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Chapter Twenty-eight

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Day Two

David

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Callum was alive.

The messenger from Elisa intercepted them on the steps of the synagogue with the news. David felt a little light-headed at how close they’d come to disaster. Their plan to avoid bloodshed, to which David himself had agreed and thought a good idea, had so very nearly cost them the war.

Then, almost instantly, he had to shift gears as he was ushered into the synagogue, to find himself facing a dozen bearded men, most of whom were twice his age, if not three times. Most also didn’t appear to appreciate his arrival in their midst. Jews tended not to go in for obsequiousness, and they made a clear distinction between the obeisance owed to men who ruled on earth and what was owed to heaven.

As it turned out, the chief rabbi, who was the head of the synagogue, was actually ill, and several of the other men were jostling amongst themselves for power and control over this meeting.

In a way, it was nice to know people were the same all over. It made them more predictable. Given what had just happened in Aquitaine, David could really go in for a little predictability.

Under normal circumstances, as a gentile, he wouldn’t have been allowed in the synagogue at all, but he’d put on a kippot—the medieval version of a yarmulke—and he was the King of England after all. They couldn’t ignore him just because they didn’t like what he had to say. More to the point, they couldn’t ignore him even though they really didn’t want to believe what he had to say.

That was okay. David could understand their reluctance to hear him out.

But they ushered him into a meeting room anyway, and stood around him, most with impatient and disbelieving expressions on their faces as he explained what was going to happen tonight.

After he finished his initial explanation, the uproar, very much akin to what he’d faced in the Paris Temple an hour ago, started up all over again. David looked from one man to another, seeking allies, and didn’t see much to reassure him.

He could understand their inability to see what was happening here, even as it frustrated him. They’d all suffered at the hands of French kings, as had their parents and grandparents before them—for generations. Many strict followers of Jewish law refused to eat with gentiles or do business with them, though the Paris community tended to be more cosmopolitan, following several rabbis who taught that Christians were bound by the ways of religion and thus could be associated with.

It was certainly what Aaron had decided. While David would have preferred to have him by his side, the timeline couldn’t be argued with, and he could feel his internal clock ticking.

Finally, an ancient man, hunched over and using a cane, who’d been introduced at the beginning as Isaac, rose to his feet. He’d been sitting in a straight-back chair, a concession to his age, since everybody else was standing. Conversation ceased as he progressed across the carpet, the only adornment in the entire room. Then, as he reached David, he straightened to his full height, which wasn’t saying much, since he ended up at least eight inches shorter than David. He had bright blue eyes, not at all rheumy, which David would have expected, given his age.

Isaac gestured to where Darren stood with his back to the door. “Can you understand why we might distrust you? What reason could you have for bringing him here?” Isaac was assuming Darren was a moor, a Muslim. David hadn’t known for certain he’d be mistaken for one, but he’d brought Darren specifically so he might.

“I bring him with me to show you that in England, we do not discriminate against anyone because of their religion. I can have a Christian, a Muslim, and a Jew at my side and have peace. I believe what I believe. You believe what you believe. I do not judge you, or punish you, for it—as long as you don’t inflict those beliefs on anyone else.”

Isaac looked at Darren for a long ten seconds and then back to David. “This is something our brother Aaron told us,” he narrowed his eyes at David, “the Aaron who even now is imprisoned in la fosse noire. How can you allow that to happen and yet claim he is valuable to you?”

“It is because he is valuable that he allowed himself to be imprisoned,” David said. “It is our intent to get everyone out of Paris, not just those we can easily save or are happy to come. Aaron knew his presence in the prison would help ensure it.”

Isaac hobbled over to Darren, who also straightened to his full height at his approach. “And what say you? In our house, everyone speaks his opinion, regardless of how unfavorable.”

Darren glanced for a moment towards David, who raised one shoulder slightly. They’d talked about what to say. It was up to Darren to decide how to say it.

He met Isaac’s eyes. “I choose not to hate anyone. I can find common ground with most anyone, even those who hate me.”

Isaac gave a snort, though of laughter, disgust, or disbelief David didn’t know. Then he swung around in a surprisingly nimble move. Once on his feet, it hadn’t taken long for him to loosen up. “Many of our people have left Paris with yours these last weeks. We haven’t heard that any have reached safety.”

“The first of them began arriving in London last week,” David said. “I myself met with several families in Aquitaine before I came to Paris. Perhaps we have lost some, but I don’t know of any. We have people up and down the country risking their own lives to ensure it.”

“You cannot blame us for having trouble believing you. It is the kind of thing we have heard before and believed, only to find ourselves betrayed.”

“You’re being evicted from Paris now, so maybe it doesn’t matter whether or not you believe me.” David was struggling to keep the exasperation out of his voice. “You have until nightfall, and then the Templars are going to ‘raid’ your houses.” As David said the word raid he made air quotes with his fingers, which probably meant nothing to them but he’d done it instinctively. “You will be marched out of the city, and I hope you will accept transportation on the boats we’re providing to take you to the English Channel. You might even find family members there to greet you.”

