The Wolves of Solomon (Wolves of Solomon Book One)

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  Catherine’s scream pierced the serenity of the night and Galeren jolted awake. Instinctively, he changed and stood on the bed, teeth bared ready to attack. He quickly turned to look at Catherine. She was sat up, hugging her knees to her chest and shaking frantically. Surveying the room and sensing no danger within or without their chamber, Galeren changed back and reached out to comfort her.

  “Christ Catherine, you near killed me with fright. What is it?”

  She continued shaking and he pulled her close to him. “He was burning Templars.” She said, her voice trembling with horror.

  “Who was?” Galeren asked, trying to soothe her.

  “De Floyran,” she said and felt Galeren stiffen.

  “A bad dream?” he half said, half asked.

  “No,” she said resolutely, “’twas like before, a vision, he sent it to me. It was a vision of a truth.”

  “The future?” Galeren frowned, suddenly feeling an unease enter his own soul.

  “I cannot be sure. Before, it was of the future. But this felt so real, so now.”

  Galeren shook his head to comfort her. Despite the Pope’s Bull, not a Templar had been arrested in England. The Pope had not yet begun a papal inquiry into the matter in France, they couldn’t be burning Templars. Even though he did not doubt that they would, it was too soon to be now.

  “’Twas a vision of the future. A future that will not come to pass.” He said reassuringly.

  “Perhaps,” she wiped her eyes and then said, “Galeren promise me you won’t go back there, promise me!”

  “You know I cannot do that.”

  “I could smell their flesh burning, I still can. You will die if you go back to France.”

  “I won’t,” he assured her, “I promise. I won’t be going unless we have a failsafe plan and I won’t be going alone.”

  She sighed and lent into him, “I thought I may be free of him. All I can think of is the new world but I know I cannot enjoy the thought of it when I know that you will go back to France and he will be waiting for you. I wish this was over, I wish we could just leave.”

  “De Floyran does not frighten me, only when he has you and I promise he will not again. If you are safe then be assured that so am I. Think of the new world and enjoy it, for we will share it together.”

  She nodded and lay back down with him. Galeren had returned from Strathbogie to Maryculter with the others just a few days earlier but, refusing to settle Catherine into lodgings with the other Templar women, they would soon be leaving to live as tenants on the Templar estate.

  Although Philip would be pressing the Pope for it, the Temple had not yet been dissolved so it still had a reputation to uphold. This was especially important for the Templars in Scotland for the benefit of their new patron, the Bruce. It was still too soon for them to shed their mantles but Galeren had already shed his. He planned to marry Catherine and relinquish the white mantle of a Templar Knight, for the sake of observation. He was still on the council and was included in all matters that were of Temple concern.

  His sights, however, were still firmly fixed on France. He was eager to return there and settle his score with De Floyran and attempt to get as many of their brethren out of French dungeons as possible; however he was not going to be reckless. He had promised Gerard this and knew that in return he would have his support when it was needed the most. In the meantime, he was determined to keep his emotions in check and think of the future. The right time would come and when it did he would be ready for it.

  Chapter Twenty Eight