The Templar Chronicles: Freedom's Price

Jericho sighed heavily as he exited his tent. The conversation had gone about as well as he had expected, Command was not happy with the risks inherent in the situation into which he was going to put himself. After several long hours of argument and counter argument, Command could not come up with a plan better than his own and he had finally convinced them that what he was doing was in the best interest of the people he was working with, and was that not the point of being a Templar? He checked the time on his wrist readout; it was six o’ clock and time for dinner. His stomach growled at him, not forgetting that he had skipped lunch. He looked down at it in exasperation and thought, even you are yelling at me today, great.

He headed back towards the mess hall, before he entered however; he noticed that someone was walking close behind him. The person was keeping a respectful five steps behind not wanting to intrude on his thoughts. He turned and saw that it was the young Gawain, “Ah Gawain coming in for dinner as well?”

“Yes that is the idea.” Gawain smiled as he moved level with Jericho and they headed inside together.

“How did it work out with the Captain, did he give you work in addition to the stables?”

“Yeah, I take care of the horses in the early morning, then I go and help clean up the mess hall, and after lunch I go to the stables and muck out the stalls. That keeps me busy till around three thirty and then I am free to do whatever I want.” Gawain’s tone was pleased. It seemed that “whatever I want,” meant working with the soldiers in hand-to-hand combat.

Jericho noticed the large bruises on his shoulders and arms. The pattern was consistent with that of a wooden training sword. Jericho was sure that the soldiers were only too happy to have someone live to practice with, or perhaps to practice on, as Gawain was clearly not yet skilled in any aspect of soldiery. Jericho hoped they would not be overly hard on the boy. He nodded in approval, “That sounds like a good schedule to me Gawain, care to join me for the dinner and show this evening?”

“Show?”

“Oh yes, it is Friday and according to the Captain they show movies at both the early and the later dinner times.” Jericho wondered what the movie selection would be in a frontier bastion filled with rustic men and women.

“Well that sounds interesting, but if you don’t mind sir I would like to continue our discussion from earlier today.”

Jericho was caught; he remembered talking with Gawain but had forgotten where they had left off specifically. A lot had happened today that had required his full attention, “And what had we finished talking about Gawain?”

“You were telling me that something called Jerusalem was burned down.” Gawain clearly wanted to hear the rest of this story. Moreover, had Jericho known, the curiosity had eaten at Gawain all day.

Jericho’s stomach gurgled again as they entered the crowded and noisy mess hall. He looked at the crowd, chuckling to himself, “Ah yes, now I remember, of course. But, if you do not mind Gawain I would like to get some food and find a table before we commence with that story.”

“No, I don’t mind.”

“Good” Jericho and Gawain moved through the lines and collected their food. Most of the soldiers wanted to sit as close as they could to the screen that was set against the far wall. They had pulled chairs from other tables to the ones nearer the screen and so that left several at the opposite end of the mess hall near the doors available for two or three people to sit at who did not care about the film. There was another group of soldiers who did not seem interested in watching the movie either; they were playing cards and talking in low voices. The movie began as Gawain and Jericho sat down, it was an old film rescued from the world which had existed long before their own, and as such still required a two dimensional projector.

Jericho smiled, he had wondered at the reasons for the screen in the first place, and he liked the classics. However, he liked the holographic displays that had swept the cinema of Avalon a great deal. They seemed so real, placing the viewer in the middle of the action, surrounding them with the sounds, smells, and views of a world completely apart from their own. Jericho had found the experience somewhat disconcerting when it was invented some two hundred years ago. The original perspective work had given him vertigo, but times had changed.

However, the film the soldiers were watching was not part of those changes. The movie was some generic story about a boy and a girl who fall in love after a series of misadventures and Jericho had seen it already several times despite himself. He sighed such is the penalty of a long life. He found it hard not to repeat the little things.

Gawain was not interested in the film. He had waited politely for a moment to interrupt Jericho’s eating, but his patience had grown thin. Jericho watched Gawain with some amusement. Though clearly burning to ask him questions, the young man had focused on his own food as to avoid being rude. However, after five minutes of silent eating, Gawain could no longer hold back. He coughed slightly and Jericho looked at him bemusedly, “So about Jerusalem?”

“Ah yes,” Jericho swallowed and continued speaking between bites. He spoke in hushed tones not wanting to aggravate the soldiers attempting to watch the film, “Jerusalem was a very important city to many people of the Old World. It was and still is the site of most of the happenings from the old religions, which share many commonalities with our own. When it was wantonly destroyed by someone, it caused a global war.”

Gawain matched Jericho’s tone, his voice incredulous, “The war started because somebody lit up one city? That just doesn’t seem like it would be enough to cause the entire world to fall apart.”

