"Wait here. I will tell the emperor of your urgency."

The four Templars stood and waited in silence. They knew they were being watched by those able to read their lips if they spoke to one another. They were still waiting when the Comte de Dijon arrived for his interview with de Molesmes, surprised to see such an imposing delegation from the Temple.

A half hour passed before de Molesmes hurriedly reentered the room. He frowned when he saw the Comte de Dijon, despite the importance of the meeting he and the king's representative had planned.

"The emperor will receive you now in his private apartments," he announced to the Templars. "Comte de Dijon, if you will wait for me, the emperor has asked that I stand by his door in case he has need of me."

Balduino was waiting for them in a small room off the throne room, his eyes revealing concern over this unexpected visit. He sensed that the Templars were bringing unwelcome news.

"Tell me, gentlemen, what is so urgent that it cannot wait for a public audience, as is our wont?"

Andre de Saint-Remy went straight to the point.

"My lord, I come to inform you that your uncle, Louis the Ninth of France, is a prisoner in Al-Mansurah. At this moment, negotiations are being held on the conditions for his freedom. The situation is grave. I thought it prudent that you should know."

The emperor's face went white, as though the blood had drained from his body. For a few seconds he was unable to speak. He felt his heart beating fast and his lower lip trembling, just as they'd done when he was a boy and had to struggle not to cry, so that his father would not punish him for showing signs of weakness.

The Templar saw the storm of emotions that had taken possession of the emperor, and he continued speaking in order to give him time to recover.

"I know how deep and true is your affection for your uncle. I assure you that all possible efforts are being made to free him."

Such was the confusion in his mind and heart that Balduino was barely able to stammer a few incoherent words.

"When did you learn this? Who told you?"

Saint-Remy did not reply, but continued with his message.

"My lord, I know the problems that burden the empire and I have come to offer aid."

'Aid? Tell me…"

"You are about to sell the Mandylion to Louis. The king sent the Comte de Dijon to negotiate for the shroud's sale or lease. I know that the Holy Shroud is now in your possession and that once the agreement is concluded the count will take it to France, to Dona Blanca de Castilla. You are pressed by the Genovese bankers, and the Venetian ambassador has written to inform the Signoria that within a short time they will be able to buy what remains of the empire at a low price. If you do not pay off part of your debt to the Venetians and the Genovese, you will become an emperor without an empire. Your realm has begun to be a fiction."

Saint-Remy's hard words were having their desired effect on the spirit of Balduino, who, despairing, was wringing his hands under the broad sleeves of his scarlet tunic. He had never felt so alone as at this moment. He sought in vain for his chancellor, but the Templars had made it clear that they wished to speak to the emperor in private.

"What do you suggest, gentlemen?" he finally asked.

"The Temple is ready to purchase the Mandylion from you," Saint-Remy replied. "This very day you shall have enough gold to retire your most pressing debts. Genoa and Venice will leave you in peace-unless you incur more debt. Our demand is silence. You must swear upon your honor that you will tell no one-no one, not even your good chancellor-that you have sold the shroud to the Temple. No one must ever know it."

"Why do you demand my silence?"

"You know that we prefer to act with discretion. If no one knows where the Mandylion is, there will be no disputes or confrontations between Christian and Christian. Silence is part of the price. We trust in you, in your word as a gentleman and emperor, but the bill of sale will state that you will be in the Temple's debt for the full amount we bring you today if you reveal the terms of our agreement. We would also require the immediate repayment of all your other debts to the Temple."

The emperor could hardly breathe from the intense pain in his chest.

"How do I know that Louis is being held prisoner?" he managed to ask.

"You know, sir, that we are men of honor and would never lie to you about such a matter."

"When would I have the gold?"

"Now."

Saint-Rimy knew that the temptation was too great for Balduino, especially with the fate of his chief sponsor, the king of France, in doubt. By simply saying yes, the emperor would eliminate most of his immediate worries; that very morning he could call in the Venetian and Genovese ambassadors and pay his debts to their republics.

"No one in the court will believe that the money has simply fallen from the sky."

"Tell them the truth-tell them that the Temple has given it to you. You need not tell them why. Let them think it is a loan."

"And if I do not agree?"

"You are free not to agree, my lord. We have made no threat against this empire, or yourself."

They stood in silence. Balduino tried frantically to weigh his dwindling options as Saint-Remy waited calmly.

At last the emperor fixed his gaze on the Templar and in a barely audible voice spoke but four words: "I accept your offer."

Bartolome dos Capelos handed his superior a rolled document, and Saint-Remy in turn extended it toward the emperor.

"This is the agreement. Read it; it contains the terms that I have spoken of. Sign it and our servants will bring the gold we have brought with us and put it where you command."

"Were you so sure I would agree, then?" moaned Balduino.

Saint-Remy remained silent, though his eyes never left the emperor's. Balduino picked up a quill, affixed his mark, and sealed it with the imperial seal.

"Wait here," he told the Templar, and sighed. "1 will bring the Mandylion."

The emperor left the room by a door hidden behind a tapestry. A few minutes later he returned with a carefully folded piece of cloth.

The Templars unfolded it enough to ensure that it was the authentic Mandylion. Then they folded it up again.

At a gesture from Saint-Remy, the Scottish knight Roger Parker and the Portuguese Templar dos Capelos left the room and swiftly made their way to the entrance of the palace, where their servants were waiting.

Pascal de Molesmes, hovering in the antechamber, observed the coming and going of the Templars and their servants loaded down with heavy sacks. He knew it would be futile to ask what they were carrying, and he was bewildered at not having been called by the emperor. Time and again he considered entering the room with the others, but something counseled prudence. He feared provoking Balduino's wrath, and so he waited and watched.

Two hours later, with the sacks of gold deposited in a secret compartment hidden in the tapestry-covered wall, the Templars took their leave of the emperor.

Balduino would keep his promise of silence, not simply because he had given his word as emperor but also because he feared Andre de Saint-Remy. The superior of the Templar chapter in Constantinople was a pious man, devoted utterly to the cause of the Lord, but in his eyes shone the man inside, a man whose hand would not tremble if he had to defend that which he believed in or which he had vowed to do.

When de Molesmes entered the royal chamber, he found Balduino pensive but calm, as though a weight had been lifted from him.

The emperor informed him of the sad fate of his uncle the king of France and how, in view of the circumstances, he had accepted a new loan from the Templars. He would pay off the debt to the Venetians and Genovese and bide his time until good King Louis was once again at liberty.