Looking them over, he took a seat behind a writing table cluttered with correspondence and writing paraphernalia, but he did not invite them to sit- clearly meant as a reminder of the deference he expected as Master of England.

"You look somewhat the worse for wear," he observed. "You would have gotten a better reception, had you come ash.o.r.e on the English side of the Tweed. Now, tell me what brings you to this benighted place at this most inauspicious time."

Arnault sensed Torquil tensing and flashed him a warning glance to mind his temper and his tongue.

"Paris had sent us to negotiate a truce between the English and the Scots," he informed Jay neutrally. "I regret to see we have arrived too late to accomplish our primary mission. It now becomes our duty to engage our negotiating skills to mediate some restraint in the treatment of those who haven't borne arms.

Given your past record of diplomacy, I'm sure we can count on your a.s.sistance."

"What, now?" Jay said, on a note of incredulity.

"Now, more than ever," Arnault replied. "I am told that you stand high in King Edward's esteem. If you were to recommend clemency on behalf of the people of Berwick, surely he would listen to you."

"I very much doubt that anything can be done," Jay began.

"If I could do this myself, I would," Arnault said. "But sadly, I lack your eminence. As Master of England, and the king's confidant, you are perceived as a man capable of succeeding where others might fail.

Needless to say, it would be a credit to your reputation if you could sway King Edward in favor of taking pity on those who have done him no harm."

He was relieved when Jay succ.u.mbed to this appeal to his vanity. "I'll do what I can," said the Master of England. "But as for trying to put a stop to this war, you might as well have stayed in France and saved yourself the trouble. The Scots are too stubborn for their own good, and only harsh measures will teach them otherwise."

Chapter Fifteen.

AFTER MUCH FRANTIC AND IMPa.s.sIONED PLEADING ON BE-half of the clergy of Berwick, Edward of England at last condescended to order an end to the general slaughter. By then, over the s.p.a.ce of three days, nearly three quarters of the town's population had perished by the sword-perhaps as many as twenty thousand souls. The streets were piled high with corpses: men, women, and children of all ages, slain indiscriminately. The air quickly became so poisoned by the reek of decay that the conquerors were compelled either to throw the bodies into the sea or to bury them in hastily dug pits outside the boundaries of the town.

"Jay's intercessions were about as much worth as a wh.o.r.e's honor," Torquil grumbled, through a m.u.f.fling kerchief tied over his nose and mouth, as he and Arnault rode to inspect the state of the ma.s.s grave sites.

It was one of the few places where they could speak without fear of being overheard.

"I won't dispute that," Arnault replied. "For what it's worth, I don't think anyone could have moved Edward to rescind his initial decree until the worst of the damage had been done. Clearly, he meant to make an example of Berwick, to intimidate the Scottish people as a whole. The spread of fear can often do more damage than any siege engine, when it comes to weakening the resolve of the enemy."

"On the other hand," Torquil said grimly, "it can convince folk that they have nothing to lose by fighting to the death."

The speed with which events were unfolding in Scotland put a certain urgency on proceeding with their true mission. Nearly a fortnight pa.s.sed, however, before they were permitted to depart Berwick. Brian de Jay was preparing to travel south to London and thence to Cyprus, there to deliver the Order's annual rents and revenues to the Grand Master. On learning that Arnault and Torquil planned to remain in Scotland during his absence, Jay made little attempt to disguise his displeasure.

"There can be no question of negotiating a truce now," he informed the pair, in a meeting at which Guy de Foresta, the former Master of England, was also present-for he would be accompanying Jay to Cyprus.

"Under the circ.u.mstances, I feel that the Order would be best served if you and Brother Torquil were to return to France. No doubt the Visitor will have fresh orders for you, once he has learned of the failure of your mission."

"On the contrary, the Visitor was not unaware that war might break out before we could arrive to prevent it," Arnault replied. "In that event, our orders stipulate that we are to approach various influential members of the Scottish clergy, and solicit their advice concerning how best to resolve the conflict."

"What is there to resolve?" Foresta grumbled. "Four years ago, John Balliol did homage to King Edward, acknowledging him to be supreme suzerain of Scotland. Since then, he has violated his feudal obligations and rebelled against his overlord. There can be no question that Balliol has committed treason, and all those who fight in his cause are guilty of the same crime. There is no greater offense-and until they confess and make rest.i.tution for their actions, there is nothing more to be said."

