"I sense you bring worse news."

"I do, I fear. The king's strategy consisted of surrounding the Saracens in Al-Mansurah and attacking them from the rear. But Robert d'Artois, Louis's brother, moved precipitously, wiping out a small encampment before the king's troops were in position and alerting the Ayubis. The battle was bloody."

Robert de Saint-Remy wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, as though to erase the memory of the dead that thronged his mind. He once more saw the crimson-colored earth, wet with the blood of Saracen and Crusader both, and his companions-at-arms fighting furiously, without quarter, their swords like extensions of their arms, piercing the bowels of Saracens on every side. He could still feel the weariness in his bones and the horror in his soul.

"Many of our brothers died. The Grand Master was gravely wounded, but we saved him, at least for a time."

Andre remained silent, watching a tempest of emotions sweep across the face of his younger brother.

"The knights Yves de Payens and Beltran de Aragon and I picked de Sonnac up off the field of battle after a treacherous arrow found him, and we carried him as far as we could. But the effort was in vain; he died in the retreat, of a fever."

"What about the king?"

"We won the batde. The losses were terrible; thousands of men lay dead or wounded on the ground, but Louis said that God was with him and that he would triumph. With that battle cry he rallied the soldiers, and he was right-we won, but never was a victory so fragile. The Christian troops marched off then toward Damietta, but the king was sick with dysentery and the soldiers were starving, exhausted. I know not how it happened, all I know is that the army capitulated and Louis has been taken prisoner."

A heavy silence fell over the room, and the two brothers, lost in their own thoughts, hardly moved for long minutes.

Through the window came the echo of knights doing military exercises on the glacis before the fortifications, amid the creaking of wagons and the ringing of the blacksmith's anvil.

At last Andre broke the silence.

"Who has been elected Grand Master?"

"Our new Grand Master is Renaud de Vichiers, preceptor of France, marichal of the order. You know him."

"I do. Renaud de Vichiers is a prudent and pious man."

"He has been sent from Acre in the Holy Land to negotiate with the Saracens for Louis's return. The king's nobles also sent emissaries, with instructions to ask the Saracens to put a price on the king's freedom. Louis is suffering terribly, although he is being attended by the Saracen physicians and receiving good treatment. When I left, the negotiations were making no headway, but the Grand Master trusts he will be able to secure the king's release."

"What shall the price be?"

"The Saracens are asking that the soldiers of the Crusade return Damietta."

'And are Louis's nobles willing to withdraw their troops from Damietta?"

"They will do as the king bids them-he alone can capitulate. De Vichiers has sent a message to him, advising him to agree."

"What orders do you bring me from the Grand Master?"

"I bring you sealed documents and other messages that I have been asked to speak in your ear."

"Then speak."

"We must secure the Mandylion for the order. The Grand Master says that the cloth is the only relic whose authenticity is certain. When you have it, I am to take it to him in our fortress of Saint-Jean d'Acre. No one must know that it is in our power. You may buy it or do whatever you believe necessary, but no one must know that the purchase is for the Temple. The Christian kings are capable of killing for the Mandylion. The pope will also demand it for himself. We have lent him many of the relics that you have been buying from Balduino all these years, and others are in the power of Louis of France, sold or given to him by his nephew.

"We know that Louis wants the Mandylion," Robert continued. 'After the victory at Damietta he sent a delegation with a message for the emperor. The delegation also carried documents with his orders to France."

"Yes, I know. A few days ago the Comte de Dijon arrived with a letter for the emperor. Louis asked his nephew for the Mandylion in exchange for aid to Constantinople."

Robert produced several sealed rolls of documents, which Andre laid on the table.

"Tell me, Andre, what do you know of our parents?"

His brother's lips tightened and he lowered his eyes to the floor. At last, he replied. "Our mother is dead. Our sister Casilda likewise. She died during the birth of her fifth child. Our father, though old and ailing with gout, was still alive last winter. He spends his hours sitting in the great hall; he can hardly walk for the terrible swelling in his feet. Our elder brother, Umberto, administers the inheritance-our lands are prosperous and God has given him four healthy children. It has been so long since we left Saint-Remy…"

"But I still remember the allee of poplars that leads to the castle, and the smell of baking bread, and our mother singing."

"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.