Father himself. So? Why not excommunicate this deceiver and poisoner?”
“Because the Holy Father and his highest advisors have concluded that excommunication of Heraclius would damage the Holy Roman Church far beyond the injury that it has already suffered. The deceiver’s path to Hell is short, judged in human terms. He is sixty-seven years old. If he is excommunicated now, then the entire Christian world would know that the Holy Land had a poisoner, deceiver, and whoremonger as its patriarch. The damage caused by such knowledge spreading throughout Christendom would be irreparable. So for the sake of the Church and the Holy Land…well, you understand.”
The two Templars both crossed themselves as they reflected on what Father Louis had said. They nodded in gloomy silence as a sign that they agreed and that they had no further questions or objections.
“Well, that was the matter of the poisoner…” said Father Louis in a lighter tone, as if he were almost jesting about this serious topic. “Now we come to the next question. No, don’t look so alarmed. This is a completely different matter, and there is no papal bull to present but instead certain quandaries to discuss. It’s my task to try to reach clarity. If I may, I’ll get right to the point.”
“By all means, Father,” replied Arnoldo de Torroja, sweeping his hand over the table as if he expected some little demon to appear. “By now both Brother Arn and I are prepared for anything. Well?”
“This involves certain peculiar customs here in Jerusalem,” Father Louis began somewhat uncertainly because he didn’t know how to present his problem in both a polite and resolute way. “I understand that you permit unbelievers to pray within your jurisdiction in Jerusalem. In fact, they are allowed to announce quite loudly to the entire neighborhood when they intend to commence their ungodly prayers. Isn’t that so?”
“Yes, that’s true. So it is,” replied Arn when Arnoldo de Torroja gestured that he should handle this problem. “You see, there are thousands of times more Saracens than Christians here in Outremer. Even if we could kill them all, it wouldn’t be wise, because then we would starve to death. We have not owned the Holy Land for more than a hundred years, but our intention is to remain here forever, is it not?”
“Yes, one could put it that way,” Father Louis agreed, waiting for more details.
“Some Christians fight on the side of the Saracens,” Arn explained. “And many unbelievers fight on our side. The war is not Allah against God, because God is the same for everyone. The war is between good and evil. Many of our trading partners, caravan merchants, and those we hire to conduct espionage are unbelievers, just as are many of our physicians. To demand their conversion while they are working for us would be like going out in the fields and telling the Palestinian peasants to let themselves be baptized. Impossible and futile.
“Or let’s look at another matter: our trade with Mosul, for example, which has not yet been incorporated into Saladin’s empire. It takes two weeks by caravan between Mosul and Saint-Jean d’Acre, which is the most important export harbor for textiles from Mosul—what we call muslin. There in Saint-Jean d’Acre the merchants from Mosul have a caravanserai, with their own places of prayer and their own mosque and minaret from which the hour of prayer is announced. They also have their own tavern for eating and drinking, in accordance with their dietary laws. If we want to break off all trade with Mosul and also cast the Turkish atabeq there into the arms of Saladin, then we should forcibly shave off the merchants’ beards and baptize them with much kicking and screaming. We don’t consider that doing so would be in the best interests of the Holy Land.”
“But is it good for the Holy Land to have unbelieving ungodliness in the midst of the holiest of cities?” asked Father Louis dubiously.
“Yes, it is!” Arn retorted. “You, Father, know as well as I do that God’s pure teaching is ours. You are prepared to die for His pure teaching, and I have sworn to do so whenever it is demanded of me. We know what is the truth. Unfortunately nine-tenths of the people here in Outremer do not understand this. But if we are cast out by Saladin or any of his successors, how would it look here in a hundred years? In three hundred years? In eight hundred years?”
“So you think that the truth will prevail in the end?” Father Louis asked, showing an unexpected glint of mirth in the midst of this deeply serious conversation.
“Yes, that is what I believe,” said Arn. “We can hold the Holy Land by the sword, but not indefinitely. We won’t have truly won until we no longer need the sword. People of all kinds seem to have an equally strong aversion to being converted by force. The wiser course of action is to attempt a gradual conversion through trade, conversation, prayers, good preachers, and other peaceful means.”
“So to conquer the ungodliness we must permit it,” Father Louis pondered. “If such words had come from a runaway monk in Burgundy, I might have regarded his vision as childish, since he would know nothing of the power of the sword. But if you two, who know more about the sword than any other Christians, are of this opinion…And by the way, is this your opinion too, Grand Master?”
“Yes,” said Arnoldo de Torroja. “I may have tried to explain the matter less succinctly than my friend Arn. But in summary I would have said the same thing.”
In the year of grace 1184, three years before God’s angry judgment descended upon the Christians in the Holy Land, the Grand Master of the Hospitallers, Roger des Moulins, and the Grand Master of the Knights Templar, Arnoldo de Torroja, set off together with the patriarch of Jerusalem, Heraclius, on a long journey. Their purpose was to try to persuade the emperor of Germany as well as the kings of France and England to lead new crusades and send new armies so that they could defend the Holy Land against Saladin.