The Endless Sea(Preview)

Chapter 1 - "Salvos"

Nantes, France

February 21st, 1308 AD

Already one year had passed since the dissolution of the Templar Order, many lives of my fellow brothers have ended abruptly. We were a great order, aiding those on pilgrimages into the holy land. We owned vast heaps of gold and wealth. We had control of Cyprus and even large estates for every man, but now look at us. Stuck under this house, in a butchers basement in this godforsaken country of France. It reeked of rotten swine and decaying brine. Cobwebs filled every corner of this basement, an occasional tarantula would creep on the floor, in search of food.

We faced terrible ends, convictions, forced confessions of heresy and corrupt business. It was no doubt that one day I too would be caught and put in the deepest cell of the dungeon to tell them my fictitious confessions of terrible crimes. It was one of these days that I found a group of fellow order mates that I knew. Jean, Guy, Jacqueline, Charlotte, Otto, Theoderich. A good mix of multiple ethnicities and we all could communicate, just fine, as we all knew French. It was a requirement to be admitted into the Order. Jean, a tall fair blonde headed man looked at me with such curiosity, it is as if he didn't know me.

"It has been a while since I have seen you. You really have changed, you look... depressed and exhausted." he walked to the old musty table and winced. He must have remembered something from his early life. Perhaps a dream or trauma.

"Of course I feel terrible, one year of hiding, escaping and near death experiences." I murmured.

"Its gonna grind you down." I pat him on his shoulder. He winced, but harder. I scanned around, old rusty tools, the group having talks about the past. Some french man paced around. Finally, I recognized him. He was the man I always enjoyed the company of. Guy, brutish and taller than the others, a crooked yet hearty smile, a drunkard no less. "Last time I saw you, you were stuck deep in a Dutch brothel!" he lightheartedly yelled. The others looked at him with a disapproving look. He slowly looked down and lumbered to the chair in the corner only to remember the situation we were in. As he apologized, Jacqueline walked to him to speak with him. She was average in height... Dark hair like the coat of a Mustang, freckles gently sprinkled onto her nose and a trusting smile. I was her friend although she always seemed to lie about measly things to fit in. She was a follower and not a leader. It was like that time she went off lonesome in the streets following some brigands. She was easily convinced that they were merchants and wise folk, I knew it to be bad, but she was eager to speak with them, and off she went. She came back with a bruise...always worried she was...

"Monsieur, please tell me you are not a guard," she said.

"He would never be a French guard to hunt down Templars." my most amiable Freund said.

Otto was a very good man, he had followed me along with these other Templars in order to escape those first days of the great arrest. Theoderich... a commoner raised knight, was found while escaping with Otto from Acre. He was quite wounded. A large slice in his left arm. He was adopted by a Templar who owned land in the city of Theodoro in Crimea. He walked to a shelf and examined his shortsword. The red cross was clearly visible. He had nothing to say as he was mostly quiet. Yet the expressions in his face could tell he was in deep thought, the sheer horror of war, the fear as we had from purgatory. Only God knew that we were innocent.

We have been cramped in this house for some time, the butcher's wife would occasionally come to bring us food and water, telling us to stay calm and pray. Chattering to each other about the past, the golden days until suddenly-. Some footsteps were heard on the old moldy wooden planks. The clanging of metal, and audacious footsteps. This was no ordinary commoner. It was a soldier walk. We all went silent, even Guy, most of the time a joyful person, he had a grim look on his face. We could hear a man speaking to the butcher upstairs. The voice of a young man speaking loudly, a booming voice. Clearly, he had "lawful" intentions. We listen only to hear the bickering guard on top of us.