December 1307 A.D. – Paris

The same night that the Grand Master had arranged for the confessions he was moved from the Paris Temple, into solitary confinement at Corbeil. Over the next days, alone with his thoughts, he tried to make some sense of the current situation. He had never been a theologian. But he could see that he was going to need to make some careful arguments in the coming months if he was to save the Order.

His mind returned to over forty years in the past, to the discussions in the chapel with Humbert. It was becoming painfully clear that the beliefs that underpinned their initiation rites were going to be intensely examined. As a fighting man, Jacques had never really thought too carefully about the subject. But the time had come for him to make sense of his own religion.

The Templars believed in the word of Christ and all of his teachings. Far from the idolatry with which they were being charged, the Order believed in the purity of the word of God. Following in a long tradition, dating back to the Christian church’s earliest days, the Order did not revere the cross, or the worship of saints. But they certainly viewed themselves as Christians. Better Christians in fact than those who followed all the traditions of the Church of Rome.

De Molay had only confessed to the charge of spitting on the cross. And to him, that wasn’t even a sin to be confessed. Although he didn’t believe in the symbol he would have preferred not to treat it with contempt. But this shared act between the Templars, served as a strong bond.

The Grand Master wondered how, or if, Pope Clement could be persuaded of the Order’s genuine commitment to Christ.

On one of the long lonely afternoons in his cell, Jacques was pondering on that very issue, when a sharp rap interrupted his stream of thought.

The jailor shouted de Molay’s name through the grill in the door. Jacques roused himself from the floor and approached the grimy opening. The key clanked in the lock and the door swung open. The jailor beckoned the Master out into the passage. His captor was a heavyset man who was sweating profusely from the heat of the torches that lined the dank, dark tunnel that was starved of fresh air.

“You have visitors. From the Pope.”

The words were growled. The guard looked like he would prefer the Angel of Death to be Jacques’ visitor.

Clement’s representatives were awaiting him in a room at the front of the prison maintained especially for visitors. The Templar Master was glad to get back to some form of civilisation. He was all too aware his appearance must be appalling. The cardinals however, were too polite to draw attention to his looks or his clothing. They wanted to put the Templar as much at ease as they could, given the unusual circumstances. They pulled a chair into the centre of the room into which de Molay sank gratefully.

“Brother Jacques, the Holy Father has been informed by King Philip, that confessions have been received from all of the Templar brothers who have come before the inquisitors.”

The Master, nodded. Not that they’d had much choice he thought.

“His Holiness would like to check that the confessions are related to the initiation rites. The problems around which subject were covered in your discussions in May.”

The master nodded again. He cleared his throat, and began to start to speak, but his voice was too croaky to allow him to be easily understood. One of the cardinals walked over to a table in the corner of the room and returned with a cup of water. Jacques swallowed greedily and found that his voice had recovered.

“Indeed. Apart from those unfortunates whose minds were unhinged by the most cruel and violent torture. They would have betrayed their own mothers. The others confessed merely to the initiation ceremony.”

The cardinals exchanged worried glances at the word merely. As the Pope had told them, de Molay seemed in denial of the difficulties in which he found himself. But they were reassured that there seemed nothing more serious to which a confession had been made. They told the Grand Master they would convey this information to his Holiness.

They exited the room, and Jacques was returned to the tender care of the Corbeil jailor.