"Robert, we chose to become Templars, and we cannot and must not cling to the things of the past."
"Oh, my brother! You have always been too severe with yourself!"
'And you, tell me, how is it you have a Saracen squire?"
"I have come to know the Saracens and respect them. There are wise men among them, men of nobility, and chivalry, and honor. They are formidable enemies, whom one must respect. I confess, I have friends among them. It is impossible not to, when we share lands and there is need to have quiet dealings with them. The Grand Master has asked us all to learn their language and has asked some of us, who have an appearance suitable for it, to learn their customs so that we may live in their territory, in their cities, to spy, observe, or carry out missions for the greater glory of the Temple and Christianity. My skin has become yet darker in the sun of the East, and the black of my hair also helps me disguise my true nature. As for their language, I must confess that it has not been hard for me to understand it and write it. I had a good teacher, the squire who accompanies me. Remember, brother, I joined the Temple at an early age, and it was Guillaume de Sonnac who ordered the youngest of us to learn from the Saracens so we might mingle freely with them.
"But you ask about Ali, my squire. He is not the only Muslim who has dealings with the Temple. His town was destroyed by the Crusaders. He and two other children managed to survive. Guillaume de Sonnac found them wandering several days' journey on horseback from Acre. Ali, the youngest of them, was exhausted and delirious from fever. The Grand Master took them to our fortress, where they recovered. And there they remained."
'And they have been loyal to you?"
"Guillaume de Sonnac would allow them to pray to Allah and use them as intermediaries. They have never betrayed us."
"What about Renaud de Vichiers?"
"I do not know, but he made no objection to our traveling here alone with Ali and Said."
"Well, brother, you must rest, and send me Francois de Charney, the brother who has come with you."
"I shall."
Once Andre de Saint-Remy was alone he unrolled the scrolls given him by his brother, and he studied the orders sent by Renaud de Vichiers, the new Grand Master of the Order of the Temple.
The large bedroom resembled a small throne room. The scarlet curtains, the soft cushions, the carved table, the crucifix of pure gold, and other objects of hammered silver spoke eloquently of the wealth in which their occupant lived.
On a small table to one side, several decanters of carved crystal held spiced wine, and on an enormous tray were arranged a colorful variety of sweets from the kitchen of a nearby monastery.
The bishop listened impassively, almost aloofly, to Pascal de Molesmes, who had come again in lieu of Balduino. For an hour the French nobleman had wielded every argument at his command in an attempt to convince the bishop to turn the Mandylion over to the emperor.
The bishop had great love for Balduino; he knew there was kindness in his heart, even though his reign had been marked by a long succession of misadventures. But he was lost in his own thoughts.
Pascal de Molesmes paused in his plea when he realized that the bishop had stopped listening. The sudden silence broke the bishop's reverie.
"I have listened to you and I understand your reasoning, but the king of France cannot barter the fate of Constantinople for possession of the Mandylion," he told the nobleman.
"Our most Christian king has promised the emperor aid; if it is not possible to purchase the Mandylion, he wishes, at least, to hold it for some time. Louis is desirous that his Christian mother, Dona Blanca de Castilla, contemplate the true visage of our Lord Jesus Christ. The Church will not lose possession of the Mandylion, and it could profit by this agreement, Your Excellency, in addition to helping relieve Constantinople from the penury that it now suffers. Believe me, your interests and those of the emperor are the same."
"No, my son, they are not. It is the emperor who needs gold in order to save what remains of the empire."
"Constantinople is dying; the empire is more fiction than reality-someday Christians will weep over its loss."
"Seigneur de Molesmes, I know you to be too intelligent to try to convince me that only the Mandylion can save Constantinople. How much has King Louis offered just to hold it-how much to possess it? It would take great amounts of gold to save this kingdom, and the king of France is rich, but he will not ruin his own kingdom financially, no matter how much he loves his nephew or desires the Mandylion."
De Molesmes's throat was parched. He had not even tasted the glass of no doubt superb Rhodes wine that the bishop had offered him. But such were the sacrifices of diplomacy.
"If the amount was considerable enough, would Your Excellency consent to its sale or lending?"
"No. Tell the emperor that I will not surrender it to him. That is my final word. Pope Innocent would excommunicate me. For many years the pope has desired to possess the Mandylion, and I have always put him off by arguing against exposing the shroud to the perils of such a journey. I would need the Holy Father's permission, and even in the unlikely event he were to consider granting it, you know that he would name a high | price-a price that, even should Louis be able to pay, i would be for the Church, not for his nephew the emperor.
Pascal de Molesmes decided to play his last card. "I remind you, Your Excellency, that the Mandylion does not belong to you. It was the troops of the emperor Romanus Lecapenus who brought it to Constantinople, and the empire has never renounced its ownership of the cloth. The Church is but a repository for the Mandylion. Balduino bids you turn it over voluntarily, and he shall be generous with you and with the Church."
De Molesmes's words fell like lead on the bishop's spirit.
'Are you threatening me, Seigneur de Molesmes? Is the emperor threatening the Church?"
"Balduino, as you well know, is a most loving and beloved son of the Church, which he would defend with his own life if need be. The Mandylion is part of the empire's legacy, and the emperor is claiming it. I urge you to do your duty"
"My duty is to defend the image of Christ and preserve it for all Christianity."
"You did not oppose the sale of the crown of thorns, which was kept in the monastery of Pantocrator, to the king of France."
'Ah, Seigneur de Molesmes. Do you honestly believe that that was Jesus' crown of thorns?"
"You do not?"
A look of fury came into the bishop's blue eyes. The tension between the two men was rising, and both knew that at any moment the bonds of civility might break
"Seigneur de Molesmes, nothing you have said has changed my mind. You may tell that to the emperor."
Pascal de Molesmes bowed his head. The duel had ended for the moment, but both men knew that neither victory nor defeat could be declared on either side.
At the gate of the bishop's palace, de Molesmes's servants were waiting beside his horse, a stallion as black as night, his most trusted companion in turbulent Constantinople.
Would he advise Balduino to go with his soldiers to the bishop's palace and force him to turn over the Mandylion? There was no other choice, it seemed. Innocent would never dare excommunicate Balduino, much less when he knew that the Mandylion would be in the keeping of the most Christian king Louis IX of France. They would lend it to Louis and they would put a high price on it, so that the empire might recover at least part of its lost glory.