August 10th 1215 A.D. – Templar Church London – The Meeting

Allard had spent the past three weeks in lodgings he had found in London. The leader of his Temple chapter had informed him of the necessity of a visit to England the previous month. It would be necessary to find somewhere to live, to inform the London Temple Church of his location and await instructions.

Allard’s lodgings were functional, but not particularly comfortable. His bedchamber was on the second floor of a town house, reached by rickety stairs at the rear of the building. A cloth was hung round the room, to keep out drafts, as well as invading hordes of flies and spiders.

The furniture was limited to a battered wooden bed, bench and stool. A feather mattress with a bolster attached was on top of the bed. Spread out over the surface was a quilted striped cloth and over that a green-cloth coverlet. A cushion had been laid out for his head. All of them looked like they had seen better days. But he had slept in worse surroundings and they would suffice.

It was nearing nightfall, when Allard turned his horse off Fleet Street. Turning towards the river, the top of the round Temple Church was just visible in the gloom of the early evening. He approached the cluster of buildings slowly. A summons to a meeting such as he had received yesterday was rare for a mere knight.

Experienced men he had met had told him to take care in these situations. Allard dismounted and passed the horse to the waiting groom. Glad to take respite from the wet of the late summer drizzle, he entered the kitchen. Two large brass pots were suspended above the fire. Five fellow knights were sat around a wooden table, waiting for dinner, with varying degrees of patience.

They looked up as Allard removed his mantle and sank gratefully into a seat.

“Brother Aymeric is already waiting for you.”

The Treasurer of the Temple gestured brusquely with his head towards the door of the church as he spoke.

Allard rose and walked to the door.

“He’s not alone. There are three of them.”

Allard paused, nodded and left the kitchen.

He entered the round chapel of the Temple Church. Despite the light rain, a late evening sun had emerged and it shone through the long, tall windows that pierced the thick stone chapel walls. Allard caught a brief glimpse of an insipid rainbow. Through the gloomy light he could see three men standing towards the far door. He recognised Aymeric de St. Maur, the Master of the London Temple.

To his right he saw the cragged features of William Marshal, the first Earl of Pembroke. It was no surprise. The Earl was a long time supporter of the Templars. The third man had his back to Allard. He turned. Allard’s face blanched in astonishment. Louis, the son of Philip of France stared coolly at him. He was at war with King John, what purpose could he have at the Temple? Aymeric gestured Allard forward.

“Come Brother Knight. I would speak to you of our plans”.

Allard’s mind was in turmoil. He was sure that whatever plans were to be discussed would involve high stakes. Whilst waiting for the Master to reveal his thoughts, he thought of what little he knew of the current political situation in England.

Earlier that summer, the barons had forced King John, into granting far reaching rights to the nobles of England at Runnymede. Along with his fellow Templars, Allard had been a little surprised at the King’s concessions. But it was likely to make no difference to their daily lives. Their main interest had been that John had resided at the new Temple in London during the negotiations.

Allard had heard recently, that rumours were rife that John might renege on these promises. The word was even being spread that the barons might appeal for military help to France. Presumably that explained Louis’ presence at this meeting. But wasn’t the Earl of Pembroke a committed supporter of King John? And wasn’t he supposed to be renowned throughout the kingdom for his loyalty in all matters? Allard willed himself to keep his concentration on the matter at hand.

“Brother Allard, no doubt you are surprised to see the three of us together?

“Well, I have some more surprises for you. And a task we need you to undertake. Bear in mind this is directed personally from Brother Guillame.”

Allard was intrigued. He knew that Guillaume de Chartres was the Grand Master of the Knights Templar based in the Holy Land at Acre. The fact that he had reached out from the Order’s headquarters to London reinforced his initial impression that high stakes were involved. Allard took a deep breath and listened carefully as Brother Aymeric started to explain.