The Templar's Bowl
by
Peter "Lou" D'Alessio
Copyright © 2011
Chapter 4: Romino Tuo Da Gloriam
'Geofray Beaumond'
Of my three companions, he that I was most fond of was Beaumond. Yet of the three, he was of whom I saw the least. Even more so than Hamet, it was he that was entrenched most deeply in the ways of chivalrous knighthood and the ways of Templars. Sums and letters and miracles were all well and good, but the young boy craving adventure ravenously devoured the tales and beliefs of chivalry. It was through Geofray, who's name I pronounced as 'Jeffrey,' that I came to understand to some extent this God fellow and His Templars. Unlike Friar Hamet and Brother Theo, who had taken it upon themselves to put into my head the best and most learned thoughts of their particular times by sitting me down in strict (in a manner of speaking) student-teacher way, Brother Geofray and I went for long talks in the woods by the house. He would guide my chair as we glided along and tutor me in the ways of the sea and ships and the Templar Brotherhood as if there was a clear purpose to my knowing. That is to say, Beaumond spoke in an almost stream of consciousness and I, mesmerized, would listen and absorb the knowledge as best I could; though we at times strolled for all hours of the day or night, never was I missed. I have never understood that, as I was watched as if by hawks.
He was the son of a great lord of France, an educated and recognized engineer and diplomat. Yet all this was but a means to an end, a path to his God. His greatest delight of me was my growing awareness of Templars, and that which they stood for.
"And our pennants? Of what colors were they?"
"White over black, sir."
"And the motto upon't?"
"Not for ourselves, but for God!"
"Again! In Latin!"
"Romino tuo... da Gloriam."
"Excellent, Richard, excellent! And from whence came our garb?"
"Pope Eu...E'uhhuu..."
"Eugenius, God rest him."
"Eugenius said only Knights of the Temple of Solomon could wear the white robe with the Red Cross..."
"Which is called?"
"The Cross Patee... over the left breast, so that on the battlefield all Christians might see and know them and seek their protection!"
"And are you too a Christian, Richard?"
The silence. I never knew how to answer that question. Much of what Hamet had me read was from Scripture, so I now knew of the Jesus and his Apostles and Saints... but was I a Christian?
"Ah! Doubting Thomas, is it? Very well. Of what shall I tell you tonight?"
We had come to the edge of the bay's waters. As the sun lowered into the sea, several small boats filled with boys not much older than I sailed with intent to sneak on to the oak-covered island. I could hear their hushed laughter and see them waving shovels and ropes.
"Why do they go there?" I asked absently. "What is there to find?"
Beaumond rolled me back to drier land and lifted me from my chair. I came to rest against a tree, he putting his great arm about my shoulder to keep me from sliding over.
"Treasure!" he said. "A treasure more vast than their minds can imagine, enough to fill a full dozen and six fully laden vessels, and more. But it is so far beyond the reach of men, so cleverly hidden by earth and sea and by the devout hand of man, that it is beyond reach. And still, it is not the greatest treasure in this place. The greatest treasure is here, but they cannot see it."
"Why can't they see it, sir?"
"Because they believe that a treasure is of gold and silver and precious gems. A treasure is a thing of great value to you, but you must know why it is of great value. Young boys seek power... to own, to hold in their hands, to rule! Foolish."
'Geofray Beaumond'
I Beaumond, second son of the Regent of that place in France called Burgundy, was set upon the earth in the year of our Lord, 1165 AD. I was schooled by a monastery local to my family and sent to the great school in Paris to be educated in Latin and Greek, the languages of my church and the great classics of Homer. Also in French, the language of my homeland, and Saxon English, the language of our holdings to the west. I learned the mathematics of engineering and buildings, and their related crafts. I was also trained for and did enter the knighthood. All things my proud father believed a leader and ruler should possess, though he himself had had little such training and reached his place by force of will and hand.
However, despite all the great benefits offered to me from life, in the year 1186 I renounced all such worldly things. I believed that my truest path to God was to joyously enter the company of the holy knights of the Temple of Solomon, to regain Jerusalem from the infidels of Islam, and in so doing unite all Christendom.
I gave over my worldly possessions (such as they were) and my father, being so honored of his son's choice, donated in my name a great tract of land with its rentals and farms. And so, on the 29th day of September, on the Feast of Saint Michael the Archangel, I and six other initiates knelt in nakedness before the altar in the church of the Templars at La Rochelle. In each our turn, our Abbot approached us and asked, as Peter had been asked, "Do you know this man who is called Jesus by name?" And in our turn, as Peter had betrayed Christ, we answered, "No, I do not!" Three times we were asked, and three times we denied.
"Know ye now, even brave men may become cowards and turn from God in fear of losing this passing life! Only in the God you serve will you find the glory of eternal life—and it is His glory you seek to keep, not yours, betrayers of Christ!" spake the Abbott.