"No one could refute that a.n.a.lysis," Arnault answered smoothly. "In this instance, however, one cannot overlook the possibility that John Balliol has fallen victim to bad counsel. Who better to sift the conscience of Scotland's king than those eminent clerics-abbots, priests, and priors- who could be expected to have the best interests of the Scottish people at heart? If Balliol has done wrongly by the community of Scotland, surely his own clergy are the ones best suited to persuade him of the error of his ways and convince him to amend his judgment."

Jay snorted. "Your faith in the impartiality of the Scottish church is singularly ill-founded. One has only to examine the careers of men like Bishop Wishart of Glasgow, to see that they are as wedded to the cause of Scottish independence as any member of Balliol's rabble."

"That is why Brother Torquil and I are instructed to look elsewhere for counsel among Scotland's religious," Arnault returned calmly. "With respect, I would urge you to let us be off about this business without further delay. The Visitor's intentions are clearly spelled out in his orders. And the longer we remain here, the greater the danger that things will deteriorate beyond anyone's ability to salvage something for the people of Scotland."

The protocols Arnault had brought from Paris had been discreetly worded to allow him and Torquil far greater freedom of movement than normally was permitted any brother of their Order. The doc.u.ments bore the signature of Hugues de Paraud, second only to the Grand Master; and much as Jay would have liked to dispute the point, he could not countermand those orders without himself committing a breach of authority. In the end, he had grudgingly given them permission to depart. But Arnault was certain that the Master of England would use every means at his disposal to keep an eye on them.

Their first destination was Balantrodoch, ostensibly to deliver doc.u.ments to Luc from the Paris treasury.

In truth, they required Luc's current a.s.sessment of the less obvious aspects of the Scottish situation.

Sketchy reports of the sack of Berwick had preceded them by at least a week; but the prospect of an eyewitness account was sufficient inducement for John de Sautre, now Preceptor of Scotland, to convene a second chapter meeting on the day of their arrival. The brethren listened with keen attention, bombarding the new arrivals with questions, after which discussion shifted to speculation about the direction the conflict was likely to take next.

"We are given to understand that the Scottish earls abandoned the siege at Carlisle and withdrew to Annandale," Torquil told them, presenting a Scots perspective. "Apparently, they were able to inflict only slight damage on the town's defenses. At last report, the Scottish host were said to be rea.s.sembling at Jedburgh, and are using it as a base for harrying across the border into Northumberland."

"What response has Edward made?" Flannan Fraser asked.

"So far," said Arnault, "he has declined to pursue them. When we left Berwick, Longshanks was gathering his forces in preparation to march north toward Dunbar. If he takes it, his next objective will certainly be Edinburgh. And if he isn't halted at Edinburgh, there will be nothing to prevent him from advancing across the firth and into the heart of Scotland."

Afterward, when John de Sautre made a clumsy attempt to sound out their next intentions, Arnault repeated the gist of what he had already told Jay regarding their orders to approach various Scottish clergymen, additionally revealing that they planned to go first to the Abbot of Scone-which, indeed, they did, though not for the reasons stated. A short time later, while Torquil saw their horses shod and made arrangements for an early departure on the morrow, Arnault sought out Luc de Brabant in his treasury office, to deliver the treasury doc.u.ments that he did, indeed, carry.

"Torquil is not with you?" Luc asked, as he admitted Arnault and glanced into the corridor behind him before closing the door.

"He's seeing to the horses," Arnault replied. He cast a glance at Luc in pointed query as to the security of the room, but Luc only gave him a wry smile as he waved Arnault to a bench along the outside wall and sat down beside him.

"We can speak here. What news from Paris?"

"Oh, you'll find nothing to alarm you in those," Arnault replied, handing over the official dispatches.

"Thanks to your able stewardship, the fiscal stability of the Scottish houses is above reproach."

"Faint praise, given the state of the rest of the country." Luc laid aside the doc.u.ments without even looking at them. "I a.s.sume, since you're going on to Scone, that you've been given some direction in that regard."

"We have," Arnault agreed. "The fate of the Fifth Temple continues to generate grave concerns within the Inner Circle. Having determined that the Stone of Destiny may be a cornerstone on more than one level, they feel that certain clarification is essential before we proceed on any large scale."

Luc only nodded as Arnault went on.

"My official orders reflect the realization that the political situation in Scotland is rapidly deteriorating.

