The Wolves of Solomon (Wolves of Solomon Book One)
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“This is a ridiculous idea! I hope you haven’t encouraged him.” Bertrand le Roux thundered as he looked at De Villiers and pinched his nose for composure.
“I certainly have not!” De Villiers defended folding his arms.
“Gerard is firmly in your camp on this matter.” Galeren stressed. “I don’t even know why I am having this conversation for all the good it will do me. I left the Temple and I act independently from it. I am wasting my time here.” He finished nonchalantly.
He had been at Temple Bruer for one week now, and though he’d healed quickly, as he was predisposed to, he was still risking permanent damage by exerting himself on his damaged leg. But he could lay about not a moment longer. He could only see Catherine and she was slipping away. He had tried to contact her with his mind, but to no avail. Though he sensed she was not dead, the connection was faint, broken and he could not reach her.
“Things have changed Galeren, you are needed here! It is the future we must think about now.”
“My interests lie in France and don’t think to challenge that.” Galeren said.
“I would never be so foolish as to challenge you, for what good it would do me.” Bertrand shook his head in frustration. “I only seek to advise you. You are not fully healed.” Bertrand said spreading his hands. “You are not at full strength and even if you were, you would be foolhardy to go to France alone. You must see that De Floyran has set a trap for you, this is exactly what he wants you to do.”
“I know that,” Galeren barked, “but what would you have me do, leave Catherine at his mercy? There are Templars in danger including my father. If you still think the Pope will come to our rescue then you are mistaken. De Floyran wants revenge and that lies in our destruction. If Philip and his minions know our true nature then every Templar now in custody will be murdered. You wish me to hide like a coward?”
“You wished to hide before.” Bertrand said, not meaning it to sound as it did.
Galeren’s face darkened, “I did, but when all had the opportunity to do so. ’Tis different now, our brothers will die. I choose to sacrifice myself but do not choose to sacrifice others, for the greater good or not, when the need is not there.”
Bertrand sighed, knowing that while nothing Galeren said would convince him to take such a risk, nothing he could say would convince Galeren not to.
“No one doubts your integrity Galeren, your intentions are always honourable but we cannot send a contingent to France, into a trap. You are stubborn to your detriment if you think you can achieve anything, except your death, alone. We must take heed, observe and plan for the future. I urge you to think about it. Making decisions when emotions are raw is unwise. Your skills are needed here.”
“And if it were your wife?”
Bertrand shook his head solemnly. “That,” he sighed, “I cannot answer.”
“Or will not,” Galeren pointed out. “You once warned me that it is the most powerful emotion of all. I didn’t understand then,” he clenched his fists, “now I do and am bound by it. You have Gerard here for advice. You know what I would do; you need not have me here to tell you again.” He nodded at De Villiers then Le Roux and turned on his heel and left the room.
Le Roux sighed again and blinking several times said, “Fool or hero?”
“Both,” De Villiers said, “we need people like Galeren.”
“Here, yes.” Le Roux stressed.
“Maybe not,” De Villiers disagreed. Le Roux looked at him frowning. De Villiers shrugged. “He may have vision but Galeren is also warrior, Bertrand. If anyone can –”
“You don’t seriously think he can go into the Lion’s den and save four hundred Templars single handed do you?” Bertrand said incredulously.
“No,” De Villiers said regretfully, “but I think he won’t let it go easily and he will kill De Floyran.”
“’Tis a waste to lose such talent, but if it must be his destiny . . .” Le Roux trailed off.
“Of what emotion did he refer to?” De Villiers asked.
“Love,” Bertrand answered soberly.
“Where are you going?” Parsifal called out as Galeren limped towards the stable yard.
“To France,” he said pausing to turn and look at his sergeant.
“Can I come?” Parsifal said seriously.
“No, and,” Galeren said, raising his hand when he saw Parsifal’s face twist in protest, “it is not because I think you unworthy, indeed your honour and worth are unparalleled at this point but I cannot have you with me. I act alone and outside the Temple’s sphere of authority. It is my chance to take, mine alone. I have already lost much and am not prepared to lose you.”
Parsifal nodded his understanding, “But I would rather go into the jaws of hell with you than remain in De Gosbeck’s charge.”
Galeren’s face crinkled into a smile. “He is a good master, if a little overbearing and will serve you better than I.”
“I have the right to disagree. If you do not wish to take me because you think I will disobey you then –”
Galeren shook his head, “’Tis not. Simply I would be concerned for your safety and that would distract me. Catherine distracted my senses and she now suffers for it.”
He looked at his faithful sergeant and was struck by an immense feeling of pride. The young lad would follow him to hell. He had heart. Galeren had always prided himself on sense but he now realised that heart was at the core of achievement. Heart was impulsive and risky but sense would not save Catherine or his father.
“There will be struggles ahead Parsifal and the Temple will need brothers like you.”
“I will not argue with you, I trust what you say. I have said some bad things to you in the past . . . ”
Galeren shook his head but Parsifal motioned that he was not yet finished, “what I said was wrong but I still blame your reticence for part of my ignorance.”
Galeren smiled, “I’m not good at talking about myself but I accept your apology if you will accept mine.”
“Done,” Parsifal said. “Good luck, sir.” He held out his hand and Galeren shook it. He then took something out of his pocket and handed it to Galeren. It was a money bag and it was full of coin. Galeren frowned in puzzlement.
“From De Villiers,” he said smiling, “he thought you may need it.”
“I’d say,” Galeren said returning the smile. “Thank him for me.”
“I will. If you ever have need –”
“You will be the first I call upon.” Galeren promised and watched as Parsifal turned and walked back across the bailey. Taking a deep breath Galeren made his way back towards the stable.
Chapter Fourteen