Jericho took a swig from the mug in front of him; he cleared his throat, “You are wrong, Gawain. Jerusalem was that important. To the people of the world before our own, it was one of the most contested and sought after possessions for the three most powerful and widespread faiths. Let me give you an analogy that might help. You are aware of the importance of Zion to our government, but are you also aware of its importance to the followers of the Templar faith, Templarni?”

Gawain knew. Everyone did. It was the site where the Templar capital stood. There they had all the most famous religious sights, where the Templar Archives were. It was where the Justicar of the Templar ruled over the Kingdom of Heaven, and where the Great Tree stood. However, he did not know if these were the answers Jericho was looking for, so he used a careful answer in place of that first reaction, “I know that it is called, ‘The City of Eternal Twilight,’ and that everyone who has traveled there says that there is no other place like it.”

“That is true, Gawain, very true. It is the site of the most important battle of the Templars’ founding. Where Michael appeared in the sky and blinded the enemy, turning the tide of battle in favor of the vastly outnumbered knights. It is the center, the heart of the Kingdom; and most citizens of the empire would die rather than see any harm come to her. Jerusalem was the Zion of her time; in fact, the name Zion comes from the history of Jerusalem and the mountain of Zion where her people first came to worship the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, the same God that we still worship to this day. Imagine if you can, the outrage and horror that would erupt if Zion was burned to the ground and all that is, was no more.”

Jericho observed as Gawain tried to grasp that one. As he was sure the boy had been taught, there was not a person in their right mind who would ever want to destroy something as wonderful as Zion. “I can imagine.” He felt he was beginning to grasp what might have caused the war.

“Good,” Jericho’s face was grave, he could see that the horror of ages past was sinking into this boy’s skull, “now if you can, imagine that everyone in the kingdom knew that one of the provinces was responsible for the destruction, that the entire province had betrayed the kingdom and burned its capital.” He paused to take in the shocked expression on Gawain’s face; Jericho could tell that Gawain now understood why and how the Old World had burned. “Now go one step further, everyone in the kingdom knew that one province had done it, but no one knew which.”

Gawain thought this over, he realized that everyone would attack each other believing entirely that what he or she did was right; everyone would rise up in arms and begin a civil war even though they did not know why they were fighting one person or province over the other. “It would be crazy.” Gawain whispered these words, the flashes of guns and the clashing of swords passed through his mind’s eye, while in the background of their conversation a laugh track played at the antics of the characters on screen.

“Exactly,” Jericho hissed, a dread excitement in his voice that Gawain understood completely, “the Old World tore itself apart. The Christians blamed the Muslims, the Muslims blamed the Jews, the Jews blamed everybody who had ever done them wrong, which was just about everybody, and before anyone was sure what exactly was happening the war was everywhere. In every city and in every town, brother against brother, neighbor against neighbor, friend against friend. The battle was fierce and brutal and lasted a long eight months, and then it was over, but no one was prepared for what came next.”

Gawain exhaled, he had not even realized that he had been holding his breath. What could possibly be worse than a super, world destroying war? “What happened?”

“The world’s population had been massacred; they had gone from more than ten billion souls, to roughly three billion. Disease and famine were rampant, and there was a shortage of drinking water as many of the natural sources had become contaminated by the weapons and the bodies. More and more were dying every day and the people of Earth had just begun to pick up the pieces of their old lives. That is when the demons began to appear.

No one had known that the war was not just a spur of the moment blood feud between long existing antagonists, but that in reality there was force behind the sudden violence that was not of this world. The demons had been amongst them for a good while, hidden and careful. They went by many names, though the people often only were able to take note of their influence long after they had passed on to other endeavors. Ironically, the words that they chose to describe the atrocities they left behind were one of the many names that the demons themselves wore and still wear. Greed, Lust, Pride, Hatred, Apathy, Discontent, Hunger, the demons were everywhere but they were crafty and were opposed by the goodness of humanity and the hope that dwells in every human heart; but the world had grown too dark. The light became weaker than the shadow and the demons became stronger and stronger. They started having greater and greater influence and increasing their power as the humans fell under their sway. A spiraling effect ensued that destroyed the human race. The demons, as far as we know, were not directly at fault for the burning of Jerusalem. However, I am certain that they were the ones who instigated the violence. The first Templar Knights were survivors who emerged from amongst the ruins of the war.”

“I didn’t realize that the demons had always been around. I thought they showed up because the Templar did, or that the Templar had always been around to fight them.” Gawain was a little bit afraid of the implications of the fall of the Old World; no wonder the Templar were constantly fighting the demons. They couldn’t possibly allow their influence to return. If they had already caused a war that nearly wiped out people altogether…, Gawain could not imagine what new havoc they could wreak on the small kingdom of Avalon.

