Lombardy, summer, 1324

Alaric spat. “Mongols,” he said, the word itself an epithet. “Never trust them.”

Jaufre thought of the Mongol Baron Ogodei, and didn’t disagree.

“Yes, well, when the Mongols didn’t come, Robert told us it was over.” His smile was wry. “We didn’t believe him, of course.”

“Wilmot did,” Alaric said.

“But you and I didn’t,” Gilbert said. “Our faith was still strong. We believed in the righteousness of our cause, that the Holy Land was meant to be under Christian rule, that we would triumph over the Saracen savages and that God Himself would appear in our vanguard to lead us with flaming sword back to Jerusalem.” He closed his eyes and shook his head.

Jaufre let the silence linger for just as long as he could bear it and no more. “But my father…”

Gilbert opened his eyes, looking upon the flourishing garden as if uncertain how he’d come there. “I think he was planning our escape from the moment Ghazan’s forces retreated. The week before Ruad fell, he went up to the walls to look over the situation and when he came down he gathered the four of us together and told us that we had to leave. By that time, none of us needed much convincing.” He looked again at Alaric. “I’m going to tell him. All of it.”

Ah yes, the Templars. So much crap has been written about them that I wanted to stick as much as possible to historical sources written by people who know what the hell they are talking about. Almost everything you see about the Templars in Silk and Song came directly from or were inspired by two books: an old one, The Templars: Knights of God by Edward Burman, and a new one, The Real History Behind the Templars by Sharan Newman. I recommend them both if you want to cut through the bullshit, naming no names.

Chatter Silk and Song Edward Burman historical romance Lombardy marco polo sharan newman