He’d apologize to the families with whom he’d been negotiating her betrothal. He’d probably show them the letter. They’d hear about it anyway.

It would be highly embarrassing. But yes, he thought sadly, it would probably work.

For another hour, he paced about in his orchard, going over the thing this way and that, glancing from time to time at the the city below, where the mist was gradually thinning and the houses beginning to emerge.

After that, he decided to return home. Out of force of habit, he followed the path that he and Naomi always took, which led down the slope and into the city past the great fortress of the Temple Knights. There were still some wreaths of mist where the ground fell away beside the lane, but he could see the fort’s walls clearly enough from some distance.

He was about a hundred paces from the Temple’s gateway when he saw the crowd. He wondered what it could mean. Then he noticed a gleam of swords and armor, and saw that a cart was emerging from the gate.

Was this a bullion shipment setting off? He drew closer. There was something odd about the cavalcade ahead of him, but he couldn’t decide what it was. Another fifty paces, and he realized. The mounted men were not Templars. They were the king’s men-at-arms. There was also a troop of men following the cart. They weren’t armed, though. Some of them looked as if they were only half-dressed. As he stared, he saw that they were shackled together with chains. It seemed to him that he had seen some of their faces before. Then he realized.

They were Templars. Knights Templar. In chains.

“What is happening?” he asked a fellow in the crowd before the gateway.

“The Templars are being arrested.”

“Which Templars?”

“All of them. Every Templar in France. In all Christendom, I believe.”

“By whose orders?”

“King’s orders. And the pope’s.” The man grinned. “Same thing these days, isn’t it, now that our king owns the pope.” The fellow seemed rather proud that France now controlled the Holy Father.

“Upon what charge?”

“All kinds of crimes. They read the proclamation not an hour ago. Loose living, heresy, sacrificing to idols, magic arts, sodomy … You name it. They’ve done it all.”

“Heresy? Sodomy?” The Templars, sitting on their stupendous fortune, were often said to eat too well and drink too much nowadays. Jacob suspected people said this because they were jealous. And what if it were true? So did half the monks in Christendom. But sacrificing to idols? Magic arts? These other charges were clearly absurd. Jacob had no particular love of the Templars, but his sense of justice was outraged. “Is there evidence?” he asked.

“There will be.” The fellow laughed. “The Inquisition will see to that. After they’ve been tortured. You know the way of it.” They were going to torture the Templars, like common criminals. Like heretics. “Once they’ve burned a few at the stake,” the man continued cheerfully, “they’ll talk.”