Living a life of luxury can lead to dangerous missions, long days, and gorgeous women. |
Chapter 2: Luxuries Paris, France June 17-July 3, 1306 As I stepped outside of the chapel, I saw a driver standing next to a luxurious carriage with two of the finest horses I had ever seen in my life. In the drivers hands, he held a sign saying "Sir James Kreis" in crude hand-drawn letters. I approached him with a deep feeling of excitement. "Sir James?" He asked as I came closer. "That's me" I said, feeling as though I was dreaming. "I am your driver," he said in perfect French, "here to take you to your new estate. As you'll see on the inside of the carriage, there is a bottle of the finest wine I could find and, if you wish, I have three girls waiting to meet you in your bed chambers as soon as you arrive." Feeling like a dream, but knowing it was everything I wanted, I shook his hand and climbed into my new carriage, giving my driver orders to take me to my estate. As promised, the wine was sitting in a bucket of pure silver, a glass of the finest crystal next to it. Helping myself to a glass, I looked as the city passed by, sipping my wine as I wondered what else to expect. As we left the actual city and into the countryside, I saw the walls of a beautiful estate rise as we ascended the hill. As we got closer and slower, I realized this was to be my new home. We entered the gates of iron, and I was treated to a view of marvelous trees and a fountain, topped with a cross made of ruby encrusted gold. The grand staircase that led to the front of this mansion was made with marble, the house of the finest polished stone. The estate was small, but still a more than perfect place to call home. My driver opened my door, offering a hand in assistance. I politely declined and entered my new home. Decorated with crosses here and there, the house was the finest I had ever seen. A large staff awaited me, with bows and names. Informing me that my previous possessions were already in place, I was escorted to my room for a night of fun and relaxation. As I opened my door of thick, dark wood, I was treated to the sight of three girls (as promised) in my new bed. The girls wore nothing but smiles and a red cross around their necks. They all began to walk over to me, one undressing my top and another undressing my bottom. The last was apparently in charge of keeping my mouth busy. I was brought to my new bed and slept very little on my first night in my new bed. Rising very early, I looked around the room to ensure it was all real. The girls still laid in the bed in various positions and I saw a small tray at the other end of the room. I gently got up, careful to not wake the girls, and walked to the tray to find a letter bearing the Templar seal. I opened it up and recognized the fancy scrawl of the Grand Master. Sir James, I hope your night went well. Your first night is always one to remember. Whenever you rise, please come to your gardens and meet with me. I'm sure one of your staff will be able to direct you. Grand Master Jacques de Molay I quickly dressed in the clothes that had been laid out and hurried downstairs. After a few missed turns and a patient maid, I was sitting at a small table in my garden with coffee and toast sitting out, the grand Master patiently reading something in his hands. I approached him, feeling deeply underdressed while the Grand Master sat in fine robes. Looking up from his papers, he noticed me with a smile. "I would invite you sit, but this is your home now." Laughing at myself for waiting on his command to sit, I pulled up a chair as a servant came from seemingly nowhere to fill a cup coffee and buttered a slice of toast for me. After setting it before me, he vanished as quickly as he appeared. The Grand Master waited for me to finish my light breakfast, remarking how he had commissioned this estate's construction many years ago and how many men has passed through it before finally buying bigger and better places. The idea was inconceivable. After finishing my light meal, The Grand Master gave a look of seriousness on his face. "I apologize for throwing it on you last night of your mission." "Please, sir, don't feel bad about it. I am grateful to serve the Order however I can." With a sort of dark smile, the old man shook his head. "I came this morning to give you the details on this mission of yours. You play a pivotal role, something I cannot entrust to Roache alone." Intrigued, I lean forward to hear Molay better. "King Phillip is a fool." he says in a rough, but matter of fact way. To speak so openly against the king, I was almost afraid of the royal guard hopping from the bushes after he said that. He continued, "He seeks to further this war with the English, never just letting it slide. The English have offered a peace treaty. He has refused it. Even now he is hiring mercenaries to bolster his numbers. However, he is beginning to realize that his coffers are empty. He has a group of 6,000 German mercenaries, all ready to kill the second they receive their money. If they don't get paid, they may revolt in Paris." Having visited Germany in my time, I knew German mercenaries were nothing to play with. On several occasions, I had seen Sir Fredrich from Germany punch a man to death with a single blow. 6,000 of him pissed off and in the streets seemed like a bad idea. "Where do we come into this situation?" I ask just a little anxiously. The Grand Master smiles at my questions. "We will be loaning him a large amount of money from our own allowances from the Pope. With this, he can afford his war and may even get an upper hand. However, he will also be indebted to us. Let's face it: With the Holy Lands gone, it is only a matter of time before the Church refuses to continue funding us. Already they are trying to