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

   “Your word is not good enough for me Father Anzac. You will swear it on the true Crown. You will each place your hand on the holy treasure and give your word,” replied the Cardinal.

  Until now, just like the gifts of God before it, the retrieved Treasure of Christ had remained hidden from all of them and remained in its case. Robert was stunned at the priest’s answer. To place his hand on a true holy Treasure was beyond his wildest dreams.

  Father Anzac’s silent stare lasted a few minutes before he answered.

   “Very well, on behalf of my Brothers here present, we accept.”

  All sound seemed to have stopped as the priest began to unfold the thin layer of cloth that was entwined around the casing. Robert glanced up at the circle of knights, who gathered around the unplanned ritual. The flickering light of the fire’s flames, played tricks upon their faces but each man seemed to carry a different expression.

  For the Cardinal there was only one, hunger for power. For the priest, it was almost a tired interest. For Robert and his fellow Brothers, a muddle of excitement, curiosity and for one of them, fear.

  The perfectly preserved casket was revealed and every man seemed to be holding their breath. Anzac slowly prised open the lid and the seven men gasped as the true Crown was revealed. Although hidden in the shadow of the men’s craning necks, the perfect circlet of gold seemed to glow.

  Robert noted the slim band of iron that lay within the larger circle of gold on the outer layer. This iron band had been created from one of the cruel nails that had pinioned Jesus to the cross. Iron and gold forged together to make a treasure men had searched through time for.

   “Almost a perfect replica,” whispered the Cardinal.

  Robert guessed that Esca was referring to the Crown currently in the possession of either the Italian Kings or the Vatican.

   “Except less gems,” answered Sir Edward drily.

  Sir Edward had mentioned to Robert back in Toledo that he had seen the Crown once during the coronation of the King of Lombardy.

  They continued to gaze in awe at the magnificent Treasure that sat upon a layer of faded blue silk. Finally the silence was broken by the Cardinal.

   “Now, as we agreed. My life for the information but only if you swear on the Crown of Crowns,” he said.

  Except for the fabled crown of thorns that had rested upon the head of Christ, to the warrior monks of Christendom and the servants of the church, no matter what their status, this Crown would make any other in the world worthless.

  It was Anzac who was the first brave enough to honour their agreement with the back-stabbing cleric. But to touch such a symbol of power could cause catastrophe. Even Esca would have agreed. Only the worthy could hold such a gift left by the son of God. Instead, the priest hovered his hand over the open casket and the priceless jewel inside.

   “I swear on the true Crown, equal to only that which sat upon the son of God himself, that I will commit no violence or harm to this man, Cardinal Matthias Esca of Venice. I swear I will not betray this solemn oath and will give my life if needs be.”

  One by one each man made the same vow. When Robert spoke the words, he felt a cold feeling of darkness as if he were betraying all those who had been harmed by the man who was more servant of the devil than follower of the Almighty.

  As he finished the oath there was a bitter taste in his mouth. As finally Reynard and the last of the men gathered to say the words Robert rose to his feet and walked away for dome comfort in solitude.

   “And now you,” said Anzac firmly turning to the disgraced cleric.

   “Me?” answered the Cardinal.

   “You will now swear on the true Crown that the words you will now speak are true words and may God have mercy on your soul if you dare break that oath.”

  With the help of the moonlight, Robert was able to find the jagged line of the mountains beyond the flat plains. Slowly the feeling of sickening betrayal started to die away.

   “There is no need for regret. His time is close, I can assure you,” came the voice of Schaffer.

  Sir Frederick came to stand alongside him.

   “You would break your vow?” whispered Robert in surprise.

   “No. Anzac and I have risked much in the service of the Brotherhood, but to break a vow would darken one’s path for eternity.”

  The two stood in silence for a moment, Robert mulling over the Brother Knight’s words.

   “But a man such as Esca, there will be many who will want his life to give out.”

A few minutes passed before they were summoned back to the fire where the others awaited them. The casket had been closed and Anzac was wrapping it in the tattered material that had kept it safe while it had remained safely hidden for so long. Robert highly doubted he would ever see the Holy Treasure again and part of him did not want to.

   “Well your Eminence. My Brothers and I have fulfilled our side of the agreement,” prompted the priest.

   “The Cathars,” said Esca bluntly.

  There was a faint sign of amusement on the Cardinal’s face.

  Robert had heard stories of the Cathars of Languedoc. He knew the Roman Catholic Church referred to the Cathar beliefs as the ‘Great Heresy’, but those stories were faded and unclear and the vow that he had made was worth far more than just two