“And they were rewarded?” asked Blackbird.
“Hardly,” said Claire. “The knights were Templars — Poor Soldier Knights of Christ and the Order of the Temple of Solomon — it’s a misleading title. They were hardly poor, being sons of noble families of vast wealth and power. Neither were they simple soldiers. They were well-equipped, highly trained and exceptionally skilled. If anyone could stop the Seventh Court, they could.”
“But they didn’t,” said Blackbird.
“No, they didn’t. But the crown was grateful for what they accomplished. And as crowns will, showed gratitude in ways that were two-handed. They received lands and charters, the gateway to further wealth and power, and they were honoured with certain duties — the assurance that a certain ceremony would be performed, come what may, at sword-point if necessary.”
“The Quit Rents…” said Blackbird.
“Six elite knights were chosen, one for each court of the Feyre. Six families were selected to guard the ceremony down the years. One family was too fragile. One dynasty might be subverted, or bribed, or threatened — but six. That was a good number.”
“Which families?” asked Blackbird.
“You see now why this is secret,” said Claire. “With the knowledge of the families you can find the guardians. You could subvert them, bribe them, eliminate them. But you would have to know who they were, first.”
“How do you know?” asked Blackbird.
“Officially, I don’t. It is not good for me to know. It is better that I simply know they are there. When the time of the ceremony draws near, they deliver the knives and the nails. I don’t know where they’re kept at other times, and that’s by design. I can’t reveal what I don’t know.”
“We have to find them,” said Alex.
“Find them how?” asked Katherine. “We don’t even know who they are, do we?”
“I have the journals, so we know one of the names,” said Claire. “The horseshoes are rendered in respect of a forge in Tweezers Alley. The forge was on a corner of the Templar’s field and was owned by Walter le Brun. He was one of them. That’s as much as I’m supposed to know.”
“Supposed to know?” asked Blackbird.
“Before he went to Australia, Jerry told me something. We were talking about the ceremony, about why it wasn’t right.”
“Go on…” said Blackbird.
“He said that the ceremony had devolved to the clerks, but that the protection of the ceremony was still the duty of the Queen’s Remembrancer. Each year, at the ceremony, they hold up the horseshoes to be counted, but it’s not the horseshoes they’re counting. There are people in the audience who make themselves known to the Remembrancer as a sign of their continued fidelity and service. If there are enough, the Remembrancer announces Good Number, and the ceremony is complete for the year.”
“And how many were at this year’s ceremony?” asked Blackbird.
“I don’t know,” said Claire, “but Jerry wasn’t happy.”
“Can’t we just look up le Brun up in the phone book? What about the Internet?”
“That was in 1245,” said Claire. “The family lines have merged and divided. There’s no guarantee that anyone called Le Brun would know anything about this.”
“Then they could all be long dead,” said Katherine.
“The point was not that he was the protector,” said Claire, “but that the duty devolved to his line. His successors would take on the duty, and their successors, and so on, down the years.”
“So where are the Templars now?” asked Alex.
“They don’t exist. The order was disbanded in 1307 by Philip IV of France, who seized the assets. A papal bull was issued, dissolving the order. Many of them were killed, a number were tortured. Not in England, though. Edward II disputed the French crown’s claim to the assets and the assets in England were gifted to the Order of St John, the Knights Hospitaler. They were succeeded by the Societies of the Inns of Court, which gave us Lincoln’s Inn, Gray’s Inn, Inner Temple and Middle Temple.”
“Temple?” said Alex. “Isn’t that the same as Templars?”
“Technically, yes,” said Claire, “The Templars were named after the Temple of Solomon in Jerusalem, and Temple in London was named after the order. Nowadays, Inner and Middle Temple are the associations to which court barristers belong. Their idea of a test of strength is to put their case before a judge, and then have a glass of something in a wine bar with the opposition afterwards. There are no Templars in Temple now.”
“Are you sure?” asked Blackbird.
“It crossed my mind,” said Claire, “But then I would have expected to see them at the ceremony. The odd barrister does turn up, but they generally sit in the upper gallery and watch. Most of the people that come are from the City for the investiture of the Sheriffs of the City of London.”
“What about the Remembrancer,” said Blackbird. “Does he know who they are?”
“The whole idea is that neither of us know who they are, and then we can’t betray them. They protect us, and in return they too are protected.”
“I don’t get it,” said Alex. “What are they for? I mean, they turn up and all that, but why?”
“Why does the testing of two knives, one blunt and one sharp, create a barrier between the worlds?” said Blackbird. “Claire, in your bag you carry a horseshoe, do you not?”
Claire nodded.
“Would you show it to us?” asked Blackbird.
“I thought it was… impolite,” said Claire.
“Just this once,” said Blackbird.
Claire reached down and opened her bag, extracting the heavy iron horseshoe which looked massive in her delicate hands. Alex hissed, while Blackbird looked distinctly uncomfortable.
“Alex, what is it?” said Katherine, looking suddenly worried.
“Katherine, would you take the horseshoe from Claire?”
“I wouldn’t normally allow…” said Claire.
“As a test,” said Blackbird.
Claire handed the heavy shoe to Katherine who took it in both hands. Blackbird watched Alex, whose expression had the look of someone who’d expected wine and found themselves to be drinking vinegar.
“What is it, sweetheart?” said Katherine. “It’s heavy, but…”
“Take it from her,” Blackbird said to Alex.
“No!” said Alex.
“It’s only a horseshoe,” said Blackbird.
“You do it then, if that’s all it is,” Alex challenged.
Blackbird smiled slowly. “It is only a horseshoe. They are only a couple of knives. It is only a hazel rod, and yet there is power in it. Why does the testing of two knives set a barrier between the worlds? As my friend Gregor would tell you, ritual itself is important, method is as important as means. Having the knights at the ceremony is part of the ritual. They are symbols, and symbols are important.”
“And if they’re not there?” asked Katherine, handing the horseshoe back to Claire with a sidelong look at her daughter’s sour expression.
“Then the symbol is absent, and the ritual is incomplete.”
“One of them arranged for the delivery of the knives and the nails before the ceremony,” said Claire. “And arranged for them to be taken away afterwards. That’s all I know.”
“How do you know if it’s one of them?” asked Blackbird. “What if they were substituted?”
“There are certain forms that must be followed — oaths to be sworn while each of us is holding one of the horseshoes” Claire explained. “No one fey could swear that oath under those circumstance, and no one else knows the oath that’s sworn. Someone fey could extract the oath from us, but they’d never be able to swear it holding the horseshoe.”
“That still doesn’t help us find them,” said Blackbird, “but it does mean that the nails and the knives are probably safe for now. The horseshoes are a different matter. You have one, and there’s another in your flat.”
“The rest were in the safe, wherever that is,” said Claire. “We still have no way of contacting the keepers of the nails or the knives, though. We need to warn them or we may yet lose them all, assuming they still exist.”