‘Yes, usury has many names. When bishops borrow from the city consuls they call it a dono.’
‘I will not have you say such things! What impudence! Donations are necessary for the life of the church! How else could we maintain our place in the world?’
‘But our Lord, your grace, died on the cross, naked.’
The bishop’s eyes widened, irritated and bloodshot. ‘Jews and merchants line their purses with the sufferings of others. The church, on the other hand, provides fraternal service to its children! For charity, not poverty, is the basis for the perfect life. No,’ he continued, out of breath, ‘we do not pretend to be paupers, nor do we live a sybaritic life! And although there is pride in wealth, preceptor, there is also pride in poverty! A hypocrite stands before me preaching the value of poverty when it is no secret that your Paris preceptory holds treasures beyond comprehension!’
‘What we have accumulated for services beneficent to the countries we inhabit is used to maintain our militia, so that we may best serve the pope, and so, naturally, God. And if you speak of charity, no other order has such strict charitable obligations as the Templar order, my lord.’
The bishop laughed, ‘You make an excellent diplomat, preceptor, I can see why the king holds you in such high esteem. Your tongue is smooth and obviously illuminated by learning. I hear Alexandria, where you were born, preceptor, is the centre of heretical learning. I am told it is a hotbed of gnostic wisdom, cabbala, sufism and all manner of sin.’
‘It is a great place of learning, your grace, as you have said. As a matter of fact, the Christians of Alexandria were foremost in interpreting the ascetic teachings of the early fathers, the founders of the monastic life.’
‘So you say, because you are half infidel, preceptor, and I begin to wonder which half of you takes precedence.’
‘The half that counts, your grace.’
The other man looked at him blankly, ‘Yes, and yet, was it the Christian half or the infidel half that was compelled to leave the university of Paris? Perhaps you thought you could hide your past from us? Your strange methods were not considered . . . shall I speak delicately? Your methods were not considered pious. Today you might be burnt at the stake for such transgressions. In any event,’ he paused, savouring his words, ‘after so many years you do not seem to have learnt the error of your ways. Remember the maxim? Chil paist, chil prie, et chil deffent.’
‘This man labours, this prays and that defends . . .’
‘Precisely . . . Listen to me, this is not your war, return to your preceptory, leave the work of rooting out the disembodied enemies of the faith to the inquisitor!’
‘I cannot do that, your grace.’
The man sat down on a stone bench facing the central garth and sighed, suddenly tired. ‘What has happened to the world? All over Europe Christians struggle with Christians, heresy sprouts up to poison the calm waters of wisdom . . . In truth, politics do not interest me, it is not my concern if the classes struggle one with the other, that is the king’s business. Only when it affects the morals of my community, only then does it come under my authority. In such cases, mark my words well, I would use all the power afforded me to see to it that the laws of the church are upheld whatever the cost! I will not allow patricians, nor indeed these defiant monasteries, nor even the privileged classes, to cause the ruination of the faith of my community.’
‘But what is faith to a man who does not make distinctions between right and wrong, but simply between living and dying?’
The bishop shook his head stubbornly. ‘I do not profess to know the solutions to all things, preceptor. I am a simple man, unlike you . . . however, even you must not fall prey to pity. You must rather see through the disguise of poverty and obedience to what lies secret, and obscure. Namely, greed and wealth!’
The bell tolled and my master helped the bishop to his feet.
‘Tell me, how is your friend Jean de Joinville on his return from the Holy Land? I believe he has become quite the hero fighting alongside the king.’
‘I believe he is well, recuperating after some four years at the hands of the infidel,’ my master replied.
‘Hmm . . . the battle of Mansourah, a terrible thing. So many men captured, so many dead . . . but you and your squire escaped?’
‘Yes.’
‘How fortuitous. Some would say too fortuitous for a half infidel,’ he said, watching my master closely. Seeing no sign of anger on Andre’s face, he continued a little disappointed, ‘The life of a Templar knight in the East is certainly a dangerous one. But the life of a knight in France is also fraught with hazards. I hope you will take some advice from an old man who has seen many things in his life: there are two certainties in all this, one is that the mouth of an inquisitor speaks with the pope’s tongue, and the other is that his jurisdiction is absolute. Do your duty, see to it that justice is done! These are days of strange affiliations, preceptor, and we must stand together as men of God, despite our differences. Oportet inquisitores veritatis non esse inimicos!’ That is to say, there should be no enmity among seekers after truth.’