make me join those accursed Knight Hospitaler. But, with a king in our pocket, we gain an early advantage. If we lose anything else, we will still hold France." The plan was ingenious. Having a king in your pocket was always a good idea, especially if that king was like Phillip. "Where do I fit into this, sir?" The Grand Master leaned back, hands behind his head. "You will be traveling with myself and Sir Edward, as I said last night. However, neither of you will be in the negotiating room. I am quite sure the Assassins have heard of this plan and seek some way to stop it. I chose you because I have heard of your unique gift. Edward has it as well. Together, you will scour the area and root out any Assassins you find. You may have to provide proof that the men you kill are plotting against the crown. Take these feathers," he waves his hand as a servant brings a box and slides it to me, "on each one is a letter describing their role in a plot to kill King Phillip that I have designed. It is not foolproof, but may work. Any questions?" He looks at me with deep eyes. I shake my head no. "Good," he continues, "Then I expect you at our headquarters first thing in the morning of July 4th. Be ready for anything." He stood up, I followed suit. He started to walk away before turning around and bowing, saying "May the father of understanding guide you." and walked away. I repeated his mantra, with a feeling of excitement in my heart. Soon, I would begin my assault on the Assassin order. After the Grand Master let, I was escorted to a room on the second story that was filled with weapons of the finest make and armor fir for kings. The material was light enough to keep me quick, as this was my fighting style, but strong enough to stop the stoutest blade. With excitement, I suited up the pure white armor, emblazoned with a red cross. For the next few days, my regiment was basically the same: Wake up early, eat a light breakfast, train until midday, eat a medium lunch, train until evening, eat a large dinner, read in the massive library I had been provided until my eyes fell deep from exhaustion, go to bed, and start it all again. I had decided to be the best Templar I could be, hoping o prove my worth on this mission, but knew if I did not have my gift, I would not be going. From a young age, I was always able to sense trouble. I would see people in tinges of blue, for friendly, red for non-friendly, and gold for people who interested me. My mother was the purest blue I had ever seen. My father was always gold, until the day he took his knife and plunged it deep into my mother's midsection, killing her and my unborn brother in his drunken rage. I never forgave him for that. Not even when I plunged that same knife deep into his neck while he slept. I was 13, then, and had learned my true purpose in life. With training, I learned by 18 that my father never killed my mother: Human nature did. My father was a lost soul, seeking guidance in his life, seeking some way to bring peace to his troubled soul. He tried drinking to find that answer, but learned it was never at the bottom of a bottle of wine. Had he been guided and told what his purpose was: To work hard, earn a decent wage, and provide for his family. Well, maybe he wouldn't be lying in an unmarked grave. On the final night before my meeting with the Grand Master, I kept having an uneasy feeling. The books I was reading held no interest to me as I kept feeling as though I was being watched. I instructed my servants to close all windows and to double to patrols, hooping to feel at ease. Exhausted, I went to my room and went through the process of undressing. "I wouldn't take those clotes off, if I were you. It might be embarrassing for your Templar masters to find your body naked." The female voice from behind me had initially frightened me until my training kicked in. However, it seemed my cockiness was the first to the party. I smiled, "Are you sure you want me to clothed so your eyes are focused above my belt, rather than below?" There was a slight chuckle and shuffling. "Please," the voice continued, "everyone knows you Templars only have cock for your Grand Master." I felt a sharp object on my back, right behind my heart. I raised my hands, slowly moving to the top of my bedpost, trying to keep her talking. "Well, if you're so determined to kill me, why not do it after a quick tumble in my bed?" The shaking knife told me she was stifling a chuckle. "Are you begging for your life now?" She said with a firm voice and a harder press of her knife. "Oh, no." I said in an increasingly serious manner, "I was simply giving you the chance for some fun before I ended your life." With that, I pulled the dagger I kept on top of my bedpost and swirled around to aim it at her, only to find the dagger was in her hand and in mine, aimed at her threateningly, was a Polish sausage. As she laughed, I began to notice how beautiful she was. I also began to notice how defenseless she was as I reached out and took my dagger from her hand and pointed it at her breast. Her laughter faded, only to be added with an initial tremor of fear, then a blank expression. "Do it, if you must." She told me in a calm manner. I suddenly had lost my nerve. How could I kill this woman? She was so young, so beautiful, so...gone. In my daydreaming, I had failed to see her run from me and out the window into a wagon of hay. "Damn that conveniently placed soft spot." I said to myself as I began to give chase. I was out the front door by the time I realized that, with a smoke bomb, she was gone. I considered chasing after her, but knew it was pointless. I locked all points of entry in my room and went into a fitful sleep, filled with dreams of fire, screaming, and that woman, holding a child that looked disturbingly like me. |