From Rome Gérard de Ridefort had brought with him the group of new high brothers who would now take over the leadership of the Knights Templar in the Holy Land. They rode to Jerusalem at once.
Jerusalem’s Master Arn de Gothia was informed about his high-ranking guests only a few hours in advance. He had a few words with Father Louis about the misfortune that had befallen them, then he prayed for a long time in his inner sanctum, which was like a cell in a Cistercian cloister. But otherwise he had no time to do much except make the necessary preparations for the arrival of the Grand Master in Jerusalem.
When the Grand Master and his lofty retinue, with almost all the knights bearing a black band around their horse’s side armor and their mantles, arrived at Jerusalem they were received by two files of white-clad knights who stood lined up all the way from the Damascus Gate to the Templar quarter. There large torches burned at the entrance and the banquet tables were waiting in the great knights’ hall.
Arn de Gothia, who greeted them outside the grand staircase, fell to his knees and bowed his head before he took the Grand Master’s horse by the reins to show that he was no more than a stable boy for Gérard de Ridefort. It was thus prescribed by the Rule.
Gérard de Ridefort was in a radiant mood, pleased with his reception. He settled into his seat in the king’s place at the table in the knights’ hall and at once allowed himself and his high brothers to be served. He spoke loudly and at great length about how delightful it was to be back in Jerusalem.
Arn, on the other hand, was not in such a good mood and was having a hard time concealing his feelings. What seemed worst to him was not that he had to obey the slightest gesture of a man whom everyone described as illiterate, vengeful, and unworthy, and who had not served half the time that Arn had served as a Templar knight. The worst thing was that the Knights Templar now had a Grand Master who was a sworn enemy of the regent, Count Raymond. With that the clouds of unrest began gathering again over the Holy Land.
After the meal when most of the guests had been shown to their quarters, the Grand Master ordered Arn and another two men whom Arn did not know to accompany him to his private rooms. Gérard de Ridefort was still in a very good mood, almost as if he were looking forward with special joy to the rapid changes he now intended to implement.
He sat down with pleasure in Arn’s normal seat, pressed his splayed fingertips against each other, and regarded the three men for a moment in silence. They all remained standing.
“Tell me, Arn de Gothia…that is what you are called, is it not? Tell me, you and Arnoldo de Torroja were very close, I understand?” he said at last, in a voice that was so deliberately smooth that the hatred was quite audible.
“Yes, Grand Master, that is true,” replied Arn.
“And one might assume that was why he elevated you to Jerusalem’s Master?” asked the Grand Master, cheerfully raising his eyebrows as if he had just had a bright idea.
“Yes, Grand Master, that may have played a role. A Grand Master in our order appoints whomever he likes,” said Arn.
“Good! A very good answer,” said the Grand Master with satisfaction. “What pleased my predecessor in that respect will also please me. Here next to you stands James de Mailly. He has served as fortress master at Cressing in England. As you can see, he wears a fortress master’s mantle.”
“Yes, Grand Master,” said Arn without expression.
“Then I propose that the two of you exchange mantles; you look to be about the same size!” commanded the Grand Master, his tone still cheerful.
As was the custom of the Knights Templar, they had eaten with their mantles fastened around their necks, so that it took only a moment’s work to bow to the Grand Master as a sign of submission and exchange mantles and thus rank and position in the Order of the Knights Templar.
“So, now you’re a fortress master again!” said Gérard de Ridefort with satisfaction. “It pleased your friend Arnoldo to send me off up to the fortress of Chastel-Blanc. What would you say if you were to take over my old post?”
“As you command, so shall I obey, Grand Master. But I would rather take over my old post as fortress master in Gaza,” replied Arn in a low but steady voice.
“Gaza!” the Grand Master burst out, amused. “That’s merely an out-of-the-way speck compared with Chastel-Blanc. But if that is your wish, I shall grant it. When can you leave Jerusalem?”
“Whenever is convenient for you, Grand Master.”
“Good! Shall we say tomorrow after lauds?”
“As you command, Grand Master.”
“Excellent, then you can go. Jerusalem’s Master and I have a number of important affairs to discuss. I bless you and wish you good night.”
The Grand Master turned away from Arn as if he expected the man to vanish into thin air. But Arn remained where he was. Then the Grand Master feigned surprise at finding him still there, and waved his hand as if to inquire the reason.
“It is my duty to report one thing to you, Grand Master, a fact that I may not convey to anyone but you and whoever is Jerusalem’s Master, and that is now Brother James.”
“If Arnoldo gave you such instructions, I waive them immediately. A living Grand Master takes precedence over a dead one. So what does this concern?” asked Gérard de Ridefort with clear scorn in his voice.
“The instructions come not from Arnoldo but from the Holy Father in Rome,” replied Arn in a low voice, careful not to respond to the derisive tone.
For the first time the new Grand Master’s excessive self-assurance faltered. He gave Arn a doubtful look before he realized that Arn was serious, and then nodded to the third brother to leave the room.
Arn went to the archive located several rooms away and fetched the papal bull describing the fact that the patriarch Heraclius was an assassin, and also how this secret must be preserved. When he returned he unrolled the text and placed it on the table before the Grand Master, bowed, and took a step back.
The Grand Master glanced at the bull, recognizing the papal seal; he also realized that he could not read the text because it was in Latin. He therefore had no choice; he had to humble himself and ask Arn to read it and translate, which Arn did without showing a hint of surprise.
Both the Grand Master and his new Jerusalem’s Master James de Mailly lost their good humor immediately when they heard the bad news. Heraclius was the man who had campaigned harder than anyone in the Church for Gérard de Ridefort to become Grand Master. As a result the new Grand Master now owed a debt of gratitude to a known poisoner.
Arn was waved away, and he left the Grand Master at once after giving a deep bow. It was with an unexpected feeling of relief that Arn now went to seek lodging for the night among the guest rooms, for it had struck him that he had only a little more than a year left of his penance. He would soon have served nineteen of the twenty years that he had sworn to complete in the Order of the Knights Templar.
This was a new and foreign thought for him. Until the precise moment when he had been dismissed by the new Grand Master Gérard de Ridefort and for the last time walked through the high-ceilinged halls in the quarters of the Knights Templar in Jerusalem, he had avoided counting the years, months, and days. Possibly because it was more than likely that he would be sent to Paradise by the enemy long before he had managed to serve his twenty years.
But now there was only a year left, and a peace accord was in place for the next several years with Saladin. There was no war on the horizon in the coming year. So he might survive after all; he might at last travel home.
Never before had he felt such a strong longing for home. At the start of his time in the Holy Land the twenty years had seemed such an eternity that it was impossible to imagine himself living beyond that point. And in recent years he had been much too busy with his blessed work as Jerusalem’s Master to imagine another life for himself. On that evening, not long ago, he had sat in the rooms where Gérard de Ridefort now ruled, discussing the future of the Holy Land with Count Raymond, Prince Bohemund, Roger des Moulins, and the d’Ibelin brothers. On that evening all the power in the Holy Land and Outremer was together in the same room, and the future had looked bright. Together they had been able to conclude peace with Saladin.