NEW RESIDENTS IN THE LANGUEDOC, MARCH 1305
“Sir,” said Guilhem, formally, and gave the proper bow. “My respects.” He didn’t remove his hat. Not quite polite, but sufficient. Not a hint of homage, for homage he would not give. Enough courtesy to show how reluctant those respects were, and how he hated being made to travel from the back of beyond to report to a commander whose knowing look showed that he was going to exploit the politics of it all.
The Templar commander was a shade more polite. Only a shade. The big man was obviously not yet certain that he wanted to have Guilhem reporting to him, much less to recruit him.
Guilhem smiled. The recruitment was his idea, to push away some other notions his aunt had. He was playing on the concept his aunt possessed about his profound spiritua
