The Wolves of Solomon (Wolves of Solomon Book One)
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“What is it, Sister Clemence?” the Abbess said irritably, looking up from the parchment she was reading.
“There are more Templars at the gate.” The nun said nervously.
“More Templars?” the Abbess said incredulously, dropping the page she held. “The same ones as yesterday?”
“No, there are five of them and the one who speaks for them is not the man who was here yesterday.”
The Abbess shook her head. “Saints preserve us! Is there no respite from Catherine’s misdemeanours?” she asked wearily. “I pray that those who came yesterday had taken her away with them, to be burdened with her temperament. Perhaps, we will be more fortunate today, eh?” the Abbess said with fake jollity. Sister Clemence just stared blankly at her and the Abbess sighed despairingly. “Oh go and show them in here would you and not all of them, two at the most. I don’t want a hoard of men trampling through my rooms, Templars or not.”
When Clemence returned, she was accompanied by two of the Templars who swept passed her into the Abbess’ private quarters without waiting to be announced. The first to enter was tall and immediately fixed his green eyes upon the Abbess and smiled smarmily. Though the Abbess appreciated his dark good looks, there was something brutal about him and his green eyes brought to mind those of a snake. His companion was less commanding in his presence and waited behind his comrade with his eyes downcast. The Abbess may have been a bitter crone but she was not stupid and something about this situation didn’t feel right.
“Well,” the Abbess began standing up, “we do feel honoured here at St Catherine’s to receive so much attention from the Temple, but I thought the men who visited yesterday were content with their inquiry into the matter to warrant a further visit and by a greater number of you.”
The dark haired knight looked surprised at this remark and stepped forward. “You have already been visited by us?” he sounded concerned but his eyes were bright with intrigue.
“Why yes.” The Abbess said now echoing his concern. “From Temple Bruer, there were two of them. You have come from that preceptory have you not? The man who was murdered was a tenant.”
“We have but were unaware of any prior visit.” He rubbed his stubbly beard as if in serious thought and then said, “You don’t happen to remember the names of the men who visited you do you, for I would surely know them if they came from Temple Bruer.”
“Ah,” the Abbess said smiling, “I remember the one who asked all the questions, Galeren de Massard. I believe the other was his sergeant, from the way he was dressed, and his name I do not remember.”
A light that could only be described as that of recognition entered the knight’s eyes and then the strangest smile crossed his face that made the Abbess feel uneasy.
“What is it Sir Templar?”
“I do know the man who was here. He is no Templar though; he was expelled some time ago. He has a rather vicious reputation.”
“Christ, protect us!” the Abbess said crossing herself several times. “I must admit his manner did vex me and he seemed overly interested in Catherine, if you take my meaning.” She raised a disapproving eyebrow at him.
“Did he now?” the Templar said, another strange smile crossing his face.
“He insisted on speaking to her alone.” The Abbess continued.
“This is most disturbing.” The Templar said, though nothing about his expression indicated to the Abbess that he was at all disturbed. “May I speak with . . . Catherine? I would like to find out about what they spoke. It may be that he himself was her attacker and sought to silence her tongue with fear.”
“You don’t seriously think, do you?” the Abbess said putting her hand on her heart, her shock was genuine.
“Oh I am deadly serious.” The Templar said.
“Oh, and to think he was here within these walls!”
“You must not blame yourself Abbess,” he said with a wolfish grin, “it is easy to be taken in by impostors when they dress and act convincingly.”
She nodded wearily. “May I speak with her?” he asked again.
“Of course,” the Abbess said. “Sister Clemence can you fetch Catherine again please.” The young nun left to do the Abbess’ bidding at once and the Abbess sighed wearily and slowly sank back into her chair, “I will be relieved when this is all over and peace is resumed to the house.”
“It will be, of that you can be assured.”
“Well, I pray that this fiend is caught and dealt with soon. We shan’t want to leave the convent or know who to trust until he is.”
“Oh we’ll get him, worry not.” The knight assured.
The door suddenly crashed open and all looked round to see the cause of the commotion. “Mother Abbess!” Sister Clemence cried careering back into the room.
“Temperance Sister!” the Abbess scolded standing up again. “What is the meaning of this?”
Clemence caught her breath and gushed, “Catherine’s gone!”
“Gone?” the Abbess squawked incredulously, “what do you mean gone?”
“She is not in her room and the window has been smashed. She has escaped, run away, gone!”
The Abbess sat down and put her head in her hands. “When will it end?” she asked to no one in particular.
“Is she wont of this sort of behaviour?” the Templar asked.
“She is wanton, if that’s what you mean?” the Abbess said irritably. “Did no one hear anything during the night? Was not Sister Margaret outside her door all evening?”
“She said she heard nothing.”
“Nothing but her own snoring, I imagine.” The Abbess said derisively then looked at the Templar who seemed thoughtful.
“You don’t think she was taken by . . . him, do you?” she asked.
“It is difficult to say. Was she likely to run away?”
“She has been nothing but trouble since she came here and has found difficulty adjusting to the vocation, so it would not surprise me.”
“Let it trouble you no more.” The Templar said making to leave. “We will find her, if she is still alive that is.” He added pessimistically.
“I pray that you do find her, God willing, and safe. I may despair at the girl but I would not see her fall foul of a monster.”
The Templar nodded his understanding and then said, “we must make haste then. I thank you for your time Abbess and God willing we will return your lost lamb to you presently.” He turned on his heel and left the room hurriedly and his sour companion followed him. The Abbess sat down and chewed on her bottom lip with fervent concern feeling sure that she was unlikely to see any of them ever again.
“Do you think he took her?” the other man dressed as a Templar asked his superior when they were back at the convent gates.
“Of course he took her,” Esquin de Floyran spat, “I bit her for Christ’s sake!”
He chewed on a hangnail ferociously and then turned back to his companion. “What are the odds, eh, of De Massard getting involved? I thought he would have been back at Faxfleet by now.” He continued to chew the nail of his middle finger, deep in thought and suddenly the anger on his face evaporated to be replaced with sinister delight. “It could be perfect.”
“Perfect?” the other said stupefied.
“Yes perfect!” De Floyran snapped impatiently. “You know what a sap Galeren is. He knew I would come looking for her. ’Tis why he took her, he’s protecting her.” He laughed. “She was a peach.” He said smiling at the memory. “He’ll probably fall for her, imagine that?”
The thought suddenly struck him in earnest and his smile widened, “Christ he probably will, but she has been marked by me.” He mounted his horse in one fluid movement. “Fate smiles on me, Botolf!” he said motioning his men to move out.
“Now to find them.” He brooded and spurred his horse away from the convent and back towards the direction of Temple Bruer.
Chapter Six