Our Commanders came forward and layed a lash 'cross our backs. As we had taken our knightly vows, our ears had been boxed, and we were told that it was to be the last unanswered blow we would ever have to accept. But our Priest-Abbott sayeth thusly, "O betrayer of Christ, receive you these blows, not in anger but in joy! You suffer as Christ suffered, for all men. It is his life's work you take upon your shoulders."
Amongst us now the Eucharist was taken and we rose as one. We were dressed in undergowns of white and the quilted over-coat was set atop it. Our armour - mail was given us to wear, and the white surcoat with the Cross-Patee was put atop to protect the mail from rust and us from the heat of the sun. On our heads, a cover of mail was placed and an iron helmet upon that. In our hands, the Cruciform swords were placed, the two-handguarded sword in the shape of Christ's Cross - and we stood silent vigil at our crosses. As rose the sun, so we became poor fellow knights of Christ.
"He calls your kind 'The fiery heart of the Enemy!' Did you know that lad?"
I stood before the bed of the king of the English who was more of the French than the English, Richard Coeur de Lion. I could see the sickness in his face. Unlike the knights of Europe who fought as a mob, in close and brutishly, Templars fought the Infidel in formation. And while our European Brothers mocked us for it, Salah el Din and his knights knew well the Templar formation and the fierceness with which we fought. With Frederick of Germany drowned, and the King of France angrily returned home, only Richard's troops and Templars fought fiercely to regain Jerusalem for Holy Pilgrimages.
"Oui, Majesty, I have heard such,"I answered. The tall king of the English struggled to rise from his bed, the fever wracking his body and laying him low.
"Of all the knights in Christendom, he fears you Templars the most - and yet it is a Templar he calls for in my place. Why?"
"I do not know, majesty."
Coeur de Lion looked very old to me now. I had seen him take his troops to battle many times. His heart was truly that of a lion! He would not fail; it was not in his soul to fail. So proud and tall was he in his great metal armour, the great cats on his shield raging at Salah el Din's troops. Could this old man be the same Richard?
"Frenchman, your king..."
"Templars serve no king, save the King of Heaven, Majesty."
"Yes. Brother Geofray, we cannot hold Jerusalem. I know this in my heart. Salah el Din has called for a Templar to meet him, but to what end I know not. His people have no love of Templars, but I have his word that as my envoy you will not be harmed. I dread to ask..."
"A horse is saddled and ready, Majesty."
I rode betwixt a Saracen knight of high standing who said nothing through our long trip - yea, a Prince 'mongst his own by his dress - and one I perceived to be a Holy Man. The Knight was to have stayed in my place, as hostage to my safety. But King Richard was avowed of Chivalry and took Salah el Din on his word, releasing him and me to Salah el Din's word and God's care.
They spoke nothing as we rode to the city gates and off to the desert of the west. When out of view from that rock spur in the dessert that is called Jerusalem, we turned suddenly north and then west again, circumventing the city, to the fertile plains that rise from the coast.
We traveled slowly for the space of a day, but as the desert moon rose slowly, the tents of the Great el Din and the countless fires of his army appeared as a field of shimmering precious stones, spreading for miles as far as the eye beholds.
"Look you, Templar Knight,"the Holy One said as he pointed to the encampment. "See, Christian, the army of the mighty Eagle of the Dessert, may Allah bless his line for one thousand years." He said na'more and we rode on.
I must confess, young Thompson, I was sore afraid! We Templars had an unspoken agreement with the Warriors of Islam. We showed them no mercy, and they none to us. There was no paying of ransom for a fallen or captured poor-fellow Knight as with the European Knights! So many souls of our Order were dispatched in such a way as to inspire us to either win or fall in battle. It had not been that long a time since a Grand Master had been lost in such a way.
I was not taken to the All-Powerful Head of Saracens straight off, but led to a great tent for my use. "Rest,"I was instructed, "and refresh yourself!" But I took neither their food nor water left for me, save a small portion as we Templars may carry with us on such a mission that I carried with me, and spent the rest of the darker hours at vigil, praying to God for the saving of my immortal soul.
The moon had nearly waned when a small entourage entreated for admission. The two I had ridden with, the Holy One and the silent warrior, had returned and 'twixt the two was a man of darker complexion who was not dressed as a king, but as a warrior of the sand.
He stood before me and I could tell he was evaluating the man Richard of England had elected to meet with him. He could see I was of the French, which did not surprise him, knowing that Richard was about as English as William the Conqueror. "Templar,"he said to me in mine own tongue, "Your Richard is ill with fever and a great army is set to fall upon him. Even with Templar help, his Christian army cannot succeed without him. Who will lead them if he dies?"