Isaac canted his head. “How is that?”

“Five hundred people means a lot of boats, most of which are provided by merchants from London, many of whom are kin to you. And, of course, your family and friends from the prison should be there too.”

David had debated whether to mention this last item, but he could see more objections forming in the eyes of the men behind Isaac.

This time, the conversation among the men in the room was so lengthy, David felt like he was at a meeting of the Ents in Lord of the Rings.

Finally, Isaac returned to him. “You speak the truth? The Templars are coming for us?”

“Yes.”

He nodded. “We will pray, and then we will prepare. When your Templar friends come, we will be ready. Thank you for bringing this news to us.”

Isaac began to turn away, as if it was decided, and so it seemed from the general murmur and nods, but then David put out a hand. “One more thing, if you will. If one of your number would be interested in—” he paused, not quite sure of the phrasing, “—not so much joining us as liaising with us, we all might feel more comfortable. It is not my wish to hide anything from you.”

That caused almost more of a hubbub than the idea that this would be their last afternoon in Paris. Everyone was speaking very fast Parisian French, which wasn’t quite the same as the Norman French David spoke. He would have to ask Henri later if he’d missed anything important.

Again, the issue was finally resolved not by consensus among everyone—or at least not that David could determine—but when a single man stepped forward. He hadn’t distinguished himself from the others up until now but, upon closer inspection, he was cast from a different mold. For starters, he was dressed in completely current clothing, with short hair and a trimmed beard. In age, he was no older than David.

Isaac introduced him. “This is my grandson, Jacob. He will come with you.”

Jacob bowed his head briefly, and that appeared to be that. The entire process had taken half an hour at most. A minute later, David found himself walking down the corridor towards the door, this time with Jacob as an additional companion.

Gerard hadn’t attended the meeting, having been left at the front to keep an eye on the comings and goings from the street. Now he eyed Jacob. “Are you sure about this, my lord?”

“If your king hadn’t asked for someone to come with him, I would have volunteered myself,” Jacob said in reply, even though Gerard had been talking to David. Jacob’s gaze was steady on Gerard’s face, and there was no defiance in his voice, even though interrupting a conversation between a king and his servant just wasn’t done.

Instead of taking offense, which wasn’t like him anyway, David found himself amused and curious at the same time.

“Why choose you?” Gerard asked.

“I was educated in Constantinople and have returned to find my people impoverished and reviled. Wearing this,” he put his hand over the yellow circle on his chest that marked him as a Jew, “is an anathema to me.”

David was in a bit of a hurry to leave the synagogue, since the Vincennes mission to rescue Philippe’s family was next on his agenda, but he also knew if he didn’t get it right with the Jewish community, the entire endeavor would be in vain. “If you’re to come with me, you’d better take it off. No Jew can be seen entering the Templar commandery—today of all days. In fact, if you come with me to England, you will never have to wear it again.”

“If you mean to imply that Jews in England are never blamed for diseases or the weather, I do not believe you.” Jacob’s lip curled in disdain. “My uncle was killed in Oxford the year I was born.”

“That was the year I was born too,” David said in a mild voice, thinking Jacob wouldn’t be persuaded by the usual arguments, and maybe it wasn’t his place to convince Jacob of anything anyway. “I do not control the behavior of every one of my citizens—or any of them, for that matter. But I do control what happens afterwards, who is punished and who is blamed. If you’d followed what has been happening in England since I became king, you would know that.”

At the sharp words, Jacob’s spine straightened, and he appeared to be about to retreat. David decided it also wasn’t his job to wait for him. Either he was their liaison or he wasn’t. Either he was going to take off that badge or he wasn’t.

Henri had been standing at the door, waiting for David’s signal to open it. He would be leading them again, which was good because David didn’t know the way back. Their small party started down the street, Darren at David’s side this time, and Gerard bringing up the rear.

“I don’t remember the last time I saw you angry,” Darren said.

“I’m not angry.” David was taking long strides. “I’m fuming.”

“People believe what they need to believe, sometimes against all evidence. That’s why the Jewish community came back to Paris after the last expulsion, and that’s why they fear leaving. It’s the unknown that’s the problem, not anything you said. Isaac is on board, anyway, even if Jacob is not.”

David let out a breath and told himself Darren was right. He could do only so much. The rest had to be up to every individual person, all of them making their own choices. That was the promise he’d held out to Henri. Anything else was unacceptable.

They were within sight of the Paris Temple when hurrying footsteps came from behind them. David didn’t turn around to see who was following, assuming if it was someone who meant him harm, Gerard would tell him. As it turned out, it was Jacob after all, and they went through the gate together, at which point David finally stopped and turned.

Jacob stood a few paces from the gatehouse, a huge grin on his face and no badge on his chest. He appeared completely uncowed by David’s anger. “I’m with you, my lord. And if they didn’t say it in the synagogue, please know it was because they were overwhelmed by the news you brought, and no offense was intended. But I’ll say it now: thank you for the opportunity to live.”