But the truth is, Ana, all you're talking to me about is 'hunches' and 'intuitions' and 'feelings.' What you're telling me, well told, could be an interesting story for a magazine, but nothing you've told me is based on real proof-it's all just obscure family connections. I'm sorry, really, but if I found a story like this in a newspaper, I wouldn't believe it. I'd think it was yarn-spinning by one of those people who write about UFOs and see the image of the Virgin Mary in pepperoni pizzas."
Ana couldn't hide her disappointment, although deep inside she knew Jean was right. Nevertheless, she raised her chin and responded in a tone as serious as his own.
"I'm not going to give up, Jean. If it turns out I don't find solid proof, I won't publish a word-that's the promise I made at the beginning and I'm making again right now. That way I won't disappoint people like you who've helped me. But I'm going to continue to track this story down if it kills me. I haven't told you, but I know a modern-day de Charny right now, a gallant 'knight' of sorts if I've ever seen one."
"Who is he?"
'A very handsome, very interesting, very mysterious man, who just so happens to have visited the old family home in the past few years. I'm going to Paris; it'll be easier for me to get in touch with his family there, if it is his family."
Jean put his hand over hers on the table. "I'd go with you if I could, Ana, but I know there's not a chance they'd give me the vacation time right now. But the second best thing is, I have a friend in Paris who might be able to help. He's originally from here, Troyes. were at the university together. He moved to Paris and got his doctorate in history at the Sorbonne. He's even taught there some. But he fell in love with a Scottish reporter, and in less than three years he turned around and got another degree, in journalism, and now they have a magazine: Enigmas. It's not my kind of thing- they publish speculative stuff on history, unsolved mysteries, you know. And they have genealogists, historians, scientists who write for them. We haven't seen each other in years, practically since he got married. His wife had some kind of accident and they haven't been back here. But he's a good friend of mine, and he'll talk to you. I'll call him."
He blushed as Ana leaned across the table to kiss him on the cheek. "Jean, you've been wonderful. Thank you," she said. 'After Paris I think I'll head back to Turin, depending on what else I find. I'll call you and keep you posted. You know, you're the only person I've been able to talk to honestly about this, and I'll count on your good common sense to keep a rein on my wild fantasies."
48
The Templar knight spurred his horse. In the near distance he could make out the Guadiana River and the battlements of Castro Marim. He had ridden without rest from Paris, where he had pow-erlessly watched as the Grand Master and his brothers were burned at the stake.
In his ears still echoed the deep voice of Jacques de Molay calling down God's judgment on Philippe le Beau and Pope Clement. He had not the slightest doubt that God would have His revenge for the murder of His faithful servants by the king of France and the pope, that He would not let this abominable crime go unpunished.
They had taken Jacques de Molay's life from him but not his dignity, for there had never been a man as brave and upright in the last moments of his life.
He paid what the boatman asked to ferry him across the river, and once on the Portuguese side he rode quickly to the chapter house that had been his home for the last three years, since he had returned from his battles in Egypt and the defense of Cyprus.
Master Jose Sa Beiro received Joao de Tomar immediately. He asked him to be seated and offered him cool water to relieve the thirst of the road. The superior then sat with the knight to listen to the news he had brought from Paris.
For two hours de Tomar gave a vivid account of the last days of the Temple and especially of March 19, that black day on which Jacques de Molay and the last Templars were burned at the stake under the harsh gaze of the commoners and court in Paris. Appalled and horrified by the account, the master had to call upon all the dignity of his position in order to not let his emotion spill over.
Philippe le Beau had sentenced the Temple, if not its knights, to death, and for the next weeks all across Europe the pope's command to suppress the order was relentlessly carried out. The knights were to be tried in ecclesiastical courts in every Christian nation. In some kingdoms they would be absolved, while in others the pope's orders would be interpreted to allow the knights to join other religious orders.
Jose Sa Beiro knew that King Dinis bore no ill will against the Temple and in fact had good intentions toward it, but would the king of Portugal be able to oppose the dictates of the pope? He needed to know, and to find out he would send a knight who might speak to the king on his behalf and so clarify his position.
"I know you are weary, but I must ask you to take on a new mission," he said to de Tomar. "You must go to Lisbon and take a letter to the king. You will tell him all you have seen, leaving out no detail. And you shall await his reply. I will prepare the letter now; meanwhile, go and rest. If possible, you will leave tomorrow."
The sun had not yet risen when Joao de Tomar was called again into the presence of the superior.
Sa Beiro handed him the letter and clasped his shoulder. "To Lisbon now, Joao. May God be with you."
Lisbon was lovely in the first light of dawn. De Tomar had been traveling for several days, for he had had to stop awhile for his horse's hoof to recover from a bruise from a stone on the road. The noble steed was his most trusted and loyal friend, and it had saved his life in more than one battle. He himself put a plaster on the hoof and waited for two days while it healed. He would not exchange the horse for another for anything in the world, even at the risk of being reprimanded by his superior for delay.
With King Dinis, Portugal had become a prosperous nation. His genius had given the country a university, and he was overseeing a profound reformation of agriculture, so that for the first time there was an abundance of wheat and olive oil, and good wine to export.
The king took no more than two days to receive Joao de Tomar, and after presenting Dinis with the letter from Jose Sa Beiro, the Portuguese Templar once more related what he had lived through in Paris.
The king assured the knight that he would reply soon, that he had already had news of the pope's intentions to dissolve the order.
De Tomar knew of the king's good relations with the clergy, with which he had signed an accord a few years earlier. Would he dare stand up to the pope?
It was another three days before the Templar was called once more into the presence of the king. Dinis had made a decision that was wise, even Solomonic. He would not seek a confrontation with the pope, but he would also not persecute the order. Dinis of Portugal had decided that a new order would be formed, the Order of Christ, and that all the Templars would become members, with their same laws and rules, the only exception being that the new order would be under the power of the king, not the pope.