The Knights Templar are Back

Chapter 5.1

Under the cover of tall trees, which protected them from potential prying eyes, even if they were in the sky, the men had gathered in front of the sheep and goats corrals. There were no houses nearby since they were scattered in the surrounding forests.

They were thirty, and apart from their swarthy faces showing union with the local ethnic groups over time all shared a common origin that was lost in the mists of centuries, from which they had received orally referrals by myths and traditions that everyone knew and passed on to their children. The talks were in a soft voice as a show of respect for the place and the event, and they soon became extinct when one of them arrived, whom they knew as the Comendador and was therefore the head of the local chapter. The men sat on logs and other rudimentary seats provided for that purpose.

The man stood on a small platform in front of the congregation and said firmly:

Dieu le veut.” (1)

(1) God wants it

Thirty excited throats joined answering with the old motto.

“ Dieu le veut.”

“ Confreres.” Continued the head in Spanish, showing good use of the language. “Ominous shadows extend on our sacred soil again. We do not know the nature and intentions of a small group that has entered our region. We ignore whether they are pilgrims or infidels; if they are scientists or looters. But either way we know that we must protect our glorious heritage, which has been entrusted to us by our elders and of which we are only custodians in our time. Not only it is the heritage that we received from our grandparents, but it is the legacy that we should turn to our children and grandchildren.” His voice vibrated and its effect on those present was perceivable in the watery eyes and knotted throats.

“ We have a responsibility not only towards History but towards our brothers of the chapters in Europe and the Holy Land. From Navarra, Poitou, Auberry, Lombardy, Portugal, England, Jerusalem and Antioch our confreres are watching us and despite our modest means they count on our hearts to defend our heritage. I have already made contact with the Prior General in France and put him up with the situation. He has confirmed his trust in our people. I've also alerted our scattered brothers in Rio n***o and Chubut just in case their presence among us becomes necessary.”

He made a long silence, and then asked the respectful audience

“Any question, brothers?”

“Friar Heribert.” A big man whose stature stood out among their peers rose timidly.

“Yes, Sergeant Ludovic.”

“Two questions: are violent acts by intruders expected ? And how will we respond if any?”

“ Thanks for your question Sergeant. The answer is that at this point we have no idea of their intentions and we do not know if they are armed. We will send one of our brothers in order to answer those questions. We will never resort to gratuitous violence; only respond to force with force as a last resort. If they are wayfarers, our responsibility to them is the same as that of our ancestors who protected pilgrims in the Holy Land, since that is the very purpose of the Order.”

The words were well received by those present, Heribert verified the consensus that was usual in their meetings, predictable among men with so much in common.

“ One more thing.” He still demanded their attention.

“ Apart from the attitudes of those who have entered our land we cannot rule out that they have been followed by other men, perhaps adventurers and criminals. From now on we will be watchful of everything that happens in our territory, and I have asked our brothers in Bariloche, San Martin de los Andes, El Bolsón and Esquel to pay attention to strange movements. Now let´s recite the prayer we all know ....”

“ Pater noster…”

After the prayer the small group quickly dispersed, as a storm front was rapidly advancing and the first gusts of wind had commenced blowing. A dark black spindle-shaped cloud could be seen above the western horizon. Everyone knew that it heralded a heavy storm and rushed to return home, to get their families, livestock and tools in safe places.

Marcelo was the first to notice the storm that was coming. Emil put the horses in a broad clearing among the trees, tied them with long reins to prevent them from escaping frightened by the thunderstorm. The travelers put their possessions secured to the ground as much as possible, covering some valuable stuff with heavy stones and they all settled in the same tent. When the storm began, all their combined strength was barely enough to hold the tent and keep it from blowing away. Now and then water jets came through the door that slipped away from their hands and the tent floor got waterlogged. In the midst of thunders an intense hail began to fall on the landscape, and despite being nestled under a canopy of trees, many hailstones fell on the tents, fortunately without tearing the fabric.

The storm seemed endless and their energies were getting exhausted due to the permanent effort. The temperature had dropped, and all kept their bodies close to each other to maintain they warm because in those conditions they could not even think about lighting a fire in front of the tent.

Finally the storm faded away, and calm returned to the camp.

Teresa walked a few hundred meters to a nearby stream, and lay on the rocks of the shore, warming her contracture body under the morning sun. It had been a miserable night, and now they had decided to stay all morning at the bivouac, during which the men set to repair damages in the tents and other expedition implements. The woman needed from time to time to stay alone, to have some privacy that the camp life with its forced cohabitation denied her. She watched enraptured the surrounding landscape, the amancay flowers typical of the area, some unknown birds that fluttered with their feathers shining in the sun, at the same time that she heard the whisper of the creek water with its volume increased by the overnight rain as it was running between the white stones. Teresa loved the natural landscapes and the idyllic moment reminded her again of another camp while she was alone in Yucatan, near the cenotes or interconnected water wells used by the Mayans centuries before. As then, feathers and petals were now gleaming. Imperceptibly Teresa fell asleep under the solar heat, with an intense feeling of physical well-being, lulled by the sounds of the forest and the stream.

The woman remained a long time in that state of half-sleep and her subconscious refused to take note of new developments. The distant sound seemed from another dimension and Teresa did not want to break the spell with environmental intrusions. But the sounds grew louder as its source approached until suddenly they brought her back to reality.

"That´s a dog barking, no doubt." She told herself.

A moment later the sound of a young voice added to the barks, calling.

“Maury, Maury ! Where are you?”

Teresa, somewhat surprised, raised partially, her torso supported by her elbows resting on the grass. Then she saw a dog coming quickly toward her, surely a puppy, of an undefined race and still of small size; the animal, lacking any fear, approached the girl and began to sniff around her. At that time a boy emerged from the grove running after the dog.

“Amaury! Do not bother the lady. Come here.” the youth, obviously embarrassed by the escape of his pet, kept his distance from Teresa.

“No problem.” Said the woman, turning Amaury belly up, after which she began to scratch it while the dog moaned with pleasure. “I'm used to dogs, and much bigger than this. Are you the owner?”

“ Yes, ma'am. It is actually the son of my family´s bitch.”

Teresa stared at the boy. He was around eighteen, tall and slim. His skin was white and his hair dark brown. He wore modest but neat and tidy clothes. Altogether an attractive look.

"And where are you coming from after the storm." Teresa thought but she said aloud.

“Do you live around here?”

“ Actually ... east of this place, south of Mount Alcorta.”

“Do you live with your parents?”

“Yes, they have a small farm.”

“What do they do in that farm?”

“ Raising sheep and grow a few vegetables. In summertime I guide tourists on horseback riding.”

“Then you must know the area well.”

“Yes, pretty well.”

At that time Marcelo emerged from the bushes coming from the camp. Teresa looked at him and amused she could not help comparing her husband with the newcomer. Marcelo was dirty and disheveled after dealing with the effects of the storm. He was with a two days beard and his brown hair tousled.

“ Tere ...” Seeing the newcomer he stopped surprised. “So, you have company.”

“ Yes, the dog came to me and the owner after him. Let me introduce...” “ She changed interlocutor and asked the young man. “What is your name?”

“ Amalric.”