The Seal(126)

The face was his own.

At last Clement knew his fate, his lungs expelled all their air and he groaned two great groans . . .

. . . and he was devoured.





59


SNAKES AND SNARES

He that diggeth a pit shall fall into it.

Ecclesiastes 10:8


October 1314

Iterius waited for his master at a distance from the avenue of chestnut trees. Here he was cast in shades of silver as the stars crept out from behind the clouds.

He peered about, gathering to him the dirty purple cloak edged with fur and holding tightly to the bag that squirmed beneath it. Poisonous snakes . . . his insurance. After all, he was what he was now, remembering what he had been then, before the loss of his king’s regard. It was not his fault that he must resort to other loyalties and to foul means.

And so it had been favourable that Philip had summoned him to this place at this hour, for although he might be fair sport standing alone among the chestnut trees, he felt safe in the knowledge that his dream had predicted he would die by falling from a great height.

Alas . . . alas . . . he consoled himself, looking up to the hiding stars. Perhaps the King called him here because he still needed him? After all, he could still make the draught that caused the images to pass before Philip’s mind. In that case Guillaume de Plaisians might enjoy a visit from his lizards.

He saw a shadow manifest from other shadows near the pale little chapel. He tightened his grip around the bag. We will see . . . he told himself and out loud. ‘Sire? Is that you?’

‘It is I,’ came Philip’s response, health-full and exuberant, followed by the sound of his steps on the moist ground.

The shadow came closer and became a form recognisable. Even in the dark Iterius could sense something changed about that shadow.

Warily the Egyptian moved toward it. ‘Sire?’ he said, some paces from him. ‘How come you here unprotected?’

The King gestured for Iterius to follow him along the flagged path that was white with a thin layer of snow. ‘I go nowhere alone, Iterius!’ He glanced upward to the stars and their light revealed nothing of his eyes. Iterius knew only the murderous violence, full with pride and disdain, that was hid thinly behind the friendly tone of that voice.

‘First snow of the season,’ he said.

The astrologer kept up with the King’s long, powerful strides. Tense and held in, suspicious of the King’s calm, he wondered what followed in the train of the bright tone of his voice – a smile? He would worry about a smile.

‘I see visions now without the aid of your draught.’ Philip half turned to him but did not slow down his pace as they walked in the direction of the abbey. ‘At every moment there tears into my soul vast panoramas, futures and pasts! I am tethered to such insights and nightmares! Mighty and colossal mysteries of darkness sweep over me and thrust me into the workings of their being. The power to rule the world exists on my soul’s tongue, Astrologer, ready to be voiced, and what a voice it shall be! To bring this unusual gift to its fulfilment!’

A moment of illumination rendered Iterius speechless – he was no longer needed.

‘Come along . . . pick up the pace.’

Iterius gazed upward to a westering sky toward chaos and eternity, and began to feel cold and dangerous. ‘Where are we going, sire?’ he asked.

‘Patience,’ the King said. A moment later he said, ‘Have you given some thought to what I shall do with you?’

There was a sound behind them. The wind came and scooped up the limbs of the chestnut trees and disturbed snow. The animals pastured beyond the lane made noises and moved off.

‘Sire, you have achieved the end of the Order . . . you have seen the future . . . but what you have not seen will now be accomplished with my help. There is a bond that spans many lives, sire, and will continue on beyond life . . . You cannot . . . you must not discard me if you wish to know the secrets, for only now can they be made understood to you!’ He was elated. ‘Of course! I was foolish!’ he muttered to himself. ‘It is only now that the Templars are dead that what they have kept secret can be made intelligible!’

‘What is this nonsense, Astrologer?’ The King was paused, looking down on him.

Iterius for his part was realising with a sense of curious wonder that evil had settled into his mind like a cat settles into a lap. ‘Sire!’ He was excited now. ‘With my help you shall control good and evil, birth and death! You will reign over all things!’ The astrologer looked out to the wintry night. ‘I will become your mirror! I need not be anything at all . . . I can be vacant . . . just a mirror! A mirror.’ He was doing a little shuffle with his feet in the snow. ‘I will mediate the Templar secrets from the world of the dead! I realise now! Men who die a violent death become channels of knowledge for men like me!’