The Crusader's Crown (Tales of the Brotherhood Series Book 1) James Mercer (ebook reader that looks like a book .TXT) 📖

   “To decide what strategy to play? The long game, the short game. Where and when to move ones pieces? Which piece is one prepared to sacrifice?”

  Anzac was no longer looking at the Cardinal but looking into the fire.

   “Truly masterful,” he said.

  While the rest of his compatriots remained silent, the aging cleric reached into his robe and withdrew a small wineskin. Prising open the small cork he took a quick draught before returning it beneath his robe.

   “The Order knight Chevalier tells me that you claim that it was from newly discovered scriptures from the Vatican that put you on the path to the Crown?”

   “For all his ignorance, Chevalier is correct,” answered the Cardinal.

   “You see your eminence, I believe different. I believe there is another player on the board. A player who you have not yet shared with us. Not with your deceased Templar ally Garcia, nor your friends in the Order.”

  The Cardinal said nothing. The second part of the priest’s remark, regarding his soiled relationship with the Order was supposed to goad him. But he would not give them the satisfaction.

   “After your failed attempt in Constantinople and then England it is unlikely the Order would only have sought you out to have your head. But to recover all that you had lost, you were prepared to accept any offer from another, am I correct?”

  This time there was a slight change in the Cardinal’s expression and Robert sensed that Anzac had guessed right.

   “But the new participant to the board would only partake so much, for they wished to continue to remain in the shadows. Hence why you sought out the support of Garcia.”

   “You have an inquisitive imagination Father Anzac,” answered Esca.

  Ignoring the Cardinal’s words, Anzac continued.

   “But how did you hear of Garcia? How did you know that more detailed writings about the Crown had been stored in the Monastery of Saint Michael? That was done before you and Garcia had even made contact with the Order.”

  The priest spoke as if he were talking to no one but himself.

   “No this participant in the shadows held as much information as the Brotherhood or the Order and we both know there are not many  who are so fortunate.

   “But why stay silent?” asked Sir Elizondo curiously.

  It was then Schaffer’s turn to speak up.

   “Because the rest of the pieces on the board were already moving. You have a desperate cleric, prepared to do anything to regain what he once had. You have a power-hungry knight willing to break his vows and align himself with the serpent cleric. Then you have Alexander Pierron and his Order whose power, wealth and influence only supports their cause. And then you finally have the Brotherhood who are sworn to protect the Treasures of Christ.”

  Father Anzac nodded in approval at Schaffer’s supposition and allowed his comrade to continue.

   “Sooner or later the three factions will encounter each other. All of them weakened from losses and in Garcia’s case wiped from the board. But all the while the silent player awaits the return of the weakened victor.”

   “Precisely,” said an impressed Anzac. “It seems a bolt in the arm has improved your intelligence.”

  The remark brought a smile to the group around the fire including a grunt from Schaffer.

   “So this unmoved piece upon the board. Where is it?” said Robert.

   “I have a feeling that is what we are about to find out,” murmured Reynard, staring straight at the Cardinal.

   “But why bring in the Order?” continued Robert.

  Then it dawned on him.

   “The Order had enough influence to encourage the Crusade. The missing piece is within the Crusader Army?”

  Esca said nothing, instead he merely smiled. It was vicious and deceitful.

   “I must commend you Father Anzac. Your intelligence proves you could have risen far in the church had you wanted?” he said finally.

   “You flatter me your eminence. But power has never been something I yearn for,” replied Anzac.

   “Do not take me for a fool Anzac,” sneered the Cardinal. “You say that you do not want for power. When it is you and your brethren who hold some of the most powerful weapons known to mankind?”

   “And it is there you are wrong,” growled Anzac.

  It was the first time the more savage side of the priest was shown.

   “If my Brothers and I wanted power, we would do with them just as you, the Order and many others would. But instead we hide them away from such greed and wanting. If you are saying that knowledge is power. Then yes, I am one of the most powerful men in Christendom.”

  The Cardinal glared at the priest.

   “What terms do you offer?” he said.

   “Terms?” snarled Schaffer. “You expect us to offer terms after the atrocities you have committed?”

  Robert knew Schaffer was referring to Sir Marcus.

   “All of it was in the service of God,” replied the Cardinal piously.

  Before the conversation could continue, Father Anzac intervened.

   “Your eminence, Sir Reynard told me that on the battlefield before Bridgenorth castle, you burned a man alive. Was that in the service for God?”

  This time it was the Cardinal who remained silent.

   “He also tells me that the mercenaries who stand guard around us this night were that man’s brothers-in-arms. What do you think they will do if they were to discover it was you who administered such an atrocity?”

  In the flickering light, Robert could see that the Cardinal’s sallow skin had paled.

   “So I will offer you these terms,” continued the priest. “You will tell us the name of this mysterious participant and we will