Balliol's leadership is disintegrating. The Council of Twelve have been no more effective. The siege of Carlisle was doomed to failure before it began, and now the earls are set to clash with Edward's armies at Dunbar-almost certainly without any chance of standing against him. As things stand, Scotland seems likely to lose her independence within the year."

"Does the Visitor really think the clergy could make a difference?" Luc asked.

"I doubt it. They were able-eventually-to mitigate the horror at Berwick; but I very much doubt that their words will count for much where Balliol is concerned. Nonetheless, I am charged with the task of making the approach- which gives Torquil and me ample reason to travel on to Scone, to discuss such matters with Abbot Henry."

"And also, I warrant, to discuss the Stone," Luc said, nodding his understanding.

Arnault echoed his nod. "That reflects your own recommendations, over the past several years. Under the Canmores, the vitality of the Scottish monarchy was always dependent on the power vested in the Stone of Destiny. And we know that, at least from the time of Balliol's enthronement, something was not altogether right about the Stone.

"Taking all of this into account, Torquil and I have been sent to make the following determinations: Firstly, can the Stone of Destiny somehow be reempowered? And secondly, would such an infusion of power revitalize this present Scottish monarchy and thus enable it to keep Scotland free?"

"Questions I have asked myself more than once, in the intervening years."

"What about Abbot Henry?" Arnault asked. "Do you think he has considered such questions, as Keeper of the Stone? More to the point, is he likely to become hysterical if he learns that our investigative methods are-ah-less than orthodox?"

"Actually, I have reason to suspect that he would be quite open to such things," Luc replied thoughtfully.

"Remember that the folk of these Celtic isles have always had a high regard for the mystical. Scone is an Augustinian house, but they take much of their spirituality from Columban sources; you may not be aware that many of Saint Columba's relics are housed at Dunkeld Cathedral, but a few hours north of Scone.

Some of Scone's most celebrated sons had connections with the community at Iona, where Columba established his first mission. And of course, it was Saint Columba who brought the Stone to Scotland."

"I'm aware of that," Arnault replied. "And long before Columba's time, that the Stone is said to have been Jacob's pillow in the wilderness-which perhaps gives it affinities with another precious Hallow of the Holy Land, already in the keeping of the Temple-which is why I was given the loan of this."

From out of the breast of his habit he produced a flattened packet, which he had been carrying next to his heart since leaving Paris, suspended from a white silk cord around his neck. It was roughly the size and shape of a small book, wrapped in oilskin and then in several layers of silk, which, when he carefully unfolded them, revealed the precious and potent Breastplate of the High Priests of Israel. Glinting in the wan light of the room's one window, the twelve gems st.i.tched to the stiffened linen reflected a profusion of rainbow colors.

Luc's eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

"The urgency must be even greater than I feared, if they allowed you to bring that here," he breathed.

"You took a terrible risk!"

"But one deemed acceptable, given the circ.u.mstances." Arnault began rewrapping the relic. "Like the Stone, the Breastplate is a legacy left to the world by our Hebrew forebears, who built the first four Temples at Jerusalem. It was by means of the Breastplate that we first received the revelation that Scotland was to provide the foundation site of the Fifth Temple, with the Stone as cornerstone.

Hopefully, by bringing the Breastplate and Stone together in an appropriate manner, we can discover how best to proceed."

"I regret that I cannot accompany you," Luc said gravely. "Even though I have the utmost faith in Abbot Henry, I know my presence would rea.s.sure him. But I am already regarded as the spy of Paris, within these walls. I feel certain that de Sautre has orders to keep me under close watch."

"He probably has similar orders concerning us," Arnault replied, slipping the Breastplate back into its hiding place. "He is still Jay's man."

"Oh, he is indeed!" Luc agreed. "And his toadying younger brother is Jay's right hand, down in London.

What happens here, you can be sure Jay knows about within the week."

"Well, he's on his way to Cyprus with Guy de Foresta and the annual responsions from the English province, so his intelligence will be somewhat interrupted for a few months," Arnault said with some satisfaction, "but the interest of the de Sautre brothers will be inconvenient enough. I've already been grilled about the trip to Scone." He shook his head and sighed.

"And we still don't know what connection they-and Jay-had with those missing pagan relics-or maybe even with what happened that night in the scriptorium. If it weren't for the likelihood that black magic connects the deaths of Alexander III and the Maid and whatever has happened to the Stone, I might not be as concerned; the evidence that similar stirrings might be afoot here at Balantrodoch is purely circ.u.mstantial, and there's nothing I can see that connects these phenomena with the larger Scottish questions.

