defeat the mighty English army in the Battle of Bannockburn in the summer of 1314. The Scottish fighters were outnumbered three to one, yet they managed to destroy over half of the English army in only two days of fighting. King Edward of England fled for his life on a boat, leaving the foot soldiers behind to try to make their way back to England by land. With the victorious Scottish army hotly pursuing them, most didn’t ever set foot on English soil again. The carnage was huge and the incredible Scottish victory complete. Ever since that legendary day, the humiliated English forces had plotted revenge against the Scots. Connor and his family had already paid a heavy price in the ongoing war with the southerners. Now, Connor was willing to die for Prince Henry if it meant keeping his homeland free.
Connor glanced at the scar that crossed Sir Rudyard’s face. The scar was as mysterious as the Order itself. Sir Rudyard had never told the story of the scar to anyone, not even to his only son. Connor could only dream that someday he too might be allowed to join their noble ranks and learn of their secrets. Sir Rudyard gave Angus an extra squeeze then stepped back with a grin as big as his scar.
“It’s good to see you, my son.” He looked to Connor. “And what about you, young stable boy . . . besting the son of a knight? How should I punish such insolence?”
Connor smiled and knelt. “Please forgive me, Sir Rudyard. I promise to go lightly on him next time.”
“What?” snapped Angus.
Angus put a foot on Connor’s shoulder and pushed the boy sideways, flipping him into the soiled straw. Sir Rudyard laughed, held out a hand to Connor and brought him back up onto his feet.
“You’ll do nae such thing, young Connor. You keep givin’ it to him. I’m glad to see that the two of you have taken to the lessons I gave you in the art of Eastern Bo Fighting. I learned that technique from a master fighter in Damascus.”
Connor sighed. “I would love to see such distant lands myself.”
Sir Rudyard cleared his throat, then looked from one boy to the other. “An interesting choice of words, Connor. There is something that I need to ask of the two of you.”
Connor stepped up next to Angus.
“Yes, father?” queried Angus.
“As you know, I have often been away from Roslin, sometimes for months at a time.”
Angus’s face fell. “Are you going away again?”
Sir Rudyard nodded. “Prince Henry has sent orders to the men. I have to leave tonight.”
Connor felt for his best friend. The heartache etched across Angus’s face brought him back to the time on a drizzly autumn day when they’d buried his father at the family farm. Sometimes it felt as if it had happened just yesterday. Connor couldn’t help but wonder what was really worse; saying goodbye to a father only once at his gravesite, or having to continually say goodbye, as often as Angus did with his own father. Angus suppressed his emotions as best he could and put on a brave face.
“I understand, father. I know that if you had a choice, you would stay with me, at least for a little while.”
Sir Rudyard smiled and tousled his hair. “You are a good lad, Angus. I have talked to Sir Stephen, and he has told me of your training as a squire. He said that both you and young Connor are showing exceptional promise in your practice, and soon the two of you will be ready for knighthood.”
Their eyes lit up.
“Then we can join the Templar Order and go with you on your travels!” blurted Angus.
Sir Rudyard’s face hardened. “The Templar Order doesn’t exist any more. Do you understand that? Don’t mention that name again.”
Angus swallowed. He had forgotten that the since the arrival of the Templars in Scotland, their continued existence had been kept a secret. In its place, the Order had decided to use the cover of the newly formed Lodges of Freemasonry in order to continue their network of meetings, decision-making and hierarchy.
“Sorry, father. But is there a chance that someday you will take us away from Roslin Castle so that I can help with your duties?”
Sir Rudyard grinned. “How would you like to leave with me tonight?”
Shocked, Connor and Angus looked at each other and then back to Sir Rudyard. “Tonight?”
“Can you keep a secret?”
They both nodded eagerly. The knight leaned forward and whispered in their ears. “Not a word to anyone. Go and quietly pack your belongings, then meet me at the gates after dusk. I’ll tell you about it later.”
Connor and Angus turned to each other, their faces beaming. “Aye, sir!”
They burst out of the stable and made a mad dash across the narrow bailey of Roslin Castle. As they approached the side entrance of the castle, Connor stopped so quickly that Angus crashed head first into his back.
“Why did you do that?” he asked, rubbing his nose.
Angus heard the approaching steps and understood. The rhythmic clicking noise could only come from the delicate steps of a woman. The boys tried to brush the clinging manure from their clothes then stood to attention. The heavy wooden door swung open, and the afternoon breeze blew forth a wave of golden locks into the air. Their nostrils filled with the sweet smell of lavender and rose as a beautiful young lady stepped out into the warm sunshine. Her long white dress billowed in the breeze, and the boys fought the urge to gawk at her angelic presence. They bowed with deep reverence.
“Good mornin’, Princess Sarah,” said Angus.
The princess stopped before them. The pungent stench of fresh horse manure filled her nostrils. Her nose twitched in confusion as she looked at the young men.
“Angus and Connor, have you been playing in the stable yet again?”
“Not playing, but practicing, my lady,” Connor answered quickly.
A slight smile replaced the wrinkling of her nose. “It does my heart good to know that I have an army of dedicated, albeit rather pungent men to defend me.”
A mighty clang of metal cut short the conversation. A giant of a man, clad in chest-covering battle armour, stepped through the doorway and came to a halt behind the princess. His wide, well-fed face sported a thick black mustache. Under his arm he carried his darkened helmet, bearing the scrapes and dents of past battles. His narrow charcoal eyes sized up the two filthy squires with disgust.
“An entire enemy army could be repelled by such stench,” he growled. “Come along, Princess Sarah. I’m sure there is better air near the front gate.”
The boys bowed again as the young woman left their company and began a leisurely stroll with her guardian through the courtyard. Angus smiled at Connor, who daringly eyed the departing princess.
Angus elbowed him hard in the side. “Better think again, mate. If Prince Henry even gets a hint that you have eyes for his sister, he’ll string you up on the outer wall and leave you there for raven food.”
Connor felt his cheeks burn. “I mean nothing by it. It’s just that I’ve never seen a more bonny lass in my entire life.”
Angus
