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

the Commander asked Ruscar if he could find somewhere to water the horses. Before the mighty warrior led their mounts off to quench their thirst, the two of them retrieved a small bundle each from the satchels that were strapped to their saddles.

  Making their way to the door of the chapel, Robert took a quick glance around to reassure himself that they weren’t being watched.

   “I’d pity the fools who would try and sneak up on us with Ruscar standing in the shadows,” said the Commander.

  It was as if he had read Robert’s thoughts.

  Knocking on the door, he waited until it opened to reveal a burly looking friar. He was nearly as tall as Robert and as broad as Hamish.

   “Nos defendant ……,” said the Commander quietly.

   “We are short of time my lord,” said the friar abruptly, who opened the door enough to allow them in.

  It was then that Robert saw the heavy, wooden cudgel in the man’s hand and strapped to his belt was a long bladed sax. This was no friar.

   “They await you in the chamber,” said the fraud clergyman.

  The two of them hastily donned their Brotherhood cloaks. Robert could hear the door close and the scrape of metal as a heavy bolt was slid across to bar any intruders. Making their way to the rear of the chapel they could see a black curtain to the left of the small altar. Reynard continued forward and pulled it aside.

  Robert stepped through into a large, square room with a table at its centre and a dozen empty chairs surrounding it.

   “So they finally arrive,” came the gruff voice of Father Anzac

   “Father Anzac! We were expecting to receive word from you at Gijon,” answered Reynard while he shook his hand. “Unfortunately we were waylaid, to put it mildly.”

   “I understand there was an attempt to capture you while on the road. The Order?”

   “Not the Order Father. But that can wait until we are seated.”

   “Very well. Sir Robert, it is good to see you again,” the priest said shaking his hand.

   “And I you Father Anzac. You are well I trust?”

   “I am old. But as well as can be in these difficult times. Now, let me introduce you to some new Brothers who have joined us.”

  When Robert observed the other men who congregated near the table, he recognised some of them. There was Sir Frederick Schaffer looking as jolly as ever. Sir Quintos Elizondo, the Templar knight who smiled and nodded his head in welcome, which Robert returned.

  To his surprise, there was also Sir Edward, and Sir Arnaud Taillefer, known by some as ‘The Master of the Keys’. Both knights he had encountered back in Sicily at Di’ Vinere castle.

   “Sir Reynard, Sir Robert. This is Sir Guillame Fitzbois and Sir Eugene Archambeau, both knights of the Order of Calatrava. And this is Count Rolf Kendricks, formerly of the Knights Hospitaller, but now a Master of the Order of Santiago.”

   “I was sorry to hear of the fall of the Salvatierra Brothers. I hope in this campaign, we can take back your home for you,” said Reynard.

   “As do we Sir Reynard. We thank you for your support in our cause,” replied Sir Guillame.

  The two late arrivals greeted the other Brothers one by one. The swift handshake between Reynard and the Master of the Keys was progress. Sir Arnaud had been Reynard’s well respected mentor, but over the years their relationship had become severely fractured, so much so that on their last encounter they had come to blows.

   “You are both well?” enquired the aged knight cautiously.

   “We are Sir Arnaud and yourself?” said Reynard.

   “The years are closing upon me. My lord has gone, his castle has fallen and now I trail from shadow to shadow. But soon we shall exact our revenge on the heathens,” he growled, pounding a clenched fist into the palm of the other hand.

  Robert knew full well that when the Master of the Keys referred to ‘the heathens’ he did not mean the Almohads.

   “Brothers. Shall we begin?” said Father Anzac.

  The last time Robert had attended such a meeting of the Brotherhood, he had been a renegade and an outlaw. A young mercenary who was just trying to survive. Now, just like when he had met with Alfonso and Hamish, after nearly eight years, he sat with these men as an equal. A knight of the Turin Shroud Brotherhood.

  Anzac had never been a man to mince his words. Although a clergyman, he was prepared to do what was necessary to protect the Treasures of Christ.

   “You may wonder why so many of you have been summoned to join this Crusade,” he started. “Some of you are already aware that the Order have a new ally. A rogue Templar knight by the name of Sir Alejandro Garcia. Sir Elizondo, if you would?”

   “Thank you Father Anzac.”

  The Templar knight stood from his chair and looked at his fellows that surrounded the table.

   “For at least a year, we believe that Garcia has been recruiting followers to bolster his force. Although they too wear the mantle of the Templars, I have discovered that some are neither Templars nor members of The Blooded Cross Order. They are men who are only interested in wealth and power.”

   “Garcia has been chosen to command the garrison at the castle of Ponferrada. It is said that Sir Gomes Ramires, the Templar Master from the Kingdom of Portugal has tasked him with strengthening its fortifications. We have since heard that they are constructing a network of tunnels that adjoin to at least one other of our strongholds in the region.”

   “Is the Templar Master of the Portugal Chapter