“That is a common myth that mothers tell their children when they are young and we encourage it until the child enters school.” Jericho glanced at the movie they were well into the second half of the story now. He did a quick mental calculation that left him with only twenty minutes before he had to go on patrol. “Did you want to hear the story of the first Templar, or are you more interested in the battles they waged to establish Zion?”

“I want to hear it all, tell me about the first Templar.” There was an eager light in Gawain’s eyes once more. He had never been this excited about anything before. The history of the Templar was particularly interesting as he himself was now playing out a part of it.

Jericho smiled at Gawain, he was glad to see that the he was enjoying this. It had been a long time since Jericho had gotten to tell this full history and he was enjoying the experience as much as Gawain. He began again his voice still low as the soldiers laughed in unison at some slapstick humor on the screen, “The survivors emerged from the wreckage of their cities around the spring of 2068. This is where our documentation of the post war years becomes solid, for the original Templar lived through this time and their writings are in the Archives to this day. They came out from their hiding places to find a world dominated by strange and terrible creatures, the demons and their ilk. The greatest, or perhaps the worst, stronghold of the demons is believed to be in old Europe in what was once the capital of an old nation they called Italy, across the great ocean. Though we have never been able to confirm this, nothing and no one who has attempted that crossing has returned. Here in the Americas the survivors had more of a chance, survivors on the other continents, we believe, though we do not know, were rounded up and dealt with expeditiously.

The concentration of survivors began to head north; the natural reason was that the further north one goes the fewer demons there are. But there was more to this mass migration than that, for some reason there was a pull around the ruins of what was once a city in Canada called Ottawa.”

“Where is that?” He had never been a student of history let alone historical geography.

“It is far to the north of here, several hundred kilometers north of Antioch.” Gawain nodded affirming that he understood. “At first they were disorganized and hungry. They knew that their time was short and that if they were not careful the harsh Canadian winter would finish them. There were serious problems on hand, however, who was going to lead them? There was no government, no organization left over in the ashes of the Old World. Who then would be in charge? This became the first, and perhaps the most dangerous situation that the survivors were to face.

You see, the Old World was still very fresh back then. It had only been dead a few months and all those who were alive had lived and worked under the governments that existed in North America. But the difference of opinions over who should govern and how they should go about it were great. At that time in Ottawa, there were many groups that formed around someone they thought could lead this ‘survivor’s colony’ as they were calling it amongst themselves. There were so many factions, anarchists, capitalists, democrats, republicans, communists, socialists, environmentalists, and several smaller and even more violent groups. The situation became so dangerous that it looked like the hope of the North American survivors was going to devolve into a series of gang wars and the human race would go extinct. But there was another organization that was formed during this time that was able to convince the people to avoid bloodshed.”

“The Knights Templar.” Gawain whispered unable to contain himself.

Jericho nodded and smiled, “The Knights Templar. There were thirty of them in the beginning, and how they found each other is a tale worthy of telling in itself, though to do it full justice would take too long. However, the Knights realized that they were a conglomeration of Christians, Jews, Muslims, and even on or two from smaller faiths, left over from the Old World. They wanted to try to return the light of their religions to a world that had been torn asunder by a civil war started by religious organizations; the prospect was not a simple one. They knew that to represent the old religions would be folly in this world already bent on violence. They needed a new plan. No, more than that, they needed a new religion. But how could they form a new religion? One does not simply get up one day and say, ‘Hey, I think I will write a holy text today that everyone will want to follow.’ So they prayed, and prayed hard, to the only concept they knew they shared in common the God of Abraham. Those original thirty men and women did not go unanswered.

The messenger of God, Gabriel, came to them from Heaven. The warm glow of the divine was to be found that afternoon, long ago in a tiny, decrepit restaurant in what was once a strip mall in downtown Ottawa. Gabriel came to them and told them this ‘God has taken pity on you men and women, the thirty faithful to the one true God who gather together in reverence to him. He sent me his messenger, to break his own blackout with the people of Earth. Because you thirty have remained faithful and loyal to the one true God even in this time of demons and monsters you are truly blessed. He hereby grants you the favor of Heaven and it shall pass amongst you and unto all those who are adopted into your order under your codes.’ He then gave them a tome, a tome that was heavy and well decorated. The front cover read, El Regalo de Verdad y honor, the book was entirely written in Spanish, a fact which confused them greatly at that time.”

Gawain sat there in confusion; he had heard that angels existed and that the Templar were reputed to have dealings with them. Despite these rumors, he was unwilling to accept the assertion that the book was a gift from Heaven. His doubt must have showed in his eyes and in his expression because Jericho was chuckling again. Jericho’s voice was light and amused, “You don’t believe that the original holy text of our order was handed to the Templar by the archangel do you?”