I knew not what to say, for in truth, such matters were of little or no concern to the common Templar. Such matters were of the Grand Master. I spake slowly, measuring my words as best as my knowing of the Arab tongue would allow. "I am but a humble Templar Knight, such matters are of no import to us as we serve no earthly king save God in heaven and his Pope in Rome."
I watched a faint smile cross his lips. "A simple Knight of the Temple who honors el Din by use of the Saracen tongue. Come, Brother Beaumond. Let us sit." From whence he derived the knowing of my name is still a mystery to me, for neither Richard nor I had spoken it to his emissaries.
"I will not hold you here long, Christian. In fact, you must depart in great haste. Your war will end soon enough, brother Templar, and were it my will you would not loose cheaply. Mark you these words, may Allah know them as truth, I have no love of the men who rape my homelands and cast me out into the desert, for I am all the nations of Islam. Allah has seen to this, his name be praised, and He is with me. But I have found your Richard uncommonly brave and yea, even virtuous. Allah favors such men of war, so by His grace will I. Say to him that when his time has come to return to his home, Salah el Din will give him gracious terms, and so to save his honor, will offer not war and defeat, but honorable truce."
Salah el Din the mighty paused and lifted his hand. The Holy Man placed in it the beads of a Friar of the old Order. "These are... the word? The WORD!" His eyes turned to the Holy man.
"Rosary, oh enlightened one."
"Rosary... beads. The Christian warrior that had wronged his house left them in the keeping of a great Sultan of the Palestine. It was the door opened for friendship, long and hardy between them. Tell the Lion for each bead in the decade of this Rosary, I will offer a year of peace between us that Christian, Jew, and Moslem may pray at the rock of Solomon in the church, temple, or mosque of Jerusalem, Allah be willing. And when that ten has past, let one of your kind come and entreat me for another ten!" He extended his hands with the token of faith to a king he had never really met but believed to be chivalrous.
I extended my hands also to take this magnanimous gift, but the silent warrior of my journey mightily seized my arms at the wrists. His grip was terrible, and I could not break free.
"Who is this warrior to attack me?"I cried out, but Salah el Din lifted his hand and the knight let loose his grip.
"Christian, be at peace, but know this. In the tents of el Din, no man may reach for his personage. This man who is set upon you may do no less than defend me, sworn as he is to his vow, as you are to yours. He is the son of a prince, but he cannot tell you this himself. When told of his mission, he had his tongue cut off, as his faith in your Richard was not as great as mine. A man with no tongue can say very little even when tortured by Christians. If he had not returned, Richard would not have a truce."
I nodded graciously to my silent warrior in acknowledgement of my understanding. We rose and as I placed the Holy Beads in my pouch, Salah el Din stopped abruptly and turned to me.
"Come Brother Beaumond, I have gifts for Richard and your Grand Master."
As we stepped outside the tent, there were three Arabian ponies waiting. One was saddled and the other two laden with ice from the distant mountains and fresh fruit, both commodities scarce in our camp.
"Christian, you were deceived,"he spoke, "Jerusalem is but twelve miles to the east. I did not know of your quality as a man. Take these to the Lion that his fevered brow may be cooled by the ice and his body strengthened by the fruit. I have had riders out all night to gather these treasures for him."
He patted the rump of the saddled mount. "This is Salah el Din's ridding mount, swifter than any mount in Islam. You may hold him as hostage - but only until mid-day!" And he smiled a broad, warming smile that, in the waning moonlight, made his face glow with a radiance. "That is when the huge beast you ride will be found at the great gate of Jerusalem. Then you must chase my love here out into the desert. She will find me. By mid-day, Allah grant that in these troubled time we both should live so long.
"And see! Here!" He led me to the far side of the mount. "For your fearless Grand Master, who fights us more valiantly than any warrior we can recall. A cruciform sword made by the hand of Islam's greatest craftsman." It took my breath away, for never had my eyes beheld such a weapon. "And to you, honorable and valiant Templar, a small clay bowl, the tool of a monk that befriended Sultans. I swear before Allah, it is more valuable than all the collected gold and silver of all the kings and princes in the world, if you fathom its great secret. I am made by a promise to give this to you, but should we meet again before the truce, I am sworn to try and rip it from you to prove your worthiness and to recall it as our own, as it is also most blessed to us. Now, Brother, the sun rises soon. Even though Jerusalem is only twelve miles to the east, the ice will not survive and the fruit will turn from the heat. Make haste." With that, he clasped my hand in very genuine friendship and released me.
And
so I rode from the place of the Great and Noble Salah el Din with his
words and his gifts. I had never ridden a horse like Salah el
Din's; I would swear it had wings. And as I flew through the wasteland
on el Din's magic carpet, I thought hard upon his words to me and what
he had said about our paths crossing. In truth, Master Richard,
it worried me - for in my heart, I knew we would meet again."