"But it is a measure of these sorely troubled times that we must even consider that opposition might come from within our own Order, and on this level."

"Aye," said Luc, "we must be as wily as serpents, as the Scriptures tell us. And there is another thing you may not have thought of." He gave a heavy sigh as Arnault looked at him in question.

"As precious as we hold our vows to the Order and its work, we are bound to an even higher work through our ties to le Cercle. And having said that, we must be prepared for the day when our fidelity to that work may even require us to go against our knightly vows to the Order at large."

Chapter Sixteen.

ARNAULT AND TORQUIL LEFT BALANTRODOCH THE NEXT morning as planned. John de Sautre had nothing further to say regarding their plans, but by the time the pair were skirting the vast mound of Edinburgh Castle, Torquil was certain they were being followed.

"Are you surprised?" Arnault asked, as they rode toward the ferry that would take them across the Firth of Forth.

"No, I'm angry!" Torquil retorted, smoldering. "Who does John de Sautre think he is? You showed him our orders. They're nothing to do with him."

"He thinks he's the Preceptor of Scotland, and we're operating in his territory," Arnault said mildly. "Also, I expect that Brian de Jay has told him to keep an eye on us. Jay regards us as a threat, because we're outside his command."

"I know all that," Torquil muttered.

The sense of being shadowed persisted as they continued northward past the firth, avoiding the vast ecclesiastical complex at Dunfermline and heading on toward Kinross and Perth. Whoever their shadowers were, they were careful not to show themselves.

"Do you think they're de Sautre's lackeys?" Torquil muttered in an undertone as he and Arnault rode along.

"That would seem the most likely a.s.sumption," Arnault replied, resisting any impulse to glance behind them.

"We could set a trap for them," Torquil said.

"To what purpose? I made no secret of the fact that we're on our way to Scone. It's simpler for everyone if our shy friends don't realize we're on to them. If they are de Sautre's men, all we would accomplish by confronting them would be to make him wonder why we thought we might be followed."

"What if they aren't de Sautre's men?" Torquil asked, with a sour glance aside.

It had already occurred to Arnault that Brian de Jay and the de Sautres might not be the only ones taking a hostile interest in their affairs.

"If they're not de Sautre's men," he said, "we're probably equally well advised to leave them alone, at least for the moment. If we stop this present contingent from trailing us, they might be replaced by others more adroit and more dangerous."

Their shadow companions continued to keep pace with them. By the time the two Templars came within sight of Scone Abbey, the habit of vigilance had become wearisome. It was with some relief that they heard the outer gates of the abbey grange close behind them.

Abbot Henry accorded them a cordial welcome. He had grown visibly grayer and more careworn since their last visit-which was hardly surprising, for the instability of John Balliol's kingship had so undermined the country as a whole that there was scant peace of mind to be found anywhere, even within the supposedly detached confines of a monastic community.

Sketchy news regarding the fall of Berwick had reached the abbey several days before, and the abbot was eager to hear further details. While accommodations were being readied in the guest house, he invited Arnault and Torquil to join him in his private study for a light collation. After offering a prayer of thanksgiving for the food and the safe arrival of his guests, he himself poured wine for the three of them.

"It pleases me to see both of you again," he a.s.sured them, "though I would that you brought more gladsome news. But before we speak of darker matters, first tell me how it is with my friend Brother Luc."

"He is well, Reverend Father, and sends you his warmest regards," Arnault said.

"Pleased am I, always, to receive his regard," the abbot replied. "He is a kind and gentle man. The Temple is well served by him, as is our Lord. But, tell me what brings the pair of you to Scone? Not merely to be the bearers of ill tidings, I trust."

"No, to ask your a.s.sistance."

"My a.s.sistance?"

"Officially," Arnault said with a faint smile, "we are sent to seek the counsel of you and others of the Scottish clergy concerning what may be done to temper John Balliol's folly with regard to Edward of England. Unfortunately, since Edward is marching north to engage a Scottish force at Dunbar, even as we speak, I very much doubt that he will be inclined to deal gently with the Scots or their king. Nor are the pleas of the clergy likely to be any more effective than they were at Berwick."

Abbot Henry's brown eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he measured both knights. "You said "~officially.'

Am I to infer that there are also unofficial reasons for your visit?"