“It seems too…convenient.” Gawain chose the last word carefully, not wanting to offend.

“That it does, and to think that this book of testament would have been given to them by an angel of the Lord, it rung too much of the old bible stories that most of the survivors had been told when they were young. But if I may I would like to present some counter evidence to support this miraculous occurrence.” It was not a question; Jericho was going to defend his beliefs even if Gawain had not wanted to hear it. “If the book was not given to the first Templar Knights by the messenger angel there are several issues that need to be addressed. First, how a group of men and women comprised largely of North American survivors wrote a whole text in Spanish. The book is somewhere around seven hundred and ninety pages long. Well the answer may be simple enough; some of them spoke and could write in Spanish, but there are other issues. If they wrote the book, how did they find paper in a restaurant in their post-apocalyptic nightmare? I have seen the original manuscript of The Gift of Truth and Honor, it is printed on heavy paper lined with gold, the cover is redwood inlaid with silver around the design on the front, and back covers. It is rare and beautiful sight that not all Templar Knights are privileged enough to see. How could these men and women have created this book, particularly the cover, none of them were carpenters or metallurgists let alone bookbinders. They simply could not have physically made a book there in the burnt out ruins of old Canada. Furthermore, if the book was simply in the restaurant before they got there, who did write it, and who would leave something so valuable behind in a, forgive the expression, low-class restaurant? But the greatest evidence in favor of divine intervention came when the Templar presented their find and their plans to the thousands of people hiding in Ottawa.”

Gawain sat in thought, what Jericho had said made sense. There was no logical way that a small group of people with only two days’ worth of time could have written the whole book and then bound it in precious metals and wood. Furthermore, on that train of logic it would have been highly unlikely that anyone would just find it. Maybe there was a divine explanation for the rise of the Templar, and their powers certainly suggested that. But still, it was a lot to simply accept.

While Gawain pondered this over, Jericho looked at the clock again; it was time for him to be on his way. Besides he had given this boy a lot to think about already, perhaps he was out of questions for the day, albeit that he had left him with another cliffhanger. Jericho smiled ruefully, he loved this part of his calling, “Sorry Gawain but it seems that our time together must be drawn to a close once more. I do have a job to do here, and it is not being the local bard.”

He snapped out of his thoughts to quickly request, “Yeah, yeah, ok, thanks. Maybe, I could hear more of the story tomorrow?”

Jericho stood and looked down and the young man’s hopeful eyes. He thought it might be possible if he got in from his patrol in time, but he did not want to make promises that he could not keep, “We shall see Gawain, I should be back before lunch tomorrow, but you never know. If I am here I will welcome your presence once more.”

“Ok, then I will hope to see you tomorrow.”

Jericho left as quietly as he could though that was nearly impossible in the chainmail he always wore. Gawain turned to face the movie screen to pretend to watch the end of a movie that was surely almost over, lost in his thoughts he stared blankly ahead. What could have driven those men and women so? Were they just crazy or is there something to the life that the Templar choose? Well there is the obvious of course, the money, the power, and the status, but perhaps they weren’t selfish, and perhaps all Templar weren’t as bad as some say they are. The movie ended and the soldiers began to exit, but Gawain remained long after any of them. He was so lost in thought that the cooks had to come over and ask him to move so that they could finish cleaning the tables before the second dinner began. Gawain apologized and got up to leave, he wanted to get some practice in with the men who were off-duty. For the first time, he had a set goal in his life, and it was going to be hard to shake him from it.

Jericho headed to the stables after leaving the mess hall. He was nervous, very nervous; he had realized something while speaking with Gawain. Why has it been so quiet around here, the demons do not normally behave this way. His instincts told him that the demon should have responded differently to the first escapee in history. Why had he just run away? He stopped to see the captain before exiting the building. He told him exactly what he expected and the captain blanched a pale white color.

“Are you sure sir, I mean there has been no report of such a thing?” Grom stuttered out not wanting to doubt the Templar but also not wanting to believe what was being suggested.

“Oh no, I am not sure. However, something in my heart tells me that the demon we snubbed our noses at will not be content simply to let a prisoner escape. He may attempt something; keep your men on guard around here. I know your numbers are reduced with your attempts to support the lumber teams, but that is no reason to get sloppy with the perimeter.”

“No sir, I will ensure that the area is as secure as possible.” Grom’s lips settled into a hard line as he realized the truth of what Jericho said.

Jericho turned and left making a beeline for the stables. He needed to get his horse and move out as soon as he could. He moved rapidly through the stables retrieving his saddle and tack and preparing his horse Charlemagne for immediate departure. He had a lot to do and only a few short hours of the night in which to do it. He sighed again as he mounted and headed out the doors, this was going to be more difficult than he had originally thought.